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#i'm screaming crying losing my mind
commander-krios · 7 months
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SCREAMING over this beautiful birthday gift from my beloved, @stellorc, of Damon Reznor and my Tilaari traveler, Astrea. The glow, the expressions, the hands. Thank you so much, dear! I don't think I'm going to recover.
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lukadarkwater · 1 year
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Link.... you must find me.
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murderandcoffee · 2 months
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I SCREAMED SO LOUD I SCARED MY DOGS
GERRY AND GERTUDE??????!!!!!!!!!!
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skullsandcorals · 4 months
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How I've Been Feeling About Aryan's Grover:
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phvnthom · 11 months
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I'm losing my mind with all the flowerfang fics
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unholyhelsing · 1 year
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OH MY GOD ??? (clown playing A's route)
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revenantghost · 1 year
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Hey
So that new Tristamp episode, huh?
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1nm806 · 8 months
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i'm literally dead (i just saw someone say theyre putting songs on a playlist for my faves nd its so so wrong i need to explode)
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It's giving Over The Garden Wall/Stranger Things vibes and I am LIVING for it
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moe-broey · 2 years
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OKAY. All Heroes OCs banner I am fuvking MANIFESTING HER
V quick v rushed but!!! Based her fit off of Mayo's design for Cipher (intsys she ALREADY has a swimsuit design!!!!!), w just a few adjustments cause I feel like she wouldn't wear a regular bikini bottom? Just vibes, but I feel like she would wear shorts or a frilly skirt (and I've already drawn that style so many times LMFAO so I wanted to do something different!!!!)
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anxietywasright · 1 year
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I loved you and you left me like I never meant anything to you
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lightsiided · 9 months
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i love you. you're worth fighting for.
* refusing care prompts | accepting
     the LAUGH that leaves her is musical; rey's face flushes under the seriousness in thor's words, the weight of his stare. "alright, tough guy." the smile she'd been fighting as she slowly rubbed bacta in each of his small scrapes breaks free, then, spreading out across her face. "i know. i love you, too."
she wipes her hands off, then moves back towards him to inspect her work, cradling his jaw gently in her hands. slowly, she turns his face back and forth in the light -- still as PERFECT as ever, still so handsome it makes her breath catch. rey's heart is thumping so painfully, so loudly, she has to wonder if he can hear it in the otherwise quiet of the old AT-AT, the desert outside.
her fingers tilt his chin down so she can kiss his lips lightly, once, twice, three times. "the bacta should keep the sand out of them, but if anything starts stinging, just let me know and i'll bandage it." eyes sweep his face again; rey rubs their noses together affectionately. "you know i don't NEED YOU to fight these idiots for me, right? all of this... was a long time ago."
it's strange, to be back on jakku. stranger still to have thor with her, here of all places. having him in the place she called HOME for nearly two decades feels intensely vulnerable, like he's seeing a part of her she's never shown him before. she can't help but wonder what he must think about it -- if it will change the way he feels about her.
probably not, rey thinks, if how he's been acting so far is any indication. every new thing she's shared with him has seemed to worsen his protective streak in a way that makes her steps through the sand feel impossibly LIGHT. she's certain she's been staring at him with the look that usually makes their friends sigh and toss things at her head. but it's hard not to marvel at her own good fortune. she owes it to the girl who'd been left behind, who'd grown up too quickly, who'd faced a seemingly endless string of bad luck with only the belief that one day something LIKE THIS would happen to her to keep her going.
so many lonely nights spent exactly where she stands now, on the receiving end of love and devotion from the most incredible man she's ever known. it almost makes her feel DIZZY, in need of a long drink from her canteen.
rey's hand rests on thor's chest, so that she catches the beat of his heart under her palm. there aren't words to express what the sentiment means to her -- how it feels to have him willing to fight on her behalf, like no one else has before -- not without getting emotional, and she thinks she'd like to save that for when they're actually home, TOGETHER, curled around one another in bed so tightly it's hard to discern where she ends and he begins.
for now, she just lets her smile stretch, hoping the sparkle in her eyes says it all.
@othunderous
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mythvoiced · 1 month
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it's five o'clock in the evening when the video call comes through from lí chényǔ's number --- though the moment the camera turns on, it becomes immediately obvious that the man himself isn't the one placing the call. wendy's face mostly fills the screen, her eyes wide with concern, gaze flitting side to side as if she's attempting to be sneaky. she carefully ( pointedly ) adjusts the angle of the camera just right, such that the patch of damp, discolored plaster ( and the black mold splotched across it ) in the corner of the ceiling comes into view. all the rain has set it to leaking again; even as she videos it, several drops of water fall and land on the cluttered floor beneath, soaking into some ratty old towels that have long since ceased to serve their purpose in keeping what little free floor space there is dry.
in the background, a tv is playing faintly --- by the sound of it, a game show from the mainland. chopsticks clink against a bowl --- michael. wendy glances over at him where he sits next to her on the cramped bottom bunk, then back to the camera. the rain pounds against the single-pane glass; the wind rattles the window in its frame, whistling around the nonexistent weatherstripping. someone coughs as if they're drowning in their own lungs --- lí chényǔ. wendy's face falls, and she surreptitiously tilts the camera just enough to capture the scene.
lí chényǔ sits hunched on the edge of the bed, wrapped in a heavy comforter, a thermometer hanging from the corner of his mouth. his head rests heavily in one hand, a smouldering cigarette perched precariously between his fingers; even from this angle, the unhealthy flush on his cheeks is obvious. the thermometer beeps, and he scrutinizes it, expressionless.
"gēge," wendy asks, "what's it say ?"
"méishénme," lí chényǔ replies hoarsely, with a dismissive wave of his hand. he turns away from his younger siblings, then sneezes violently twice, unable to stop himself from groaning faintly in discomfort afterwards.
michael glances over at wendy, then takes advantage of lí chényǔ's distraction while searching for tissues to snatch the thermometer away from him. "chénchén, why's your temperature 103 ?" he asks worriedly, reaching out rub lí chényǔ's back when his big brother starts coughing again. "you're sick, please don't go play tonight, look how bad the weather is !"
"i won't be long," lí chényǔ whispers in mandarin ( it seems to hurt him to talk. ) "i just ... need to make enough to buy something so i won't cough all night and keep you both up. you have school tomorrow." there's a beat; lí chényǔ sniffles miserably, then turns to wendy. "wénxīn, i need my phone --- "
the video cuts off abruptly. and then ---
[ text to / 徐文哲 ]: its wendy he says hes going to busk at union square when the rain stops. winnie gege what do i do 😭 chenchen is so sick and im scared 😭😭
[ for wenzhe, from lí chényǔ / @xiianxias ! ]
@xiianxias | annabel & lcy rip len's heart apart hours~
There's a lot Wenzhe associates Lí ChénYǔ to. Mostly things he doesn't want to speak out loud because they're romantic and flowery, dreamy and ridiculous. Certain hands and caresses of a musician, little habits and that contrasting cigarette, the tenderness of a good man coupled with the harshness of the world sitting on his back.
Eyes with enough in them to fill the basin of the sea stretching between this coast and the mainland. Tentative speech and the intelligence hiding behind the language barrier, broad shoulders nearly solely in the metaphorical sense because if his sleeves slip his arms are thin, a brother and father both, someone a thousand times better than Wenzhe will ever be without ever asking to be considered anything more than just capable enough to be allowed to continue being capable, that little smile and the Mandarin Wenzhe mouths after him and pretends it's not to imitate his lips.
Enough to get lost about, enough to lose focus during classes, enough to stop at corners and create connections between a busker he's not and the music he plays, between a drugstore and that terrible cough, between a restaurant and warm food he'd like his siblings to taste.
A whole lot of things.
He often forgets this part.
The cough. The look in those basins of the sea. The siblings. The hope. Careful. The sense of responsibility. The weight on those shoulders.
Wenzhe thinks of the beautiful man and the notes of one of the saddest instruments the world has created and too often doesn't associate its solemnity to its player.
Wenzhe almost walks into a pole.
In and out of a campus café where he works on his way back home, the food there isn't glamorous or gourmet, or even fresh at this hour, but it's soft and pastry, it's sweet, it's never as high-class as all Vienna has to offer in terms of chocolate and desserts, but it fills the stomach and makes sweet-tooth's sigh. Wenzhe doesn't quite know how to ask 'is it all right' and 'what do you like', so he forewent the mortification and just bought the damn thing.
If Lí ChénYǔ likes it, good, if he doesn't, mark it down for next time.
Now it feels heavy in his hands.
The call cuts too abruptly. He'd been too focused on not frowning at his screen, on ignoring the pain of slamming his shoulder into the pole to narrowly avoid it, on wrapping his mouth around the first syllables of 'what's wrong did something happen-' before Wendy beats him too it and knocks the words back off his tongue.
He tries not to panic. And almost sways with the relief at getting a text.
He didn't know what his brain had computed could have happened between Lí ChénYǔ's cough, Mandarin he doesn't understand, and Wendy suddenly disappearing off his screen. But if his heart races any faster, he'll lose it and his hair within the next 24 hours.
[ unsent text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] i'm on my way, tell him if he tries to go out i'll
He halts in his power-walk and nearly slams into someone.
He'll what, exactly. They're not that close. Or… are they? No, they are. But… he'll what. What could he hold against him?
What can you hold against someone you want to give the world to?
He slams his phone onto his forehead and tries again.
[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] i'm on my way, once i'm there i'll figure out how to help him, okay? thank you for calling me.
A frown.
[ text to | 😖😵‍💫🥺 ] you did well! always call me in situations like these, okay?
Or maybe… not?
He's jogging by the time he's decided he'll overthink it later, and by the time the alley's in sight, and his phone is stuck to his ear, he'll figure he'll be put back in his place soon enough, if Wendy picks up.
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copiasblair · 8 months
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WAUGH.
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compatiissante · 3 months
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"feel free to use kisses as a way to shut me up at any time."
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youcancallme-manny · 2 years
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still processing this- 
FARHANNNNNNNNN 😭💗
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