shark vs the universe
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
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if i look back, i am lost
Cosimo Galluzzi
The Stonewall Inn
Phantogram Three
izzy's playlists!
Fai_Ryy
almost home
EXPECTATIONS
Show & Tell
đ
Jimmy Eat World
macklin celebrini has autism
$LAYYYTER
bliss lane
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seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from Canada
seen from Argentina
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from TĂźrkiye
seen from Colombia
seen from United States
seen from Morocco
seen from Indonesia
seen from United States
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seen from Kenya
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seen from TĂźrkiye
@author-cs-gravely
Neurodivergent A quick abstract piece I threw together. It symbolizes my struggles with being neurodivergent. My mind is full of ideas. But I don't always have a proper outlet to share them. Or at least find people who are willing to listen. So it can feel like I'm trapped inside my mind.
I hope you donât need context for this one! đ¤
Where Monsters Swim
I made sure not to make sudden movements as I treaded the water. The waves lifted me up and down like a carousel horse. I wouldnât have worn a flannel shirt and trousers had I known Iâd be in this situation. I also wouldâve shaved my itchy beard, as it now clung tightly to my face. It didnât seem that I had gotten any closer to the shore. I realized that, due to the currents, I might not be moving at all. At that moment, I began to question all my life choices. Even when I, at 3 years old, I asked my parents for dinosaur toys.
I heard a splash! I gently spun around. Nothing. It was probably just a fish. Hopefully, it was just a fish. I kept my face tilted slightly upwards as I resumed. While I hoped that Iâd be able to see something coming on the surface, I knew that no successful predator would display itself. I was surprised that nothing had eaten me yet. No matter how subtle I was, I drew attention to myself. I didnât dare to look down to see what was below me. A large predator couldâve tagged behind me 20 minutes ago, and Iâd never know. I was cursed with the knowledge of what creatures inhabit these watersâmosasaurs and plesiosaurs, mostly. But I especially hated the thought of being within the vicinity of a Xiphactinus. God, I hated those things. I saw a picture of one in a book when I was 8, and I was afraid to swim in the deep end of the public pool for the rest of the summer. Now, I was stuck in open water, where these creatures are no longer confined to my imagination.
However, they all shared one thing in common â they could eat me in a bite or two. Thatâs how I would want to go out if I had to choose. My head would quickly jerk under the surface, and that would be it. Not a sound. No pain. No fear. It gave me a weird sense of peace. Especially knowing that it could happen at any given moment. I could be out of this godforsaken time and place when I least expect it. All things considered, I could technically be the very first person to enter Heaven or Hell. Honestly, Iâd take either of them in a heartbeat. Preferably, the one that would get me out of here fastest. Still, something kept me going. All I had to do was stop and let myself sink. If I had the courage, I couldâve cut myself with my pocket knife to seduce nearby predators with the scent of my blood. As badly as I wanted this to end, I chose to keep fighting. Probably because I had a family to return to, or maybe it was simply the desire to return to the doldrums of home and work life. Either way, I didnât want to die as the guy who almost made it.
Moments later, I spun around once more. I saw something this time! It appeared to be a giant, smooth-skinned crocodile. Once I overcame the shock of no longer being alone, I realized what it actually was â a mosasaur!
Abandoning procedure, I frantically kicked and paddled, not daring to turn away. No matter how fast I was, it continued to glide towards me at a consistent pace. It was no use. It was just a few feet away, staring at me intensely with its filmy eyes. As a last resort, I splashed water at it, knowing that wouldnât be enough to deter it. Not a flinch. Its snout inched closer to mine, like it was moving in for a deadly kiss. I shut my eyes and waited. Seconds later, I felt that kiss. Only thatâs all it was, a kiss. I waited for the inevitable snap, but it never came. The caws of oceanic birds above sounded like laughter to me. Laughing at how I panicked for nothing. I opened my eyes and saw one of the birds descend onto its back and pull off a piece of stringy flesh. I pushed myself off the creature and let out a sigh of relief. It was dead. What I thought was a hungry predator was nothing more than a floating corpse. It nearly bumped me out of the way when I realized that I could use the colossal carcass to my advantage. It seemed that the current was pulling it towards the shore. If I could climb on top of this thing, I could ride it like a boat. I thought to myself. With not much time to make up my mind, I grabbed onto its tail fluke and hitched a ride. I let out a nearly maniacal laugh at how quickly I was being pulled ashore. I let my body ease up, spreading my legs out, enjoying the simple pleasure of not treading water.
When I built up the strength, I pulled myself up on the tail and scooted across. I did so very carefully, as I was still in very dangerous water. If I were to be too careless, Iâd lose my life vessel forever.
Soon enough, I had reached the body. I scooted more carefully than ever. Once I felt I was relatively safe, I decided to rest. I stretched my legs out in front of me. It was good to see my feet again. I supported myself upright. A sigh escaped my mouth. Now, only my fingertips were in the water. In a surprisingly short amount of time, I had made it much closer to the shore. I could see crabs scuttling across the sand from where I was. A premature smile stretched across my face. At the moment, it seemed that my human ingenuity had saved me in a unique survival situation. That was until a loud splash jolted the carcass sideways, throwing me into the water. Bubbles swarmed me as I struggled to overcome my vertical disorientation. How could I have been so stupid? Why didnât it cross my mind? Dead bodies in the ocean inevitably result in feeding frenzies!
I followed the bubbles back to the surface. But before I could break it, another scavenger brushed against me, spinning me around. I was so close to my victory, yet I was at the mercy of the disorderly ocean. Still, my will to survive was strong. I broke free from the turbulence, kicking and swiping at the water.Â
Upon surfacing, I immediately snapped my neck back and forth, looking for the shore. As soon as I glimpsed it, I fought. I fought with all my might to reach it. I wasnât going to die here. I was going to survive. I wasnât going to die here. I was going to survive. It was simply too late to give up now.
I made it.
I scrambled up the beach until the fine, squishy sand gave way to coarse, dry sand. I collapsed, breathing heavily. Though I did have to pause to cough up large grains I inadvertently inhaled. Wisely, I rolled onto my back and stared up at the sky. I have never been happier to be on dry land. This must be how astronauts feel upon returning to Earth. Only they experienced the spectacle of the cosmos, not the terror of the ocean. While countless others had done the latter, no one had done it in the Cretaceous period. I wasnât just a survivor but also a pioneer. I watched the feeding frenzy in complete safety, pacing back and forth. The sand massaged my feet. It was quite pleasant after my loafers had been choking them for the past few hours. Since there was no one to see me, I had removed all my clothing and set it to dry on a nearby rock. My entire body felt as if it could breathe.
The mosasaur carcass lurched side-to-side. There must have been many more scavengers since I was in there. It felt wrong to be watching the savagery of nature from a place where the dangers couldnât get me. Still, I put my hands on my hips, displayed my nude body, and watched with a smug smile.
That smile slowly melted when a pterosaur dipped down to catch a fish. It would be getting dark soon. I turned around to face the jungle that was behind me. I suddenly felt small and pathetic. I havenât seen any dinosaurs yet, but it was only a matter of time before I did. Not to mention that I was 65 million years from the nearest human. Maybe this wasnât the victory I thought it wasâŚ
Who elseâs birthday is on July 4th? Iâd rather celebrate that insteadâŚ
i think we should bring this back (with some amendments ofc) if we ever needed an "internet etiquette" for the younger generations, now is the moment to remind them. purity culture kills fandom
as well as the three laws of fandom:
Don't Like, Don't Read (DL;DR), Your Kink is not My Kink And That's OK (YKINMKATO) and Ship and Let Ship
đŁ Purity culture kills fandom! đŁ
NO ONE LIVING hasn't been squicked out by something. There's over 7 billion of us, my delights and disgusts aren't universal. So I move on. Don't like the ship? Move on. Don't like____? Move on.
I am not an exception. Neither are you. I don't like it I move on and shut my gob about it because everyone everywhere is squicked out by something and they need to put the thing down and justâŚmotor.
This but also:
Frames this entire post and hangs it over the fireplace.
Never, in a million years, would I ever pursue a walking, talking Gingerbread Man who claims to be faster than me.
The more we learn about the universe, the less wondrous it becomes. Thatâs why we have imagination.
God Bless America
Cory Belmontâs eyes watered as the straps that restrained him to the gurney tightened. It was specifically made for his short stature. The soft pillow his head rested on would be comforting if he didnât know heâd never lift off it. He let out a few hiccupping sobs upon hearing the gentle clatter of a metal tray as it was set on a nearby table. A technician prepped a hypodermic needle, filling it with a lethal sedative.
Coryâs crestfallen family watched as the scene slowly unfolded from behind glass. The chamber where Cory will soon die was brightly lit, while they sat in darkness. They were in a theater that only played harsh realities. The room was completely quiet until a young boy began to weep. âWhy are they going to kill Cory? I donât want Cory to die!â he croaked. His father lifted his chin with a gentle push.
âI know itâs hard, but I want you to watch. Cory isnât your cousin anymore. He chose a life of degeneracy, and heâs now paying the price.â
Coryâs father leaned in. âThis isnât what I wanted from my son. I loved him, taught him right from wrong, and did everything for him. ButâŚâ he paused for a few seconds to wipe his bloodshot eyes. â...heâs too dangerous.â Cory watched as the warden came into view. The man seemed much more intimidating now that he was looking down at him. âDo you have any final words, Cory?â he asked. All he could force out of his mouth was âIâm sorry.â The warden nodded and placed a black sack over Coryâs head. His face was the last thing Cory saw. âThe execution may now proceed.â the warden told the technician.
The family watched the technician wipe Coryâs wrist with antiseptic wipes before piercing his skin with the needle. It was murder. Legal, industrialized, state-mandated murder.Â
After 10 minutes had passed, the warden approached the left side of the window. He pushed a button on the wall and spoke into a microphone.
âThe process is complete. The subject, age 13, has been pronounced dead by our technician. He has been executed for multiple violations of the New Sexual Morality Code, including lewd conduct during audiovisual consumption and unlicensed sexual activity.â
Pawbert Lynxley is the âGarbage Day!â guyâs fursona. Have a nice day.
A Loose Knot (a.k.a. Condemned to Degeneracy)
(TW: Contains themes of religious trauma, sexual shame, and self-harm.)
(Authorâs Note: This is just a short story. However, it is based on my personal experiences, which I have overcome. There is no reason to worry about my personal safety. Suicide is never an option.)
Iâm only 18, and I have already fucked up my life.
It all started when I was 14. My only crime was going to a theater to watch Zootopia, like many other kids my age. However, I must not have had a strong enough belief in God. The tiger dancer, with his skimpy shorts and muscular body, turned me on. Heâs an animal. An animal caused my sexual awakening. That is a sin. One of the worst sins imaginable. Iâm a freak, and Iâm going to Hell. I never chose this. Throughout high school, my friends have had significant others. Theyâve even talked about who their celebrity crushes are. I havenât had either, even as Iâm about to head off to college. All I could think about was the tiger dancer. I havenât dared to tell my family or friends about this. My parents were confused about why I never asked any girls to the school dance or why I refused to read the Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue my dad brought home, thinking Iâd be interested. Iâll never tell them the truth. Iâm a degenerate. Iâll never be able to form a relationship with another human, as Iâve never had the chance to know what it was like to be attracted to them. But I donât want to live a life of sin. I heard that suicide is also a sin, as well, but Iâm sure God will make an exceptionâŚ
***
The knot in my blanket wasnât tight enough. My face slammed against the carpet. Aside from my bleeding nose, I was alright. I looked up at my blanket, hanging from the ceiling fan. I envisioned my own body attached to the other end. I really didnât want my parents to find me like that. Maybe this is what I needed to realize. Iâm much more than a person who is attracted to cartoon animals. I have hobbies, friends, family, and a long life that has barely started. If only I hadnât had to be pushed so far to see it. Still, Iâm not sure what to do. I might not be able to solve this problem on my own. But I definitely wonât be turning towards my friends or the Bible for help. Instead, Iâll turn towards my parents. Theyâll be coming back from the supermarket shortly. Theyâve always said theyâll help me through my issues. I donât know how theyâll process the news that Iâm not just queer, but also attracted to cartoon animals. Though I know theyâll help me through it. Even if it takes a while. Maybe Iâm not such a degenerate after allâŚ
So, me and my friend jokingly started shipping The Count from Sesame Street and Batley from Eureekaâs Castle. Then I started shipping them for realâŚ
A Brief Visit to the Pharmacy
An elderly man entered the drugstore near his house. He took a short, care-free walk to the pharmacy kiosks. He chose the nearest available one.
âWelcome back, Noah Brown.â It spoke to him. âPlease stand still while I scan you.â With a flash of light, it knew his entire medical history since his last visit. Physical examinations and other diagnostic tests have long since been obsolete. âWell, it appears that you have latent colorectal cancer.â This once-alarming news merely made Noahâs eyebrows perk up slightly. âBut thatâs alright. Latent colorectal cancer is quite common for people born in the 2020s, like you. The leading cause is the widespread consumption of foods with red dyes during adolescence. But thereâs nothing to be ashamed of. Weâve all done silly things as youngsters, havenât we?â After paying, the kiosk was vending his medication when a metallic noise was heard. âUh-oh! It appears that I have a problem. A pharmacist will be arriving shortly. Please remain where you are.â A young man went up to the machine, opened it with a key, and gave Noah his bottled medication. âTake each pill with water twice a day for one week. Please come again if symptoms persist.â the kiosk spoke to Noah. He thanked it and left the store. The man barely had a chance to speak. He canât even tell customers how to use the products anymore! Granted, he was thankful that medical science had advanced to the point that cancer was curable with store-bought drugs. But he hated that he spent over a decade studying medicine, only to assist an AI-powered machine, like 83% of the population.
your inner child is so proud of the writer youâve become
The Thinning of the Veil
The time is 3:48 A.M. The date is November 5th. The setting is a small college town in Northern Appalachia. The streets are quiet and dimly lit. The only pedestrian at this hour is Colin Heckman, a college student. He is currently making his way to a convenience store, only a 3-minute walk from his campus. He never wouldâve imagined that this would be a somewhat regular part of his college experience, but here he was. The icy air began its slow strangle of autumn, killing it. Colin had smartly bundled up. Still, invisible iron hands groped his entire body, though only his nose and cheeks were sore. His stingy eyes scanned his surroundings. There seemed to be something lurking in the shadows, even if he couldnât see it. He felt relieved upon arriving at the store. It wasnât the nicest place, not by a long shot. No matter what time or day he went, there seemed to be a methed-out redneck or two. But he mostly ignored them and kept to himself. Besides, it was where he could be safe from the cold, at least. Colin made a subconscious beeline for the snack aisle. He was always interested in seeing if any new tortilla chip or cheese puff flavors were available. Though most of the time, there werenât. Still, he stuffed whatever bags he could find into his tote. Study sessions made him hungry, and the recent midterms proved that exceptionally. As he was making his exchange with the cashier, he noticed a person in the corner of his eye. Turning slightly in that direction, he saw them in greater detail. It was a frail, old woman. Thin gray hair hung from beneath her blue headscarf. She wore a tan nightgown. Her skeletal hands held a black shawl against her body. Her skin was pale and imperfect. Colin ignored her, even as she slowly approached. As she was just a few steps away, he looked back at her. Her nose was hooked. Her left eye was cloudy and dry. Crimson lipstick had sloppily been applied to her face. She resembled a witch, of sorts. Colin turned back to collect his change. Just then, he felt the tip of her nose press against the helix of his ear. She spoke. Not whispered â spoke. âHappy Halloween. Are you scared?â Colin grabbed his stuff and ran out the door. He ran back to his campus, to his dorm, to his dorm room. The entire time, his mind told him that the witch and her army of ghouls were chasing him. He collapsed on his nice, warm bed. It was 4:04 A.M. The witching hour had ended. He was safe. The âwitchâ was Debbie Gerber. She was loved by her family, even with her mental decline and sundowning episodes in recent years. She was found dead on the curb shortly after sunrise.
