tired

asian. she/her.

[lqtraintracks]

Okay, so do vampires drink from arteries or veins or both? Asking for a friend.

[l0vegl0wsinthedark]

@lqtraintracks This drew me in too easily, what the hell 👏😂

[renthebarbarian]

This guy is the Gordon Ramsey of blood.

“THIS BLOOD HAS SO MUCH FUCKING ACID IN IT, I’M SEEING TECHNICOLOR DEMONS!!!”

[anotherdayforchaosfay]

@vampireapologist

[salarta]

“I’ve never met a vampire” exactly what a vampire would say.

[awhimsicallaugh]

Very suspicious about this “educated guess”

[asgardian-viking]

A medical student? Nice try Dr. “Acula”

[rehfan]

That last comment had me scrolling to the top of the article to see the person’s actual name.

[pawcakes]

i am so delusional but like i know whats going on

[loneliestgirl15]

I like listening to ppl talk so i can see whats normal and whats not normal

[love-buckybarnes]

[oe6]

[berylliumoxide]

[living-in-bed]

For someone who is tired 100% of the time, I sure am bad at sleeping.

[notlindsay]

one time i actually thought i had a chance with someone 

[ashstfu]

january 2022 keeps testing me like im mentally stable or something

[dankmemeuniversity]

[l0ve-bun]

i’m pretty sure at this point if someone held me tenderly id just black out

[stuckinapril]

legally an adult, mentally still a child chasing butterflies on spring days that will forever play like a broken record in my mind

[hoseoch]

“what are you gonna do, cry about it?” yes . the fuck

[googifs]

Brain cells in culture trying to make new connections

[bogleech]

Trillions of these make you everything you are and you wonder why you have problems, like look at these clowns

[mango-pickle]

for a culture with so many 'romantic' songs and such an obssession with romance in films, we sure do hate the sight of two people holding hands

[wilderficreblogs]

which y/n stereotype are you?

[boyfriendsmalec]

“Marry me.”

Pran stilled. Pat’s breath was still warm against his lips, his hair sweat-damp, his eyes shiny and warm, and just slightly unfocused. Pat looked positively love-drunk. Pran could imagine he looked the same.

“You’re just saying that because of the orgasm,” Pran said, warm and slow. His body felt like molasses, his limbs undone, his body sagged against Pat’s.

Pat shot him a mock-offended look, tugging Pran closer to him, hand firm on his waist. Despite only recently coming down from his high, the movement sent sparks across Pran’s skin, and he couldn’t help but lean in closer.

“I’m not joking, Pran,” Pat said, with a slight frown.

“We’ve been dating for three months–”

“Technically we’ve been dating for five,” Pat countered, eyebrows furrowing. "If you count the bet."

“We’re sophomores in college–”

“So the college part is the problem? Fine, we’ll wait until we’re out of college,” Pat said with a simple shrug. “I can wait two more years.”

“You know the architecture program is five years instead of four, right?” Pran raised an eyebrow.

Pat made a sound of distaste and Pran couldn’t help but tuck his face into Pat’s shoulder to cover his laugh.

“Fine, three years,” Pat capitulated. “We’ll have a long engagement. And I’ll support you as your fiancé in your final year at university.”

“Oh so we’re engaged now?” Pran pulled back to raise a challenged eyebrow. “You decided that?”

“I mean you haven’t disagreed.”

“I haven’t agreed to anything either.”

“Alright then. Say ‘yes,’ Pran.”

Pran pulled his lips into a firm line. “No.”

Pat’s face dropped a little.

“What if I want to be the one to ask you?” Pran questioned, and slowly Pat’s face began to light up again.

“It’s too late, I already asked you. You lost.”

“You think that was a proper proposal?” Pran’s lips twisted as he tried to hide his smile. “Asking me to marry you after coming inside me for the first time? You think that’s the story I want to tell our kids?”

Pat groaned. “Praaan.”

“Our first time was that good for you?”

“I would hardly call that our first time.”

“Alright, fine. First time having penetrative sex.”

“Well yes it was good for me. And it wasn’t for you?” Pat huffed, before Pran’s earlier words finally began to really settle into his head. “Wait did you just suggest having children together in the future?”

Pran’s face, against his better wishes, began to heat up. “I, uh–”

“You want to have a family with me,” Pat teased, poking at Pran’s cheek.

Pran tried his very best to give what he hoped was a heated look.

“So you want to have kids with me, but you won’t marry me?” Pat jutted his bottom lip out.

“Shut up,” Pran darted his tongue out. "I hate you."

“You weren’t saying that five minutes ago,” Pat grinned, hand slowly making his way south of Pran’s waist.

“Pat,” Pran started in a warning tone.

Pat tutted, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “You’re no fun.”

“That’s not what you were saying five minutes ago,” Pran threw back at him.

Pat’s eyes glinted and his hands cupped Pran’s face. “Want to play a game?”

“What kind of game?” Pran asked, skeptical.

“First one to say, ‘I love you’ loses.”

“That’s it?” Pran laughed. “Fine, you’re on.”

“Okay,” Pat grinned, leaning forward to peck Pran’s lips. “In that case, I love you, Pran. So will you please, please marry me?”

Pran couldn’t help the laughter that burst out of him. “What kind of game is that? You purposefully lost a second later.”

“I always let my lover win,” Pat smiled, giving him a wink. “Because that’s just the kind of husband I am.”

“Husband?” There was something about the word that sent a wave of emotions coursing through Pran. It felt like something Pran had always longed for. That he thought he could never have. Never with Pat.

“I’ll be yours if you let me,” Pat said, his voice low. Steady. No hint of hesitation. No doubt cast in his eyes. “Marry me?”

Pran couldn’t help but think of their parents at that moment. Their friends knew and accepted them, but their parents were still in the dark. Neither Pat nor Pran addressed that fact. Neither wanted to think about it. To think about the chaos that would erupt when their parents discovered they were together.

But in that moment Pran began to realize maybe he was meant for a different kind of family than the one he grew up in. Maybe even if his parents didn’t accept him, didn’t accept their love, maybe it’d be okay.

And at this point Pran was greedy. He didn’t want to let Pat go. And if his parents truly loved him, they would come around. They would have to. And if they didn’t… well then, Pran was willing to let them go. For this. For this love. For Pat.

“Yes,” Pran whispered, and the smile that spread across Pat’s face was something that Pran knew would make all the pain worth it. Even if he lost one family, he’d gained another in Pat. His boyfriend. No. His fiancé. His husband-to-be. His best friend.

“I love you so much,” Pat said, his voice reverent, like Pran was something to be worshipped, before he dragged Pran in for a kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

They got out the words between their soft kisses before it began to fall into something deeper and headier and suddenly Pran was being rolled onto his back again. He let his eyes fall closed, arms wrapping around Pat’s shoulders, kissing him hard and fast and with everything in him, only half-hearing the sound of Pat scrabbling for the condom box with his free hand.

Pran didn’t really understand the term making love meant until that night. But now he knew. Because when Pat was with him, all he could feel was that love coursing through him. Pat inside him, Pat all around him, Pat encompassing him and everything he was and would ever be.

But it still didn’t stop Pran from saying afterwards:

“We’re never telling our kids the story of how we got engaged.”

[hellourr]

If being miserable was a job is I'd be filthy rich