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#im in class and im bored
cactuupng · 4 months
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reduces your blorbo to it's original form
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kokon0is · 1 year
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nagi is not really aware of his big dick, not like he cares, a penis is a penis he said, but my god, this dude is hung.
like i said he is not really aware, but not until you’re on top of him, and struggling to fit him inside you, “‘s too big sei—-aahh” you probably said this for a hundred times now, “you can take it, a little more, angel”
“so tight around me—hah” he threw his head back to the pillow while he kept his hands on your hips to guide you down “i guess im just too big for this pussy, angel” he is keeping himself from thrusting up to you as you’re clearly still struggling to ride him, he shuts his eyes when he felt you clenched around his dick “aahh…” het let out a breathy moan.
he can’t take this, he is trying his best to stop himself to just pick you and and fuck you while standing and thrust in you in a animalistic pace.
he snapped our of his thoughts when he felt your wet cunt rest on his lower stomach “i did it sei, i bottomed out” you flop on his chest and stayed like that, “hmm you did well, let me do the work, yeah?” nagi gave your head a pat.
“hold on to my shoulders angel, g’nna fuck you hard now”
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ink-the-artist · 2 years
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mammatus and cumulonimbus they are best friends
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epoxxalypz · 3 months
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Im just ken
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anywhere else id b a 10
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emmtm · 6 months
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Canon GO things that are important & should be talked abt more
- crowley miracles his clothes on so he never actually wears clothes
- aziraphale just causally has a gun in his bookshop what the hell is up w that
- Crowleys favorite TV show is the golden girls
- Literally everyone who meets azi immediately assumes that he is gay and british.
- Anathema just legit assumed that crowley and aziraphale were a couple.
- Aziraphale is a doctor who fan??? This guy is a nerd lmfao
- Crowleys favorite animal is kids. What does that even mean Mr. Gaiman
- Azi calls crowley “my dear” and this is very important to me
- Shadwell thought that azi was a russian spy ???
- Crowley slept for an ENTIRE CENTURY.
- Azis tax reports are so incredibly accurate that the authorities got suspicious.
- the apology dance exists and idfk what to do with that information
- When crowley told az that he changed his name, az asked if he changed it to asmodeus. The demon of lust. Dude.
- Crowley doesnt blink a lot, and he has a tendency to hiss. And can do weird things with his tounge.
- The. The discreet gentlemans club that aziraphale joined was an actual club. And it was a gay club. He learned to gavotte at a gay club.
- early versions of the gavotte involved kissing- bro???
- AZ STARTS HIS JOURNAL ENTRIES WITH “DEAR DIARY” BRO I LOVE HIM HES SO DUMB
- THYE LIKE HOLDING HANDSSS
- Crowleh invented game shows
- CROWLEY IS A HOZIER FAN???
- Az likes abba and death cab for cutie (ofc he does)
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jorrated · 2 months
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its so embarrassing to draw sonic stuff in public
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unicyclingdogs · 5 months
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sky!!! 💙💙💙 I tried out a new coloring style here and tried to put less emphasis on line art, and I really liked how it turned out!!! :)
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eatmy-customjorts · 3 months
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he gets no drinks because he has pink hair and pronouns
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silverclaw202 · 1 month
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Etho in combat boots Etho in combat boots Etho in combat boots Etho in combat boots Etho in combat boots Etho in combat boots Etho in combat boots Etho in combat boots
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skeelly · 5 months
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MUTUAL APPRECIATION POST
my first moots :)
@swiftieannah @igave-so-manysigns @alltoounwell1989 @ava-taylors-version @theywillholdontoyou @evermore-4-life @fushiguroshotwife @literally-maria @swifitelover22 even though we barely interact with one another, i love you <33
just my beloved moots
@silly-goose-beans @urgirlielexa @almaaas-stuff @bookscorpion73 @yourinterruptingmyreading @reyna-obsessed @stars-over-ice-cream @lovestrucklovelorn @sluttycaseyjones @swans-chirping-in-the-distance @isitoversnowtvs @berryzxx @suburbanlegnd @funfeons @vibestillaxxx @shefollowedthestars sorry to the rest, im too lazy and need to mention so much more people, but i love you all and im willing to pay for your therapy. literally don't know how you guys keep up with me.
NOW FOR MY VERYY VERY VERY SPECIAL MOOTY WOOTIES (yuckk)
@mqstermindswift you already know i love you to death <3
@coco6420 HI COCO, I LOVE YOU. YOURE THE BEST
@glitterfuturisticmortally sending lots of love. you're awesome! ilysm
@nqds you already know i love youuu lmfao. i love your blog sm and you're low-key my intimidating mutual i look up to so you best believe i flip (figuratively and literally) when you interact with me
@stvrlighhttt should have put you higher but this is in no particular order. ANYWAYS, ILY AND THANKS FOR HELPING WITH LITERALLY EVERYTHING.
@starchasers-stuff hii, ilysm! you're like my older sister on here ngl. goodluck with uni, i wish you absolutely nothing but the best! (ps: how's italian going?)
@urgirlnextdoorr HI, YOURE SO COOL! ily to bitss (pls tell me you remember lol)! <33
@blocked-zombieartist hellloo :))). ilyy, thanks for being my mutual. you're awesomeeeee
@reminiscentreader ilyyyyyy and your blogggg and your nameeee and your personalityyyy and everything about youuuu
@not-nomi although it's kinda weird to say this, cause you're a male, ILY! you're the first guy who's my friend on this app lol
@letmeseeallthefrogsinthecity HIII, IM SO PROUD OF YOU!!! CONGRATS AGAIN AND ILYSM
@urbanflorals you're so amazing, i wish i was more like you. ilyy
@cc-horan HII AHHAAH. you're so cool and thanks for being my mutual and friend :)
@niallermybabe you're funny and wholesome af, i love you
@mickeywheeler HIII FINN! ILY AND ALWAYS REMEMBER IM HERE TO SUPPORT YOU. hopefully your problems are all solved now :)
@remingtonreputation13 HI! CANT FORGET YOU, YOURE SO COOL AND PERFECT! ILY <33
@what-about-wendy hiiiiii, you're also low-key like my sister. ilysm and just remember that im always here for you :))
@svnflowermoon you have the coolest blog in the world. ily
@lucinda-008 holaaaaaaa te amo. no sé si te das cuenta, pero HE ESTADO APRENDIENDO ESPAÑOL y no sé si la gramática es correcta. sorry that's cringe, just wanted to show you :))
@dandelions-fly-in-summer-skies hi, ily! you're so awesome
@dumbass-lesbian hii. although we don't really talk anymore, i love you sm
@astraeasparrow ily. i find you so cool
@silly-mirrorball HIHI, YOURE JUST SPECIAL, OK? LIKE I CANT EXPLAIN IT. YOURE JUST PERFECTION. ILY
@atwtmvftvtvsgavralpss you spam me like, every day and i love you for that!
@holdmyteaplease we don't talk anymore, like at all, but i still love you and unfortunately, i can't find my wip i was meant to send you 😔😔
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finalgoob · 2 years
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phoenix my friend phoenix... hits him w the yassification beam 💫💫 (miles ver)
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mark-the-snark · 7 months
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I pronounce u fazhusbands 🎉🎉🎉🎉
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sbeana · 9 months
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cold girl with warm heart and warm girl with cold heart. you see what i mean
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callibee · 1 month
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wld yall mind if i just start posting my lesser effort doodles/drawings instead of the finishedn rendered art that im known for here cuzzzz i dont have time 4 that anymore FKFJDKHF AND SURELLYYY i cant just let this blog collect dust right :3
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coffinsister · 3 months
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Modern TCOAAL AU where Julia is a tiktok girlie, and her most popular videos are her storytime videos, where she's like doing her emo girl make up.
But the story is always about this weird guy she dated once, who she used to be childhood friends with, and his lowkey psychotic little sister, who had like a very "Oddly" close relationship with each other.
One time she gives away too many details and her followers figure out where she's from
She ends up in one of those true crime mistery podcasts talking about her dead best friend, and about that apartment fire.
Julia doesn't even like it, but she's in it for the bag because she's still in college during all of this, somehow.
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ghosttotheparty · 1 year
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also on ao3
(cw: tics, bullying)
Eddie started shivering in seventh grade.
Even when it was hot, even when he was sweating and desperately wanted a non-rattly fan or a better air conditioner. They weren't normal shivers. He wasn't cold. But his shoulders would jerk or shake, or he would tremble for a second, and he didn't know what else it could have been. Others didn't question it for a while, because it started in October. Everyone was shivering. But by March, it hadn't stopped, and he had to explain himself when people gave him questioning looks or asked if he was okay. (Back when people cared.)
'S just a shiver, I'm fine.
He wasn't fine. It got worse over time. He got used to it, to the weird feeling that took over his body for a few seconds, got used to telling people he was cold, joking that he must be low on vitamins or iron, joking that in the future, someone is walking over his grave. But other people didn't get used to it. They thought he was weird. That was fine with him. Wayne realised something was wrong before Eddie started the tenth grade, because he wasn't just shivering anymore. His whole body was jerking sharply, suddenly, his shoulders drawing up, fists clenching. Eddie didn't question it. Wayne did.
It wasn't normal. But nothing about Eddie was normal. Wayne took him to see a doctor. The doctor make him do things, walk in a line, hold his arms out and push the doctor's hands away as hard as he could, follow a flashlight with his eyes without moving his head. It was all weird. It kind of scared Eddie. The doctor kept writing things in a notebook, and Eddie couldn't tell if he was doing well or not. But Wayne was there, watching and listening intently.
The doctor said he had tics. It sounded funny to Eddie, but then it wasn't funny, because the doctor didn't give him anything for it. He just said there wasn't anything really wrong with him. His brain just worked a little differently. (Which Eddie was already used to hearing.) That his tics could get better or go away as he got older, or they could get worse.
They got worse.
By the end of that summer, his arms were moving, flying over his head suddenly, randomly, and his head was jerking back so sharply it hurt. Wayne was worried about him getting whiplash. Eddie was worried about going to school.
That year, he became the freak.
At first, he tried to explain it to people. The movements were involuntary, he couldn't control them. Wayne contacted all his teachers, who mostly got it, but still preferred to make him sit in the hallway so he didn't distract the class. But the other students thought he was possessed, faking it for attention, and everything in between. They'd throw things at him, and complain to the teachers that he was distracting even when he wasn't moving, just to get him out of the room. They would mimic him, make fun of him, and by September, he learned that the tics get worse when he's upset. He could hear them all snickering and giggling as he shoved his hands under his legs and tucked his chin to his chest or held his shirt over his face, as he held his limbs tense so they wouldn't move, so tense he was exhausted and sore all the time, and then he'd go home and cry because he couldn't control his own body.
He'd have to sit on the sofa so when his head threw itself back, it would hit the back of the sofa instead of the wall, and Wayne would just wait, watching with that fucking sadness in his eyes that made Eddie ache even more. When it finally stopped, sometimes after a few minutes, sometimes after an hour or two, he was so exhausted he'd fall asleep right there on the sofa. He couldn't do his homework. His grades dropped even more, but he managed to keep himself afloat. He did the best he could, doing his homework early in the morning before school or in detention. (Some of his teachers thought he was faking. Mr Peterson was in charge of detention, and he was nice. Considerate. Eddie counted him as one of his few blessings.)
His tics got worse.
In December of his junior year, he started making noises. Short screams, grunts, quiet vocalizations. It scared him. He didn't want to go back to school, but he did. The laughter around him got louder, and he was sent out to the hallways more. He started skipping classes. He knew he'd be forced to leave anyway. So he'd sit in the boys' room, on top of a lidded toiler, his feet up on the stall door, and he'd leave cigarette burns on the walls.
Not everyone was awful. Some kids were just curious about him, asked why he acted the way he did, and he did his best to calmly explain it all. I can't help it, actually. It's just my brain works different. That turned into Eddie's brain's fucked. It's broken. He's a fucking--
So he used it. Eddie the Freak. Attention-seeking, desperate for people to notice him. So he started making devil horns, yelling from tabletops, making himself The Freak so no one could use it against him.
No one, not even Wayne, saw him cry at night, because the attention he got was never the attention he wanted. Because he was tired. So fucking tired. His limbs were sore and his voice was rough, and his neck hurt, and he was sick of being laughed at. But that was all he got.
He kept counting his blessings. Mr Peterson, who never minded Eddie's noises or the way his fists would bang against the table loudly in the silent room, who scolded the other detention-goers when they tried to tease. The Hellfire guys, who got used to his tics fairly quickly, and knew when to pause whatever they were doing if Eddie couldn't hear them over a scream or was distracted by his own body. That nice girl, Chrissy Cunningham, who would slip notes from the classes he missed or skipped into his locker or backpack with sweet smiles. (If Eddie wasn't gay, he would have fallen in love with her.) The other few students that ignored him when his tics acted up, just glancing and moving on. Wayne, bless his soul, who would come to the school to confront Eddie's teachers and complain to the principal about Eddie being mistreated by the staff.
And, oddly enough, Steve Harrington.
Eddie never saw it coming. It was a particularly bad day. He was at his locker, trying to line his books up, but a tic threw his hands up, and some books fell from his locker to the floor. He watched helplessly as papers scattered across the floor, as most students stepped around them, ignoring them, as some jocks trampled over them, over Chrissy's neat handwriting, his fists clenched at his sides. When they passed, he kneeled, picking up the books, and when he looked up, Steve Harrington was kneeling too, gathering the crumpled papers and carefully straightening them out.
He gave them to Eddie with a smile, and Eddie thought he might be dying, in some weird, upside-down dimension where Steve Harrington smiles at Eddie Munson. Eddie took them hesitantly, said thank you, and then he hit him.
He was mortified, almost dropping the papers again, jumping back as his whole body flushed with heat, staring at Steve's shoulder where his hand had just landed heavily, and he burst with a Fuck, I'm so sorry, oh my god--
But Steve had just laughed. Amazingly, it was a kind laugh, with sparkling eyes, and soft cheeks, and he said It's okay.
And then he was gone. Down the hall, after his friends, and Eddie realised his hands were trembling.
Steve kept smiling at him. Even when his friends were making fun of Eddie's Satanic cult, and of the way he couldn't keep still, and of his sad, broken brain. Even when Eddie's brain made him flip Steve off across the cafeteria, Steve saw how Eddie pulled his hand down sharply, and Steve just... laughed. Eddie fell in love with his laugh. It was kind, and it made Eddie feel better, even when he wanted to cry.
Steve graduated the next year. But he didn't leave Eddie alone. Eddie couldn't stop thinking about him, and his kind laugh, and his pretty eyes, and then the sheep Eddie adopted told him all about how cool and brave Steve was, and Eddie fell harder without even seeing him.
The world went to shit. But Eddie got to see Steve again.
Steve was still kind, even though the world was ending, and even during serious discussions, plan-making, how-to-save-the-world conversations, Eddie's tics kept going. His body jerked and shivered, and his head threw back, and his fists hit his own chest and shoulders, and he had to sit down. And Eddie found out that there are more kind people than he thought. When his tics slowed, Nancy wordlessly got him an ice pack to hold to his chest, and when he flung it across the room, Robin caught it with a casual oops, and brought it back to him. No one questioned him, or stared, or laughed, even though he knew how annoying he was.
When he woke up in the hospital, he hurt so badly he couldn't move. He just cried. Steve sat by his bed and held onto his hand. He was crying too. When Eddie stopped crying, Steve carefully slid his rings, clean of blood, onto his fingers.
This one goes here, right?
Yeah.
On the second day, his brain didn't care that he hurt. As Steve was telling him about what was going on with the others (Max was staying with the Sinclairs, Dustin's leg was almost healed), Eddie's hand smacked him across the face sharply, the sting of his rings bringing tears to his eyes before he even processed what happened. Steve wordlessly crawled onto the bed, carefully pulled Eddie against himself, and set a pillow over Eddie's lap for when his fists started hitting his legs. He'd just murmured those words, the first words he'd said to Eddie years ago.
It's okay. It's okay.
And he waited until Eddie's body fell lax against him before he carefully found Eddie's hand, laced their fingers, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.
Eddie was released from the hospital a few weeks later. He stayed in the Wheelers' basement for a few days until Steve's parents left town, for good this time, and then he moved into the Harrington house.
He likes it there. Steve is still kind. Always. He lets Eddie lay his head in his lap when his body hurts or won't stop moving, and he drags his fingers through his hair or holds a joint to his lips for him, and he smiles. (Eddie would go through the end of the world all over again for that smile.) When Eddie's head hits the wall while they're in the waiting room of the hospital for a checkup, Steve just shifts to face him and holds a hand up to the back of his head so his hand hits the wall instead, saying quietly that Eddie isn't allowed to beat his record number of concussions. He drives Eddie to Wayne's even though Eddie doesn't tic when he drives except for a few facial or vocal ones.
When Eddie whistles one night, Steve just smiles at him and says Was that a tic or are you hitting on me? and Eddie freezes, his face burning. Which would you prefer, pretty boy?
Steve kisses him.
And then Steve starts holding his hand even when he isn't having tics, even when they're with the Party. Eddie moves into Steve's room. (They always slept better when they accidentally fell asleep on the sofa together anyway.) Steve holds him when his tics are bad, and Eddie holds him during his migraines, pressing kisses as softly as he can to his forehead and his temples. Steve takes his hand when it moves to hit Eddie's face or chest. Eddie stands steady and holds Steve's hand to himself when he gets dizzy. Steve keeps ready-made ice packs in the freezer to hold to Eddie's chest and legs when they bruise from his fists. Eddie keeps his handwriting as neat as possible when he writes notes in case Steve forgets anything. When they wake up at night, breathless and sweaty and crying, the other is there, arms open, lips waiting.
One night Eddie says very softly, You know, they used to say my brain was broken.
Steve just says, Mine too.
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