You ever read fanfic so god tier you have to wait for real life to load back in so you spend half the day doing tasks with that dead look in your eye, replaying all your favorite moments?

I’m a cis man sure but i also wanna opt out of the gender binary. None of that shit is my fault or my responsibility and i don’t want any part of it

Believing the gender binary is stupid horseshit doesn’t require me to change my gender actually

Yeaheyah you get it. Not trans but i believe in their beliefs. Sometimes i remember people form gender complexes around what alcoholic beverages or colors they like and i just wonder how they’re not fucking exhausted from keeping up this stupid fucking horseshit. Just do whatever you want forever

@nimagine i know u reblogged this from me but ur so correct 🙏 get peer reviewed

bungus

welcome to ‘no note bungus’. reblog and you will feel a sense of accomplishment and goodwill wash over you

that one post about immortals having to keep track of their belongings but with good omens. crowley loses his journal some time in the 1900s. it’s full of him waxing poetic about aziraphale but he just figures it ended up in a ditch somewhere, nothing to worry about.

until aziraphale invites him to a new exhibition and they’re both staring down multiple transcripts of pages in what is unmistakably his handwriting talking about ‘my angel’ and ‘that beautiful, infuriating bastard’ and ‘i’ve loved him since eden and i fear i’ll love him until armageddon’

“Not use collective punishment as it is not fair on the many people who did nothing and under the 1949 Geneva Conventions it is a war crime.”

Wait it’s a fucking WAR CRIME?!?! I mean that might not be 100% accurate but now I gotta know

holy crap, collective punishment is a war crime.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fourth_Geneva_Convention#Collective_punishments

and according to the exact legal phrasing-

No protected person may be punished for an offense he or she has not personally committed. Collective penalties and likewise all measures of intimidation or of terrorism are prohibited.

This technically counts, as students are civilians, and thus considered a “protected person”. So yes, collective classroom punishment breaks the fourth Geneva Convention, and she should be rewarded for standing up for human rights and doing her research.

Power-move: accuse your teacher of a war crime using knowledge they supplied you with

Robin’s always had a soft spot for Eddie Munson, but up until recently it had been in a distant kind of way; she appreciated his class clown act, the way it had a domino effect of keeping the heat off the band kids, how he hogged the spotlight for any passing douchebag’s attention.

But then they both literally dive into The Upside Down, and her appreciation reaches a whole new level.

They’re in the Wheeler’s garage, thanking their lucky stars that four bikes exist in 1983 (and yeah, Robin’s sure that if she thinks about the whole time thing for half a second more her brain will promptly melt, so she doesn’t).

Each of them are pushing their chosen bike down the driveway, in a dazed sort of silence—the high of the Lite-Brite worn off in the face of another grim journey through The Upside Down.

Steve is flagging, Robin can hear it: his breathing’s growing laboured as he walks, an occasional unsteadiness to him that’s setting her anxiety off all over again, because what if they were wrong, what if it’s really rabies, and it’s too late, it’s coursing through his veins, and he’s—they’re gonna lose him—

“Hey, Harrington,” Eddie says, swinging a leg over his saddle, “wanna race?”

“… Hmm? Sorry, what?” Steve says.

There’s not even that long of a delay in him speaking, but the pause still has Robin’s heart in her throat.

Eddie’s got one foot on a pedal now, ready to set off. He looks back at them with a shaky grin—like he’s terrified, but he’s still gonna have some fun anyway.

“I’m throwing down the gauntlet, King Steve. Bet I’ll be faster than you.”

Steve scoffs, stands up a little straighter before he mirrors Eddie, balancing on the bike with one foot on the pedal.

“How much are we betting?”

Eddie huffs. “Oh, no money involved,” he says nonchalantly. He raises an eyebrow in challenge. “This is just for the glory.”

And God, there’s that spark back in Steve’s eyes; it’s like Robin can physically see his competitive streak giving him strength.

Eddie Munson, you beautiful soul, she thinks, I could kiss you.

The person I reblogged this from deserves to be happy

I tried to scroll past this. I really did

ok i just wanna check something.... reblog if you've never watched/opened tumblr live

reblog if you’d open a cursed tomb before even considering opening tumblr live

why is bob short for robert

how does one get ‘billy’ out of ‘william’?

How in hell do you get “Dick” from “Richard”?

you ask him nicely

you ask him nicely

i have been waiting for yEARS FOR THIS POST TO COME BACK YOU DONT UNDERSTAND

There’s a kid in my class named Richard Hunter

Dick Hunter

@hellsite-hall-of-fame

Deer running from a flying squirrel as caught on a trail camera

everything about this picture is goddamn intense as fuck 

I AM THE NIGHT

we are deleting abandonment issues. reblog to delete abandonment issues

thinking about when they needed a car, Eddie immediately thought about that RV... like, instantly... had he already daydreamed about stealing it? we know he doesn't want to be like his dad, but like, this is his face when they jack that thing:

Just on my Steve is smooth operator when he sets his mind on someone agenda. Because remember even Robin thinks he’s striking out because he doesn’t know what he wants. Cue him deciding he wants Eddie and cranking that charm up to eleven.

Steve took a deep breath. He was good at this. Just because he had struck out with girls lately didn’t mean he didn’t know how to come on to someone.

He waited until he had a handful of witnesses that wouldn’t hate crime him for this.

Eddie came into Family Video with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike to rent a movie. Will and the rest of Byers family were in the process of moving back to Indiana, so it was just the three boys today.

Steve had sent Robin to make sure there weren’t any other customers before he made his move. He walked up to the metalhead and stepped into his space until their bodies were almost touching.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Keep reading

When everything settles down, Robin takes a few psychology classes in college, just out of interest. She learns some very useful tricks and has very few moral restraints about using them.

Steve and Eddie are very happy together, but Steve's cleanliness-loving personality sometimes suffers from Eddie being a chaotic gremlin. He sheds clothes like snakes shed their skin. It's not that he doesn't want to wash dishes - he just forgets they exist. A washing machine? Oh yeah, we have that somewhere.

Enter Robin visiting for her summer break and a huge bag of sour candies.

"Hey Eddie, I almost tripped on your vest, can you pick it up?"

Eddie mumbles an apology and drops the vest into the hamper.

She smiles at him, shaking the bag. "Thanks! Would you like a candy?"

Of course Eddie wants a candy. They're his favorite and Robin knows it.

"Hey Eddie, I'd like to make lunch, can you please wash some of those mugs? Thank you! Have a candy!"

"I slipped on that stupid overgrown grass, could you maybe mow the path to the house a little? Thank you so much, you're a lifesaver! A candy for you!"

"You organized all that by yourself? Steve's going to be so happy! Here, catch!"

Steve has long days at work so he doesn't notice much. At least, until he walks in on Eddie turning the washing mashine on, something he almost never does, and turning around, mouth open.

Before Steve can ask what's going on, he catches a tossed sour candy between his teeth.

And instead of an explanation, Robin just grins at him, hands him the remaining candies and mutters "you're welcome, dingus."

Words to live by

Eddie’s on the couch shirtless, and Steve is having a full-on crisis.

Eddie’s bare chest is on full display on Robin and Steve’s couch, and Steve is having a full-blown, how did this not click til now, crisis.

Steve knows he’s staring. Knows he needs to stop staring. Eddie is going on a rant to them, something about society or something metal (he got distracted when Eddie whipped his shirt off), and Steve should really pay attention because he knows Eddie is going to quiz him after.

For someone who hates school so much, Eddie sure likes to test Steve.

Robin comes up behind Steve, slurping her slushy. “Oh no. I know that face. It finally caught up to you, didn’t it?”

Steve breaks his state to give Robin a wide-eyed look. “What—how—I—“ Steve’s shoulders sag; there is no point in hiding from Robin. “How’d you know?”

“Please, babe, I’ve been waiting. Glad to know you actually sped-run this. Was thinking you were going to pull a me and wait til Jenny Rodriguez asks to practice the stage kiss with you before you realized.”

“I have so many questions.”

“Don’t bother; nothing happened except me falling off the stage at rehearsal.”

Steve laughs but then chokes when he glances back at Eddie. “I think my brain just exploded, Robs. What do I do?”

Robin pats his back sympathetically, “There, there. Nothing you can do, bud. Just got to ride the gay thoughts wave.”

Steve makes a distressed noise. Robin rubs circles on his back.

Eddie interrupts their moment (clueless to the evident lesbian bisexual solidarity happening), “So what do you guys think? Should I get the sword here?” Eddie drags his hand slowly down his sternum.

“I need you to take it back.” Steve whips his head torwards Robin.

“Take it back?”

“The crisis, take it back.” Steve all but begs Robin.

“Sorry, there is a no refund policy. You can use it or push it to the side; it’s up to you. But either way, that baby is yours.” Robin uses her straw to emphasize her point.

Eddie tilts his head confused, “Uuuh guys? The tattoo?”

Steve waits a moment before responding. “Good.”

“I’m going to need more than that Stevie.”

“Good. Will look good on you. Anything looks good on you.” Steve has to resist shoving his face into his hands. He can feel the rush of heat up to his cheeks.

Eddie’s face breaks into a brilliant, and a little smug, smile. “Awe, thanks, sweetheart. Glad to know I got the Harrington approval.”

“You don’t need my approval to look good.” Steve was going to throw himself off the roof of their apartment. That didn’t even make any sense.

Eddie snorts, “Okay big boy. Whatever you say.”

It comes off flirtier than Steve thought a sarcastic comment could be. This time instead of responding, Steve just caves into the embarrassment, turns around, and starts lightly thumping his head into the wall.

“Eddie, c’mon, you broke him! Now I’m going to have to reboot him…again.”

Steve doesn’t see his face but doesn’t have to look to know that Eddie’s face is downright giddy. “Sorry.”

Steve doesn’t think he’s very sorry at all.

Having Thoughts about garbage man eddie: bc he looks mean and scary a lot of people assume he has to do community service so he gets a lot of dirty looks, but Eddie genuinely loves the work. He gets to be outside and active all day, standing on the back of the truck is a great vibe, driving the truck is also pretty fun, and there’s something insanely satisfying about cleaning up big amounts of trash.

Every other week, he’ll see this one guy run outside in a panic with a bunch of trashbags in hand when the truck pulls up to his house; apparently the dude’s housemate keeps forgetting to take out the trash whenever it’s her turn. He never looks at Eddie with disdain but thanks him for waiting with a sheepish smile on his face and politely apologizes for delaying him.

Sometimes, when Eddie is making his rounds through that particular neighborhood, he’ll see the guy on his morning run, all sweaty and wearing ridiculously short shorts. And one time when that happens, he gets so distracted that he loses his grip and tumbles off the truck and faceplants right on the street. When he lifts his head to look right into the worried face of the cause of this situation, the sun illuminating his golden locks in a way that can’t possibly be real, he thinks he must have died and gone straight to heaven. He tries to ignore his colleagues cackling loudly behind him, and instead focuses on the hand that’s brushing his hair out of his face to check if he’s alright, brushing warm and soft against his skin.