them >>>>
look I had every intention of drawing a shirt on Link but a) I couldn't decide what to draw b) seemed like a good opportunity to show some battle scars and c) why miss the chance to make it that teensy bit spicier? 👀
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“If I have to stick with someone… I-“
AND YOU WILL. YOU WILL STICK WITH HER. THROUGH MULTIPLE QUESTS, A WAR, LITERAL TARTARUS, AND THEN ANOTHER FUCKING WAR
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I just think that Aloy and Seyka really do deserve to take their hair down and relax in soft clothes.
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If I had a cent for every time there was a toxic yaoi ship between a black haired antihero with villainous tendencies and a brown haired seemingly herolike boy who secretly turns out to be horrendously evil, plus ends with one of them dying, I’d have two cents. (Three if I watched Death Note, which I haven’t.)
so that’s a bit weird, huh
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Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magica: Walpurgis no Kaiten (2024)
Tomoe Mami → Sakura Kyoko → Miki Sayaka
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It’s the 2nd birthday of Our Flag Means Death, and it’s fair to say I’m happy this pirate programme exists. It’s so rare that something comes along that hits my special interests so well while also making me feel so seen, all the while with such warmth and kindness and genuine hilarity and heart. So I decided to send these sweet boyfriends on a little celebratory pastel watercolour picnic on the beach.
Happy birthday, you absolute treasures!
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what in the gay coming of age movie poster is this
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bestie I had things to do today. now I'm just thinking of feeding those big mfs with the full intention of bulking them up. with my cooking/baking skills it would not take long. (Source: friends with strongman types and do this for them willingly)
GOD them coming to you after their workout still dripping in sweat and telling you how good the place smells. Sitting together at the table and demolishing the whole spread you put out, moaning around their forks and lavishing you with praise. Watching them sink back into their seats with clean plates and hands resting over distended stomachs, wide smiles on their sleepy faces.
It's flattering how much they love your cooking. The praise, the adoration, the way they get a little sheepish asking if there's enough for second. The answer is always yes, you take good care to make enough to feed your personal army, but desert comes before seconds. It's tradition, and the cheesecake you'd made is sitting pretty in the fridge just for them.
Second tradition is that they help you clean, which is all the motivation you need to keep up this labor of love (as if the love wasn't enough). And it's not that your kitchen is the size of a broom closet or anything, but with all of them crammed in that space you're better off sitting back and admiring them work. Washing the dishes, wiping the counters, sweeping the floor. They brush and bump against each other the whole time, the ensuing and inevitable shoving match usually leading them to your couch, where they once again make the place look like a doll house.
They spread out on it like oversized dogs, leaving just enough room for you to squeeze in between. Everyone shuffles around until you're perfectly surrounded, keeping at least one hand on you at all times. Rubbing your feet, massaging your hand, stroking over your back until the combination of the heat, your full stomach and the soothing touches puts you to sleep. The hum of their quiet talking mistaken for the TV nobody bothered to turn on.
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I'd like to say that I'm coming back to my eruri era...... But that's not true..... im always in my eruri era
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