#sorry mutuals if you see this

[xanrab]

Hey mutuals if you ever wanna message me literally feel free. I want more friends but I’m scared I’m imposing on people not gonna lie.

I give y’all blanket permission to infodump to me without pretext btw. Tell me what y’all are into seriously I will not only listen but I will try to reciprocate in whatever way I can

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[arsenicflame]

Bonus round! Do you use a queue tag?

[devilzfruit]

palestinians that have reached out to me & links to donate to them:

• @dodooomar 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at kr156,119 of kr300,000

• @ghaziyounes1967 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $4,431 of $50,000

• @abood-gaza2 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $4,824 of $40,000

• @asmaayyad 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at €13,466 of €45,000

• @helpamalm 's gofundme & main post -- unverified -- currently at €332 of €53,000

• @farohablogsworld 's gofundme & main post -- verified by association -- currently at €828 of €32,000

• @fidaa-family2 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $19,000 of $30,000

• @wafaaresh6 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at $6,104 of $50,000

• @keensaladbanana 's gofundme & main post -- verified by association -- currently at kr3,121 of kr350,000

• @ahmed-ziad 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at £10,017 of £30,000

• @yasermohammad 's gofundme & main post -- verified -- currently at €18,935 of €35,000

• @shadowyavenuetaco 's gofundme & main post -- verified by association -- currently at £3,020 of £50,000

[forsworned]

I feel like if the boys didn't join the miltary they'd all be blue-collar workers. Like they'd be more than happy to work with their hands and have the thrill of doing dangerous jobs. It's grueling work but someone's gotta do it ;)

Like for take for example, Simon. He's an experienced welder and his hands are almost always soot covered and you're constantly scolding him for it. Scrubbing away at his calloused palms with mechanic's hand soap, getting into all the crevices and cracks. He's smirking down at you while you get to work and glance up at him for a moment, narrowing your eyes at him in a way that sends him chuckling.

He gently cups your face, "so pretty when you're all worked up, lovie." he coos. And you can't help but let your smile fall through the cracks as you pinch his side, sending the both of you into a fit of mirth before he tugs your form flush against his chest, leaving you a flustered, stammering mess.

masterlist

[tinystepsforward]

i see matt posted again

[marc--chilton]

house, in wilson's office, trying to rile him up because he's bored: sorry i can't fuck you like we used to, bum leg and all

wilson, who has not looked up from his paperwork since house came in: love finds a way

house: (zeroes in on wilson like he can see through him) i never said anything about love

wilson, still unbothered: we've been friends for close to twenty years. usually when you know someone that long you start to pick things up about them

cue house leaving without another word and wilson smiling smugly to himself for his Mind Tricks

[hairmetal666]

Eddie's supposed to be writing. The guys, they all agreed they'd each come to practice armed with two whole new songs they could pick from to add to their set list at the Hideout. And he's got his pen, and he's got his most recent trusty Composition Book, and all his lyrics are fucking bullshit about golden tanned skin and honeyed eyes and tracing constellations in freckles and moles, pathetic lines about being twisted in bed sheets, and the hopeless love he found himself in.

For the fifth time in an hour, he rips out the offending page, crunches it into a tight ball, and throws it across the room.

He can't write about Steve Harrington for the rest of his life; spend his nights aching for the boy who established himself as a fixture in Eddie's life and then just disappeared.

The worst of it--the very worst--is that Eddie knew better. Steve was never his, not in any real way, no matter how many times they fucked. He's Steve Harrington. Straightest guy in Hawkins. Popular. Rich. Whole fucking life laid out for him on a silver platter. And Eddie fell for him. It's the Munson curse, he supposes; always wanting what you can't have.

It started the way these things usually do, "got any weed?" and "come back to my place, Harrington" and "I got this stupid job at the mall, meet me there?" and lying "hey, guys, can't make band practice, gotta help Uncle Wayne" and "Munson, I really want--can I kiss you?"

In every other fantasy Eddie's ever had, it ends there. Steve gets his kiss and they never see each other again. But Steve Harrington--he's full of surprises. It catches Eddie off guard, makes him want, makes him trust. Because it's not just kisses. It's hands and mouths and "anything you want, Eddie. Let me make you feel good."

Maybe it wouldn't have hit so hard--maybe Eddie could've stopped from falling--if Steve hadn't been so good. Bitchy, sure, but genuine and kind. Had this whole gaggle of junior high kids he babysat, like what the fuck. Would hang out with Wayne and shoot the shit about whatever sports nonsense was on tv. Harrington never was as mean, as spoiled, as superficial as Eddie suspected.

Then Starcourt. That's when it all changes. Steve stops coming around then, in the aftermath. It hurts, but Eddie tells himself it's for the best. Now, he knows it would have been.

Two weeks with no contact, and Steve shows up at his door in the middle of the night. Eddie winces at the healing bruises and cuts on his face, can't imagine how much worse they were to start. He steps aside, lets Steve in, plans to say that he can't be whatever they are anymore.

Steve kisses him. It's a hot, needy thing, wild with teeth and tongue, nothing like before. Eddie is helpless to it, helpless to the way Steve grinds against him, already hard. He should slow it down, check-in that Steve is in the right headspace for this, but Steve is moaning low in his throat and Eddie can't think.

They're in Eddie's bed and Steve says, "fuck me, Eddie?" and Eddie says "are you sure" because he can't stop himself. Steve rolls his eyes (beautifuly bitchy), says, "I need to feel you inside me, baby."

How can Eddie say no?

Eddie's never done this before, but it doesn't matter. It's everything--Steve is everything--he could ask for.

The next morning, he expects Steve to be gone. Thinks they'll never see each other again. But he finds Steve in the kitchen, in his boxers and Eddie's Iron Maiden shirt, making eggs and talking to Wayne like it's the most normal thing in the world.

The next month and a half are the best of Eddie's life. He and Steve spend more time together than they do apart. Nights at Eddie's trailer, in Eddie's bed. Days lounging at the Harrington pool and driving around the nothing that surrounds Hawkins. Sometimes they'll stop in the middle of nowhere, climb on top of the van, and just--be. Steve takes his shirt off, and Eddie traces their names in the sun-soaked freckles, thinking maybe he really gets to have this, have Steve.

It ends as quickly as it started. One morning in September, Steve is cupping Eddie's neck, pulling him in for a goodbye kiss, saying, "sorry, baby, gotta get home for my parents. I'll see you later tonight, yeah?"

Except Eddie doesn't. Eddie doesn't see Steve that night, or the night after, or the night after that. He stops coming around and all Eddie is left with is a broken heart and these piss poor excuses for songs.

He rips out the latest page, waxing lyrical about the wonders of August, and time slipping away, and the boy he'll never forget. Crumples it into a ball and bats it into a pile of junk accumulated in the corner of his room.

Eddie needs a break.

He flies into the living room, snatches up his keys from the floor by the coffee table, and flees his house and all those memories of Steve. It's not like he has anywhere specific to go, so he drives around town, with his windows down and his music up.

His tires screech as he rounds the corner to the video store and arcade. He's not planning on stopping, but honestly, maybe a few rounds of Space Invaders is exactly what he needs.

The van hasn't even come to a stop in the parking spot when his eyes fall on Steve Harrington. He's standing in the middle of the parking lot surrounded by a gang of kids (including some of Eddie's new little sheepies) and Robin Buckley. Steve wears a sunny yellow sweatshirt, tight jeans, and his hair is perfectly coifed, falling in an elegant wave. His hands are on his hips, mouth and brows pinched stern. He's gorgeous, perfect.

It's an assault, an attack, Eddie's entire body shakes as the months they spent together crash over him. He has the van in reverse before he consciously thinks to do so, flooring it out of the space hard enough to burn rubber.

The noise, the speed, it draws the entire group's attention to him.

His eyes meet Steve's.

Time stops and so does he, idling in the middle of the parking lot. For a second, one moment in time, Steve's face falls. His mouth loses that grumpy pinch, his eyebrows drop, his beauty transformed by grief, by fucking longing.

Steve takes a step forward, and Eddie hits the gas, van screaming out of the parking lot. He watches the group shrink in his rearview mirror, sure that he imagined the sorrow in Steve's face, anyway.

They're nothing to each other.

Never were.

By popular request: Part Two

[dyed-indigo]

started reading these books because a friend of mine likes them and i am hooked please for the love of god help me. anyway i'm reading book 5 and this scene immediately made me think of this meme so. sorry.

[mof17]

Day 3

prompts were:

Neck Kiss / Sculk / Masquerade

@scarian-smooch-fest

[heartorbit]

a mob of emus for an artstyle game on twt! ^_^

[inkskinned]

am i gonna put you in the book acknowledgements am i gonna be able to say your name without flinching am i ever gonna get a word in edgewise am i ever gonna recover the time i spent with you. computer virus kid; i arrived in your life already begging to be let in. somehow insecure i could even be your friend. like you had a line outside the door and we were all shifting our weight, begging.

you're so fucking good at that - at making people feel like they need to earn you, like you're a commodity none of us can afford. no kindness or careful communication could work on you - you were so good at just going-ghost, about deciding someone just wasn't cool-enough. something about that is super ironic. even the parts of it that weren't romantic felt like a romance book. i wanted you to like me so badly i scrubbed myself clean just so you'd spare me - what. your favor? a look?

okay okay okay. it's just a friendship - if it was even true that we were friends, if you even saw me as someone you trusted. on reddit someone would tell me girl literally just cut her out of your life, it's not that difficult. even i was aware of how fucked up the whole situation was. like, why the fuck do i even care about your approval? you're like, not even that fun to be around. you are often a little bit cruel.

but for almost four years of my life, i thought i had found someone like me. somebody who liked the same things i do. someone who liked to read and who liked making jokes with esoteric references and who spent maybe too much time on the internet and who was absolutely a little bit pretentious. i don't know, something about that was powerful and addictive.

i keep thinking about our last conversation. about how i said - okay, enough is enough. you pushed me too far, you really hurt my feelings.

and how you laughed and said - you think you're the victim?

[msnihilist]

"We couldn't want you anymore if we tried."

[soullessjack]

yea miraculous sucks but honestly they kinda popped off with a magical cat boy whose special magical weapon against evil is a lead pipe and the special magical power of stage 4 necrosis

[filletedfennysnake]

@caleblandrybones I cannot stop thinking about this

[pigswithwings]

idk like. jesus did know his time was limited, but for how long did he know it? do you think he watched the sky before he went to sleep and knew it would be one of his last sunsets? did he reach out to the orange wavering sun as if to hold it in his hand? frowning when it didn't burn? did he bite into a fig during supper and cry at its sweetness? kneel down next to a dog running in the road and marvel at the existence of life, whisper to it "tomorrow is my last, please keep me in your mind"? did he try and stay up long past everyone else to savor the night, the light of the stars, the sound of the wind? maybe he longed. yearned. i think he wanted a lot of things very badly before he had the time to say it