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#poetic or something idk
asleepinawell · 6 months
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Irem, the Pillared City: Futures
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dasloddl · 7 months
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macaroonkitti · 4 months
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Quick treat for my Zelda followers, thinking about Link post totk <3
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thespianwordnerd · 5 months
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I think you came here with a plan, but you didn't expect to fall in love. But that's what happens.
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kimbapisnotsushi · 9 months
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see the thing that gets me about the nekoma v. nohebi match is that when naoi is helping yaku on the side of the court, he tells him, "shibayama may look weak, but he's strong" to try and reassure him and yaku just goes, "i know. it's not him i'm worried about" in response
and whenever i read that i'm just like "!!!" because yaku never doubted shibayama! yaku ALWAYS believed in him, even when shibayama didn't believe in himself! yaku trusted that he would carry! what the fuck was naoi even on! why would he say that in the first place! yaku is presumably the one who spent the most time with shibayama, training him and helping him and teaching him to grow! to connect! to become part of the team! that's YAKU'S number one pupil! how could yaku not have any faith in him? how could yaku think, even for a second, that shibayama wouldn't pull through?
also, his admission that it was lev he was worried about? which, yeah, i'm pretty sure all of us already knew — if anyone was going to be a weak link, it would be the cocky overconfident first-year brat who talked hot shit without anything to show for it. (and i'm saying this as someone who loves lev a lot, mind you.)
but what worried yaku the most was that lev didn't understand 'connection'. and while yaku could more than make up for it with his own skill, it's crazy to think that lev didn't understand it while yaku, of all people, was on the court. lev didn't understand until shibayama stepped in! and that's the crazier part: yaku couldn't connect with lev, but shibayama did. yaku and lev worked fine, yeah, but that wasn't what lev needed to understand. and that's okay! sometimes all it takes is the right person with the right words, and everything falls into place. and i think that's an absolutely brilliant and incredibly lovely lesson on how connection is also about finding the different ways to make puzzle pieces fit instead of sanding down their edges, because everyone is different and that should be something we are all understanding of!!!!
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just-eddie505 · 1 month
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skitskatdacat63 · 7 months
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I just woke up and this is still haunting me, he's just SOOOOOOOOO
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bookishjules · 24 days
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listen i kinda love that we're getting the first twp like exactly a decade after the first tda
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chuckduckling · 1 year
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This is from a PIDW QiJiu AU of mine, where a glitch in The System damages Bingge’s protagonist-halo, allowing Yue Qingyuan to overcome his trap and rescue Shen Qingqiu.
However, YQY has to draw his sword to battle LBH, and his cultivation ends up damaged and weakened. Both SQQ's body and cultivation are damaged from LBH's torture, as well.
And so, with the jianghu and demon realm thrown into disarray, QiJiu retire to a small insignificant town to lay low and heal.
They have to find new meaning in their lives after losing all their power and status, but whatever struggles they face, they'll face them together this time.
Also, they'll fuck. Cause it's a QiJiu AU.
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valarinde · 2 years
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[sits up in bed at 2am]: If the homunculi in Fullmetal Alchemist are the personification of Father’s capital sins then Envy’s literal essence is the feeling of self-loathing and jealousy and fear of being less-than. The sin of envy is associated with unhappiness and grief, leading to resentment and the urge to inflict pain on others/a desire to see others suffer as a way of relieving that feeling of fundamental inferiority.
Envy is lonely — but forming emotional connections requires making yourself vulnerable, and Envy balks at the idea of showing vulnerability in front of anybody. He’s paranoid about being looked down on, and incredibly aggressive toward anyone he suspects of doing just that. He’s painfully aware of his own defects and plagued by a craving for things he does not have: power, respect, beauty, friendship. And he’s horrified at the possibility that others will see him and know this, that he is a sad, pitiful thing that wants, even though there’s weakness in wanting. It’s an admission that he’s falling short. If they know, they will all look down on him. Then he will have nothing.
And the thing is, his siblings had something. Lust had power over people. Gluttony indulged, Pride was Father’s favourite, Wrath got to be a ruthless dictator. Greed, so similar and yet so fundamentally different, wasn’t ashamed of wanting things, and he died having known true friendship. Envy despises genuine human connection because he has none, and it’s in his nature to revert to hating what he doesn’t have. And yet neither does he try, because he also knows that the humiliation of rejection, the confirmation that he is lacking, that he is unwanted, would be too much to bear for something like him. So he actively self-sabotages at every turn. Resentment and hate are all he’s left with.
And when someone does see him for what he is, the ugly, pathetic core of him — when he’s too exposed to ever go back, he doesn’t give them time to pity him. He kills himself.
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beanghostprincess · 4 months
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Dreams that rest behind your watercolor eyes (Sanuso Fic)
Summary:
Sanji runs one of his nails through the paper and stares intensely at it. He shrugs his shoulders, sighing at the sight. “Nothing. It’s just-” When his eyes meet Usopp’s, the sniper wonders what kissing the hands he takes care of so meticulously would feel like. Random thought, yes, but he wants to try it anyway. “You see it too. The All Blue, I mean. I guess that I’m not so crazy after all, huh?” Sanji smiles, a manta ray they caught a few days ago moving behind his silhouette, and some other sea creatures dancing along to Sanji’s heartbeat. Usopp sees it, then. He understands. It isn’t quite understanding, though. Understanding isn’t the word he’s looking for. But he sees it. - Usopp has never understood what Sanji's dream truly means until now.
This fanfic came to me in a vision when I saw @m0thcl0wn's gorgeous fanart of Sanji. My hand kind of slipped because this wasn't exactly what I was going for and I really, really wanted to make it a short thing... But I don't regret any of it! I loved how it turned out, and I hope you all like it too <3
The fanart btw:
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annaofaza · 10 months
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I love how in this manga that asks "what makes someone human or a monster?," Vash is able to call back the human into a monster.
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beiyuanism · 6 months
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something something "you must take that emotion and you must bury it" something something "he left me (...) so i had to bury it on my own"
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red-hibiscus · 2 months
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Watching Something In My Room confirms that my favorite kind of confession is the one where they both are very aware that there's something going on, but they don't explicitly say it. Instead eventually something is mentioned that verbally confirms that they're right.
Up until this point the two of them have been very close emotionally, but haven't directly mentioned anything about them liking each other. Not until Ben came into the picture. This sparked a realization in Phat that 1, Phob is gay, and 2, he's jealous. Phob picked up on that and decided to speak up by reassuring him that whatever went on between him and Ben is over. He only has Phat, letting Phat know that he's aware that their feelings are mutual.
After that their relationship shifts.
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It reminds me of the confession scene in ITSAY
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The one where Oh-aew says that he no longer likes Bas and Teh correctly guesses that it's because he likes someone else. Oh-aew repeatedly says "I think you know" to Teh, and of course Teh does. Oh-aew then turns the conversation around to Teh and asks when Teh started liking him.
Both of them clearly picked up on the fact that they liked each other. However it wasn't until this intimate moment when they were alone when it got out. Teh possibly still wasn't sure at that point, but he had the idea.
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crazysnor1ax · 2 months
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Let my beginning be my end.
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3pblueberry · 3 months
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somewhere in the world, there's a middle-aged man who worked an office job, who once owned a blue shirt. here is everything i know about him:
he donated one of his work shirts to an op-shop, which is where i bought it.
blue cotton, double weave. good quality, good brand. there's a small coffee stain on the front, probably why he donated it.
maybe he liked his job. maybe he didn't. i imagine him faceless, slouched over his computer. i imagine this from his perspective, as if i am wearing his shirt. i imagine him tired.
i wonder how he'd feel about me. there's no way he could have imagined the life his shirt would have after him. no way he could have imagined me buying it, ripping the seams out, and sewing the good quality cotton into strange and different shapes. i wonder what he'd think if he could see me, slouched over my sewing machine? that his gender, which was as inherent to him as hunger or sleep, would be something i lacked and craved so desperately? as if masculinity was also something i could take apart at the seams and sew back together again, into something that would fit me.
while sewing, i accidentally spill a bit of tea on my pants. as i dab it away, there's a small stain.
i wonder if he'd be moved by it, if he knew? i wonder about the person who made this shirt - where are they now? it's secondhand intimacy, we remain complete strangers to each other. yet their life, and his, and mine, sit parallel in time. separation is an illusion! we are both a part, and apart!
somewhere, there's a middle-aged man; his old new shirt is on my desk. just - doesn't it make you feel immortal, kinda, the way objects move through our lives? what stays, when we go?
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