#probably warm

[witchstone]

oh to be a pretty little ginger cat snoozing in the dappled shade of the wild mango tree

[inkskinned]

probably time for this story i guess but when i was a kid there was a summer that my brother was really into making smoothies and milkshakes. part of this was that we didn't have AC and couldn't afford to run fans all day so it was kind of important to get good at making Cool Down Concoctions.

we also had a patch of mint, and he had two impressionable little sisters who had the attitude of "fuck it, might as well."

at one point, for fun, this 16 year old boy with a dream in his eye and scientific fervor in heart just wanted to see how far one could push the idea of "vanilla mint smoothie". how much vanilla extract and how much mint can go into a blender before it truly is inedible.

the answer is 3 cups of vanilla extract, 1/2 cup milk alternative, and about 50 sprigs (not leaves, whole spring) of mint. add ice and the courage of a child. idk, it was summer and we were bored.

the word i would use to describe the feeling of drinking it would maybe be "violent" or perhaps, like. "triangular." my nose felt pristine. inhaling following the first sip was like trying to sculpt a new face. i was ensconced in a mesh of horror. it was something beyond taste. for years after, i assumed those commercials that said "this is how it feels to chew five gum" were referencing the exact experience of this singular viscous smoothie.

what's worse is that we knew our mother would hate that we wasted so much vanilla extract. so we had to make it worth it. we had to actually finish the drink. it wasn't "wasting" it if we actually drank it, right? we huddled around outside in the blistering sun, gagging and passing around a single green potion, shivering with disgust. each sip was transcendent, but in a sort of non-euclidean way. i think this is where i lost my binary gender. it eroded certain parts of me in an acidic gut ecology collapse.

here's the thing about love and trust: the next day my brother made a different shake, and i drank it without complaint. it's been like 15 years. he's now a genuinely skilled cook. sometimes one of the three of us will fuck up in the kitchen or find something horrible or make a terrible smoothie mistake and then we pass it to each other, single potion bottle, and we say try it it's delicious. it always smells disgusting. and then, cerimonious, we drink it together. because that's what family does.

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[potato-lord-but-not]

XVII The Star

we didn’t get it right but, love, we did our best

[celmoth]

Rose wearing Ten’s coat

[sp0o0kylights]

Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms. 

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans. 

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at. 

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming. 

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme. 

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym. 

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel. 

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give. 

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

 Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures. 

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.) 

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds. 

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious.  “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.” 

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was. 

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it. 

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome. 

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again. 

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!” 

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!” 

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s. 

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!” 

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.” 

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise. 

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for. 

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.) 

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con. 

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.” 

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of; 

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all. 

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.” 

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this. 

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game. 

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all. 

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.) 

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly. 

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

 “Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?” 

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of  a few silly images.” 

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room. 

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!” 

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air. 

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking. 

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!” 

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed. 

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.) 

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway. 

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.” 

 Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.” 

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

“the point of kintsugi is to treat broken pieces and their repair as part of the history of an object”

David Mitchell // Hanif Abdurraqib // photo by @lakevida // @ashstfu // tiktok comment by @/muddafrigga // Miranda July // Pete Wentz // @jovialtorchlight // caption from Penny Reid [x]

[chloesimaginationthings]

Micheal feeling comfortable enough around Vanessa to show her his scars:

Then Vanny struggling to not make every single interaction with Mike awkward or stressful:

It’s so funny their interactions are totally the opposite

[allshewhispers]

Dazai quickly changing the subject after failing to win Chuuya over with his flirting😭

[ryllen]

x

[isa-belle1367]

Fic idea where Arthur and merlin go hunting (the other knights can also be there. It's up to you, but I'm just gonna do merlin and arthur for this) and they end up having to stay in the woods overnight. Well, arthur gets cold in the middle of the night and reaches over to ask merlin to go get the spare blanket from the horses. He does this by saying some variation of "Merlin, I'm cold." Then merlin, who is half asleep and not really registering what he is saying, just rolls over and sprawls out over arthur and falls back asleep. Arthur has a moment of internal panic before realizing that he is, in fact, very warm like this and decides to just leave it for the morning. They wake up from the best sleep ever, and Merlin is mortified, and Arthur (who already has this whole panic moment) is kinda like🤷🏼‍♂️

[inkskinned]

in internet posts it is easy to cut them out of your life. they are hurting you! they aren't listening to you!

they held your hair back. they lent you lipstick. they held your hand at the train station and got you home safe. they rounded on your bully, got loud, said get fucked, spitting-mad in your defense.

they also cut the hair off again. told you that you should really think twice before wearing something like that. took you for granted. took your insecurities and threw them in your face again.

you know logically it should be easy. all the internet advice comments always read it will feel better. like an equation - if a person is rotten, you just remove them. you pull the tooth that's hurting.

but it was never a big flare-up moment. you don't live in a sitcom. they never tried to take your boyfriend or steal from your apartment. they showed up to birthdays and they wrote songs about you and bring you water without you asking. once you found out they carry an emergency inhaler for you, even though you haven't had an asthma attack in years - just in case.

where is the line? people fuck up. sometimes they fuck up badly. sometimes people have raw personalities, like a powerline, and being around them is dangerous. addicting. sometimes they can't help themselves, but you know they're trying. sometimes they are just rough-around-the-edges. sometimes they don't even realize how they sounded when they said that. sometimes it's just - you've both loved each other for so long now, the way this thing hurts goes back to the root.

and that's the fucked up part. you have pushed your fingers against the sweetheart of memory. things these days are electric, tense, harrowing. they didn't used to be. there were a lot of good days in there. sometimes you want to just close your eyes and say can this be over yet? do we still need to be fighting?

doing that would give up any chance you get of getting an apology, but you don't always know that you need an apology, you love them. once they flaked on your birthday party. once they told you to get over it, people are always dying. they also let you crash on their couch for a week after the breakup, handfeeding you when you were so sad you couldn't eat. they are also judgmental about everything, occasionally react to banal statements with an attitude that is weird and fiery. they also love you like a lighthouse sometimes, so strong they cut the storm like lightning.

but the problem is that you might be storm. you might be the thing that needs breaking. what if you are two forces who are desperately, horribly drawn to each other, shaped by the other person's passions, and both good for each other and bad in equal measure.

what if you're both just people, and you're no saint neither.

just cut them off! swallowing the saltwater, you catch yourself in the mirror. you've been shaking more than usual. there's an ache in you that is oblique, loud, impossible to soothe. is this what it looks like? when life is "easier"?

your mouth will always have a hole, is the thing, if you remove the tooth.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

“zukuu, you have to stop making faces at him.”

insulted, izuku splutters. breaking eye contact to gasp at you.

“ i wasn’t making a face ! was i..?” he trails off, you giggle, you turn your back to your boyfriend once again to continue wiping down the last of the dishes.

“he’ll pout harder if you keep making that scary face.”

“i-i wasn’t trying to scare him !” your boyfriend exclaims, looking at your baby cousin again and slumping when he sees the pout still fixed onto his face, visibly dimming “i don’t understand what i did wrong..”

“zuku, i already told you. kuma always looks like that. you’ll get used to it.” you reassure, a teasing smile on your face. your boyfriend seems undeterred by your explanation and hides his face behind his hands again, peeking through his fingers hoping to see even the minuscule crack of a smile on your younger cousin’s face.

your aunt had asked you to babysit your younger cousin takuma after suddenly being called in for work and having no one to watch over him for the day. you were free, and agreed to help her out, takuma was a sweet little boy and you didn’t get to see him super often. so the more you could the better ! unfortunately this fell on the same day as when your boyfriend was meant to come over to your house, but ever the loving, helpful boyfriend he is, izuku insisted on wanting to come over to help you out. he gets to spend time with you and get along with a cute baby, that sounded like a great time to him. and not to brag, but kids always seemed to love him.

every kid except for takuma apparently. the little boy’s face seemed permanently stuck with a frown. his eyebrows stood furrowed and his chubby pinch-able little cheeks puffed out, obviously unhappy with izuku’s presence.

you’d tried to tell izuku that this was just takuma’s resting face. that he looked at everyone this way and that it always surprised strangers. but as loving and doting as he is, your boyfriend could aslo be endearingly stubborn. he was determined to get takuma to smile at him at least once today. and now it looked like he was trying peekaboo. you couldn’t help but snort at your boyfriend’s laughable attempts at making your little cousin’s poker face crumble. “aw man, that one usually always works..” you hear him mumble. you put the final plate into your cupboard and turn with a sigh.

“izuku.”

“no no, i got it.” without realizing it, izuku’s brows furrowed in concentration, which your baby cousin unfortunately mistook for a challenge, furrowing his eyebrows even harder and even huffing at him. the nail in the coffin it looks like, izuku gasps, looking at your cousin with a betrayed expression “ ah ! what’d i do ?!”

“you were glaring at him !” you giggle, your boyfriend throws his head back, exasperated. you pull out a chair and sit next to him, giggling and pulling on takuma's pudgy cheek. said little boy does not break eye contact with izuku. you can admit he's acting kind of strange. was he actually going out of his way to challenge him ? the thought makes you giggle again. you turn to look at your boyfriend's pouty face looking at the exchange between you and your cousin.

"i didn't mean to glare at him.." he whines, leaning into your touch when you put your hand in his hair.

"i know."

"i felt like we were making progress."

"i..kinda doubt that," you snort, scratching at his green locks. desperately, he looks back at you wide eyed "but we were i swear ! it felt like he was starting to like me !"

"mhm ?" you break into a fit of laughter, and soon after izuku joins you, laughing softly to himself and shaking his head. takuma blinks at you both in confusion, and it makes you smile harder. seeing you laugh so hard makes izuku smile harder too, cheeks glowing a cute pink.

"i..sound crazy don't i ?" he asks, grinning at you. you pretend to think it over to tease him, and he huffs affectionately.

"hmmm, a little." izuku shakes his head, dropping it in shame as he stares at his lap. he heaves a heavy sigh and it makes you giggle a little bit more.

"i really don't know what i'm doing wrong, babies usually like me.."

"but i told you you're not doing anything wrong, izu." you reach to pinch his cheeks next, he yelps a little. "kuma's only lookin' at you 'cus you're new. he'll get used to you in no time, kay ?" you smile. a beat passes and izuku nods, smiling back at you.

"but i don't know, he kinda looks like he has it out for me.." he whispers, you assume so takuma doesn't hear. how thoughtful.

"yeah i did think it was kinda strange how he hasn't stopped looking at you.."

he drops his head back at your words "i thought so..!"

"but that doesn't mean he doesn't like you, per se..maybe he's just weary of you !" izuku leans back, placing a hand over his chest like he's actually been struck. he looks over at takuma still sitting proudly in his high chair like a king.

"what's there to be weary of ? i'm really nice, i promise !" takuma's only answer is a blink "that's really intense.." you're boyfriend sweat drops, "i don't think i've had anyone look at me like that before."

"shouldn't you be used to being glared at by now since you've known bakugou since you were kids ?"

"i don't even think kacchan was this bad." you scoff, slapping at his sturdy arm. "don't say that, you liar !" your boyfriend laughs to himself. struggling to hold your laughter back as you play fight. you're interrupted by takuma's whine. his poker face finally somewhat melting as he pouts, big eyes going glossy as he reaches out for you with chubby little fingers. you immediately zoom over to the child's side.

"aaww babyy," you coo "you wanna be wif me, yeah ? cuutieeee," your voice rises up an octave. izuku blushes at how cute you look and he hates himself for feeling a smidge jealous your cousin had managed to grab your attention. he shakes his head to rid himself of those childish thoughts.

you hop the baby up in your arms to readjust him, tickling his little tummy which earns you a giggle, izuku feels his jaw drop to the floor so hard if he were in a cartoon it'd make a comically loud clang sound, now he's a bit jealous of you.

"i think he's a little hungry, i'll be right back izu." you press a quick kiss to his cheek before bounding off to go get the toddlers bag that your aunt had entrusted to you in your room. the little contact alone makes heat blossom all the way to izuku's neck and he can't fix his lips to say anything, nodding dumbly.

the last thing he sees before you leave the room is takuma's gaze fixed to him. izuku sends him a determined smile and a wave. he'll win him over soon enough.

[gallusgalluss]

a bit hard to solve

[wild0moon]

highly amused by the responses to my tankdad post all being either feral excitement over tankdad (same) or thirsting for john's body with very little in-between

[deerspherestudios]

hmm, Mychael likes earth-toned clothes, and green and brown are cool, but does he have a favorite color?

With confidence I can say I haven't answered his favorite color yet; something in me says: yellow 💛🌻☀️!