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#new wr
superdz555 · 3 months
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FIRST EVER SUB-8 ON christmas adventur2
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amelia-yap · 1 year
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here
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viridiansunset · 2 months
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Vieux Carré
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We thought we got one glasses pic. But nope. It's not one. Not two. Not three. Not four.
It's five glasses pics.
And one is better than the other! 😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍
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malarkgirlypop · 6 months
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MEDIC Part 16 (Donald Malarkey x Fem!OC)
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Hey guys, listen it's gonna get happy soon, hehe, maybe. Oh god I just keep writing sad stuff. I swear I am so happy and funny in real life! I just like to dump all of my feelings and sadness onto Emily, cause then it isn't my problem but hers and she's not real so... my problems aren't real. OK! ahahah. Also I am so so so so sorry for this is the slowest slow burn of all time, if you are here for romance I am totally sorry. I just want them to kiss, but then it isn't the right time, like idk if I make them get together while she is just going through it. Plus I feel so mean for Don he always helps her and he's just fine. IDK ahhh a lot going on up in my brain. Based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters, no hate to anyone involved.
Tag list: @next-autopsy, @xxluckystrike (let me know if anyone else wants to be on the tag list 🥰, totally understand if you don't, this is the most depressing story and if you're having a good day I'm sure it will ruin it.)
Emily stands from her crouched position, striding over to the Nazi soldier. She stands over his body, tilting her head to analyse the dead man. But she doesn’t see a man nor a human. She sees filth. Pig scum who was a waste of space and air. She kicks his leg hard, but he stares up at the sky. Emily bends down picking up the gun slung across his body, she yanks it free. She checks the ammo, seeing the gun is still full, she scavenges over the body taking his magazine. She stands tall walking to where the assault happens, she strolls past her own men who yell at her to take cover. They look at each other confused, wondering why the medic is holding a German gun and walking straight into fire. She spots a group of German soldiers who take cover behind a hay bale. Her finger squeezes the trigger spraying the men in fire. She watches as they fall like dominos. She moves to where they were, firing more shots into the bodies to ensure they are dead. A round fires near her all missing, she scoffs, turning her attention to where the shots came from. Emily picks up her gun, shooting the men down one by one. She marches over to where they were stationed. One man that she had missed scrambles back from her, she notes he looks young, like the boy who’s blood covered her face and chest. She pins the boy to the floor, getting in his face.
“This is for them!” She snarls as she pulls the pistol from her pocket. 
She gets up from the now lifeless body picking up her discarded semi-automatic weapon, continuing on her warpath. She walks back out into the opening as if taunting the men to shoot. She stands with dead eyes, her hair loose from the vigorous movement, blowing across her face. Her men stampede either side of her, taking the advantage she just created for them. She tosses her now empty gun to the side but still grips her pistol tightly. A firm grip lands on her shoulder. She doesn’t hesitate, whipping around, she aims the gun right at the man's head. Familiar eyes locking onto hers.
I hold the pistol right between Malarkey’s eyes, the tang of blood on my tongue and the stench of copper on my clothes. I exhale shakily, eyes frantically darting around. 
“Em, you’re ok!” Malarkey grips the barrel moving it down from his face. 
I step back, dropping the gun to the ground. I take in my hands tacky with blood, I go to wipe them on my front but the green uniform is stained red. Tears spring to my eyes, my heart pounds in my ears. What happened? I look again at my hands, they shake as I recollect the scene that just unfolded. I killed those men. I killed a young boy. I caused the life to leave from his eyes. I shake my head, frantically trying to wipe the blood from my hands, it won’t leave my skin. I drop to my knees tearing at my clothes trying to find my canteen. I pull it from my belt pouring the water over my hands, I desperately rub them together to wash away the stains. I grab at my button’s needing to get the smell that permeates in my nose off my body. I shake violently, unable to unfasten the buttons. “Help me!” I beg Malarkey who watches me with a sympathetic look on his face. He kneels in front of me, undoing my shirt, he helps me to pull it off. I touch my fingers to my face, finding more blood. I pour water from my canteen onto my hand rubbing the liquid into my face. I sob as I wash. Snot mixing in with the blood and tears. I tear at my skin not feeling clean enough. My wrists are grasped. 
“Em, please stop, you’re hurting yourself!” Malakey begs me. I gasp for air in between sobs. 
“What did I do?” I choke out. Malarkey and I kneel in the open field as he holds my wrists. The sound of gunshots slowly dissipating. He shakes his head, unable to find the words to tell me, not knowing how to put what he saw. 
“I killed those men?” I ask, not believing my blurry memories. 
“Em you weren’t yourself.” Malarkey tries to explain. I wasn’t there, felt like I was pushed back into my mind and I lost all control. Like falling asleep. 
“I murdered those people, Don. This is their blood. I… killed them.” I hyperventilate, shaking my head. Trying to rid my mind of the images that flash behind my eyelids. I gag, retching the contents of my stomach onto the ground. Don watches, sitting helplessly in front of me. “I can’t, I can’t.” I muffle my screams behind my hand. I curl over myself. Pressing my head to the ground. I grip at the grass underneath, hoping that something will help my world stop spinning. I dig my nails into the ground tearing at the earth. I sob uncontrollably, choking on my own breaths. I have never felt this pain in my life. Like my soul is being torn from me. Like everything is being ripped from my body. Unbearable. I wail. Unconsolable.
“EM!” Don pleads with me. He moves to my side, raising me from my hunched position on the ground. He presses me into him, my chest against his. His hands in my hair, pressing my face into his neck. I sob still. His hands rub circles on my back, soothing my hair down. Don rocks us. 
“Em this is not your fault. Shhh you’re alright.” He coos in my ear. I hiccup, the cries easing from my throat. I feel the tears still sliding down my face, pooling on his shirt. I grip at him, Don stops my world spinning. I hold on for dear life, worried he could slip away if I loosen my grip. 
“I’m so sorry.” I whisper, into the air. I send it out into the universe.
“I’m so sorry.” I see the men's faces, cold and still. Young men, lives ahead of them, I took it. Their chance to live. I took their opportunities. I took a mother’s son, a sibling, a friend. I can’t justify my actions, there was no rationale, no means. I took advantage of the hatred I held and turned it against them. They were following orders, just like our men, just like me. I was the one out of line, I did not follow my orders. I look up at Don, his eyes meet mine. No disappointment in his face, just sorrow. The other men come back, the assault is over. We need to keep moving to Noville. If we sit out in the open we make ourselves more vulnerable. I hear crunching footsteps approach us. 
“Let’s get moving.” Lip says to Don. I move to get up but Don holds me close. I look up at him, I nod my head, showing him I’m fine. He lets me go, I move to stand. I shudder looking at my clothes. I lift my head trying to distract myself. I still feel the blood coating my skin. I just want to get somewhere I can change. We walk in silence, Don close to my side. We hang back from the rest of the men. I’m ashamed, I don’t want them to see me like this, covered in blood. That is a normal state for me but this feels different, this blood was not shed from a wound I was trying to fix. It was shed from maleficence, my malice, my hatred. Lip walks in front of us, casting his glance back every so often to make sure I’m still there. I can’t read his expression, but I know he is disappointed, all of the men will be. 
We set up camp in one of the houses on the outskirts of town. By the time we reach it night has fallen. I wait outside by myself asking Don to go and get me a new uniform, I don’t want to be paraded through the house in my blood soaked clothes and skin. 
He re-emerges out of the house holding clean clothes for me.
“There is a stream not too far away, would you want to go wash there?” Don asks, I nod. There were no showers or places for me to wash here. I would take a cold stream over anything else. I followed behind him, he still held my clothes for me. We used a small torch to light our way. We didn’t talk on our journey, but it was short, we arrived at the stream soon enough. Snow covered the ground but thankfully the stream hadn’t frozen over due to the running water through it. He placed my clothes on a rock.
“I will wait for you up on the bank.” He said and left. I stripped down to my underwear, untying my hair from its bun. I took off my shoes and socks last. My feet burning from the cold underneath my soles. I stepped tentatively into the stream, gasping at the coldness. I walked further in the water coming to my waist. It was freezing, my breathing quickened due to how cold it was. I took a deep breath and sank beneath the water. I didn’t stay under long, my urge to gasp from the cold forcing me to resurface again. My teeth chattered but I persisted. I scrubbed my skin from the dried blood. I washed my face, my hair, and my hands. Washing away all of the bloodshed I'd caused. I didn’t realise it but I was sobbing as I washed. I slipped under the water again, my body now more used to the cold. It was quiet under the surface, muffled and muted from the outside world. My heavy bones felt light floating in the water. But I couldn’t hold my breath forever, I needed to surface at some point and face the world again. That felt all too real. I broke the surface, gulping in air. My body was numb by this point from the cold. I needed to get changed before I got too cold. I stood moving back to the edge, walking out, I dried myself with the towel that Don had brought for me. He was always so thoughtful, and I had pushed him away. Guess I didn’t learn my lesson last time. Luckily I couldn’t push him away so easily, we were in the same company, I had to see him everyday. I got dressed quickly, making my way back up to where Don waited for me. A soft smile formed on his lips seeing me clean again. He opened his mouth to say something but I walked into his chest, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into me. He stayed quiet but wrapped his arms around my back squeezing me. 
“I’m so sorry, Don.” I whispered into his neck, “I was being selfish. I pushed you away. But I don’t want to be apart from you.” Tears ran down my cheeks as we held each other still. “I want to remember them with you. I don’t want to forget them.” His hand rubbed up and down my back. 
“We will remember them, Em. Those guys will be with us forever.” He said softly into my hair. He knew exactly how to comfort me. I pulled back to smile at him, his thumb brushing away the tears on my cheeks. 
“As long as you have me, we won’t forget. And you can’t get rid of me that easily.” He grinned at me, making me laugh tearily. 
“I don’t want to get rid of you.” I shook my head. “I’ve decided to keep you, for as long as I can.” He grinned at me nodding his head. 
We made our way back to the house. The building was warm due to all the bodies packed into it. I was ready to crash, I had been running on fumes for days. The quiet chatter died when we walked back into the house, I was very aware of all of the eyes watching me. I walked closer to Don trying to hide behind him, but it was no use. I looked down at my feet as we walked, finally making it to where Don had saved a spot for us on the floor. What were they thinking? They had all seen it happen, so surely they all knew about it. Did they hate me now? See me as a monster? I bit my lip nervously, thoughts swirling in my head. Don’s warm hand landed on top of mine, he gave me a reassuring smile. I nodded not needing to speak, we both knew what we were saying without words. 
“Do you mind?” Malarkey said loudly turning to the group of men, they all looked away from us, their chatter resuming. I laid down, resting my head on my bag, he pulled the blanket over the both of us, resting beside me.        
“Tomorrow will be easier.” He squeezed my hand before rolling over away from me. I fell asleep not long after. Tomorrow will be easier.  
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jennrypan · 2 months
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..I think it's very obvious when a mixed poc listens more to their white parent 😶
The brain dead takes I be seeing in regards to G3 Clawdeen is staggering like..yall don't have enough biracial characters to harp on?? The fuck.
G3 is so outrageously..white and made for white and other white passing people. Idk how to explain it but thats all I see what this show.
(And no. Some lgbt rep doesn't make this a good show. A few steps forward shouldn't ignore the several other steps back. Be so fr.)
It wouldve been GREAT if they just used new characters cuz like..I think we've gotten past the need for reboots, they're NEVER good (and they've made monster high seem far less accepting which..is a choice. And its not even about fashion anymore?? Like..do kids these days not like fashion dolls or something?? Cmon now.)
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moonshynecybin · 4 months
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but does marc start picking vale again come 2021 because he's been out injured and wants the comfort? realized marc hasn't won a race since vale retired
i pull the plug on this scenario HARD around jerez 2020 because i become well. quite sad. and marc does have SOME self respect like i think post 2018 he's determined to internalize that vale doesnt want him so he just chooses people he trusts (dovi) and doesnt fuck them like its an open secret. which is why it WILL be so bananas to him when vale shows up every race weekend in 2024 and asks him kind and thoughtful questions about his life with his active listening face. which WILL happen.
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lskamil27 · 6 months
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a certain type of longing
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pwnicholson · 2 months
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View from Laguardia by Paul Nicholson
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sunmisbf · 28 days
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hope is a very dangerous thing for a miyane like me to have… but i have it
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bitegore · 1 year
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[id: motormaster walks through a doorway carrying a bag of takeout with a vague smile on his face. He has a thought-bubble coming from his head that reads "Since I no longer express my emotions through violence, I hope my teammates can come to trust me as a leader, and maybe even as... a friend :)" Standing on both sides of the door are Wildrider and Drag Strip, holding rakes and grinning deviously at the camera. Overlaid on top of the image in Impact font are the words: This is going to be so fucking funny, bottom text" end id]
My brother Billy teammate Motormaster had a ten-foot willy Till he showed it to the girl next door She thought it was a snake, so she hit it with a rake And now it's only six foot four
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paintmeinpoems · 1 year
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I am trying my best to hang on, but I do believe I will die a poet's death.
By my own hand,
After documenting my final, painful thoughts.
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Vyshyvanka Day couple's picture 🥹😍❤️🥹😍❤️🥹😍❤️
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rhythmmortis · 10 months
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truly no one is doing it like her
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if you’re still doing mutual bingo may i please get BINGOED :3 (only if you want/are still doing it hehehe) also here are 2 lil memes that reminded me of you as a little treat………. P.S. GOOD LUCK ON YOUR MYSTERY FIC I’M SO EXCITED TO FIND OUT WHO IT IS/READ IT!!!! MWAH MWAH MWAHHHH 🙂‍↕️🩷 - @dollsuguru
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KAIROOOOO MY BESTIE <333333 OFC YOU CAN GET BINGOED!!!!!!! AND THANK YOU FOR THE MEMES SOBSS I AM COLLECTING THEM ….. jinshi n kenny our silly little guys…… they’re so Me
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kingofthering · 4 months
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💥 for the ask game! :)
💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you’re most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!
I guess I might have unexpectedy been spending time thinking about the WR universe lately so let's have an extract from Barcelona.
Valentino watches Marc, waiting for his reaction. Marc has always prided himself in his ability to differenciate the on-track and the off-track stuff. Valentino watches the switch operates in front of his eyes for the first time.
Marc's shirt goes and Valentino's eyes are immediately drawn to the expanse of skin in front of him, trying to catalogue the ways in which Marc has changed since the last time Valentino saw him like this. There is a bruise above his left hip and a redness that Valentino refrains himself from asking about just under Marc's right collarbone.
Valentino doesn't expect Marc to straddle him, doesn't expect Marc to place both of his hands on Valentino's cheeks, doesn't expect Marc to tilt his head up and kiss him.
Valentino has never been good at predicting Marc's moves. It's something he's both adored and hated about him ever since they met. Something he'll probably never make his peace with, either.
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