#but my eyes have been opened
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fem shen yuan would hunch over and hold her back like a grandma and mourn about getting back pain from her huge melons while bingmei, horniest she’s ever been in her life, is staring respectfully: shizun…. those look heavy…. may i hold them for u🥰
I'll be honest big boobs are usually a big turn off for me bc I am cursed with them and I know their pain too well to find them sexy but this.. this has me reconsidering... grandma back pain bc of big boobs... I have a lot to think about ..
#i still wouldn't wish buying expensive bras on my worse enemy#but my eyes have been opened#svsss#lesbingqiu
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Just read a Tally fic. I think I get it now
#there is no one in the world they hate as much as the other but there’s something that draws them together#actually no their hatred just draws them together#what is wrong with them#read it and then got my nails done it was such an awkward experience#but my eyes have been opened#the outsiders#tim shepard#dallas winston#tally#wildtalks
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LoSH Week | 2023 Day 4 | Superfriends | Ancestor Veneration | Elsewhen | @loshappreciationweeknweek
This was originally just for the 'Superfriends' prompt, but then I realized it fit all three
Just Superboy bonding with his new family members over their complicated legacies
[Fan kids' co-parent @elasticpoodle]
#loshweek23#loshweek#superboy#connor kent#dc comics#kryl dox#tor-el#oc#next gen oc#fanchild#life after au#legion of superheroes#i feel like this barely counts as legion stuff xD#do legion oc's count???#the fan babies are from a legion au#so i FEEL like it counts#my art#can you believe I used to hate this superboy design?#I was all for the jeans and tshirt superboy#but my eyes have been opened#this one is so much more fun#god connor has thighs for DAYS#they're like bigger than tor's whole torso
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“When I first heard it, from a dog trainer who knew her behavioral science, it was a stunning moment. I remember where I was standing, what block of Brooklyn’s streets. It was like holding a piece of polished obsidian in the hand, feeling its weight and irreducibility. And its fathomless blackness. Punishment is reinforcing to the punisher. Of course. It fit the science, and it also fit the hidden memories stored in a deeply buried, rusty lockbox inside me. The people who walked down the street arbitrarily compressing their dogs’ tracheas, to which the poor beasts could only submit in uncomprehending misery; the parents who slapped their crying toddlers for the crime of being tired or hungry: These were not aberrantly malevolent villains. They were not doing what they did because they thought it was right, or even because it worked very well. They were simply caught in the same feedback loop in which all behavior is made. Their spasms of delivering small torments relieved their frustration and gave the impression of momentum toward a solution. Most potently, it immediately stopped the behavior. No matter that the effect probably won’t last: the reinforcer—the silence or the cessation of the annoyance—was exquisitely timed. Now. Boy does that feel good.”
— Melissa Holbrook Pierson, The Secret History of Kindness (2015)
#dog books#this chapter was very sad reading#when you become aware of punishment#and its use and its prevalence#it's hard not to despair#again this is why positive reinforcement feels like absolution#maybe now my eyes are open I can make up for what I did#what I did because it's what everyone does#because it's more acceptable to punish than to do anything else#I've been having so many thoughts about punishment and society and justice#this book was very validating#another great validating moment in my jumbled thoughts#was listening to the You're Wrong About episode on justice#with Amanda Knox#it helped to ease the despair a little
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hunger
#falin touden#falin#dungeon meshi#draws#shoutout to the person who mentioned a matching falin to my previous marcille drawing#u opened my eyes and this would not have been done without u
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learned something about myself lately
#i dont think its even the fact almost all my characters are somewhat beasts in one way or another. i just#really like tails and wish i had one myself#and then my oc designs are a little tame theyre mostly human shaped with animal features. but they always have tails#my eyes have recently been opened to the appeal of long whiplike unicorn tails.. so flowy and curly#something about the tuft at the end being long and swirly just does something for me..#maybe it would make sense to change auggies tail shape so it looks like a meteor. her design is mainly pink with hot pink accent#so it would be cool to use that and orange to make it look like a fire meteor.. maybe itll help complement the blue/green in her design#head full of ocs today so expect a ramble later#if i had a tail i think it would be long with a kink. so it kind of folds over once but not in a curl#when it wags its kind of a swaying motion. i have thought about this a normal amount#yapping
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I think when people dismiss wyll as being the Normal Guy companion they are overlooking a key piece of his character which is that yeah he's pretty normal in comparison to the rest of these messes but have u considered how much Effort it would take to stay that normal while putting up with mizora every day of your life. This guy isn't normal because he's boring, he's normal because he has moral fortitude rivaling that of every god. The fact that he's still so normal after what 9 years of being trapped in an insane psychosexual torment nexus is a HEROIC ACHIEVEMENT. This one will only make sense to the disco elysium fans out there but Wyll's volition stat is through the fucking roof. Nothing can shake this guy and it's not through luck or chance it is through more strength of character than any other person ever born. Wyll ravengard u will always be famous
#lich says shit#baldur's gate 3#bg3#wyll ravengard#bg3 wyll#baldurs gate 3#I used to be a true wyll neutral. didnt hate him didnt like him. I thought he was boring#but my eyes have been opened. Do You Know How Hard It Would Be To Remain Boring In His Situation. its on purpose. he's like this on purpose#plus hes a gentleman and it's delightful but thats not even the point
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Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!
For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.
It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.
But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly.
His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color.
He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.
And then it went nearly colorless.
Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating.
Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate.
Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.
A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever.
“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy.
Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents.
“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.
The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it.
Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence.
“Morning,” Duke offers.
“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”
“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”
“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”
Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”
“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”
Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”
“I’ll drive, too.”
“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”
Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”
“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”
“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”
Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”
Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door.
The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out.
The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once.
Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne���. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words.
“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”
“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”
“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”
The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left.
“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze.
It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.
Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.
He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo.
He gets the Vietnamese Plate.
Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.”
The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles.
Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”
“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”
As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”
She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen.
Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders.
Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.
But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.
The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that.
She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet.
As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day.
“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”
“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”
“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”
Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security.
He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction.
As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage.
Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”
“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office.
“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”
“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”
“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.
Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time.
Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives.
“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.
Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”
“Oh, yikes.”
“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”
“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.
He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed.
“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”
Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”
“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”
“What does this do?”
“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”
“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises.
Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”
She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye.
By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.
Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.
“Duke?”
It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest.
It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die.
This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it.
He won’t let anyone take it from him.
“Duke. Give that to me.”
He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary.
“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat.
Bruce reaches a hand out.
He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him.
“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.
“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”
“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”
Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.
Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.
Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away.
The orb in his hand moves.
Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.
It’s his soulmark.
Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it.
One moment, the orb was still.
The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap.
Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid.
“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot.
“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face.
“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.
“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke.
“Are you alright?”
Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”
Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises.
If anyone can, it’s Batman.
If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends.
Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.
#ghostlights#dc x dp#dp x dc#dcxdp#dpxdc#prompt fill#my writing#i dont really know much abt jld so they are not really in here#just duke trying to live his life and have a nice day with bruce#when his soul mate gets thrown at him in the form of an ORB#(ghost core but they dont know that yet)#dannys gonna have to answer so many questions once hes awake bc not many know abt realms beings#its gonna be rough for him bc he's been asleep for 2 years in his core bc he was never safe enough to recover#until duke gave him a boost (plus the power of soulmates really helped him) and he woke up#in a cave with his soulmate and a whole crew of superheroes#what a thing to open ur eyes to. rip danny lol#thanks for the prompt!
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I'm here to bring silly visuals to just think of; Vovó Bucchi carrying toddler Ruggie in her mouth like some animals carry their young AND baby Ruggie just being smol
In the daytime, I'm Vovó Bucchi. Just a normal girl with a normal life~
#twst#twisted wonderland#ask#anon you opened my eyes#I DRAWED THIS AT THE SPEED OF LIGHT AAAAA#I should have been asleep by now but I couldn't miss the opportunity#vovó bucchi#grandma bucchi#ruggie bucchi#twst ruggie#twst fanart#twisted wonderland fanart#small ruggie#baby ruggie bucchi#anon thank you for the silly visuals
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DUNMESHI CHAPTER 84 MANGA SPOILERS !!!!
why is he using the kabru charm on laios
#dungeon meshi#dunmeshi#delicious in dungeon#chapter 84#dungeon meshi spoilers#delicious in dungeon spoilers#labru#kabru of utaya#laios touden#kabru#laios x kabru#manga spoilers#dunmeshi spoilers#i used to be a labru denier but my eyes have been opened#these chapters... wow........#i miss farcille vv much tho... pls give them some screentime i beg....
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It’s wars angst hour boys.
#legend of zelda#linked universe#funny#silly#lol idk what else to put here#lu warriors#lu warriors angst#thibking abt all the possible self esteem issues this boy could have#My eyes have been opened to villain wars#And therefor yours as well dear reader >:)#Did someone notice that parallels between the two. Please tell me someone did#Also yes that round thing he’s holding in the first panel is infact a mirror and not a swirly thingy I just can’t draw
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a few sketches of my favorite characters<3
i've been trying to capture their likeness with various degrees of success:) and i just realized how much rooster really looks like goose
#i just think they're neat!#i drew jake sleeping and bradley looking at him separately but they look in love anyway#that's hilarious#i don't draw for days then a demon possessed me and i ended up with these#my eyes have been open to glen powell and miles teller's attactiveness#pete maverick mitchell#top gun#top gun maverick#hangster#my art#bradley rooster bradshaw#jake hangman seresin#natasha phoenix trace#there's something about men in uniform that makes me...
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one more doodle for today
#i saw one (1) post about prismo doing this whenever he got flustered and my eyes have been opened#so i say he does this whenever he gets overwhelmed#id in alt text#prismo the wishmaster#scarab the god auditor#fionna and cake#fionna and cake spoilers#adventure time#definitely art#prohibitedwish
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Me, a monsterfucker who wants chubby yan representation: :(
(Like they have love handles to hold to)
I think Yan!Slime Monster and Yan!Bear Hybrid could be placed as opposites on a chubby scale. Soft and cuddly, to bulky and strong.
In terms of visuals, I'd say this is probably my first time doodling on the chubbier side, simply because I use muscles as anatomical reference and don't have any experience otherwise. This was a lot of fun, I thank you for bringing it up!
#doodle#my eyes have been opened#monster boyfriend#yandere bear hybrid#slime monster#monster fucker#terato
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"fiddleford can't be queer! he's from tennessee and it's the 70s!" the 70s, huh. the 70s that were the golden days of the gay cowboy magazine? those 70s?
#he may have also had a wife and child but that's unrelated#bisexuals exist people#open your eyes to fiddleford mcgucket gay leather cowboy guy who smokes mad weed and listens to fleetwood mac and the beatles#this has been my psa#fiddauthor#fiddleford mcgucket#gravity falls
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Crowned Prince Shouto who is so very much in love with you, even if it did take a while to come around after the arranged marriage occurred.
Crowned Prince Shouto whose brow creases and eyes twitch every time people in high court mock how plain you are under hushed breaths.
Crowned Prince Shouto who gets absolutely sloshed at a royal banquet to try and drown his anger when he hears a rumor going around that his marriage is unconsummated due to finding you so repulsive before storming off to find you.
Royal Advisor Izuku who rushes off to try and follow, only to hear a shriek coming from your room. When scrambling to investigate if you're okay he finds his master on his knees absolutely devouring your cunt while your receiving chamber door remains open a crack.
#and I mean the man would go at it till your crying out his name#cause he doesn't give two fucks about what it means to his decorum or repuatation#he's gotta prove a point to his people that he's lucky to have you every single day and night!#and Izuku understands the power play going on here#knows shouto ain't dumb and purposefully left that door open and purposefully took you in your receiving chamber instead of your bedroom#where there would be more privacy#the only thing now is#does Izuku stay and watch? or does he scamper away and try and forget how your face looked contorted in pleasure?#all he knows is he won't be able to meet you eye for a long while#and all I know is that those rumors stop after that night for SURE#i'm being bold on the dash today#thought has been running rampant in my mind for HOURS#so here we are#🔮.the peddler mumbles#shouto todoroki#shouto x reader#bnha shouto#shouto smut
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