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#day 5 trial
wonder-worker · 5 months
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I've been thinking about the tragedy of Elizabeth Woodville living to see the end of her family name.
I don't mean her family with her husband, which lived on through her daughter and grandson. I mean her own.
Her sisters died, one by one, many of them after 1485. When Elizabeth died, only Katherine was left, and she would die before the turn of the century as well.
All her brothers died, too. Lewis died in childhood. John was executed. Anthony was murdered. Lionel died suddenly in the peak of Richard's reign, unable to see his niece become queen. Edward perished at war. Richard died in grieving peace. For all the violence and judgement the family endured, it was "an accident of biology" that ended their line: none of the brothers left heirs, and the Woodville name was extinguished. We know the family was aware of this. We know they mourned it, too:
“Buy a bell to be a tenor at Grafton to the bells now there, for a remembrance of the last of my blood.”
Elizabeth lived through the deposition and death of her young sons, and lived to see the end of her own family name. It must have been such a haunting loss, on both sides.
#(the quote is by Richard Woodville in his deathbed will; he was the last of the Woodville brothers to die)#elizabeth woodville#woodvilles#my post#to be clear I am not arguing that the death of an English gentry family name is some kind of giant tragedy (it absolutely the fuck is not)#I'm trying to put it into perspective with regards to what Elizabeth may have felt because we know her family DID feel this way#writing this kinda reminded me of how I am just not fond at all about the way Elizabeth's experiences in 1483-85 are written about#and the way lots so many of the unprecedentedly horrifying aspects are overlooked or treated so casually:#the seizure and murder of two MINOR sons and the illegal execution of another;#her sheer vulnerability in every way compared to all her queenly predecessors; how she was harassed by 'dire threats' for months;#how she had 5 very young daughters with her to look after at the time (Bridget and Katherine were literally 3 and 4 years old);#how unprecedented Richard's treatment of her was: EW was the first queen of england to be officially declared an adulteress;#and the first and ONLY queen to be officially accused of witchcraft#(Joan of Navarre was accused of her treason; she was never explicitly accused of witchcraft on an official level like EW was)#the first crowned queen of england to have her marriage annulled; and the first queen to have her children officially bastardized#what former queens endured through rumors* were turned into horrifying realities for her.#(I'm not trying to downplay the nightmare of that but this was fundamentally on a different level altogether)#nor did Elizabeth get a trial or appeal to the church. like I cannot emphasize this enough: this was not normal for queens#and not normal for depositions. ultimately what Richard did *was* unprecedented#and of course let's not forget that Elizabeth had literally just been unexpectedly widowed like 20 days before everything happened#I really don't feel like any of this is emphasized as much as it should be?#apart from the horrifying death of her sons - but most modern books never call it murder they just write that they 'disappeared'#and emphasize that ACTUALLY we don't know what happened to them (this includes Arlene Okerlund)#rather than allowing her to have that grief (at the very least)#more time is spent dealing with accusations that she was a heartless bitch or inconsistent intriguer for making a deal with Richard instead#it also feels like a waste because there's a lot that can be analyzed about queenship and R3's usurpation if this is ever explored properly#anyway - it's kinda sad that even after Henry won and her daughter became queen EW didn't really get a break#her family kept dying one by one and the Woodville name was extinguished. and she lived to see it#it's kinda heartbreaking - it was such a dramatic rise and such a slow haunting fall#makes for a great story tho
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frootbyethefoot · 7 months
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trophy hunting
[ID: a digital drawing of maki harukawa from danganronpa v3: killing harmony. maki is standing dead center, with a blank, almost thousand yard stare, and a neutral expression. she is holding a black and white checkered piece of fabric, with a splash of bright pink blood on it.
behind her are three panels. the first panel, towards the left shows a crossbow, the strike-9 poison bottle, the antidote covered in blood, and a bloody handprint. all of the panels are in greyscale, except for the bright pink blood. the second panel, in the middle, shows kokichi oumas clothing with blood running down the back. the final panel shows kaito momotas jacket, with blood running down the sleeve. END ID/]
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savvylittlecoxswain · 1 month
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The Ogden Standard-Examiner (July 3, 1936)
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randomminty · 1 year
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Mina the most girl ever
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malneurotic · 1 year
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what an abominable creature
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garussy · 2 years
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Apollo has a council.
When someone wrongs him and apologizes he must meet with the council and decide if he should forgive them or not.
The council consists of his kids, Meg, Nico, and a reluctant Reyna.
Meg always suggests some kind of revenge.
Someone could be in the middle of apologizing and Apollo will shush them and Iris message his council.
If he can’t Iris message them he will go all the way to camp and then find Reyna so they can figure out what he should do.
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suntails · 21 days
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Hiiiii this isnt so much a question but i just wanted to tell u that ive been rewatching your die young v3 animatic a ton recently. It is SO SO SO SO GOOD!! Anyway hope ur doin well hehe
AAAAA i'm so glad!!! oh god that animatic lived in my head for AGES it was such a blast to come up w and make, im glad u like it and it's stuck around all this time <3 <3 sending u all my best!!
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akascow · 10 days
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realized i go to work with people who were not conscious when 1D debuted
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aletheialed · 4 months
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Right now, wine glass in hand and staring vacantly into the dark corners of the room in which he dwells - Barok can't help but think about his brother. To think about Klint during hard times, the man who he's always admired so much, has always come naturally to him - but it can't bring him any comfort now.
The truth is, Barok doesn't know what he should feel more betrayed about. The fact that the brother he'd wanted to emulate all his life was nothing but a killer, who's actions resulted in the ending and ruining of so many lives, including Barok's own? Or... is it that, until the very end, Klint was too afraid to share that horrible truth with him, even when that fear allowed him to be controlled into committing the most heinous acts imaginable?
It makes him want to laugh with a bitterness he hasn't felt in years. It makes him feel ill; desperate and angry and like a fraying rope about to snap. Perhaps it's sinful, and a sign of Barok's own weak character, that Klint's lack of trust in him might be what hurts the most. Had he thought Barok would break under the weight of the truth, and sought to protect him from that fate? What's worse is that Barok doesn't know how he would've reacted deep down. What's the scarier thought - that Barok would've turned away in despair and been unable to carry on just as his brother feared, or that he would stand with Klint, perhaps even turning a blind eye to his crimes...?
...There's no point in thinking about it now. But if he doesn't think about Klint, then there's no shortage of other things to take his place at the forefront of his mind. Such as the true identity of the Reaper, and how Barok had been complicit in his crimes for the longest time - allowing himself to be used and manipulated like a puppet on a string, even when he didn't see the full extent of it all.
His whole life, these past ten years in which he thought he'd endured so much, all for the sake of the people of London... what were they all for?
When he hears the knock on the door, it's tempting to ignore it entirely - he barely has the energy to stand, anyway. He doesn't know who it could possibly be, considering everything, but... in the end, he rises like a man possessed, and finds himself walking to open the door as if in a trance. What he sees when the door opens is the last thing he expects.
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"Mr... Naruhodo...? You... pray tell, what are you doing here at this hour?"
@tenacquity ( starter! )
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lionmythflower · 27 days
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so disappointed in the pjo fandom rn. Why is there no good Rachel Dare playlist???????
So I'm response to that I made my own Rachel dare playlist :) enjoy!!!
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So I’m supposed to believe that this loser had two extremely good looking kids, is a master manipulator, was high mage, started a war and is the reason a second wave of danger is coming?
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jtl-fics · 1 month
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Can I have some Smalls? I love the way you write her!!
—💖💖
8/7/24 WIP Wednesday (Closed) | Smalls AU
Kevin has the good grace to look embarrassed, “I thought she’d be at the school.” He admits.
“Today is her late day.” Janie has learned Betsy’s schedule pretty well, “I need to write her a note letting her know where I’m at so she doesn’t get worried.” She goes to the kitchen and writes a big one on the memo pad attached to the fridge.
She turns around and finds Kevin lingering behind her and she startles, “Christ, need a bell on you.” she grumbles before side-stepping him and heading up the stairs.
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inafieldofdaisies · 1 year
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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @madparadoxum and @thesingularityseries ❤️
Stopping by this midweek with a little bit from Sabrina and John's morning from Chapter 2 of their AU, I will try to get back to the main WIP soon, but a monster of a dialogue has been making me procrastinate. Also, something I thought would be fun: if you have any suggestions of wild things (misfortunes) you'd like to see happening to John (take part in making him go through it), you can drop them as an ask (short prompt), I suspect it would be a fun challenge to tackle.
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"I wanted to hear your voice." John's words from the previous night haunted Sabrina's thoughts while she prepared breakfast. She found herself unable to shake off the feeling of familiarity from the moment she found him standing in the foyer of the precinct, looking like he was about to snap at poor Lenny. "Morning.", Savannah greeted as she entered the kitchen, her nose scrunching up, "Is something burning, Rin-Rin?" The question prompted Sabrina to flip the last pancake she was working on, finding the bottom darkened. Wonderful. The last thing she needed was to be distracted, especially by someone that was passing through. And a lawyer. "Did you sleep well, Pumpkin?", she asked as she placed her sister's plate in front of her. Savannah nodded, "I wish I didn't have to wake up so early." "And so do so many adults." "Mommy asked about you.", her sister said in between bites, making Sabrina's smile drop for a second, which thankfully was conceived by her coffee mug she took a sip from at that moment. "Like what?" "If you have a boyfriend. And about uncle Les. She said she saw a picture he had posted…" Jesus. Maybe mind your own love life, Candice. And leave the lack of mine alone.
She could sense her sister's mood soaring after each short visit with Candice, and it hadn't taken long to figure out why. Their mother had become an expert at fishing for information from Savannah since her eldest daughter refused to entertain her poor attempts at "bonding", knowing full well any interest shown wasn't paired with the best intentions. She wasn't going to be shocked if Candice Donovan's intent was to introduce her to some raising entrepreneur, so she felt like she needed to figure out if Leslie would be standing in the way of tricking her into helping with her latest grift. It wouldn't have been like she hadn't tried it before, gone as far as to arrange a date for Sabrina, only for her to figure out what was going on halfway through the dinner. Nothing like having a daughter in law enforcement to make your target feel secure enough and open for any business advice his lawyer would throw his way, let her hold the purse strings. "I will talk to her, Sav. She promised me she won't ask you stuff like that." Sabrina took a final sip of coffee, "How about you watch something and finish breakfast while I go shower?" "Okay. Are we still going to the fair with uncle Les?" "Of course, he hasn't been able to stop talking about it. I think he's more excited than you even." Savannah's frown dissipated at the confirmation, a grin taking over her freckled face, "He promised to win me a big plushie." "He absolutely will.", Sabrina retorted and matched smile, feeling glad she had someone in her life she could actually depend on.
As she left the kitchen and found herself alone in the bathroom, stripping off her T-shirt and shorts, her mind drifted back to the night before. How she'd flown out of the shower and grabbed her phone, hoping she was about to hear back from the lab about her current missing persons case. Instead, John Duncan's voice had came through, perplexing her to an extend she hadn't even bothered to inquire how he'd gotten her number. His excuse for the late call had given her a pause, the real intent behind it revealing itself the moment he had made a comment about his state of undress, asked for her personal number. A part of her made sure to assure her how he'd been so quick to reach her he hadn't even wasted time putting on underwear, confirming she clearly wasn't the only one feeling this strange drawn between them. "He wants you. So much he become a rambling mess the second you casually mentioned whoever he asked for his hotel information.", the foolish side argued. "Sure.", she muttered under her breath, "Romantic much? Trying to turn a woman he just met into his midnight bootycall…" Sabrina shampooed her hair, then moved onto washing her body, completely ignoring the irksome longing within her, the same one she refused to entertain from the second their video call had ended. The desire in his deep blue eyes, his questions, all made his expectations clear as day.
It was unfortunate for him she had more important things that required her full attention. A missing girl to be located and brought home safely. A baby sister to take care of. A trainwreck of a mother to keep at bay. Numerous visions to figure out and could save people's lives. A faceless man that awaited her in so many of them and clutched her heart in his tattooed hands. John Duncan wasn't him. He was bored, slightly entitled, looking for an outlet, for someone to get him off after having a day from hell. It was what she reminded herself as she came into her bedroom to find a new message waiting for her, from a number she hadn't even bothered to save into her contacts.
Good morning. No crimes or accidents to report so far, though, it does feel slightly criminal how you've been occupying my thoughts since last night.
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John stared down at the message he had finally hit sent on after typing and deleting versions of it so many times, he had felt close to hurling his phone at the nearest wall. "Occupying his thoughts" seemed like an understatement the second he'd woken up from a dream involving Sabrina that had come off as way too real. He threw the covers off himself with a sigh and left his phone on the bed before he made his way over to the bathroom. "It's morning. It's a normal body reaction. Nothing to do with her.", he said to his reflection, "Get your head back in the game. You're meeting Mooney. Who cares she didn't respond?" Reluctantly he opened the door, leading into the shower, and turned the knobs after a silent prayer for his morning to start off without a hitch. Or at least he attempted to. Until one of them came off into his hand. "No fucking way. NO.", he practically shouted out, not giving a damn about the early hour and how his voice echoed around the room while he stared down at the chrome piece clasped between his fingers in complete disbelief.
A growl left him as he threw it on the ground and turned on his heel, the glass door rattling when he slammed it shut and exited the shower stall. "I'm not taking another arctic shower. I don't care how much you want to take care of my goddamned boner.", he had no doubt the shower would be freezing, because the knob that had fallen off, was for no other than the hot water. He didn't care about the neighboring rooms and what the other guests might have been thinking after screaming the last part on top of his lungs. Not in that moment. Not when he was close to breaking something else in the bathroom as desperation to find a way to release the pent-up frustration brewing inside him settled in. "One accident to report, Detective. And I also hate your city so much.", John whispered before taking a deep breath. As he brushed his teeth he did his best to school his features back into a serene expression, refusing to let the facade of the well-adjusted, charmant attorney to slip. He put the boxers from the day before on, hating the fact he didn't even have a change of underwear and promising himself he'd go shopping for new clothes and other necessities as soon as his meeting had wrapped up. Another frown was aimed at his reflection when he remembered he had no means to even style his hair properly, that all he could do was freshen up in the goddamned sink. He dragged himself back to the bed, sinking down on it as he contemplated how excited he was when he had received the case, yet from that day like domino everything had decided to fall apart in some way.
"At least the guy didn't steal my files. Doubt Clive would appreciate any of that information leaking out.", he reminded himself as clasped his watch back on his wrist, "So what if one of my favorite suits was in that suitcase?" The thought made him reach out for his phone in hope the detective that was going to look into his case had reached out already. He ignored all the unread messages and emails he was yet to go through, opening the text that sat as most recent notification.
Sabrina: Good luck.
Two simple words was all she had to offer him. No "I thought of you too" in sight. "Could be worse. Like her blocking my number.", he uttered out finally, deciding that the fact she had even responded was a good sign, better than simply leaving him on read now that he was another Detective's problem. Just then his phone pinged with a new message. Unknown number. His thumb acted before he could think better of it, and he regretted the decision immediately. A photo. Penny showing off a red lacy number as she cupped her breast with her free hand. Face in full view, a proud gleam in her blue eyes. A pose she had most definitely deemed alluring enough to make him crack.
Wrong number.
He texted, scowling at the realization Penny was getting bolder, crossing a line, using her personal number to pester him. Her reply followed way too fast.
Penny: Come on, John. We both know it's not. How long are you going to play hard to get, baby?
John: I will be contacting HR if this reoccurs.
Penny: You're no fun, Mr. Duncan. You're headed for your meeting, right? Good luck.
John: I'm serious. NO MORE lingerie pictures or passes at work.
Penny was good at her job, better than any of his previous assistants, but it wasn't enough for him to continue tolerating her advances in hopes she'd take the hint and cease with her attempts to get him into bed. He was one to bent the rules, but bending over someone that he worked with was where he drew the line. Reality was that one night of "fun" (mostly for her, because for him it would end up as usual: in self-loathing) would blow up in his face sooner or later.
Another buzz signaled a new message, but instead of the expected complaint from Penny, the reply made him almost drop his phone as he realized his mistake. That he'd texted in the wrong conversation.
Sabrina: John? Sabrina: I'm just going to assume you meant to send this to somebody else.
"I'm done with technology. So done.", he groaned out and chucked his phone across the bed, the pillows softening its landing against the headboard.
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John: NO MORE lingerie pictures or passes at work.
More? Initially she had tried to laugh off the text, then unwanted bitterness had set in. If Sabrina needed any proof about the kind of man John was, just based on her intuition and past experiences alone, the words he accidentally sent her minutes prior only confirmed it further. "Bye, Rin-Rin.", Savannah exclaimed and leaned over the console to give her a hug as the her truck came to a stop in front of her elementary school. "Have fun.", Sabrina retorted and placed a quick kiss on her forehead before her sister was scrambling out of the vehicle and rushing over to her best friend, Brandy, that was waiting for her outfront. The blonde girl gave her an enthusiastic wave before the two ran inside the building and she put her Bronco back into drive, heading down her favorite route to the precinct. Her eyes drank in the early runners, people on their way to work, parents walking hand in hand with their children. She had grown to love Portland. The life she and Savannah had built there. The fact that Candice seemed to avoid it like the plague most of the time was an added bonus.
Minutes later she pulled into her regular parking spot, locking the car doors before shouldering her bag and shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket to avoid the chill that hung in the morning air. She quickly crossed the street and pushed her way inside the building, muttering a quick hello to Simon, an officer that was in his last year before retirement and usually worked the day shift at the welcome desk. "Rina, always on time.", he retorted with a smile as she set for the elevator, memories of John following her down the same path threating to emerge. The hallways were mostly empty, signaling she was among the first people to arrive as per usual. "Ollie. Did you sleep here?", her sights settled on Oliver who was slumped over his desk, head full of messy blond hair resting in the crook of his arm, green eyes shifting to the door as she entered before he shut them again. His voice was sleepy, muffled against his shirt, "I'm just trying to one-up you, Rina." Sabrina let out a laugh and nudged him on the back on her way to her own desk, "Want a coffee?" "Did that well-dress fucker yesterday had the hots for you? Hell yes." She could only shake her head at his blunt observation, feeling glad Leslie hadn't arrived yet, "Oliver. We're not talking about him. Am I clear?" "Why not?", he inquired with way too much interest, his Detective senses kicking in despite his sleepiness.
She ignored the question and felt his gaze on her back while she watched the coffee machine like a hawl. "Uh-oh, there's definitely something there." "No.", she placed his the mug in front of him and sent him a look of warning, "And don't be starting any rumours, you hear?" "Too late.", his cheeky smile screamed nothing but bad news. From the team, Oliver McKenzie was the one closest to her age, and unarguably the most daredevilish, and she had quickly learned to read the signs of incoming trouble in his expression. "What did you do, Oliver?" The silence from his side put her on edge as she lowered into her chair and rubbed away at her temples before she let out a groan, "How bad is it?" "Eh.", was all he granted her as explanation. "God, Ollie.", she mimicked his earlier position just as the door to their division swung open and footsteps carried in her direction. A paper sack crinkled when it was set down on her desk, making her look up, eyes stopping on Stockton who had taken one of the seats across her. "A little 'thank you' for yesterday, Rina.", he gestured to the brown bag, bearing the logo of her favorite bakery, "Croissant, salted caramel and chocolate. Got you a coffee to-go, too. The one y'all have here is shit." "Aye, Maxwell, if it's shit, why not get one for me, too?", Oliver teased. Arguing for sport with Maxwell Stockton was one of his favorite activities and he'd oftentimes stop by "Robbery" just for that reason alone. Yet deep down, the two were close friends from their academy days and would often grab drinks on Fridays.
Stockton's dark eyes shot up to Oliver for a second before returning to hers, his hand rubbed at his cleanshaven cheek, "So, what should I expect from this guy?" "Meaning?", Sabrina asked before tearing into her croissant, "Like if he's difficult to deal with?" Oliver snorted in responce, while the darkhaired man in front of her nodded. "He was polite.", she paused, "But he's also a defense attorney." A whistle, "Oof. And he was fine with you takin' the report?" "It's not like we're going to trial now, are we?", a chuckle left her, "He wants his stuff found, that's all." "How the fuck can he get his suitcase stolen like that?", Oliver interrupted, "Like I heard his story, but damn, I tried so hard not to laugh." "Ollie." "What, Rina? Tell me it wasn't funny. Hell, imagine going to meet a client and not having even a clean pair of undies." Stockton laughed at that, pointing back at Oliver, "Is it true what this one said, he 'looks like Leslie, but shorter'?" "Maxie, when have I lied to you?" "Only the last time we played cards, asshole." Oliver blew him a kiss before he took a sip of his coffee. "Well?", Stockton pushed for an answer, "Leslie look-a-like or nah?" Sabrina chewed on the bite of her pastry slowly, images from the video call invading her mind, "Absolutely not." "Now that's a lie, Rina.", Oliver argued and spun around in his chair to regard them both, "Not only does he look like Leslie, but he also wants in her pants as much. Probably."
"You're lucky I love this croissant, or it'd be flying at your head, Oliver." He stuck his tongue out, "Love ya, too." The door opening cut out his laughter, "Speaking of the taller Devil." "Morning, guys.", Leslie Parish muttered in a greeting and walked over to the desk next to hers and dropped off his things. The strange expression on his face gave her a pause and prompted Stockton to clear his throat before he rose up to leave. "I will get going, better start looking into the case. Recover our lawyer friend's luggage back." On his way out saluted Leslie, then patted Oliver on the back, "Later, folks." "The lawyer?", Leslie started, peeling off his coat and placing it over the back of his chair. Sabrina shook her head, "He's not our problem." He strode over, taking a seat at the edge of her desk as he stole the final bite of her croissant, "Not from what Ollie told me." "How many people did you tell, Oliver?" Oliver shrugged, hiding his face behind one of the files he had open on his desk, "I plead the fifth." The eyebrow Leslie quirked told her everything she needed to know before he even elaborated, "Oliver was straight up updating us all live in your Birthday group chat." "Unbelievable. And here I thought you were working hard, McKenzie." A wink was sent her way, "You're underestimating me. I can absolutely multitask, Donovan." "So, back to this guy…", Leslie's blue eyes searched hers. "Later." A nod, "Deal. I'm taking you out for lunch, you can tell me all about him then." Oliver spun around with a victorious smirk, "See, I knew there was something. He asked you out, didn't he?" Sabrina turned to her computer monitor, logging in and pulling up the CCTV footage she had spent half of the previous day combing through, "I plead the fifth, too."
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Tagging, @adelaidedrubman @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @poisonedtruth @chazz-anova @strafethesesinners @strangefable @trench-rot @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @g0dspeeed @direwombat @voidika @theelderhazelnut @v0idbuggy @euryalex @florbelles @corvosattano @purplehairsecretlair @dumbassdep @cassietrn @simplegenius042 @jillvalentinesday @nightbloodbix and anyone with something to share <3
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bleeping-cartoon · 1 year
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who are they
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yahoo201027 · 4 months
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Day in Fandom History: May 29…
After arriving at Homeworld and getting separated from Lars, Steven is put on trial for everything that Rose Quartz has done with a Zircon as his attorney to defend him in front of both Blue and Yellow Diamonds. “The Trial” premiered on this day, 7 Years Ago.
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petramysticaclxv · 1 year
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toapril day 5 prompt: The heart that bleeds gold
of course it would be our fav olympian to represent :D (def did not slap a random background from the ibisxpaint free imports)
i took the hair from one of my previous fanarts and voila
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