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#i am not having a good time tonight
5qu1dink · 1 year
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i keep doing impressions of jfk and fuckin. uh. shit idk his name
jimbo the great???? he never had intercourse with a woman
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maddymoreau · 1 year
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Thinking about how Diavolo’s feelings transcend time and how in the Nightbringer UR+ card Demon Lord’s Castle Tour this conversation happens.
When asked, “Do you wish to see your father?”
Diavolo responds:
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“I suppose I do . . .” isn’t the typical reaction to how a child would feel about wanting to see their parent. Especially when said parent has essentially been in a coma for a year.
Along with how Diavolo describe his father.
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It makes more sense why when you learn in Lesson 56 how Diavolo was treated by him growing up.
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Diavolo can tell when others are lying but is unable to understand his father’s intentions.
Diavolo mentions that he lived a very sheltered life growing up. That from a young age his father never allowed him a chance to talk to anyone outside the castle.
His childhood friend was Mephistopheles. A demon literally RAISED to be his friend. Putting a barrier between the two because Mephistopheles would put Diavolo on a pedestal.
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The isolating childhood he experienced riddled with his strict father constantly scolding him.
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Despite everything MC is so important to him he wants to see his father again so we can meet.
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groenendaze · 3 months
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these make me feel emotions i dont quite understand
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buglaur · 5 months
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i adore all my new gameplay sims. i just let the game play and see what they do
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eggplantgifs · 5 months
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Yuma Kagiyama: Werther » 2023 Grand Prix de France
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notbecauseofvictories · 7 months
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honestly the most genius call I've made this week was stocking my hotel room with easy food. It's like I knew that after 9 hours of office-y stuff, I would drag my bloated carcass back to my hotel room and then blearily stuff cheeze its in my face until I went to bed.
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Let me start out by saying that I am trans and do suffer from gender dysphoria. So when I say this I am in no way trying to make fun of trans people, okay? I don't want to hurt anyone. This is just how I perceive my experiences.
I have species dysphoria.
I am serious.
I made an earlier post about the intersection of my trans identity and my canine identity, and so many folks felt the same way- thank you for sharing your experiences btw I was happy to hear that I was not alone.
I get frustrated knowing that I will never fully look how I envision myself to be. Even if I do go on T at some point and become happier in my human body, there will always be the nagging feeling of something missing.
Canines are so intrinsically linked to my identity and how I see myself that I just- I can't see myself any other way. I love dogs in particular; they were my first special interest and I was so obsessed with my dog as a kid that I adopted some of her behaviors. Every book I read for years of my childhood was about dogs (or animals in general). I drew mostly dogs and cats growing up and even now I only draw animals. My first volunteer experience was with dogs (now I work with cats lol) and I just see myself as one, you know?
Maybe it's because I'm autistic or maybe it's the trauma and rejection I faced in the past but I just don't feel human... gender. I don't know.
It's a stupid way to feel but I can't change it. I wish I experienced my gender in a more "normal" way but that's why I haven't found a label that truly fits either. It's all so human and I'm just not.
Anyone else get where I'm coming from?
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secret delights in life: spoonfuls of plain sour cream. guzzling gravy straight from the boat. Envisioning Vengeance. thinking about pointless character facts. holding kitten face like hamburger
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sneezydarliing · 1 month
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Close Quarters (Gen/Shin, CynoNari)
Hi um. Me after posting late to my own event. nyways this is for @hachiibun !!!!! thank you So much for your patience i hope you like this. I tried to go insp from some art you've posted so i hope its to ur liking!!!!
Cyno was familiar with Tighnari’s nose. Sensitive and easily set off, it wasn’t uncommon to witness one of his fits if you spent a day with him. His ears would twitch and flick, tail swishing with agitation, nose scrunched up against a wrist until he finally succumbed. His awareness is what led to the sinking feeling in his stomach as he watched the other. 
The two were cramped together in a small inlet, waiting for the moment to strike against a large group of enemies. They crouched side-by-side, shoulders pressed together. Cyno quietly observed, watching the furrow in Tighnari's brows, the flick of his tail, watching him scrub a gloved hand against his nose. The two locked eyes, Tighnari’s eyes red-rimmed and watery with unshed allergic tears. He worried his bottom lip against his teeth, sending a message they both knew. Tighnari needed to sneeze, and there was very little he could do to stop it.  
The specks of pollen coating every surface was the clear culprit. While neither of them were allergic, it was nearly impossible to not feel itchy with the sheer amount of it. Even Cyno, prideful of his own control, had to resist the urge to rub his irritated eyes. Tighnari, however, was fighting a losing battle. He aggressively pawed at his nose, leaving it red and angry looking. They both knew his sneezes could never go unnoticed- Tighnari’s fits were pitchy and desperate, demanding attention whether he wanted it or not. 
Cyno adjusts, freeing a hand, prepared to help if needed. Sure enough, Tighnari’s slow, controlled breath snagged, entering a desperate cresendo as he fought against the itch, battle quickly lost. Cyno watches as he crushes the release against his glove, knowing the control will not last. Tighnari’s nose is never satisfied with just one, and a wet sniffle and the crinkle in his nose confirms his theory. He gives cyno a watery look, warning him of what he already knows.
He slowly manevours around so that he's facing tighnari, ignoring his quiet hiss of “what are you doing?!” then, he brings up his hands, gently presses tighnari against his body, and locks eyes with him. Tighnari  nods, breath already stuttering. Cyno can almost feel the tickle, watching his nose wrinkle as he brings up another glove to scrub at it. His breath takes on an almost desperate whine, and he buries himself into Cyno’s shoulder
As it came to a peak, Cynos hands wrapped around hjs head, pressing him further into him. The fabric against his nose set him over the edge, as he tries desperately to silence the much-needed release. 
“h’NGT! h-N’’gXT-h’NdT’iew-! hhI- hN’GT-hH’NDGT-ieww!” Tighnari panted against the rapid releases, and Cyno felt a dampness in his shoulder. “Done?” he whispered, knowing Tighnari’s sensitive ears would pick it up. Tighnari lets out another whine-like breath, hitching and stuttering. “I don’Hht-! Don’t know how many more I.. nGHT-! snF! Can hold back..” he mutters, congestion clear in his voice. 
Cyno presses his hands against the back of Tighnari’s head and presses him further against him. “Let them out. It’ll be okay.” 
Tighnari opens his mouth to object, but with his loss of focus, the need for release overcomes him. He buries himself in the crook of Cyno’s neck, each sneeze more desperate and itchy sounding than the last. 
“hIH-iSHhiew-iShh-i’tSCh’iew-! hAh.. hiDT’sCHh’u! a’TSCHh-sCHh’ieww-! n’GTCh-! iSCHh’u!” Tighnari gasps for breath against Cyno as he watches their targets warily pack up their camp and leave, made nervous by the sudden activity. He releases a deep breath, but there’s no use in being angry. It was an unavoidable outcome. He releases his grip on his companion, trying to plan a next move as he listens to Tighnari’s wet sniffles as he attempts to clean himself up. 
“I’m sorry, Cyno.” He says after a few moments, voice thick and raspy from strain. Cyno shakes his head in response. “It was bound to happen. I’m sure they’ll return.” He stands, dusting the dirt from his clothes, and offers a hand to Tighnari, who takes it after another itchy sneeze aimed into his shoulder. “You need to go home and wash the pollen off.” 
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benetnvsch · 10 months
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I want to see them having more casual interactions please-
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roseverdict · 2 months
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parents are gone on a cruise. time to tear through my room looking for the tatting shuttles i know i bought years ago and am 95% sure are not lost to The Old House
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taonpest · 10 months
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Listen. I had plans for them. I worked my ass off to deliver literally the best drawing I ever made in my life but I fucked up so you’re only getting a silly doodle now
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yourqueenb · 4 months
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You are so right in your distaste for Blades book 2. No matter how great things get near the end, a majority of the book was horrible. They led us along like mouse to cheese. It’s inexcusable to play with their audience this way.
I only wish more people were less willing to excuse PB’s mediocrity. The signs were on the wall for me when DLS was flat out better than Blades 2, and it’s narratively quite simple. The story told was well paced, thought out, and above all kept us waiting for more each week. I cannot say the same for B2. That is sad.
I mean I do understand why people still enjoyed it and were willing to overlook the negative aspects or didn’t have much of a problem with them to begin with. Blades 1 was a fan favorite, we all missed these characters a lot, and many people (myself included at one point) didn’t believe we would actually get book 2 because of all the bait and switches PB had done in the past. But the first two things are why I personally couldn’t overlook the glaring issues.
I can’t remember who the OP was now, but I remember seeing a post from when book 2 only had a few chapters out where someone said something about it seeming like the writers learned all the wrong things about what made the book so good, and I couldn’t agree with that person more! Yeah, book 1 was good because it was different from anything we had ever gotten before. But I think the main reason it was so good was because of the characters as individuals and the relationships we got to form with those individuals to ultimately become a family. Yet they didn’t really acknowledge those individuals or relationships in ways that did them justice for the majority of book 2. And on top of that, MC’s own characterization was inconsistent at times because the writers picked and chose when they wanted us to be a competent leader and when they wanted us to be virtually clueless for plot convenience.
Book 1 was also relatively straightforward whereas it seemed like the writers wanted to turn the sequel into their own personal commentary on religion, which is an incredibly complex topic in itself. They had some social commentary in book 1, but it was done a lot better in my opinion because it didn’t take so much of a front seat. They managed to make it clear that that commentary was important and relevant to the writers, the characters, and the readers living in the real world while never robbing book 1 of that fun adventure game used for escapism feel. Meanwhile, book 2 almost felt like ‘Rising Tides but make it religion’ at times. And that’s on top of all of the other issues I’ve already mentioned in my previous posts.
I will say that I can see how there’s usually a lot of pressure to blow things out of the water for a sequel to something so beloved, and that most likely contributed to how things played out. So maybe I’m being a bit too harsh in my judgement of everything. But I still find it very disappointing to wait so long for something just for it to be so messy and miss the mark by a mile
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happi-tree · 2 years
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cursed, cast, cat
Hi, lovebirds!!! It's been a minute since I've posted frogshow fic on here, but this spooky au concept and @themissakat's wonderful art of it simply will not let me rest (they helped me brainstorm for it and the stuff they've made is absolutely GORGEOUS - check it out here and here if you haven't already). I'm planning on adding more to this au (everything on here will be tagged under #cc au), so you'll see more of it soon, and this short bit is just the beginning! With all that said and done, the fic is below the cut! Hope you guys enjoy this new variant of our favorite trio <3
<I found you something,> a teasing voice singsongs through their link, honey-sweet and syrup-thick. 
Marcy hums and finishes tying her bundle of herbs together with red twine, stepping up on her chair and then the counter to hang it from the rafters with its companions.
<Please tell me it’s more weeping trillium,> she sighs back. <We’re almost out, and mail order is so expensive - >
<Even better,> the voice purrs, and Marcy can practically feel the smirk in its tone, the ghost of it threatening to pull at her own lips. She rolls her eyes instead as their door creaks open, the bell at the top chiming a cheery welcome. 
“Look what the cat dragged in,” Marcy says aloud, eyes still focused on getting the twine to fasten tightly around the thick, oaken beam.
<I mean, I’d sure appreciate it if you looked,> the voice resounds in her head, snarky but warm.
“Okay, hang on, let me just - what did I tell you about bringing your kills into the house!?”
Sitting pretty just past the threshold is a rather large cat, brown-coated with darker markings around its face and paws like a Burmese would, but with luxurious, fluffy fur more comparable to a Himalayan. Said coat of fur is matted in places, speckled with burrs and forest detritus that indicate hours of scouring through the underbrush, and pretty gold-brown eyes stare up into hers.
In the cat’s jaws is a lump of brownish something that squirms in her unbothered grip. 
<Firstly, rude,> the cat replies, promptly depositing the poor thing on the floor and casually trapping it beneath fluffy paws as it scrambles to get away. <That was one time, and I was half-high on the neighbor kids’ catnip! So not my fault. Secondly, she’s clearly alive.>
“I can see that,” Marcy says, catching flashes of amphibian-looking skin as the creature vainly struggles to free itself.
<And thirdly, I should get pets, because the way this one screamed at me the entire way here practically made me want to kill her.> The cat glares at its paws before letting out a shocked <You talk to your mother with that mouth? … Jeez, forget I asked.>
“Ooookay. Why on earth would you bring… a toad… to me?” 
Marcy gets a light chuff in response. 
<I’m gonna let you go now, but you gotta stay still or so help me, I will put you in my mouth again and both of us will hate it,> the cat says to whatever’s in its grasp before pulling back to sit on its haunches. 
And sitting in the middle of their kitchen floor is the grumpiest-looking toad Marcy has ever seen. It beeps at - well, she isn’t sure who. Perhaps about the situation in general.
“Aw, that was cute,” Marcy coos. The toad beeps again, somehow angrier than before. 
Maybe it’s… injured somehow?
<Look closer. Can’t you see it?>
The toad puffs itself up rather defensively under their twin scrutiny.
Marcy looks. 
Oh. 
She lets out a long, low whistle. “That is one heck of a curse you’ve got laid on you, ma’am.”
<I found her just from the smell,> the cat remarks. <So strong, I tracked her for acres before I got to ‘er. Pain in the nose, really.> 
The toad makes a high, affronted little noise at that. 
<The curse is what smells, lady, not you!> A pause. <Well, we’re gonna try to help you out, okay?> The mind-voice is soft and reassuring, a blanket to Marcy’s frantic inner monologue even when it isn’t speaking to her directly, and there’s a rush of fondness that Marcy knows the other can feel through their bond.
Amber eyes meet hers again. <This here’s Sasha, and she’s a fellow businesswoman!>
“A businesswoman, huh?” Marcy muses. “Well, lucky for you, I’m never one to turn away custom-ah!”
Marcy loses her footing on the countertop, foot slipping off the edge and sending her toppling face-first toward the floor. The cat dashes forward, surging upward, form growing and shifting and eyes alight with blue until -
A strong, sure arm wraps snugly around her waist, steady and tanned from the harvest sun, while its opposite spans across the backs of her shoulders. Marcy gazes up at her savior, taking in familiar mahogany-colored curls and onyx-dark eyes and full, grinning lips. 
“Careful there, darlin’,” Anne says with a wink and a smirk, and Marcy can feel her face heat a bit. 
“Ah.” 
A leaf falls out of Anne’s hair. Marcy sends it back into place with a flick of her finger and a wink of her own, tucking one of Anne’s wayward curls behind her ear. 
Anne splutters, and something sun-yellow and impossibly affectionate fills the cavities of Marcy’s chest. She presses their hands together, a habit-turned-spell, and she feels practically incandescent with the feeling, like she could-
<What the fuck are you guys supposed to be?> A new voice, steel-sharpened and moon-cold, breaks through Marcy’s mind and thus, the moment as well.
Oh. Right. The toa- the girl.
Marcy quickly clears her throat, untangling herself from her partner’s arms even as Anne mentally whines at her.
“Well, Miss Sasha, allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marcy Wu, and I’m a witch!” She exclaims with a dramatic bow and flourish. Sasha somehow seems even less impressed - it’s truly a marvel that she can express such an emotion with a toad’s face.
She gestures to the woman beside her, who rests a calloused hand on her shoulder. “And the lovely lady who brought you here is Anne, my loyal familiar.”
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verflares · 5 days
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deep melancholic sigh. almost done with objectifying that blonde man i think
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