so, when I first got news last night that Turkey and Syria had been hit by an earthquake, I posted that we didn't know how bad it was yet but that I'd post some charities to donate to once there was more news out. well, it's bad. it's really fucking bad. it's 2,000 dead and counting bad.
AKUT: !!! Turkish-based search and rescue NGO
Doctors without borders, as always they're some of the best NGOs out there
Syrian American Medical Society for Syria-specific help
Union of Medical Relief and Care Organizations (UOSSM)
Save the Children
Turkish Red Crescent
The White Helmets: Syria grassroots charity
globalgiving
One of the best things you can do right now is donate blood. Turkey was already running critically low on their reserves and Syria has been getting fucked by Russia (surprise!) since 2015. if you're able to donate, please donate blood!
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i wanna talk about gojo when he falls in love. when he finally gives in to his emotions, and allows himself to be in love. at first, he of course assumes he’s in some sort of ‘honeymoon phase’- that his clinginess is totally explainable and everything is totally normal. but his clinginess quickly turns into an ache when you’re away, an implicit need to be with you at every moment. he worries sick about you, and it takes severe restraint to stop himself from hovering over you every moment you’re awake, so he can protect you. i just think gojo is a little too obsessed with you too quickly
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post miya atsumu mcdonalds employee
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when Ayato Kamisato gets dressed in the morning he always places and handkerchief in his breast pocket. after you become his wife, he has you press a kiss to the kerchief, preferably with some vibrant lipstick so it leaves a mark - and while he’s gone from you he occasionally takes it out to kiss where your lips were so he can imagine he’s kissing you ❣️
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GENSHIN IMPACT - FAVORITE TEAM COMPS [1 / ∞]
double hydro double geo
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staring at his tits while he mansplains
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I think aran would love finishing his volleyball career to be a stay at home husband.
oh absolutely
aran who wears an apron, tying it a bit clumsily around his back. he adopted the habit from osamu, twisting the strings and fashioning them into a knot similar to the restaurant owner. aran who is still so big even after finishing his volleyball career, muscles tensing as he awkwardly twists to tie the apron strings behind him.
aran who catches you leaning against the counter, blatantly staring at the way his forearms flex–not dissimilar to how they flex when he's hovering over you late at night, finger fucking you on his thick fingers.
he would offer you a knowing look–a lopsided grin dripping with a sort of awkward, affectionate charm. a kind of charm that never fails to make your pulse skip a beat, thrumming harshly in your ears as you push off the counter to join him by the oven.
"this is too small," you murmur, appreciating the quiet hum that resides in your small, homey apartment. there's no need to be loud here.
aran only quirks a brow, playfully nudging your shoulder when you sidle up next to him. "is it? I didn't notice."
which, in all fairness, is entirely false. the apron is tight around his waist, even though he fastened it sloppily around himself. the years after volleyball have been kind to him, you muse, admiring how the extra weight settles nicely around his stomach, his shoulders, making him appear even broader than when he was a full-time athlete.
unbidden, thoughts of what those shoulders look like when he's fucking into you with powerful yet wholly gentle thrusts, your legs hanging over them, invade your thoughts.
pushing them aside, you trail a finger down the line of muscle on his bicep, swallowing thickly as aran prepares whatever dinner it is you'll be having later on.
you're too distracted to care about what it is.
"did you also not notice that you forgot a shirt?" you ask, eyes dipping down to trace along his bare shoulders, his collarbones.
this time, aran's grin breaks out a bit wider, a gleam in his eye when he turns to you and says, "no, I knew about that."
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dating kuroo absolutely means walking into a room and catching him in front of a mirror while cradling your cat in his arms going "it's you! yeah, that's you!" in the most hideously affectionate voice you've ever heard in your life on a regular basis
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