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#i'm a little obsessed
meaty-bones · 1 month
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So we're familiar with Sozo and Helob, right? But have you considered -
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boyslit · 19 days
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HANYA THO. THEY NAILED THE WEIRDGIRL VIBES. THANK GOD
What a woman.
what an off-putting weirdo
she writes novels that can't be attributed to her because of her clandestine job which is also basically a lifetime prison sentence with no chance of parole, loves her sister to an alarming degree, her battle idle line is delighted because she can sit and rest for a second doing absolutely nothing(!), she displays almost 0 emotion besides exhaustion, has to watch everyone's fucking sins for most of her awake time to judge their souls, her sister is actually a fucking dead girl in a robot body who gets an hour of free time for every two people she arrests, so of course hanya talks about almost nothing but xueyi and probably has a countdown to the next time she's allowed "out" and they can see each other. holy crap
girl can i come to your room and listen to you talk about your sister while we stare at the ceiling in dread-laced ennui and hold hands and maybe kiss a little
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nothing-behindher-eyes · 11 months
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I ahve so many things to say about how mike faist is the finest, most beautiful, sexiest, kindest, purest soul on the planet and I'll DIE on this hill
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he will be the death of me
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Head empty, just Buggy
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valyrfia · 10 months
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someone free me from the curse of homoerotic f1 drivers
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constantcrisis19 · 1 year
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Fighting For Air
Billy Hargrove x GN S/O
Word Count: 1,818
Warnings: Near death experience, drowning
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You winced when the band that your friend had secured around your wrist pulled at the fine hairs on your arm, the girl mumbling an apology before patting at your hand and pulling away.
You sighed and spun the band around until the sticky part was resting against your inner wrist and hoped that, when you got into the water, it would make the glue lose its adhesion and help with the discomfort.
You absentmindedly rubbed at the annoying wristband as you followed your friends over to a table that had just been vacated, claiming it before anyone else could. It was a hot day, so the area was packed -which made it hard to find a spot to sit- and the pool wasn't any better.
Though, thankfully, most of the kids were confined to the shallow end with their parents while the deeper part of the pool was reserved for the teens and adults, which made it a little less cramped than the rest of the water. 
You dropped your things onto the tabletop and got briefly distracted when one of your friends playfully pointed out Billy, who was trading places with Heather and climbing up into the lifeguard chair. His sunglasses made it impossible to tell where he was looking, so you pried your eyes away from him before he could catch you staring and punched your smug friend in the arm. 
Once you were happy with your setup, you all went down the steps and into the pool, wading out under the buoys and into the deep end where you split off from the others. 
After swimming a few laps you decided to starfish in the pool, just enjoying the cool water, your eyes snapping open when you heard a few people giggling obnoxiously loudly, your bubble of tranquility unceremoniously bursting. 
You stopped floating for the moment and turned your attention to where the sound had come from, and it didn’t take you long to spot Billy, who was standing on the other end of the pool, the blond having come down from the chair in order to speak to a group of girls. 
You sighed at Billy’s usual antics and went back to calmly drifting in the water, startling when you felt your right calf twinge. You jerked, disturbing the water around you as you adjusted your position until you were treading water instead of floating on your back. 
“What the hell?” You muttered under your breath as you scowled down through the lapping waves of water at your legs. The little twitch of muscle wasn’t something worthy of immediate alarm, but it was still a little concerning since the only other time you had to deal with the sensation was when you had a charlie horse. 
You looked around to see if you could maybe swim for the edge of the pool, but in your distracted state you had somehow managed to end up in the middle of the pool, surrounded by screaming, splashing people. 
When you felt the muscle cramp again, this time more violently, you called for one of your friends who was the closest to your position. You saw her head whip around, her gaze scanning the pool until she spotted you bobbing in the crowd before she pushed away from the wall and swam over to you. 
“What’s up?” She asked, her wide grin falling from her face at whatever expression you were sporting at the moment.
“Something’s wrong, my le-” Your warning was abruptly cut off when your entire calf seized up, your shout of pain cut off when you stopped treading water, water coming up and over your head as you went under. 
The world was a mess of swirling bubbles and blurry movement as you felt your friend grabbing at your arms, struggling to pull you back up to the surface. Your lungs burned as her hands finally got a hold of your slippery skin and dragged you up, allowing you to break the water with a gasp.
You only got a single breath in before she lost her grip and you dipped back under the water, sinking lower this time. Everything was muffled and you could barely see anything in the turbulent water, but you could tell that your friend was yelling due to the vibration of her body against your shoulders. 
She paused her yelling in order to dive under after you and you blindly reached for her with the hand not clutching at your cramping calf muscle. And -once your friend took a hold of your trembling limb- you used it to claw yourself to the surface for a second time.
“Oh fuck that hurts!” You snarled at no one in particular, spitting out the water that had gotten into your mouth as you spoke. 
“Help! Please, we need help!” Your friend shouted as the entirety of your right leg locked up. You inhaled sharply at the stabbing sensation in your calf before letting out a loud scream, the sound ringing out over your friend’s desperate attempts to be heard despite the sound of kids playing in the shallows. 
You saw a glimpse of movement from where Billy was standing, the blond now staring out over the water instead of at the girls that were still trying to flirt with him, before the cramping intensified and you were forced back under. 
The third time you managed to come back up, you let out a raspy curse through gritted teeth, your arms trembling as you stubbornly coughed up water, exhaustion weighing down your limbs. Dread settled low in your gut as you came to the realization that, the next time that you were dragged below the surface, you didn’t think that you had the strength to pull yourself back out.
You distantly heard your friend speaking to you, but it was difficult to focus on anything other than the tightness in your chest and the deep agony in your calf. You, for some unknown reason, glanced up as your head once again began to dip under despite your friend's best efforts and saw Billy now turned toward the two of you with his mirrored sunglasses clutched in his fist. 
You made brief eye contact, his blue eyes widening in shock, before your vision was once again obscured by water. You were jostled as you hit the bottom of the pool, a flurry of bubbles erupting from your lips as you involuntarily exhaled, and you curled up around your bum leg, squeezing your eyes shut as you slammed the palm of your free hand against the slippery floor of the pool in a bout of frustration. 
You felt a confusing mix of horror and resignation as your lungs began to ache, your body forcing you to instinctually open your mouth and inhale water. You thrashed as a sharp pain stabbed your chest, your vision going dark at the edges.
You heard a muffled commotion above you, but didn't bother to look, your lungs beginning to beg for air that you didn't have. A dull sound echoed through the pool, the water shifting violently as someone dove in. A few moments later, you felt hands on your shoulders, maneuvering you where they wanted you as another pair shoved some sort of flotation device up under your limp arms.
Then, seemingly between one blink and the next, you were lying on the concrete next to the pool. You caught a glimpse of red with a familiar white cross before your body reminded you that you needed to breathe and you convulsed. 
You felt two separate pairs of hands on you as you were turned onto your side in order to expel all the water that you had swallowed out onto the ground, your throat burning as the overwhelming smell of chlorine made your nostrils sting.
You heard chattering and whispers from the crowd that was no doubt circling the action as you coughed before trying to curl up with a raspy cry, your hand weakly palming the tight muscles of your sore calf. 
You flinched when fingers pressed firmly against the pulse point in your neck, a separate set of calloused hands gently pulling your own away from your leg before you were carefully rolled onto your back, your head lolling to the side and bringing Heather -who was kneeling next to your right shoulder- into view, the teen’s wide fearful gaze staring down at you. 
Her mouth was moving but your head felt like it was stuffed full of cotton, muffling her voice and making it impossible to understand her. You arched off the ground with a hiss when the calloused hands that had been unobtrusively examining your leg brought it up to a ninety degree angle before pressing on the sole of your foot in order to point your toes down toward your body, pulling your calf taunt. 
Your hands shot out to try and grapple with whoever was causing your leg to hurt like that before your wrists were caught and your arms were pinned down at your sides. You forced your stinging eyes open, spotting the blurry figure of a familiar blond looming over you. 
Billy was soaking wet, his dripping hair plastered to his head as he stared down at you with eyes that were as wide as Heather's, his bare chest heaving as if he’d just ran a marathon. 
Your expression twisted into something apologetic at the sound of Billy’s labored breathing, figuring that his shocked expression was due to the fact that this was most likely the first time someone had drowned on his watch. 
You let loose a groan at the thought of becoming the small town’s new headline and slammed your head back against the ground once before there was a flurry of activity, a towel being wedged between the concrete and your head. 
All the tension in your body snapped like a broken rubber band once the muscles in your calf finally released and you stopped struggling against the hands holding you in place. 
You heard the sharp whine of a siren as Billy released your foot, the blond carefully laying your leg back down before kneeling next to you, his hand moving to your wrist in order to check your pulse as he and Heather both ordered the crowd to get out of the way so that the authorities could reach you. 
You devolved into another coughing fit as the EMT's arrived with a stretcher, Billy being forced away as they placed an oxygen mask over your nose and mouth and strapped you into a gurney, carting you away. 
The last thing you saw before the doors closed was Billy standing at the gate with Heather a few paces behind him, the strange mix of emotions flickering across his features making his expression impossible to read before your view of him was cut off.
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Stay calm everybody. STAY CALM-
ISTG IM ABOUT TO KILL MYSELF OR SOMBEODY ELSE IF THEY FUCK THIS SCENE UP BECAUSE OH MY GOD I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG.
But then ofc ofc the sadness of having to wait another year for more content.
LETS WATCH THE GIRLIES ON TIKTOK FREAK OUT ABOUT THIS EPISODE BECAUSE HOLY SHIT-
ITS BETRAYAL TIME
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wheneclipsefalls · 3 months
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I’m wondering about the omega neteyam x alpha oc’s who show up unexpectedly
Not me GIGGLING at my computer like a mad woman!
For some reason my brain has really fixated on this fic and I have been working on it a lot recently. If you have any specific questions I would be more than happy to answer them but here is some general stuff.
There are four alpha males that come onto Omatikaya territory and decide to take Neteyam as their omega. Please keep in mind that this will be a soft dark story so it may be a bit more intense than my usual stuff. I also explore tiny new details with omegaverse in this fic that have been fun to play with.
The four alphas names are Ritstxe, Yeezlin, Ranau, and Neyake. I've been thinking about this fic so much that they have become very distinct people in my brain and on paper. They all have their own ways of handling fiesty omega Neteyam but they can agree on one thing and that is he is the perfect omega for them.
I was working on this story a lot today and now I am finally getting into the middle of smut. Right now I only have this as a one shot but honestly I have a list of ideas for a follow up too, so we we'll see.
Thanks for asking, baby!
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mins-fins · 1 year
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ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky ricky
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bigbutchgothgirl · 7 months
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Deep in the fields of an unfathomable Garden. A miniscule Acolyte walks through the flowers. It is in the Garden. It is of the Garden. It is rich with sweetness of flowers and the smell of wet earth. It picks flowers, the severed stems mark its passing.
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(not me starting to make a flower-obsessed lucent hive OC on a whim not at aaaall >.>)
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briskythesovietspy · 2 years
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Joel // Sick & Dangerous Tour 2022 [Part 2/4]
Photos taken by me in Vienna 28/09, Krakow 30/09 & Warsaw 01/10
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nothing-behindher-eyes · 11 months
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guys kiss the girl from little mermaid literally had me gripping the theater chairs pls gof let jonah hauer king give me 10 minutes
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eachlittlebird · 1 year
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Embrace
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A little character study fic I wrote about Mayday, everybody’s new favorite Clone. No warnings, except for introspection and foreshadowing and general angst. ;)
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Mayday held two contradictory sentiments in his head simultaneously. Fortunately, he had survived the war. Unfortunately, survival had brought him here.
Here being Barton-4, where freezing one’s ass off was the primary recreation. He was cold when he rolled out of his bunk in the morning, frozen through when he returned to it at night. He spent the long hours of darkness wrestling with his standard-issue blanket, trying to work it around his body in a way that held in the most heat. Between sleep and wakefulness he half-remembered, half-dreamed the embrace of an azure-skinned Twi’lek he’d met one off-duty evening at 79s. Again and again he conjured her: his fingertips tracing the spiral patterns on her flesh, her soft laughter like a summer breeze against his ear. He woke with empty arms, her remembered warmth leaving him all the colder until daybreak.
And it wasn’t just the cold. It was the stultifying boredom, the sameness of every hour. There were two colors on Barton-4: the black of night and the white of day, a weak and blurry sunlight filtered through a screen of driving snow. The dull eggshell of Imperial supply containers, the dirty ecru of their battered plastoid armor, and the grey rags they used to bind up busted greaves and pauldrons, an extra buffer against the chill. Save for the distant screams of the ice vultures and the howl of the wind through clefts in the cliff wall, there was an absence of sound too on Barton-4. Sometimes the silence was so overwhelming Mayday feared he’d spontaneously lost his hearing, the way he had temporarily after explosions in the war.
The war. Nonsensical as it would have seemed in the midst of it, Mayday missed the conflict, all its noise and movement and brilliant, blinding heat. The deafening roar of LAAT/i engines as they slowed to swoop over combat zones, the thump-thump-thump of mortar rounds still reverberating in one’s bones hours later, the shriek of missiles and the staccato march of battle droid feet, relentlessly closing in. He hungered for the war’s kaleidoscope of colors: the shattered glass and glowing plasma signs of besieged cities, empty landscapes lit by multiple suns or moons. He’d oriented himself in the midst of firefights by the blazing arc of a Jedi’s saber cutting through smoke-thick air, and had seen his brothers fall by explosions too bright for even his helmet’s filters to dim. Upon the snow-white cliffs of Barton-4 his memory painted the green walls of skyscrapers on Christophsis and the lurid orange and purple jungles of Felucia, and in the darkness of his bunk, the tender blue of that Twi’lek’s bare skin.
What had her name been? It was on the tip of his tongue but each time he tried to whisper it, the name retreated deeper into his maze of memories.
Yeah, kriff it all, Mayday missed it. The moments preceding the plunge into combat, the massed bodies of his brothers, armor knocking against armor, bluster and bravado passing nervously along the line. Some of the best jokes he’d ever heard had been told in those moments when life and death hung with equal odds in the balance, and he still laughed aloud whenever they came to mind. Adrenaline had pumped enough heat through his body to melt the ice off a tauntaun’s pelt, and there’d been times when it had kept him running, kept him fighting, kept him hauling up injured brothers and pulling them to safety long past the normal limits of endurance. There had been something intoxicating about the way life teetered on the edge of every moment, and seemed more precious for that precariousness.
Sure, they had the raiders here on Barton-4, their hit-and-run incursions triggering honed survival instincts. Some of the men had relaxed these too much in the dullness of the mission and they’d paid for it with their lives. The raiders had whittled down their numbers until only Mayday, Veetch, and Hexx remained. Something vital was missing now, something that had invigorated the men during the war with the Separatists, shielding them as surely as their plastoid armor. Purpose. A sense that their sacrifices and suffering mattered for the greater good. It was as absent from Barton-4 as color and sound.
She’d fit as snugly and comfortably in his hands as his DC-15 blaster, her heartbeat echoing in his chest like the recoil of a shot. All tender curves and whispers and the natural perfume of mutual attraction. The heat of their bodies, pressed together, had been sweeter than any artificial warmth generated by a machine. The danger of combat made him feel alive, but touch gave that life meaning. 
Waking up from another dream of the Twi’lek, the need Mayday had felt so long on Barton-4 finally crystallized in his mind. He missed the proximity of his brothers. On Barton-4, he and his remaining men spent most of their hours apart, covering distant parts of the compound, and when downtime came they snuggled up to the portable heating unit, not each other. But during the war, a clone longed in vain for breathing space. His brothers were always around him, in the corridors of cruisers, in the lines of defensive trenches. In mess halls and crowded quarters dozens of variations of the same face and body rubbed elbows and bumped heads. Sometimes egos collided and punches were thrown, but in the end there was never a doubt that your brother had your back, and you had his. In the darkest, most desperate fights, Mayday remembered with a stab of fierce affection the comforting pressure of a brother’s arm slung over his shoulders, the reassuring clasp of a brother’s hand. Carrying a wounded brother to safety had been the best of duties; holding a dying brother in one’s arms the greatest of honors. Backs slapped in celebration, elbows jabbed into ribs in shared conspiracy, shoulders offered to support a weary brother’s head: a thousand kinds of touches, more vital to sustaining the clones through the war than rations or armor or blaster power packs.
Sleepless with cold, Mayday would lie in his bunk and wonder if he and Veetch and Hexx would ever make it off that cold rock, ever slip through the stars to walk once more under temperate suns. Would they ever be surrounded by their brothers again, jostled by their rowdy carousing, drawn into their high-spirited pranks? Would they ever feel the comfort of that camaraderie shared by beings as close in temperament and experience to themselves as any being could possibly be?
Mayday wasn’t sure. In fact, sometimes he doubted it. But he did know that he would trade every beautiful blue-skinned Twi’lek in the galaxy for one brother’s embrace.
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Shocking no one, my top artist last year was also Taylor Swift.
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snailslament · 1 year
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I was on vacation this last week and brought my teeny tiny pocket sketchbook with me, these are some little sketches I did of Elliott Smith, my pencil ran out of lead so the bottom two are straight in w pen and a little jank but thats fine :)
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