The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
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Keni

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available
wallacepolsom

Kiana Khansmith
ojovivo
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH

@theartofmadeline
Claire Keane
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
RMH
No title available
occasionally subtle

#extradirty

izzy's playlists!
Sade Olutola
Misplaced Lens Cap
trying on a metaphor
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Azerbaijan

seen from Malaysia

seen from Germany

seen from Malaysia
seen from Brazil
seen from Malaysia
seen from Belgium

seen from Malaysia
seen from Australia

seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
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seen from United States
@kaspbrakatitagain
The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
The last character you wrote about is put in the last video game you played for a week. Can they survive?
Yes
No
See results
what do you mean my disability disables my abilities? what the fuck
there’s something to be said about king linking child abuse in IT 1986 to consumption; alvin and sonia’s incentous abuse of their own children is directly described as being ‘eating’ but it goes into the very concept of pennywise being a child eater, a figure that (among other things) personifies how parents consume their own children. (society doesn’t treat children as anything other than literal property to their parents.) abuse can absolutely feel like cosmic horror to a child; you have no genuine understanding of why this is happening to you. why do your parents hate you, why does your dad look at your body like that, why is your mother forcing pills down your throat, why is your step dad beating your younger brother to death with a hammer, the crux of cosmic horror is that it’s truly unexplainable and even if your try to trace it you’ll never truly understand why your parent did that to you.
what running this blog feels like
So do I look like him?
I can't get over how adorable richie looks this might be the best fan art of all time
(goes to a Chinese restaurant in my hometown) (suddenly remembers I’m gay) oh god the fucking clown...
More pennywise body horror
List of Palestinian Evacuation Fundraisers
Last Update: 05/06/2024
All fundraisers have been looked into by me or vetted by others. If anyone notices issues in validity with any of the fundraisers listed please let me know. Funding updates daily!
Fadi Al-Sharif and family ($10,439/$62,500 goal)
Hayam Taha and family (€8,718/€30,000 goal)
Deyaa and family (€7,764/€20,000 goal)
Fatima Alshanti (kr5,085 SEK/kr150,000 goal)
Shahed Ghazi and family ($6,776 CAD/$94,838 goal)
Little Yusuf and family (€5,960/€85,000 goal)
Sara & Huda Hajjaj and family ($240/$15,000 goal)
Mohammed JH Shamia's family (kr20,168 SEK/kr250,000 goal)
Maram Ahmed and family (€1,032/€30,000 goal)
Hamza Almofty and family ($3,772/$35,000 goal)
Mahmoud Jomaa (€400/€10,000 goal)
Dr. Mohammed Shara ($445/$20,000 goal)
Abdulrahman Alshanti and family (kr137,402 SEK/kr350,000 goal)
Besan Almabhouh's family (€5,767/€25,000 goal)
Said Tanani and brothers (€30,935/€50,000 goal)
Donia Tanani and family (€67,538/€100,000 goal)
Hussein Shamiya, his pregnant wife, and son ($8,042/$40,000 goal)
Mohammed Shamia and family ($15,020/$35,000 goal)
Amro Bakr & kids Bakir and Tala (€1,772/€15,000 goal)
Almadhoun family ($18,365/$80,000 goal)
Child Mohammed (€6,420/€10,000 goal)
Sana'a and family (£19,668/£50,000 goal)
Noha Ayyad and family ($23,050/$95,160 goal)
Nazmi Mwafi and family ($5,151/65,000 goal)
Ibrahim Almofty and family ($535/$40,000)
Hamdi Hejazi and family ($10,236/$25,000)
Mohammed and family ($7,620/$25,000)
Many of the families that have reached out to me, families on this list, are in Rafah or have family members in Rafah. It is imperative and EXTREMELY urgent we fill these fundraisers as swiftly as possible, the IOF is planning to invade any day. Please, I urge you, to donate whatever you can. People’s lives are at stake.
richie tozier core
I need everyone to see this picture from the 4th article.
manic pixie dream divorced guy
Explanation? I watched 13 Going on 30 again and have a brain worm about Reddie AUs atm :)
ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡
The Window Trope™️
kids today are too fucking powerful.,, we merely adopted the internet, they were born in it
He just roasted every YouTuber in one take…
If there’s any place a joke couldn’t grow, it’s here, on Eddie’s hotel bed, Eddie’s words slipping through silk sheets, warm with alcohol—once, I’ve kissed a man once—Richie’s mouth unable to find a punchline. It’s late, and his own room is two floors above, but he can’t seem to move away from here.
“You can tell me,” he says instead, voice soft.
Eddie turns to look at him, half his face pressed into the cushion of his pillow. They’ve been laying like this for two hours now, since they came up from dinner, bodies almost fitting into each other, but never touching—a crown shyness.
“It was on a business trip,” Eddie says slowly. “Ten years ago. We were passing through Nebraska…went out for drinks before checking into a hotel, and there was a man sitting by the bar. Young. My age, maybe.”
He’s quiet, then, for a stretch of time—mouth pursed at the ceiling like he’s trying to get something out. He covers his face in both of his hands as though to filter the shame in his voice, but it bleeds through.
“I was married.” It sounds like a wail, the way it’s ripped from Eddie’s chest, but when he pulls his hands away, his face is collected and dry. Richie feels an electric shock through his body, but keeps still. Memories of his own experiences, experiences with men in bars, creep in. “Men…they always say ‘oh, I was drunk’, ‘oh I wasn’t thinking.’ But. I knew what I was doing.” He sniffs. “When I offered to go up and order our drinks. When I told everyone I’d meet them back at the hotel. I knew exactly what I was doing.”
There is a sorry there, underlining the shame in his voice, but Richie isn’t sure if it’s a sorry—period or a sorry for not being sorry at all.
“Eddie,” he tries, a sense of impending doom seeping through his chest. Eddie closes his eyes.
“I kissed him on the sidewalk outside that bar and he slipped me the name of his motel and I…Richie I wanted to go. I wanted to go so badly. But it felt like… I was just on the edge of something. Just on the edge. And that if I did, the earth might open up and swallow me whole. And I wouldn’t come back.”
His eyes stay closed, and Richie wonders if he’s imagining it. The kiss. The kiss outside of some hole-in-the-wall bar in Lexington.
In his hands, Richie can feel it. The fold of a man’s dress shirt where it had been tucked into his slacks. The way his back curved into the press of his fingertips when he’d leant into him; soft, then hard, then relentless. He was twenty-five, looks no less strange than they’d always been, but at a peak where they could, at an angle, be mistaken for handsome. He’d just finished a gig earlier that evening; one on a list of self-booked tour dates that would send him from one side of the country to the other, alone in his mom’s beat up, old van, but not before being halted abruptly right here, in Lexington, Nebraska, by a man in a bar. Would catch sight of those freckles and spend the rest of the night making one drink last two hours, ridiculously hoping that when the rest of his friends left, he would hang behind. Must have hoped well enough, too, because he had.
Eddie lets out a huff of air. “You know I forgot his name by the time I was in the cab, but can still remember the room number? Like…like part of me is still hoping to go. Still trying to.”
Richie swallows. “208,” he said.
Eddie whips his head back to Richie. “What?”
“208,” Richie repeats. “208, it was room 208 and I stayed…an extra day I stayed before hitting the road in case…just. In case.”
His heart hammers humiliated in his chest as he watches Eddie’s mouth turn down, his eyes widen.
“Richie?” he says softly, name wavering on a lilt.
Richie just shakes his head, uncomprehending, and looks up at the ceiling. After a moment he feels Eddie’s hand on his shoulder, moving down to his chest, over his heart. It’s shaking, and Richie holds it in his own to steady them both.
They wait for the horror to pass to see what it leaves them with.
The beginning of a beautiful friendship
love when people call bill/mike bike because the bike
the bike