#b is for

[geraldofallon]

B is for…

Begin a Romance, Breath of the Void, Bloody Wallpaper, Bounty Hunting, Battle of Wolfstack Docks, Book, Boots, Black Ribbon, Becalmed, Bottled Oblivion

[thisisalovestry]

file -> phrases that are going to shift something in me forever

[tio-trile]

Something something vampires have no reflection so he can't even try to see his brother's face anymore when he looks into the mirror

[summer-fire]

[bugshark]

go my tennas. eat my gifs

[andhumanslovedstories]

look I'm not gonna pretend I know anything about electronics, but sometimes a plug is so big it blocks another socket, and I'm always like "who the fuck do you think you are"

[xiaq]

Absolutely wild to me how sometimes you don't even realize the way you'd been taught to perceive things as a kid was kinda fucked up, actually, until decades later.

Example:

As a kid, I constantly lived in fear of damaging shit in my parent's house. The walls. The floors (especially the floors. The wood was beautiful. Shiny. But so easy to scratch). The cabinets.

As a sixteen-year-old, I once took my car to the dealership after work and paid a very dear sum of $250 ($10/hr cashier salary) to fix a slight scratch in the paint because I knew if my father saw it there would be hell to pay. It didn't matter that I parked far out, like I'd been taught, and someone scratched it anyway. It was my fault. I failed in my duties as a steward of my vehicle.

Every time I scratched a rim on a curb while parallel parking or got a door ding or, god forbid, didn't wash and vacuum that car every weekend, it was treated like some sort of moral failing.

Last year, when my husband and I first moved into our house, he scraped the side of our car when parking in our (Very Narrow) garage. When he told me, my first instinct was to be afraid for him. Like something terrible was going to happen to him because of this mistake. I urgently reassured him that it was okay, it was an accident, I wasn't mad. Baffled, he was like, "Yeah? I know? Like, thank you for the reassurance, but I'm only a little annoyed, I'm not upset. It's just a car." And I had to take several minutes to process that. It's...just a car.

We keep the car tidy. We maintain it. But we wash it maybe 4x a year. We only vacuum it after dirty road trips or when the dog hair starts to get annoying. It has scrapes and dings and the leather seats have stains. But that's ok. Because it's just a car.

This morning, I realized that a small rock had gotten embedded in the felt foot on one of our bar stools. Neither of us had noticed. There are now scratches on our beautiful hardwood floor. My immediate response was fear accompanied by a heavy measure of paralyzing guilt. "I'm so sorry," I told my husband, "I should have noticed. I'll figure out how to fix it, I swear. I can probably sand down that section and match the stain and--"

"Whoa, hey," he said. "It was an accident. And it's fine. Floors are going to get damaged. They're floors. We live here. There was damage in places before we even bought the house, remember? It's not a big deal. It's just a floor." Right. It's just a floor. Right.

My husband's mom is visiting and this afternoon, as I was sitting in the kitchen looking at the scratches on the floor, I offhandedly asked her if my husband had ever broken or damaged anything as a kid. "Of course," she said. Household items. A TV. A wrecked car during his teen years. I asked how she punished him.

"Why would I punish him for things like that?" she said. "They were all accidents."

Right. Of course. Right.

[buggotbrain]

saw a theory that the SmokeStack twins were posing as one man in Chicago, which helped them get away with stealing from both sides. i'm poised to believe that because visually their clothing was very clearly of the two mobs. smoke was full irish— tweed, bowler hat. while stack had the full mafia look. yk italian leather shoes, fedora etc etc . like the details!!

[gooselycharm]

SISYPHUS GETS A 9 TO 5

[spoilers for all of severance season 1. words by northernlion, brain worms by me]

[sbeana]

coping by drawing them being fun and awesome and normal and silly

[jellybeanzrock]

Today I was chatting with two guys and mentioned I was aroace. It went a little something like this.

A: wtf is that

B: it means she’s not attracted to people in that way

A: bro you can’t just not pick a side, that’s crazy

B: nah, it just means she’s spectator mode

A: OHHH IT MAKES SENSE NOW

I have never felt more validated or laughed so hard

[i-3at-s0ap]

Elon Musk isn't a sociopath Trump isn't a narcissist Jeff Bezos isn't a psycho they are terrible racist bigoted assholes but I'm begging y'all to fucking give a shit about people with personality disorders. PLEASE.

[emptiness-statue]

[drowning-in-this-sadnesss]

[andhumanslovedstories]

Back in 2013, I posted a Welcome to Night Vale fic and someone commented, “I’m autistic and I see myself a lot in the way you write Carlos. Did you intend for him to autistic?”

And I was like “I’m flattered you think so! No, he’s not intended to be autistic, but I’m glad you can see yourself in him.”

Now twelve years later I spent some time this evening trying to track down that comment to give a very belated clarification. Whoever you were stranger, hey. I only said no because I based Carlos heavily on me, and since I wasn’t autistic, Carlos wouldn’t be either. Well. I’ve learned some stuff in the intervening decade that strongly support your literary analysis.