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#bring your friends
markmefistov · 9 months
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I’m 19 people away from 2k followers
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semiotomatics · 1 year
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it is criminal that people are sleeping on Strange World
criminal
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redysetdare · 12 days
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enough stories about how someone learns to truely be happy through love. i want a story where someone is desperately seeking out love thinking it's the only way to be happy only for them to learn by the end that happiness is what they make of it and they don't need love at all to make it.
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minionsunclee · 2 months
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Nothing I could get my rocks off to
Anyway kind of ironic that it’s called downtime when it’s always the most stressful part of the season
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kimquatz · 4 days
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doodled a quick sea goat jishen for mermay teehee 🎣 ^_^
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gunsatthaphan · 8 months
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👁️👄👁️.
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introspectivememories · 3 months
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nah because crofty is genuinely insane because why would you say that about your coworker???? and to his face??? "this man knows lewis hamilton. friends, teammates, childhood buddies, rivals, everything but a lover." hello???? why are you saying that to nico rosberg's face???? why are you, as the lead f1 commentator, writing fanfiction about your coworker???? about him and his ex???? and also, what an insane thing to say about someone else's relationship!!! "everything but a lover"... just show them having gay sex onscreen, it would be less intimate than whatever the hell you just said.
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bif-skn · 2 years
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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best BEAST!!
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mysteriousmoss · 4 months
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God hearing that Jellie has passed makes me feel so bad for scar. Losing a pet you’ve had for years and have grown so so close to that they are your best friend and anchor is such a blow to you. Grieving over the death of a pet hell a loved one of which you were close to is hard. Some times it lessens and never truly leaves you.
Scar can take as much time off as he wants to process this. Lost of a pet is what I believe is to be a very traumatic event in peoples lives.
My condolences to Scar and his family. Jellie will be missed but not forgotten. She lives on in the history of Scars channel and the hearts of all the fandom members.
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canisalbus · 1 month
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You mentioned before that the people who would have access to Machete's bedchamber would likely already know about Vasco. How did that come up in your mind? Did they get caught in the act or was the subject broached with enough trust? How did those people handle it? Sorry if this is a bit vague but I thought about it today and I'm very interested. :)
I think it just has to be the case, I can't imagine how they could manage to hide the fact Vasco is bunking with him from everyone, for years and years. Machete doesn't live alone, he has staff and servants who do his housekeeping and run his errands. Even if Vasco didn't stay there for any extended periods of time and snuck out the back door to avoid attention, I'm assuming at least the people who do his laundry and change his sheets would eventually detect that some sort of funny business had happened. But the number of people who are in on it is still very very small and tightly controlled. His assistant Vittorio definitely knows and helps to manage this situation, so does his personal doctor, and on top of that maybe a handful of most trusted high-ranking emplyees, which he has vetted extremely carefully and pays handsomely for their discreetness and prudence.
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tenisperfection · 18 days
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7x04 being from Buck's perspective broke my brain because of the way we saw Eddie through Buck's eyes. Then I realized that Suspicion, where Eddie was shot, was from Eddie's perspective, and all of Surviviors was from Buck's perspective and I want to jump into the ocean.
#the implications......#we saw eddie's turmoil when carla brought up the follow your heart line#his agony over charlie's abuse#then the shooting and watching his best friend splattered with his blood#that split second where he realized who buck was to him and has been all along#the way he wanted to reach out and touch buck one last time#(do not think about eddie thinking about chris under any circumstances but if you do imagine eddie feeling relieved that buck will be there#and sorrow that he won't be there with chris and won't get to see him grow up and won't get to see buck#and then we have survivors right#we immediately jump to buck's perspective with him getting eddie into the ambulance and eddie asking if buck was hurt *sobs*#and the whole episode is mostly buck's side#but so is the will scene!!!!#because we obviously went nuts over the implications of it#but consider the tone of the scene--there's devotion yes#but most of the tone is that of disbelief#because buck can't believe eddie did this and eddie didn't tell him and eddie is telling him now#and eddie wants buck to carry on for christopher if eddie is gone#and buck absolutely would#but in his mind he can't fathom a world where he has to exist without eddie#and eddie is the one asking him to#hahahahah fuck you don't find it son you make it all over again#buck made this and buck chose this and buck has to live with it#i can't wait for these men to realize/bring to light all the love between them#911 abc#this unraveling on a saturday afternoon is brought to you by insanity
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coffincanary · 11 months
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I hate shipping discourse but
I see so many antishippers say "Oh we're the normal ones" but then post shit like "to any proshipper reading this I will eat your teeth, tie you to the front of my car and drive head on into a brick wall"
I'm sorry but I don't think you're normal sir what the fuck
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hai7ani · 2 months
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breaking your favourite pair of heels after a really long and stressful day at work, so you cry to fwb!rindou over the phone out of impulse, and when he picks you up from work, he takes you back to his and he fucks the sadness out of you. but you fall asleep after sex and when you wake up in the middle of the night you find him awake, half naked in his living room, fixing your broken pair of heel because you'd told him once it was gifted to your late mother by your dad who makes shoes for a living, and was later passed down to you after her death.
"i don't like seeing you so sad." rindou mumbles when you hold your now fixed shoes close to your chest before climbing into his lap to weep.
"all fixed. now smile a little, yeah? for me?"
os ventos do amor | my fwb!rindou does things to me.
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asafeplaceforus112 · 4 months
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I currently just feel so overwhelmed by cleaning
Does anyone have any ADHD cleaning tips?
Rant below
I have no clue on how to fix this but I'm sick of having no space and being treated by my parents like I'm a slob
You know even though they never bothered to teach me how to clean, how they clean is based on their dopamine "time to do this task now" and how I've never lived in a clean house my whole
I just feel so frustrated
Currently my brain thinks that if I get storage (because I do not, and it resulted in me just having shit everywhere)
I just feel so frustrated and it's keeping me awake and I just want to sleep and not think about this
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willowser · 1 year
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the day of the opening, you text izuku thirteen times.
most of which are met exactly how you'd hoped, in a way that should settle the nerves steadily brewing in your gut:
izuku: i will be there @ 7pm sharp!! ( =^ω^)
izuku: did you finish your speech yet?? we can go over it in the car otw!!
izuku: i'm going to grab flowers??? (///∇///) idk if that's okay?? but it's a big night!!! i think you deserve them!!!!
you should be relieved at his excitement, appeased enough to know that he has plans, that he's looking forward to this, too. genuine promise threads his words—and yet you only feel the pinpricks of doubt.
when he doesn't show, you try not to take it to heart. it's not his fault, you tell yourself, angry that you're angry. the life of a pro-hero is a whirlwind, and after knowing izuku for so long, one would think you'd become accustomed to the sound of his voice-mail and the rain check any and all events are given.
maybe it hurts so much worse this time because he didn't show up and he didn't call. didn't answer, either.
maybe it hurts because you're standing in front of the vision of all might in acrylics, your painting style soaking through the canvas; alive in his creases and curves. despite the fact that this is your first time in a gallery opening, ever, you think you were more looking forward to izuku's enthusiasm, than having your face in the local paper.
your smile feels tight across your mouth, as thick and forced as all might's. you hope it doesn't show through either of you on camera.
what would you say your biggest motivator is?
you take a long pause before answering, reminding yourself to rid your speech of any unplanned uh's and um's, and when what you've recited slips off your tongue, you can hear the words crashing into the hardwood below. shattering.
"the truth is that i wouldn't be here without the support of my best friend—"
(in the movies, this is when izuku would come bursting through the gallery doors, sweaty and disheveled in a suit jacket too large for his shoulders despite how broad they've become. people would be awed by the sight of him, glittering in the remnants of his emerald lightning, and he would turn to find you across the floor and he'd smile sheepishly, apologetically, and say—)
"the parking y've got here is shit."
but it's not izuku. it's bakugou.
it's impossible to have grown up with one and not the other, but—where izuku was quirkless—you were a girl, and that made you even more detestable. you weren't invited to any of his sleepovers or birthday parties at the arcade, and his nose always wrinkled at the sight of you and your pink butterfly clips, the dresses your mother loved to doll you up in.
even now, you see him and a strike of fear jolts your heart, instinctive, after watching the beat-down your best friend endured for so long. the only thing that softens him in this moment, for the first time, is the black, mock turtleneck he's wearing, and the bouquet of pale red carnations in his hand.
immediately, the interested party in front of your exhibition is stolen by him, dynamight, though his face twists hideously as they make to crowd him. you know that look, all too well, and you steel yourself for the bite of his words as he snaps at them.
"alright, alright, get the fuck outta my face before i blast all this frilly art shit to hell."
your anger spikes, fed by his own, though you can feel yourself shrinking behind the red-hot look he gives you, snuffed out as quickly as you'd caught ablaze. why, you wonder, why of all people would it have to be him? if this is izuku's way of apologizing, you'd rather have struggled through the event alone.
he stomps when he walks, like an overgrown child, and when he comes to stand in front of you and your small display, he doesn't even offer the flowers he's holding. instead he considers your work with a frown, eyes darting to and fro without so much as an inkling of enthusiasm. and then he takes in you, too—the soft cotton sweater you're wearing, the way you cup the sleeves with your fingers—with just as much disinterest.
and then he says, "thought you were s'pposed to have five pieces."
you were, but you and your nerves pushed your final painting to the last minute, and then you couldn't get any of the colors right, nor the movement. it was choppy and ugly and you hated it—and so you'd just gone without.
but you're not going to tell him that.
"what are you doing here?"
again, his face twists, as if he's sucking on a lemon. "doesn't exactly sound like a 'thank you', for showing up to your—whatever the hell it is."
"it's an art show, don't act dumb," you frown as he sucks his teeth and turn your stare to the flowers, how they're already wilting. petals drooping. your eyes sting as you look back up at him. "where's—"
"the hell do you think?"
it's not his fault, you tell yourself—but your anger has gone, blown out with the wind. the loneliness that always comes after letdowns like these joins you, faithful in its ache. you wrap your arms around yourself and step back further from him, forcing yourself to look away, at the other artists, so that maybe he won't see the gloss in your eyes.
it surprises you, what he says next: "...shitty nerd would be here if he could."
"i know," you say, defensive suddenly, like you always are with him when it comes to izuku. the bite in your tone deepens his frown and he, too, eyes the flowers. he holds them up wordlessly, handing them off to you with more care than you could have ever expected from him. "thank you for bringing these," you murmur.
bakugou shrugs, shoulders hiking up in a way that is as foreign to you as the light pink dust settling over his cheekbones. "don't know shit about flowers, so. whatever. congrats, i guess."
you frown again, brow crinkling. "but—izuku knows, doesn't he? he told you what to get, right?"
"what?" bakugou's nose twists, suddenly seven years old and offended by your proximity. "ain't talked to the fucker all night, just heard the call over the radio 'fore i left."
"wait, what?" you blink and take a step towards him, without thinking, and the action has him rolling his eyes up to the ceiling. cheeks darker, you think, in the low ambient light. "how—did you know to come then?"
and when he looks back at you, eyes molten and metallic, you think it's maybe not offense in his stare, but something else you've never seen on him. "nerd's been talkin' about it all week." he shrugs, and what he says next feels like an answer to more than just this question, here. "came on my own."
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