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#first generation
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Honda Quint Integra Sedan GSi, 1987. The first generation Integra saloon was powered by a 1.6 litre DOHC 16 valve engine. Honda's adoption of wishbone from suspension allowed a low profile front profile
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en-wheelz-me · 1 day
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th4simp · 29 days
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He's so silly I love him
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admaioremdeigloriam · 2 years
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Okay hear me out, 2000's First Gen Catholic Aesthetic, or is that just getting too specific?
I can't be the only one who experienced this.
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coolthingsguyslike · 2 months
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blessedbygookim · 29 days
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Poor mans has died inside like 6 times, went through all stages of grief as well just in under a few minutes–
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Justice for Initial N. 😔✊🏼
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mansorus · 5 months
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snugglecat453 · 8 months
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HOWDY TUMBLR… I know this isn’t usually what I post- and I’ll get back to posting my usual stuff right after! I just wanted to talk about an experience I think a lot of people around me can relate to. This isn’t a vent- this is simply just me talking about some stuff I’m going through in hopes of it reaching out to people who feel the same no matter their certain situation!
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vvmylove · 1 month
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Lookism 492 Spoilers
I'll be honest with you. I hated the chapter cuz idgaf about James Lee- BUT PTJ DID MAKE UP FOR IT WITHIN THE LAST FEW PANELS SO HERE WE GO (paragraph at the end)
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GET🤬YOUR🤬FILTHY🤬HANDS🤬OFF🤬HER🤬THIS🤬INSTANT🤬
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DADDYS HOME (Usher)
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😍creamed
Ptj finally did something right by bringing the first generation. I was getting so sick and tired of seeing James. Notice how everyone's background is connected somehow? What if the first generation were also like that- like how gun is in every backstory/ how the first generations sons coke all together. I feel like ptj is trying to find a way to connect everyone's lives but I believe he could do it differently somehow. I'm sick of the same ideas plus I do miss the slice of life part of lookism.
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doodadmanual · 10 days
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Chevy Camaro! How cool is that. And it’s first gen.
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the-howling-wind · 15 days
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Down with Pikachu, all hail the way superior Raichu
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Saab 900 Turbo, 1980. The first generation 900 was based on the earlier 99 but with a longer nose to meet U.S. frontal crash regulations and allow space for turbocharged engines.
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lookismfanfics · 1 year
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𝐋𝐨𝐲𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐲
?? x Fem!Reader Drabble
Tw: Implied violence, angst, hospital themes
[“His chapped lips part, but he remains speechless. The fires that once lit his eyes had been extinguished, left glossy and damp. He looks so overwhelmed. So lost. ”]
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The corridor smells sterile, fluorescent lights line the chalk colored ceiling, and white tiles run down the stretch of the hallway; you feel yourself suffocating with anxiety in this setting. It’s like you’re sleepwalking, merely hallucinating that you’d been called to the ER at 5 AM on account that you were the only listed number on his entree form. Nothing can ever change the fact that you despise medical settings. You feel awkward, hovering in toe with the nurse as she gently guides you to the waiting room, leaving you to fill out paperwork.
You aren’t even an adult, and you’re being forced to fill out paperwork?
“When did my penmanship get so sloppy?” you wonder, scribbling down your name with a shaky hand. 
You can hardly focus. It feels like all your thoughts are being snubbed out by that signature hospital scent.
The paperwork is collected; you hold your jacket awkwardly in your arms. It’s a waiting game… until the doctor approaches you. 
“Miss (L/N)?” 
You rise from your seat, nodding at the man. He looks over his clipboard, eventually folding the file behind his back and giving you his full attention. 
“You’re here for…?” You nod in confirmation, again, feeling unable to utter a word.
Your voice, when you finally rasp out a few words, sounds hoarse and unfamiliar, “Where is he?”
In a matter of minutes, you find yourself closing the curtain into the dark corner of the hospital. The room is blue-washed and dim; the only light sources come from the beeping machines and warmly lit bed light. You catch a glimpse of the pulse oximeter on his finger, the tell-tale red glow hiding beneath a fold in the covers. 
You hover awkwardly by the doorway, admiring his side profile in silence. His broad chest rises and falls, each breath accompanied by the heart monitor’s beeping. You’ve never seen him looking so vulnerable and bloody. 
You approach the bedside tentatively, curling your fingers into the fabric of your jacket. Your palms feel sweaty, but even still you force yourself to reach out to the bed, grabbing hold of the scratchy sheets. From this close you can see the cotton hospital gown that he wears beneath the covers, and as your eyes roam you catch glimpses of the hardened scars on his infamous fist. 
Then your gazes connect. Before you can say anything else… without any thought words slip through your lips and escape you. 
“Taesoo… your eye.”
Alarmed, you feel an uncomfortable plummet to your stomach as you scan over his face. Your fingers feel numb as you squeeze your hands into the fabric of the hospital sheets. Leaning over his broad chest, your mortified expression is highlighted in the warm lamplight. “What happened?” 
His chapped lips part, but he remains speechless. The fires that once lit his eyes had been extinguished, left glossy and damp. He looks so overwhelmed. So lost. 
You don’t see the confidence. Or the ferocity. 
At the moment, he doesn’t even look intimidating. Just vulnerable. Your King… the King of Ansan… looks vulnerable. 
“James Lee…” he mumbles. In a parched voice, he uttered a name you would never forget. The name of a man you swore to defeat. 
His solitary dark eye was unfocused and hazy, staring up at you as if he didn’t recognize who you were. As though you weren’t his most loyal follower. 
You didn’t blame him for thinking you had left him. That’s what everyone else thought.  “His lady walked out on him as soon as he lost his eye.”
“Only there for the looks I guess.”
“Unfaithful-”
“Whore—”
No one seemed to understand the rage that had stemmed from Taesoo and into you. The vengeance that boiled in the pit of your stomach as you curled your fists into balls and buried your face in the hospital sheets.
James Lee.
Hot, angry tears streamed down the side of your face as you looked up at Taesoo. You held him in your bleary sight. The reddened splotch, empty socket, permanent scars. Ever handsome. 
But he would change. Deny himself. You knew that, and you couldn’t bear the thought. 
You wiped your eyes and swore to yourself. You wouldn’t let that man hurt your King anymore. You would protect your King of Ansan, no matter the cost.
If you had to break your body. Sell your soul. Shatter your bones and rebuild them again. You would do it. As long as you never had to look down at Taesoo with pity ever again. 
You would defeat James Lee. 
If a man couldn’t do it, then surely a woman could.
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I mean scientifically… probably not but UH
PTJ bobbing off with unrealistic… stuff. So I will too 🤷‍♀️
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depressedzee · 4 months
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Redesigning Charmander's Tamagotchi!
Now that I'm finallly out of this semester, I have so much time on my hands that I don't know where to start with my personal projects.
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coolthingsguyslike · 1 year
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hewaje · 5 months
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Bird Jesus
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