#eff this shit

[sorchathered]

Look yall I’m just gonna be transparent here.

I have zero patience for cliques and childish behavior. I just want to fangirl with people who love the same shit I do and write smutty little stories. If that’s your vibe that’s awesome we can totally be friends. If you are the type to talk shit about people just because you have nothing better to do or because you are jealous of someone else I need you to gtfo of my space, I am halfway through my thirties and I’ve done some living, childish drama is something that stays in my past and I won’t let it mar my present or future.

Some of yall need to grow up. Touch grass. Go buy a vibrator to release all that bs you clearly have built up.

✌️

[simulacrum3ade68b1]

Yeeet

feel like relapsing every day

anyone else get when that one online friend that one doesn't know how they even r like irl is the only emotional support one has

:')

oh yeah i also write suicide plots in first person for school assignments way too much cuz relatable ✨/hj lmao

[ceresoktavia]

Me earlier today: maybe I should get a little more active on tumblr again, show my mutuals and friends some love, etc.

Me now: anti bs everywhere ... yeah nope ...

[c4rc1n0callibrator]

[eff-exor]

do you ever get those moods where you just wanna force someone to their knees and fuck their mouth with your fingers until they’re a drooly mess, and then rubbing it all over their pretty fucking face before slapping them, grabbing them by their hair, right at the scalp and pulling them between your thighs, and using that gorgeous mouth of theirs until you can’t even remember what the thing is that was annoying you so much anymore????…….. hahHhahAhahHAHAHA !!! no, me either

[marimeeko]

Kudo looking at Izukus memories and then saying that Izuku has an affinity for forgiving ppl who don't deserve it "like Bakugou"

And Izuku giving OFA 5 minutes later out of spite like

"If you're going to talk shit about my Kacchan maybe I don't want you in my head, damn, take 'em, Shig"

Lmao Izuku like "you come into MY BRAIN, and start acting up like that?? LEASE CANCELLED"

[neapolitandemon]

I HATE THIS [VOCALOID 8] SHIT MAN FUUUCK, also mayunarrow win

[theeryn-the-gold]

hi. im doing a solas romance for the first time in preparation for veilguard. and i just. what gives that stupid elf the right to break my baby girl’s heart by telling her about vallaslin, removes it from her (very sensually i might add), and thEN BREAKS UP WITH HER?? ALL IN ONE BREATH?? WTF?? im hunting you down solas. dagger to throat. you wont even get to watch her beat corypheus

[swirlingyouintomypoems]

HI GUYS SO IM ON S2 OF 911 AND IM INPATIENT AS FUCK SO I GOOGLED WHEN BUCK AND EDDIE GET TOGETHER BC I NEEDED TO KNOW HOW LONG I HAD TO WAIT AND THEY ARENT EVEN FUCKING TOGETHER??????? ONE OF THE REASONS I STARTED WATCHING THIS SHOW WAS BC OF A FIC I READ OF THEM SO I JUST ASSUMED THEY WERE CANNON? WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

[marsdemo]

i love reading old zines ive written and being like "i literally dont even agree w this anymore"

[rickybaby]

will buxton saying he talked with Daniel over the winter break and that he told him he couldn’t do it anymore, that he was tearing himself to pieces

I want to kms. It makes me think about the triple header after the summer break. How mclaren left him on his own to answer all the questions. That one cursed photo of him sitting alone in Spa before they tried to undercut him with Lando in the race. How despite those pretty shit first two races, he still went to monza and somehow made it to Q3 and pipped Lando at the race start for P3 before they put him on the worse strategy and finally his car giving up on him.

This man tried and tried and tried and when he said he couldn’t continue anymore, they laughed

[cryptidwithacopiccollection]

You aren't the only ghosts down here

[pervertcreep]

What happened to Otis?

[evilfloralfoolery]

Detestable Misery- Part 1/2

Pure self-indulgent snzfuckery right here. Indigo is miserably sick. Grimm is a sweet, helpful pain in the ass. I'm sure it's no surprise that this eventually happens. I'm too impatient to post how we got to this point, BUT WE DID.

________________

Indigo is a pile of blankets and misery, huddled deep beneath several layers of quilts and chenille. 

The incessant knocking can wear itself to death before he even considers moving.  Whatever it is, it can and will wait.

That is, until the door creaks open.

Indigo clutches a dagger and waits. Whomever has waltzed in uninvited had best–

“Indy? You in here?” 

Gods, really?

“No,” he says in a most vehement and flat tone.

If Grimm had any manner of common sense, he would step back from the threshold of that door and make haste in the other direction.

But of course, he does not.  Instead, the man invites himself in, walks straight into the living room area, and just . . . sits beside him.

As if he belongs there.

Indigo pulls away the blanket that is cloaking his entire body (including his head) and fixes the other man with a stare that could cause Antarctica to tremble. 

“Now is not the time,” he says.

Grimm sits back, taking in the sight of his voluminous mess of tousled hair, wrinkled navy satin pajamas, and general state of complete and utter disarray.  “Fuck, Indy. You look like shit.”

Honestly. . . 

The corner of his lip curls. “Thank you ever so much.” 

“Hey, don't be pissed.” Grimm pats his knee. “You're still pretty.”

The audacity of this smirking bastard. . . 

“As I said, now is not the time.  I think it best that you leave.”

Grimm doesn’t miss the veiled threat.  He simply chooses to ignore it.  Indigo would have added a biting finish to the commentary, had his own body not seen fit to engage in a convulsive fit of coughing.

“Yeah, I don’t think so.”  He lays a hand on Indigo's shoulder, as if to soothe his prickling indignation.  “I thought you looked tired earlier.  But this is some next level flu shit.” 

“Grimm, please.”  Indigo clears his throat with a rough noise and does his best to look as serious as possible.  “You needn’t stay with me.  I am perfectly capable of looking after myself.”

“Whatever.”  Grimm waves a dismissive hand.  “That’s not part of our deal and you know it.” 

Which was not only bothersome, but also inherently and infuriatingly true. His only manner of recourse is to drag himself into the bedroom and lock the other man out, which is precisely what he attempts.  Except that his legs refuse to comply.  His attempt and rising and flouncing in the opposite direction is met with an unsteady weakness that would have sent him stumbling to the floor, had it not been for Grimm’s exceptional reflexes.

“Whoa there,” Grimm says, as if he is some manner of show pony.  “I think you’d better sit your ass back down right now.” 

Like he has a choice.

He sinks back onto the cushions and crosses his arms over his chest in a classic “shivering” pose, realizes the utter ridiculousness of it, and flops back against the couch with a sigh.

“If you would be so kind as to–”  He grits his teeth. “--stay, I would . . . appreciate the company.”

Not entirely a lie.  But appearing weak in front of others had never been his strong suit. Still, it isn’t as if his body is giving him a choice in the matter.

“Hey.” Grimm squeezes his arm. “Don't sweat it.”

“Grimm, you needn't–”

“Shut up, Indy.”

Indigo huffs a sigh. “Gods, I am an unkempt mess.”

“Yeah.” Grimm slips an arm around his shoulders. “Come over here. I'm toasty as fuck.” 

The sentiment is so natural, so artlessly bandied about as if it is the expected and common response.

He allows himself to lean into Grimm's touch. . . that is until his sinuses disagree with the solution.

He snatches the blanket from his lap, thinks better of it, and steeples his hands over his mouth and nose instead.

“Hh’EKTSSH! EH’KGSSCH! Huhhh-IKGDSCH!”

Sneezing into his damnable hands. How utterly vile. 

“Bless you,” Grimm says. 

Gently. With such soft compassion.

Warmth pinkens his cheeks, but Grimm is more concerned with petting him than watching his expressions.

“Thank you,” he says with a careful clearing of his throat. “How did you. . . know of my disquiet?” 

“Dunno.” Grimm shrugs a shoulder. “Just did.” 

Against his better judgment, Indigo curls himself into Grimm's embrace and allows the other man to stroke his tangled mess of waves. 

“Want me to make you some tea or something?” 

Grimm's impossibly deep voice is a dark rumble against his ear. 

“Not at this moment, thank you.” Indigo shivers just a touch and Grimm drapes one of the heavier quilts over his shoulders without losing contact. 

His breath catches and he ducks beneath the cover of the blanket with a sudden, violent “--EKGGISSHuhh!” 

“Bless you,” Grimm says. 

A clean square of cotton finds its way into his palm and Indigo sighs with more relief than he intends to portray.

“Thank you, Grimm. I was certain I had used them all.” 

“You might’ve.” Grimm rubs the space between his shoulders. “That's one of mine.” 

“One of. . .” Indigo sits up. Looks at the thing.

A sly smirk curves those damnable kiss-worthy lips. “Uh huh.”

“Oh, ah. Well, then.” Indigo dabs at the edge of nose and promptly wishes he hadn't. “IhhhAESSSHH–uhh!” 

The sneeze practically rips itself from his chest in the most heaving, unnecessarily dramatic way possible and he is more than grateful for the handkerchief’s thick confines. 

“Fuuuuck, Indy. Bless you.” Grimm shakes his head. “Goddamn.” 

“Yes, I am aware.” Indigo gives his nose a short, almost demure blow and seeks refuge beneath the heavy blanket yet again.

And against the inviting warmth of his companion’s body. Grimm is a veritable furnace, practically radiating heat. 

“Ugh, I feel positively abysmal,” Indigo murmurs into Grimm's shirt. 

“It's okay, Indy.” Arms tighten around him, drawing him close. “I've got you.” 

Gods, what is about that damnable phrase that dissolves his defenses in such a manner? Because Grimm does, indeed, have him.

In many, many ways. 

“You know what you need, right?”

Indigo sniffles into the handkerchief with a most indecent liquidity.  “Some manner of bullet to relieve me of my misery?”

Grimm snorts.  “Fuck, you’re dramatic.” 

Indigo chuckles with a hoarse rasp of breath and Grimm rolls his eyes.  The action isn’t at all serious, of course.  Purely performative.  But Indigo appreciates the candor. 

“You need a long soak in that fancy ass bathtub.”  Grimm untangles a snarl of silver from Indigo’s unkempt mane.  “Maybe a comb, too.” 

“I haven’t the energy for such indulgences,” Indigo says.  Or rather, mumbles.

“Yeah?  Well, lucky for you, I’ve got plenty.”

“Grimm . . . “

“Shut up and let me help your sick ass.” 

Hard to argue with that.  

“Very well,” Indigo concedes with more than a little reluctance.  

Truth be told, he would much prefer to simply lie against Grimm’s chest for the better part of the afternoon, if he were able. 

(TBC....)

[paperori0]

jokes on you Cross she’s a girl

but a tough one that’ll kick your balls

OC belongs to: @cryptidwithacopiccollection

man i love Leah’s design she sounds really cool and Cryptid your drawings are AMAZING 👍👍

[eff-exor]

them jerking off in front of me while making me watch & match the pace of their strokes on a dildo they’re forcing me to ride, hitting me every time i lose focus & get overwhelmed by how good it feels to be porn for them, them replacing the dildo as they’re about to cum, causing my eyes to roll back and me to bite down on my bone gag BRBRNEMRR