#til that day

[r1ghtwhereyouleftme]

"Taylor was struggling to breathe at her concert because she mocked god"

A) she literally didn't do anything of the sort

B) it was a heatwave

C) plenty of things have been projected onto that statue but you're not saying shit about that are you

D) the fans of Brazil wanted that on the statue. Are you gonna say that girl died bc she "mocked god"? Are you gonna say peoppe were passing out because they "mocked god"? No? Didn't fucking think so bitch

F) fuck god and all you assholes riding his dick. I'm really fucking tired of people using some most likely not real all powerfully being to hurt people

[grabyoursaintsandpray]

How it started Vs How it's going

X-Men: The Animated Series

X-Men '97

[trainstationgoodbye]

Let's not get caught. Let's keep going. Thelma & Louise (1991) dir. Ridley Scott

[mirrorhouse]

Louis & Daniel talking on the balcony — 1.01 -> 2.08

[moonlitkissing]

I need my sweet boy on top of me, humping my thigh with his head buried in my neck so i can play with his hair and whisper to him how pretty he is right then

[heartorbit]

stay warm! 🌟🍬🤖🎈

[daily-dragon-drawing]

#28 -折紙 (origami) - Please be gentle when you hold him, he's a bit fragile 📐✂️🖍️

[mangosaurus]

"jungle boy" this and "island man" that. well what about SPIDER MONKEY 🐒

[hgedits]

I'm...you're not my type. I can tell. So you're into– yeah.

[daeyumi]

“Tell me… Do you ever feel a strange sadness as dusk falls?” 🌅🦅

[Linktober 2022 Day 1: Bird]

[sunlit-mess]

yea

[journey-to-the-attic]

one thing about ik is that she will always reach out

[bi-writes]

ghost always gets what he wants. (18+, blood kink, dark)

right now, what he wants is sitting across the pub from him. she's smiling, swinging her legs a little as she talks to the bloke next to her. he's leaning into her space, making her laugh, buying her drinks and keeping her smiling and a little drunk. he's putting it on heavy, ghost can tell--actively listening to her, engaging in the conversation, never letting her add her drink to any tab but his own.

ghost tilts his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth under the mask. that man wouldn't know what to do with that kind of a girl. she's all woman, soft skin, wide hips, a pair of tits he knows would feel like welcome weights between the palms of his gloved hands, pouty lips that deserved to be kissed and bitten and sliding along the length of a cock that can fill her up and choke her from the inside out.

that's what pretty girls like her deserve--to be fucked spineless, to be reduced to nothing but a teary, whimpering mess. a muppet like that would never know what to do with her, how to touch her, how to make her sing.

she's a soft thing. a pretty thing. and he wants her, so he will have her.

you exit the bathroom, a skip in your step as you shuffle outside. he said he would get a car, take you home, and you bounce on your toes as you wait by the curb, looking around the empty parking lot for your ride. but after a few minutes, you turn your head each way, and you realize no one is here, and there is no car coming.

you fully spin around when a dark figure comes out from behind the alleyway. big boots crunch the gravel underneath, and when he comes under the light of the streetlamp, you take a small step back.

the light cuts an angle over his face. you swallow, taking in the breadth of him, tilting your head to look up at him as he steps closer. his mask covers most of his face, and the eyeblack clouds his skin, but you can see the determination in his eyes. it is in the rigidness of his shoulders, the way he stands--and it is the pass of a tactical knife over his chest that you understand the danger that one person can impose.

he wipes one side of it over his dark jacket, stepping closer, until he's in your space, hovering over you. your lips part as he brings the knife down, pressing the other side of it against your throat. you tense a little as he meets your eyes, passing it over until the blood against the sharp edge wipes off, staining the skin of your neck.

he pauses when he sees the hint of a smile on your face. he narrows his eyes, expecting fear, expecting something other than the interest that sparkles in your eyes. like you are all-knowing. like you see everything he is, everything he is not, and like you know what it is he wants.

"i see you," you whisper. "all the time."

ghost sniffs, glaring, and you keep your eyes on his as he drags the knife down your chest, the tip of it moving down between your breasts.

"you're not very subtle," you finish. "quite obvious, what it is that you do...why you do it."

ghost tilts his head to the side, clicking his tongue, and you almost giggle.

"is tha' right, swee'eart?"

you nod.

"been waiting," you say softly.

"for wot?"

you smile.

"for you to make your move," you murmur. your eyes flicker down, eyeing the blood on the front of his jacket. you look up into his eyes again, pursing your lips, and ghost bites his tongue hard enough to draw blood. fuck, the same thing he sees in his dreams, it's in your fucking eyes. you're not afraid, and it angers him, repulses him, and fulfills him all the same. "hmm...you didn't approve of him?"

ghost growls, "was a right muppet. cried like a baby."

your tongue darts out, wetting your lips, and ghost follows the drag of your tongue hungrily. you are not the screaming, soft, doe-eyed little thing he thought he might like to have.

you are silent, deadly, a wolf in sheep's clothing, and he does not just want to have you. he needs you. he needs you to live under his skin. he needs to taste you, to have you flood his mouth, to chew and eat and swallow and breathe.

he would say you are his match made in heaven, but he knows this does not exist, because if it did, he wouldn't be real. and neither would you.

"ooof," you scrunch your nose. "i hate cry babies."

you almost make him laugh.

he steps closer, sliding the knife lower until it rests at the curve of your waist.

"you don't need that, you know," you whisper, and he leans in, the front of his mask brushing against your lips.

"no?"

"no," you echo, smiling wider. "if you wanna feel up my skirt, all you gotta do is ask. it'd be nice to have your name first though."

"ghost."

you giggle, "your real name, baby."

"'s ghost."

"that what you want me to say when i'm in your bed tonight?"

"who said you'll be in m'bed?"

you reach up with one hand, dragging the tip of your finger down the strong line of his jaw. he towers over you, shadows you, and the knife is sharp against your skin, but all you want is to be a little closer.

you close your eyes when you feel his hand. the tips of his gloved fingers graze the skin of your upper thighs, and you suck in a soft breath when he drags that hand up under your skirt. you put both hands on his chest as you tremble slightly, holding onto him for support as his big hand fondles one side of your ass. his fingers creep lower, and he groans audibly.

"no knickers, swee'eart?" he mutters, and you just giggle breathlessly. "how long 'av y'been waitin' for me, huh?"

you open your eyes, tilting your head back and holding back a whine when you feel his thick fingers prodding at your folds, soaking up the slick there and teasing your cunt. it's sick--you must be sick, you must be awful, you must be so dead inside, you have to be, but it's so hard to care.

you gasp when he grips your throat, forcing your eyes on his, and you hold him there.

"answer me. how long 'av y'been waitin' for me?"

you soften, smile, bare your teeth for him.

"my whole life, baby."

[cametotheshowinsd]

That July ninth, the beat of your heart;

[kristiliqua]

sounds like the start of a bad joke fr

[tirednerd2012]

This is my reminder that when looking for his brother at his father's house, Jonathan looked in the trunk of Lonnies car. What the actual fuck happened in the Byers house that Jonathan believed Lonnie would be capable of hurting/killing Will?

Also a reminder that Jonathan faced Lonnie, his abuser, alone for a small chance at finding Will, fought a demogorgon for him, got into a fight with Steve when he said Will deserved what happened to him, and planned his little brother, his best friend in the entire world and the person he loved most funeral alone because he couldn't stand the idea of letting Will down again and letting Will sit in a freezer. And carried the blame of what happened to Will without ever letting Will know because he didn't want his brother to worry about him.