zuuckonit

fromme-toyou:

GPOYW
Circle skirts, espadrilles, and Central Park… — fromme-toyou:

GPOYW

***Circle skirts, espadrilles, and Central Park***…

[Flash 10 is required to watch video]

my-gaydar-is-always-on:

deepblueseasofpapermache:

queen-of-squee:

klainemovesme:

sweetsweetblainers:

atadistance:

Rules of Tumblr:

If this comes on your dash, you have to reblog.

Here we go again

I kinda wanna be more than friends

So take it easy on me

I’m afraid you’re never satisfied

Here we go again

we’re sick like animals, we play pretend

You’re just a cannibal

(Source: coolestgirl-, via peetaklainer)

(Source: c-r-a-z-y-h-1-p-s-t-e-r, via justinbieberthinks)

old-sock-drawer:

Seeing Eduardo standing on the corner in the rain brought back memories, ones that Mark had tried to suppress, ones that he kept in the “before” file in his mind: before the angel investment, before Sean Parker started whispering in his ear, before he screwed his best friend out of millions of dollars, the pieces of his Macbook painfully representing the broken fragments of their friendship as Eduardo stormed out of the offices of Facebook for the last time. Though he supposed that night when it rained and he overslept was the night that started the whole thing. For Mark, there is only “after” now: multiple lawsuits, being forced to defend himself to people he’s better than, smarter than.
And then it started raining and he knew Eduardo would be outside and he couldn’t help himself: as soon as they called lunch, Mark was out of the building before he even knew where his feet were taking him. They were only a few feet apart and whether Eduardo knew he was there or not he couldn’t tell, but he called out anyway: “Wardo.”
Eduardo turned, and the memory hit Mark like a ton of bricks. “I’m afraid if you don’t come out here, you’re gonna get left behind.” So why was it that Mark, the one with the multi-billion dollar company, felt like the one left behind? Mark nearly flinched as Eduardo’s face became cold as the rain that fell around them, drenching them both. “What do you want?” he asked. There wasn’t a trace of the friend Mark once knew in his voice.
What did he want? He’d just kind of come out here with no plan. Mark was suddenly an awkward nineteen-year-old again as he shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Thank you,” he said. “For…defending me in there.” Eduardo shrugged, turning away from him again.
“It was your idea,” he said simply, as if that settled it. “It wasn’t anything personal.”
Mark made a sort of agreeing noise. He wanted to say more. He wanted to talk to Eduardo, keep him there a bit longer, but before he could, Eduardo was hailing a cab. A blur of yellow in the gray blur of cars and street and rain stopped in front of them, and the words were bubbling up in his throat and bursting from his mouth before he could stop them: “Remember the algorithm?” Eduardo turned sharply to face him and his voice faltered a little as he continued, “On the window at Kirkland?”
It was in that moment that mark thought he was truly seeing Eduardo for the first time in years. He was seeing his friend, the one who was his constant defender ever since orientation at Harvard, the only person he could ever really, truly say he loved. Eduardo’s features softened for a moment and Mark knew that he, too, was back there, in the dorm, writing down the letters and numbers that would change everything.  But as soon as Mark saw it, it was gone.
Eduardo regained that cold stare, that distant look in his eyes, and opened the door to the cab. “No,” he said, before getting in and driving off, leaving Mark alone in the rain. — old-sock-drawer:

Seeing Eduardo standing on the corner in the rain brought back memories, ones that Mark had tried to suppress, ones that he kept in the “before” file in his mind: before the angel investment, before Sean Parker started whispering in his ear, before he screwed his best friend out of millions of dollars, the pieces of his Macbook painfully representing the broken fragments of their friendship as Eduardo stormed out of the offices of Facebook for the last time. Though he supposed that night when it rained and he overslept was the night that started the whole thing. For Mark, there is only “after” now: multiple lawsuits, being forced to defend himself to people he’s better than, smarter than.

And then it started raining and he knew Eduardo would be outside and he couldn’t help himself: as soon as they called lunch, Mark was out of the building before he even knew where his feet were taking him. They were only a few feet apart and whether Eduardo knew he was there or not he couldn’t tell, but he called out anyway: “Wardo.”

*Eduardo turned, and the memory hit Mark like a ton of bricks. “*I’m afraid if you don’t come out here, you’re gonna get left behind.” *So why was it that Mark, the one with the multi-billion dollar company, felt like the one left behind?* Mark nearly flinched as Eduardo’s face became cold as the rain that fell around them, drenching them both. “What do you want?” he asked. There wasn’t a trace of the friend Mark once knew in his voice.

*What* did he want? He’d just kind of come out here with no plan. Mark was suddenly an awkward nineteen-year-old again as he shoved his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Thank you,” he said. “For…defending me in there.” *Eduardo shrugged, turning away from him again.*

*“It was your idea,” he said simply, as if that settled it. “It wasn’t anything personal.”*

Mark made a sort of agreeing noise. He wanted to say more. He wanted to talk to Eduardo, keep him there a bit longer, but before he could, Eduardo was hailing a cab. A blur of yellow in the gray blur of cars and street and rain stopped in front of them, and the words were bubbling up in his throat and bursting from his mouth before he could stop them: “Remember the algorithm?” Eduardo turned sharply to face him and his voice faltered a little as he continued, “On the window at Kirkland?”

It was in that moment that mark thought he was truly seeing Eduardo for the first time in years. He was seeing his friend, the one who was his constant defender ever since orientation at Harvard, the only person he could ever really, truly say he loved. Eduardo’s features softened for a moment and Mark knew that he, too, was back there, in the dorm, writing down the letters and numbers that would change everything.  *But as soon as Mark saw it, it was gone.*

*Eduardo regained that cold stare, that distant look in his eyes, and opened the door to the cab. “No,” he said, before getting in and driving off, leaving Mark alone in the rain.*

(via wardos-)

(Source: milakunis, via peetaklainer)

4everklaine:

I always love this picture <3 — 4everklaine:

~~I always love this picture <3~~

(Source: peetaklainer)

(Source: rosieeecrosbyyy, via stilettosandstuds)