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#(just in case haha)
quietbirdee · 10 months
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little creature...
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ezdotjpg · 6 months
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i am so glad I got to play portal 2 knowing literally nothing abt it, 0 spoilers whatsoever for a 12 year old game bc. maybe I am just not observant enough but I was genuinely shocked by Wheatley’s betrayal AKDJDKD
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penaltyboxboxbox · 8 months
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so.....just a few things up here for now but....if anyone is interested these pieces are now available in my shop! I have them in smaller print as well as large poster sizes, available to ship worldwide!
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fearthhereaper · 10 months
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The way people still purposely misunderstand this scene to fit into their own narrative is insane.
How could have anyone watched this and thought that Alicent was being cruel and shaming the girl? Just saying whatever so they could paint Alicent as the bad guy. Like yes Alicent was being harsh and colder, but she showed more sympathy towards Dyana than any other noble would.
This is a woman who's aware of the position of other women of the world they're living in. A woman who knows that going against a man's word is useless, who knows that a woman's pain and SA will mean nothing and will be used to bring shame on that woman. A woman who knows that carrying your assaulter's baby is the worst thing imaginable and who is helping out the only way she can.
What was she supposed to do but tell her that she believes her (probably the only person who would), give her money (that as a maid she definitely needs), and help her with making sure she doesn't have to carry a baby of the man who raped her and ruin her own life by being branded a whore.
I wouldn't be as annoyed if the scene was left ambiguous by the writers but it wasn't. It was a very clear-cut scene that showed us that Alicent is helping these women in the only way she can.
It's not a matter of whether we agree or disagree on what happened because saying she was shaming the girl is just plain incorrect and ridiculous.
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smittyw · 1 year
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watching & dreaming getting rushed to death robbed us of the wonderful amazing potential of this guy
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seasonal-writes · 6 months
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what if. golden rings AU grian and jimmy or tango and impulse <3 pls I need the boys so badly
wow! another request filled!! this is crazyyy wowoww anyway. have some Golden Rings Tango and Impulse. it's... very self-indulgent, i am so sorry. thanks for the request, theooooo. <3 (for a note: this isn't spoilers! so even if you haven't read golden rings/aren't caught up, you'll be fine! just a fun one-shot, somewhere in time in the golden rings AU!<3)
~ “Well, don’t you look official.”
Swiftly turning around, Impulse removes his hard gaze on the bedroom door, spinning around slowly to the new figure in the room. Backed by warm lantern light, the silhouetted, lithe figure’s shoulders shake with a soft laugh. 
“Didn’t even hear you come in,” Tango says, smirking, “Did I scare you?”
Impulse shakes his head. “You’ll have to try a little harder than that.” 
With a snort, Tango moves over to the vanity in the corner of the room. “You jumped. I saw it.”
Scanning over the prince, he focuses on the attire—clearly prepared for the evening’s events, but.. lacking. He grunts, noting the missing jewelry, lack of crown...
“Aren’t you ready, your majesty?” Impulse asks, voice low, “I’m tasked with escorting you to the ball within the next few minutes.” 
“Your majesty?” Tango asks, clearly taken aback. He turns around on the tiny, tufted stool and his mouth gapes. “We’re usin’ titles now?”
“You didn’t answer my question.” 
The prince dodges the inquiry. “What happened to Tango, huh? Get caught slipping?”
“No, sir. Just getting back into habit. It’s an important night.” 
Impulse moves further into the room. He takes post at a wall like usual, leaning against the perfect spot, that of which allows him to see Tango’s bedroom door in the reflection of the vanity but allows him to keep an eye on the prince too. 
“I guess.”  Tango shrugs, turning back around and facing himself in the mirror. He fiddles with a box, cracking it open and revealing a bright bunch of golden bits and bobs within. Digging his claws in, Tango pulls a couple indistinct pieces of jewelry and sets them down. It’s all very slow, Impulse notices, far too methodical for Tango who is..usually rather decisive regarding these things. 
“Your highness,” he says again, like a warning. 
“I know, I know. Late. ” Tango rolls his eyes, both hands working to fasten an earring, “Late to a bunch of chatter.” 
“It’s important to your father.”
“Yeah, but why do I have to go dance with a bunch of strangers? It’s his party.” 
At that notion, Tango’s eyes suddenly flick up in the mirror, meeting Impulse as he fastens in the other earring. There is a quick smile, and he’s turned around again, to which Impulse wants to groan in irritation. Here we go. 
“Hey, Impy.” 
“Yes?”
“Do you ever dance at parties?” 
With a sigh, Impulse shakes his head. For the moment, he feels his knightly exterior slipping into the casual conversation the two commonly shared. He tries to hold steady. 
“Is this really the time? My liege-”
Tango pats at his thighs eagerly. “Come on! I’m curious.” 
Offering a heavy eye roll, Impulse leans his back against the wall. 
“Not often, no. Now, will you please get ready?” 
“Do any knights know how to dance?” Tango teases, “Aren’t you taught that in your training?” 
He’s standing now. That familiar, memorized shape of his charge’s body slinking towards him. The darkly colored fabric of Tango’s skirt consumes the greater, lower half of him and makes him look a little like a ghost, if not for the bright and lively eyes. If not for the dazzling smile. Had Impulse been a braver man, he would’ve told Tango how lovely he looked—only for the idea to make his mouth go dry. 
“My job isn’t to dance, your highness.” 
“Well, ya can’t go to a ball without knowing how to dance, can you, Sir Impulse? Since we’re using titles now..” 
His title, sitting so playfully on Tango’s tongue, sends Impulse’s heart into a stampede. Impulse tries his best not to gulp, swallowing a mouthful of words. He knows his task, and yet, the prince always did so well at weakening his backbone.
Tango, now very close, stares up at Impulse. Unsure if it’s a trick of the light, or if there is actually something to cause the effect, Impulse can almost see a shimmer across Tango’s face. They often had moments in this dimness, when the lanterns go from simulating a sense of daylight and are turned down to something more representative of the night: lower, quieter, warmer. Something in the spare firelight makes the prince glow, and it makes Impulse feel particularly reverent. 
But his brain gets the better of him, and Impulse just stares right back with a more insistent look. One that says please your father is absolutely going to kill me if we don’t go and come on and Tango, but he feels Tango’s hand brushing at his and his face feels like it’s gotten a hundred degrees hotter. 
“Come on,” Tango says, pulling Impulse from the wall. 
Something inside lets him move. He weakens, unable to say no. 
“No music,” he mumbles awkwardly, one last ditch effort to stop the whole affair. 
“Eh, who needs it?” 
The two find themselves in the middle of the room. Prince Tango’s eyes roam over the knight’s demeanor, leaving what feel like tangible, burning lines that melt through Impulse’s armor. 
"Usually it’s...”
“Sir Impulse, you really don’t want to dance with me, do you?” 
“That’s not what I said,” Impulse says, “it’s just that you’re expected downstairs and..”
Pushing closer, Tango enters Impulse’s space fully now, sending Impulse’s words off into the ether. His defenses shatter. Gently taking Impulse’s hand away from the hilt of his sword, which he’d found himself holding tightly, Tango presses the gloved hand to his waist. Impulse feels jitters crawl up the arm, hand twitching. 
For the first time, Impulse’s composure cracks, breath hitching. He hopes Tango doesn’t notice, the prince now taking his other hand. When he finally looks at Impulse, the knight straightens his back out of habit, and Tango smirks. Impulse feels his breath brush across his face, tickling his skin. There is a heavy feeling settling all over, and it makes him want to either tuck tail and run or just plain melt. He can’t decide which. 
“Perfect,” Tango hums, “You just keep your hand there, alright?” 
“This is.. very against my oaths to your father,” Impulse says, gesturing to their clasped hands, “You realize that, right?” 
“Of course I do.” Tango grins. He takes a step, leading Impulse into the beginnings of a very slow, clunky waltz. “Don’t worry, you won’t be smote. I won’t blab if you won’t.”
“He’s going to ask where we’ve been.”
“And? I’m the prince, I can do what I want.”
“...To an extent.”
“Are you questioning my power?”
“I think you deserve it, your highness,” Impulse says, letting a smile slip. 
Tango makes a face, screwed up in playful frustration. A laugh bubbles up in Impulse’s throat, flowing out in a hefty, rasped chuckle. When Tango smiles, it’s overwhelmingly fond, sending a chill down Impulse’s spine. 
The two slowly move around the empty space, making messy shapes with their path. Impulse finds that he can’t quite get the hand on Tango’s waist to relax. The fingers dangle, his palm hovers, the side of the prince only brushing against the inside of his glove when certain movements allow it. There is something that prevents it, and if not for the fact that Tango laced their fingers together, the other hand would likely be the same way. 
“You know, you can touch me,” Tango suddenly says, noticing the hesitance. 
He removes his hand from Impulse’s shoulder without skipping a step, bringing it down and pressing Impulse’s hand into his waist. His fingers instinctively wrap around, digging into soft muscle and slipping towards his back. 
When the desire to pull Tango in makes itself apparent—when it slips through the broken defenses, he lets it. He listens, using the hand to pull Tango closer. It feels so much like second nature that Impulse swears he has never acted in a way that felt more correct. 
Tango lets out a breath, like he meant to laugh, but it comes out as more of a delicate gasp. Impulse doesn’t know what to say, all the words caught in the back of his throat. The room feels smaller, narrowing to how it feels to have Tango this close, in his grip. The walls blur around him, his focus landing on the prince before him, staring slightly wide-eyed. Instead of shock, it looks more like bewilderment—a pleasant surprise, he hopes, to be held this way.
Impulse feels something well up in his chest, something he can’t quite put a name to. It was warm, and fuzzy, and making itself at home in the very deepest corners of his heart. It’s distracting, it’s overwhelming. 
So much so, that he isn’t quite sure when they stopped moving. 
When Impulse meets his eyes, Tango immediately looks away. He sees the skin of his glowing face grow pinker. They stand still, locked in what now feels like an embrace.
“...You’re not half-bad,” Tango says, his voice barely above a whisper, “And you said you don’t dance.”
“I said I don’t do it often.” 
Regaining his composure—or, attempting to, Impulse clears his throat. When he lets go of Tango, his hands drag. He almost wishes, for a moment, it was his skin: ungloved, unobstructed touch. It’s painfully slow, as if savoring every centimeter, before he steps away. 
“Well,” he says, “Now that you’ve sufficiently distracted me..”
Tango doesn’t respond for a moment, hands lightly wringing in front of him as he looks down at the floor. Impulse’s hand rests back on the hilt of his sword, and he makes for the door, posting up near it. 
He tries his best to ignore how everything inside him burns, offering a glance to Tango once more. 
Impulse can’t help how, when he speaks, his voice feels so full. His throat feels tight, heart pounding. 
“Are you ready, my prince?” 
(And what if I said “my prince”  but actually meant-)
“..Um. Yeah, yes, of course,” Tango says, “We should go. Late enough as is.” 
And when Tango lightly touches Impulse’s arm as he passes him on the way out, muttering something that sounds like a “thank you” under his breath, the grip on his hilt tightens. 
He tries not to fall to pieces. 
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Made this for the Cringetober Candygore prompt :) I'm a bit late because stuff got in the way! But here she is.
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mazeppafanart · 1 year
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“Eggman pls stop...or...things that artists do on us will be canon” :’)
Why is Sonic so interested ‘bout Eggy’s channel btw?? (¬‿¬) 
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inkykeiji · 1 year
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SPOILERS FOR THE LEAKS in my ask
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Clari did you see the new reveal about Dabi’s quirk. I’m fucking dying. Screaming, crying, throwing up.
He was always perfect :,(
But we already knew that
bnha manga spoilers
i did, kind of! i honestly try not to look too far into them & make assumptions until i can read the whole chapter for myself (because sometimes i find the leaks summaries are misleading or poorly explained) so i’m not 100% sure how i feel about this! i have a lot of questions. for example, based on the summary we got, it says that new abilities are awoken only close to death. so how far, theoretically, would enji had had to push touya to get this to manifest/show up/come out of him? would he had to push him to the brink of death to get it? why didn’t it show up when touya was 13 and nearly burned to death? or did it show up then at age 13, somehow, and dabi’s just been conveniently hiding it until now? additionally, does this actually have any impact on neutralizing his flames and the fact that his body was not built for them? does it help in that aspect? can it help in that aspect? many many maaaany questions.
i said this last night in my little rant/vent post but if dabi ends up living i will be thoroughly and immensely disappointed. as much as i love dabi with every fiber of my being and my whole entire heart, and as much as i wish there was a way for him to continue living, him having a well written and impactful ending to his story matters more to me and it’s what he deserves as a character. he deserves a GOOD ending. dabi surviving this makes absolutely zero sense and would be such a horrid ending for his story as a whole, especially considering the fact that, logically, if he were to live the only place he’d end up is jail for life; he can’t claim insanity, not when they have a video of him fully and lucidly explaining and admitting to his crimes. he knew exactly what he was doing all along, obv. letting him off with a slap on the wrist because he has ~trauma~ (aw, boohoo, so do i and i don’t murder innocents) and is the number one hero’s son is so fucking stupid, not to mention extremely unfair and goes against pretty much all of dabi’s beliefs (false heroes, heroes being treated differently etc).
anyway sorry i went off on a tangent there HAHA i could write u an entire essay on why i think dabi’s end should be his (and enji’s!) death so i tried to keep it brief while still explaining myself properly but!! honestly, i’m extremely critical when it comes to dabi’s character arc/story, and him not getting the well written, heart wrenching ending he deserves has been a heavy fear of mine preeeetty much since i picked up this series.
in sum: not sure how i feel about the sudden ice quirk thing, trying not to overreact or make any serious judgements until this whole bit of the story has played out. trying v hard to have faith and trust in hori and his skills as a storyteller because i know he has the capacity to make this phenomenal and i hope to whatever god is out there that it doesn’t get fucked up by fan service.
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quietbirdee · 2 years
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wanted to draw something in preparation for the finale 🌒
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cillyscribbles · 10 months
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i am indeed still taking codywan tatooine husbands/high noon over camelot pendragon requests, i've only had no access to my tablet for a few days! i will return soon however 😊
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fearthhereaper · 1 year
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I have to say I no longer buy this whole Alicent/Rhaenyra soulmate-y thing hotd has going on. I loved it when they were younger and I honestly do believe they loved each other dearly and that while I still think there's love there I don't agree with how it's portrayed. Am I really supposed to believe that Alicent would still love her so much she would demean herself for Rhaenyra's love and affection.... ffs. I completely agree that Alicent wouldn't want Rhaenyra dead and that she would try her best to make sure no one harms her but am I really supposed to believe it's because Alicent just adores the ground Rhaenyra walks on??? Because I don't. I don't understand on insisting that she is Alicent's one true love when it does nothing but sully Alicent's character and make her weak to the point that the writers believe Alicent would beg on her knees for Rhaenyra to love her.
Lovers, friends, it doesn't matter what they are, it makes no sense that Alicent is still as devoted to her as much as they're trying to make it look like she is.
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gakuheta · 2 years
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omg did you guys see the trailer for the new pokemon games, they're set in fantasy spain and they just introduced a tiny baby olive pokemon ;_; petition to give antonio hetalia one of these lil creatures ;___;
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it's called SMOLIV i'm on the floor
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choochooboss · 2 months
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"Top tier trainer & his ace!"
I was initially shocked to see how big Archeops is when I saw him flapping next to Emmet in Pokémas the first time!! Had to draw him smaller to make this idea work (normal archeops height is 4'07"/140 cm).
Archeops also weighs 32kg/70.5lbs, about the same as an average 7~8 year old kid. Emmet sure could carry him around for a while, if he doesn't wobble around too much! (Which I'd imagine to happen often, Archeops turning his head around like a periscope surveying his surroundings before leaping off to chase something and leaving Emmet catching his balance.)
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funplecs · 4 months
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I love the couch drawings from daydream hour 4 but the mithrun one makes me sad cause he's alone. So I added the canaries
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Original old man alone on couch
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devilart2199-aibi · 18 days
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Time to change up this tune, baby! ‼️🎶💥
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