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#wild answers!!
awildkelkinnie · 7 months
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Which color has the worst personality?
Er this is a hard one..i think all colors got their own benefits but to me? I might say green. As much as i love green it probably gets jealous A TON i mean its always assosiacted with jealousy, so its probably a very jealous color
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the-phantom-peach · 7 months
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a handful of miscellaneous domestic zelink for my the soul 💘
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celestetcetera · 6 months
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Wild Blue Yonder really emphasized the Doctor not knowing the answer, huh? He’s wrong about Donna 3/4 times, he doesn’t speak the alien language, he doesn’t know what the creatures are nor is he very familiar with the space they’ve landed in. Hell, he even has a line admitting he’s wrong often.
But you know what else this episode did? It emphasized Donna’s brilliance. She may think she’s stupid, but she’s sharp as hell. She’s the one who figures out the imposter after giving a Doctor-level tangential speech. She’s the one who’s able to clear her head. She asks the right questions— why are their doubles scaring them?
Her imposter thinks she’s dumb at first, but when no-thing Donna realizes the real one’s actually smart, that’s when she’s able to break through the salt spell. Unfortunately Donna being brilliant means her imposter must be too.
Anyway. Love the role reversal. But for it to come at a time when the Doctor is feeling lost and confused, when they’ve just discovered they don’t even know themselves— it probably stings. Because what are they if not the smart one? When you take away all they’ve learned of this universe, there’s nothing left.
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canisalbus · 4 months
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Building on the favourite animal ask, another Very Important Question: favourite PREHISTORIC animal? And why? (I've always loved gorgonopsids and pterosaurs like anurognathus, but a new favourite is aquilolamma the eagle shark. They're just very cute).
I feel like my top favorites are pretty pedestrian, but I like prehistoric deer a lot!
Megaloceros giganteus aka Irish elk
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Sinomegaceros ordosianus & Sinomegaceros yabei
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Eucladoceros dicranios
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Cervalces scotti
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callixton · 4 months
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taskmaster comment section abt alex & greg’s relationship….. girl
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madarasfloofyhair · 10 months
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the gojo getou storyline makes me unhinged for so many reasons. it's told totally out of order. you meet getou's corpse first, then watch gojo kill him in the film after getou's gone insane, and then you see their friendship. that friendship that's just two teenagers and all it's fun chaos and conflicting ideals. then. toji happens. and both of them during this period were SO CLOSE to being the only ones who understood each other. so close to being able to see through one another-- "you haven't released your technique yet, have you? you've not slept either, and I bet you're not gonna sleep tonight either-" and "suguru... have you lose weight?" and yet their friendship, the trust between them, "after all, we're the strongest", was splitting at the seams the more what they could individually tolerate changed. gojo had awakening by himself, accepted himself as THE strongest, felt a little untouchable and so able to change things, was choosing teaching and facing the elders-- and getou's conflicting ideals and sacrifices in all his comparative powerlessness as missions by himself piled up sent him spiraling. the dam breaks and getou takes his own route and so becomes a wound gojo would hold onto for the rest of his life. a pain that would be weaponised against him. it's feels like such a flip from adult gojo being seemingly too cool, uncaring and childish, when in fact it's getou who treats their past friendship as some trivial teenage stuff, while gojo holds onto everything with deep regret, and later with deep betrayal at seeing getou's corpse used this way.
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wispscribbles · 3 months
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HELLO! YOUR ART IS ABSOLUTELY SCRUMPTIOUS!!
It fills me with joy every time I see your work!! This isn’t really an ask, I just wanted to say I love the things you make.
Thank you for creating things!! 💜
You wrote this in DECEMBER im so sorry - I lost u in my drafts. I wanted to add some doodle or something and now its been months woops ! Thank you so so much, I appreciate you writing me <33
Here's a tender ghoap
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maybeinanotherworld · 9 months
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physics professors are really going through it- every day, I think about my quantum physics professor who once went on a rant about how there's too many types of mustard these days followed by the words "well, at least quantum physics is less complicated than the mustard aisle" followed by one of the most cursed derivations I have ever seen
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markscherz · 11 months
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Found your account from one of my mutuals reblogging that one mini frog post, could I learn about some fucked up frogs :D
Everybody is always banging on about Pipa pipa. Nobody is ever talking about how fucked up Hemiphractidae reproduction is
Like, they range from concealed carry, like this Gastrotheca orophylax
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which they achieve with a pouch that has a weird ass opening (lack of hyphenation intentional) (not actually anywhere near the cloaca of the frog) (this has earned them the common name 'marsupial frogs' for a very obvious reason)
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…to open carry, like this Fritziana goeldii
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which hatch out but remain glued on until developing sufficiently, like this Cryptobatrachus boulengeri
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Pretty fucked up, if you ask me.
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awildkelkinnie · 9 months
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!!Welcome!!
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I'm a WildKelkinnie, but you can just refer to me as KelKin
I may not post here much, but most likely I will reblog a lot! I'm gonna do my best to keep it simple!!! :3 (Navigation tags will be tagged)
Im planning to make a google doc or something, but for now this is my intro!
Basic Info!!:
Im a Minor!!
I speak both Eng and Filipino!
Im a self shipper!!
My top 3 singers are Mitski, Bruno Mars, and Liana Flores!! And my fave bands/groups are The Smiths, 3OH!3, and Halina
List of F/Os!!:
(Characters with a <3 means i feel more comfy talking abt them in public :3)
Kaito Momota from DV3 <3
Captain John Price from COD
Giacomo from ScarVio
Ganondorf from TLOZ
Capsaicin Cookie from CRK <3
Lucas Lee from Scott Pilgram VS the World/ Take Off
Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat
All Might/Toshinori Yagi from My Hero Academia <3
Trent from TDI <3
Asahi Azumane from Haikyuu <3
Ingeniun/Tenya Iida from My Hero Academia
Sideswipe from Rid2015
My Fandoms!!:
Present Mic/Hizashi Yamada from My Hero Academia <3
Royal Margarine Cookie from CRK <3
Captain Caviar Cookie from CRK <3
Transformers!!!
TMNT!!!
Total Drama Island!!
Danganronpa!!
Call of Duty (ish)!!
Omori!!
Oshinbo!!
The Gifted (Thai)
The ancient Magus Bride!!
Cookie run Kingdom!!
The legend of Zelda!!
Scott Pilgram!!
Pokemon!!
MHA!!
Godzilla!!
Haikyuu!!
!! DNI !!:
Basics (Homophobic and Transphobic, racist, etc)
Proshippers
Overall anyone whos gonna be a mean person here
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achenetype · 3 months
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Hihi can you please do a Luke x reader where it’s basically an unrequited love like reader is so in love with Luke and he has no idea so she moves on and years later she’s over him and confesses to him like a oh I thought you should know and the whole time Luke had been in love with her, kinda base it off that one TikTok audio where it’s like “I’m not in love with you anymore” “I never knew you were” 🩷🩷
OHH YOURE FEEDING MY ANGST BRAIN WITH THIS ONE. buckle up lets break some hearts
edit: this ended up being WAY sadder than i originally intended. i am so sorry anon oh my god
i gave you a rare gift (but you didn't want it) — luke castellan
pairing: luke castellan x fem!reader
word count: 2.8k
content: angst, major character/reader death, unrequited love, mutual pining, reader is part of kronos' army, luke and reader are doomed by the narrative, [Y/N] used (sparingly), alcohol mention, description of injury
listening to: bloodfest (from mizumono) by brian reitzell
You are twenty-two years old, sitting on the rocky beach of a lake somewhere in the forests of upstate New York. Light, gentle fog hangs in the air around you, and the only sound is the tap-tap-tap of Luke skipping rocks across the water.
Come dawn, the world will burn. The gods will be dethroned. Every demigod will either be free, or dead.
But now, at midnight, you are twenty-three and Luke turns to you. He's holding a small, squashed cupcake in one hand. "Happy birthday," he says, "to my right-hand man." He pauses. "Woman. Right-hand woman."
He holds the pastry out to you and smiles, but something behind his eyes is empty. Hollow. He hadn't been sleeping recently. As much as he tried to hide it, he couldn't stop you from seeing when he came to you every morning for a cup of coffee and to debrief for the day.
Perks of being the revolution leader's best friend, you think. His right-hand woman.
Luke's eyes flick from the cake to your face. "Do you like it?" He asks, and for a split second, you swear there's a note of hope in his voice. "I wanted to do something, y'know," he says. "Twenty-three is huge. It's a monumental age."
You nod, but stay quiet.
He pauses for a second. "You remember how you always said you wished you never had a birthday?"
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When you were twelve, nearly thirteen, your mother drove you across the country to go to summer camp.
"It'll be like a road trip," she said, tossing your duffel bag into the back seat of her battered car. "And then, hey, you'll only stay at camp until the end of August, and then you can come back and go to school. See all your friends again." She squeezed your shoulder and pushed the car door closed. "How about that?"
"Sure," you said. "Super fun."
And it was; you were actually kind of excited. You'd never been to New York. It seemed a million universes away.
And it was your birthday tomorrow. Maybe this was a gift, something that your mother had put together to make up for the years of being too tired and too drunk to make a cake, or get presents, or anything.
Your mother put her hands on her hips and sighed. "You know how I feel about the attitude, yeah? Let's not do this today."
"I wasn't even trying to—" You cut off as your mother glared at you, her face tense. You knew that look: the biting-the-inside-of-her-cheek, trying-to-be-understanding, trying-to-be-a-good-mom-despite-it-all look.
You hated that look.
"Just..." She sighed. "Just get in the damn car, [Y/N]."
You did, fighting back the tears building in the corners of your eyes, and the slam of the car door closing was as loud as thunder.
Twenty silent minutes of city streets and highway merge ramps and cold, empty stretches of asphalt and concrete passed before either of you spoke.
"Mom," you said, thirty-three seconds into minute twenty-one, "I'm sorry for talking back earlier." Your voice was quiet, shaking, cupped in your throat like a scared animal.
She didn't answer, keeping her eyes fixed on the road.
"I don't like being like this, Mom," you said, looking over at her. The silhouette of her through the driver's side window, backlit by the streetlights, was shapeless. Impassive. "I don't like doing this with you all the time."
She scoffed.
You pulled your legs to your chest, tucking your head between your knees, and tried to find sleep.
You weren't sure how long you slept, but you woke up to the sound of music playing softly over the speakers. Exit signs whizzed past you at what felt like breakneck speed. You wondered, briefly, if you would break your neck if you jumped out of the car right now.
Ultimately you decided against it. You didn't want your mother's last words to you to be, get in the damn car.
That would make her feel guilty, you thought, and that guilt would make her hate me even more.
"I don't wanna fight," you tried instead, picking at a loose thread in the cuff of your jacket sleeve. "Mom, I'm sorry, okay? I don't want us to be mad at each other anymore," you said. A sob caught in your throat, heavy and wet and choking.
Your mother sighed and reached one hand from the wheel to tuck your hair behind your ear. "I know you don't, sweetie," she said. "I don't want to be mad at you either."
"Then why do you do it," you asked.
When she turned to look at you, her eyes were wet. She smiled, or tried to. "Sometimes, certain people just…can't help but fight," she said. "It's just part of who we are, I think."
"Did you fight with Dad?"
Your mother inhaled, quick and sharp through her nose, as she flicked the turn signal to right and guided the car down the exit ramp from the highway, her eyes locked ahead. "Yes," she said. "Sometimes. Sometimes I think that's where we get it."
You swallowed. "Do you ever miss him?"
She doesn't peel her gaze away from the road. "Every day."
The two of you made your way through bustling streets and across too many bridges to count. You thought you fell asleep again, for a minute or maybe a year. Maybe it was all a dream.
"Mom," you asked as she turned onto a worn dirt road, the sunrise barely stretching over the horizon, "why are you bringing me here?"
She didn't answer for a moment. Two moments, then three. Through the leaves, you saw one tree standing impossibly tall. A pine tree.
Your mother parked the car and turned to you. "Because I don't know what to do with you, [Y/N]," she said. "I don't know how I can keep you," she paused, "safe. How I could do this, on my own, in any normal way."
She got out of the car and grabbed your bag, shoving it against your chest. "Camp is just up that hill there," she said, gesturing in the direction of the large tree you'd seen earlier. "They’ve got people up there waiting for you."
"Mom," you said. "Wait, I—I wanted to talk to you—"
She shook her head. "I can't come with you, sweetie." She smiled, the curve of her mouth falling just short of her eyes. "You just remember that I love you, okay?"
At that moment, you knew: she was going to leave you here.
“No,” you said, tears rolling down your face. “No, no—Mom. Mom, please.”
“Before you go,” she said, her voice tight and sharp, “I wanted to give you this.” She reached into the back seat and pulled out a jacket, worn leather with patched elbows. “It was mine in college,” she explained, not meeting your eyes. Like she was reading from a play or book, and you were the unfortunate audience. “I figure, it doesn’t fit me anymore.” 
She pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Happy birthday, baby.”
It was the first time you had ever felt like your mother loved you. You knew she liked you, sometimes. But you were never quite sure if she loved you until that moment. 
And then she got back into the car with one final, teary nod. 
And you never saw her again.
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“Yeah,” you tell Luke, shrugging. “I think I’ve got a pretty good reason, though.” Your lips curve into a smile.
He laughs and tilts his head. It’s a habit of his; he’ll say something and twist his neck just a fraction, narrow his eyes. A nervous tic that not even years of training and fighting and killing could stamp out.
You used to think about kissing his neck when he did it, but now you’re not sure whether you would know the difference between kissing and ripping his throat out. 
“True,” Luke concedes. You laugh, too, unrestrained and loud. “Gods, your sense of humor is dark.”
“You laughed first,” you remind him. He grins.
The cupcake he offers you, despite its lumps and smears of frosting, is pretty good. You split it apart with careful fingers and hand half of it back to him.
“You’re celebrating with me,” you laugh, “so you get half. That’s the rule.”
Luke simply smiles at you and takes the crumbling cake from your hand. “Whatever you say.”
You roll your eyes, grinning back. “Damn right.”
Luke’s laugh rings out again, sharp and bright against the night sky. Firelight flickers across his face, painting him in brilliant streaks of orange and gold. 
“After tomorrow,” Luke murmurs, pulling his knees up to his chest, “we can do this whenever we want.” The wind ruffles his hair almost fondly, floppy brown curls stirring and settling back against his skull.
You raise an eyebrow. “This?”
He gestures in a wide arc. “Be here, like this. Just be people, instead of demigods or heroes or revolutionaries.” Luke’s voice picks up, conviction surging into his words. “I mean, seriously—when was the last time you thought you would ever have a normal life?”
You’d never understood the demigods who joined Luke’s cause without knowing him. The plan itself seemed crazy—the only way anyone would follow it was if they knew their leader could pull it off. 
You have to know Luke to know he was capable of that, you think.
Until now. Now, you see what you think everyone else sees—a real leader, a revolutionary. A force for change with a silver tongue.
He makes it all seem so possible. You almost think he might pull it off.
Luke looks over to you. “We’re going to change everything,” he says. 
Almost.
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“We’re going to change the rules,” Luke said, spreading the map over an empty cot in his cabin. “If we want to win, we need to be thinking six steps ahead of the enemy.”
A few of the campers huddled around the makeshift table shuffled and coughed awkwardly. 
“Every strategy’s been done before,” a tall girl with bubblegum-pink hair and an eyebrow piercing shouted from the back of the group. “How are we going to out-war the god of war’s kids?” 
Murmurs rushed around the table, soft and susurrant. There’s no way we’re going anywhere here. We’ve gotten our asses beat six weeks in a row. What are we even doing?
Luke smiled. “Ares is the god of war,” he said, “not strategy.” He slung his arm around one of the campers next to him and inclined his head in the direction of the map.
Quietly, almost too quiet for you to hear, he murmured into the girl’s ear. “Don’t doubt yourself, Bethy,” he whispered.
You learned three things in the ten minutes that she spent explaining your team’s new strategy—
—one, your team was going to kick some major ass—
—two, your strategist’s name was Annabeth Chase, and she was the smartest eight-year-old you have ever met—
—and three, Luke was right.
Annabeth’s plan took the rules of Capture the Flag and threw them out the window. She split the team into four subgroups, each with a delegated leader. Luke nodded along as she talked, marking the map with a stubby pencil. 
When Annabeth’s eyes, dark and piercing, searched the crowd and landed on you, you felt your heart stop.
“You,” she said, “are you good with a sword?”
You raised your eyebrow, pointing to yourself—just to confirm this genius child was speaking to you—and Annabeth nodded. 
“I guess?” You said, shrugging. “I know some basic stuff, and I’m good at disarming.”
Annabeth’s face broke into a smile. “Work with Luke on the first wave of offense.” She gestured to the map. “You two will take points B and B-one,” she explained. “My group will take the A-points. You wait for our signal to move in.”
You met Luke’s eyes across the table. Hey, you mouthed. 
His eyes flicked up and down your form. Hey, he mouthed back. You ready to win?
You smiled and nodded.
Good, Luke said, all teeth. Let’s go.
He stood and grabbed his helmet. You did the same.
“I’m [Y/N],” you said as you followed Luke through the forest. “We, uh—we met when I first got here, like, a year ago.” I was sobbing my eyes out because my mother abandoned me, you didn’t add. It was kind of pathetic. I think I threw up from crying so hard.
You suddenly hoped Luke didn’t remember meeting you, actually. That would be less embarrassing.
He turned and caught your eye. “You live in the same cabin as me. ‘Course I know you.” 
Of course he remembers.
You laughed, flushing red. “Oh. Yeah. Of course.”
The silence was so thick, you could have cut it with the sleek bronze of your sword.
In the end, it was Luke who broke the silence. “You wanna play a game while we wait out here?”
You shrugged. “Sure,” you said. 
“Twenty questions,” Luke replied. “So we can learn enough about each other to actually work together.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite color?”
“Low-hanging fruit,” you said, your voice just barely taking on a teasing tone. “It’s green.” 
Luke laughed, loud and full and bright. “Apologies,” he said; mirth crept into his words, staining everything with a tinge of that laughter. “I’ll go for the more gut-wrenching, intimate questions next time.”
You flushed red again. Intimate questions. What the hell does he mean by that?
“My turn,” you said instead. “What do you want to be when you get older?”
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“We’ll be heroes,” Luke whispers. “Real heroes. Not figureheads propped up by the gods.”
You wish you could believe him. He’s lying on the beach next to you, his head resting in the junction between your shoulder and your neck. Over the treetops, the stars are beginning to fade from the sky.
It’s almost time.
Your throat feels like someone has sanded it down to expose your vocal cords. This is a bad idea, you want to say. We shouldn’t do this. Tell me we can still not do this. 
“Wanna play twenty questions?” You say, crackling and hoarse.
Luke turns to look at you. “Yeah,” he murmurs. 
“My turn first,” you whisper. Luke nods.
You take a deep breath, in and out. “Are we going to die doing this?”
Luke inhales sharply. “Maybe,” he says. Slowly. Deliberately. “But we’ll do everything we can to make sure we don’t.”
“I got another question,” you say. Luke raises an eyebrow. His knuckles brush yours as you sit up.
“Are you scared?”
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It’s your birthday. 
You think you’re going to die. 
Luke is kneeling over you, the palm of his hand pressed against the wet opening in your stomach where someone had caught you with a spear. The shaft of it is still sticking out of you, you think. You’re afraid to look down, afraid to see it. 
“No,” Luke gasps, “no, no, no.”
You watch as the gold fades from his eye, leaving behind the honey-dark brown you remember. His hands are slick with blood—most of it’s probably yours, it has to be yours. You’re bleeding out, after all. 
You tug on Luke’s sleeve weakly. “Hey,” you breathe. “Luke. It’s okay, it’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“No,” he says. “You’re—you’re hurt.”
“I know,” you rasp. “I know it hurts. I’m the one—” 
You break off as a cough sticks in your throat. It feels wet. Oily. Desperate to get out. You taste the blood in the back of your throat before you can even take another breath.
“—I’m the one who’s feeling it,” you finish, your voice tilting up at the end. A joke. Gods, your sense of humor is dark.
Luke laughs weakly. “Don’t talk,” he says. “You’re gonna be just fine, [Y/N], just fine.”
He meets your eyes. You see him realize it in slow motion.
Tell him. Tell him now. He’s never going to know otherwise—he could die any minute—
“Luke,” you murmur. “Luke, did you know I loved you?”
He freezes. “What?”
You cough again. Blood spills over your lips. “I loved you,” you repeat. “Since we were campers. Had the…the biggest, stupidest crush on you.”
Luke shakes his head. “No, no,” he says. “You—”
“You’re my best friend,” you continue. “Whatever feelings were there, you’re my best friend.”
Luke’s palm against your stomach is warm. It feels safe. It feels like sleeping side-by-side in the cabin, like shared meals and shared secrets. 
“Why are you telling me this?” Luke says, “why are you—why?”
You blink, just once, but it takes everything you have to open your eyes again after closing them. “Because I’m going to die,” you whisper. “And even if—even though I moved on, I wanted you to…to know.”
Luke bows over your body, pressing his forehead to yours. Tears slip from his cheeks and fall onto yours, driving little rivers through the blood smeared there.
He’s crying. Why is he—
“You idiot,” Luke says brokenly. “I loved you too. I loved you too.” He cradles your head in his lap, brushing your hair away from your face. “[Y/N], I’m so sorry.”
Your eyes slip shut.
I loved you too, Luke’s voice echoes. I loved you too.
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dapper-nahrwhale · 6 months
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What each doctor would say when asked "what are your pronouns?":
1st doctor: now what ever are you talking about my dear, oh those radioactive spiders must have gotten to you worse than we thought
2nd doctor: *shrill recorder sounds*
3rd doctor: don't talk about me
4th doctor: who could say, really, I havent the foggiest idea
5th doctor: *gazes wistfully in the distance and sighs* oh,,, you know..
6th doctor: never refer to me behind my back to anyone or I'll beat you to death with a sack of hammers alright
7th doctor: hmm...ah, it's a secret ;)
8th doctor: Who? My what? Huh?
War doctor: was/were
9th doctor: I haven't got any pronouns, on account of all my nouns being amateurs hehe
10th doctor: Hurry! Theres no time for that, everyone is going to die!
11th doctor: I wasn't listening but don't repeat the question I'm busy
12th doctor: no she took my pronouns in the divorce
13th doctor: great question! :) anyways
14th doctor: Hurry! Theres still no time for that, everyone is going to die! Again!
15th doctor: ...
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jermalove · 11 months
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video!
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daily-odile · 3 days
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twewy fit....
ref/based on:
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b0tster · 5 months
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all for the yeag
OH MY GOD???!?
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nelkcats · 1 year
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Voice From Beyond
Danny was bored, really bored inside the Realms, he was supposed to stay there because facing the reality that his "world" was no longer safe, and all his friends were fighting for his safety was too much. But after he got past the paranoia he just couldn't find more things to do to distract himself from the thought.
He had already argued with Skulker, stolen Johnny's motorcycle and even participated in a concert with Ember but nothing improved his spirits. Curiously, it was during a visit to Technus that he found the solution to his problem. It turned out that the radios could broadcast around all the Realms, it was perfect!
The halfa started a radio program. It started out as a curious thing, where he recounted his experiences as a hybrid and the culture of the Realms. In some cases he had special guests to tell of their experiences and what they had done after their death (Jane Austen and Shakespeare looked excited to be able to talk about it!)
And so his program "voice from the afterlife" was born, where he gave various advice to the dead and not so dead; the only thing that Danny didn't notice was that he was not only transmitting in the Realms, but in many universes that picked up his radio signal by a lot of luck. The DC universe got caught up in the mysterious show when it aired. Some said it was impossible, others theorized that it was real, others thought it was just fiction.
But Jason knew it wasn't just fiction, he knew that somehow Danny was real, and had the answers he needed. Jason was determined to prove it, with a little magical help of course.
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