#*eyes emoji* Tumblr posts

  • starcadestration
    23.05.2022 - 1 hour ago

    Mmmmmm highlighter my beloved....

    #Don't @me about my typography I want it to not be legable its a reflection of self skslslks #I'm soooooo tired 😭😭 throwing puppy dog eyes at the sky 4 god to let me sleep but he keeps ignoring me #Like the I don't see you emoji #my art #artists on tumblr #art#traditional art#sketchbook
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  • shroomboye
    23.05.2022 - 3 hours ago

    I got Reese's puffs in my bowl Now my day's on cruise control

    I got Reese's puffs in my bowl And just like that I'm on a roll

    #weltlock cafe au #Shroom's art#sona art #inspired by the cafe cuties skinline #and also bee and puppycat heart eyes emoji #the skirt is supposed to look like it has strawberry seeds #the shirt is supposed to look like the inside of a strawberry #bonnet is supposed to look like stawberry leaves #because her hair is pink #in her original color pallet shes orange on the color wheel #but shhh its my sona i get to say what color her hair is #sorry for rambling lmfao i just had a lot of fun on this
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  • murkyhazed
    23.05.2022 - 5 hours ago

    the question is do i bring back colin robinson

    #* &. ooc. #i seein wwdits blogs again and its kinda got me like eyes emoji
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  • seafoam-taide
    23.05.2022 - 6 hours ago

    for the ask game, how about taranza and/or the conductor?

    Taranza:

    I looove him he's pathetic he's a little bit of an ass he has two little fangs he's my beloved spider son he has six hands!!! why did they do that thing with the orange eyes tho. also. (points) homestuck looking motherfucker

    Conductor:

    i promise i like conductor more than this suggests but its also not that much more. and i like fanworks where he has grandpa energy but when i was playing my main thought was that he was not a good person lol. also i do love his design but what even is up with it like why does he look like that

    from this

    #self isolates but yearns for connection #ask game#ahit conductor#taranza#ahit#kirby #fun fact about me i looove spider themed guys like that. muffet taranza webber my own oc that looks like that. theyre so good #fun fact 2 my first ever drawing of anything related to kirby ever was an attempt at a taranza gijinka #because first and foremost i draw humanoids and i was too scared to try to draw the kirby orbs #also about the 'project my own issues onto them' part: any character i care about who deals with grief gets this one its required lol #anyway if anyone else wants to send me an ask for this id love to receive it eyes emoji eyes emoji eyes emoji #thank you for sending one also!!! btw!!! i love doing these!!!
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  • scaredtobleed
    23.05.2022 - 6 hours ago

    me: "i don't date musicians" Bug: *starts playing synth and guitar/writing songs "again"(?????)*

    #it's okay #he doesn't date emo girls #we're both breaking rules here #but he's like really good at it and i'm enamored #why'd he stop? #(pretend the heart eye emoji is here)
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  • compatiissante
    23.05.2022 - 8 hours ago

    SLAMS HANDS DOWN

    I’M CAUGHT UP WITH THE MAIN MY HERO SERIES

    #└ — get my shit back together ( ooc. ) #haven't touched the movies but....... :eyes emoji:
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  • battle-of-alberta
    23.05.2022 - 10 hours ago

    i love games that dont make me feel like i jinx it the second i start watching : )

    #please dont misinterpret this gods of sports or whatever #im cooking dinner i am listening #i keep looking right as we score so i am the eyes emoji x100 rn
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  • hotniatheron
    23.05.2022 - 10 hours ago

    tenoch huerta namor might convince me to see a marvel movie in theaters for the first time since black panther 

    #akldjsk;lfsd #i'm like EYES EMOJI
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  • sylvctica
    23.05.2022 - 11 hours ago

    .

    #[ i am fighting a mad annoying eyeache rn so i will be on poof leave ] #[ usually i get these when tired but i slept 9h!! ] #[ gun emojis at my eyes ] #ooc // aid talks.
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  • jack-o-phantom
    22.05.2022 - 11 hours ago

    Heyo

    Heads up that I'm going to post a WIP of the MerEclipse I'm working on! Warning that he is indeed hard to draw, if that is an indicator of anything

    #txt#theharetalks#mersclipse#yeah #you can thank Mush for roping me into it #but Eclipse is a favorite of mine so that's forgiven #*eyes emoji*
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  • cuteteacakes
    22.05.2022 - 12 hours ago

    “Oh! I finally found you!”

    “I’m so sorry for missing my lesson yesterday! My father had me learning sword play all day yesterday and I was so sore by the end.. but if you’re willing I’d love to learn what you had planned!”

    {✎} - "Oh, Prince Ashton, I'm afraid I'm not quite ready myself..." The professor was toweling of a wet head having just stepped from the shower. Another towel was wrapped around his waist. "Would you mind waiting while I dress myself?"

    #fckinbubblesmulti #oop *eyes emoji*
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  • plantriarchy
    22.05.2022 - 13 hours ago

    found a fantastic guide/template for concept portfolio’s AFTER spending my week off tryna make a portfolio but not know wtf to do

    #im fine IM FINE #TOTALLY DIDNT ALSO SPOT A JOB ADVERT WITH IT FUK #sid enote cannot wait to make fanfic art after this cuz EYES EMOJI
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  • saipng
    22.05.2022 - 14 hours ago

    society if i ever actually finished a tomgreg fic.. .. . .

    #pleading eyes emoji
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  • narcolini
    22.05.2022 - 14 hours ago

    seeing gold

    kitty x gn!reader, 3313 words, implied violence, mild nsfw
    request: whispering/joking/flirting with a lover in a meeting(wedding) and trying not to disturb others + fixing their tie(gold chains), from @cositapreciosa​
    a/n: as a heads up, ive listed this as gn because theres no mention of anything to suggest otherwise imo, but there are a couple feminine versions of petnames used <3 snogs

    Yours is the loudest table in the room. But you’re sure they expected that, considering the placement. You also expect it’s no surprise to the bride that Ramón is sitting here, drinking and rubbing shoulders with his friends, rather than at the table with the rest of their family. Shit, maybe it was her decision. You can’t imagine he’s an easy character to introduce to the in-laws. He is the only person in the room wearing fur. 

    ‘You okay, baby?’ Kitty flits the question by your ear, turning back to his conversation once you nod and smile, and squeeze his thigh under the table. 

    He’s attentive as ever, even with distractions. Even with an Arellano in his ear and that weasel, Romeo, flicking pea-sized napkin balls across the table. You don’t hide how you feel about that. You stare him down until his hands go up in surrender, his pre-rolled ammunition abandoned on the tablecloth. 

    This isn’t the company you would usually keep.

    ‘Am I a plus one to Ramón’s plus one?’ you’d asked Kitty, after he’d said that you were invited. 

    It was something you hadn’t even considered as a possibility. You’d never spoken to Enedina, or any of the other siblings for that matter. You weren’t on their radar, you were certain of that, and you’d barely even made an impression on Ramón. So, to get an invite to the wedding party, to an event that high profile… Dios, this guy must really like you. 

    ‘No, no, we’re all going,’ he’d said. ‘I asked if I could bring you too.’ 

    ‘Alfredo’s going? Romeo?’

    He’d nodded. You’d sighed. 

    ‘Okay,’ you agreed, ‘as long as the bar’s free. And you promise you won’t leave me alone with them.’

    He was excited; he wanted to show you off. ‘Of course,’ he’d insisted, ‘I’ll never leave your side.’

    And he hasn’t. He even walked you to the bathrooms and back. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like it, that level of care, that willingness to keep you company in any place that might feel out of your depth. Which this definitely does. You’re glad the invite only extended to the party; if you had to keep yourself poised through the church ceremony, you might not have made it to the fun part, and with Kitty as a pew-partner, you’d probably have been kicked out for laughing, or something worse. Something you’d have to repent for. 

    Around you, the band draws quiet and you watch staff ushering guests to their seats, clearing the floor. You spot the shorter brother, Benjamín, crossing the room, greeting people as he goes, smiling, placating like politicians do. It’s no secret that this is an event of dual purpose. Every moment is an opportunity, for him and you both, really. If you were feeling more adventurous, you could make some good friends here. Good as in beneficial. Profitable. 

    There’s a roar of laughter from the group, Alfredo rocks back on his seat with the force of his outburst. You’re almost embarrassed, almost, hot in the face as you tug on Kitty’s elbow. It’s like being sat with the kids that parents couldn’t find sitters for. You’re the only one paying attention, the only one dumb enough to try and keep them in check.

    ‘They’re starting,’ you hush at him, gesturing with your eyes. ‘Listen.’

    Kitty’s laughter weans off as he turns toward you, compliant, his body first, followed by his head. His chair is parallel with yours, but he ends up sitting with his chest to your shoulder, one arm resting over the back of your seat. His knee against your thigh. He has to look past you to see Benjamín, who’s donning a mic in the centre of the room now.

    You can smell Kitty’s aftershave, the mint on his breath, feel the warmth of his body against you. His heartbeat, no, that’s yours, drumming in your throat. God. He gets to you quicker than you care to admit. You put your head to the right to watch the speech. If you turn yourself completely, the way Kitty did, he’d just pull you back to lean against him, and then your focus would be lost entirely. Neither of you are very good at keeping your hands to yourself.

    ‘Want to make a bet?’ he asks, lowering his voice to keep it between you. ‘You think he’ll cry or not?’

    You snort and whisper back, ‘He should. I’d want my brother to cry at my wedding.’

    ‘Planning that far ahead, ay?’ He sucks a breath between his teeth. ‘I should start saving already, yeah?’ 

    You roll your eyes. ‘Ci, no more clothes until you get me a ring, Arturo.’

    He hums and you feel it more than hear it, the vibration in his chest. He’s so close now. Something about the marriage joke has pulled him taut against you, made his breathing heavy over your shoulder. 

    ‘You wanna go somewhere private?’ he asks, talking through the catch in his throat. 

    ‘Now?’ 

    He coughs and spares a glance to the other guests at your table, as if anyone’s paying attention to the two of you. Then he shifts, lifting from the top of your chair to run his hand down the back of your arm, fingers trailing the soft of your bicep. The flesh beneath prickles into goosebumps. You cross your legs, and force a breath through your nose.

    ‘I’m not in the mood for speeches,’ he says. 

    ‘I can tell.’ 

    You’re trying to focus, trying to be very obvious in your refusal to look at him. Back straight, eyes on cleared space of the dance floor. 

    His gaze seers into your profile. 

    ‘Come on,’ he purrs, hot by your ear, ‘they won’t notice if we leave now.’

    The guests are still settling into their seats, moving from the bar, abandoning conversations to sit and to listen while Benjamín makes light-hearted jokes. If you went now, it’d be easily missed, if you wait, you’ll have Kitty’s distracting voice in your ear until the segment ends. And you know how these things go on. It’ll be the brother, and then the other brother, the pastor, the groomsmen, the abuelos, if they’re alive still. 

    ‘Dios mio,’ you mutter, ‘okay.’ 

    You shoot him a look and then stand, but not to your full height. You duck away from the table like you’re sneaking from a cinema screen, low enough to be out of people’s eye-line. 

    Kitty doesn’t show the same care. You hear what can only be the slap of his palm to Ramón’s shoulder as he leaves, followed by a rumbling exchange of snickering, or encouragement, or whatever it is they say about these things. You’d think Ramón would scold him, given the circumstances, but Kitty’s grinning when you glance back. Strutting after you like the party is his and his alone. His shoulders are back, his hands working to pin the middle button of his jacket. 

    He’s looking about too, flicking his eyes left and right, in a way that you’d think was nerves if you didn’t know him so well. He’s hoping they’re watching, that’s why he does it. Can’t go anywhere without wondering if people are giving him a second glance. 

    God, how he’s crept up on you. He’s not your type, wasn’t your type. If you’d never seen him on his own, clingy and whining, you wouldn’t be here. You might even think he’s intolerable. But the reality is, every eye roll he triggers, every disbelieving scoff you perform, just makes you more fond of him. Annoying has become endearing, some how. That’s his way. Pester and pester until you give in, though, really, it doesn’t take much. Not now. You’re as willing as he is. He’s brought it out of you, taught you to want freely and gluttonously. Reminded you what it’s like to indulge. 

    His hands find your ass from behind, then your waist. His chin comes over your shoulder to whisper to you, ‘Left, mami. That way.’

    You turn at his guidance, out of the main hall and away from the tinny-bass of the mic’s speaker. The sound grows quieter the further you go, until you’re in a hallway empty enough to feel private, and Benjamín’s voice is no clearer than a car stereo. Before you can ask, here?, Kitty’s spinning you back to face him, lips gunning for yours.

    Here. It’s hidden enough. 

    He kisses you, facial hair scratching, tequila tongue licking into yours. You meet it messily, hungry for it now it’s there, hot on the platter. You pull him in by the back of his neck. 

    When the yellow-tint shades he’s wearing dig into your cheek, you ignore it; but he notices, of course he does, he doesn’t want them to bend, so he leans away to raise them onto his head. 

    You hum a laugh, settling your hands onto his lapels. ‘Qué panchero.’

    ‘Qué? Son caras, baby.’

    You step back, bringing him with you, so he can press you against the wall. ‘And you’re meant to be making the most of this.’

    ‘You’re right,’ he says, dropping his head to kiss your neck. ‘Been thinking about this since the service.’ 

    His mouth softens. Open lips, teeth grazing. His knee pushes between your legs.

    ‘This?’ You pant. ‘In a church?’

    He smiles against your skin. ‘I never said I was a good boy.’

    You groan. ‘Please.’

    ‘Please?’ he mirrors, shooting a teasing look through his lashes. 

    ‘Please shut up.’

    He laughs out of his nose, taking the cue for what it is. When he steps back, he creates enough space between you to work at his belt, unbuckling it, then moving to the zip beneath. You slouch into the wall, watching him with your bottom lip caught on your teeth. 

    It isn’t like you to be so public with this shit. At least, you never have been before, not at something so important. Today is different, clearly. You’ve left the thin stretch of your morals behind the complimentary bar. And, well, the heartbeat is drumming so loud between your ears that you can’t even hear the party anymore, and the corridor is dimly lit, smouldering almost, and empty, properly empty. So, really, how public is it? You and Kitty may as well be the only two people in the world. The only couple in the building.

    The only pair upright and scorching hot. 

    Knee between your legs, thighs spreading the closer he gets. 

    ‘Why,’ he starts, breathing into the words, ‘am I the only one undressing?’ 

    His pants hang open at his waist, underwear exposed, cotton taut and thin over his eagerness. 

    You tilt your hips forward, an invite. ‘Porque eres demasiado lento, bobo.’ 

    He smiles devilishly, in-offended, and puts his hands to work, fingers tugging at your clothes. Go on, you think, hurry up. The hunger settles in your stomach, falling lower the more he touches you. Thumbnails scratching your sides, fingertips dragging down your ass, you pant, you take the edge of his ear between your teeth. 

    ‘Ay, Kitty!’

    The shout is as jarring as a bucket of ice water. 

    Kitty’s hands still, his forehead dropping to lean on your chest. He hasn’t looked, but knows the voice well enough to sigh, and curse, and then reach for the fastening of his slacks without any further protest. 

    You, however, have cranked your head to look at him, pinche Ramón, always here when you don’t want him to be. He stands at the nearest corner to you, a furious look on his face, shoulders lifting with each heaving breath. You could have guessed that he’d ran here, or at least hot-footed in his Jordans to find you. He looks like a runaway bride, six foot and desperate, swaying. 

    ‘Is it important, cabrón?’ you ask, shuffling your clothes back into place as Kitty steps away. 

    You wish he’d tell him to fuck off; you know he won’t, he can’t, but importantly, he wouldn’t want to. He craves the thrill of Ramón’s antics as much as he wants alone time with you. 

    Ramón ignores you, looking purposely at Kitty instead. ‘Ahora. Vamanos, ya.’

    Your boyfriend nods, no questions. The only apology you get, is a brief palm to your cheek and a tight, excusable smile, before he follows Ramón back toward the party.

    Whatever it is, is enough to get Mónito’s boxers in a twist, so you try to sever the annoyance you feel and set it aside for later. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t. It is his sister’s wedding, after all, and you were missing the party you’d been so graciously invited to—for a taste of the man you could have anywhere, anytime—it’s hardly that unjust that you should be forced to go back and enjoy it. 

    As you re-enter the main room, you don’t note a difference, or any obvious disturbance. All that’s changed, is the speeches are seemingly over and the music has started up again. The guests are split between the bar, the tables, and the, ah, you set your eyes on it, the dance floor. Something you can put your mind to. You make a b-line for it and dissolve into the crowd, catching the first hand extended to you. If Kitty was taking care of business, then you would handle the fun, and keep yourself entertained until he could finish what he’d started.  

    You’re a few songs in before you spot him again. 

    He’s spearheading the usual group, the narco-juniors that follow Ramón like well-trained dogs, coming through the doors to the venue. Ramón leaves them almost immediately, heading toward his older brother, and the others filter off into the party. Giddy like children. You snort, amusing yourself. They had probably stumbled out for a smoke, feigned an emergency to get away, too bored of formality to behave like adults any longer. It wouldn’t be the first time.

    You step away from the group you’d been dancing with, putting yourself onto the edge of the wooden floor, right where it meets the carpet. Kitty’s scanning the room for you, fiddling with the cuffs of his blazer as he walks. He’d find you quicker without those fucking sunglasses. You must be invisible in the orange of the lights. 

    ‘Kitty,’ you call.

    His head pulls toward you, correcting his direction with little change in his face. His mouth is set in a pout which, to him, is as serious as he gets. Cheeks hollow, brow pinched above the bridge of his nose.  

    Hm, you thought you’d at least be shown a smile. A smirk. 

    He ducks his chin as he walks, not looking up again until he’s in front of you, one arm curling around your waist. 

    ‘You good?’ he asks, passing a few final glances behind him, and over your shoulder.

    You frown. ‘Are you good? What happened?’

    He looks tense, not stressed, but coiled and rigid with unspent energy. The hand that isn’t on the lower curve of your back is set into a fist at his side. 

    Of course. There’s only one thing those plebes love more than partying.

    You sigh, leaning into his hold. ‘Fighting, Arturo, at a wedding?’ You sound like his mother, so you force a laugh to counteract it. You’re not scolding him. You aren’t trying to, at least.  

    ‘Pinche payaso deserved it,’ he mutters, too serious to care if you’re laughing at him or being condescending. ‘It’s good now,’ he shrugs, ‘it’s done.’

    ‘Who? What?’

    ‘Doesn’t matter. No lo conoces.’

    You watch him switch, see the moment he decides to let it go, or pretends to, with an unconvincing smile put toward you. His lips stretch into it while his hands shift to your hips, thumbs circling the fabric there.  

    ‘You wanna dance?’ he asks, and you nod, and smile, and let him walk you back until you’re mixed in with the others again. There’s no point in asking him any more questions. The message was clear, you didn’t know the guy, and you wouldn’t get chance to any time soon. It’s easier to ignore when you don’t have the whole picture.

    ‘Lucky,’ you say, as the band slows into a gentler song, ‘your favourite, baby.’ 

    He rolls his eyes. ‘I can dance to this,’ he insists, already defensive. ‘Mira.’ 

    Every time you go out, he refuses to dance to anything slow, anything you’d consider romantic. Says it doesn’t suit him, but you know it’s more to do with his ego than anything else.

    ‘I just prefer—‘

    ‘Something faster.’ You stop him with a kiss, sweet and short. ‘I know.’ 

    You meet his gaze with a smile, then, you drop it down his features, dwelling on the cushion of his lips, the bob of his Adam’s apple, the broad base of his throat. The chains he’s wearing are tangled, gold looping over gold. It looks like one necklace rather than three. Pobrecito. If he knew, he’d be in front of the mirror fixing them, so you set to work yourself, fingers grazing the fine hair on his chest. 

    ‘Thank-you.’

    You shake it away, lips pursed.

    He sighs, watching your face. ‘Say it. I know you’re thinking it.’

    ‘Say what?’ You lay the jewellery flat. ‘I can’t say anything when tu novio is involved. Es negocios, no?’

    His head tilts, weight shifting to one leg. You’ve both forgotten you’re supposed to be dancing. 

    ‘You want to do this here, mami?’ he asks, staring over the rim of his glasses. ‘Podemos, no me importa.’ He shrugs once, unbothered, of course, joking as long as you are. 

    ‘God,’ you tug at the open neck of his shirt, ‘would you relax, Kitty? ‘ You smirk. 'I know I have to share.’ 

    He leans in to kiss you, his hands coming up to your face. The rings he wears are cold against your cheeks; you hadn’t realised how warm you were, how hot the alcohol has left your skin. The cool pressure of him holding you is a relief you relax into.

    ‘You don’t have to share anything,’ he says, following it with another kiss. Longer, filthier, enough of an action to make you consider laying him down in the middle of the fucking room. And then he pulls back, teeth catching your lip. 

    ‘Okay,’ you tell him, eyes closed still, ‘no sharing.’

    You can hear the primped confidence in his words, the cloying smile. ‘You want to go home, then?’

    ‘No,’ you look at him, ‘but maybe we should go freshen you up.’

    He frowns. 'Qué? I look good.’ 

    You take his wrist, turning it to show him the back of his palm and the red that sits there. He’d made an attempt at least, the blood across his knuckles is streaked and drying, spread thin with his efforts. Probably wiped hastily on some poor coat in the cloakroom. 

    ‘I’ll help,’ you say, moving to step around him, fingers firmly on his arm.

    ‘Why?’ His face flashes with confusion, then disappointment. ‘It’s nothing. Baby—‘

    You cut him off with an exaggerated scoff. ‘Arturo, do I really have to beg you to finish what you started?’

    You wait. He pouts. 

    ‘I’ll help,’ you repeat slowly, ‘in the bathroom. Alone.’

    Then his brows shoot up, and his shoulder’s square, chest out and fighting against the few buttons he’s actually done up. Finally, he gets it. 

    He comes willingly then, following in tow as you cross the room. You could go home, but he’d promised you a party, and then an after-party to that party, which you still plan on enjoying, so, you’re being creative. Getting everything you want and then some.  

    ‘Begging would be good though,’ he says from behind, acting blasé about it. ‘If that’s still an option.’

    You throw him a knowing smile. ‘That’s more your style, chulo.'

    #kitty paez x reader #kitty x reader #narcos mexico imagine #narcos mexico#kitty paez #lets get INNNNNNNTO it #eyes emoji
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  • aemiliu
    22.05.2022 - 17 hours ago

    🔥 sits ahmya here

    are they attractive? / accepting.

    --- " W-Well, of course I find Ahmya attractive! She's a very beautiful, lovely...i-intelligent... " Heart began to RACE with wild abandon as thoughts soon became FLOODED with the woman in question ; Emily needing to fan her bright - red cheeks in a vain attempt to cool herself down. " S-She's...She's very attractive. "

    /// @algizkali

    #algizkali #:BIG EYE EMOJI: MHMMMM #// SCRIPTURE ; ( ANSWERED ) // #// IC ; ( AUTHOR SPEAKS ) //
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  • leilavinodraws
    22.05.2022 - 17 hours ago
    #[ music rec ] #[ not only a dancefloor bop but also... the lyrics... eyes emoji ]
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  • frenziedspirits
    22.05.2022 - 19 hours ago

    I want to finish my Dwake fic but my writing has changed since I wrote that which is like of course it has, I literally wrote an entire 21k word fic since I last wrote it but oh my gooood like SHLKSJDHLSKJDH IDK MAN I’M LIKE ??? ABOUT IT.

    #personal #I think I'm gonna use the twist ending I thought of though eyes emoji
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  • cosplaydarling
    22.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    ♥ + 🤫

    Mystery Shipping / Accepting !!

           WE WOULD LIKE TO KNOW THE MYSTERY ADMIRER —

    #anonymous #ଘʕ੭·͡ᴥ·ʔ ੭ —『 OOC 』 #ଘʕ੭·͡ᴥ·ʔ ੭ —『 ASK 』 #EYES EMOJI
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  • medicatedmedium
    22.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    Maggie is either demisexual, or asexual and neutral on the matter of sex; like she’ll do it, and probably enjoys it, but it’s really not something that’s on her mind.

    #death surrounds her (about maggie) #headcanon #//i can't actually decide #and it's not like she's currently got any relationship prospects #unless *eyes emoji*
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  • night-divining
    22.05.2022 - 1 day ago

    The whole gang is here?!?!

    #eye emoji #;;m. Re-Destro #;;s. BNHA #;;dash com
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