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#i haven't stopped thinking about this
marcirose · 1 year
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Nobody understands Kingdom Hearts that well cause everybody compares it to shonen anime when it's actually a magical girl anime because it has:
-A protagonist who is an ordinary lad who got given a special power that could save the universe
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Teammates that the protagonist can lean on and who help the protagonist with said special power
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A love interest heavily involved in the plot that both motivates the protagonist and is motivated by the protagonist
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A monster of the week format that has its own standalone conflict that eventually leads to the next major plot point in the story
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Overarching themes about love and friendships and connections and identity
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prncewilhelm · 1 year
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rewatching 2x01 and realising that they literally foreshadowed alexander (and august) beating wille and simon’s plan to go to the police from the very beginning. he checkmates him – a move in which leaves the player’s king threatened and without means to escape. this show is insane. 
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bo sinclair saying 'shh, it's okay' might be the sexiest thing i have ever heard
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groove-stick · 7 months
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Based on @stealingpotatoes sending me this, killing me instantly
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bookwyrminspiration · 2 years
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Today I witnessed the most endearing thing practically ever hold on I gotta tell you.
Background: my city's library system has a summer reading program, and I'm one of the volunteers to help run it at my local branch. Today I had a shift that I'd taken to fill the sign-up desk for the last few hours of the day because no one else was covering them, so I show up ready to be alone for the next three hours and...there's someone already sitting behind the desk, the prior two volunteers very quickly explaining how things work and how to sign people up. I have never seen this person before, and she seems overwhelmed by information and is young, and looks a little nervous when she sees me standing there as the prior two volunteers leave, and I'm immediately overcome with such intense big sister energy like oh man I gotta look out for this kid, so I explain that I'm also a volunteer and join her behind the desk and she looks relieved and warms up and we chat for a moment
Now we're behind the desk like normal and so her mom walks up, introduces herself and asks the girl if she's all situated and ready, because this girl wasn't at the orientation and has just showed up without any of the hour of prep all the other volunteers received.
The girl says yes, so her mom very excitedly goes over to get her little brother, whose like 8, and brings him over, this way she can specifically sign up her little brother and mom as the first people she helps. She explained the program, turning to me for help once to make sure she got it right, and got her family signed up. It was so adorable I can't even explain it
And then the mom started to walk away to hang out in the library before turning back around to say "wait! I need to get a picture of [name's] first day!] and pulls out a camera, taking a step back so she could take a picture of the two of us (I gave my permission to be in the photo) for this girl's first day volunteering at the library
So now she's behind the desk, has had a practice run, and I'm there to help if she forgets anything and we're volunteering as normal. One of the things the staff does for us is provide a sketchbook and crayons (idk why crayons) to pass the time if we didn't bring anything or don't feel like reading at the moment, so the girl starts to mess around with the sketchbook and I'm reading next to her until I notice out of the corner of my eye, she’s written my name on the page.
My hair is dyed bright red, so when her little brother was trying to guess how many pom poms are in the guessing jar, the mom had asked me how I dyed it (Arctic Fox) and so under my name the girl had made a note of the brand, and I'm like oh cool! that way you can take that page of the sketchbook with you and won't forget! and then because I happened to be paying a little closer attention, I saw when she turned the page this incomplete drawing of a face
as an artist myself I know it's uncomfortable to have someone watching you so I tried to focus on other things, but the sketchbook is out on the table so I see it from time to time when I look up, and I notice a few minutes later...that she's drawing me! She's got the skin tone and my black mask, and then she starts to add my makeup and earrings and that bright red hair I mentioned before. And I'm just sitting here like oh fuck kid I would die for you. She was so sweet she was complaining about the crayons and how she messed up the ears so she turned them into elf ears and once she knew I'd realized she was drawing me she kept turning to look at me like "hmm let me see" to use my real life face as a reference. Like she'd just met me and thought my hair and makeup was cool so she started drawing me
She was only there for an hour, and I helped her mom get everything sorted out to sign up for volunteering hours because the girl is young enough that the normal system doesn't really work for her and she wasn't at the orientation, and her mom was so thankful for me just being there so the girl wasn't at the table all on her own the very first time with such a quick intro from the previous volunteers. Instead she got to see me sign people up and hear the information repeated over and over and do it herself with someone to fall back on in case she forgot something
and she was so anxious about leaving, because it was just going to be me and she thought she had to wait for someone else to get there so I wouldn't be alone and I was just there like honey I didn't even think you were going to be here don't you worry about it at all, I can take care of the desk on my own and then I watched her take another 15 minutes walking around the library before checking out like 10 books and I had this moment of "I used to be you." Because that's what I did at her age in the library.
and I might have to specifically sign up for an hour at the desk where she's signed up just because she was so sweet and nice to be around and I wanna make sure she's doing alright at the desk like aurhgu
another notable instance was when this person about my age walked up to the desk and we simultaneously complemented each others hair, like just "I love your hair" at the exact same time, and then we both complemented each other's makeup
anyway my point is people are incredible and kind and the world deserves kindness and also everyone should go to the library and pick up a book
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hismentor · 2 years
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"Pissing all on your own handsome?" - Macaque /🐥 I'msorry
        HGJDFLHGLDFHGLJ // @diisccvery​​​
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     ❝ LEAVE ME ALONE ?!?!?!?! ❞
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inkskinned · 7 months
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the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.
three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.
two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.
their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.
one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.
i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.
i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.
and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?
you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.
a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.
someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.
#writeblr#warm up#this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru#but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist#ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school.#like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it.#was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes.#but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create''#when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work#part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just#like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent.#speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r#ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week#this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice.#''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism#imagine if we said that about literally any other profession.#''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt?#u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky''#we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY#''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''
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captainkirkk · 1 year
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Concept: Fire Lords traditionally dress like the stages of the sun to match their reign.
When Zuko is first crowned, he dresses in the colours of dawn. Bright yellows and pinks and even purples. He starts to wear more traditional crimson-and-gold robes after a few years, the colours of midday when Agni is at his strongest. And towards the end of his reign, when he's getting ready to pass the crown onto Izumi, he starts dressing like the setting sun.
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rosamndpike · 2 months
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THE LORD OF THE RINGS: THE RETURN OF THE KING (2003) dir. Peter Jackson
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merrigel · 3 months
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I want it back = I drag its dead weight forward
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metatronhateblog · 3 months
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Can't help but sometimes sit here and think about the rainbow above Aziraphale in the Job episode. What rainbow you might ask? This rainbow silly!
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What's that you say? You don't see anything? Computer, enhance.
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Still not seeing it? Let me adjust the contrast and saturation here a minute...
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There it is. That little rainbow above our angel.
I spend an unnecessary amount of time thinking about him and his rainbow
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wasyago · 11 months
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the brainrot won
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thenighttrain · 4 months
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seeing the pjo characters being played by actors who are kids makes everything hits different. like the minotaur scene hits so hard bc that's LITERALLY a child watching his mother die. it makes the adaptation feel much more genuine, i don't understand why they dont do this all the time!!
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robert-deniro · 7 months
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Eyes that light up, eyes look through you Cover up the blank spots, hit me on the head ah ooh
STOP MAKING SENSE
1984, dir. Jonathan Demme
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 7 months
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I take back my former Luo Binghe design. Big Buff Binghe is too standard. It's expected. The sillier angle to take is: manifesting his small, needy dog energy into physical form.
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faiell · 21 days
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inspired by a scene from 9 1/2 days by @magpiefngrl
‘Harry?’ Urgent, clipped vowels, insistent at his ear. A cool hand shook Harry's shoulder, hot breath played on his cheek, and the smell of lavender tickled his nose. Without thinking, Harry raised his head and pressed his face at the source of the lavender smell, inhaling deeply. Dawn’s fabric softener brought him slowly back to himself. He opened his eyes to see he had his nose buried in Draco’s shoulder.
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