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#i work at the speed of snail
yomeiu · 1 year
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🌸 
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gendervapor14 · 2 months
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i’m so jealous of people who can write or create before or after a work shift… i don’t understand how you do it. on a day i work, i wake up. eat. dress. go to work. come home. eat. shower. and then immediately pass out. where do you find the time and energy for this
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mightyjemma · 1 month
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we could start a war (or we could live in peace)
Some nights Chris cannot sleep.
(he wakes up coughing then, the pressure of a boot on his ribcage, ash in the air and in his lungs and hair. the feeling of fire too close to his skin, on his skin, burning flesh until the pain stops and all nerve endings are dead.
it isn't real. but it feels real. it was real, in another life.)
(charmed 1998, chris halliwell centric)
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erabundus · 8 months
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it  might  be  a  little  silly  to  say,  but  thank  you  to  everyone  still  waiting  on  a  starter  for  being  so  patient!  i  know  i  write  them  at  the  speed  of  cold  molasses  going  up  an  incline  but  i  am  DETERMINED  to  work  my  way  through  them  all  eventually.
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glowing-wasteland · 11 months
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a wip height chart for just character reference, mostly just to show Sun and Moon’s wastelander outfit and gear
tho... kinda tempted to make an actual character sheet with details and stuff bc graphic design is my passion  🐸
anyway! will update when it’s fully colored and shaded
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leclercsbf · 8 months
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was tagged by @nyoomfruits to post a wip snippet like... ten days ago... took me a while (sorry ellie) But I Am Finally Posting. this still needs a lot of work so let’s hope i don’t end up abandoning it. tagging @ocontraire, @charlosgoggles, and anyone else who has a wip they want to share! please ping, i like getting glimpses of other people’s work.
Learning is a distraction and Charles welcomes it all too easily, focusing on the task at hand rather than allowing his mind to fixate on all of the problems that lay beyond the four corners of the classroom. He’s pleased to find that (for the time being, at the very least) he’s still able to perform as well as he usually does academically, and not once do his thoughts stray towards other pressing matters—enabling him to take a moment and just breathe.
He’s humming a song he heard on the radio by the time the afternoon rolls around, copy after copy of his updated resume being churned out in smooth succession where he’s standing before the university library’s printer; and his eyes are fixated onto the inked sheets when a shadow falls over them and bids him to look up, eyes soon meeting Daniel Ricciardo’s steady gaze.
They don’t quite know each other, is the thing. They’re certainly aware of each other’s existence—Charles can easily recall how they had once grappled for the opportunity to discuss the same subject matter in one of their shared psychology courses—but they hadn’t so much as breathed a word in the other’s direction outside of class. Daniel is arguably one of the richest bastards in the university, after all, and Charles himself is just a little above average (or perhaps he’s a tad below it in light of recent events). Their social circles simply do not coincide, and Charles supposes that neither of them had found any cause to amend that before today—which is why Daniel’s presence prompts Charles to lift a questioning brow, hands working to gather his printouts and staple the sheets together as he asks Daniel what he could help the older male with.
“I heard you got disowned.” comes the response, causing Charles to falter, and it’s only through sheer luck that he’s able to grip the stapler more firmly even as it threatens to clatter onto the floor between their feet. “That must’ve stung.”
“How did you even find out?” Charles inquires, every bit as puzzled as his tone might suggest, because Max was the only person that Charles had told—and he would have kept it to himself, really, if he and Max hadn’t known each other since they were toddlers (long enough that Max could sense Charles’ troubles from a mile away). He tells Daniel as much, growing infinitely more curious as to how the other male chanced upon the information, and the response has Charles’ eyes rolling towards the heavens.
“How does that go again?” Daniel starts, seemingly deep in thought, gestures purposely exaggerated and allowing Charles to see right through the ruse, “‘Tight ass, loose lips’? Your friend let it slip, Leclerc.”
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badartxd · 1 year
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WIP WEDNESDAY
Eyyy it’s still Wednesday! Hooray!
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“My dear woman, that scary snarl of yours would be much more effective if you were to tuck away the wagging tail”
- top 10 photos taken before disaster. Yara thought it was a horror-adjacent monster rivalry plot but the genre is still closer to rom com 😔🙏
Actually managed to doodle my movie monsters Yara and Zev, and hey it’s old cinema so black and white is …serviceable? :’D
Imma tag @heniareth @siriskulksnerding @icylook @wild-houseplant @bumblewarden
Got school at 6 am but I’ll get back on tumblr when I can ^v^
Some miiild blood below
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kokoshnjak · 1 year
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i am cursed (CURSED!!!) by the IBS SPSS gods, this cannot continue
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nulltune · 2 years
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what is time? what are days? what are weeks? no i did not take literal months to reply to things ssssshhhhhh time does not exist i think. time is but a vague concept............
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cubedmango · 1 year
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naina i am very passionate abt ocs.... can i ask abt ur girls... like a lil introduction!! if not tho thats fine!!
OF COURSEE i love my ocs i will talk abt them for days if given the choice ty for asking abt them 😔
ok . so. doter on the left in that drawing is julia, doter on the right is alicia. they have a long and complicated (at least in my head) childhood best friends -> estranged -> rivals -> friends -> lovers arc . i made them v long ago before i even knew abt aa but somehow they ended up scarily similar klapollo so u can imagine how their dynamic is from that i guess
anyways so they used to be inseparable besties and then things happened and unfortunately they got separated both with Very Incorrect Ideas of why they got separated, and then they meet again at their unis theatre club (?? if those are a thing in american unis . idk i havent researched that much) and bc of said incorrect ideas they have a Rivalry ™ ..... on the Stage.......... 👀 then more things happen and they are forced to spend time together and once they actually talk they go 'Wow So We Misunderstood Everything!' and theyre back on track for friendship (and more) except it also takes long bc i gotta have that slow burn
i actually had them meet again during hs but i aged them up for the drama factor of the long estrangement (also bc. girl help i need to project on them forever) so i think that worked out p well?? oh and they both have their own personal besties who manages their pining but i didnt post abt them yet sjdnfbjs
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hueningkai · 2 years
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when will tumblr mobile fix the tag issue its so annoying
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amourcheol · 9 months
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hey i just want to say that i just read your general!cheol fic and holy. shit. your writing is genuinely so so amazing and the way you write love is so beautiful and it feels so filled with such passion. that was one of the best enemies to lovers fics i've ever read, you handle the trope so well. you have such magnificent writing. looking forward to your future works! :)
WHAT THR FAWKKKKKKKK 😞😞😞😞💖💖💖💖😞😞💖😞😞💖😞💖💖😞💖💖 this is so so sweet im literally ???? Screaming shitting crying ?;!:!;&:3&
im so so happy you found the love so passionate 😞😞 i think it was what I enjoyed writing the most because they were so full of hatred before?? so to then write the softening of their tempers and then them falling was 🙏🏼🙏🏼 very rewarding to write
THANK U FOR THAT OMG ?? I was so scared i fucked up the enemies to lovers im glad u found it so well done 😞😞💖💖💖
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capinejghafa · 1 year
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Hi again!
Can you do a gifset of like just dumb/funny/aww moments from the hargreeves siblings using these lyrics
Trouble travels fast when you're specially designed
For crash testin' or wearin' wool sunglasses in the afternoon
Come on and tell us what you're tryin' to prove
hello there! it took me a little while but it got done!
here it is :)
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slvttyplum · 4 months
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satoru’s fingers are very long, like ridiculously long, why does he need such long fingers?
not only are his hands soft and pretty but his fingers just stand out, nice and slender, so why not use them.
you didn’t take notice of how long his fingers were until they were inside of you one day, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot.
appalled you were. he had you finishing all over his hands in seconds, you needed it again.
you started using his fingers the day after that then the week after, months after, and years after.
it’s a guilty pleasure of yours, they needed to be put to use if he was never going to use them.
satoru didn’t mind either. if anything he wanted you to use his fingers as much as you could.
you could never get tired of his fingers, it was like a personal toy to you, especially when he used both.
he’ll start off slow. slowly sliding in one finger pumping it in and out at snail speed, then rapidly speeding up adding a second finger, then inching a third one in, and taking his other hand putting his thumb on your clit.
he didn’t even have to be the master at fingering, or even knowing all the spots, it’s like his finger’s themselves had a personal tracker for your sweet spot.
the first time he fingered you he was shocked by how fast you came.
“did i really do that?”
indeed you did sir.
he could feel your walls pulsing around his fingers, your fluid slowly leaking down his hand and down his forearm.
call yourself the sprinkler the way you let yourself squirt.
it’s nothing like finishing from his fingers, it’s a new sense of pride he gets, because what guy do you know gets you to finish from just fingers alone? exactly.
this was a new profound power that he discovered and will use for the rest of his life.
he’s so cocky about it he tries to give his friends tips on how to finger someone.
“yeah, so just take your fingers… yeah like that, they’ll be knocked out.”
you thank the universe every-time he makes you cum because those fingers are a work of art.
you don’t even ask for dick, you ask for the fingers instead. he tries to have sex with you and you agree but then it’s just you getting fingered.
his fingers strengthened 10 times throughout the years from how much he fingered you.
should’ve taken a before and after picture.
remember… the next time a guy tries to finger you, just think about satoru gojos fingers and how they can never finger you like he can.
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bookofbonbon · 5 months
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strut: through a roundabout - coriolanus snow
Characters: Coriolanus Snow x Reader.
Warnings: Vehicular manslaughter- maybe.
Summary: You're always late to work and today was no different.
Word Count: 400+.
A/N: Inspired by one of my posts on my other blog @sihtriggyr. Enjoy!
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You were late- again.
Three weeks under the tutelage of your infamous uncle and you could count on one hand the number of times you had arrived to work on time; your tardiness toward your employment quickly cementing itself as a bad habit you couldn't quite shake- not that you were trying to. Not really. As your uncle said, cars are a luxury few can afford, there is no traffic in the Capitol and yet you are always late.
You glance toward the digital numbers flashing on the dashboard, the clock telling you that you had ten minutes until sign on, however, given the snail pace that you were traveling you wouldn't arrive until five minutes after that.
You approach the unnecessarily large roundabout, merging smoothly into one of the several lanes. Pressing your foot down on the pedal, the vehicle lurches forward, steadily gaining speed. Today, you decide, would be the day you would arrive at work on time this week. The thought however, is quickly banished as you glimpse a flash of red in the middle of all of the lanes.
You slam urgently down on the brakes, steering wheel jerking to the side accompanied with the screech of tyres and the smell of burning rubber but, there's a loud thud anyway- you were too late; you had just hit a young man with your car.
Your heart pounds heavily in your ears, fear poisoning your chest and spreading through the rest of your body as you throw the car door open and run to the aid of the young man without a second thought for yourself.
He's on his side when you approach. Breath catching in your throat, you kneel behind him, instinctively pressing two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. It's faint but it's there and aside from his torn clothes and what looked to be a few scratches, the young man looked otherwise fine and you remember to breathe again.
With shaky hands, you ease the young man onto his back, a stab of annoyance replacing the fear that poisoned your chest as irritation begins to set in.
"What sort of idiot goes strutting through a roundabout?" you question angrily, fingers delicately brushing the centre of his palm.
So, finally you look at the young man- really look at him. Your nose wrinkles immediately, mouth twisting itself into a deep scowl at the familiar face.
Coriolanus Snow.
Coriolanus Snow is the sort of idiot who goes strutting through a roundabout.
Maybe you didn't feel so bad about hitting someone with your if it was him.
-
All fics are my own work - I have not posted my work anywhere else.
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters/places mentioned above.
Do not copy. Do not translate. Do not repost.
bookofbonbon 2023. All rights reserved.
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cottonlemonade · 28 days
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How You Met
word count: 950 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.
pairing: post time-skip Akaashi x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff
warnings: one person being casually rude about your weight (it’s quick tho)
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The taiyaki were still hot in the white paper bag, the smell reminding you it was almost lunch time.
Looking the street up and down for a bus stop or a waiting taxi you turned on the spot. A little ways up the pathway you could make out the typical black boxy shape of a Tokyo taxi and readjusting your handbag you headed towards it, only for a busy looking person in a suit to snatch it up before you could reach it, muttering something about how you would be better off walking for some exercise.
In disbelief about such rudeness you shook your head, pulling your coat a little closer around your chubby form.
You were sure another taxi would take its place soon enough and got on tiptoes to examine the traffic, on the lookout for one.
A mischievous breeze blew up your coat collar, making you wish you would have worn a scarf after all. Although April was right around the corner, the weather today was icy cold.
Giving up for the time being you headed towards a little flower shop you had passed just a few meters back to warm yourself.
A bell chimed when you opened the door. Pots with regular and more exotic house plants stacked on shelves along the wall, one display case behind the counter held the fresh cut flowers while another showed already bound bouquets in varying sizes and color schemes.
The woman standing behind the cash register called a friendly greeting and held the beginnings of a new arrangement at arm's length to check for possible improvements.
"What can I do for you?", she asked, putting the flowers down and folding her hands over a small pregnant belly.
"I would like a bouquet with peonies and… some eucalyptus, please."
The woman smiled and got to work, asking here and there for specifics in color or fullness.
She was about to come to an end with the simple coral and cream bouquet when the doorbell rang again and a young man looking remarkably like a substitute literature teacher entered the shop, a phone to his ear.
"Yes, father, I am getting flowers. I’ll be there soon. Oh, actually, I might be a while, there are quite a lot of people waiting."
You heard an angry voice yelling something unintelligible from the phone, when he simply hung up and sighed. He reached to tug at his collar like it was too tight and closed his eyes for a second, then, remembering he was in public, gave a bow to you and the saleswoman and apologized.
"Please take as long as you want.", he said, almost pleadingly.
He looked like he had a headache, grabbing his collar again.
"O-on second thought,", you began, turning to the owner that was just about to add the last eucalyptus branch, "I forgot I wanted more. Silly me. Uhm, could you make one with… hmm, those blue ones, some of the small greens, those white tulips, and lots of those light blues there, please? And then another one… with those yellow ones there, there and those, too, please." Your best friends would be delighted.
"Oh", the owner caught on immediately, "that was quite a lot. I don’t think I could memorize which ones you wanted all at once."
"No problem. I can tell you one by one."
The young man gave a small grateful smile at the stage-play-like interaction, letting out a “Thank you very much” under his breath.
As the shop owner wrapped up the first bundle of flowers at snail speed, you turned to the young man, wanting to cheer him up.
"So, where do you not want to go?"
Seemingly too exasperated to care about talking to a perfect stranger he said, "A blind date. Which, by the way, isn't actually blind but with a woman I have absolutely no interest in talking to about anything."
"Oh fun.", you said and trying to lighten the mood added, "Why not bring some flowers that say Thanks for coming, I don’t wanna be here?"
Everyone laughed, but the guy stopped after a second or two, looking at you for the first time, then turned to the florist.
"Can I do that?"
She thought for a moment, then slowly nodded, "I can add some candytuft, for sure and… hm, something really neutral for… and then… maybe I still have some butterweed. Yeah, I think I can do that."
You stayed even after your third bouquet was done, keeping the conversation going, joking around and glad when the young man gave a genuine laugh.
"Let me.", he said, sounding tired, when you drew out your wallet to pay for your flowers.
You shook your head, smiled and handed your card to the owner. Then you reached into the paper bag.
The buns in the meantime had turned lukewarm, but still smelled heavenly when you fished one out in a napkin and handed it to the woman - the other still in the bag you placed on the counter for a moment, grabbing a pen from your pocket. You quickly jotted down your name and number on the paper and handed it to him.
“And here. If you need rescuing from your blind date, send me a text and I’ll call you right away with some made-up emergency.”
Then you raised your free hand that wasn’t busy balancing the flowers with a “You got this.” and after a final wave you left.
Akaashi was still staring at the door for a few long moments after you had gone.
“You’d make a cute couple.”, the saleswoman mused and grinned when the young man blushed profusely, holding tighter to the paper bag.
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