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#ava winters
screensland · 3 months
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Obliterated, Season One (2023-).
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neverscreens · 3 months
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— SHELLEY HENNIG IN OBLITERATED, S01.
The Real American Heroes, 292 Screencaps.
Born in the U.S.S.R., 221 Screencaps.
Craps, 149 Screencaps.
Walks of Shame, 124 Screencaps.
Shots! Shots! Shots!, 140 Screencaps.
From Vegas with Love, 189 Screencaps.
Make it Rain, 222 Screencaps.
Last Call, 273 Screencaps.
All in GALLERY. Like or reblog if it was useful, every interaction shows us that we should keep making screencaps for y'all ♡
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nymoshopper · 4 months
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OH MY FUCKING SHIT, WHAT WAS THIS OBLITERATED EP 1?! McKNIGHT'S FUCK WITH WINTERS, HOLY GOD
(It's exactly how I imagine Johnny having sex with anyone would be)
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bestmoviesnitflix · 4 months
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Obliterated
A special forces team thwarts a deadly plot in Sin City and parties accordingly. But when the real threat emerges, they must sober up to save Las Vegas.
Starring:Shelley Hennig, Nick Zano, Terrence Terrell
Creators:Jon Hurwitz, Hayden Schlossberg, Josh Heald
Watch the Latest Movies Online for Free. Enjoy subbed or dubbed Movies in ultra HD quality without any registration or paym ent. Link:
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cecilvessel · 4 months
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HI TUMBLR im new here kind of….. i draw jrwi and ocs and whateevr i want to x)) mostly pd lately. here’s some of my art!!!!
my twt is @evilevilcecil
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jijjmoon · 3 months
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House
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real peaceful day
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robix9 · 4 months
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There are 16 days left until the New Year
A little preparation for the Rainbow gang and their friends
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photofi · 8 months
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CHEF WINTER, MY BELOVED! NEW CHARACTER DROPPED AND IM CLAIMING HIM
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flowerbarrel-art · 4 months
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“Longest night, longest night, sky so dark, but stars so bright.”
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falling-skyzz · 3 months
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Hi!!! I think your wings of fire art is so cool and I aspire to be as good as you. Could you do a qinterwatcher (qibli, winter and moon) ship art? Or maybe just them together if you would prefer. Thank you!
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proportions r all over the place sorry
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nomoretumbler · 10 months
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im sorry.
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cottageivy · 1 day
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ava in the winter, when she runs into carter after their summer together...
ending lesbian visibilty week on a high note by finally posting some ava pics again <3
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lockescoles · 2 years
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THUNDERBOLTS - JULY 26TH 2024
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Prompt: “please stay”
it's rained more lately in los angeles than you ever imagined it would; you've been to the desert and lived through a summer here, the haze in the air and mirage on the pavement and a few days where it just never cooled off. but it's dreary and damp lately, parts of the city flooding, puddles everywhere. cold winds have blown in overnight, swathes of loose palm bark in your yard when you had looked outside.
it's still cold and stormy; the sea, you're sure, is angry outside — grey and infinite in its depth. most days, the wonder of the world sits in your wrists, in the junctures there, in the small bones beatrice knows all the names of. most days, the wonder is in everything: the orange poppies blooming along the hillside, and the perfect amount of lime in good guacamole, and the way beatrice tastes like cinnamon when you kiss her in the afternoon, lazily, like you've always had time.
but some days it sits heavy along your spine: you spent an eternity — eight months, earthside, but you don't know how to measure that, not really — in darkness, in nothingness, in white space so bright your eyes burned.
you didn't sleep, or eat, not like here. the halo in your back burnt and burnt and burnt, and the divinium through your organs, taken out by unknown hands, had left gaping, excruciating wounds, which eventually, because you stayed so, so still, turned into painful, barely-healed scars, half shrapnel, half burn. there was nothing, and you were nothing, and you missed your mom and your sisters and your friends and beatrice, with her steady shoulders and her reluctant laugh and her gold eyes.
it's still dark, still early, the dawn inky blue outside, stretching as a bruise against the pale skin of the sand. you roll over in your big bed — safe, piled with a soft white linen duvet; a mattress that beatrice had ordered specifically for your spine after consulting jillian and then making a spreadsheet of pros and cons between different brands and models — and take a deep breath. it's here, and it's now, you remind yourself, touch your fingers to the worst of the divinium scars, puckered along your right ribs. you place the palm of your hand against the worst of it, the opposite of stigmata, maybe, and breathe into it, let your chest expand all the way into your belly, all the way down your spine, filling your heartspace.
and then you look at beatrice, the duvet down around the middle of her bare back. the tan of her skin from the sun, the black tattoo down her spine, her hair — short and dark and messy — and the peaceful planes of her face, delicate despite it all. calm, and unworried, the bow of her lips and the freckles across her cheeks. she had told you, excitedly last night, how incredible the swells were supposed to be this morning, because of the storm, but you look at her and you think of riptides and not being able to swim and how this world, this life, bold and bright, wouldn't be much different for you than nothingness if anything happened to her. if she wasn't here with you, to eat really good ramen and grumble her way through terrible movies and steadfastly do the laundry.
you scoot closer to her, drape an arm across her waist and kiss between her shoulder blades. you've learned that bea is easy to awaken but almost impossible to really wake up when she feels relaxed and safe — but sometimes you think you know each other differently than anyone, a familiarity that has saved the world a few times over. in one of the classes you audited — philosophy, which had mostly been awful and full of gross white dudes — you had learned that recognize meant, really, to know again. to know again, and again, and again, like the veins mapped across the backs of your hands or the hue of a lover's eyes.
she stirs and blinks awake, slowly, and there they are: brown, so smart, with flecks of gold that light up in the sun, that you know even in the dark dawn.
'ava, are you okay?'
her voice is rough with sleep and slow and beautiful. you're so, so greedy, wanting this life and the next with her. you wouldn't renounce it for anything. kingdoms and realms could fall at your feet before you said anything of the sort.
'please don't go surfing this morning.' your voice is a little wobbly and she shifts onto her side, fully, to face you, concern etching a line between her brows. she looks around blearily, her features and posture sharpening in a split second.
'did something happen?'
'no,' you say, and leave the but something could alone; something always could. instead, 'i just — it's stormy, and i want to sleep in with you here.' let me love you like this, you think, and press your lips to the scar on her shoulder before you rest your forehead against hers, run a gentle hand through her hair. let me keep you safe. let me keep you warm, in this room in this bed in this house in this city of angels where nothing can hurt you, where i won't let anything touch you, not ever again. let me wake up to you again and again and again.
she doesn't fully believe you, that it's nothing, but she relents easily enough, trusting that you'll tell her if you need.
'please stay.'
she sighs, kisses you, touches the same scar against your ribs. 'okay,' she says, just like that, and you breathe into the palm of her hand.
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jijjmoon · 5 months
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Snowy day
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It snowed today where I live
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irisbaggins · 5 months
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Spoilers ahead, y'all!
Whilst I did make a post about timelines and possible magic and extension of life, somehow, the simple explanation escaped me completely. Especially as someone who lives in Norway, where Winter is half of the year.
When were Lila and Jaysohn born, if they knew their dad half their life? Early Winter. Geoffrey probably died sometime right before Spring, where the snow is still thick and the air still freezing. Let's say, if the plot of the story takes place in September-October, Geoffrey died in March-April, with the kids born around December-January. It would, actually, explain everything. We know, from Viola, that these stoats don't follow normal stoat mating patterns; Viola is having her kids in Autumn. Therefore, who's to say Tula couldn't have Lila and Jaysohn in Winter? They're sapient creatures, who can think and plan. We also get the small glimpse that Tula knows that they may have some control over when they get pregnant, but not always. Who's to say it didn't happen to her, too? What if, that Winter was where Tula gained so much, and nearly lost everything in one moment.
Although, I still believe Ava is overestimating her own age just so she can get away with more things.
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