ema" @emadazi78 - Tumblr Blog

Fuck. Everyone. (Except you)

switchingdesires

So, would you rather have rights and dignity or be bullied in just the right way that gets your panties wet? ✨

Obscure art time 🧡

#anthotype #19th century photography #my hands are yellow now lol

soluksuret

dykedysphemism

edging my sweet girl because i want her to always cum as hard as she deserves.

longmoose03

Edging my sweet girl because I want to watch her brain break for me while she desperately tries to find friction and begs for one more touch.

The most exciting part of having multiple co-existing conditions is getting to play "Is This Normal For Me, Or Should I Be Seeking Emergency Medical Attention"

#hotgirlsarechronicallyill #chronic illness #i havent been able to feel my fingers for roughly 16hours #send help

beautifulxtragedyxx-deactivated

hotair1

INTER STING INTRODUCTION TO A WONDERFUL LIFESTYLE FOR THIS PRETTY ITEM ……

professor--green

Leaving her there for later and know she will stay.

dearrosehearts

hold me gently, like I'm something precious, made of glass or porcelain𓏧 like even the gentlest of movements could shatter me. tell me how you treasure me so, cradle my face and wipe away my tears. teach me how to feel loved in your embrace.

darkpagesworld

lost-in-the-wandering-pines

corruptedbyhim

I clipped an angel's wings with kitchen shears and she thanked me for it.

I'd stand in the yard squinting at a flicker of something bright, fading away, dissolving into blue. She'd been up there so long, all that empty sky between us, but from down here she was barely anything. So I started talking about the ground. To bring her closer. How warm it was. How things grew here, rising up from the dirt. How there was a bed waiting, and a window where the light came in sideways in the mornings and made everything gold.

She came down from there eventually. Folded her wings and sat in my lap as I watched her feel gravity for the first time. The gentle pull of everything toward everything else. Being wanted by the whole world at once. I held one of her wings, fragile and impossibly soft, and reached for the scissors. As I cut, the feathers drifted to the floor, and by the time they landed they were already just ordinary things.

She’s still finding her balance without the weight of them. Sometimes I even catch her leaning on the window as the sky does something with the light, and I see her shoulders shift where they used to be. But how could she leave when this ground is so warm and I’m so close and the sky was always too much of everything and never enough of anyone.