#packs barbie

[thegirlstuff]

like/reblog if you save!!!!!! ♥︎

[twi-packss]

❥ barbie twitter pack

like/reblog if u save <3

credits to @itslarrylandia x

requests here x

© @acervoicons, @theidolstuff, @cherriedt and @d4myeon

[liviedaya]

Pack Sabrina Carpenter e Barbie

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[yuri-alexseygaybitch]

Nothing I can say can make this funnier than what it is

[teathattast]

[b-ellyache]

♡̲ ⠀ ⠀ like ⠀ or ⠀ reblog ⠀ if ⠀ you ⠀ use ⠀ or ⠀ save

[hearty-an0n]

when the non-human character wants so desperately to be human

[here-comes-the-moose]

*right after Omega joined the family, thus replacing Crosshair as the baby*

Crosshair: *sulking*

Echo: Listen, just because there’s a new baby doesn’t mean we love you any less…

[kiwicidios]

⠀⠀ ⠀ㅤུㅤㅤִㅤ ㅤ 🌊 ͡ ♬ .

[willowsallen]

🪶    /    in  the  source  link  below,  you’ll  gain  access  to  #276  gifs  of  camila mendes  in  música  (2024).  she  was  born  in  the  year  1994  and  is  of  pardo brazilian (indigenous, white)  descent,  so  please  cast  appropriately  when  using  my  resources.  all  of  these  gifs  were  made  from  scratch,  so  you  may  edit  these  as  much  as  you’d  like,  but  please  don’t  redistribute  or  claim  as  your  own.  please  refer  to  my  rules  for  further  information.

note:  this  pack  is  completely  free  and  is  also  accessible  through  a  zip  file.

this is a secret santa gift for @malboraslihan! happy holidays!

[callsign-mimic]

A Part of the Pack

Chapter Four

Content Warnings: Violence, I don't know shit about the military and how ops actually go, don't look at that part too hard, Reality Adjacent Mimic rather than OC!Mimic

It’s quiet on the transport, besides the hum of the helicopter motor and murmured conversation between Price and Nikolai.

Saint really shouldn’t have been surprised that the Russian pilot also adored Mimic. Watching as he pulled her into a tight bear hug that made her spine pop audibly. That sound alone would have been concerning…

If it hadn’t immediately been followed by Mimic’s chirps and trills of delight.

The way Nikolai buries his face in Mimic’s hair, the audacious familiarity of it, would have made any other Alpha feel a jealous rage. But Saint wasn’t just any Alpha, and they couldn’t help feeling pleased at seeing how well-loved Mimic was by others. Even if she was only one of their Omegas for the mission.

It also helped that Nikolai was so implicitly trusted by Laswell and the rest of the 141. Saint hadn’t missed how Price and Nikolai had pressed their foreheads together, Mimic squished and purring between them. As if the whole situation was the most natural thing in the world.

And maybe for them, it was. A faint reminder of just how new Saint was in the lives of these Omegas.

“Alphaaaaa.” Soap whines, breaking Saint from their thoughts and drawing their grey eyes to him. “Why’re ye sittin so far away? S’not fair. Dinnae tell me it’s fer Mim’s sake…”

“Is being against propriety and polite protocol a Scottish thing?” Mimic asks, not looking up as Gaz helps her wrap her hands and wrists. “Or is it that you just have some sort of personal vendetta against it?”

Soap huffs, leaning over and nipping at her to further express his displeasure. She cuffs him upside the head, a half-smile on her face before she leans into him, churring softly as he pouts. Making Gaz grin all the while as he finishes wrapping Mimic’s hands.

The more Saint watched how their Omegas acted around Mimic, the harder it was becoming for them to accept that she would be returning to her life of isolation after the mission. By the way Gaz and Soap’s touches lingered, it seemed as though they felt the same.

The team had already had to go three years without any contact with her. Her self-imposed punishment to appease the brass and not be seen as a potential danger.

The idea of letting her go back to that quite life, without the love and comfort of a pack to care for her, didn’t sit well with the silent Alpha.

Nikolai touched the helicopter down far enough from the target compound to go unnoticed. The team disembarks, huddling together as Price speaks in a low voice.

“Alright, you know the plan.” He says, glacial eyes cutting to each member in turn. “141 creates a distraction from the South and East sides of the building. This should give Mimic the ability to slip in from the West unnoticed. We keep the hostiles busy until we get confirmation that she’s out with the package secured.” His sharp gaze stops on Mimic.

“You come back to us in one piece, aye?” His eyes bore into hers, giving weight to his gaze and the unofficial order.

“No promises.” Mimic says with a lopsided grin, earning herself a low growl of annoyance from Price and Ghost. “But I’ll do my best.” She adds, chuffing as Price taps his forehead against hers for a brief moment before the team separates.

The distraction starts with a bang.

Literally.

Soap moves with lethal grace, setting and detonating charges along the eastern perimeter as Ghost snipes hostiles from an overwatch point.

Gaz and Saint cause similar havoc at the southern perimeter with Price sniping and murmuring enemy locations in the ears.

Mimic slips into the compound on silent feet. Her very presence a mere whisper in the shadows as she makes her way to the lab mentioned in the intel report. She glances through the window on the door, noticing the researchers inside desperately trying to save their work from the impending chaos. Mimic secures her gas mask over her face, then throws a canister of tear gas into the lab to force the remaining people to evacuate without their precious data.

She makes quick work of downloading every scrap of information off of the labs computers, wiping the information entirely as she goes.

How serendipitous it was that they were too paranoid to have backed the data up to a server outside of the compound.

Once she has the thumb drive of data tucked away in her vest, she moves to collect the physical samples. An experimental airborne drug that was supposed to make even the most docile Omega uncontrollably violent. Mimic packs the specimens carefully, securing them in her back before shouldering it and leaving behind a MacTavish Special to detonate once she’s out of the blast radius.

“Package secured. On my way out.”

Her soft voice buzzes through the comms, and Saint makes an immediate beeline for her location. Intent to guard and escort her to exfil as planned.

The sight of her running full tilt toward them fills the Alpha with a sense of relief that nearly makes them lightheaded.

Until she’s tackled by an enemy soldier that they hadn’t noticed in their relief, the bright flash of a knife appearing for only a moment before it’s buried to the hilt between her ribs.

Being on the extreme end of the Alpha scale meant Saint had gone through extensive therapy and socialization training. They weren’t the type to give in to their baser instincts without thinking. Blind rage was not something that Saint had ever experienced, usually able to keep a level head in any situation.

Until bearing witness to one of their Omega’s with the hilt of a knife poking out from between the fastenings on her tactical vest.

A lucky shot for the enemy soldier.

Or so he had thought. Staring down at Mimic, practically drooling as he straddled her hips. Marveling at how the pretty little Omega hadn’t made a single sound. No yelp of pain. No shouting for help. No demanding to be let go, or for the soldier to get off of her. She just stared back up at the man, pale blue eyes wide behind the lenses of her gas mask.

She was completely silent.

Unfortunately for him, so was Saint. The massive Alpha barreled into the soldier, teeth sinking into the tender flesh of the man’s throat. The warm, metallic taste of blood floods their mouth. Making them groan and nearly lose themself in the desire to tear the man apart entirely. Leaving nothing left of the unfortunate creature who had dared hurt one of Saint’s precious Omegas.

But a soft voice pulls them out of their cloud of rage. Clearing the red haze from their mind.

“Alpha.”

Saint looks up, eyes wide, mouth and chin coated in blood. They were an absolute vision of a ruthless, violent protector. Their dark, wavy hair a mess. Grey eyes wild. Chest heaving from the exertion in their attack.

And there was Mimic. Sweet, feisty, resilient little Mimic. Holding out the bite guard that Saint had discarded in their haste to defend her.

When had she moved?

How was she moving??

There’s a fucking knife sticking out of her ribcage!!

But she’s there, pressing the bite guard into their hand and wiping the blood from their face. She’d had enough time to hastily pack the area around the knife with gauze and secure it with tape.

Saint is on their feet in an instant. Bite guard back in place and Mimic in their arms as they rush to the rendezvous point. She was so calm. Bright-eyed and alert to the point where it was almost unnerving.

The rest of the team could smell Saint before they saw the Alpha, and it put them all on edge. Saint was religious about wearing their neutralizers. So the men of Task Force 141 could only assume the worst when their Alpha had burned through their neutralizers on a mission like this.

They let out a collective sigh of relief when they see their beloved Alpha with the small Omega cradled against their chest. Rushing forward to meet them.

“Saint! Mimic! What the fuck happened? Is that a knife?!?” Price asks, only really able to get a good look at Mimic once the helicopter is in the air. Saint doesn’t let her out of their grasp, keeping her tightly cradled against them as Price examines her.

The captain of the 141 can barely make out the residual smell of teargas on Mimic’s uniform. Almost entirely covered by the intense scent of his enraged Alpha. She would have to be doused in neutralizer before they could hand her off to the medics back at base.

“Relax, Cap. You told me to come back in one piece. Which I did! You never said I couldn’t also come back with an extra piece or two.” Mimic’s voice is muffled behind her gas mask, but Price can see the way her eyes are crinkled at the corners. Hell, he can hear the grin in her voice.

Her comment earns her another growl of annoyance from Price, as well as once from Saint. The sound of it deep enough for the subharmonics to rattle her already sore ribs.

She moves to take off her gas mask, confused when Price stops her. He doesn’t give her an explanation, but she doesn’t try to fight against his silent order to keep it on.

After all, getting stabbed was a surprisingly exhausting event.

And the last thing they needed was for her to be overwhelmed by Saint’s pheromones before the adrenaline wore off and the pain set it.

Still, Price flicks the filter on the gas mask with some disdain when he realizes she’s still grinning behind it.

[twi-packss]

❥ barbie twitter pack

like/reblog if u save <3

credits to @itslarrylandia x

requests here x

© @acervoicons, @vanilaps, @theidolstuff and @dedheaders

[alfaire]

ㅤㅤㅤ𝄞ㅤ◌ㅤ🎀ㅤ۫ ㅤ꒰ㅤ𝖠𝖼𝗍 𝖨𝖨: 𝖬𝗈𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗍𝗈ㅤ꒱

[thegirlstuff]

like if you save!!!! ♥︎

[d4myeon]

barbie - ken icons

[speakyonce]

BEYONCÉ ICONS at Verizon commercial ✨