TO LOVE ME IS TO SUFFER ME

🧿 Ren | He/Him | 18+ | LIKE PHANTOMS FOREVER 🧿

[tiesilencer]

T4T Kylux (Or rather, BenHux) as trans-coded lyrics.

Snippets from my Kylux fic The Unforgivable

[Lyrics: Nettles, Ethel Cain//Mama, MCR//Ambulance, MCR//Mr. Capgras Encounters A Second Hand Vanity, Will Wood]

[heartlikehome]

stills from the heart

[throatoftheworld]

The Hill of Slain by Ted Nasmith, 2004

[throatoftheworld]

Death and the Maiden (1908) by Marianne Stokes

[beammeuphux]

The first of my TikTok videos reposted to Tumblr. I posted Hux Valentine's Day cards before this on my TikTok profile. Since someone else made those (Idk who) and you can just search them, I'm not posting them here. This is a template.

Caption: No caption

Song: Lady Gaga - Just Dance

[tankhall]

In 2018, I wrote down a passing thought in my cheap little leather-bound journal I was writing a collection of songs in that would go on to become Preacher’s Daughter. “If I finish this album the way it needs to be finished, it will change my life, and it will leave a hole in my heart for years that I won’t know how to fill.” I’ve always had a knack for eerily accurate self-premonition. Preacher’s Daughter certainly left a hole, and it certainly changed my life, but only on the outside. All the songs I wrote for it were about characters, a girl in a “faraway” place living her “faraway” life, albeit still parallel to mine, but wholly detached from me. Willoughby was doomed to be closer to home. I wrote Nettles and Waco the same week, the first week I spent in the Alabama house where I would finish Preacher’s Daughter after so many years of trying. The difference was I wrote them about me. There were no characters at first; it was just me. In fact, I wrote them in an attempt to hide from Ethel Cain for a moment. She eventually devoured those little ditties too, of course, as she always does. In hindsight, I’m glad I had to share them with her. I couldn’t have carried the full weight of them myself, I know that now. My premonitions were out in full force; over the course of the next few years, I’d script out my own life in the same morbid fashion I always have. Maybe it was a lesson in not training my eye downward as I’ve spent the majority of my life doing.

I had 3 weeks for the holidays between mixing and submitting Perverts and jumping back into the maw of taming an unfinished Willoughby Tucker. I spent the first three months of 2025 on probation, unable to go much of anywhere, awake only when the sun was down. I’d never mixed a record of that magnitude, which was daunting with deadlines immovable. I remember 9am on my 27th birthday rolling around after being awake for hours whittling away at mixes, announcing the album and entire tour before going back to mix an album that still wasn’t done. I’ve never cried so much finishing a record, and that was before it was even out. Combining your Saturn return, your first shot at true love, and the longest tour of your life is something I would never recommend to anyone. It was the death of both ego and everything around it. I couldn’t be more grateful. Never in my life have I been so turned inside out, so uprooted and unraveled. Looking back, I needed it more than anything.

Thank you to everyone who listened. Ethel Cain and Willoughby Tucker will always be my children, my burnt offerings, what I leave in the storm. Sometimes I wish it didn’t have to be this way, but I also fear it’s the only way. Ethel Cain, Willoughby Tucker, I really will always love you. I feel as though in this moment here, saying goodbye, you and I are closer than ever. I hope you can forgive me.

[darthnostra]

*staring into the middle distance* I still think about Hux on Starkiller Base with snow on his eyelashes

[cndcrd]

sad space boi 🌌

[arctasy]

when the character is obsessive and desperate and guilty and scared and ashamed and traumatized and repressed

[deaddeerbody]

[deaddeerbody]

[shisasan]

I have your letter, your precious letter that comforts me with every word, that caresses me as with a strong, surging wave, that surrounds me as with gardens and builds up heavens over me, that makes me happy and able to say to you that I long for you

August 11, 1900 Rilke and Andreas-Salomé: a love story in letters (1897-1926)

[neonelven]

[nixscriptum]

[r4dclouds]

[mysilent879]

[twinktorturer]

pornhub.com/ frail men fainting

pornhub.com/frail 18th century men passing out from blood loss after the doctor bleeds them

google

google . fragile 18th century men coughing delicately and fanting