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#I just knowwww
astrolavas · 9 months
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my art style is too simple for this but just know that when i draw post-ttt hunter, in my mind he has central pink-brown heterochromia. like this, kinda:
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neometalsilver · 5 months
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say what you will about ian flynn but him saying that shadow isnt facing "gay allegations" hes facing "gay observations" was fucking real as shit. god bless you mr flynn
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rapidhighway · 10 months
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um, yeah, hi, this post has changed me
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kristiliqua · 8 months
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etoiles hyping phil up at every chance he gets will never Not be funny to me
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twinsarekeepers · 4 months
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This fandom does such a disservice to percabeth and Percy as a character when y’all make him out to be some clueless simpleton that doesn’t know she has feelings for him.
HE KNOWS!
He just doesn’t want to do anything about it, especially after Titan’s Curse, because if he does, he’ll start imagining a future for himself.
Percy forced himself to be the child of the prophecy so that Nico wouldn’t be, because he was trying to save Nico. Which means he had to get real comfortable with the idea of dying at the ripe old age of sixteen. And acting on his feelings for his best friend was not the way to do that.
That boy was hardcore yearning for her because he wanted to be with her so badly but he also couldn’t.
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gigantomachylesbian · 7 months
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I could never read those booktok-popular "dark romances" for. well. many reasons. BUT the biggest of all is that the instant a man wrongs a woman in a book I want his ass dead. I have zero tolerance for that shit. I don't care if it's a misunderstanding I don't CARE if he's got a secret sadboy past. If he insults her to her face I want her to come after him with a chainsaw no matter what forever
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crystallakec · 6 months
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back at it babeyyyy<3
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iguanodont · 1 year
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Something I’ve been stewing on for a handful of months now has been wanting to make birgs’ reproductive cycles weirder. My friend @primalmuckygoop suggested the fantastic idea of giving them “external wombs” or “eggs with legs”, and the result was…. These.
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Essentially an overgrown tick that contains within itself the actual embryonic birg. Like a tick, it latches on to the host (typically the mother or a relative, but they can be attached to ‘midwife’ animals as well) and feeds on blood until the infant birg is ready to emerge.
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This is by no means the only reproductive strategy seen in birgworld fauna; for some animals the process is mostly or entirely internalized, for others the “larva” exists as an independent creature as distinct from its parent as feathervanes from their walking seeds.
The fun begins when you consider the cultural implications of such a life cycle, from folklore about witches and vampires to ingrained concepts of “cuteness”, but I’ll save that for future posts…..
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bonetrousledbones · 5 months
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so when are we gonna start appreciating undertale AUs for fueling a metric fuck ton of the creativity and longevity of the fandom because if i see one more person calling them the cringiest part of the last 8 years i might lose it
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agerasiaa · 3 months
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A crack fic about Lucifer, Vox and Husk making an Alastor Hate Club. And it’s just them once a week bonding over how much they hate Alastor and Husk realizes more and more how he doesn’t actually hate Alastor and is bitter about it, Lucifer randomly trauma dumps about his tragic life, and by each meeting Lucifer and Husk notice how Vox’s sheer hate borderlines on obsession and they share awkward glances every time he starts ranting and shows them his Alastor shrine or something. And when he makes some comments like “Alastor does this and that every day” (some very specific detail about him only a stalker/someone with a long history with Al would know) and the other two are like “how do you know” and he’s like “I just do.”
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amaranthdahlia · 3 months
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[chapter 408] extended cut - sewer chase scene
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storge · 4 months
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Ossan's Love Returns (2024)
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angelsdean · 2 days
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society if. spnwin season 2 [sigh]
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mangofanarts · 3 months
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It hurts me to think about Pepito telling Bad that Pepito missed him and Bad responding awkwardly to it with a "thank you?" because its a response that makes sense, from Bad's side. Bad can't say that he misses Pepito back because he doesn't know Pepito - he has no memories of that little egg. How else is Bad suppose to respond to being told that he's been missed from someone, more specifically a kid he doesn't know?
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hwaitham · 1 month
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⸝⸝ ˙˳ ⑅ first piece of marginalia ( of many , hopefully :3 ) about eremite!al haitham && akademiya student!reader ♥︎ f!reader + not proofread + subtly implied trauma on both reader n haitham's end
you first meet the eremite who's to serve as your bodyguard throughout your research expedition on the day of your departure, at your designated meeting spot under the pavilion in pardis dhyai. its stone pillars cascade with vines of sumeru roses that shine a sweet lavender hue under the morning sun— one of which you've plucked and tucked into your hair earlier, leaning over the railing to gaze at your reflection in the pond and smile at the beauty of it.
(and a petal which has unknowingly slipped off and fallen to rest ever so delicately within the dip of your clavicle.)
“al haitham, yes? um, hello!” you greet the eremite as he walks into the pavilion with a quiet waver to your voice, bow respectfully, try to still the timid pitter-patters of your heart that only seem to worsen the longer you're in his presence.
because this man standing before you is large— tall, broad, as stunning as the pale blue moon. his upper body is strapped with tough sinew and yet his waist remains lean, torso mostly bare save for the pashmina shawl draped about his neck and the worn leather holster slung across his chest.
and he's silent. offering you only a small bow in return before giving you a quick once over, gait unhurried as he takes one, two long strides to stand by your side. it's an arduous task to bring yourself to look up at his face, but you do— lips parting in awe when you realise he's unlike any other desert eremite you've met before.
the trimmed red silk tied around his head shelters only one of his eyes.
how interesting, you think to yourself, for what you know of desert eremites is that they are convinced all things betray, even their own sight.
you bite your tongue to stop the questions that bubble and ebb at the forefront of your throat from tumbling past your lips, the innate scholarly need to learn and dissect and digest and know. a surprised little squeak escapes you instead when he turns his head and catches you staring, meeting your curious eyes with technicoloured cyan.
“is something the matter?”
“no, not at all! i'm sorry, i didn't mean to stare,” you flush hot under the intensity of his gaze, play with the flouncy sleeve of your blouse while you giggle nervously. you're unsure whether it's his size, or his beauty, or his quiet dominance that makes you feel much more shy than you'd like to feel, far too giddy— as if you're a little girl back in grade school.
“alright. shall we get going then? we're losing daylight with each second that passes.” al haitham holds a hand out in front of you, waiting expectantly.
you tilt your head in confusion and pout. what's he asking for? a tip? your hand?
“your bags?” he heaves a sigh, rests his other hand on his hip. you feel a hint of irritation in his words, and your heart wilts a little, “did you want me to carry them?”
“oh!” you exclaim in realisation before hoisting your travel bags further up your shoulders, force a reassuring smile on your lips. “it's okay, i couldn't possibly ask that of you. i can handle it myself, really!”
that couldn't be further from the truth, and al haitham sees right through it, with your shoulders hunched forward from the leaden weight of your bags slung atop them, the wince in your step as you walk towards the pathway, how you nearly topple over when you lose the slightest bit of balance.
“hey,” he pinches his brow, a certain roughness in his voice when he calls out to you that withers into something more gentle, tender after you turn to look at him. sweet and innocent and dewy-eyed. like a flower too frail, one whose stem may snap clean off if looked at the wrong way. “let me take them.”
al haitham doesn't allow you to protest, swiftly lifting your bags from your shoulders and holding onto them with ease, their weight nothing compared to what he's had to endure throughout the entirety of his life.
“it's my job to take care of you these next few weeks, and i intend to do it well.” he walks ahead of you, the longer mint strands of his hair swaying with the wind, the air around him lifting into something lighter— even if it's only by the most minute amount. “besides, you'll tip me generously if i do, won't you?"
his voice lilts mischievously, and you can only bring yourself to watch on in awe. nerves melting into excitement, cheeks warming not from timidness, but anticipation of what lies ahead in the next month— for your research, yes, but also for something closer to your heart.
a companion, a friend.
you smile a smile that reaches far past your eyes, bounding up to him with those clumsy fawn legs as you try to match his pace. two of your steps for one of his own. “of course i will, thank you so, so much! and i'll do my best to keep from making trouble for you— it'll make your job easier too, i hope!”
al haitham hesitates for a brief moment when you thank him so earnestly, so wholeheartedly, so unlike any of the other scholars he'd been commissioned to act as a guard for. with your smile so cloyingly sweet and your kindness so childishly naive, he can't help but feel a bit grim.
how much violence did it take for you to become this gentle?
the faintest of smiles— honeysuckle soft— curls up on his lips and he gives your head a single pat, sweeps the spare rose petal off of your clavicle, quietly wonders what he's gotten himself into by accepting this commission.
“silly girl. come, let's get going.”
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itaipava · 7 months
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lewis hamilton and his girl dad energy
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