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#i luv everything about them
marymekpop · 1 year
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I like you. I tried denying it and I tried to rationalize it, but nothing worked. It’s true. I like you.
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softboiled-egg · 3 months
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They’re a bit worried
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Sorry to be a hater but this is how I’ve been feeling recently
#listen.#I love fluff#fluff is great#but does EVERY relationship have to be fluff and only fluff#I’ve noticed in the past that fandoms fandoms tend to#like#stray away from any conflict between characters they ship that doesn’t end in ‘omg you were right and I was so wrong 🥺’#‘no I was wrong and I’m so sorry 😖😖😖’#‘okay let’s agree to never fight again and be healthy and happy forever 🥹’#and I’m more into complex not quite a perfect fit relationships right now#ones where they struggle to stay together#or where they both like each other but don’t get together for reasons OTHER than miscommunication#ones where they know they love each other but there’s obstacles#or where they’re both abusive shits#or where they’re both shitty people and they fit like a glove#I want more than just ‘luv you bby’ ‘awww me too’ ‘let’s go pet puppies together’#like sometimes I find two characters and I’m like ‘YES! something refreshing! let me find more content’#only to find all the fandom flanderized the characters#especially with the more toxic ones#it’s like. they’re shitty people but the fandom can’t explore that so they just remove everything that made them interesting#and its like ‘…why are you using *these* characters to do this?’#there’s every other character in the world to be sweet and cutesy#I’m hyperfixate on *this* dynamic#not the same dynamic every other relationship before it had#it’s like copy paste characterization regardless of if it makes sense#anyway#sorry for being a bitch about this but whatever :/#personal post
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rewritingcanon · 15 days
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andromeda tonks and ted tonks and nymphadora tonks and druella black are the only ones who can even come close to an eeato au with evelyn and waymond and joy and gong gong
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thisismeracing · 9 months
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I’m a bit caught up with my thesis and I’ve been having a hard time getting enough rest thats why Im a bit less active in here. I know I gotta work on the blurb night requests and you can count on me to deliver those but I’ll need some extra time, sorry guys 🥺✨💫
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derichelieu · 2 months
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@hallusionima tagged me to post my current top 5 songs on spotify (or wherever)
so:
tagging: @bpdamandayoung, @not-feuilly, @whisperofthewaves, @nightmasc, @romantichore
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thevalicemultiverse · 9 months
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OOC: Sorry For The Surprise Disappearance
Basically, what happened is that this blog is one of the ones that got the new "Twitter-fied" dash update, and I dislike the look of it enough that I basically ran away from it for a few days (after letting tumblr know that I thought it was "ew") while I searched for a better way to have both this blog and my other tumblr, Victor Luvs Alice, open at the same time than using a "private browsing" window for this blog that doesn't have any of my browser extensions. (Yes, this is something you can do with Firefox -- it worked until tumblr changed the dash!) I think I'm just gonna have to suck it up and start logging in and out between tumblrs normally, as I definitely need XKit Rewritten to deal with this, so hopefully I shall be back to normal tomorrow! I apologize for not making a post like this earlier to explain things, and if I worried people with my absence. It was nothing anyone did, just tumblr making bad design choices. *sigh*
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I was watching some FMA live action clips because I can't find the second movie yet (as one does) and Ling literally slid into a room.
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Like I shit you not, this is Something That Happened and somehow it's the most FMA-accurate thing to happen thus far.
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wynterlanding · 10 months
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official pair tag dump – romantic + platonic
#after all these years we’re still the same! landon x abel#after all you’re my wonderwall! landon x Eloise#all our times have come! landon x nancy#all we ever wanted was everything! landon x kennedy#and now we’re hanging on by a heartbeat! landon x kat#brothers of the moon! saint x landon#don’t try to kill me with your love! landon x suvi#dying like a shooting star in the valley! landon x lily#if the heavens ever did speak shes the last true mouth piece! landon x alice ! au#lets give them something to talk about! landon x genevieve#lights. camera. romance! landon x aubrey#midnight angel won’t you say you will! landon x sienna#one smile on ur face was all it took to change my fortune! landon x rhea#our sweet complication! landon x ava#the passion of lovers is for death! landon x whitney#pride and prejudice! landon x elijah#the princess and the pauper! landon x rockelle#put on your gucci slides star boi! landon x marius#puttin a spell on reality television! landon x Sabrina#saw ur eyes for a little while i was fallin in luv! landon x stella#she’s got the magic around my soul! landon x anya#slithered here from eden just to sit outside your door! landon x frankie#then we dance on the h of the hollywood sign! landon x alice#truly! madly! deeply! landon x maddy#want a piece of u tear my heart in 2! landon x rebecca#wanted to give u everything but i still stand in awe of superficial things! landon x suvi ! au#what a plot twist we are! landon x samantha#when the lights go down won’t you want to be with me! landon x una#wouldn’t it be nice if we could! landon x ruby#you call me lavender you call me sunshine! landon x darcy
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marymekpop · 5 months
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⟢ highlight of the hour: my dearest [21/21] ⟣
before and after
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anurarana · 1 year
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What do you mean when you refer to some of your characters as prequel?
HI OK SO my story (that still has no name, sorry, I know that kinda makes it confusing when I talk about it) is split up into 2 distinctive parts: the Main Story and the Prequel. The main story follows a trio of kids (renée, deliah, and matiás) as they travel across the continent and make allies and over throw the government and defeat the big evil yadda yadda it's a k-12 teen fantasy story yknow the drill lmao. The Prequel, however, follows mainly leon and kana, two mentor figures to the trio, and how they came to act the way they do and know the things they do, it's main function is to provide exposition and further background that the trio really have no business ever knowing. Another major element is that the 2 parts have very different tones. The underlying theme of the main story will always be Hope. To have hope and search for love and friendship and keep going when things seem utterly bleak. But for the prequel, it's a tragedy. There is no happy ending, and you know that from the start. You meet characters that feel important, but you have never seen before, characters that you know but can't recognize anymore. The main story starts with the world completely broken, and the prequel shows you how it got to that point
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jaxyscreams · 1 year
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The autistic joy of loving someone who is also autistic who u can spend time with in autistic ways and show joy in autistic ways that they just understand is autistic joy
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cyancherub · 2 years
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some of the tags on that ‘i cant fathom going on tinder’ post are annoying the absolute shit out of me
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imwritesometimes · 2 years
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woman cannot write no matter how long she rotates blorbos. 282 notebook pages ruined, 7829 pencils snapped
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idkyyyet · 11 months
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bro i luv spider-punk but i specifically wanna talk about his hair
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[image description: a gif from Across the Spider-verse of Hobie, without his mask, saying: "I was this cool the whole time." End image description]
he. has. wicks!!!
the origin of wick dreadlocks is florida usa, and are named due to the resemblance to a "candle wick" because of how they stick straight up and/or out!
now, wicks have a bad reputation even within the loc community.
its already known that like if you got dreads, generally, ppl think u are unkempt, and dirty, and things of that nature, but there is even more discrimination against wicks its unreal. like legit yall i cant even begin to explain the nasty shit ppl say about them because i will be sad.
its kinda just considered the "crazy Florida man hairstyle". and a lot of the hate is due to the fact that wicks, appear "unkempt" or things of that nature
there has been a lot of texturism in the loc community which has brought with it the idea that dreads need to be retwisted to be "properly" taken care of, and need to be flat on your head and all these other things that often bring with it the need to hide your natural hair. i get unsolicited advice on my hair all the time telling me "i need a retwist" because of the belief that black hair needs to be all tidy and stuff to be respected.
but the thing is, dreads aren't meant to be all neat and tidy all the time y'know. its black hair in one of its most natural forms. and who better to showcase that than hobie brown, spider punk?
wicks kinda go against everything that dreads are "supposed" to be and "supposed" to look like.
i just love everything about this movie but i especially wanted to like talk about this hair choice. hair most def has meaning, especially black hair, so i think this was a really cool and fitting design choice for his character and everything he represents.
(i did my best to like articulate my thoughts but hopefully this makes at least a bit a sense)
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ervotica · 5 months
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“C'mere, sweetheart-“ & “Breathe, just breathe-" with finnick please 🤍
a life of our own
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pairing: finnick odair x reader
summary: finnick helps you find yourself again when you’re rescued from the capitol. you’re desperate to trust him again.
warnings: hurt/comfort, a lil fluff, a lil angst, r was tortured and brainwashed in the capitol after catching fire (i got sooo carried away with this but i luv it! hope you enjoy, please remember to like/comment + reblog!)
hunger games masterlist
Your chest is red-hot with anguish; it’s all you feel lately. Confined to this white room, locked in, spending all your time waiting for something that won’t come.
Nothing is real anymore. Your life is a thick fog that you can’t decipher, can’t tell which bits of it are real and which were planted by the Capitol. They made you a weapon against the revolution, against Katniss and Coin and Finnick.
You know him, that much is evident in your unconscious reactions. The way your chest tightens and squeezes when he walks into a room, how your breath catches and you hunger after his touch despite not knowing exactly why. But you know that he’s familiar and that - at one point or another - you loved him.
He visits routinely like clockwork, every day at around the same time. And each time you don’t push him away, don’t flinch at his touch like you do the others, his confidence grows.
Your doctor has been practicing memory games with you, which parts do your life are real and which are fabricated. You repeat them in your head over and over and sometimes they slip out when you’re talking, too. You’ve been incorporating opinions on top of the basic facts you know, and you’ve been including what you know about him.
You rock on the bed with your knees to your chest, feet tucked underneath you as you recite everything you can remember about him. You mutter it under your breath, tongue clicking as you whisper.
The door creaks and you stop dead mid-sentence. Finnick slips in without a word, pulling a chair up to sit by you. He doesn’t miss the way you eye him warily, watching every movement, every tick of his jaw and twitch of his muscles. You’ve always been perceptive- it’s one of his earliest memories of you. How you watch people.
He sits and watches you in return; you trace every inch of his body with your eyes, the bruises on his arms, the points of his shoulders, the slope of his nose and chin, the curve of his jaw.
“Finnick,” you say. He smiles; his fingers rest on the edge of the bed.
“That’s right.”
You reach out to touch him; he stays dead still as instructed by your doctors, but lets you lift his hand to place it in your own much smaller one. You turn so you’re sitting cross legged facing him, holding his hand in your lap. His heart could burst with the way you’re looking at him, a cocktail of fear and longing in your eyes. Something else lies deeper than that, like you’re being pulled through the rubble of your own mind and to the surface. Something a lot like love.
“Can I ask you something?” Your voice is small, more timid than he’s ever heard from you.
“Anything.”
“You love me. Real or not real?”
“Real,” he murmurs.
“I think I love you, too. I know I did before. I just don’t know which parts of my brain are real.” You fiddle with his fingers, the pad of your thumb rubbing over his knuckles methodically. If this is the only way you’ll ever touch him again, he’ll take it. He’ll take every scrap, every morsel of affection he can eke out of you. Whatever you’re comfortable with.
“We can figure that out together.” He’s soft as he speaks to you and it’s a voice that you remember. A very distinct one in your memory.
“Finnick,” you say again. He nods and shifts closer.
“Sometimes you call me Finn,” he starts, pressing lips to your knuckles. “Or honey. Or idiot if you’re mad at me.”
You smile and he catches a glimpse of you in there, engulfed by everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve been told. But he knows he can pull you out.
“I don’t think I’d ever be mad at you,” you mumble. He purses his lips thoughtfully.
“Well, sometimes I am an idiot. And I know you tell me that because you want to keep me safe.”
You’re in agreement there, not knowing everything but knowing undeniably that you would do anything to protect Finnick.
You shuffle over in the bed and tug at his arm. He tilts his head curiously, knowing what you’re asking but not wanting to be presumptuous.
“You want me to come sit up there with you, sweetheart?”
“Yes please.”
“Okay.” He settles himself next to you, legs outstretched where yours are tucked up tightly to your body. “If it gets too much, you tell me and I’ll go, okay?”
“I don’t want you to go.”
“Then I won’t.”
You shuffle round and swing your legs over his own so you’re almost completely in his lap; his arm comes up and over your shoulders automatically, like muscle memory. This is how you are in your clearest memories- together, a tightly knit partnership. He’s holding his breath, waiting for you to realise what you’re doing and lose composure, but that moment doesn’t come. You just sit and close your eyes, ear to his chest, listening to his heart beat.
“I’m tired,” you croak.
“You want me to leave you to sleep?”
“No.” Your voice is thick and uneven where you’re full of all these new emotions that you can’t quite place. “Will you stay?”
“I’ll stay as long as you want.”
He pulls the thin blanket over your body and smiles as you needle in close to him, face in the juncture of his neck. Hiding with him instead of from him.
“C’mere, sweetheart.” You relax at the pet name, your body going lax against his own as you start to fall asleep.
You can’t be asleep for more than 30 minutes before you start to stir. You’re muttering in your sleep as you start to twitch and reach out for something.
Your brow knits and it forms a crease in the middle of your forehead as you start to cry.
“Honey, c’mon,” Finnick murmurs, his hand pressed to your neck in an effort to rouse you. “It’s just a dream.”
His chest aches; he can’t bear seeing you in this state, knowing there’s not much he can do to make it better. Thinking it’s his fault for not getting to you in time.
You scream and wake with a start, wide-eyed and frantic. Your eyes flit around the clinical looking room as you try to gauge your surroundings and reorient yourself.
“Honey, it’s okay. It was just a dream, you’re safe.”
You scramble back and push him away, curling yourself up into a ball at the foot of the bed. Tears paint your cheeks and they shine in the harsh white lights, hiccuping sobs. He crouches a metre or so away, palms up, arms outstretched in hopes you’ll make contact again.
“Breathe, just breathe,” he says. “You’re okay. I’m here, I’m not gonna let anything happen to you.”
You’re like a wild animal the way you look at him- panic-stricken and agitated, frenetic in the way you move.
“Honey, it’s me. It’s Finn.”
You swallow thickly and nod, your body slowly starting to unfurl.
“Finn,” you sniffle, holding out your arms. “Finnick.”
He creeps closer still and you practically throw yourself into his arms, face against the hollow of his throat, arms locked around his middle like a vice.
“I have you. I’m right here,” he says, over and over like a mantra. A promise.
“I don’t wanna live like this anymore.”
“You’re not going to,” he whispers. “I’ll be here until you feel well enough and then we can start planning our life. Together.”
“Okay.”
Your fingers card through the short hairs at the nape of his neck, wet eyes meeting his.
“I love you. I know it now, I can remember that.”
“I love you too,” he says, craning his neck to meet your eyes. “You’re my girl.”
You’re hesitant as you tilt your head up to press a kiss to his lips but he welcomes it, his thumb and forefinger holding your chin in place as he pecks you a few more times.
“We’re gonna have a life of our own, I promise.”
“A life of our own.”
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