"i Don't Watch Euphoria" Bitches Are Starting To Be Just As Annoying As The People Who Do Watch It Like

If you wanted, I'd love to read something about a god and their favorite priest. Maybe other priests thinking they're a heretic, or thinking they're not pious enough. Or the god and the priest having a disagreement about ethics.

Your brothers pray to me for your salvation.

Daniel shivered at the god's voice - always somewhere between familiar and unfamiliar, ever-changing and ever-them all at once. He couldn't say for certain if the great one spoke aloud or in his head or both. All he knew was that when the god was there, the rest of the world fell away. Gods were like that. They did not share with anything.

"Don't hurt them," Daniel said. "They do not know what they ask."

They call you a sinner. A heretic. They think that the devil has claimed you.

"I know what they say. I'm blind, not deaf. I still ask you to spare them."

They say your name like it is a synonym for a problem, for some terrible unspeakable disappointment. I know you are angry too. I can taste it in you like poison that tries too hard to be sweet.

Daniel swallowed.

At first, the god had visited him only when he prayed, in the deepest recess of the temple. With time, though, the god could appear anywhere. In Daniel's dreams, or when he was tending the garden with the sunshine warming his skin, or sometimes the god would even speak with Daniel's mouth or move with his body.

The other priests always hated it when the god did that.

They wish to save you by cutting me from you like a cancerous limb. It is an insult. You are mine.

A god's favour was a dangerous thing in the wrong hands.

A careless vengeful whisper to a god could raze cities, if the god in question was inclined to be indulgent, and the god usually was when destruction and sacrifice was involved these days. Not enough to tip the scales, to suck dry the well of believers that gave them power, but enough to remind humans every so often that they were but temporary residents in somebody else's doll house.

A god's favour was a dangerous thing, because they did not suffer kindly those who would harm their favoured in any way.

A god's favour could swallow a human whole.

Their god was certainly a vengeful god, but Daniel could understand that. They shared the same fury. The difference was that Daniel buried his rage and the god did not believe in such things.

But the priests, after all, only whispered their untruths about Daniel. They preached their lies about the great one loudly like it was fact, so loudly that they never stopped once to listen in the temple silence. Their prayers were demand masked as entreaty. Their love was fickle, yet it did not occur that the god who made them might feel fickle also as the centuries slipped by.

To the other priests, the god's own voice was blasphemy.

Daniel removed his hands away from the temple floor and offered them into the darkness, to the velvet night that came before all things and had since been shunned.

The god took them.

You see me, and they hurt you.

The god's voice grew softer.

I could burn their eyes out for their blindness. Maybe then they will see. Maybe then they will not be so arrogant as to question my choices.

Daniel released another steadying breath, his heart pounding. "They will learn, with time. I am not asking you for their sake, i am asking you for mine. They will call you a demon and make you one with their convictions - I prefer you as you are."

Not good, exactly. But not bad either. Their god was a creature of balance, viciously protective, and hopelessly lonely. Screaming out in the dark not to be forgotten.

Daniel knew that feeling too.

The silence stretched between them, and then they felt the press of the god's lips upon their brow, or something similar. Something that mimicked humanity because it was the only way they could talk.

I will not hurt them. Not yet. But if they lay one hand on you...

The temple would run red with blood.

The priesthood had no idea how many times Daniel had saved their stupid lives.

this is who i want to be but i cant stfu

So you’re telling me this is a 40 year old man? Most men I know that are in their 40s look so drastically different??! He’s immortal and he’s not fooling me.

Exhibit A: look at his eyes. Why are they always so black? Witchcraft I tell you.

Just so we’re all clear on where I stand: Black lives matter, trans women are women, trans men are men, nonbinary people are beautiful, asexual/aromantic folks have a place in the LGBTQ community, Queer is not a dirty word, and being “anti fascist” is a moral position, not a political one.

It’s just, like… it’s embarrassing. I feel like a… a fraud. EUPHORIA: FUCK ANYONE WHO’S NOT A SEA BLOB (2021)

THE CHILLS ALL OVER MY BODY

when Florence Welch said “but did I dream too big? do I have to let it go? and what if one day there is no such thing as snow?”

and when Mitski said “venus, planet of love, was destroyed by global warming; did its people want too much too? did its people want too much?”

Witness the moment part of Ben’s soul leave his body

parties ?

Looking for Alaska (2019)

Skins UK (2007)

Euphoria (2019)

i thought everyone was kind of, a little bit... exaggerating. i had been in love, but it wasn't like that. the world was still just-the-world. the sky was lovelier next to them, yes, but love wasn't the awe i had heard about. it was deft and sly and beautiful - but i was sort of privately scornful of true love as a concept. i thought that poets are often full of drama - i'm a poet, after all. all the crying and sighing and world-shifting. i thought - nobody actually loses their appetite, nobody actually gets butterflies. people like to believe they're in love a lot, and the placebo effect will do things to you. no wonder other people lost sleep - i thought: well, that makes sense for them, but it is not going to happen for me.

and then i met her. and then it was real, and i knew something had opened that could never go back to sleep.