What does a Tumblr "Like" mean to you?
I'm just very personally curious. I'd love some sweet reblog action to get a good sample size, Eddie! P-p-p-p-please!
Thanks for your insight, pals!
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BOOKS ON MY TBR SHELVES BY BLACK AUTHORS:
Noughts & Crosses by Malorie Blackman
American Dreamer by Adriana Herrera
Black Girl Unlimited by Echo Brown
The Roommate Risk by Talia Hibbert
Honey Girl by Morgan Rogers
Rosewater by Tade Thompson
Cool. Awkward. Black. by Various
Ace of Spades by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé
No Gods. No Monsters. by Cadwell Turnbull
Tristan Strong Punches A Hole in the Sky by Kwame Mbalia
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Have you read any of these books? Are any on your TBR?
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Happy reading!
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Roger, whispering: So Novak, do you know what you’re going to get Andy for Christmas yet?
Novak, whispering back: I don't know. It's kind of hard buying a gift for your partner when he already got everything he could've ever wanted when he married you. So I'm not sure yet.
Rafa, with no hesitation: I'm getting Andy a divorce lawyer.
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Attack of the Crab Monsters (1957) & Not of This Earth (1957) Double Feature
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@cmnis || i cannot find it so here, have a tag! || accepting!
[ KISS ]: unable to find the right words to express how much they love the receiver, the sender impulsively catches them and pulls them in for a passionate, deep kiss. ( sending Steve to Bucky with this one too thnx )
the camp was as quiet as a military camp was gonna get. no matter the hour, there were people milling about. guards. insomniacs. people with too many nightmares on their sleeves already. machinery. vehicles. you name it? there was never any real silence. only variant levels of less noise. might be why bucky decided to part ways with his tent and go off on his own. they'd only been back for two nights. saved by steven grant rogers. his best friend that he thought he'd left in brooklyn. the sickly, scrawny guy. who'd throw fists to the world if he had to. the one he sat by the bedside of since he was a kid. willing heaven and daring god to do anything less than make sure he was okay, alive, and well again. the guy who he'd taken so many punches to the face and dished out twice as more for because he'd pick fights with six or seven guys twice his size for the hell of standing up for himself, his morals or anyone else that needed it.
that guy. only it wasn't. but it is. but it wasn't.
cigarette smoke trailed up from the stump he was perched on. fingers trembled as they dangled in the air between his knees from the opposite hand. he wasn't okay. he was so damn far from okay. there's something wrong with him. something inside of him. something that's crawling it's way through his veins and it's making his muscles ache and burn and his vision blur then get sharper than it's ever been. his mind's swimming. he remembers everything but claims he can't barely remember a minute of his time in captivity. it's burned there. except for a few days and nights. the ones where things go fuzzy and all he can hear is voices then nothing.
tears come next. ones that fall and glisten in moonlight he shouldn't be able to catch the reflection of as they fall. he, hastily, bats them away when he hears footsteps. solid and sure and steady. he knows that pace even if they're further apart. steve. the cigarette's stepped out before the other makes it to him. the wet on his face's wiped off on a military issued cotton undershirt. his tags jingle.
they talk. quiet. whispers of how he's doing. lies that steve sees through. he knows he does. blue meets blue and bucky's brows shove together. it's harder to lie when they're face to face. silence. "i'm sorry, steve--for bullshittin' ya.. i know you know. it's just.. i can't. i don't wanna take you back there. not where i was. not where i am in my head." and he says it. out loud. what he doesn't expect is what happens next. steve's eyes are solid as they gaze at him. steady and sure and they ground him like nothing else ever has been able to before. but that hand pushing through his hair. gripping the back of his head tight? that.. that makes him swallow. HARD. it's then that their lips meet. and all that pain. all that fear? it just stops. the world blinks out. goes muted. all there is is steve. his mouth. his taste. his tongue and air that bucky's breathing in as it's exhaled. fingers melt in his lap before lifting to curl around steve's wrists and hang on as he races to catch up pouring all he can back into the kiss. fuck the world. fuck everything. every pain. every ache. every fucking terrifying thing happening to him. this? this is all that matters.
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