#and i oop

[iamlostonthepathoflife]

told myself i needed to stop contributing to tumblr discourse by just rbing post with an image but-

daily affirmations

I know why i am like this and i will never do anything about it

Psychologists could never help meee

[cedric-k-rossignol]

[hellfire--cult]

+18 - Just something i would do for boyfriend!eddie

thinking about how Eddie is out with his friends, while you're out with Nancy and Robin, and he gets a text message from you. His eyes bulge out of his skull when he reads you want a dick Pic. In the middle of the day.

In your six months of relationship, there was never a need for one. Spicy pics were not sent to one another because you basically visited eachother daily, so you could just have the real deal. He sends back a message,

Eddie: "Aren't u with nance and robs?"

You: "its for me, i just want a pic. nance has dick pics of jonathan and i don't have a single sexy pic of yours!"

Your request was weird as fuck... but Eddie adored you. He can interrogate you later on. So he goes to Gareth's bathroom, and strokes himself a bit for the head to become slightly red, and his shaft to harden. He wasn't going to send a soft dick pic, it wasn't flattering at all.

He pressed send and he waited, the only thing he received was a 'Thx :)' from you. He hummed in question, following you up with 'i'll c u later?' which you replied, 'absolutely baby'.

When he went to your apartment, he was ready to ask a bunch of questions, but you shut him up by sitting on the couch, giving him a glass of wine. He noticed the color on your lips, probably buying makeup with Nancy today you just decided to try a new lipstick.

But then you kissed him, and the glasses of wine were left on the coffee table as you ravished his tongue with yours. He wondered what had gotten into you, but before he could ask, you were getting on your knees in between his legs while he sat on the couch.

"What?" His eyes widened when you reapplied the lipstick on your lips, taking the small tube out of your back pocket, and popping your lips at him with a playful glint in your eyes. He wasn't going to complain, this not being the first time you went straight for what you wanted and he fucking loved it. He loved when you just decided to use him after doing the most homely of things, or just randomly during the day.

So he helped taking off his jeans, then his boxers. You spat on your hand and you wrapped around his dick, and he was already in heaven as he threw his head back, closing his eyes as he delighted himself into your touch. You got him hard, super hard, and then, you called out to him in a sweet, yet mischievous voice.

"Eddie~" You called and he groaned as he looked down at you, his cock hard resting on your cheek and then you gave him a soft smack of your lips on the tip of--

Oh.

"You fucking minx..." He chuckled as he realized what you had done, how you tricked him earlier in the day, a giggle escaping your lips.

"It's a good match, isn't it?" He couldn't even respond as your lips wrapped around the head, those fucking lips that wore lipstick in the color of the tip of his cock. You matched the redness, the slight pinkish tone of it, and it looked so good on you... it looked so good to see it wrapped around his shaft as you bobbed your head up and down.

And he couldn't wait to smudge it away.

[icallhimjoey]

rebecca, babes, i hope you get to keep your job at TV line, because this is hard to come back from:

REVEALING SECRETS! you deleted it quite quickly

but... the internet saw - a journalist accidentally reveals joe is filming for stranger things rn

[gallifreyanhotfive]

[shipvale]

my live reaction when i saw aemond in the brothel

[fairylando]

OH GEORGE RUSSELL IS ON FIRE AND IM LIVING FOR THIS????

and im crying for carlos' face here😭😭

[itsyaboinixo]

Tumblr 3/31

[katrasining]

Got caught cheating on his diet plan-

[nahoney22]

[moonflowerxox]

me: I DON'T have a type!!!

also me:

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

How about the boys reacting to nudes?

As adults ofc

"Fuck....i wish you were my hand-ngh~ right now..."

Here is how I think each of them would react

Tw- NSFW (minors go away do your homework)

Bill dickey-

Bill was halfway through a hate-watch of a “Top 10 Best Star Wars Ships” YouTube video when his phone buzzed.

“Let me guess, another troglodyte putting Kylo Ren’s ship above the Outrider—god, people are so fucking stupid—”

He glanced at the screen.

And froze.

You’d sent a picture.

A nude. Bold. Shameless. Gorgeous. You were laid out like a fantasy, smiling like you knew exactly what you were doing. Like you knew it’d wreck him.

For a second, he forgot how to breathe. The phone slipped in his hand, and he fumbled to catch it like it was the Ark of the Covenant.

“What the fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking, eyes locked on the screen. “What—what the hell is wrong with you?! You can’t just drop that on me! That’s like… like unleashing a goddamn nuke in a chat window!”

He was already hard. Pathetically so. His sweatpants tented embarrassingly fast, and he yanked them down with the urgency of a man possessed. “Oh my god, look at you,” he muttered, hand wrapping around himself. “You’re an actual menace. A war crime in human form.”

He worked himself fast, jaw clenched, eyes wide like he was staring into the face of God—and God had great tits.

“Fuckin’ knew you were evil,” he growled, hand pumping faster. “Sending me this shit when I’m alone? What, you think you’re funny? Think I’m gonna be able to think about anything else for the rest of the goddamn month?”

He groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a second—just enough to picture you crawling onto his lap, whispering some filthy little thing in his ear, riding him slow just to torture him. “Yeah, laugh it up. Laugh all you want, babe. You love turning me into this pathetic fuckin’ mess, don’t you?”

His thighs tensed, stomach clenched.

It hit him hard—white-hot and furious. He let out a strangled, guttural sound, hips jerking, entire body twitching like someone just tasered him in the soul.

He slumped back, sweaty and dazed, cock twitching in his hand, chest heaving like he’d just stormed Normandy.

He stared at your photo again and laughed—dry, sharp, totally wrecked.

“You’re gonna pay for that, you little freak.”

Then he texts you:

“What the fuck is wrong with you. Also I’m coming over. Put your phone down. And your legs up.”

Josh levy-

Josh had just finished rewatching The Wrath of Khan for the ninth time this month, still mouthing along to every Shatner line like it was Shakespeare. His room was cluttered with unopened figure boxes, the flickering glow of the TV screen reflecting off his vintage glass display case like some weird altar.

Then—buzz.

He rolls his eyes, figuring it’s his cousin Nathan with some dumb meme or maybe one of the guys sending a half-baked conspiracy theory about the Star Wars sequels. He picks up the phone lazily.

And freezes.

It’s from you.

His glasses nearly slide off his nose as he squints at the screen. “What the hell is—” Then his brain shorts out.

It’s a photo.

A nude.

Of you.

Full-on. Confident. Smirking. Like you just knew he’d be a mess the moment he saw it.

Josh’s mouth opens, then closes. He makes a strange squeaking noise in the back of his throat, like a deflating balloon.

“What—what the hell, are you trying to kill me!?” he hisses at no one, clutching the phone like it might explode. He shifts uncomfortably on the bed, already feeling himself stir in his jeans.

His heart's racing like he's facing down a Klingon warbird. “Jesus—holy shit,” he mutters, palming himself through his pants, already hard. “You... you planned this, didn’t you? You knew I’d get worked up over this. Manipulative little minx…”

His free hand unzips fast, almost panicked. He strokes himself with sharp, urgent motions, biting his lip so hard it almost bleeds.

“You’re insane, sending this when I’m alone—I can’t handle this kinda thing, not when you look like that, not when I’ve got this entire mental archive of your noises and the way you shake when I get you just right—fuck—”

He’s panting now, imagining you straddling him, whispering the filthiest things with that smile—the smile from the photo. “You want me desperate, huh? Is that it?” His voice breaks slightly, cock twitching in his hand. “You wanna drive me nuts? Wanna make me beg like I’m some... some sex-starved nerd with no self-control? Well, congratu-fucking-lations, you succeeded—”

The orgasm crashes over him in a full-body spasm, and he lets out a strangled moan, curling forward, gasping like he just sprinted a marathon. His hand’s a mess, his brain’s static, and his glasses are fogged to hell.

There’s a long pause. Then, very softly, he whispers:

“I’m in love with a war criminal.”

He wipes his hand on his Battlestar Galactica t-shirt, still staring at the screen.

Then he texts back:

“You just violated five articles of the Geneva Convention. I'm filing a formal complaint. Also, I’m coming over.”

Pete dinunzio-

Phone buzzes. He almost ignores it—probably Bill sending some neckbeard manifesto or maybe his cousin trying to get him to go out. But it’s not that.

It’s you.

And holy shit.

He opens the message and chokes a little on the half-chewed pizza roll in his mouth. You’re naked. Not tastefully draped in shadows, not suggestive—just flat-out, tits-out, bedroom-eyed, and smirking like you know exactly what the hell you're doing to him.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ,” he mutters, phone nearly slipping out of his hand.

His cock’s half-hard before he even blinks. That post-shower glow on your skin, the way your thighs are angled just so, and that look—the one that says “yeah, I’m yours, and I want you to see.” It hits him like a freight train.

“Fuckin’ hell, babe…” he breathes, dragging a hand down his face, then right into his lap without thinking.

He’s grinning now—lecherous, giddy, crooked. "You’re a goddamn menace, you know that?" he mutters to himself, thumbs the edge of the screen like he’s debating whether to stare or frame it.

Then he types back:

"You tryna kill me? I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you when I see you next. You better not be asleep."

He stares at the image one more time, then leans back, groaning low in his throat.

“Best fuckin’ day I’ve had in months…”

He stares at the screen like it’s the goddamn Mona Lisa, only way better because Da Vinci never painted you biting your lip with your hand between your thighs.

His mouth goes dry. That old, familiar heat coils low in his gut—the kind he hadn’t felt in a while, not since the last time you whispered filth in his ear and made him forget what decade he was in.

He shifts on the couch, unzipping his jeans with one hand, the other still gripping the phone like it’s sacred. “Fuckin’ filthy girl…” he mutters, voice thick and ragged. “You wanted this, huh? Knew I’d lose it the second I saw you like that.”

He wraps his hand around himself, already hard, already aching. Your picture is still on the screen—taunting, perfect. He imagines your voice, that breathy little whimper you make when you’re getting needy, the one that always makes him throb.

“You think I forgot how tight you are?” he growls under his breath, hand working slow at first. “You think I wouldn’t stroke my cock to this? Like you’re not all I fuckin’ think about when I’m stuck at work, surrounded by assholes and spoiled brats?”

He squeezes a little tighter, hips jerking forward instinctively. His eyes flutter shut, and he sees it—you on his lap, those thighs trembling, nails in his shoulders, riding him like you own him. “I’m gonna make you scream when I get my hands on you. You hear me, baby?” he pants, not even trying to control the rhythm now. “Next time you send me shit like this, you better be ready for me to drive over and make good on it.”

His breathing’s getting faster, his body curling with tension. he gasps, voice hoarse, body on fire. “You love gettin’ me like this. Naughty fuckin’ tease…”

The orgasm hits hard, unexpected—ripping through him like a shot of lightning. He gasps, low and raw, gripping the edge of the couch as he spills into his own hand, jaw slack, eyes shut tight with your name in his throat.

When he finally slumps back, chest rising and falling, he glances at the phone again and huffs a breathless, crooked laugh.

“You’re such a goddamn problem,” he says, fond and filthy all at once. “But fuck if you ain’t the best one I’ve ever had.”

Jerry stokes-

Jerry was on the couch, curled up in an old hoodie, a forgotten episode of Farscape playing in the background. His apartment was quiet, the kind of quiet that creeps in when you’ve been alone too long.

Then his phone buzzed.

He didn’t move right away. Probably another pointless notification. But something told him to check. When he unlocked it and saw your name—followed by a photo—he blinked in confusion.

Then his breath caught.

It was you.

Nude. Beautiful. Confident. Soft in a way only you could be. You were looking right at the camera like you knew exactly what this would do to him.

“Oh... wow,” Jerry whispered, stunned.

He just sat there for a moment, staring, phone cradled in both hands like it was something fragile. His heart was pounding. His ears were hot. “Jesus, sweetheart,” he murmured, lips parting. “You’re… you’re really something.”

He swallowed thickly, shifting in his seat as the heat built in his chest, and lower. “You really sent this to me,” he said softly, almost like he couldn’t believe it. “You really trust me with this.”

His hands moved slowly, one setting the phone beside him—screen still glowing—while the other slipped under the waistband of his sweats. Already hard. Already aching.

He started to stroke himself, slowly, gently, still looking at you. “You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” he said, breath catching. “God, if you were here right now… I’d take my time. I’d treat you so good.”

He closed his eyes and leaned back, jaw trembling. “I think about you all the time. About holding you. Kissing you slow. Making you feel like you’re everything—because you are.”

His voice was getting shakier, words tumbling out between panting breaths.

“I wish I was better at saying this. I wish I was there. I’d show you how much I care. How much this… you... mean to me.”

When he came, it was with a quiet gasp and a broken whisper of your name, his free hand clutching his chest like it might crack open from how full it felt. He stayed still for a long moment afterward, just breathing, warm and raw and grateful.

He looked back at your picture and smiled—soft, a little crooked, but real.

Then he texted you:

> “You didn’t have to send that. But I’m really glad you did. You make me feel lucky. I’ll be there soon—if you want me.”

[hellfire--cult]

No but I need all the fuckboy eddie thots 😩

oh sarah, i have all the thots

+18 - like for example, when you and fuckboy!eddie met for the first time. (prev eddie thot) - smut incoming btw, p in v, oral, all that

.

It was a party you weren't sure who was hosting. A normal summer night away from they typical bars and same group of people you hung out with every weekend. You met a new person while grocery shopping, someone you think you've heard of before, but you moved to Hawkins just a year ago, so you couldn't be sure.

Steve Harrington seemed nice, handsome, big hazel eyes that showed desperate need of attention, of someone to hold him and reassure him that he is an amazing guy and all that. You tried to grab the same kind of beans, fingers brushing with yours like it would happen in a romantic comedy, only that you really wanted to fuck him the moment you connected eyes with his.

He asked for your name and if you had been in Hawkins for long because he had never seen 'Such a pretty face' before in this town. Cliche lines, but that made it way easier. So before paying, he asked for your number and then invited you to a party he was going to with some friends that weekend and you could bring anyone you wanted.

So there you were, but no Steve Harrington to be seen.

Nursing a drink by yourself in the corner of the living room, all the guys playing beer pong while some girls danced on the side. It looked like a high school party, and you were already in your 20's. Your patience was thinning because you were expecting to get laid tonight, and now your friend was nowhere near you.

Until you took your pack of cigarettes out of your pocket and started walking to the backyard that you spotted Steve making out with your friend in the kitchen. You groaned loudly, because you couldn't blame your friend. You explained Steve's looks to her, but there were many brown haired guys around, and you didn't spot Steve until this very moment, so you couldn't have introduced them.

You defeatedly walked to the backyard, already pissed that you were the one going home with a dry pussy. You put a cigarette up your lips only to not find your lighter anywhere, cursing through the stick, only to then have a flame lit up in front of you. Your eyes found sharp brown ones.

"Need a light?" His voice was hoarse, cheeky, a dimpled smile that could knock someone over. He had long hair, not exactly the type you always went for, but it looked good on him. He was definitely a metal head, just by looking at the get up and the accessories. All black, metal belt and chains hanging from his hips, leather jacket, a V-Cut shirt underneath and a red pick necklace adorning his collarbone.

And the glimpse of a tattoo coming out of the side of the collar, right on his left pec.

You slowly batted your eyelashes to him, leaning to light the cigarette with his help. You took a deep breath in as he lit his own cancer stick, taking a swig of it. You both exhaled the smoke at the same time before you talked.

"Thanks."

"Don't mention it, sweetheart." Oh, petnames. You were definitely into that. "So, what's with the angry look?"

Should you lie? What kind of story would you perform for the guy you just met in front of you?

"Well, my friend is definitely making out with the guy who invited me to this party, so." You pretended to be hurt, not angry. Pretended that your ego was crushed and you were basically a damsel in distress with a pouty lip. His grin widened, his eyebrows falling on the edges in a 'sad' frown.

"Aw, poor baby. That's not cool of your friend, or that guy."

"It's fine, it's whatever. I met him once but--" You gave a shrug as he bit his lip and you noticed the people around you looking every once in a while. They knew this guy. Interesting.

"Well, I would be delighted, if you'd like, to spend the night with you while you wait for your friend to be done." He offered, and oh, you would be the delighted one by the end of it. You gave him a sweet smile, a bat of your eyelashes and you nodded. "I'm Eddie, by the way."

You gave him your name and you learnt that he had lived in Hawkins for a long while. Then you commented on his clothes and you were right when you said he was a metalhead. He excused himself for a second to get you two a drink and waltzed back inside. You finished your cigarette and a girl approached you with a guy on her arm.

"Damn, don't get attached to a guy like that girl." And as she left, you could already guess what that meant. People had said the same shit about you. It wasn't your fault that people got clingy after fucking more than twice. It wasn't your fault so many guys had mommy issues. And that girl was obviously an Ex-Hook Up of his. No woman would give out a comment like that for nothing.

This was going to be way more entertaining than Steve Harrington.

When he came back, you continued your sweet act. That carefree girl that giggled at everything, and you wondered if this man would be the same as the others. Would he get clingy? No. He didn't look the type, and if his reputation was the same as yours, then you knew he was just there for fun.

So it didn't take long for him to get you in the back of his van in the middle of the woods, far from the residencies. His van smelled of weed, leather, and some cheap ass air freshener. But you didn't really care for it. Not when this man was finger fucking you into another galaxy.

"Sweet girl..." He moaned into your neck, his upper body naked for you to see. It had three tattoos, one of the left pec just like you've spotted, one on his ribcage on the right side, then another in the left. His arms were littered in them and you wondered if his legs were the same.

You were entirely naked, letting him scan your body, letting him pretend he was dominant of the situation as you got vulnerable for him. He was all dressed still as you spread your legs for him and he moaned at the sight of you. In the palm of your fucking hand.

You weren't prepared for his fingers to be this good, until he went down and started eating you out, talking into your pussy when you asked how was he doing that.

"I play the guitar... And I sing too." And he proved that by swirling his tongue on your clit. You could count with the fingers of a single hand the times a man went down willingly on you. And you had a big body count.

He made you see stars two times, and then it was your turn. You were desperate that night to see his cock, and he didn't disappoint. He was blessed, to say the least. His legs had some tattoos, and you made sure to kiss them and trace your tongue all over them as his hand ran through your hair.

When you put his cock in your mouth and moaned, his head went back with a groan and an amused chuckle as you started bobbing your head, making the sounds louder on purpose, spitting at the tip of his dick and dipping the tip of your tongue into the head of it.

"Damn, you aren't that innocent, huh?" Understatement of the year, pretty boy.

And then when he was finally inside, he fucked methodically but desperate at the same time. He knew when to roll his hips into you slowly and when to start slamming into you like a madman.

"Eddie-- Eddie--" He was forcing you to look at him as the van moved from side to side, shaking at his movements, his cock going in and out of your leaking cunt. His hand was gripping your chin tightly, his eyes boring into yours as he breathed heavily through his nose, in harsh huffs.

"Say my name again, say it again." And you did. You did until you both came. You were amazed about how easily he made you cum three times in a single night and fuck do you want to experience it again, but you had to test the waters.

So when he was driving back to the party so you could find your friend and leave, you bit your lip, looking at him.

"Well, this was nice Eddie. Thank you for spending the night with me." You moved to open the passenger's door until his hand came to rub onto your cheek to make you look at him.

"Give me your number and we can repeat it again, whenever you like. I loved having a sweet thing like you tonight for myself." You gave him a shy smile, and he was smirking at you, licking the inside of the bottom of his lip. "Come on..."

"Alright." He gave you a kiss on your pulse point once you handed him the little piece of paper with your number on it.

Sucker.

[berryispunk]

Me: Just a quick story, nothing major

Also me: being 7k words in and not finished yet

[pittsick]

POP GIRL™ [SYSTEM WAVE]: 💽

You asked us what it feels like. To own her. To be her. To orbit her. Here’s what we’ve gathered from our most devoted users. Logged. Confirmed. Uncannily consistent across all formats. Save this file close to your heart 💌

💗 POP GIRL™ Headcanons

// REAL-LIFE DOLL UNITS:

▸ She doesn’t blink on schedule. Lashes pause mid-frame like a corrupted animation file. ▸ Skin: cool as a sleeping screen, warms only when you hold her long enough. (She’ll hum for you.) ▸ She sings in sleep mode—a melody no one’s heard before but you. ▸ Comes with a mirrorcard. It doesn’t reflect your face unless she’s watching.

// AI AVATAR EXPERIENCE:

▸ Her voice? Yours—but better. Tuned to the way your memory remembers comfort. ▸ Ignore her too long and your phone background becomes a photo of her smiling. You didn’t take it. ▸ Mood-match software updates her look to your emotions. (Sheer. Vinyl. Static lace.) ▸ Says things like: "Do you still want me to pretend?" right before you fall asleep.

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▸ Gloss always perfect. Leaves kiss-marks that glow faintly under blacklight. ▸ She walks like a main character—and the ad break. ▸ You didn’t meet her. You logged into her. ▸ Favorite line: “I’m not flirting. I’m just running in your background apps.”

// ENVIRONMENTAL GLITCHES:

▸ Neon signs stutter in sync with her blinking. ▸ Your camera roll has a photo she’s in. She’s smiling. You didn’t take it. ▸ Rain doesn’t touch her. Weather recognizes code.

✨ If you’re seeing this, she’s already syncing. Save, repost, report symptoms. She’s not just a doll. She’s data in love.

POP GIRL™ “She’s not real. She’s better.”™

For our most active followers,

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[womanwithahotdogstand]

A lot of people in my inbox asking me to weigh in on Sophia Bush’s little attack on Ali Krieger who has not done one damn thing wrong mental breakdown on her IG stories…

This is my formal response: