#lovewave

[lnocencia]

[fulminatoin]

the.stars.collector on ig

[vurd-ed]

Lovewave Alien custom 💞🌴🍨

[aijamisespava]

It's Taking Over Me: Another Dive

When looking through Armenia's history in Eurovision, my eyes were drawn to one particular entry. This entry did really well, being one of the half of the Armenia entries that finished in the top 10 in the contest.

This entry is 2016's "LoveWave" by Iveta Mukuchyan.

Armenia went the internal selection route that year, which has become custom as of late. Mukuchyan was selected on October 13, 2015 (so around this time), and then the song was released on March 2, 2016.

The song participated in the first Semi-Final in the 2016 contest, and qualified for the Grand Final (later learning that it finished 2nd in the Semi). The song then closed the Grand Final and took home a 7th place with 249 points.

From what I've seen for the entry, it has become a fan favorite, with many fans considering this their personal winner for 2016, favorite Armenian entry, or both. And it's a great song with powerful vocals, and an amazing violin solo in the middle.

[itsdafuckhause]

Lovewave in the hentai bikini armor and Cullen (BOOOOOO) loving it.

[amonrastbrowns]

eurovision 2016-2019 being unblocked in the usa goes perfectly with my rewatching of 2000-2020 i’m so happy :D

[largetriangles]

Split Personalities (Album) - 12 Rods

[euphoriabled]

Closed Lyric Starter for @storiecraft || Wicked Starter Call.

⸻ Any kindness Elphaba had once seen in Madame Morrible's eyes has faded, the perfect imitation of warmth making way for true WICKEDNESS. Elphaba's little OUTBURSTS had been a delightful little quirk when they played into Morrible's plans for the girl, but she'd simply gone too far this time. Playtime was over.

❝ You only had to fake it once, ❞ Morrible speaks, her words cold as ice. She only had to do a couple of favors for the Wizard, and then she could have done as she pleased. Morrible had seen so much of her own power and ambition in Elphaba.

She should have paid more attention in color theory. Wear rose-tinted glasses while looking at emeralds, and you'll be left with nothing but shit.

❝ You made friends with the enemies. ❞ Morrible chided, alluding to animals such as Dr. Dillamond. Thrusting her arms out like a defeated mother speaking to a child mid-tantrum, she continues. ❝ I had to cut them off. ❞

[queenofsliferred]

Lovewave Lavellan...

[lnocencia]

[fulminatoin]

[ruburee]

Lovewave- Our Sea 🎧

"A long night. you who flash and are like an endless dream still shine on my heart in that sea.."

( I really enjoyed this, this was for a Kairi zine called "Step Forward" I participated in)

[lunatf-ao3]

I'm so obsessed with your writings! Can I request a smut TFP Soundwave x fem! Human reader please? Bonus if you like to add the tentacle action. 👀

LOVEWAVE ᯾

[TFP] Soundwave/Human!Reader

[⚠︎]: nsfw, tentacles, anal intrusion, oral intrusión

Thank you so much! You've no idea how happy makes me to know that so many people enjoy this little fics. And I'm really, really sorry for answering this SO late.

-

"Sound-" You barely manage to utter part of its name before its cables invade your throat, long and uncomfortable, with a slight taste of metal and plastic. You can't do anything to defend yourself, especially when the small claws squeeze your cheeks, gagging you.

On the screen of its visor, you can only see a bright, beating pink heart. Laserbeak had already withdrawn from its chest, predicting the intimate moment since morning, when Soundwave already had its plans for the day laid out.

The wet, flexible rest of the tentacle that silences you runs down your neck, wrapping around you like a snake until your arms are immobilized at your sides, with a particularly warm part on your nipples. It stopped meticulously at your belly, holding your body upright on Soundwave's giant berth.

The second tentacle doesn't hesitate to join in, running down your legs until it reaches your sex, where it rubs slowly, applying just the right amount of sweet pressure to your clitoris.

It reminds you intensely of hentai porn featuring tentacle monsters with minds of their own.

This is probably something similar.

You squirm a little, the stimulating sensation sending spasms through your legs. The divisions that articulate the length feel good, its movement is slow, and the texture of the folds generates enough friction to make you wet like a fountain.

"Sloud-" You stammer an attempt to pronounce its name, but you are soon harassed by the cables that lengthen and invade your mouth rudely. Saliva slides down your chin.

The stimulation on your clit has stopped, but instead you feel it moving away to caress your ass, a languid caress that is too intense for your liking.

But it's not as if you can complain.

The movement is sudden when you feel the wet cables poking your asshole, moving around wildly. The sound of claws closing and retracting alerts you, and in a second you feel the cold tip press against the tight flesh.

The only thing you can do is shudder. A hint of excitement makes your stomach ache, and your face slowly flushes.

Soon it broke through your barrier with ease, invading your tight little channel with familiarity. You can only let out a muffled squeal.

It doesn't hurt too much, but the feeling of invasion makes you shudder. Too thick, pushing its way between your walls like an overwhelming sensation, slow and forceful.

Only when you feel yourself on the edge does it stop, as if it knows exactly where to go in your body. Without rushing, the tentacle began to move, coming out halfway to re-enter just as slowly.

You couldn't see your butt, but the sensation was enough to make your eyes water.

It felt extremely good. Not pleasure, but... satisfaction.

There is a difference. Probably.

When your eyes turn to him again, you can see his spike already out in the open, carefully lubricated. You don't know specifically how many modifications he has made to his body, but you know he definitely did something to his spike.

It was thick, tapering slightly to the tip, like a tentacle.

You like it, you like it a lot, because it's definitely something he would do.

It makes him unique.

As you would imagine, he also has control over that part of his body.

He takes a few steps toward you with an emotion that only you can perceive, manipulating you with his tentacles, bringing you closer until the tip of his spike rubs between your wet lips.

A few stubborn drops had run down your thighs and others had fallen, creating a mess on the floor.

Gently, he penetrated you. His length runs through your insides, acceptable at first, until the thickness begins to fight against your tight entrance.

Soundwave didn't give up, pushing until you bit him and the base was deep inside you.

The sight of the union was extremely pleasing to his hidden optics. Your skin struggling to take him in completely, stretched and taut around him.

He moved only his hips, the rest of his structure motionless as if it were unnecessary. His spike emerges from your overwhelmed sex, ready to reenter with a forceful thrust.

Despite his immobility, he had no problem leaning down to bring his visor to your cheek. You interpret it as a small kiss.

For him, it is.

[itsdafuckhause]

This is Lovewave. She was formerly a dragon age oc but I decided to just make her a generic hentai elf oc for my fictional world. Her breast milk still heals all wounds though.

[heavenbloom]

🇵🇸 BEFORE YOU READ: DONATE • BOYCOTT TLOU • GAZAN MUTUAL AID MASTERLIST

❆ — 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫

song: the night — lovewave

summary: a letter addressed to abby anderson, twenty years after the two of you parted.

warnings: 18+ mdni, literally straight up angst, letter format, from reader’s pov, set in the future, not proofread.

a/n: this is entirely inspired by moonlit winter (2019). this’ll probably be boring af but i love love that goes beyond time and the physical and i love mundane yet emotional movies <3

The icy air nipped at your fingertips, the chill tracing unforgiving trails from them to the bottom of your soles.

The snowfall was thick this time of year and it painted the small town in hushed tones. The only thing heard in the white noonday was the laboured crunch of your boots and the heave of your breath against your thick woollen scarf.

The cold barely registered, though, as you dipped your hand into your coat pocket. The thin, glossy edge of an envelope crinkled at the contact.

How could something so small and hidden conceal a whole lifetime within it? It felt like it was burning a hole where it sat, yearning to reunite with your being, to settle there and remain a secret.

The sound of your footfalls ceased, and you let out a slow exhale. A plume of air swelled in front of your vision, softening the edges of everything.

The post office box was rimmed with ice. It stood as lonesome as you did, on this drowsy street, in a town you knew so well now, yet not nearly enough as you should have. It was hard to be a part of something when you always had one eye gazing back at the past.

This would hopefully change that. A parting gift. A farewell to somebody you had said goodbye to long ago.

You reached for the letter.

⋆⁺₊❅.

Dear Abby,

It’s been a long time, hasn’t it?

I don’t know if I will send this letter, but I can imagine the look on your face if you ever do receive it. Bushy, furrowed brows and downcast eyes… you never looked up when you were puzzled about something. It was if you had to retreat into yourself in order to make sense of the world around you.

The woman that I see receiving this is youthful and vibrant, forever frozen in the sands of my memory. Lines have begun to etch my features, and with each year that passes by, they deepen. It must be the same for you. It has to be, right? But the image of you, aged, eludes me.

I often imagine what kind of person you are now. Did you ever marry? Have children? Do you live in a house with a garden bursting with the smells of overripe berries and fresh herbs, like the one we fantasised about owning all those years ago? These are the reveries that have teeth, that sink and gnaw at something unspoken within me.

I did know you, once, but I’m unsure I do now. Does the soul change over time, or just the meat and bone that surrounds it?

I’ve experienced more of my life with your absence as opposed to your presence. I moved to a quiet corner of the world and made a life for myself. The summers here are mild and the winters are the never-ending and silent kind that we never saw back home. It’s somewhere that you would despise.

Maybe that’s why you plague my mind so often. This town is a place where I know you’d never find yourself in. Back then, I was running away from you and in a way, I still am. Like visiting an attic that one knows is haunted, I think of you.

I dream of you, too. Mundane, meaningless. Nothing happens in these dreams, but you’re there, shining. A wisp of blonde hair, the starlight of a freckled shoulder… the same.

I guess this sameness is what compelled me to write this. I’ve been walking through my life with my head craned back towards the past, so much so that I couldn’t see where I was headed. Now I’ve stopped, in the middle of it, in this purgatory. It can’t go on, Abby. At some point, I have to turn to face the future. I should have long ago.

I’m made up of regrets, but what good will they do now? Instead of listing the should-haves, I’ll tell you the truth;

This is not the first letter I’ve written that’s dedicated to you, but it will be the first I’ve ever had the courage to send. Let it be the last.

I’m sorry if what we shared has also left you with scars and an endlessness of seeking. I’m sorry that I was cowardly, and that I still am.

Thank you for the sliver of sweetness that you gave to me. Thank you for loving me like you meant it. I hope you know that I meant it, too. Everything I did, every word and every touch, was honest.

But I have lived with its death. Now I must let it rot.

Goodbye, Abby. Be braver than I am.