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#why are the titles in English
hedgehog-moss · 8 months
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me sending yet another email to a French public service to ask them why they use so many gratuitous English words in a service that's supposed to be non-discriminatory and accessible to everyone in the country
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razzmothazz · 1 month
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whats your gender but its just a few of my fav pjsk comm songs [in no particular order]
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orphetoon · 4 months
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just saw someone on twitter try to claim that people using “dungeon meshi” as the title instead of “delicious in dungeon” were a bunch of gate keeping manga fans who hate that its getting popular when like. its clearly bc delicious in dungeon is kind of a mouthful
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heymeowmao · 1 month
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珠帘玉幕 | The Legend of Jewelry/The Story of Pearl Girl - Filming Wrap Trailer
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potahun · 6 months
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jiao liqiao really looked at the gayest man in all of the jianghu, pointed at him and said 'that one. that's the one i want. that's the man im going to obsess over'
m'lady. please
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qwuilleran · 2 days
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Is It Wrong To Pick Up Food In A Dungeon?
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mx-princey · 1 year
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Some average Villager mottos:
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Katt's Japanese Motto:
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Katt's English Motto:
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KATT MY GIRL
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WHAT HAPPENED??
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blueskittlesart · 11 months
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Question bc i dont have the game yet, is 'Tears' meant to be crying tears or like ripped tears? I remember that being a huge debate when the title was revealed.
tears as in crying tears, and i still think that debate was the stupidest shit zelda fans have ever done because it was so easily cleared up by looking at the japanese title of the game
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guideaus · 1 month
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im obsessed with the one relevant boy in The Guy She Was Interested in Wasn't a Guy at All who is always fighting to be included in this story
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soupy-sez · 8 months
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BEAUTY AND THE DEVIL [La Beauté du diable] (1950) dir. René Clair
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tuktev · 3 months
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op weg naar de appie
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takethebodymarc · 27 days
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excuse me yt recommendations why are you trying to make me cry
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(a new cute french egg found in qsmp)
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vote yes if you have finished the entire book.
vote no if you have not finished the entire book.
(faq · submit a book)
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valtiantian · 10 months
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Shrike
However it happened, he's not sure, but Lan Wangji finds himself laying on the ground and tainting the soil with blood. A certain ghost finds his way to him.
CW: death
The concept of time is a faraway thing when one is close to death. Lan Wangji lays on the ground, cold and damp, and stares at the starry night above him. Ignores the pain coursing through his body. He waits, knowing that death is not going to bring him closer to Wei Ying, but not strong enough to fight it and live.
He can feel the mud beneath his palms, sticky from all the blood; the metallic scent fills his nose until it's all he can smell. He doesn't really remember what happened, he assumes a night hunt gone wrong. It feels unlikely, yet it's true. Even Hanguang-Jun is not immortal, just like Wei Ying wasn't.
It's getting colder now. Either that or he's the one getting colder. He shivers, and tries to listen to the songs of the birds, the owls that croon to each other, but everything sounds muffled. He wonders how long it would take for the soil to become one with his skin, if maybe flowers will grow over this particular patch of dirt, or if it'll be tainted by his decaying skin and bones forever.
His heart is heavy, yet he feels like he's floating, barely even touching the ground. The sounds around him distort, until the bird songs sound like whistles from the wind that struggle to even reach his ears. There are other sounds fighting for his attention, yet he can't concentrate on any of them.
The only clear sound is the beating of his heart, heavy and loud, with the weight of his fleeting life. All other sounds are drowned out by the ringing of his ears, the blood flowing through and out of his body. He thinks he can hear whimpering from far away, but it is unimportant now. He can't move, no matter how much he tries. And he tries, for a-yuan, for his brother, for his uncle. For Wei Ying; for there to be at least one person that thinks of his memory lovingly instead of with disdain. He fails.
So he just looks up at the moon, bright and mighty, the only source of light he has. He's vaguely aware of a figure that approaches, walking through the darkness as though gliding. He doesn't truly realize until the black figure covers the light, and suddenly he can see; dark long hair, carefully wrapped in a bright red ribbon, flowing down until it almost touches his chest. He can't help the gasp that escapes him, or the desperation that grabs hold of him. His ribbon is so close he could touch it with his fingertip, if he were to have enough strength. He tries to do just that, with a shaking hand that wavers before it even reaches it, and ultimately falls back down.
makes him move erratically, struggling against the pain that covers his body. He tries to grab the ribbon, so close to him, but his arm fails him, falling back down to him as it trembles and he shivers from the cold.
He recognizes him, how could he not. He's scared he's hallucinating, but when he's in front of him, how could he bring himself to care. The dreams of Wei Ying are still better than not having him at all. He tries to call out to him, but his voice is ragged and tired, more a wheeze than a word.
All sounds have ceased. Maybe it's his body that's failing him, maybe he's searching for one specific voice, everything else so unimportant to his senses he can't even hear anything.
And he heard him, clear as a songbird.
"Lan Zhan," he says, and it sounds so close he could drown in it. He will, if he doesn't catch his breath soon. He can hear his heartbeat again, louder and louder; a drum that takes him closer to death. He understands, in a far away manner, that he's losing blood faster.
He inhales, urgently. His breath rattles, a painful sound, wet with blood. He coughs, and tries to say his name again. It hurts, but he tries, panicking while knowing it will do no good now.
"Wei Ying-" he manages, voice raspy and guttural, blood flowing down his lips as he coughs, and he's left breathless again. He's shaking, and he sees his chest going up and down, faster and faster. His arm moves almost unconsciously, and so fast, to take hold of that red ribbon. He succeeds this time, and it shakes with the exertion, before falling down; that incredible surge of strength completely gone. He can only hold the ribbon tighter, taking it down with him until it lands on his fluttering chest.
Wei Ying's hair falls down in waves, unraveling fast until it covers them both. There is no light that reaches his eyes, only Wei Ying's face, wide eyes and trembling lips. He wants to kiss him so much. If he could, maybe he would try; just to know what it's like before he never sees him again.
He cries, because he doesn't know what else to do. The tears cloud all his surroundings, until all he knows is that face, staring back at him at last (at last, too late). He's weeping with a voice that barely carries itself, sounds that are painful to the ear. He holds that ribbon close and feels the soft touch of a hand, like a breeze caressing his face. Going from his eyebrows to the tip of his nose, until the pad of his fingers reach his lips, and he opens his mouth to try and kiss them.
He feels him come closer, feels him kiss his forehead, gently. He's so gentle now, now that Lan Wangji's falling apart, trying to dry his tears with his hands, unable to even do that. He wants him now, wants him desperately, and he cries for how far they still are, even while being so close.
Wei Ying is above him, crooning softly. A song he knows so we'll. He wonders if Wei Ying even remembers where he heard it, if it matters at this point. "It's alright Lan Zhan, it's all well," he mutters. Even when his own eyes are wet with tears that refuse to fall, he doesn't falter his comfort.
"I love you," falls out from his lips. A plea, a mercy. It comes out ragged and wrong, but it rings true all the same. He wishes he had been able to say it sooner, before everything has gone wrong, before the chance was taken away. Now he's here, saying it to a ghost, one that has come to comfort him. He doesn't even know if he's real. But he has to say it, before he takes it to his grave.
"Shh, it's ok Lan Zhan," Wei Ying says, laying their foreheads together, trying to caress his cheek. It's all in vain; the only thing he can feel is a slight breeze, colder than his own dying skin. It hurts, it hurts that now the only trace of Wei Ying he can feel is a cutting cruel cold. "I know, i know," he keeps saying, crying out to him like that will make him feel him more, keep him tethered. Finally his tears fall, and they still feel so cold.
"Wei Ying," he weeps, like a child calling for his mother, holding the ribbon close with all the strength he has. He wants to close his eyes, but he has to see Wei Ying; he's desperate to keep him close, in the limited time they have.
"Lan Zhan," he pauses, but the tears continue to fall. He's struggling to say it, face twisted in agony, the tears falling near constantly. He manages, with a frail, shaking voice, "I wish I could have been buried with you," and Wei Ying breaks down too, closing his eyes against the onslaught of pain, crying out, choking on the breath he doesn't need. "I'm sorry Lan Zhan, so sorry. I didn't know," Lan Wangji can barely see him, everything's so blurry now; he doesn't truly know from what. He tries to comfort him, but can't move at all. He can only hum back gently the song from before, taking pauses every time his breath hitches, hoping it doesn't sound as painful as it feels.
If they had been buried together, maybe they would see each other again. Lan Wangji thinks, desperately, that maybe he would have liked to die with Wei Ying. That maybe his bones would have been unearthed decades later, holding the person most precious to him. They could have died together, hand in hand. If only he hadn't been a coward.
He sobs at that thought, humming completely forgotten under the pressure of his aching heart. He feels his breath slow, and he looks at Wei Ying's eyes, scared and alone, save for a ghost that has followed him home. Wei Ying understands, and starts a stream of gentle nothings, trying so hard to comfort him. He combs through his hair, as futile as it is; the gentle wind of his hand holds him together.
"It's alright now, Lan Zhan," he whispers, pained and clogged with tears. He touches his cheeks and keeps his hands there, as Lan Wangji slowly feels himself lose his last amounts of strength. He breathes out, trying to call out to him one last time.
He can't, but Wei Ying still understands. He simply says, "You can rest, Lan Zhan," and kisses his forehead. Wei Ying is smiling faintly, eyes glistening. He manages to smile back to him, however small, before death takes hold of him, Wei Ying's face his last memory.
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luthienmpl · 4 months
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You know what? It's not Yakuza but the chaotic gay disaster delinquent that is Kaneda Toki scratches a very similar itch so I'll happily take this offering.
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icefang111 · 4 months
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I went to watch The Boy and the Heron and look.... can someone explain to me what they got out of this movie?
Cause far as I can see it's just a bad movie and I'd like to at least consider a different perspective before cementing that opinion, but no one online will actually Say what it's about (or what they think it's about) or what about it works for them, just that it does. It's a bit maddening.
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