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@hot-rod-a-mess

V : 28 : She/her :
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nexusconjunx

*dusting off this terrible beefcake* - hey anyone into the antithesis of the gentle giant? Becos this dude is 18 hands at the withers and out for blood!

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I upgraded my centaur boy Vali's design and I like him significantly more now

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snejkha

Vesper the star shepard// (they/she) 

they are a centaur firbolg mix because I have a problem hh.. and well theres never enough firbolgs i’d say hhh

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shirecorn
Anonymous asked:

centuar are so fucking weird man, I want an oc but they're so goofy looking, how do they relax???

Centaur beds are actually much simpler than you think they are. Horse joints can lock upright for sleeping, while the humanoid body needs to recline.

The horse body is built to sleep standing up or laying on the hard ground, so there's no need to find fancy mattresses for cushioning the whole creature.

Because centaurs are so much less common than humans, many make use of human bedding and just adjust the height to suit their needs. But there are shops that manufacture or modify mattresses more ergonomically designed to fit centaur needs.

It's also possible for centaurs, especially foals, to sleep on the ground or with a simple beanbag to prop them up.

The worst complication of centaur sleeping habits is possible backaches from using a bed at the wrong height. Massages can help relieve symptoms but it's really best to adjust the object you use as a bed to match the 90 degree height of your reclining body.

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spacedewey

I think the most damage this site has done to me is making me think "It's fucken wimdy" when it is, in fact, fucken wimdy outside.

I taught one of my ranching buddies “it fucken wimdy” and now he says it around his older more established ranching buddies

The exhilaration I get- upon hearing an old rancher (I’ve never met before) in cowboy boots and a cowboy hat while on a horse, grimly saying “it fucken wimdy” in a thick west Texas accent as he looks down upon his cows- is incalculable

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Usually it's women who buy from the feather shop, sometimes accompanied by tolerant men schlepping backpacks. But every so often a guy comes in, usually to buy a present, and as someone who's never really experienced guys shopping before, their efficiency in impressive. Guy comes in, I'll take that one, guy goes out.

The other day we had this massive bearded dude, 6'3 linebacker style, walk right in and declare in a gruff baritone "My fairy wings didn't arrive in time. I need some backup wings." We offered a massive pair of feathered green wings; he tried them on (tiny) and said "A little high in the back, but I'll take 'em." On his way out, by way of clarification, he said "I'm Tankerbelle."

I love the goths, I love the middle-aged street-clothes ladies trying something different, I LOVE the little kids, but Tankerbelle will always hold a special place in my heart.

(I spotted him a few weeks later and got the pic; pleased to see he was still rocking our wings rather than what he'd ordered earlier!)

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