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#forgot to post this here lol
emittthehuman · 2 years
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Joe Rogan after getting kicked from the #1 spot by three YouTubers who promised to show Markiplier’s boobs if they won
Audio: exit music by Radiohead
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sraksha · 25 days
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The catgirl waifu does a biiiiig stretch
ASAU Midna belongs to @ageless-soul-au
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shadowduel · 19 days
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^__^
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taybeeart · 1 year
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dearfish · 3 days
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Here's my piece for @ikesorenzine 💙💚
I had so much fun making this one, RD is probably my favourite FE game ever and IkeSoren will always have a special place in my heart;;
Remember leftover sales will be open until 5/10!
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hambuyger · 2 years
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corpsetype · 4 months
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12.28 happy birthday otonoshin!
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avocadomin · 4 months
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stray kids album poster ; rockstar (do not repost)
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j0cto · 7 months
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genderbend Robin and Nami 🌸🍊
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logan-the-artist · 10 months
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remus tried to help patton in the kitchen. didn’t go so well
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kiieyla · 10 months
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“Should I place some stars in this reality?”
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8ripecunts · 7 months
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some holden fold expression studies
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kazumi0 · 4 months
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nahamut · 2 years
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"I feel like for the first time in my life I'm on the straight and narrow." Jar Bairn & Diallos
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mimir-mimos · 1 year
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hifudo moment
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singingshutin · 9 months
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Islands: Home
Scenes from the lives of the Edwards Island survivors.
Read on ao3 or down below the cut!
Home.
Alex was home.
For the hundredth time, she stepped over the threshold. For the thousandth time, she kicked off her sand-filled shoes. For the millionth time, she waded through the quicksand of the living room carpet, trudged across the endless fields of kitchen tile, and limped down the yawning maw of the dim hallway. Loop after loop, her destination was the same: the glowing cracks of light shining around the bathroom door. Loop after loop, Jonas muttered something about a last cancer stick; to come get him when she was done. Alex’s head nodded on pure reflex.
She’d done this all before.
Shirt, pants, socks—she let her clothes fall where they would. She wouldn’t touch that blue-hemmed baseball tee again. Her jeans—she had other pairs. She wouldn’t wear the prison garb Edwards Island had assigned her ever again.
Michael’s jacket, though—
Instead of kicking it into the soggy trash bin of bad, bad memories with the others, Alex hung the coat on the back of the bathroom door with the same care afforded to any crown jewel or ceremonial robe, stroking out its blood-red folds with the reverence it deserved.
Faith discerns the things of God, Jonas said. If there was a God, Alex was pretty sure this coat was a third-hand acquisition from the Big Man Upstairs. First His, then Michael’s, then hers.
Alex gave the jacket one last squeeze and stepped into the shower. A hiss as she turned the knob: scalding streams of water burst forth from the showerhead, accompanied by a billowing cloud of steam. Her aching muscles sagged out of tense knots in the heat; the heavy citrus scent of grocery-store body wash swirled in the air as she scrubbed every last trace of that Godforsaken landmass off her skin. Not a single grain of sand escaped her violent scrubbing—scraping at the same skin over and over until she was redder than a boiled lobster and just as tender.
The old towel that her mom had been getting around to replacing for the past year felt softer than silk, and she folded herself deep into its tired recesses. Toothpaste just as minty as Jonas’ menthol cigarettes—though quite a bit less stale and sooty—burned on her tongue and she brushed away at the chalky taste of possession, the bristles of her toothbrush prickly on her gums from the pressure.
It always took exactly two minutes and twenty-seven seconds to get the last of the foul tang out of her teeth: two seconds to grab Michael’s jacket, nine to race down the icy linoleum hall to her room, and another twelve to wriggle into fresh, clean, wholly-un-ghost-touched pajamas. Dry, socked toes padded up to the doorway—the patio was damp, wet socks were worse than ghosts—and Alex tapped on the glass. Jonas’ head jerked around with a sucking hiss, a puff of grey smoke disappearing toward the fading stars, as if frightened by her sudden approach. 
The two blinked at each other for a long moment.
Alex nodded, and Jonas turned back toward the misty grey sky, his shoulders loosening, head falling forward to rest on crossed arms and latticed railing in a muffled sigh of relief.
As silently as she’d slipped up, Alex crept away. He’d be in once he finished smoking. He always was. The steady patter of his shower had lulled her to sleep—what? The past seven hundred or so times? She’d lost count.
Except this time was different, wasn’t it?
Alex fell back into her bed, sinking deep into the pile of blankets. A billion times she’d made it here: a billion times over a billion years across a billion loops. She knew every crack in the plaster, every stain on the walls, every dying glow-in-the-dark star clinging grimly to the ceiling.
But, for the first time, Riley had done it.
Riley had closed the portal.
Alex pulled Michael’s jacket over her head.
And, dear God, please let it be the last time.
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