Do Me A Solid And Just Reblog This Saying What Time It Is Where You Are And What You’re Thinking About

They were , — Yuki was sacred to me .

i’ve been on this app since i was 16.

so everyone understands the concept of having a type as in ‘type of person im attacted to’ but whats your type as in ‘type of person attracted to me’

mines trainwrecks and repressed nerds

Link: https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-zinh-rebuild-her-life-and-achieve-her-dream

I was contacted personally by zinh in gaza to help her cause. She is so close to her initial goal! (39000/50000 as of 6/8)

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Zinh Rebuild Her Life and Achieve Her Dream, organized by Miranda Harris

My dear friend Zinh Dahdooh is asking for support to gather enough fun… Miranda Harris needs your support for Help Zinh Rebuild Her Life and

This is the initial costs are 50000, but with hopes and goals to cover each family member as you all know the extortiinate prices of crossing the border. goals to help evacuate the rest of her family, including her younger sibilings and mother. More details are on zinhs twitter. https://x.com/zinh_1?mx=2

https://x.com/zinh_1?mx=2

Her last GFM was frozen because of the amount of money withdrawn, but the problems are all cleared now. She manages her campaign herself and reaches out to a lot of people. We can pick up the slack and lessen her stress by spreading and engaging- like i said, repost away any version of this QR code or drawing. Please do help, or if you can’t, RB, or repost as you please.

tempted to take a nap

I saw a cute skater boy on the train today-

Hey y’all I got a new favorite Horikoshi sketch :D

With a single word from Netanyahu, the crossing was closed. With a single word, two million people were starved and buried! We are just numbers in the archives of this dark world. How long will this injustice continue? Our lives in Gaza are like those of prisoners. No food, no water, no electricity, no medical treatment. No basic necessities of life.

bf suna in pictures

“make sure ya get the back of my neck.”

“sure.”

“get the sides, too.”

“okay.”

“and make sure ya don’t miss a single spot!”

this time, you don’t have as much patience. you grip a handful of osamu’s wet hair, ignoring the exaggerated exclamations of pain as you do.

“i. said. oh.. kay!!” each word is accompanied with a jerk of his head. osamu’s reaching for your forearms now, smacking them as if he’s tapping out of a boxing match.

he glares at you, pout on. you grin back. you win.

and as if to make it a point, you begin to massage his scalp with a gentle scrape of your fingernails. swirling his hair, making sure you get into the follicles, and forcing a subtle pressure onto the base of his skull, you press a kiss right at the edge of his brow as a gift for finally behaving.

osamu hums at that. he closes his eyes to relax and as the moments pass, he slowly liquifies beneath you. the bend of his back curves into your belly as he breathes deep, unperturbed by the scent of ammonia.

“feels nice.”

“is that right, old man?”

osamu’s back to glaring. a giggled kiss back to his brow does nothing to abate it.

“too soon?”

he answers by pinching your thigh. you smack a gloved hand across his shoulder and he only snickers loudly, leaning all his weight onto you that you almost topple over. just as quickly as it left, silence settles into the bathroom once again.

“too old,” osamu eventually says. his confession is quiet, one that opens a space for thought, a little reprieve to reminisce. the fluorescent bulbs in your bathroom suddenly dull into a warm glow.

he says old as if it were a bad thing. like cracks on a sidewalk or black cats. old as if it were something to avoid.

it’s how this all started anyways. after a long day at onigiri miya, osamu’s feet found their way back home to you. he smells of sweat and sweet vinegar and hard work and yours. routine makes his way to you, slide his hands across your ribs and pecks you twice along the lips. then he goes to the bathroom, turns the shower on, and sheds his clothes beginning with his cap.

osamu was fiddling with his belt buckle with one hand and shuffling his hair with the other when he found it.

a gray hair. gray. and not the artificial kind.

one hour, one impromptu trip to the konbini, and one plucked gray hair burned spitefully at the stove, you're back in the bathroom again.

he wants to dye his hair gray. the artificial kind. the color he had back in high school, to a younger version of the one in front of you. and as much as you liked inarizaki osamu, any version of osamu actually, you especially like this one here.

"i think you're pretty sexy in gray." you mention without looking at him. osamu's trying to find meaning, the true meaning to the words you say. he watches your reflection as you busy yourself by discarding your used gloves.

old means growth. his hair will fade just like the original onigiri miya shirt that stretches across his wide chest but your love for him never will. time loves him just as much as you, kisses lines at the corners of his eyes, strokes rough edges along his palms, and you are gifted with a front seat to it.

"ya think tsumu's got gray hairs?" he finally asks.

"i'll do you one better," you smile wryly and lower yourself to whisper in his ear. "i think his hair is thinning."