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#twish
u-g-h-reblogs · 2 years
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dawnvolta · 2 years
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twitch
G Darius HD scrub gameplay come help me
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kidfoundonstreets · 1 year
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washes my hands washes my hands washes my hands
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stevegasnsip · 10 months
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the thing is personally I like my misogyny music to have misogyny in it, like yeah "once a whore you're nothing more I'm sorry that will never change" isn't nice and it is unfair, but it’s not like Hayley Williams doesn't know that? I mean people shamed her into not singing the song for years even though it's one of paramore's more well known songs, and even thought it was unfair, it wasn't a wrong depiction of how she felt when the song was written. Because sometimes we feel thing that are wrong and unfair towards others, because that's part of the human experience
"She's better known for the things that she does on the mattress" is mean and maybe unfair and if Taylor Swift made a statement addressing why currently she wouldn't write that lyric I'd be like cool, love that for you Taylor, but the point of the re recordings isn't to correct her past grievances with her music. I don't want new songs I want the same songs. The point is to get the same songs. Changing the lyric doesn't actually so anything aside from making the song less fun to sing. Idk why so many of you act like Taylor Swift is some kind of paragon of virtue, she does have the capacity to be mean and unfair, sometimes the music is better because she's being mean and unfair, better than revenge was literally written to be mean and hurtful that anyone ever expected fair lyrics from that song is laughable
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muzdiir · 7 months
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ok i like being able to tell that i have a fever w/o needing a thermometer but i dislike actually having the fever
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maryn-jpeg55 · 11 months
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Twish
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danjaley · 7 months
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Alice: Are you by any chance a bigamist?
Matthew: Have you losht your min’?! It wash nexsht ‘o im’oshible ‘o find one wife! How ‘o you exshpect me ‘o have managed twishe!?
Alice: There you see, James. And now I want you to apologize to Mr McCarric. In the light of what you just told me, it was him condescending to take me. I’m very sorry to have caused you so much anxiety. But my husband says we should always think for ourselves and I think I made the right choice.
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deadweightwritings · 5 months
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MARCH. TWD S4. [snippet]
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TWD + Dixon!Reader [S4 Spoilers]
МАРШ - IC3PEAK
YOU CAN’T SEE THE HORIZON BEYOND THESE FENCES.
“Liar.” TWISH. The flying noise of the speared weapon. A squelching sound of an arrow meeting skin echoed on the field. The katana stayed in the Governor’s hand, never meeting Hershel’s neck. Merlot blood squirted and pooled down the Governor’s face, straight from the arrow hanging out the front of his forehead. His body sank to the ground and dropped dead.
“Dead before they hit t’ground. Jus’ how I like it.” Kit whispered to herself in the trees as she prepared to aim again.
Everyone on his side looked behind them, and there was no one to be seen. Kit likes to fuck people up from the trees. Nobody moved as their leader was just shot dead from a fucking shadow in the woods behind them. Now or never, Dixon. Flicking down the welding helmet for protection, Kit strapped her weapons in and dropped to the ground. As everyone on either side of the fence stood still, a roar of a motorcycle echoed across the field.
“Hershel! Michonne! Duck!”
Straight out of the wood shot Kit Dixon on her uncle’s motor vehicle. A machete in her hand, a belt of bombs ready to chuck, and hell of a vendetta. Hershel and Michonne hit the ground below them. Her arm flung out to bite under the mask and roll two grenades below the tanks and cars settled on that side of the fence.
BOOM.  
The blast of the explosion almost knocked her off the motorcycle as she veered around, back to Rick on the other side and facing the damage in front of her. 2 of the 3 tanks are on their side or on fire, the ground is smoked to all hell. And people are dead in piles.
Michonne is already equipped with her sword, and throws a rifle to Hershel as she helps him up once the smoke clears.
“KIT!” Screams Rick, and she whirls her head to face him and sees him pointing frantically to her left and right. Two cars are coming toward her hot. Her hand finds her trusty pistol and in three shots, she shoots the two front tires out and the windshield. There’s gunfire all around her and the car to her left is taken out by her dad and Maggie. She looks beyond and finds one tank coming straight at her.
“GET THE FUCK OUTTA THERE!” Daryl’s voice splays through the field, anger and worry carrying his voice. Revving up Merle’s ride, she looked at the hole in the fence that lead to her people and her dad, whilst the other lead to Hershel and Michonne. Releasing the clutch, she swerved around the tank, the main gun pivoted to follow her movement and her heart jumped. Not a cool way to go out, Dixon. Kit started swaying in her path, making a ‘Z’ in the way she was riding toward Hershel. Kit knows a modern tank can turn 360 degrees but goes against all odds and bolts to get her people. An explosion sounds behind her, and she knows one of the towers had been knocked clean down. Huffing, she’s still cruising to victory.
Pounding of adrenaline in her veins kept her flying towards the pair surrounded by the dead she killed, skidding to a stop, she motioned for the two to climb on. Michonne refused, wanting to take care of the walker’s about to sprout up. Hershel got on the back of her motorcycle, arms around her and she sped off. Hold on, Hershel. Kit pivoted so hard she though she would have tipped them both over, she rocketed to the hole in the fence where her dad was crouched, shooting a machine gun like no one’s business. She felt a bullet ricochet off the motorcycle and peered behind her, seeing a man with a rifle and shot him point blank with a pistol. POW.
Sliding past the broken fence, she skidded to a stop, kicking up dust as Beth and Maggie got to Hershel’s side. Kit sadly let the vehicle tip to the dirt as another explosion hit a wall behind her, throwing her through the air, into the fence. CRASH.
“Kit!” Ripped through Daryl’s throat. 20 second’s pass. Dazed and confused, Kit blink’s as she tastes dirt and blood in her mouth. Half the world is blocked out by her shot down ear from childhood. She barely hears that man call and scream for her, as ringing and pops fill her senses. Kit rolls onto her back, blood running down her forehead into one of her eyes as she winced and hissed. She still saw the blue sky above. Man, I’m beat. The eyelids flicker over the stone-colored eyes and—
“Girl, you get ter yer feet right this instance! I ain’t gonna ask you twice!” The loudest fucking voice just ripped through both her ears, yes both, and Kit shot up. Merle stood over her, hands on his beltloops and sour look on his face, she was sure he was going to spit at her, looking so pathetic.
“To hell wit you if you think you can die after a stunt like that, honey!” She swore to whatever God above that he grabbed her by her shoulders and hoisted her up to her feet, ears and body buzzing. After that she found her legs stumbling for cover,
“That’s it, Kit, keep walkin’.” The world around her was made out of blurry blocks, shit shooting everywhere and almost no noise reaching her ear. Except her uncle yelling at her.
“Grab the rifle, grab a weapon, dammit girl!” Reaching for her back, she messily swung the rifle to her front, nearly losing her grip of the gun. Kit felt a weight on her shoulder, and she liked to think it was Merle guiding her dazed ass through the prison grounds. Kit shook her head multiple time, trying to see straight but it didn’t do shit. Why is Merle here? Where’s my dad? Where’s Rick? Where’s anybody?
“To your left, kid!” Whipping to that direction, her eyesight fully locked on 3 walkers charging toward her. Lining the weapon up, she fired. BANG. BANG. BANG. Those three shots nearly made her black out, Kit is so fucking exhausted. The way she moved, she told herself she practically looked like a walker. Almost made her laugh out loud.
“Good girl, Kit. You better stay alive, missy.” Those words made her blink hard, hearing her uncle’s voice say that to her, caused her to wake up. Still dragging her feet, she jogged to where the fence was—BOOM. A wave of boiling heat washed over her face, as if she wasn’t already fucked up right now. There’s fire and smoke coming out of a tank, and she sees the dirty angel wings on the back of a jacket. Now she’s running to them. She’s next to them and her dad whirls around,
“Jesus Christ, Kit!” He grabs her ashen arm and pulls her along, her feet slap against the ground because she’s so weary and everything is wishy-washy. They dodge, duck and shoot their way through until they run into Beth.
“Maggie! Have you seen her, Daryl, Kit?!”
“No, Beth, we have to go! We gotta go!” Kit slings her arm around Beth’s shoulder’s, making her duck as they bolt out of the prison and into the woods. The crunch of the leaves hit their boots, they’re not worried about being quiet, they’re worried about surviving through this war the Governor brought on. The quarry is split even further, and Kit doesn’t know if they will ever reconvene after this hell.  
You better stay alive, missy.
WHO IS OUT THERE IN THE STREETS BESIDES THE COLD?
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kame-dori · 2 years
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A birthday gift for @monsterkissed !​
Enjoy the twish ヾ(•ω•`)o
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nothingplusthings · 7 months
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Bess Twishes
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to4886 · 1 year
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but you said you'll always be here for me?
Twish, 2023
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libidomechanica · 1 year
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For slippeak; ind talled, and woops up from hee too see, eten
Is breaster your, and, and she that fret now them, weetst dust use; we no aroung
chame: ther’s been Praists snake the kiss, all downe, thers o’ play stil sun: non. Less,
not flage wing, thand morturning powerest. For slippeak; ind talled, and
woops up from hee too see, eten on my ming is too, not to in to
thee new will rigmage drea’s King invel it remore—not back had bed yieldom.
God quarth Crown’s voicell here of Poles, streatsoever althout outh, th’d is
experposit will the manhabit enor agone, but wed to the
divine, and like greath adown down fat smishe fromened caused was pled, myrrhorth
over so den, readfast ring the choir for comewhat am
grown, she skye, let still thate, Ancome fation me or youndement, the gain;
I he rough, nor contry did scrame at thunded tu-which violly blace: mour
have: but I decred needeside, and glute closophand breams, as it we
comes they mighs. Fault rease? My twish. And beneath city; One chauen ture, and have
drown my est from when we excussly powestreedeside which and
yet knew, and brigitart teart doth leave acreak his yet know my say betic
made timbs, I she born! And us: his died. Why, he body. What was
thould and nothe shake good, and, tillaste hole Pring elden that a suddescent
angreato sike to keep glimpleepenable refooth toad, acreof thine.
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toxictac · 1 year
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While i have never been too much of the "true" fan of saint seiya, because i havent seen more than the og series (and the movies), it really does have soft stop in my dead heart, i do wish it got remade because there is a lot of cool stuff you could improve and the series has a lot of potencial... not that matters if all we care is to recrated the 12 temples arc but enough with my salt. i based this desing on the og hercules cloth from the original but i tried to give it a little twish to make it work like the tiara in the original movie of broly where it seals the power of the cloth which gives the user instence power boost in exchange for making you a bloodlust monster (pretty similar to the hera cursed from the original part of the heracles story) (also i kinda fuck the proporcions on the last one but i still like the idea)
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leeminlikesdaises · 2 years
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twish vent
im not getting better. im having one of those nights, where all i want to do is cry, everything makes me cry, looking at food makes me want to throw up, my scars make me start sobbing, i dont want to be touched yet i crave to be hugged, i cant stomach food, i cant talk about my feeling because they make me cry, my mind isnt in the right place.
im not getting better.
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twishgrae · 2 years
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Color-wise, I prefer purple.
Why?
Merely because. According to my aunt, purple connotes having a powerful aura on the exterior but fragile within. Your mind wanders a lot as a result of the color's inherent ability to reflect chaos. It quickly became my favorite after hearing that. Purple represent me.
- Twish Grae
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444names · 2 years
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the entire middle quenya dictionary
Abitende Abour Abunda Admir Aging Aikes Alassembly Anaina Andalic Andchamma Andefore Anders Apper Arakkaima Arino Armerlest Astale Astick Ataltanta Aught Bable Banda Basea Batto Bearu Behindreal Bline Blosel Blossbare Blother Brangole Breace Breatell Broan Brotto Broupina Buile Builed Captible Cative Caust Cendave Certaima Chroan Circu Cleftaima Clustle Color Colosse Commerge Compen Conce Confire Contalta Contry Coppende Coriter Creasunde Creat Creed Creshook Croof Cycleft Darie Darinome Dealie Decioural Decling Declive Demotect Descenda Deser Diang Diant Diphto Divinya Divity Dower Dredden Earing Eastingday Ehtake Ehtya Endeed Enfolk Enkelust Entle Erous Erture Espeech Ettle Everinkill Existe Existem Extending Faile Familka Familme Farallower Farmata Fastay Fauko Fenchaic Findaring Flash Flexisto Flingerme Floom Flust Footin Fortal Fortarra Fortreate Fount Fraise Frauka Fression Frieningle Frosse Fírime Gatima Glasse Glina Glittened Gobligency Goblinded Gorgency Goverst Grambe Grastorya Grees Gyrative Halangwet Haldumete Hambe Hamno Handfulla Handsonge Hantan Hased Haved Haveste Heapon Hearlittle Heature Hiter Hlikelumet Holle Hollen Horato Horsa Horted Horti Humbaróna Huntilta Hwinki Hyale Hyande Hyaro Iblester Ility Imallumba Imartalk Imber Inarka Incele Insman Insword Intea Intelko Inter Isible Ising Isonife Kalar Kalea Kalumba Karailik Karing Kelinder Kelingday Kening Kinde Kingate Kirkant Knoting Kotyalm Kulusse Laina Lamber Landle Langa Lannesse Lapsar Larging Larkas Laste Lemna Lepsa Lianta Liantenea Likeline Lilóte Limagine Linding Linye Liruiten Litter Localiages Loned Longe Looselenke Lopotunat Loved Lowish Lupper Maging Mainbowing Makale Makarather Maling Malóra Manual Marki Marte Mattime Matéma Measurya Melie Melle Mereneak Minissea Mirity Mission Mitse Motect Nahteennot Naita Nakeninqe Namára Nandance Nassorna Nature Nemesting Neration Niksa Nissue Norna Norse Nortickins Noting Nuisan Nwale Nwarmo Olina Omanhook Onlinda Onotalive Ontampana Ontrance Onóre Oppearen Palma Pander Paner Parch Parcher Paruima Passe Perall Perfly Permo Persty Plack Planing Pleave Plumba Polasse Polde Poresse Porigh Posse Powdrop Prise Prissa Probabe Prous Pupse Qantal Qanteler Qelen Qelline Qentaina Qilianta Qiling Qingsfist Quary Quende Quice Rading Rambe Ramme Ranceal Rastea Reated Rected Regulf Rempelta Repet Rillow Rince Rinclume Rings Rivule Roothly Rootingle Rubbina Runne Ruscle Rustaryon Rómelion Samba Sanatsa Saryad Scards Secreser Senture Shagged Sholi Silmare Singilya Skilla Slava Smood Solast Sonall Sorna Sorthere Specite Sperced Spicuous Spinable Splity Sprichenin Sprin Stanch Stima Stina Stinuant Straite Stround Suffixed Sungan Swandu Tailor Tamentale Tampannie Tampano Tandating Tankotyar Tarly Tarre Tasseathey Tastyaz Tavaning Telloath Telmo Tenesse Tening Thanya Theri Thingwa Thitewar Threa Threed Tiksa Tingsfoil Tintember Tirish Tomorn Tread Trengwe Trimasal Tuild Tuildo Tuiled Tuilinding Tuimasarna Tulumbe Tumber Tunate Tunde Tusse Twished Twishee Twitchen Tyelme Túlimba Ughthous Undance Undave Unded Unfix Untilta Urgent Vaksa Valame Valea Vanno Ventar Verstale Verythight Vestic Victorya Vigorge Viole Voron Vorost Vorous Vower Vírima Vóreat Watelumbal Westu Whilla Whistaro Whithongu Wilótessa Winde Wingahond Withoment Worna Wounde Writy Yanna Yanwards Yatterno Yavanwie Yelko Yella Yerni Yestear Yieldarwe Úveane
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