I miss the 2000s because there were so many fashion trends and moments when it was encouraged to look like a hot-ass mess. The Instagram age is this weird era of control and perfection and “eyebrows on fleek” blah blah like I miss when everyone walked around with last night’s eyeliner still on while wearing 25 stupid accessories at once dressed like you slept in trash or whatever.

It’s okay if your pronoun preferences change. If you like one set of pronouns sometimes, but another set the rest of the time. Don’t ever let anyone tell you it’s too complicated - you are wonderful and your pronouns are great, and you deserve to be respected. Use whatever pronouns feel right for you at the time.

Just Imagine Kissing Cullen

His lips are soft. So soft. His scar comes from pain, but it’s silken and smooth and keeps you grounded. You know where you are and who he is because he knows where you are and who he is.

His hands cup your jaw and the back of your head. His gloves are soft leather, but you prefer his bare touch. You both want to feel each other’s skin warm and prickle as the shivers roll through your bodies. Rough calluses rasp and tickle the spot behind your ear as his lips meet yours. You lean into his touch on instinct, something ancient and animal in your blood.

His kiss is as firm as his touch, never too gentle or too hard. There is a need in him that bleeds into you in the space between parting lips. That slow and creeping desperation winds around your veins, opening your mouth to breathe him in. He fills your lungs, and you pray the sensation of him stays inside you as you sigh. His warrior’s hands hold you close and air hisses through his nose before he holds his breath, reticent to let any part of you go.

His tongue meets yours in measured movements. He is deliberate in his teasing grazes, though he soon gives in to that innate hunger to consume, to devour you. He slips against you, finally sighing out the breath of you he held for too long. He longs for you. He aches for you. You feel his eyes pinch shut harder. He wills this to be real because he never believed he could hold you like this, kiss you like this.

You cling to him as your back arches under his fervent attentions. You crave more, and he gives you more. His hand moves from one side of your waist to the other. The press of him pools covetousness low inside you and stops the air in your throat. He squeezes, and you squeeze back. 

You’re a breath from dissolving against him when he pulls away. Your lips follow him for the barest moment before you open your eyes. He smiles at you, sweet and brimming with affection. He loves you, and he is beautiful.

This is beautiful.


A liberal fantasy dream sequence, a bromance insanely romantic between Emmanuel Macron and Justin Trudeau.

“The Franco-Canadian friendship has a new face.”
“Sitting down with @EmmanuelMacron, for the first time, talking jobs, security & climate – looking forward to more conversations, my friend.”

  • me last year: oh boy, i’m so excited for phase 4! i can’t wait to hype it up!!
  • gorillaz:
  • me this summer: oh boy, i have so much spare time!! i would love some new content, or even the album!!
  • gorillaz:
  • me now: i’m studying for finals and don’t have time to talk about gorillaz