woman of empty

A miscarriage is a natural and common event.  All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven’t.  Most don’t mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn’t happened, so people imagine that a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had. 

But ask her sometime: how old would your child be now?  And she’ll know.

—  Barbara Kingsolver

mirandatam  asked:

Hm... something about Rey and the ghost of Shmi Skywalker?

Rey is 273 days on Jakku when the woman with the dark eyes and the faint lines around her eyes bends down, and helps her wash the dust and debris from a hyperspace drive port. (Two and a half portions, never let it be said that Rey doesn’t know her worth.) “There,” the woman says, and when she smiles the lines around her eyes carve even deeper. When Rey drags the brush over the drive port, no sand kicks up. “Shiny and new. Go on, now—you can’t let him run out of portions.”

“’m Rey,” Rey says, breathless, clutching the port to her chest.

“Go!” the woman says, and Rey runs. She gets in line just in time to get the last three portions from Unkar. But when tries to find the woman after—

The sand is empty of sentients, and no one seems to know the human woman with dark hair, darker eyes, not even when Rey wanders among the camps and asks for her. Rey is only 273 days, and hungry, and so she eats there, squatted down in the sand outside someone’s tent—scarfing down half-mixed portions because she’s dizzy with starving, and she can’t wait. If the dark-haired woman wanted some, she should have been easier to find.

Rey sleeps that night full—or, at least, what she thinks is full—and dreams of a wattle-and-daub hut, and a woman with dark hair, dark eyes, laughing. The woman’s son sits with sun-bleached hair, his mouth is skewed as he works on a droid to help his mother with the customers that come. Rey helps too, and when he smiles at her, it feels like coming-home.

They are so happy, and Rey wakes crying, even though that is water she cannot afford to lose.

.

“No, not that one,” the woman says, and Rey drops the part like it burns her hand to touch. She whirls around, and there is the woman with the dark eyes, dark hair. She’s smiling, a little bemusedly, at Rey, at the specific part Rey was trying to extract from the mess of decay and rust.

“What’s wrong with it?” Rey demands. She is six hundred and seven days now, and she thought—

“Navigation systems are fiddly,” the woman says, stepping towards her, and then she is there, close enough for Rey to touch, to—“Biologic growth damages them first, interferes with the electro-magnetic signaling. This has—” she grunts, and the part comes away in her hand. “This has overgrown. It’s not worth installing again, it’ll just send the ship off-course trying to follow all those awful fractals.”

“What good does that do me?” Rey asks, thinking of all the portion she’s lost, if this stranger is right. She’d just wanted—

But the stranger smiles, and her eyes crinkle at the corners. “Come on,” she says, lowering herself to sit on the durasteel floor of the mighty star destroyer. “I’ll show you a trick my unscrupulous master showed me, on how to make it look as though tech has never been damaged.”

Rey spends the whole afternoon with her chin hooked over the woman’s soft shoulder, watching as she shows Rey how to reroute, undo, lay down new electric pathways. She smells like something sharp, the way Rey has always imagined ozone would smell if Rey had ever found the courage to leave the atmosphere. Her eyes are older than her face, that much Rey knows for sure.

“There you go,” the woman finally says, pressing the piece into Rey’s hand. “Good as new. Plutt won’t even be able to tell the difference, so you shouldn’t accept less than five and a quarter portions—”

“What about you?” Rey asks. The woman is warm, and alive, and human, and Rey finds herself hoping she’s her mother. Just to have something, someone. And especially her, with her crinkled eyes, the way she rests a hand against Rey’s cheek like—

“Oh, I’m fine,” the woman says, and Rey’s heart falters. “You will be full, on five and a quarter portions. That’s enough.”

Rey eats alone, eats until she is sick on constituted bread and meat, and she lies in her own bed biting down on her fist to keep herself from crying.

.

Sometimes, Rey looks out of the corner of her eye, and there she is, the woman with the dark hair and the dark eyes. “Hello, Mother,” Rey begins greeting her at some point, muttered in between breaths as she extracts another part, as she wakes from her midday nap in the shadowy berth of a star destroyer, as she forces herself to stay longer, work harder.

Sometimes, she hears someone murmur, hello, daughter, but she’s not sure. She’s not.

.

Poor affection-starved Rey, longing for a family, any family, even a ghost. Even the vague shape, even a shadow. Even the hint of a mother, whispering in her ear, droids have always been harbingers of good news, of better things ahead. Strangers may be angels. You are more. Run, go. I will follow you there.

Rey  isn’t sure, really, but in the barracks of D’Qar, Rey tosses and turns, until a cool hand comes to rest on her forehead, her neck. Shhh, a voice that is not quite the Force but might be something similar, whispers. It strokes its cool knuckles over the rabbit-pulse of her jugular. Shh, rest. You have a war to fight in the morning.

Shh.

 Shhhhhhh.

.

Luke has holos of his family—Padmé Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, Uncle Owen and Aunt Beru Whitesun-Lars. But it’s the holo of their their step-mother, Shmi, that stops Rey in her tracks, stops her breathing at all. Anakin’s mother, Luke says, but Rey is holding onto he lightsaber too tightly to hear.

I know her, she says, and Luke goes still, blinks. 

Oh?

She used to—sing me lullabies, Rey says, because that’s all she can remember just now, the dark-haired-dark-eyed woman—Shmi Skywalker, chosen to be Mother of the Living Force, blessed, holy—humming in Rey’s darkened AT-AT. Shmi singing in Huttese; warm and calloused hands, a rough voice singing of how much she loved, would protect—

Luke catches Rey before she hits her knees, gathers her up to his chest. Shh, Luke murmurs, stroking her hair as Rey sobs. Shhh, it’s all right. Everything will—it’ll turn out right. It’ll be—it’ll be right.

Rey feels a cool touch at her forehead (impossible, Luke’s hands are hot at her waist, and—) and she sobs again, feeling hollow, feeling like she’s come home, somehow, impossibly. It is a war, she shouldn’t feel….

Shh, Luke and his grandmother whisper together, cradling Rey against the bulwark of light they represent. Shh.

Russian Superstitions

Omens/Protection

  • Knocking on wood is practiced in Russia as in other countries. However Russians tend to add a symbolic three spits over one’s left shoulder (or simply with the head turned to the left), and Russians will often knock three times as well. Traditionally one was spitting on the devil (who is always on the left).
  • Returning home for forgotten things is a bad omen. It is better to leave it behind, but if returning is necessary, one should look in the mirror before leaving the house again. Otherwise the journey will be bad.
  • If one feels that he or she may have been cursed by someone (the evil eye) or just has the feeling of a hostile presence, it is recommended to remove one’s coat and then put it back on starting with the hand opposing the usually used one. It is also recommended to pin a French Pin inside your clothing to avoid the curse of the evil eye in the first place.
  • Birds that land on a windowsill should be chased away. If they tap on the window, or fly into it (open or closed) it is considered a very bad omen (often of death).
  • A woman with empty water buckets coming towards you is considered a bad omen.
  • It is bad luck to use physical hand gestures to demonstrate something negative using oneself or someone else as the object. For example, when describing a scar you saw on someone’s face you should not gesture on your own face or someone else’s. If you must, you can demonstrate in mid-air. If one does it without realising, it can be countered by making a hand motion towards the body part used and then an abrupt motion away (as if to pick up the bad energy and throw it away) or by wiping the area with your hand and then blowing on your hand (as if to wipe off the bad energy and then blow it away).
  • Looking into a broken mirror almost certainly brings bad luck. The superstition says that if you look into a broken mirror, you break your inner world, and your soul becomes defenceless against the dark forces.

Love

  • Never give yellow flowers to your lover, as it implies that an argument will happen and your relationship will end.
  • Lucky in cards not lucky in love. This, however, is only a pre-marital superstition. The reason for the division is that marriage is a sacrament in the Russian Orthodox Church, and this sacrament, ordained by God, eviscerates the pre-marital superstition. Thus, when a man is bonded by divine sacrament to a single woman whom he loves the cause and effect is reversed: namely, his married love for a single woman, and her love for him, will bring him good fortune in all endeavors including cards.
  • During the wedding ceremony, the bride and groom carry candles. Whoever’s candle died first, was the one who would die first.
  • If a woman puts too much salt on the meals this means she is in love.
  • Do not take your wedding ring off to show it to someone else, or worse still to let them try it on. The wedding ring is worn on your fourth finger, which is the one under the influence of the sun, and is a sign of our heart’s true love. If you take it off to show to another, it means you are giving away your love and happiness to a stranger.
  • In Russian superstition if a couple sets a wedding date and doesn’t end up getting married on that date they can not set another date and should not get married as their union will be cursed.

Cause And Effect

  • If your ears or cheeks are hot, someone is thinking or talking about you (usually speaking ill).
  • If your right eye itches, you’re going to be happy soon. If your left eye itches, you’ll be sad.
  • If you have hiccups, someone is remembering you at this moment.
  • If an eyelash falls out you’ll receive a gift. If someone finds an eyelash on someone he or she will sometimes let the person blow it away and make a wish.
  • If a fork or spoon falls on the ground, expect a female guest. If a knife falls, expect a male guest.
  • If someone sneezes while telling something, it means he or she is telling the truth.

Miscellaneous

  • Russians will typically avoid talking about pending successes. They believe that it is bad luck to talk about upcoming success before it actually occurs.
  • Never greet, or say goodbye to someone in a doorway. The threshold divides people, and in traditional Russian folklore, the house spirit resides here, so this superstition says that your greetings and gifts will not bring fortune or good luck.
  • It is best to cut your hair or nails during a full moon.
  • When someone is talking about something very undesirable or bad, the listener should say in Russian “Типун тебе на язык!” (tipun tebe na yazyk), which is generally translated as “Curse that tongue of yours!”. This expression is not meant to be offensive at all but is rather used as a spell for prevention of evil and bad luck.
  • Moving to the new house one must first let a cat go in first to assure harmony in the household.
  • If you sing on an empty stomach, you will chase your money away.
  • Do not pick up coins from the road. The popular belief is that such coins carry negative energy if they were thrown by a bad person and cause sickness.

anonymous asked:

thoughts on the rolling stone article? overall i thought it was fairly lowkey on the bs meter and thankfully focused the most on harry and his new album

Anonymous said:

What did you think about the Rolling Stone article? It could have been worse, right?


Welp, I was expecting that his promo would follow the established Zayn track in terms of the official narrative. But it was still very disappointing. I shouldn’t be surprised that many in the fandom are downplaying the obvious bullshit. Is it because it’s Harry and there’s the expectation of sincerity whereas we’re used to getting blatant lies from everyone else? Or is it because after Harry being muzzled for this long, it’s a big letdown for his official narrative to beam our exhausted asses back to 2012??

Let me be clear, this is no different than the Zayn articles we got. It’s the same awkward mix of official narrative nonsense and subtle as a sledgehammer rebranding. Harry is now the very deep hipster with well curated taste in music you’re not quite cool enough to be listening to. You are blessed that he’s sharing his philosophical musings with you. Same as how Zayn was rebranded as too damn cool for 1D. You were blessed that he shared his weed fueled musings with you. Yeah ok. It amazes me that people who are deep in the fandom think either narrative is authentic. And it’s not that Harry isn’t a deep hipster or that Zayn is naturally very cool. It that it’s soooo exaggerated because these days everything is written to an audience that is perceived to be rather dumb. It’s insulting.

One of the things that galled me the most was the latest outbreak of Herpes Haylor. I’m supposed to believe that the author thought reanimating that zombie that lived for 2 months 5 damn years ago was more intriguing than asking him about the more recent…

Really?? I know this is the elephant in the room. So in all honesty I didn’t expect this to be brought up. But don’t try to tell me that the new fans Harry is courting give a fuck about Haylor. What I hoped was that he’d be allowed to swerve on the whole thing. If you can’t discuss it honestly then let’s not discuss it at all, k? That’s obviously asking too much.

Also since when is evolved, woman respecting, Harry slut shaming women over the length of their skirts?? And a short skirt means you can’t bring her home to mother? What? The? Fuck? It happens every time with 1DHQ. They can’t frame their narratives from any pov other than sexism and misogyny. I’ve said before they are a very woman hating bunch of troglodytes. And he wrote songs about Kendall? Boring, vapid, vacuous, Kendall inspired uber-deep hipster Harry’s songwriting process? Lies! I hate, hate, hate, that Harry is being used to contribute to the mythos of this empty woman. Bitch, if you wanna be noted, do something noteworthy. Not cringeworthy (hello Pepsi debacle), but noteworthy. 

Another thing that bothers me is Ben Winston (and by extension James Corden) being allowed to use Harry’s feature to promo themselves. Not only that, but sleazy Ben is propping up the official narrative as well. That old story about Harry living in Ben’s attic was dredged up again. Because God forbid you think he was living with Louis. And not only that, the story has been embellished.

“He wasn’t always alone,” corrects Winston, “but it was exciting seeing the array of A-listers that would come up and sleep in the attic.”

Could he sound like any more of a creepy star fucker?? And lowkey imply that Harry just brought home strangers willy nilly and unannounced into his lovely quaint family home like he wasn’t raised right ?? I can’t stand him. And even if these words were put in his mouth, fuck him for allowing it.

So I think the fandom collectively has low standards if they’re ok with this. Because this article was crap. And it’s ok to call it crap. That’s no shade on Harry. Contrary to what many of you wanna believe, he’s still a cog in a machine much bigger than him. I’ll continue to enjoy Harry and the music and cheer for his success because regardless of the shadiness, he deserves to shine. Just understand that this article makes it crystal clear that Harry is in the same boat as the rest of 1D and that none of these guys are free from 1DHQ. That’s an unpleasant wake-up call, but it’s way past time to wake-up.

emmafromthatonenight - A CS AU

7,500 words of what happened after Killian and Emma met at a bar one night, and then when she contacted him via instagram 10 months later. I know that many amazing, wonderful, lovely readers do not care for CS baby fics. So this is a warning- this fic is not for you. 


The bar was exactly what he needed tonight. Dark. Dingy. Someplace no one would ever expect to find Killian Jones. He’d been invited to many parties, all at trendy places a few miles to the west in hipper areas of Boston, but tonight he just wanted to drink around real people with real lives and real problems. Not people whose sole purpose in talking to him was to see what he could do for them. To see if any of that “Killian Jones” magic could transform their lives. It couldn’t. He couldn’t help anyone.

He’d turned his sorrow and skill with a guitar into a successful career, but that was it. It has brought him no happiness, and he had nothing to share with anyone else.

Keep reading

Graves sucks at dating

me and @questionartbox​ were discussing the subject of Graves + dates and

 -

  • Graves is lonely 
  • a lonely little man 
  • and sad 
  • he always comes home to an empty house these days 
  • i mean, sure, his job is exhausting (one doesn’t protect the entire country by twindling their thumbs) 
  • and yeah, sure, he is not the most social man 
  • but still, having someone to come home to 
  • having someone to hug 
  • having someone to do more
  • that would be nice
  • so as usual he grabs the newspaper first thing in the morning and as he debates whether or not going through the effort of hitting on someone is worth it he sees it 
  • (not that he was looking for it, mind you, it’s a simple coincidence) 
  • Lonely Witches And Wizards? the add reads. Gather ‘round for a little bout of speed dating and meet the love of your life! 
  • Graves scoffs and drinks his coffee 
  • the next thing he knows he is sitting at a table in front of a stranger, holding a sheet with questions in his hands to “break the ice” 
  • he clears his throat. the witch is nice looking, but not Graves’ type 
  • “hello,” he says. 
  • Introduce yourself fairly quickly, the sheet reads 
  • “I’m Percival Graves. Nice to meet y -” 
  • Oh my God
  •  Really 
  • I saw your name in the papers 
  • the witch is into him ™, she giggles at anything he says 
  • Graves is uncomfortable 
  • maybe he should have worn a disguise 
  • the wizard after her is boring and not into men, who the fuck arranged these tables 
  • Graves is able to go further in his introductions as another woman takes the empty seat in front of him
  • “Hello, my name is Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security and Head of the Departement of Magical Law Enforcement” 
  • (why is his title so damn long) 
  • “So what do you in your free time?” she asks. “What do you like?” 
  • uuuh. The law? Politics. Fashion, he adds quickly. “i love fashion.” 
  • the woman stares and Graves thinks that this was a terrible idea and he’s all but ready to give up after her when a man takes her place 
  • he is damn cute
  • wow
  • “Hello,” Graves says gently. “What’s your name?” 
  • “Newt. Hm.” Newt looks around widly and doesn’t meet Graves’ eyes 
  • now that’s just rude
  • “not into men?” Graves asks, to save himself the disappointement 
  • “uh? no, no, sorry, i just lost something -” 
  • Newt looks under the table 
  • Graves has ten minutes left with him
  • he sees something moving on the man’s shoulder as Newt comes up again 
  • Is that a bowtrucle?
  • uh 
  • Newt sweats nervously 
  • no, no sir, not at all, it’s just a stick, i was in the woods before 
  • “It’s moving, Newt.”
  • Newt sweats harder 
  • You must be imagining things, Sir, it has to be the heat 
  • We’re in the middle of winter Newt 
  • These establishements really exagerate their warming charms, don’t you think? Ahahah 
  • DID I JUST HEAR A GROWL COMING OUT OF THAT SUITCASE, NEWT 
  • WOW, LOOK AT THE TIME! I HAVE TO GO SIR IM SORRY
  • but Newt can’t leave bc he still have five minutes with Graves 
  • magical charms forcing him to sit back 
  • Graves grins at him like a shark and leans closer
  • this is the most fun he’s had in months 
  • “Why don’t you tell me all about that bowtruckle? How did you get it? How many do you have, Newt?” Graves asks, almost purring
  • Newt gulps loudly 
  • Sir, I promise it is just a stick insect 
  • “It just blew a raspberry at me, Newt” 
  • A stick bug. A walking stick, if you will - 
  • Of course it is, and I am Gellert Grindelwald
  • I hope you’re not
  • I’m not, and that is not a stick bug 
  • Newt sighs 
  • What do you want 
  • Do you have a permit for that bowtruckle? I want to see it 
  • But their time is up 
  • Newt gets up quickly and smiles 
  • WHAT A COINCIDENCE. 
  • IT SEEMS I MUST GO 
  • NEWT NO 
  • DON’T YOU DARE 
  • HAVE A PLEASANT EVENING MR GRAVES 
  • WHAT 
  • NEWT YOU MOTHERFUCKER
  • GET BACK HERE 
  • N E W T 
Symbols for the Degrees: Aquarius

The Sabian Symbols were symbols or “images” designated to each degree of each sign in the zodiac by clairvoyant Elsie Wheeler in 1925. They can be used to paint a specific picture of each of your placements based on its degree.

Originally posted by adrnpp

0th-1st degree: An old adobe mission in California

1st-2nd degree: An unexpected thunderstorm

2nd-3rd degree: A deserter from the Navy

3rd-4th degree: A Hindu yogi demonstrates his healing powers

4th-5th degree: A council of ancestors is seen implementing the efforts of a young leader

5th-6th degree: A masked figure performs ritualistic acts in a mystery play

6th-7th degree: A child is seen being born out of an egg

7th-8th degree: Beautifully gowned wax figures on display

8th-9th degree: A flag is seen turning into an eagle

9th-10th degree: Early morning dew sparkles as sunlight floods the field

10th-11th degree: A man who had, for a time, become the embodiment of a popular ideal is made to realize that, as a person, he is not this ideal

11th-12th degree: On a vast staircase stand people of different types

12th-13th degree: A barometer

13th-14th degree: A train entering a tunnel

14th-15th degree: Two lovebirds sitting on a fence and singing happily

15th-16th degree: A big businessman at his desk

16th-17th degree: A watchdog stands guard, protecting his master and his possessions

17th-18th degree: A man’s secret motives are being publicly unmasked

18th-19th degree: A forest fire is being subdued by the use of water, chemicals, and sheer muscular energy

19th-20th degree: A large white dove bearing a message

20th-21st degree: A disappointed and disillusioned woman courageously faces a seemingly empty life

21st-22nd degree: A rug is placed on the floor of a nursery to allow children to play in comfort and warmth

22nd-23rd degree: A big bear sitting down and waving all its paws

23rd-24th degree: A man, having overcome his passions, teaches deep wisdom in terms of his experience

24th-25th degree: A butterfly with the right wing more perfectly formed

25th-26th degree: A garage man testing a car’s battery with a hydrometer

26th-27th degree: An ancient pottery bowl filled with fresh violets

27th-28th degree: A tree felled and sawed to ensure a supply of wood for the winter

28th-29th degree: A butterfly emerging from a chrysalis

29th-30th degree: Deeply rooted in the past of a very ancient culture, a spiritual brotherhood, in which many individual minds are merged into the flowing light of a unanimous consciousness, is revealed to one who has emerged successfully from his metamorphosis

anonymous asked:

En hoşlaştıklarından Ff? 👅

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Bu kadar yeter size daha ff yok xjxnxknxkxmd

anonymous asked:

ff

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|| how to fall in love ||

{summary: “i wonder if you’ll laugh at my mere existence?”}

here’s a completely fluffy and safe peter parker story that i promised. i’ll admit to being inspired by one of my favorite deviantart writers when i wrote this and hope to write as well as they do one day [♥]

also, this is dedicated to @rvnclawss , because she wrote a cute tom holland drabble for me [♥]

tags [permanent + peter parker]: @ghostedwolf , @psychicwitchphilosopher , @pharaohkiller , @moonlight53 , @tmrhollandkay , @pepcvina , @nekonerdxox , @lokigirl18 , @fangeekkk , @kylielo22 , @wavy-ley , @lghockey , @buckysendoftheline , @1022bridgetp , @potterjamesharry

warnings: none

**please don’t plagiarize/repost this story. reblogs are fine.**

——

Keep reading

Wide-eyed witchcraft wonder

A young woman sits with a small, empty stew pot in her lap, brows furled in concentration as she clumsily butchers a language she doesn’t know, reads incorrectly, and is desperately trying to learn.

And suddenly. Just like that.

It works.

Reflexively she gasps and starts pushing backwards, crawling awkwardly away from the pot as it bellows out an eldritch smoke in a formless, colorless void. Lazily, the smoke curls around itself, knowing the pleasure of existence for the first time. The woman’s back is to the wall and she gasps in fear, delight, surprise, wonder, a complex and overwhelming matrix of emotions. She tries to make herself small, she covers her mouth, she is shaking.

And suddenly, just like that, the smoke dissipates with a small, barely audible *pitihpwa*, a sound like popcorn popping.

And her world is different. 

And witchcraft is no longer an abstract concept.

And she is one of the midnight folk now, with much to learn, much to gain, much to take, and much to give back.

anonymous asked:

Ff versene yakışıklı

@sonbuzukbukucu
@sondepo
@tanricanintekoglu
@tanricaninsapikoglu
@tanricaninkadehi
@siirselutopya
@siyahkalantaraf
@aaasseenn
@adsizalkolikler
@ppizzastevee
@zarardandafazlasiyim
@tanricanintekkizii-deactivated2
@cislikan
@gulumsedivegitti
@yelkovaninakrebi
@angelofgolden
@odunbey
@fantezitanricasi
@hassiktrolok
@olymposunkrali
@hayalperestuuzayli-deactivated2
@queenofevidence
@world-on-firee
@whatsappkonusma
@witchcurls
@whoreulol
@what-isyourstory
@wejustlosers
@empty-woman
@esmerkedicik
@eslesmeyenhomologkromozom
@ettpee
@edakuyin
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@ernadetta
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@royamitiyas
@ruhuyanikbayan
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@rengarenkamasimsiyah-deactivate
@ranacabyle
@tanrinincehennemi
@tanriningamzelikizi
@tanrininoyuncagi
@tanriningolgesi
@yamukzureyfa
@yildizlarkadaryalniz
@yalnizlikhenuzbirbebek
@yalnizlikhenuzbirbebek
@ultralonely
@uykuherseydenonce
@uzaydakisonsuzluk
@un-silenzio-squallido-e-stupendo
@iwantjustfly
@iamrshetfield
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@imygoddess
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@ogemigelmedi
@oylebirhavadagelki
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@omgbktm
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@desiktirlol
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@freudokur
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@xgallaghersxx
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@certasluas
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@biyolojikfirtina
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@notcutebutpsychoo
@negatiff
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@neyselerkralicesi
@nediyekmahmutmudiyek
@melisica
@mukemmelsessizlik
@mavirane
@mehtapguzeli
@milyonerkedi

Verdiğim en uzun ff lerden birisi 👅👅👅💜