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#THAT'S why it's hard to care
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As someone who works w animals “animals are not mindless automatons, they actually do have feelings and individuality and are capable of feeling acute physical and emotional pain and of forming deep attachments with other animals and people” and “animals are not human infants and have a limited capacity to communicate with humans so you have to familiarize yourself with their boundaries bc if they feel threatened or overstimulated they will fall back on their basic instincts and if you fuck around you are going to find out” are statements that can and should coexist
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humans-are-tasty · 4 months
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danggerine · 6 months
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going insane thinking about the harrow and palamedes friendship. harrow, who has never met another necromancer her age forming a bizarro 3D chess rivalry while pal worries about her safety at every possible turn. harrow, who is up to her eyebrows in paranoia and secrecy, trusting the sixth house with gideon unconscious and hurt, letting them into the ninth house quarters unsupervised. if “i cannot conceive of a universe without you in it” is goth for i love you, “death first to vultures and scavengers” has got to be goth for i love you (platonic). pal’s first reaction when harrow comes into his bubble in the river is to scoop her up in a hug, and at this point she doesn’t remember anything about him because cutting out all her memories of gideon is impossible without cutting out memories of the sixth, but she still makes him a skelehand to inhabit anyway. when harrow’s memories are finally whole, she tells dulcinea she couldn’t face pal knowing that his pen pal girlfriend died on her account, but the next time she “faces” him, palamades’s soul is in someone else’s body and harrow’s body is full of nona’s soul. he spends six months protecting and caring for harrow’s body (and nona obv), believing in the possibility of bringing her back to it the same way cam believed in him. “god, do you know i miss harrow terribly.” and by the time harrow comes back to her body at the very end of ntn, pal is gone forever, fully pauled. the last time harrow and palamades see each other as their complete selves is in canaan house, alive and unlyctored. two of the smartest and loneliest people in the solar system meet each other in the worst of circumstances and spend the rest of the story dancing around each other as fragments of themselves, trying to care about each other in the interim but never fully meeting like they did the first time. a friendship made almost entirely of missing the other person. “do you know i miss harrow terribly.” god. i need to lie down
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rovermcfly · 9 months
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the visual gag of crowley carrying a stack of books and then throwing it out of frame like a cartoon character was so funny, but absolutely hysterical when they did it twice
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lazylittledragon · 3 months
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I've been loving your domestic life Astarion and Dorian comics! Both the actual content and your drawing style are so good!
No pressure to answer at all, but I'm super curious how Dorian would have handled being a sea horse dad? Like super uncomfortable gender disphoria or glowing and loving it?
thank you!!!
i think he probably would’ve just vibed through it? elf gender roles are funky and he’s not really ‘gender conforming’ anyway so i feel like he’d just be chill about it
also there would be a Lot of knitting to do as a distraction
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ruubesz-draws · 4 months
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... Gigan Rex and Megalon kinda did deserve it...
Minus one won't hesitate
MEGALONHOWTFDOIDRAWYOU Stupid bug and his lack of references...
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thinkin' about Bardaby and his illusion smoke...
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b4rfbrain · 5 months
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playing it cool is soooo incredibly stupid
tell people you love them. tell them you miss them or think about them all the time. respond right away. text them first.
people are so cold but being warm feels so good. close interpersonal relationships that hold meaning are one of the best things that this world has to offer. don’t deny yourself from that experience out of pride or fear of rejection.
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ikarakie · 1 year
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hopper sees steve as a surrogate son. really, he shouldn't make such a habit of picking up stray children, but he looked at harrington and saw a kid who just... needed someone. saw the vacancy in his eyes when he thought no one was looking. saw the police file, the noise complaints and the few reports from hawkins middle school about suspicious bruises that had been swept away. saw a boy who'd seen too much. who just needed someone to lean on.
so he tries to be that. offers the kid a hand every now and then. keeps an eye on him, all alone in that big house, after everything. after '83 and then '84 and then summer of '85, when he'd signed his medical papers because there was no other adult for him around. it always left him a bit hollow, but he told himself that it was okay as long as he was around. as long as steve knew, deep down, that he could come to hopper for help, even if he'd wait until he was on the brink of overload before doing so.
it's all this that makes the sight of steve's car, that brown beemer that had dropped his daughter back home so many times, pulled into a ditch with the lights off cause his stomach to sink. a million awful things come to mind as he pulls in behind it and quickly hops out of his cruiser.
had he seen something and spiralled into a panic? had he gotten a bad migraine? had he run off into the woods alone?
thankfully, he finds the best case scenario: a slightly flushed and dishevelled steve rolling down a foggy window. grinning like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar when he realises it's just hopper. he's fine, he's in one piece.
what's not fine, however, is the person with him in the backseat. eddie fucking munson, a kid hopper's put in handcuffs more than once. not because he's another boy, who gives a shit about that, but because it's eddie munson. drug dealer, general troublemaker, and definitely a bad influence on his boy.
he does his best to save the judgement this time, sensing the fear emanating off the couple. tells them to be more careful, to go home and kiss or do whatever there instead in case anyone else drives by tonight. munson looks at him like he's grown a second head, (which, fair. usually their interactions go a lot less amicably than this) and steve just tears up and nods. he reaches in to ruffle the boy's hair, ignoring the protests, before reluctantly trudging back to his car and driving away.
he calls steve the next afternoon and gets him to confess that, yes, he is dating edward 'eddie' munson. no, it's not a fling. yes, they're boyfriends, god help him. he gripes about it a decent amount, because really, steve? that one? you picked that one? but he keeps the tone light enough that steve feels comfortable enough to defend eddie's honour amidst laughter. within a week he's got steve sat across from him, eddie by his side looking two seconds away from shitting himself.
"well, boys." he grins, cracking his knuckles. eddie watches. gulps. "let's have a little chat, shall we?"
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proxycrit · 3 months
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Part 1 / Part 2
Emmet remembers when he and Ingo first brought Elesa to explore Celestial Tower, back when they were fourteen and thought they were immortal.
“Allegedly, the bell chime will bring ghosts home”, ingo had told emmet with the pompous knowing energy of a child who read way too much brochures. “It’s culturally significant! We must ring it.”
“Hmmm,” emmet had responded suspiciously. “Brother. The bell is at the top of the tower.” The implication stands: Ingo, there are thirty flights of stairs between here and the top, and no elevator to speak of.
Don’t be a coward, Litwick had told Emmet with the blaise tone of somebody who’s going to be piggy backing off of somebody else. Go ring the bell. Tynamo, sensing a litten fight, floated towards a loitering blitzle.
Ingo turns his lilipup eyes on Elesa, who’s squinting at the carved stone faces of the front door.
“Elesa? What do you think?”
Elesa thinks. She shrugs. “We already made our way here,” she said in accented galarian. “Might as well make it the rest of the way. Ganbatte!”
Emmet sighs. “This is a mistake,” he tells the two in exhaustive patience, but lets himself be dragged into the building.
Last time the twins were here, Ingo caught litwick— but not before she managed to nab a good chunk of Emmet’s soul. It’s not terrible; he felt fatigued for a week and bounced back pretty quickly, but it was the principle of the whole situation— celestial tower’s a pain in the ass and Emmet will stand by that until the day he dies.
Like right now.
The map isn’t working. Emmet checked it once. He’s checked it twice. He’s taken out his pen and written on it, which he would usually never do but desperate times call for desperate measures. The compass he brought spins useless circles. It’s like chargestone cave up here, but worse because instead if electric pokemon it’s all ghosts.
“We’re lost, yyup yup!” He announced to the crew. “I vote we eat Ingo first.”
“I love you too,” Ingo told Emmet placidly. “But we all know between the two of us, you’re the tastier one.” Litwick gives Emmet a thumbs up. Emmet gasps in mock affront.
“Elesa, help!”
Elesa gives the two of them a wary look. It took two floors for her to realize this is not just a weird temple with strange rocks, but a full out graveyard. She’s not very happy about that development.
“Don’t drag me into this,” she tells them. “Teme wa urusaii.”
“I will take that as a compliment,” Ingo reports back.
Emmet, who’s cheerfully struggles with Galarian on a good day, simply gives her a thumbs up.
The three painstakingly crawl their way up. And up. If all else fails, Emmet told himself, at least they can orient themselves towards high ground.
“We’re like pidoves,” Ingo gasps. He has fallen behind them on the stairs, with Emmet taking the lead through sheer spite despite his legs going numb on floor twenty two. “We, hah, we are attracted by the magnet of the bell, like, like probopass-“
“I am emmet! You are not making, sense!” Emmet called back. Elesa, who’s stuck between them and looking two steps from perpetual collapse, giggles.
“No, no hear me out, Ingo wheezes. “What if the bell’s a magnetic pole? And that’s why your compass doesn’t wo, woo, hahh, work.”
Emmet stops to rest, just because Ingo is using precious breathing air to infodump. Elesa gratefully slumps against the railing. Tynamo and litwick, lazy in their still small size, have settled on a weary blitzle and look very smug doing so. (Emmet is not jealous, he tells himself. Emmet is also lying.)
“The bell’s important,” Ingo had repeated.
“Okay,” Elesa responds. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to us.”
And Emmet finds that he agrees with Elesa. Partially because they crawled up twenty fucking three flights of stairs, but also because Ingo thinks this is important, so it is.
And here’s the thing—
— emmet doesn’t remember much after that.
The rest of that trip was a blur of exhausted groaning and burning legs, and by the time the trio managed to breach floor thirty, people’s brains have all but dribbled out their ears. Emmet remembers being disgustingly sweaty. He remembers blitzle almost tripping to death and litwick’s swearing. He remembers tynamo sticking to his neck like a damp towel. He remembers Ingo’s excited sneasel smile, and the way the sunset bounced off of Elesa’s hair.
He remembers the brassy ring of the Celestial bell. It sounded like victory.
But it was Elesa’s cackle turned scream as Ingo swiped cold hands down her neck that sounded like home.
—-
So when the conductor at thirty one, lost and disoriented in the Impossible Place, heard the sound of a familiar bell, ringing over and over and over-
-the sound of laughter-
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-EMMET! Elesa cried-
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-like a homing pidove, the conductor, thinks nonsensically as something in him perks up.
(Emmet had always liked winning, more than anything else, and the sound of victory calls him home.)
Elesa catches lightning in a bottle. Elesa, arms outstretched, finds purchase in her brother, and does not let go.
Emmet is so, so cold, Elesa thinks as the wind steals air from her lungs. (That’s okay. She’s already breathless from a terrible business called hope.)
Emmet stares back. His hands flap against Elesa’s jacket. Elesa desperately drinks in his wan face and too wide eyes and his frost bitten lips. In a tiny, meek voice, almost lost to the wind, he asks:
“Are you real?”
Elesa lets out an ugly sob. Her tears whip away in the wind as they fall. Emmet’s frightened countenance turns immediately to alarm. His shaky grasp becomes a solid grip as they spin through the air, cushioned by chandelure’s psychic.
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“I think so??” Elesa warbles. She sees Emmet’s eyes dart to her mouth. He’s reading mirroring her, she realizes with giddy delight— it’s such an Emmet thing to do, to read lips, and-
“I am Emmet,” Emmet breathes. His eyes have started to water. “Yyou are Elesa- Oh dragons, Elesa!?“
Elesa reaches. Hesitates.
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Emmet grabs elesa by the lapels and crushes her tight against him. Elesa holds on, and the grief and relief in her accumulates into a wet sopping mess. She’s ruining his jacket, she mourns, but its okay because he’s dripping all over hers.
She can’t hear what he’s saying into her shoulder, can’t read what he says, but everything’s okay because every part of her is chiming
You came back
You’re here
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I’m not alone anymore.
Around them, the air distorts as Chandelure’s psychic wavers, flutters, and solidifies. Gravity reverses its call as they settle gently on the ground, dust billowing in all directions.
The ghost pokemon drops next to them, shaking so hard the musical clang of glass makes Elesa flinch.
You fucks, Chandelure gasps. DON’T GO LEAPING OFF BUILDINGS, I AM NOT YOUR EMERGENCY PARACHUTE.
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“I’m sorry,” Elesa gasps, still giddy from the adrenaline.
AND YOU! Chandelure howls, whirling on Emmet, who’s still staring at the ghost with huge eyes. He’s gripping on to solid ground with the energy of a man who realized he could have been a splat on the ground.
YOU LEFT!
Emmet winces.
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You- You left us, you left me-
Ah, ah no, Elesa thinks as golden globules of light shed from Chandelure. This is what a ghost looks like crying.
Emmet holds out his arms. Chandelure drifts into his embrace, and shakes, and shakes, and shakes.
You left me, the ghost pokemon whispers. How dare you. How could you.
“I didn’t mean to,” Emmet whispers. “I’m sorry.”
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Stop doing this to me, Chandelure demands. Golden brine joins human tears, like drops of sun trapped in wet glass. Stop going where I can not follow.
And Emmet holds his tongue, because he knows he can not promise staying. Not while Ingo and Eelektross are still in Hisui.
(In the back of Emmet’s hurt and shattered mind is a spark. Synapses connect. The cold breach of the Distortion does nothing to drown out the sudden flare of hope in Emmet’s chest, so great he can not breathe, so strong he can not feel, because there’s a path. A difficult, painful path through the Space that Can Not Be, but a path all the same.)
“Elesa, Chandelure-“ Emmet’s voice breaks. He wants to tell them about Eelektross. He wants to tell them about the terrible past that is Hisui. He wants to explain how the last five months were filled with horror and wonder and fear and hope.
Hope, he thinks. So he says this:
“I know how to get Ingo home.”
NOTES:
AAAAAND THAT’S ALL FOR THIS DRABBLE. ITS OUT NOW. I CAN FINALLY GO BACK TO POSTING HAPPY SHENANIGANS! (Now you know the shape of their story.)
Thanks for reading this monster of a post!
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haunted-xander · 7 months
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I guess old feelings don't disappear that easily
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coolnonsenseworld · 3 months
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Lance is extremely protective and gives it all he's got when he has someone he loves (even if said person is the strongest, most resilient guy in the Universe) and you can pry that out of my dead cold hands
Linktr.ee/mezzy
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fluffyartbl0g · 1 year
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Someone get this man a younger sibling that ISNT like. Twice his height.
#one piece#op fanart#monkey d. luffy#shirahoshi#kozuki momonosuke#IVE FINISHED REREADING THROUGH WANO IM OBSESSED WITH MOMONOSUKE NOW#I LOVE HIM SO MUCH AND I MISS HIM SO MUCH T - T!!!!#literally tears streaming down my face ‘But I think of you like a little brother!#You’ve heard of laser beam that make you read one piece#get ready for laser beam that makes you REREAD one piece#srsly. do it. I didn’t care about characters like bellamy or shirahoshi or even momonosuke all that much on my first read through#IM OBSESSED NOW. I LOVE HARUDJIN THE GIANT TOO AND I CANT WAIT TO SEE MORE OF HIM T - T!!! I ALSO DIDNT CARE ABOUT KATAKURI LIKE AT ALL#NOW I CANT GET ENOUGH#also what the actual heck guys. I know its only been a couple of months since wano ended.#but why aren’t there any fics centred on luffy and momo being brothers… There’s like one on ao3 and it’s in italian…#PEOPLE ARE ACTUALLY SLEEPING SO HARD ON LUFFY BEING THE OLDER BROTHER/MENTOR TO BOTH MOMO AND SHIRAHOSHI#IM SO MAD#SHIRAHOSHI AND MOMO ARE BOTH THE CHOSEN ONES ; - ;!!! AND LUFFY HAS BEEN PROHPESIZED TO HELP GUIDE THEM TO USE THEIR POWERS!!!#eg shirahoshi hearing the voices of the sea kings and momo hearing zunesha#both times luffy hasn’t been able to talk to them… but he’s been able to guide his younger siblings to use their powers properly#No im fr obsessed with luffy and shirahoshi and momo WHERE THE GOD DAMN FANFICTION AAAGFRGEHSHHSHSHS#LUFFY TREATING SHIRAHOSHI AND MOMO THE SAME WAY ACE TREATED HIM WHEN HE WAS YOUNGER T - T#KILL ME AAAAA1!!1!1!1!!1!1!1#99 percent of all tags on my posts are just me freaking out LMAOOOO
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crybaby-bkg · 5 months
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Bakugou does your skincare for you on days when you’re just not feeling it. he’s only started doing his own thing because of some shitty products you had gotten, that did worse for your skin than better. But of course, his skin is something miraculous, can be soothed by the demon products that broke you out.
but he stands beside you in the bathroom now, during your nightly routine. does everything in the same order as you, tells you quietly about his day during this small, intimate moment. he notices when you’re tired, when you skip more than two steps, do something quick and easy.
“Sit down,” he tells you, demanding but yet so gentle. you’re tired, bone deep, and he sees that. can feel it in the way your shoulders slump, and that tiny little smile whenever he says something funny. but he takes care of you in those moments, doesn’t ask what’s wrong if you’re not offering the information up. knows that sometimes it’s not always a specific issue, knows that sometimes you just get like that and need the extra attention and comfort.
so he helps you with your skincare routine. rubs whatever oils and balms you need into your cheeks and forehead, spritzes your face as soft as he can. he applies your lip oil and wipes a rag down your nose to clean your face up. his hands are gentle in their ministrations, rough palms suddenly soft as they swipe over your cheeks. and when he finishes up with you, does he press the softest kiss to your hairline and cheek and lips. goes about his own routine quickly before he’s helping you to your feet, leading you back to the room.
on these nights, they’re silent but say so much about—about everything. and you hold him closer than you ever do; in thanks, in gratefulness, in gratitude, in love.
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bruciemilf · 1 year
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Comic book writers who still make Bruce hit his kids even after years of mass criticism from fans who TELL you it's a bad creative choice that pushes them away from the fan base and comics in general,,, you did this for what?
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shootingstarrfish · 6 months
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i love the contrast between how the game wants you to view Solomon (sussy baka man who is very terrible i promise i swear hes horrible you shouldnt trust him okay trust me hes the worst)
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and then how Solomon acts in Nightbringer (will live in the past where everyone hates him/isnt as close to him just to protect you and just wants to be a househusband and will go to war against powerful demons for you despite his powers being weakened and literally just wants you to be safe)
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