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#wedgie woman
somepancakeonline5377 · 4 months
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Confession when I was in elementary I used to think “honestly they have something going on” and I still think that. Do yall fw this ship or nah?
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roboboys posting cause im autistic
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phatazzvplwedgie · 2 months
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🏆😈🏆
🏆BIG JUICY WHITE MOMMY ASS🍑HER THICK THIGHS AND BEEFY BUTT😈SEE THROUGH🍑VPL WEDGIE🏆PT.1😈
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my-random-art · 6 days
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enbyautist-transgirl · 7 months
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I WAS JUST APPROVED FOR ESTROGEN SHOTS <333 EEEEE 💉💉💉💉🩸🩸🩸
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sketch-twentytwo · 3 months
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The CU Movie needs at least ONE (1) sequel film to make it's tagline—"The First Epic Movie"—make sense.
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lovelypink2005 · 1 year
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I wonder how many people/kids back then actually DID send the Scholastic Inc. This mail right after they finished reading the 5th book...
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libbys-braincell-loss · 10 months
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My sister and i watched Captain Underpants: the First Epic Movie yesterday for the first time, and as someone whos only read like 3 books of Captain Underpants,
I really love George and Harold's dynamic
The movie really emphasized how good of bros they are, and i love it
Also, i was iffy on the fact that they gave Mr. Krupp/Captain Underpants a love interest, but tbh Edith is sweet, and the way Krupp AND Captain interact with her makes my heart MELT
The awkwardness with Krupp, and Captain smiling so genuinely and happily when seeing Edith's eyes is adorable ngl?
Ik im very late to the party, but i never expected to like the movie so much
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biolizardboils · 2 years
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the Gamera parody on page 84 of Wedgie Woman my beloved (ref pics under the cut)
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(kononon0818 if you see this, i hope i got the japanese right!)
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one-and-a-half-threat · 10 months
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every so often im reminded that pretty much any source of media has a fandom/fanbase. and every so often my mind is blown. and every so often i remind myself that people finding joy in the same things that once brought me joy, even if it was years and years ago, is such a wonderful thing. and every so often i think that humans are amazing.
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phatazzvplwedgie · 23 days
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🏆🍑🏆
🏆BIG JUICY WHITE MOMMY ASS🍑HER THICK THIGHS AND BEEFY BUTT😈SEE THROUGH🍑VPL WEDGIE🏆PT.2😈
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enbyautist-transgirl · 6 months
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I have taken my second official estrogen shot eeeeeeee
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thehmn · 9 months
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We often say children aren’t born hateful, they’re taught hate, and this is one of the best examples of that.
A public library in Denmark put on a drag show for kids. The performers made these wonderful princess dresses for the occasion.
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And of course hateful people protested outside. But when I saw the protestors I could tell they were about the same age as me which meant they’ve been watching a “drag show for kids” their whole fucking childhood. May I present Vera.
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She’s a cleaning lady played by a male actor. Her makeup looks like that because that was the stereotypical look for lower class women at the time. She started out as a background character who’d claim to know all sorts of famous people because she cleaned their house and people loved her so much she eventually got her own show.
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And like, she looks like a drag queen character. I’ve seen drag queens with personas very close to this. Vera’s style of comedy was even very close to that sort of funny drag. A low class woman who acts feminine and then randomly does something like fix a wedgie.
And that’s definitely not lost on the younger generation. Just check out Ivan’s cosplay of her (LINK)
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And most countries have their own version of this and you just want to ask them “Remember this character from your childhood? The man in drag, yes. Please share the horrible trauma you apparently got from watching them on tv”
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wynnyfryd · 7 months
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Trailer park Steve AU part 19
part 1 | part 18 | ao3
November
As annoyed as Steve is to admit it, Dustin’s plan actually works.
(And he is annoyed, for the record. That little shithead should be glad he’s still grounded because Steve’s sorely tempted to invite him over just to give him a wedgie.)
Somewhere in the weeks following The Abduction Incident, he and Eddie become friends. Like, real ones. Friends who talk and laugh and shoot the shit in passing, who trade movies and mix tapes and ask each other if they saw the latest headlines in the morning paper.
They haven’t really had much chance to properly hang out, but Steve sees him most mornings, because he promised Wayne to keep making sure Eddie doesn’t sleep in on school days, and sometimes when they’re both around in the afternoons they’ll have a couple beers together, share a cigarette on the lumpy loveseat on the front porch of Eddie’s place. 
And Eddie’s…
Eddie’s funny. Oddly charming. Theatrical and weird. Steve already knew that last part, but it’s so much better when it’s not being used as an offensive weapon against him. He likes being in on Eddie’s jokes. 
Just plain likes Eddie, if he’s honest. 
“Steve?”  
Which should be crazy. It is crazy; if someone had told him a couple years ago that he’d be spending his free time with The Freak — that he would regret missing the guy’s Halloween show because of a Family Video shift, or that he would spend a week working up the courage to ask him if he wants to ride to school with Robin and him in the mornings? He probably would have kicked their ass for the mere suggestion. 
But now he’s half-orphaned trailer trash who knows that monsters exist, so. Eh.
“Steve! Hello? Earth to Steve.”
Steve blinks, focuses on the fingers Robin’s snapping in front of his face. “Huh?” he asks dumbly. 
He expects her to roll her eyes and pretend to chastise him with some butchered version of his name— ‘Steven Cardamom Harrington, were you daydreaming again?’ — but she just snaps her fingers again and begs, “A little help here? Please?” Her eyes are wide, her shoulder scrunched up to her ears with stress, and Steve realizes that:
a) he’s been staring blankly at a cart of go-backs for ten minutes instead of actually doing his job, and
b) the store is suddenly packed.
Friday night, and the rain that’s been hanging over Hawkins all week finally let up, so now everyone and their mother is apparently out running errands. 
He moves to man the front desk because the line is almost out the door, and Robin buzzes around the room like a shaken can of pure panic, her bangs sticking to her forehead as she zooms up and down aisles with the restock cart. She keeps making crazy eyes at parents when they stop her to ask about new releases or the age-appropriateness of films, because the parents are distracting her from intercepting their little gremlin children, who keep putting movies on the wrong shelves on purpose just to piss her off. 
“Dumbo! Does not go! In the horror section!” Steve hears her bark at a group of third graders, and he has to crouch down behind the counter for a second so she doesn’t see him laughing when she follows that up with a strangled, “Ugh!!!”
Okay. 
Entertaining as this is, he’s not getting chewed out by Keith again for missing quotas because Robin blew a gasket and scared off all the customers. 
“Hey, Rob?” he calls out to her as he hands a woman her change. 
“What?” 
“Go take a smoke break?” 
He knows she doesn’t smoke. He also knows that sometimes rushes like this get to be too much for her — the noise, the lights, the chaos of a crowd (“the mouth sounds, Steve; good god, the mouth sounds”) — and she needs a minute or twelve to go stand outside in the cool air, flap her hands around and scream behind a dumpster or whatever until she calms down.
Her eyes flash at the suggestion like she’s about to snap at him, but then she takes a deep breath and marches herself out the back door without another word.
With Robin cleared out, the crowd thins out pretty quickly. Steve gets the line taken care of at a speed he’s definitely not getting paid enough to maintain, and the kids get bored of playing ‘rearrange the inventory’ and wander off to the arcade. 
It’s sort of soothing, the mindless flow of it: scan, click, click, make change, “thanks for choosing Family Video,” print receipt, repeat. His mind wanders again as he works, but it doesn’t sink into its usual sludge of despair; doesn’t wail ‘house bills mom pills stress fuck-fuck’ like a tornado siren in his head until he gives himself a migraine. 
No, he’s thinking about denim. About cigarette smoke.
Crooked smile; Chiclet teeth.
Patches and pins with strange names and stranger artwork.
And then he’s thinking about how this is the second time tonight he’s started daydreaming about Eddie and wills himself to knock it off.
What? The guy’s friendly with him a handful of times, and suddenly he’s, like, obsessed with him?
He’s not. 
He’s not. 
He's just… pleasantly distracted by him; that's all.
“Thanks for choosing Family Video,” he tells the last customers as he hands them their receipt. The second they turn to leave, he slumps over the counter with his head pillowed on his arms, a wave of exhaustion hitting him because holy shit that was so many people and thank god the store’s finally empty. 
The bell over the door dings.
Goddammit. 
Steve lifts his head, reminds himself not to scowl at paying customers because he really needs this job, but then— 
“Eddie! Hey!”
— 
part 20
tag list part 1 below cut let me know if you want to be added tomorrow
@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures
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harveywritings92 · 1 year
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[A random woman rudely shoves a guy towards R/n exclaiming “look, this is perfect! she’s a cutie and all alone have fun!” Before the guy could protest the woman runs back to her table to be with her date, the guy then nervously turns back to R/n who's staring him uncomfortably.]
Nervous guy:...uh, hey! there *ahem* I’m Ryan and you...
{A large shadow slowly cast over them and Ryan follows it, and shits bricks at the sight of Ghost and König standing before him, with a scary twinkle in their eyes, while holding ice-cream cones.}
Ryan: [terrified] *Gulp*...Are with t-two very big guys.
[cut to Ryan  atomically wedgied with two ice creams cones stuck to his head, waddling back to his friend and her date, both are gawking at him in shock.]
Ryan: Her husbands said no...
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derekhighwaytf · 11 months
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Poindextrin
This is something a little different for my nerds out there so bear with me if that's not your thing.
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Every woman wants to fuck you and all men want to be you…and also fuck you.  Who can blame them?  After all, you’re Etch, a famous rockstar who can fuck anything he wants! And after yet another adrenaline-rushed concert, you need something to take the load off. Your ears are still ringing with the echoes of screaming fans, your muscles thrumming with a mix of exhaustion and sex appeal. You're sweaty, high on the thrill of it all, and you reach for a pill bottle handed to you by a zealous groupie. Hallucinogens, you think. Just a little added kaleidoscope for the night. The label reads "Poindextrin", but you shrug it off as some quirky branding.
A few minutes pass and although you’re not higher, your voice definitely is.  Midway through a laugh, it squeaks up an octave or two, emerging from your lips high-pitched and nasally. It's like the voice of a caricature of a geek from a corny 80s movie, and you're momentarily shocked, a ripple of unease breaking your post-show high.
But it doesn't end there. You feel a strange lightness spreading through your body, a shrinking sensation that's both alien and deeply uncomfortable. Your tattoos, those symbols of rebellion, dissolve into clear, untouched skin. Your pecs, your arms, the product of hours spent in the gym, deflate as if poked by an invisible needle until they're just skin and bone. Your solid abs flatten out, vanishing as if they were never there.  Instead of a gym-bound rock God, your body has become stick-thin, almost like you’ve never worked out a day in your life.
Looking for assurance that this is just some bad trip, you stare into a nearby mirror, but it doesn’t take long for you to realize what’s happening, especially when you see your wild blonde hair start to recede into your scalp, your rebellious mane getting shorter and shorter until your left with a crisp, sharp #2 buzzcut on the top of your pale white head. The reflection then blurs, your vision wavering, and you fumble around for something to clear it. You’ve always had perfect eyesight, but now you can only see a handful of colors, like a kaleidoscope, but not the type you’d planned to see tonight.  Your hand lands on a pair of glasses with lenses as thick as soda bottles. Sliding them on, you’re taken aback by how large the world appears through these comically oversized glasses.
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A glance down reveals a different set of clothes than what you remember putting on. Your stylish, rebelliously worn attire has been replaced with buttoned-up shirts, high waisted pants, a neat bowtie, a plastic pocket protector crammed with pens, suspenders and a pair of the clunkiest loafer shoes known to man. It's as if you've been dropped into a different world, a world where you are not the leading man banging chicks left and right, but instead the side character getting his lunch money stolen and being dunked in the toilet.
Your usually nonchalant demeanor begins to crack, replaced by an alien neuroticism that compels you to straighten your bowtie and adjust your glasses. Your once raucous hotel room seems overly cluttered, dirty. A wave of anxiety hits you, a compulsion to clean and order things taking over.
Then, as if things couldn't get any worse, an uncontrollable urge overcomes you. The panic is momentary, but the shame that follows the realization that you've peed your pants is far more potent. This is something you’ve never experienced, but starts to feel more and more familiar, an embarrassing incontinence problem that’s marred you since you were a teenager. Just another mark against your former coolness.
But the most distressing change comes last. Memories of rocking stages, of endless nights of passion, and the artistry of music start to blur, replaced by memories of a past that isn't yours. You remember being shoved into lockers, the stinging humiliation of public wedgies, the nights spent huddled over a Dungeons & Dragons game instead of getting head from a gaggle of groupies. The word virgin comes to mind, because that’s what you are, a virgin.  A gay virgin who’s never had the confidence to make the first move.  Thinking about such an act makes your acne-ridden cheeks heat up. 
Finally, you recall a name that is not Etch, but instead Ernest.  Ernest Bartholomew Humphries. Your hands shake as you run them through your buzzcut, wondering just how on earth you’d stayed up this late.  You need to get some rest for your new IT job tomorrow, dork.
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