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#take your pick.
the-better-retainer · 10 days
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Silk: OOOOO DADDY? U HAVE MARIO PARTY? CAN I PLAY PLS? :3
sure, we have them all up until the eighth one.
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fluff-writing · 27 days
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it's not a doughnut if you don't squint
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megoomy · 2 years
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you’re smothering him...
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calmlythrilling · 2 days
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He's scratching at the doors and walls, like a cat trapped in a room.
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onesidedradiostatic · 1 month
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best part about alastor and rosie's relationship is how rosie enables him
I think their evil aspect should be talked about more. she's like "oh you have nefarious intentions? #SLAY gurl"
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s0fter-sin · 8 months
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everyone makes fun of soap when they find out how many hair and skin products he keeps on hand. the cabinet in his bathroom is filled to bursting and he always keeps travel sized bottles on him on missions
when soldiers outside the 141 find out, they call him precious and self-obsessed, a vain pretty boy too preoccupied with his reflection to focus on the enemy. no wonder how he got his callsign. price has given up telling him to leave them on base and just teaches him to individually wrap them so they don’t rattle against each other and give himself away
what they don’t know is that each product contains an ingredient that when mixed with any number of the others, creates potent chemical bombs. he was caught unarmed once, he won’t let it happen again
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arguablysomaya · 8 months
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this is incredibly bruce and damian coded.
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ghouljams · 4 months
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Regency AU with Price (as always the gif does not represent the reader, only the vibe)
Tags: first meetings, social faux pas, love at first sight, British imperialism mention, classism, a little period typical misogyny, Price keep your hands to yourself please
You've never deluded yourself into thinking you're marriage material, never concerned yourself with your lack of marriage prospects. The child of a doctor with no title to his name, and a midwife with even less. You're in good standing, but you know well enough that among the delicate fingers of the noble ladies, you're a sore thumb.
A captain is certainly out of reach for someone like you. You don't mind, of course, you're perfectly content to remain single and eventually take over your father's practice. Still, you do look up with the rest of the crowd when the announcement is made. Captain John Price. He's young. Too young to have made such a commission, but his eyes are old and the stern set of his brow, the tight lipped smile, speak to a man who has seen more in his short life than most men will by 80. His eyes meet yours and you look away, snap your fan open to distract yourself from the boiling heat of the greenhouse the party is being held in. That must be what makes your skin prickle.
You bemoan the fact that your friends have lost all interest in conversation in favor of tittering over the new arrival.
"Fresh from the colonies, I hear," one of your friends whispers, "he hasn't been home in a good few years."
"I heard he's going to be made a baron," your other friend whispers back.
"I hear he's rot his dick clean off from scurvy," you grumble.
"Did you now?" A voice rumbles with amusement behind you. You squeeze your eyes shut for a brief second and curse yourself before plastering on a smile and turning to face the man of the hour. You flutter your fan in front of your face and hope it looks more demure than your mouth would suggest.
He's better looking up close. His eyes sparkle, and his smile seems less forced, more open. It's the hint of teeth that break up his lips, different from the tightness he'd given upon announcement. You curtsey, as is proper when meet a man above your station, which is just about every man here. Money can buy you an invitation but not the good will other women may have.
"Captain," you have no follow up for that, so you attempt to mean it as a greeting, "I meant no harm."
His fingers tighten around yours when you try to pull them away, but he does straighten up, apparently unbothered by the surrounding crowd's murmurs. He must have hit his head and been sent home due to madness. You're sure that's the only explanation for the heat in his eyes and the smirk on his lips. A man who's lived a life of violence and still holds himself so tall shouldn't bow his head to you.
"Of course not," he holds his hand out, and like a fool you place your fingers against his. He doesn't raise your hand to his lips like so many other men, he bows to it. Bows to meet your knuckles with his lips. Bows with his arm tight behind his back and his eyes lowered. As if you were the queen, and not some doctor's daughter. Your face bursts with heat and you glance around to be sure there aren't any eyes on you.
"Please don't do that," you tell him quietly, whispering it furtively to try and stem the murmurs. His grip on your hand shifts, drops your fingers to hold your wrist.
"Perhaps you'd prefer something else?" He pulls your arm up, turns your hand over to press his lips against the thrumming pulse in your wrist, his gaze holds yours all the while. Your stomach flips pleasantly. The tips of your fingers brush against his dark hair, and you imagine you can feel it through your gloves. "A dance? Or an apology?" He kisses further past your wrist, pulling you closer, "Or perhaps I should be asking for one from you." Another kiss, just below the bend of your elbow.
Was there a crowd? You can't imagine there's anything but you and the captain? No one in the world but the two of you standing in front of each other as his lips skate the top edge of your glove. The feeling of his skin against yours is like touching the inside of an oven, a short shock that makes you want to pull away, a heat that lingers long after the touch is gone. Have you ever wanted to put your hand in a fire so badly?
"Would you like me to apologize?" You ask him, pushing your voice out even past the breathless bubble in your chest. He closes his eyes, tips his head to run his nose against your skin with a sigh.
"Never."
It's so simple a word and yet it drops like a heavy weight into your stomach. It roots you, binds you, when his hand touches the small of your back to pull you closer you go without a second thought. Spellbound.
"God," he breathes, "I'd have come home sooner if I knew you were waitin' for me."
"You don't even know me," You smile, feeling like you've been let in on a joke only the two of you know.
"Oh sweetheart," something in his voice is cloying sweet, something in his eyes -so stormy blue you'd think he bottled the ocean tides just to see through their colored glass- that speaks to a promise you never hoped for, "I've got a lifetime to learn."
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mobius-m-mobius · 13 days
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Good Omens (2019) // The Assembly (2024)
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theotterpenguin · 23 days
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it’s always “let aang swear” or “let zuko swear” but y’all are missing out on the comedic potential of katara being the one who has the dirtiest mouth. she swears like a sailor but is just better at hiding it than everyone else because she doesn't want to influence aang or toph, and tries to keep up pretenses of being proper.
after all the time they spent fighting each other as enemies and sparring as friends, zuko’s the only one that knows this about her but no one believes him.
(for those who question where katara could possibly learn to curse, i ask - have you ever assisted women through childbirth in a world where epidurals don't exist? katara has. like c'mon. she knows all the swear words).
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ahhrenata · 9 months
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i just wanted to draw them wet 😬
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seraphimfires · 2 years
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Two types of ex Catholics. Ones that are normal and ones that develop a blasphemy kink
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a homestuck-ified meme bonanza
↓ ↓ references belooooww ↓ ↓ 
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nofacednerd · 9 months
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“oh if kara ever comes to mawsm, she’ll be such a sweetiepie like clark is :)” no. listen to me. you aren’t seeing my vision here.
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ibtisams · 5 months
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The yard in Al-Shifa hospital was just bombed, where many displaced civilians and reporters were sheltering
Yesterday the Al-Nasir children’s hospital in Gaza was bombed twice to the point where it was unable to be used fully
Al-Quds hospital will have to shut down in less than 24 hours due to lack of fuel and resources
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gammija · 4 months
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new and old blorbo's meet at last
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