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#slowlyslowly
missj1983 · 1 year
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Mmmm Nice and slow!
😛
J.
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too-lit-for-fanfic · 10 months
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A little teaser for the martyn inthelittlewood/scott smajor mean gills slow burn fic we’ve been working on - one and a half weeks left before exams are over and we can post the first chapter! (Though this section may seem like a spoiler it really isn’t, trust us, there’s much more to this story than Martyn’s conflicting feelings).
Martyn busies himself with assorting a small plate of assorted meats and vegetables, primarily dried kelp and cured beef, as he tried desperately not to focus on the pet name that bounced around his skull in tandem with his incessant timer. 
Tick. Darling.
Tock. Darling.
Tick- He closes a chest harsher than he should have, wincing at something tumbling inside but uncaring to open and check. This was not good, he needed to get a grip. His brows pinch and a frown tugs at his lips as he shuffles through the base, free hand coming up to push his fringe from his eyes as he ducks under the archway, squinting as the last few golden rays of light illuminate the island, the distant ocean glittering like a sea of diamonds. Though, from what he remembered, all of the life games had a certain beauty to them, he did not remember a sight as beautiful as the one before him, the island him and Scott called home offering a beauty unlike anything he could remember. Scintillating throws of orange and pink paint the distant horizon, brightening a cloudless sky and casting golden honey-warmth on the landscape, his skin warmed to its touch. The flowers and fauna Scott had decorated the island with bloomed and swayed in the gentle sea breeze, his own locks ruffled by the warm breeze and tickling his forehead as he meanders, the dry grass crinkling beneath his flip-flop clad feet. 
Tick. Darl-
His brows furrow further, agitation winding in his chest. God, you’d think he’d never been addressed as anything other than his name with the way he was reacting to the silly little pet name. Martyn scolds himself internally, the continuous ticking drowned out by the argument he had begun to have with himself. Scott was a friend, nothing more, nothing less. He was a pretty man, that was undeniable, but Martyn had lots of pretty friends, that was no need to start thinking this much about someone, nevermind letting an off-handed comment effect him so much. Perhaps it was the newly acquired red-life adrenaline pumping through his veins - of course it was, becoming red was always a shock to the system, everything became so much more intense. He was just being silly - he needed to kill someone, that would do it.
Both hands come to grip the plate as he approaches the edge of the island, feet nearly sliding free from his flip-flops as he halts abruptly in his tracks, eyes locking onto the man before him. In the time it taken him to gather the small feasts worth of food Scott had hiked his shorts up, kicked off his boots, and now sat with his feet dangling into the ocean, palms flat on either side of himself as he leant back, cyan locks ruffled by the gentle sea breeze and turned towards the sunset. Martyn’s red gaze immediately draws to an expanse of ivory skin, oh yes, Scott was shirtless. Huh. For a moment he forgets to breath, and his heart jack-hammers in his chest to make up for the panic in his veins as his gaze follows the curve of Scott’s spine, catching on every dip and curve, appreciative of the blue scales that curved from the base of his spine and dotted his hips and sides. His gaze travels back up, breath hitching as Scott tilts his head to the side, gazing at something in the distance, the long expanse of his neck and angular shoulders illuminated by the last golden rays of the day. Oh, this was not bloodlust, Martyn realises, mind empty as he stares appreciatively at the dip of ivory skin at the joint between Scott’s neck and shoulder, this was- this was a very pretty teammate, a good man and a capable partner, with his back turned and completely trusting of the otherwise dangerous wild-card that inhabited the island with him. Something tightens in Martyn’s chest and his stomach churns uncomfortably, palms sweating and breaths shallow as he shamelessly studies the cyanette, unknowingly tightening his jaw.
Scott seemed to have no idea of the effect he was arousing from his partner, too consumed by his own thoughts to pay the frozen man behind him any mind. A hand comes up to carve its way through the locks at the back of his head, neck stretching further with the effort and the muscles in his shoulders and back flexing. Martyn’s red eyes follow the movement, sunlight glinting in their depths, mouth parching. The bastard.
The sunset was beautiful, it was undeniable, but Scott enchanted him in a way no earthly phenomenon could. The bright hues of oranges and pinks were nothing compared to the shock of cyan hair and ivory skin that graced his vision, and Martyn soon forgot about the scenery altogether as he gazed wantonly at the unassuming man before him. 
Oh, he was in trouble. He was in more than trouble, he realised, eyes still unable to tear themselves from the dip of the curve between Scott’s neck and shoulder, blue scales gleaming in the golden light. No, he was fucked.
The eyes, ever present but always just out of sight, don’t need a voice to express their mockery. Martyn can practically feel their amusement enveloping closer as his heart thumps erratically against his ribcage, not possessing the willpower to tear his eyes from the expanse of Scott’s back and neck, not even to throw those watching a scornful scowl. 
“Martyn, I know I’m pretty to look at and it’s definitely not the bloodlust having you staring a hole into the back of my head, but could you either kill me or feed me because I’m going to die either way and you won’t even get the time.” A wily smirk and a flash of yellow catch his red gaze as Scott turns, long lines of his chest and neck illuminated as his torso twists. The blond’s grip on the plate he held causes the wood to creak, knuckles white.
Oh yes, he was totally, hopelessly, dangerously fucked.
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bloodonmyhands-1221 · 9 months
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Well hello all my loves... no I didn't die... I promise I'm here, had to step away for a moment, but I have been writing and planning... and planning... and plotting...
So what do I have coming to you guys?
Price x reader x Alex
Blood Soaked Love Chapter 2
Konig Angst
Master Chief
Logan Walker one shot
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pecholobosaipon · 10 months
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When you don’t have a choice , and have to follow an Amish buggy
Amish life
Take it easy 🎼🎼
June 2023. Sturgis , Michigan
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morimatea · 1 year
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Baking tea slower makes the tastes more mellow and rich.
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duygularisiktiret · 2 years
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In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby kiss me
Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore
You are all l long for
All l worship and adore
ln other words, please be true
In other words, l love you
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prettyfitness · 9 months
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Some light treadmill and leg curls...never underestimate the benefit of having people in your life who will keep you accountable about the gym
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romie-romie · 1 year
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ahuman-becoming · 1 year
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Tag game: choose an artist you like & use the name of their songs to answer this as close as possible!
Artist: Slowly Slowly
Gender: Creature of Habit
How I feel: Race Car Blues
Location: You Are Bigger Than This Town
Best friend: The Best Bits
Fav time of day: Low
TV show: Superpowers
What’s life like: Jellyfish -> Achilles' Heel -> Moving Trains -> Daisy Chain
Relationship status: Hold My Breath
What do I fear: Medicine
I was tagged by @an-honest-puck and this was WAY harder than it needed to be so thank you I guess! I went deep with these, song titles and/or the actual song itself so do yourself a favour 🤘🏼
I don't spend enough time on here to tag people so if you see this, consider yourself tagged! :)
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Ağaçların kokusu gelsin...
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fisheadz · 2 years
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This was originally on Wattpad, my account on there is fisHead, or XaviPalacios3, so if y’all don’t like it here, u can go there
Buck’s PoV~
"Drowning." That's the only word I could pull from my conscience. Thirteen years more or less of school and I couldn't think of any other words then drowning. Pathetic.
"Any other thoughts? Pain, sadness, anger?," the therapist Maddie forced me to go to kicking and screaming, that I wasn't sure was a real therapist and not just some rando that waltzed in and applied for the position, asked me for the third time this week. I was getting sick of it. Though I always feel sick these days so I couldn't tell for sure. "Fear, disgust?"
"All of the above," I replied, shifting a little in the armchair that I wanted to throw at the woman in front of me. The chair that was so plush it made me wanna vomit. "Are we done yet? I'm fine." I wasn't anywhere near fine, but this therapist won't be either if this goes on any longer. Said "professional" sighed in, what my scarred mind interpreted as, disappointment. I don't blame her. I'm rather exhausting.
"Well, if you want to stop this session early, I can't stop you-" I cut her off by shooting up from the chair, snatching my bag from the floor beside it, and bolting out the door without another word. I was tired, though I always was no matter how much sleep I got, and I just wanted to lay down and relax. Plus, I smell horrible from the lack of showering. I just have to tough it out, I can't be afraid to get wet forever. And this goddamn "therapist" isn't helping at all. But I couldn't just skip therapy 'cause Maddie was keeping tabs with the "therapist". I'm such a hot mess, except for the hot. I lost that confidence when everyone around me made me realize how dumb it was. Even Maddie was losing faith.
I walked to my car, which was all the way across the lot. The closer spots shouldn't be wasted on me. Getting into my Jeep, I slammed the door, just barely missing my leg by a few inches. I felt kinda disappointed at that. Sighing, I looked at the little picture on the dash, snapped by Carla while we weren't looking. It was of Christopher, laying on the floor with me and Eddie, playing a video game on Eddies TV.
I glared at my happy face, the smile lines that made me look so much older, the stupid grin on my face as I won at whatever game it was, already lost to my memory. Eddie looked so happy too, unaware that just a month later, the same man he was laughing with would lose his son, almost getting him killed. Little did Chris know that, a month later, he would be drowning in the water with the already deceased, scarring his young mind forever.
As the moment came back to me, I started to breathe heavily, as though I was breathing for the first time in while. The waves crashed into me yet again, slamming my body into the little game bar thing that Christopher was hidden under. The little game bar thing that wasn't good enough to stop him from being dragged away. That would have trapped him under the water if it had been enough. I listened to the water rushing into my ears and nose and lungs and stomach and heart and brain. I was drowning, and I didn't know if I had the strength to pull myself out anymore.
~An hour later~
I managed to drive myself home. I have no idea how I did, with my body shaking and vision blurred by the nonexistent water in them. All I know is that I made it home without hurting anyone else. I hoped Athena didn't find out that I drove without a clear head, or the reason I didn't have a clear head in the first place. No one needed to get caught up in my shit.
I stayed parked on the curb for a little while, recollecting myself so that no one would notice how distressed I was. I didn't wanna have to make up another "my cat passed away" or "my grandma's in the hospital" story to get them off my back. Eventually, I decided to man the fuck up and step out of my Jeep. Immediately I was hit by the smell of the city, if that makes any sense. It wasn't a good or bad smell, some fumes from the exhaust pipe of passing vehicles, street food wafting from around the corner, stuff like that. So simple yet so distinct from, say, grass or the ocean.
I was sad that I couldn't smell the ocean from where I lived. Such a comforting and sweet smell, though if I was close enough to smell to ocean, I would probably be able to see it too, and I probably wouldn't be able to handle those hypnotic waves beckoning me to let them be my end. I don't know why I was thinking about smells and the ocean trying to kill me. I don't know why a lot of things happen these days. Or any other day for that matter.
"Sir, are you alright?" I jumped at the older woman's voice coming from in front of me. She had a look of concern on her rather kind face. "You've been standing here for a while so I decided to come over and see if you needed help." I let her words sink in, not fully understanding them at first.
"Oh, yeah, I'm A-OK!" I responded, forcing a smile on my face and a happy tone to my voice. I've gotten a lot better at lying in these past few months, with Hen and Maddie always questioning my well-being.
The lady didn't seem to buy my ruse though, with the look she gave me.
"If you ever want to talk about anything, I live in the first floor, apartment 4. I used to be a volunteer therapist for the elderly." She informed me. I wasn't even sure that was a thing, though with how everything has been in the past couple years, we need all the therapy we can get.
"Oh, well, I'll see if I have time, I have a rather busy schedule..." I trailed off. I didn't want to drag this poor lady into my problems.
"OK, you take care of yourself, alright?"
"I will, thank you," I said, smiling at her before walking into the building. I could see apartment four from the entrance and really considered the old woman's offer. She's seen a lot of cases like mine, surely.
If she did therapy services for the elderly, they've seen a lot, she might be able to help me. While I hate bothering others with my issues, those issues have been impairing my abilities at work. Panic attacks, flashbacks, the near-constant twitching, someone was bound to find out sooner or later. That being said, I'd much rather it be on my own terms then otherwise.
Plus, that "therapist" that I'm already seeing is just making the situation worse, so it couldn't hurt to try something else. However, that's only the case if the old lady had a different way of helping her patients then that other chick.
Sighing for the hundredth time today, I walked towards the elevator. After pressing the button to call the elevator down to my level, I tapped my foot and thought about the events of the day.
Waking up to Maddie calling me for the seventeenth time, only to find that I was running late for a rather short shift at the firehouse, tripping while trying to pull my pants up and knocking my bad knee into the corner of my dresser, getting scolded at by Bobby for being late, a rather small house fire, a dog stuck in a sweltering elevator after the owner got distracted and forgot about the open elevator in front of them and their dog wandering into it.
It didn't survive, and the owner said they were gonna sue the company in charge of the construction of the building for the malfunction that caused the elevator to stall. Then therapy, the mental breakdown, the old lady, all the way back here, in front of the elevator that's been open for a while as I stood there lost in thought.
I quickly stepped into the, after today's events, intimidating elevator and pressed the button to go to the fifth floor. I was so tired that I considered just letting myself take a short nap here. It was late and, from what I've seen in the time I've lived here, a lot of the residents worked from home, meaning that-
What am I thinking? Jeez, I'm losing my goddamn mind. The ding indicating that the elevator has arrived at the fifth floor startled me out of letting my thoughts turn dark and self-deprecating. I quickly stepped out and looked around at the eerily empty hallways. Then I turned the the left and walked down the long hallway that seemed to go on forever. Counting down the steps till I reached my apartment, apartment thirty-four.
All I wanted was to lie down and rest. I've gotten little to no sleep this past week or so. And any sleep I did get was riddled with nightmares about the tsunami, the firetruck crushing my leg, losing Chris....
I didn't even realize I was in my loft until I bumped my hip into the corner of the table. After whining like a baby for a few minutes and watching the bruise appear on my skin, I trudged my way up the stairs and into the bathroom.
Once I was done with my business I leaned on the sink, holding myself up with my shaking arms, and stared at my disheveled reflection. My blondish-red-brown hair was a bit of a rats nest, random curls sticking up in odd places, oily from the lack of self care and showering. The dark circles under my eyes, almost like makeup. My cracked lips, split from me biting them. I was a horrible sight to behold.
Turning around and walking out of the bathroom seemed impossible, but I did it, somehow. It was like my limbs were on autopilot.
My phone dinged from my pocket, making me jump in surprise. After I fished it out, I read the message, sent from Maddie. "I heard u left therapy early. What happened?" I groaned and tried to think of a response. All I could come up with was that I was feeling nauseous and tired so I left. Well it was mostly the truth. I plugged my phone in and set it on the nightstand by my bed. As I did, it dinged again. "OK, get some sleep alright? Ly, goodnight".
I sent back a love you, goodnight of my own and laid down after taking my shoes off. I replayed everything that happened today in head again. Just then, my phone dinged yet again. I winced and sat up. Everything was aching. My head, my leg, my hip and stomach and throat. It felt like I was beaten with a sledgehammer.
I picked up my phone and looked at the contact. Eddie. What does he want at... 11:21. I didn't realize it was that late. I then read the text.
"Are u down to come over tomorrow, Chris wants to see u".
Confusion pooled in my head, but I was too exhausted to formulate a response to his text. I'll talk to him tomorrow. I laid back down and closed my eyes, but I couldn't sleep. I sighed, knowing that I'll pass out from sleep deprivation eventually. I'll just have to wait till then.
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daboiz · 6 months
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Back To Basics, Back On My Bullsh*t - Slowly Slowly ('22 documentary)
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things-of-fen-water · 9 months
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recently, I moved into a new apartment, and the person who lived/s there warned me about how slugs sometimes get into the house. I've never run into this before, and tbh was quite skeptical, but it was proven true yesterday. we just gently put them back outside lol
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figsnhoney00 · 1 year
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08-22
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gamzelibiri51 · 2 years
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Önce sever gibi
Sonra güler gibi
Şimdi gider gibi
Bakma yüzüme..!
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