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#reminds me of a post that said
iamanartichoke · 10 months
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I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -
I am fine with "the audience" -
downloading my fics
printing my fics
copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics
sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3
making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss
doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc
I am not fine with "the audience"
doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity
feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever
Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.
Enjoy the fandom things.
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vroom-vrooms · 1 month
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Charles answering with “we have a good relationship” to a question about beating Max is like the direct opposite of Lewis answering with “I remember the first time i looked up the girls. When I met my girlfriend. I remember the first time having sex” to someone asking if he remembered meeting Nico
Lewis tries and fails to deflect in the most unconvincing way possible, Charles chooses to expose himself very clearly
Weird tactics but ok guys 🙄
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leroibobo · 1 month
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the depopulation of the palestinian village of kawkab al-hawa is far from the only case in which a palestinian village was violently, entirely depopulated during the 1948 nakba. it's also not the only case in which neighboring kibbutz residents advocated for and even themselves participated in the destruction of houses, nor is it the only case in which elements of the village were only kept so they could serve a neighboring tourist attraction. however, it is a conspicuous case of all of the above, combined.
kawkab al-hawa happens to sit by belvoir castle, one of the best-preserved crusader castles in palestine. the village itself had been testified to in some shape or form from antiquity - the crusaders had referred to the village with the frankish name "belvoir", hence the name of the castle. after saladin retook it, the village as we know it today expanded into and around the castle's confines. by 1945, the castle had been in ruins for centuries, while the rural village housed 300, mostly farmers.
in the words of meron benvenisti: "In the Israeli context, it is preferable to immortalize those who exterminated the Jewish communities of Europe (in the late eleventh and early twelfth centuries) and murdered the Jews of Jerusalem in 1099 than to preserve relics of the local Arab civilization with which today's Israelis coexist...Arab buildings spoil the myth of an occupied land under foreign rule, awaiting liberation at the hands of the Jews returning to their homeland."
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chiropteracupola · 1 month
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iskierka iskierkaaaaaa my honeycake my thousand-times darling i love you i love you i love you i love youuuu
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forsworned · 3 months
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Ghost: “Can you not look at me like that? Please?” Y/N: “Like what?” Ghost: “You either hate me or want to-” Y/N, attempting to flirt: “-Fuck the living daylights out of you? Yeah.” Ghost: “You know, that’s not what I was going to say.”
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crybaby-bkg · 9 months
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cw: Bakugou dies but comes back to life, “comes back wrong” trope, implied fighting, angst
When Bakugou died, you’re not sure how you went on living. Grief had taken over your life, sat you in the passenger side while it cruised off the highway into icy waters. And even then, you couldn’t find the energy to drown.
It’s why there’s a sudden uptick of energy when you’re promised to have him back. Some top scientists contact you months after his death, tell you to hurry down to the headquarters labs, come and rejoice for what you’re about to witness. And you’re horrified, to say the least.
“This isn’t my husband.” Are your first words when you walk in, watch the figure on the other side of the glass examine its own hands. It looks like your husband but—but his hair isn’t the right shade of blond all over. His nose bridge had a slight bump after a scuffle with a villain. He had a scar on his hand but—but it never looked like it was to sew a pinky beside the other fingers.
“Is that really my husband?” You ask next in disbelief, slowly entering the room. Bakugou’s head snaps up, his eyes a little brighter than you remember but—they hold so much emotion. So much memory, so much panic, so much guilt.
“I left you.” He mutters, his voice raspy and ragged, and you wonder if it’ll always be like this now. It makes you cry a little harder than it should, but you only embrace each other. He’s cold and his shoulders don’t hold the same mass and his back doesn’t carry the same scars. There’s one, jagged and rough, running down his back, and you think, you think that’s where they slipped a new spine in.
“Welcome back home.” You tell him, weeks after meeting him again, new and not totally—Katsuki. He’s stiff and he doesn’t immediately take off his boots when he enters, and it worries you. Makes you think if you’ve just let a stranger into your home, one that has stolen your dead husbands face. Makes you wonder if he’ll be as loving as Katsuki once was, or if he’ll become your monster looming over you with the guilt of not being able to rest anymore.
���I’ve missed you so much.” You whisper against his mouth one night, a little while after he’s moved back. You don’t know why you lay under him, why you let him nestle himself inside of you, why you let him hold you against his chest. Katsuki always ran his hands over your cheeks and neck whenever he held you like this, but this…man, only holds himself up with his hands resting beside your head. It’s alien, how he looks at you, how his hips are methodically measured with every thrust, how he kisses you every 8 seconds. You wonder if he’s more robot than Frankenstein monster.
“Why did you come back to me like this?” You ask him one night, barricaded in the bathroom away from him. You can hear his sobs on the other side, his pleading to be let in. He tells you he never wanted to come back if he had to be like this, that he’s sorry, please let him in, he misses the warmth of your skin, he’s never been so cold before, he’s never liked the cold.
“Is this considered cheating?” You ask yourself aloud one night, when Bakugou is forced back to the lab when he becomes too…un-Bakugou. To sleep with a man that is your husband in every way but? Your husband has been dead for a year now, and yet you stroke the chin of the man that tries so hard to be him everyday, but fails so miserably at it every time.
“I’ll come back to you right this time.” Bakugou promises to you when he’s strapped down to leave for the lab and before he’s sedated. But you don’t believe him—you never did. Your husband is dead, and this animated corpse has been nothing but a cheap mockery of everything you’ve lost and something you will never truly get back.
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bobmckenzie · 2 months
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women selfshippers who aren't stereotypically feminine, whether in physical features or personality or anything, your f/o loves you just the way you are 💚 you are their ideal woman ! :)
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guzhufuren · 1 year
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VegasPete + text posts for @sapphicblight (pt. 31/35)
bonus:
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kelpshippingceo · 4 months
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you ever think about how lloyd lost his childhood due to the tea, his teenage years to being a ninja + (gestures vaguely at harumi-induced trauma) and his early adult years to isolating himself from the world and grieving his friends? because I do
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florenceisfalling · 2 months
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the passenger (2023)
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mettywiththenotes · 1 month
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Ngl Mic's reaction is giving me Nana vibes. The whole grief of their situations being brought up and wanting so desperately for it to end already, to choose the easy way out just so it stops hurting
Nana going from crying because Izuku wanted to save Tomura and feeling grateful to then shouting at Izuku to kill him already. Mic going from "if you aren't Shirakumo fade away but if you are come back to us" to then grabbing Kurogiri by his clothes ready to punch him and yelling about how he shouldn't have given him the benefit of the doubt
I think it's also shown in the way Mic lists things that dehumanise Kurogiri too. "He's not crying, it's just the rain" "he has no tear ducts, he's a noumu" It's so clear he wants this to be over already
Same thing happened with Nana and Tomura. The vestiges too. They kept saying how he is destruction incarnate, how it's too late for him, how he's a "thing" "not human", just like Tomura said himself
Mic and Nana just let themselves think that way because it's the easy way out. They put a lid on their feelings, and in the final war arc it's like the lids got ripped off and it's all coming out now
That's why I think Aizawa and Izuku sort of parallel here. They wonder about their supposed enemies. "Why didn't he get rid of us? Why didn't he kill us when he could have?" Aizawa asks, physically reaching out to Kurogiri. "I have to ask why he can't let go of that sad lonely past of his!" Izuku says, also attempting to reach out to Tomura in his own way
"That's where their origins lie" Aizawa says as he thinks back to those school days. And Izuku was in Tomura's mind, literally at the center of his "origin"
Even though it's painful for Nana, Tomura and Mic, Aizawa and Izuku press on anyway because they can't help but wonder whether things can change. If things don't have to be this way
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old-stoneface · 9 months
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vetinari is a really good influence on vimes
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epickiya722 · 1 year
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So not only this man been making/sharing lunches with Midoriya...
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HE'S BEEN USING RABBIT PATTERN BENTO CLOTHS!!
That is just too adorable, I can't take this, my feelings, All Might you are just so... AAAAAAHHHH!!! 😭💜
(This post and post for reference!)
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velociheroviridi · 1 year
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Everytime Rei or Kazuki mention something that shows that they're planning to raise Miri in the long term just UGH my heart starts to hurt
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I love them so much 😭😭😩😩
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lovesickeros · 8 months
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☆ the dove
{☆} characters tsaritsa {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings violence, blood {☆} word count 0.7k
Her hands are weapons, forged in a tragedy as much as a war of ash and blood that seeps into the earth and rots it from within. To them, however, she is salvation. Her hands are a kindness, not a threat. She sees it in their puffy, red eyes just brimming with tears, their fragile body so delicate and weak is still remains marred by wounds new and old – the gold still stains their skin, even long after it had been washed away.
She has seen it all – and she takes the injured dove beneath her wing with the sickly sweet promise that someday she shall mend its broken wings and teach it to fly again.
And in their stupor, they do not see her clip their wings.
It is for the best.
The wolves still salivate below the nest, waiting for her little dove to fall again – no, she shall not send her little bird to fly when it will just fall into their waiting maws once again.
This..this one is hers, she has decided.
Her little bird who dreams of the sky and the woman who clips their wings..what a tragic pair they must make, she thinks.
Not for her, of course. Yet not to them, either, unaware of the way she grounds them and keeps the key to their cage tightly in her fist.
"Tsaritsa?" The soft, meek lilt of the little bird draws her from her reverie, and she smiles – all teeth and little else, wolfish and predatory.
Yet the bird sees nothing but love in the sharp points of her canines.
As it was meant to be.
"Yes, little bird?"
She coos in honeyed tones, brushing her cold, cold hands against their skin, reveling in the way they shiver and shake beneath the ever present chill in her very bones. They do not fear the claws that ghost across their skin, and the smile they offer that illuminates their eyes like stars only proves her right – she wants to devour them whole. To see the stars in their eyes burn out beneath her teeth, their golden blood burn upon her tongue and down her throat.
"You promised to take me to the gardens today, remember?"
Her pearly, sharpened fangs peer out beneath her lips as she grins wider, unnerving to all but the little bird who sees not the wolf but the wool it wears, her hands finding their place upon their shoulders as she whispers into their ear.
She will guide her little bird where they cannot go, where their clipped wings cannot take them.
She will give them that bittersweet taste of freedom and then watch them try to catch the stars..
Just to drag them back down to earth where they belong.
"Of course, Creator – I am a woman of my word, am I not?"
Such sickly sweet lies come to her with ease – she lies and she lies and they do not see past the woolen cloak of the wolf until its jaw has snapped around its throat and its blood has painted the world a shimmering gold.
She will delight in that, too.
"If I may be so bold, Creator, you have been distant lately..have you grown tired of me already?"
Her words were as sharp as a blade, yet as dull as a rock, as sweet as they were dangerous. Like watching a mouse trap luring in its prey, she would snap it shut as soon as the little bird strayed too close.
"No! No, that's not..you've just been busy lately, I didn't want to intrude."
They remind her so much of a rabbit in those moments, and she so badly wants to know what would happen if she just took a small, insignificant bite..yet she restrains herself with a far too wide smile, her jaw clenched so hard she almost thinks they will hear it creak.
"Intrude? You could ever hardly intrude, Creator – what is mine is yours. Though, perhaps I shall have to lock you in my room to ensure you compensate me for depriving me of your presence."
In just a few short words, she snares the rabbit – her little bird, her Creator. They will see nothing but the sickly sweet lure of her smile, letting out a pretty laugh of their own as they press closer, like a bird wandering into the open maw of the beast lying in wait.
"As long as it has a nice view, I suppose I won't mind."
They jest, but she does not. And oh, how easy it is to ensnare an unsuspecting prey.
"Of course, Creator – just for you."
It won't be long until her little bird returns to its gilded cage, now. Permanently.
It is better that way.
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didderd · 1 year
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Oh no. The child ate the poisonous flowers again. :p
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