I'm sorry, I always thought the Bohrok were big, hulking, troll-like beasts, but...
...they're short, squat, troll-like beasts?
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mia inspired phoenix!
fanart for @tacobellabeanburrito ‘s new look turnabouts on ao3
bonus live prosecutor reaction
he is Haunted by the Images
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I have figured out the manual focus function on my phone camera, which means I can now show off my neon tetras, which are so fat that three separate people have asked me if they are pregnant.
The answer is no, sorry, they just won't stop taking bites of the loach pellets.
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There are no LBSCR E2s left.
Would anyone remember them? Would they be another piece of forgotten machinery, with few photos and even less video footage? And in the universe we live in, they are so easily recognizable to foamers and outsiders directed to them- saying “That’s Thomas. He was real.”
Real and made real again in storybooks and TV shows and wooden toys and Bachmann models. Those 10 E2s, faulty lumbering engines with a wheelbase too big for tight turns and water tanks too small to be good enough for the short goods trains they were designed for… became the most famous tank engines in the world. Can you imagine if we still had them? If we still had one? Like wistful lovers of recently extinct animals, we write, we draw, we try to bring them back to life.
Inspired By
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Things were basically fine during Ingo and Emmet's childhood until they were like seven.
Ingo basically came out of the womb sneezing snowflakes, and that was perfectly fine. By the time he was about three, he could make tiny flurries -- and often did so unintentionally -- around him and some lumps of snow. Freezing cups of water by accident.
Five, and he was making snowballs. He accidentally froze the entire fountain in the courtyard just walking by.
Seven, and we've got a tiny prince making snowmen and freezing small ponds to go ice skating with his brother.
After his isolation, Ingo never really experimented with his powers, but they were clearly getting significantly stronger, because by the time he ascends to the throne, he's. well. capable of accidentally causing a blizzard to cover Nimbasa, freezing the rivers that run in from the coast on either side of Route 4, and generally causing a catastrophe.
Things went from 0 to 100 very fast in the interim, clearly.
Conversely, Emmet is a grown adult and the worst he does is sneeze flakes of ash and spit embers when he's mad. Has he set things on fire? No. He's not cursed.
Also I want you to know that I'm listening to "Once Upon a December," hence the abrupt icy au posting.
Hehe.
Sno.
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So what do you do when your favourite rapper makes a catchy song about the hardships of life that you want to love but upon release can’t connect with at all and after a few listens almost outright dislike because none of the pain and hardship life has put you through has ever made you a better person or given you the energy/motivation to do better and it actually just did the complete opposite and you’ve lost out on precious years of your life and so many opportunities while trying to process the trauma and undo the damage
But everyone else seems to love the song to the point that you start to wonder if maybe you’re just a fucking idiot for not being able to make something good out of said trauma and hardship instead of just being filled with crippling anxiety and depression and bitterness and grief and rage
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a look into tank’s recklessness
tank made a decision when they lied to david about quinn. mutually assured destruction, that’s what they promised themself. the pack could call them reckless and idiotic all they wanted, but it was a conscious choice. quinn and tank were nuclear bombs, destined to go off together. binary stars gone supernova. they had never planned to make it out of the final showdown, why would they? what did they have to go back to? a pack that they always ended up disappointing? a friend who couldn’t remember their existence? an alpha who always got stuck cleaning their messes?
the fact of the matter is that tank never accounted for their survival, they didn’t want to. maybe that’s why they took hits they could’ve easily dodged, went into places despite any danger. so they took every lecture and scolding, knowing full well their mind has been made up.
tank didn’t account for sam. sweet, loving sam who looked at them like they lit the stars every night. he saw past the scars and bruises and history and found something worth loving, worth cherishing, worth every gentle touch. they weren’t supposed to have anything to come back to. they had been so careful that their death would be a clean break, an overgrown gravestone in a forgotten corner of a cemetery. but now the thought of leaving sends aches to their chest. they couldn’t bare the thought of being another name on the long list of things that sam had lost. they couldn’t do that to him, they wouldn’t.
maybe, just maybe, they could be more careful, plan for a “life after quinn.” and when they see sam’s smile when he looks at them, tank thinks, “maybe i could stick around for as long as he’ll have me”
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