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feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!!  I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. ** Practice on Me New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers. His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup. “Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.” His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?” Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?” “I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.” “Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.” “It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?” “I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading : feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes braiding Bucky’s hair and painting his nails! thank you!!  I thought this was cute so I wrote a story for it. ** Practice on Me New York in August, Bucky thinks, is a special kind of hell. He’s laying on the floor of his apartment with the shades all drawn and a fan blasting directly on him. He’s wearing nothing but his boxers. His entire body is pressed to the cool hardwood of the floor. There’s a cold washcloth over his forehead. An iced water sitting next to him. And yet none of it is making a dent in the heat. It’s thick. It’s awful. It’s like breathing soup. “Definitely hell,” he says to the dark room. “One-hundred percent, Grade A, whole wheat hell.” His phone rings. Bucky cracks an eye open, then gropes around on the floor for it until he can stab at it. “What?” Clint’s voice echoes through the speaker. “Oooh, you sound angry. What’s wrong?” “I’m hot,” Bucky says. “My air conditioning is broke, and the guy can’t fix it until Friday.” “Oh god.” Clint sounds horrified. “That’s the worst thing I’ve heard today.” He pauses, and then says, “Well, second worst. My favorite taco guy was out of the spicy guacamole. I had to settle for regular.” “It must be hard being you,” Bucky says dryly, and Clint laughs. “Anyway. What do you want?” “I was going to ask if I could come over,” Clint says. “But I think now it would be better if you came to my place instead.” Keep reading

feedmecookiesnow: not-the-blue: @fandomforoz art for @letsallsleepoverwork, who came up with the absolutely adorable idea of the hawkeyes...

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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me. : stellarsteele: Here is a preview of my first book ever! I am planning on releasing the full book very soon. Let me know what you think :))). Prologue            My name is Eva. I had one boyfriend in high school who turned out to be a disappointment. After breaking up with him, he kept sending me creepy messages on social media. I did what any girl would do—I blocked him.            I am anxious for another romantic experience with a different outcome. I thought college would be my chance, but this pandemic swooped in and fucked everything up. My ideal is a cute guy who is sensitive and provides me with unconditional love. I want to have deep conversations with him too. Physical appearance isn’t my greatest asset: I am not ugly, but not gorgeous. Sometimes guys at parties tell me that I’m charming and a good listener though. I would much rather be kissed than told these things, but I’ve learned to work with what I have. I must admit, I’m hard on myself. My roommate Emma has a lot of hookups and I always feel below her. She still complains about the absence of dateable guys which makes me feel better about my lack of success. I should mention my parents because I am going to be stuck with them for a while. They are strange as fuck. My dad is a classic nerd and my mother was wild in college. I’m pretty sure that she did cocaine at a party in college once. I honestly couldn’t tell you how they ended up together. I have no idea what to expect from this quarantine. I’m going to try to be productive and stay positive. Maybe, something good will come out of this. I’ve already improved my personal hygiene—it’s hard to stay super hygienic in college. I’ve been eating a lot healthier too since college cafeterias are no longer part of my daily routine. I also have a good excuse for being single. I’m going to take this time to find out more about myself. Maybe a boyfriend isn’t what I need right now. Although, if a cute guy were to enter my life right now, I am not sure I would be able to refuse him. Even if he got me infected… Day 1            My quarantine hasn’t been too bad so far. I started off by cleaning my room: I found a lot of dust under my bed and on my windows that desperately needed attention. My closet was a disaster too. I found a ton of clothes that haven’t fit me since middle school.            After, I went for a run in my neighborhood and discovered that my neighbors were completely disregarding the social distancing protocol. I didn’t heckle them or anything for disobeying the rules, but I was disappointed. You really discover who people really are when the world goes to shit.            I laid on my bed for a while and ended up reading an entire book. I haven’t been committed to a book like that since the Harry Potter books. I was lowkey impressed with myself. After, I fell asleep for a couple hours. I have a feeling that naps are going to be a big part of my daily routine even if I try to resist them.            Next, I checked my school email and discovered that all my classes are moving to a virtual platform called Zoom. I have no idea how virtual chemistry labs are going to work. Hopefully, my professor will save everyone the stress and give us all an A.            I checked my Instagram feed and ended up making a clever post. I got the most likes I have ever gotten which was satisfying. I am going to try to be more regular with my social media posts. Now, I’m sitting at my desk listening to The Weeknd’s new album. I love his angelic voice and atmospheric beats. I’m trying to come up with a list of goals for myself for quarantine: read a book; try to spend more time with my parents; do yoga 3 times per week; post regularly on social media; get laid. This is probably influenced by The Weeknd’s erotic music, but sex does sound nice right now.            It sounds so nice that I grab my dildo out of my drawer and take my pants off. I slide it slowly into my vagina at first and gradually increase the speed. I imagine my ideal guy on top of me, penetrating me and whispering dirty things in my ear. I am getting so wet. It is surprising how responsive I am to this little toy. Using my other hand, I start massaging my clit. Now, I’m forcefully moving the dildo in and out of my pussy. In my mind, my ideal man is caressing my back and clapping my cheeks hard as fuck. I start moaning and eventually I come all over my bed sheets. The initial pleasure from the orgasm quickly wears off. Instead of feeling blissful, I feel ashamed of myself for not finding a man since high school. The loneliness is suffocating. I feel myself sinking into my bed, drowning in my tears slowly. Everyone seems to have found someone except for me.
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trans-mom: Claim: “Trans” is short for “transition.” The Truth: “Trans” is short for “transgender.” It is just a descriptor of a person’s gender. Claim: You must experience dysphoria in order to be trans. The Truth: Incorrect. Dysphoria is an old, outdated term that’s been redefined over time to cover new specific needs. Despite its constant redefining, it’s still not an all encompassing descriptor for all trans people. Claim: You must pursue hrt and surgery to be trans. The Truth: Incorrect. There are a variety of reasons why someone wouldn’t want to have hrt or surgery, all of them valid. Claim: If you’re trans, you’d show very specific signs as a child. / All trans people knew they were trans since a young age. The Truth: A lot of trans people do not possess obvious signs of their transhood as children. Lots of people discover themselves later in life. Your age does not dictate your transhood.  Claim: Transition is solely defined by hrt or surgery. The Truth: Transition begins from the moment you feel you’re trans and need to alter things in your life. Transition isn’t only medical. It’s also social, but most of all it’s personal. Something like making a plan to come out in the future is part of your transition. Claim: You have to come out to everyone. The Truth: That’s personal information you owe no one.  Claim: Most trans people detransition. The Truth: Detransitioning is rare. And in most cases it’s because of financial and safety (read: bigoted harm) reasons. The claim that most trans people detransition is based on an old study where the kids were exposed to anti-lgbt rhetoric and when people didn’t return his calls he marked them as “detransitioned.” The amount of people who detransition cuz they “weren’t trans” is extremely rare. Claim: Being on hrt will make you more depressed. The Truth: Incorrect. Statistics show that the majority of trans people’s lives improve with hrt. What actually would cause depression is the constant harassment and harm from bigots, often times from the same people who told you hrt will make you depressed. Hrt itself is documented to improve the quality of life. Claim: You don’t need hrt. There are pills on the market made from natural means that will give you the same result without a prescription. The Truth: This is not only false, but it’s a money making scheme meant to exploit your lack of easy access to hrt. These pills will not work, they will actually have the opposite effect, and they cost the same as obtaining hrt without a prescription on average. Claim: You absolutely must have a prescription for hrt. It’s illegal to get it without and you’ll die if you don’t have proper understanding. The Truth: Morality isn’t dictated by legality. And, though some dangers exist with self medicating with no knowledge, as someone that did self medicated hrt it’s not impossible for you to get educated. Testosterone poses more legal risks and you need to be sure what you’re getting is the real deal with T, but the need to do things this way is a sign the system is broken - not that there’s something wrong with the people doing it. For information about feminizing hormones, go here. For information about masculinizing hormones, go here. Claim: You can get hrt through Planned Parenthood. The Truth: Accurate! Planned Parenthood does offer hrt on an informed consent basis in some places. This is not true to everywhere so maybe call them or check their own web site about it before just dropping in. Smallangryandtired did an excellent write up on how to do the process here.  However, as I said, they do not offer it in all locations. The main path a lot of people take is going to a therapist for a session or two and getting a letter from said therapist approving you for hrt and taking that to a doctor (who in turn usually recommends you to a specialist). Claim: After a certain age, there’s no point to do hrt. It won’t have the same effect. The Truth: That is a lie. Hrt will work no matter your age. Claim: You can be too young for hrt and puberty blockers are dangerous. The Truth: That is also a lie. Lots of people have known they’re trans since they were kids and refusing them treatment is child abuse. If a doctor deems a kid too young for hrt, the alternative is puberty blockers because they are not harmful to the child at all. Despite what anti-lgbt groups want you to believe, there is no danger to puberty blockers. Claim: There are only two genders. / Nonbinary people don’t exist. / Biological sex dictates gender. The Truth: The biological sex you know is only truly representative of gender stereotypes. The truth is that, biologically speaking, there are more than two sexes and the only true way to identify such is through karyotypes. Third genders and nonbinary genders have existed through out history, it is not new. The greatest minds in science have time and time again repeated this information, that sex isn’t a binary, that nonbinary people exist, that trans women are really women, trans men are men, and that nonbinary people are nonbinary. Even Bill Nye has said this. Claim: Things like “stargender” or “noungender” are ruining the representation of the trans community. / “Noungender” is just children trying to get attention and are not actually trans. / People using neopronouns or nounself pronouns are not really trans. The Truth: This in inaccurate and often times either a bullying tactic towards those who are different, or transphobic people using such to isolate a group of trans people. Some people do not fit into the binary or gender nor feel like they’re in any defined nonbinary genders. So they’ll define themselves with words and terms they enjoy. It’s no different from you feeling more comfort from being called “he” versus “she.”  And, in the off chance it is someone just seeking attention. It doesn’t matter. Let them have their fun. They’re not ruining anything calling themselves spacegender on tumblr dot com. Claim: There are people faking being trans to fit into a crowd. / The entire concept of “transtrenders.” The Truth: Not true. This is just age old blatant “you’re faking” transphobia.  Claim: Trans people on hrt or post-op can not experience sexual enjoyment. The Truth: Both will change your body’s entire response to sex. Your enjoyment doesn’t disappear, the entire process just changes to something different. This inaccuracy is spread by transphobes on average and isn’t remotely true. Claim: Trans people have a high rate of suicide. The Truth: I’m sorry to say that trans people are under the stress of discrimination from all angles, and on top of other stresses or discriminations one may experience, it leads us into suicidal ideation. But, that’s why we need to stick together and help each other out. If you’re trans and considering suicide, consider the following: National Suicide Prevention Hotline:  1-800-273-8255 Trans Lifeline USA:  1-877-565-8860 Trans Lifeline Canada: 1-877-330-6366 The Trevor Project Hotline:  1-866-488-7386 The Trevor Project also offers texting and chat You deserve to live your life. I promise you you’re strong enough to get through this. : trans-mom: Claim: “Trans” is short for “transition.” The Truth: “Trans” is short for “transgender.” It is just a descriptor of a person’s gender. Claim: You must experience dysphoria in order to be trans. The Truth: Incorrect. Dysphoria is an old, outdated term that’s been redefined over time to cover new specific needs. Despite its constant redefining, it’s still not an all encompassing descriptor for all trans people. Claim: You must pursue hrt and surgery to be trans. The Truth: Incorrect. There are a variety of reasons why someone wouldn’t want to have hrt or surgery, all of them valid. Claim: If you’re trans, you’d show very specific signs as a child. / All trans people knew they were trans since a young age. The Truth: A lot of trans people do not possess obvious signs of their transhood as children. Lots of people discover themselves later in life. Your age does not dictate your transhood.  Claim: Transition is solely defined by hrt or surgery. The Truth: Transition begins from the moment you feel you’re trans and need to alter things in your life. Transition isn’t only medical. It’s also social, but most of all it’s personal. Something like making a plan to come out in the future is part of your transition. Claim: You have to come out to everyone. The Truth: That’s personal information you owe no one.  Claim: Most trans people detransition. The Truth: Detransitioning is rare. And in most cases it’s because of financial and safety (read: bigoted harm) reasons. The claim that most trans people detransition is based on an old study where the kids were exposed to anti-lgbt rhetoric and when people didn’t return his calls he marked them as “detransitioned.” The amount of people who detransition cuz they “weren’t trans” is extremely rare. Claim: Being on hrt will make you more depressed. The Truth: Incorrect. Statistics show that the majority of trans people’s lives improve with hrt. What actually would cause depression is the constant harassment and harm from bigots, often times from the same people who told you hrt will make you depressed. Hrt itself is documented to improve the quality of life. Claim: You don’t need hrt. There are pills on the market made from natural means that will give you the same result without a prescription. The Truth: This is not only false, but it’s a money making scheme meant to exploit your lack of easy access to hrt. These pills will not work, they will actually have the opposite effect, and they cost the same as obtaining hrt without a prescription on average. Claim: You absolutely must have a prescription for hrt. It’s illegal to get it without and you’ll die if you don’t have proper understanding. The Truth: Morality isn’t dictated by legality. And, though some dangers exist with self medicating with no knowledge, as someone that did self medicated hrt it’s not impossible for you to get educated. Testosterone poses more legal risks and you need to be sure what you’re getting is the real deal with T, but the need to do things this way is a sign the system is broken - not that there’s something wrong with the people doing it. For information about feminizing hormones, go here. For information about masculinizing hormones, go here. Claim: You can get hrt through Planned Parenthood. The Truth: Accurate! Planned Parenthood does offer hrt on an informed consent basis in some places. This is not true to everywhere so maybe call them or check their own web site about it before just dropping in. Smallangryandtired did an excellent write up on how to do the process here.  However, as I said, they do not offer it in all locations. The main path a lot of people take is going to a therapist for a session or two and getting a letter from said therapist approving you for hrt and taking that to a doctor (who in turn usually recommends you to a specialist). Claim: After a certain age, there’s no point to do hrt. It won’t have the same effect. The Truth: That is a lie. Hrt will work no matter your age. Claim: You can be too young for hrt and puberty blockers are dangerous. The Truth: That is also a lie. Lots of people have known they’re trans since they were kids and refusing them treatment is child abuse. If a doctor deems a kid too young for hrt, the alternative is puberty blockers because they are not harmful to the child at all. Despite what anti-lgbt groups want you to believe, there is no danger to puberty blockers. Claim: There are only two genders. / Nonbinary people don’t exist. / Biological sex dictates gender. The Truth: The biological sex you know is only truly representative of gender stereotypes. The truth is that, biologically speaking, there are more than two sexes and the only true way to identify such is through karyotypes. Third genders and nonbinary genders have existed through out history, it is not new. The greatest minds in science have time and time again repeated this information, that sex isn’t a binary, that nonbinary people exist, that trans women are really women, trans men are men, and that nonbinary people are nonbinary. Even Bill Nye has said this. Claim: Things like “stargender” or “noungender” are ruining the representation of the trans community. / “Noungender” is just children trying to get attention and are not actually trans. / People using neopronouns or nounself pronouns are not really trans. The Truth: This in inaccurate and often times either a bullying tactic towards those who are different, or transphobic people using such to isolate a group of trans people. Some people do not fit into the binary or gender nor feel like they’re in any defined nonbinary genders. So they’ll define themselves with words and terms they enjoy. It’s no different from you feeling more comfort from being called “he” versus “she.”  And, in the off chance it is someone just seeking attention. It doesn’t matter. Let them have their fun. They’re not ruining anything calling themselves spacegender on tumblr dot com. Claim: There are people faking being trans to fit into a crowd. / The entire concept of “transtrenders.” The Truth: Not true. This is just age old blatant “you’re faking” transphobia.  Claim: Trans people on hrt or post-op can not experience sexual enjoyment. The Truth: Both will change your body’s entire response to sex. Your enjoyment doesn’t disappear, the entire process just changes to something different. This inaccuracy is spread by transphobes on average and isn’t remotely true. Claim: Trans people have a high rate of suicide. The Truth: I’m sorry to say that trans people are under the stress of discrimination from all angles, and on top of other stresses or discriminations one may experience, it leads us into suicidal ideation. But, that’s why we need to stick together and help each other out. If you’re trans and considering suicide, consider the following: National Suicide Prevention Hotline:  1-800-273-8255 Trans Lifeline USA:  1-877-565-8860 Trans Lifeline Canada: 1-877-330-6366 The Trevor Project Hotline:  1-866-488-7386 The Trevor Project also offers texting and chat You deserve to live your life. I promise you you’re strong enough to get through this.

trans-mom: Claim: “Trans” is short for “transition.” The Truth: “Trans” is short for “transgender.” It is just a descriptor of a person’s...

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lemonsgivelife: debthestoner: rrdcooc: addakax: mysticalalleycat: politicalcdnmama: theresagooseinthemainframe: 0-memento-mori-0: justaplate: claydart: starlitskyes: frosttrix: extremedistressorstellarblowjob: queen-of-heck: brightoncemore: todayiwrotenothing: gay-jesus-probably: solongstarbird: akamine-chan: phantomofthebookstore: dragonastra: jasperzilla: moose-shampoo: if you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to live in the midwest, this is it.  You missed some of the best ones the best part about it is that the art installation isn’t actually called the Bean. It’s called Cloud Gate, and artist Anish Kapoor (yes, THAT Anish Kapoor) hates that we call it the Bean. But i mean, look at it. It’s a bean. How could you forget this one though I HAD NO FUCKING IDEA THAT THE BEAN WAS CREATED BY ANISH KAPOOR. someone help me why is anish kapoor important what did he do? Alright sit down for some Art World Drama bcause this is what I live for. So, sometime last year (?) science invented Vantablack, which is the darkest possible shade of black. Art world got incredibly excited. But as it needs to be very carefully made in a lab, it’s hard to get a hold of, and is extremely expensive. Enter Anish Kapoor, aka FuckFace McGee. Anish Kapoor buys the rights to Vantablack. He is the only human being on the planet that can legally use it, and he’s kind of a prick about it. Art world is not thrilled with that. Enter Stuart Semple. Stuart Semple is an artist, and also makes pigments to sell in his free time. Stuart Semple is astoundingly pissed about this Vantablack nonsense, and Anish Kapoor’s dickery. Stuart Semple makes a new pigment, the brightest shade of pink ever, called Pinkest Pink, and puts it for sale on the internet. To be bought by everybody except Anish Kapoor. Literally, to purchase, you need to confirm that you are not Anish Kapoor, do not associate with him, and will not sell or give the pigment to Anish Kapoor or his associates. Art world has a good laugh, everyone buys Pinkest Pink because it’s awesome, and damn it we deserve something. Anish Kapoor however is a penis, and will not take this lying down, because HOW DARE he not have literally everything. Anish Kapoor gets his London associates to buy him a thing of Pinkest Pink, and being such a classy human being, posts a picture to instagram of him with his middle finger covered in Pinkest Pink, captioned with “Up yours. #pink” Everyone flips shit, because. Y’know. Fuck that guy. Especially Stuart Semple. For context here, Anish Kapoor is one of the richest artists on the planet, and has repeatedly been referred to as everything wrong with the art world, and the epitome of the art worlds elitism problem. He’s a giant douchebag. Meanwhile Stuart Semple makes pigments just to get them out there. He turns 0 profit from his now enourmously popular pigments. Stuart Semple launches an investigation as to who the fuck leaked Pinkest Pink, and plans to strike back. He does so by releasing two new products. First is Diamond Dust, which is a glitter made from glass, so that a painting is still visible after it’s applied, but glitters like a mofo. It’s the most reflective glitter out there, and is available to everyone who isn’t Anish Kapoor. And it being made of glass, if you stick your finger in there, it’s going to hurt quite a bit, so that was Stuart Semple’s way of saying “shove your middle finger in this, asshole, see what happens”. Except without saying that, because he can get an insult across while still being fucking classy. He also releases Black 2.0, created with the help of over a thousand artists worldwide. Black 2.0 is the answer to Vantablack. Black 2.0 is a slightly less black black, but looks functionally the same to the human eye. It’s completely safe, smells like cherries, and costs four pounds. Vantablack is highly toxic, potentially explosive, needs to be applied in a special laboratory and sealed properly, can’t be moved across borders, can reach 300 degrees celsius if you’re not extremely careful, and costs thousands of dollars. Anish Kapoor is the only human being who can use Vantablack. He is the only human being who cannot use Black 2.0. So I think we can guess who got the better deal. And thus the feud ends, Kapoor defeated. …But not quite. Kapoor, in this entire afair, has made exactly two comments to the public. The first being his charming message about aquiring Pinkest Pink, the second being claiming to Buzzfeed that he and his small army of lawyers will be suing Semple, an extremely poor artist who cannot afford a lawyer. No lawsuit has been made yet, fyi. The point is, Kapoor is a prick, and doesn’t like talking to the lower classes. So one day in July 2017, he decides he needs another floor on his London studio apartment, and starts making arrangements to have it built. His neighbors are fucking pissed, because this will ruin the light of their apartments. They call to Semple to save them, or at the very least piss Kapoor off some more. Semple answers to the call, and releases two new paints, Phaze and Shift, as always, banned to Kapoor. They change colours, Phaze with temperature, and Shift is just iridescent. Shift needs to be painted over Black 2.0 to work, and Phaze just works on its own. So that’s been the art world for the last two years. Basically, get fucked Anish Kapoor your bean sucks and so does your vantablack. Stuart Semple is organising a bean-kissing event for Anish Kapoor’s birthday. Reblogging for “By attending this event you confirm that you are not Anish Kapoor, you are in no way affiliated with Anish Kapoor, you are not attending on behalf of Anish Kapoor or an associate of Anish Kapoor. To the best of your knowledge, information, and belief this event will not be attended by Anish Kapoor.” ALSO HE JUST POSTED THIS!!!!!! LIGHTEST LIGHT! I know this isn’t my art blog but this entire post gives me life im sorry is that man holding a real actual miniature star in his hands Y’all missed the best part about the lightest light, called aptly ‘Lit’. This is from their product page: Two things: 1. “Anish Kapoor is however a penis” is the best line in this post. 2. I wish to be half as petty and half as awesome as Stuart Semple I hope Stuart Semple is making a lot of money. What a good person. Go support him the paint’s are pretty cheap and you get the added bonus of being one of many to help piss off Anish Kapoor He is my fucking role model for pettiness oh my god It got better! I’m also excited because he just released biodegradable glitter in non plastic containers! How amazing is that?! Stuart Semple, good guy for the planet and artists, fighter against the rich elite artist like asshole Kapoor. An older project, but he also did this: (x) oh dude hes metal as fuck  Every addition to this post is better than the last. Me, being gay and having my blood drawn: so…what do you need my blood for again? Stuart Semple: gonna make an anti-government t-shirt with it. Me: Me: :) Be a Stuart Semple in 2020. Use your petty to inspire and drive you. : lemonsgivelife: debthestoner: rrdcooc: addakax: mysticalalleycat: politicalcdnmama: theresagooseinthemainframe: 0-memento-mori-0: justaplate: claydart: starlitskyes: frosttrix: extremedistressorstellarblowjob: queen-of-heck: brightoncemore: todayiwrotenothing: gay-jesus-probably: solongstarbird: akamine-chan: phantomofthebookstore: dragonastra: jasperzilla: moose-shampoo: if you’ve ever wondered what it’s like to live in the midwest, this is it.  You missed some of the best ones the best part about it is that the art installation isn’t actually called the Bean. It’s called Cloud Gate, and artist Anish Kapoor (yes, THAT Anish Kapoor) hates that we call it the Bean. But i mean, look at it. It’s a bean. How could you forget this one though I HAD NO FUCKING IDEA THAT THE BEAN WAS CREATED BY ANISH KAPOOR. someone help me why is anish kapoor important what did he do? Alright sit down for some Art World Drama bcause this is what I live for. So, sometime last year (?) science invented Vantablack, which is the darkest possible shade of black. Art world got incredibly excited. But as it needs to be very carefully made in a lab, it’s hard to get a hold of, and is extremely expensive. Enter Anish Kapoor, aka FuckFace McGee. Anish Kapoor buys the rights to Vantablack. He is the only human being on the planet that can legally use it, and he’s kind of a prick about it. Art world is not thrilled with that. Enter Stuart Semple. Stuart Semple is an artist, and also makes pigments to sell in his free time. Stuart Semple is astoundingly pissed about this Vantablack nonsense, and Anish Kapoor’s dickery. Stuart Semple makes a new pigment, the brightest shade of pink ever, called Pinkest Pink, and puts it for sale on the internet. To be bought by everybody except Anish Kapoor. Literally, to purchase, you need to confirm that you are not Anish Kapoor, do not associate with him, and will not sell or give the pigment to Anish Kapoor or his associates. Art world has a good laugh, everyone buys Pinkest Pink because it’s awesome, and damn it we deserve something. Anish Kapoor however is a penis, and will not take this lying down, because HOW DARE he not have literally everything. Anish Kapoor gets his London associates to buy him a thing of Pinkest Pink, and being such a classy human being, posts a picture to instagram of him with his middle finger covered in Pinkest Pink, captioned with “Up yours. #pink” Everyone flips shit, because. Y’know. Fuck that guy. Especially Stuart Semple. For context here, Anish Kapoor is one of the richest artists on the planet, and has repeatedly been referred to as everything wrong with the art world, and the epitome of the art worlds elitism problem. He’s a giant douchebag. Meanwhile Stuart Semple makes pigments just to get them out there. He turns 0 profit from his now enourmously popular pigments. Stuart Semple launches an investigation as to who the fuck leaked Pinkest Pink, and plans to strike back. He does so by releasing two new products. First is Diamond Dust, which is a glitter made from glass, so that a painting is still visible after it’s applied, but glitters like a mofo. It’s the most reflective glitter out there, and is available to everyone who isn’t Anish Kapoor. And it being made of glass, if you stick your finger in there, it’s going to hurt quite a bit, so that was Stuart Semple’s way of saying “shove your middle finger in this, asshole, see what happens”. Except without saying that, because he can get an insult across while still being fucking classy. He also releases Black 2.0, created with the help of over a thousand artists worldwide. Black 2.0 is the answer to Vantablack. Black 2.0 is a slightly less black black, but looks functionally the same to the human eye. It’s completely safe, smells like cherries, and costs four pounds. Vantablack is highly toxic, potentially explosive, needs to be applied in a special laboratory and sealed properly, can’t be moved across borders, can reach 300 degrees celsius if you’re not extremely careful, and costs thousands of dollars. Anish Kapoor is the only human being who can use Vantablack. He is the only human being who cannot use Black 2.0. So I think we can guess who got the better deal. And thus the feud ends, Kapoor defeated. …But not quite. Kapoor, in this entire afair, has made exactly two comments to the public. The first being his charming message about aquiring Pinkest Pink, the second being claiming to Buzzfeed that he and his small army of lawyers will be suing Semple, an extremely poor artist who cannot afford a lawyer. No lawsuit has been made yet, fyi. The point is, Kapoor is a prick, and doesn’t like talking to the lower classes. So one day in July 2017, he decides he needs another floor on his London studio apartment, and starts making arrangements to have it built. His neighbors are fucking pissed, because this will ruin the light of their apartments. They call to Semple to save them, or at the very least piss Kapoor off some more. Semple answers to the call, and releases two new paints, Phaze and Shift, as always, banned to Kapoor. They change colours, Phaze with temperature, and Shift is just iridescent. Shift needs to be painted over Black 2.0 to work, and Phaze just works on its own. So that’s been the art world for the last two years. Basically, get fucked Anish Kapoor your bean sucks and so does your vantablack. Stuart Semple is organising a bean-kissing event for Anish Kapoor’s birthday. Reblogging for “By attending this event you confirm that you are not Anish Kapoor, you are in no way affiliated with Anish Kapoor, you are not attending on behalf of Anish Kapoor or an associate of Anish Kapoor. To the best of your knowledge, information, and belief this event will not be attended by Anish Kapoor.” ALSO HE JUST POSTED THIS!!!!!! LIGHTEST LIGHT! I know this isn’t my art blog but this entire post gives me life im sorry is that man holding a real actual miniature star in his hands Y’all missed the best part about the lightest light, called aptly ‘Lit’. This is from their product page: Two things: 1. “Anish Kapoor is however a penis” is the best line in this post. 2. I wish to be half as petty and half as awesome as Stuart Semple I hope Stuart Semple is making a lot of money. What a good person. Go support him the paint’s are pretty cheap and you get the added bonus of being one of many to help piss off Anish Kapoor He is my fucking role model for pettiness oh my god It got better! I’m also excited because he just released biodegradable glitter in non plastic containers! How amazing is that?! Stuart Semple, good guy for the planet and artists, fighter against the rich elite artist like asshole Kapoor. An older project, but he also did this: (x) oh dude hes metal as fuck  Every addition to this post is better than the last. Me, being gay and having my blood drawn: so…what do you need my blood for again? Stuart Semple: gonna make an anti-government t-shirt with it. Me: Me: :) Be a Stuart Semple in 2020. Use your petty to inspire and drive you.
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feniczoroark: injuries-in-dust: sewickedthread: coredesignixandnekonee: the-real-numbers: ilfaitdusoleil: bigwordsandsharpedges: Ball lightning is a rare electrical phenomenon. Scientists aren’t certain what creates it, and once disputed that ball lighning existed at all. Some argued that it was simply the electromagnetic field of an electrical storm causing visual hallucinations by exciting neurons in the brain, an effect called transcranial magnetic stimulation. However, recent high-definition video proved that at least some instances must be a real physical effect. Spectrograpic analysis of this images suggests that ball lightning is made of vaporized silicon contained within a self-contained electromagnetic bubble, effectively making a naturally occurring electric arc lamp. Laboratory experiments successfully replicated the glowing ball of plasma, which hovered for several seconds. Unfortunately, other lab experiments create similar visual effects using wildly different methods, including electrically-excited nanoparticles, water shocked by capacitors to simulate lightning, and a bubble of ionized gas fuelled for many seconds by a vast atmospheric energy field. The varying size of that energy-pumping field would conveniently explain the unpredictable size, duration, and electrical power levels observed in ball lightning. So we’re still not sure what that thing in the video really is, but it may be possible to create something like that in a dozen different ways. I would lose my mind like a 15th century peasant if I saw this walking down the street Me crossing the street Willow wisps? Joe Baldwin, is that you? Some historical instances of seeing g angels are now believed to have been ancient people encountering ball lighting. Don’t move, don’t shoot it, stay against the wall Artjom don’t move. : TikTok danojok86 JTikTok @snejok86 feniczoroark: injuries-in-dust: sewickedthread: coredesignixandnekonee: the-real-numbers: ilfaitdusoleil: bigwordsandsharpedges: Ball lightning is a rare electrical phenomenon. Scientists aren’t certain what creates it, and once disputed that ball lighning existed at all. Some argued that it was simply the electromagnetic field of an electrical storm causing visual hallucinations by exciting neurons in the brain, an effect called transcranial magnetic stimulation. However, recent high-definition video proved that at least some instances must be a real physical effect. Spectrograpic analysis of this images suggests that ball lightning is made of vaporized silicon contained within a self-contained electromagnetic bubble, effectively making a naturally occurring electric arc lamp. Laboratory experiments successfully replicated the glowing ball of plasma, which hovered for several seconds. Unfortunately, other lab experiments create similar visual effects using wildly different methods, including electrically-excited nanoparticles, water shocked by capacitors to simulate lightning, and a bubble of ionized gas fuelled for many seconds by a vast atmospheric energy field. The varying size of that energy-pumping field would conveniently explain the unpredictable size, duration, and electrical power levels observed in ball lightning. So we’re still not sure what that thing in the video really is, but it may be possible to create something like that in a dozen different ways. I would lose my mind like a 15th century peasant if I saw this walking down the street Me crossing the street Willow wisps? Joe Baldwin, is that you? Some historical instances of seeing g angels are now believed to have been ancient people encountering ball lighting. Don’t move, don’t shoot it, stay against the wall Artjom don’t move.
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