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#like this is what i envision
HAPPY APRIL 1st, i wrote a fic about the suez canal fiasco bc it's still the funniest thing that's ever happened. synopsis is "grumpy gods from different mythologies argue over whose job it is to unstick the goddamn boat"
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bizarrelovesquare · 11 months
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♡ Ms. Caline Bustier & her partner Gisele ♡
Miraculous Ladybug, s5 ep 22, Collusion
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tinyfantasminha · 5 months
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the cutest squad
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bxnnie-bxwl · 6 months
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ive been loving tzitzimitl-eztli's art of their bear freddy au! and ive been so inspired i thought as an exercise i would draw big rabbit bonnie, inspired by their au!
go check out the art its amazing!! <3
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wanderer-clarisse · 1 year
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I've reached the Helm's Deep chapter :>>
'Where is Gimli?'
'I do not know,' said Aragorn. 'I last saw him fighting on the ground behind the wall, but the enemy swept us apart.'
'Alas! That is evil news,' said Legolas.
'He is stout and strong,' said Aragorn. 'Let us hope that he will escape back to the caves. There he would be safe for a while. Safer than we. Such a refuge would be to the liking of a dwarf.'
'That must be my hope,' said Legolas. 'But I wish that he had come this way. I desired to tell Master Gimli that my tale is now thirty-nine.'
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'Forty-two, Master Legolas!' he cried. 'Alas! My axe is notched: the forty-second had an iron collar on his neck. How is it with you?'
'You have passed my score by one,' answered Legolas. 'But I do not grudge you the game, so glad am I to see you on your legs!'
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dailykafka · 1 year
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Karl Briullov, The Last Day of Pompeii / Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena
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THE WAY YOU DRAW BARNABY AS BOTH DOG AND HUMAN FORM IS SO ABJZJSKWJWKSKZKZ 😭😭😭😭💓💓💓💓💓 STILL WAITING FOR HUMAN HOWDY DESIGN :')
oh hey i actually have a lil headshot doodle of him:
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ozymandien · 4 months
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monk zhu chongba
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raiiny-bay · 12 days
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the boys, 80s-ified
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shadowofaghost5 · 10 months
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Give it up for everybody’s favourite street rat!!!
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Fanart of Aaron from Fox’s Tounge and Kirin’s Bone, an incredible book by @muffinlance
I worked hard on this an am incredibly proud of how it turned out. If you wanna hear about the process, feel free to check out me rambling in the tags.
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astrolavas · 2 years
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plsplsss if you don't mind can you post that future hunter concept from twitter here i love it sm
LMAOXJKSK here, presenting the blorbo
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scificrows · 6 months
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The feed ID doesn’t need to say anything other than what everyone else’s says, just name, gender, and…” She trailed off. She was looking at me and I was looking at her. - Martha Wells, Fugitive Telemetry (The Murderbot art I used is the official cover art from the French edition of ASR)
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frmtheroombelow · 2 days
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good-wine-and-cheese · 2 months
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Dramatic piano tantrum redraw but make it Pink
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hwaitham · 9 days
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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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leenfiend · 10 months
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i would trust my instincts but they lie to me like i lie to you
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