And What If I Reached The Stars? Did They Find Me?

“and what if i reached the stars? did they find me?”

he looked down at the avenues and streets below his feet.

and so, he leaped.

I need to watch more European football!

I didn’t know that anybody begged for the opposite end of what I desire.

It’s not until this post can I put words into for what I’ve longed, what I’ve lacked in firsthand experience by the limitations this body brings.

I didn’t know that someone and others can or want to feel the need of what I just want to provide by default. All I know is how to give love, though I grieve at my hardship in not knowing how to receive adoration. This post takes what leaves me broken, shattered, but melts it into a new material. I’ve felt the fragility of glass, but it’s the reflective and refractive heat of metal that desire brings intimacy into the forge.

I freeze. Genuinely, I blame myself for having to survive, having to feel the absences from all of the trust I’ve lost. It weighs and remains true to this day. I live in the constance of confusion, the multitude of grievances I feel between pleasure and violation. The avoidance through solace is an apprehension that brings inconvenience by the senses survival is brought upon by traumas and tragedies.

I may appear to walk casually or nonchalantly, but there’s a slight heaviness within my gait. I find safety in the feeling of not needing to know words to simply walk over and straddle myself to a lovingly and welcomingly lap—I cry and whimper. My heart, it achingly flutters and palpitates as a response from everlasting hurts I’ve encountered.

I do get overwhelmed. I’m tender and vulnerable, and it’s exhausting in a world that is incentivized to prey upon anything within my queerness that cannot be commodified or sold. I have to rest, and I need the reassurance of protection and safety. In such, I dig deeply into being wrapped by those arms in the art of contortion and nuzzling, embracing the human need for touch within vulnerable adoration.

I want to feel human and for once feel the need to apologize for my humanity.

hello universe i don’t often beg but i am here on my KNEES asking you for a boy who will casually walk over to me and without saying anything will straddle himself over my lap, wrap his arms around me, nuzzles his face into my body, and asks for me to hold him. i want someone who makes me die a little on the inside each time i feel him because my heart is so overwhelmed with love and adoration for him. i am a simple man, and my desires for a guy who inspires a deep need to protect, fawn over, take care, tease, and shower in love has reached a critical breaking point.

to all my fellow queerdos and theybys out there 🖤✨

Even if you get frequently misgendered by people, or they disrespect your pronouns, you are still valid and you still matter to a whole lot of people you may not realize.

Thick guys in gear that make them look thicker is just a thick slice of heaven.

One of the fantasies I’ve had for so many years involves the scene of being a service sub for the football team, particularly the linebackers and all the thick guys playing. Despite knowing nothing about sports and knowing that I will never understand about the rules, the rigidities, and the way people center it as their religion where I’m from puts me in the perfect and advantageous “position” to just stay here in my own lane as cute, dumb, slutty, and small for the raging guts and arms of men who pulse testosterone. What if there’s a regulation of some nature where there needs to be a tiebreaker and they bring me out to be fucked by the two opposing team captains to break the tie in front of the audience be being fucked. It’s a win-win. 🥵🥵🥵👉👈

Parker Boudreaux

Us football 🏈

I love these big boi “fit-to-fat” thirst blogs so much. Like, yes please, show us your journey from twunk to dummy thiccc everyday. 🌈💯