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THEY COULD DO THAT TO ME ANY DAY AND I WOULD EVEN PAY THEM
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Bobby: What’s your blood type? Buck: How would I know? Bobby: How would you not! Buck: Who am I, Karl Landsteiner, discoverer of blood groups? Bobby: You don’t know your own blood type, BUT YOU KNOW WHO DISCOVERED THEM?!
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Nicholas Alexander Chavez Monsters: The Lyle and Erik Menendez Story (4k)
If you like the content, follow me on TWITTER as well <3
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so I got into grad school today with my shitty 2.8 gpa and the moral of the story is reblog those good luck posts for the love of god
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Repeat after me: southdownscottagesouthdownscottagesouthd-
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If I had a nickel for all the times I have been adoring a character from a show on prime who is a depressed fallen angel obsessed with ducks I would have 2 nickels which isn't a lot but wtf how did that happen twice


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obsessed with how butcher’s place in the boys went from the literal leader of the group to hughie’s insane little psychopath boyfriend he does drugs with that we tolerate because hughie likes him too much
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bro.
#satosugu#getogojo#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#incorrect jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru#getou suguru#i don't need therapy i promise#im okay i just need some distraction#:)#stsgcrack#jjk crack#jjk text posts#text post meme#*
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call geto ru. he hates it <3
𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐄𝐆𝐄 | 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔.
tags: college au!, suggestive comments, i characterized him how i wanted to idc
notes: in that case i’ll call him that just to make him mad <3
“don’t call me that,” geto huffs quietly, rolling his eyes as you snort from your spot on his chest. the television is simply background music at this point, and you don’t think either of you has paid attention in the last fifteen minutes to the movie playing—but you think you have other things you’re rather be watching right now. like the pout that’s slowly tugging at geto’s lips.
“what’s wrong with it?” you raise a brow, eyes laced with amusement as he grunts.
“sounds stupid,” he mutters quietly.
“i think it’s cute,” you insist, “a cute little nickname for my cute little boyfriend.” you lean up to peck his jaw with a giggle, and even despite the clear unhappiness sprawled across his features, he tightens his arm around your waist.
“i am not little,” he says firmly, and he almost sounds insulted that you’d make such an untrue claim, “i think i’ve shown you that more than once.”
“okay, maybe not little,” you hum in agreement, “but you’re definitely cute.”
at first glance, geto is not cute—he’s trouble. he’s got piercings lining his ears and tattoos littering his arms, and on most days, despite your incessant protests, he’s got a cigarette between his lips. he speeds when he drives and skips class when he wants and picks fights when he shouldn’t. he’s bad news if you’ve ever seen it, but all things considered, you think he’s rather beautiful.
there’s beauty in the way geto isn’t a perfect picture, in the way he isn’t painted with careful brush strokes through deliberate thought. he’s shattered glass, each piece picked up and laid out until he’s built himself to be a mosaic of colors that leave you awestruck—and, when he’s lounging in gray sweats and a faded pacman t-shirt, you think there’s an air of innocence to him that no one else but you gets to witness. and it’s adorable, and you think you should remind him—even if he’s not the biggest fan of said reminder.
“don’t call me that stupid nick—”
“but it’s so cute,” you pout, “and suguru is long. ru is nice and short.”
“it’s so fucking dumb.”
“aw, but i love you, ru,” you emphasize the last part as you giggle loudly, leaning up to plant a wet kiss on his cheek. he pauses, turns his face to glare at you harshly—though it’s never really harsh if it’s at you—and scoffs, turning his attention back to the movie.
he doesn’t even know what’s happening anymore, not when he’s missed everything in the last twenty minutes, but he pretends to be deeply transfixed as you poke his chest repeatedly.
“you have to say it back,” you protest, whining when he doesn’t spare you a glance. “ru, you have to say it back when i—”
Keep reading
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You can identify a fake redneck by their passionate support of “blue lives matter.” Real rednecks have been in at least one physical fight and/or high-speed chase with police officers and would do it again
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