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#the metaphor is right there.
bakudekublogblog · 4 months
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izuku didn’t just have to see katsuki’s dead body, he also had to see the fucking all might card right next to him. physical proof that katsuki always had a tender spot in his heart for izuku and their childhood together. evidence that katsuki fucking LOVED HIM THIS WHOLE TIME and now it’s TOO LATE. it’s actually so devastatingly romantic and fucking tragic. izuku really only finds out katsuki loved him all along when he thinks he’s lost him forever.
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Abby has another great FNAF lore question for Michael,,
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mp100days · 2 years
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042 - board meeting
edit I KNOW THE BATTER TALKS MOB TALKS TOO . THEYRE NOT ALL SILENT PROTAGS
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izzye-girl · 3 months
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Been having fun alone daddy 🥺 come join me let's cum together 💦🍆🤤👉👌
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beaulesbian · 1 year
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After my son left it behind, Derek towed it in, thinking it was probably beyond repair. But then he opened up the hood and he pulled off all the duck tape Stiles had stuck on it. And he managed to fix it. That Jeep, no matter what’s been done to it, it just keeps running. He could never figure out why it wouldn’t break down and stay down.
And I don’t think he ever realized that that’s exactly the way we saw him. I have never seen anyone take that kind of punishment that Derek Hale took, and kept taking, in order to protect the people he loved.
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canisalbus · 4 months
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Machete and Vasco are so pomegranate-and-the-hand-that-slices coded. To me.
Pomegranates are seen as messy, bloody, inconvenient fruits. You slice or tear or bite and in return for your effort you come away underwhelmed, disgusted, and stained too deep to wash. The consumption of a pomegranate is a violent act of defilement, for both the fruit and the eater.
But that is because most do not understand how to open a pomegranate. They have little patience for the precise carving. They see no point in coreing the fruit gently, no reason to be reverent as they pull the quarters apart. When done correctly, opening a pomegranate leaves little mess. Your fingers will still stain, your knife will still slick, but there will be no pool of crimson drowning both you and the fruit.
The seeds are only sweet to those who understand the merit of a light hand and intricate slicing. Why put in so much effort for a food so bitter and clearly armored against consumption? Surely it must not yearn to be eaten.
(^insane about silly catholic dogs)
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genderqueerpond · 3 days
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We don't talk enough about the fact that Amelia Pond, s5 Amelia Pond, before the timeline is reset, isn't just a normal orphan. Her parents didn't die, didn't abandon her, and didn't send her away. They never existed in the first place.
And if her parents never existed, then Amelia cannot exist. She is a causal impossibility.
"People fall out of the world sometimes, but they always leave traces." A photograph. A face carved into an apple. Yes. Sure.
A child.
Now that's too big, surely.
But that's what she is. She is exactly the same as these things. A trace. An echo of something that could never be, never was, never could have been.
And the universe should never allow it. A whole person, that's just too much. She could not have continued to exist indefinitely, in normal circumstances, after her parents never existed.
In normal circumstances.
Because the Doctor didn't just save her from things coming out of the crack in her wall. He saved her from going into it. And he didn't just save her from the threat of going into it simply because of its vicinity.
No, by arriving when he did, he interrupted a process that was probably already in motion. And then by arriving again only moments later on a cosmic relative timestream (too quickly for the process to complete) and yet in the local relative timestream, years later --- years of a potential future caught midway through the process of rewriting -- he solidified that existence. Amy is a creature from another timeline, caught in amber. The Doctor prevented her from never existing, but only after she could already never exist.
And so, no one around Amelia thinks about it. Neither does she. There's some kind of consciousness block, because if you thought about it, really thought about it, for two seconds you'd realize she cannot exist. And the human mind can't deal with that. So, to protect itself, everyone's brain simply slides off it before ever noticing. They just assume that her existence makes sense, and don't question it, and don't notice what they don't question, that is staring them in the face.
But of course, to some extent they do notice. They can't think it, but they notice subconsciously that there's something they can't think. They notice there's something wrong with her, something uncanny. And they don't like it, and they alienate her even more because of it.
"Does it ever bother you Pond that your life existence doesn't make any sense?"
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i wanted to put Wally in my Barbie movie fit <3 he's gonna go watch it with his bestie
it backfired <3 poor thing's in a crisis
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robonoba-zorbo · 3 months
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First impression Law vs. actual Law is so crazy cause when we first meet him, he's this asshole(affectionate) who makes whimsical little torso tornados and travels with a bunch of dudes in jumpsuits, and then you meet him for real and he's some... edgy twink with a friend group that consists of a furry and bunch of dorks, and an inability to play nice with people who're at the same skill level as him.
I love both versions so dearly tho-
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ghostdrinkssoup · 11 months
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dorian only thinks his portrait is beautiful because he sees it as a depiction of his fleeting youth and identity, but the truth is the portrait is actually a reflection of basil, the artist, who put too much of himself in it. it’s not dorian who is beautiful, but rather basil’s pure love for him, which in turn is a reflection of basil’s soul and true nature. by loving dorian, and embracing his love through art without shame, basil has created the most precious thing, even if it is fleeting. much like romance, all art is quite useless, but it touches the human spirit nonetheless, and that’s important
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vaguely-concerned · 7 months
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it probably says something either sad or deeply unfortunate about me as a person, but I'm darkly amused to see some people react to the reveal of the ultimate permeability of souls in tlt as a triumphant thing -- the "you can't take 'loved' away!!!" side of it all -- when my first reaction was such an immediate wave of 'oh, oh so this is why this series is horror, I truly understand now' distress haha. ngl the final confirmation of the self not being inviolable in the deepest way freaks me the fuck out far more than any moment of body horror in the series has managed. (these two elements are of course the two sides of one thematic coin; it's about the horror of our bodies and minds and selves not being inviolable things, and about the effect of violence on them on so many different levels. violence psychological and interpersonal, physical, subtextually sexual, emotional, medical, political, a whole unlovely smörgåsbord of indignity and violation a person can be exposed to, and on a broader scale the spectrum of violence colonialism wields). The world and other people being capable of leaving indelible marks on us for good or ill through their presence in our lives is of course a pretty self-evident demonstrable truth in the real world, but somehow having it be proven metaphysically just uh. Fucks me up! 
It also drives home to me just how perfectly Muir has captured the dilemma at the heart of human connection and intimacy: the fact that the thing that gives us life and meaning is also capable of harming us so deeply. the same thing that can be so beautiful — even in a bittersweet, violently transformative form like with the creation of Paul — when done mutually and consensually and compassionately, is the same process that means someone like John can touch someone else's soul and 'after he's put his fingers on something, you'll never find anyone else's fingerprints on it; too much noise'. I think the text itself — the whole series, because to me this is what it is ultimately about, this tension between individuation/self vs. love/connection/enmeshment — is far more ambivalent in its treatment of it than saying it’s inherently a good thing or inherently a bad thing. The only thing it says for sure is that it is always a thing, that thinking you’re ever getting away from it is the height of futility, and that through being alive (or even through being dead lol) it is something you have to engage with in some way no matter what. Contact with other people is deeply necessary — without it we sicken and die. it can be the most beautiful and meaningful thing in a human life, and the most unspeakably horrific. All of these people are searching for some way to be whole, whether in total self-contained sufficiency on their own or in melding with someone else as their ‘other half’, and stumbling around in the dark they reach for each other and score deep wounds into the thing they’re trying to touch even when they don’t mean to. Taken to horrific extremes with the form of lyctorhood John guided his disciples to when they were ‘children — playing in the reflections of stars in a pool of water, thinking it was space’, because while people hurt each other all the time with differing levels of intentionality behind it, what John did was deliberate. It weaponizes the misapprehension of what closeness must be and destroys everyone involved in the process… and all because it leaves John the one sun their ruined lives have left to orbit around, because that’s the closest thing his soul will allow to connection. He doesn’t understand that to truly touch something you have to truly let it touch you back, and then wonders why he’s never satisfied.   
‘The horrors of love’ has been memed to death, I know, but… yeah. That is what it is, isn’t it.
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galgali · 13 days
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jekyll and hyde is not about an evil guy who independently inhabits a good guy's body it's about a guy who consciously and intentionally has an evilsona
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4reology · 5 months
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they feel your light...
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my take on the deleted sunflower scene 🌻
find me elsewhere 🔗 • buy me a coffee ☕
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inkskinned · 1 year
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here's the good news: you don't know what else you still have to learn about this world.
i've been here for almost three decades. i know a lot of things. i know a lot about nature. it can tell you lots of facts about flowers and trees and creatures. i am lucky to say i have spent a large portion of my life wandering around outside.
i didn't know the fog lifts until today. i thought it was just a saying; like how we say rain "peters out", or that "dawn breaks".
goblin and i were walking in a place called pine alley. these red pines all are old wood; they stretch high up. the path is wide and beautiful. the fog was snuggled against the ground in a warm fur. i was on a call with my brother, talking about a funeral.
i've been jaded recently. certain personal things have been going very badly. i'm stressed beyond the breaking point, because i hit the breaking point about 2 months ago and had to keep going. i recently ran out of room on my to-do list for a single day - and i wasn't even breaking down my tasks neatly.
but the fog lifted.
i'd never seen it do that. i didn't know it could happen so quickly. the curtain, slipping upwards, returning to the sky. my brother kept talking on the other end of the line. i had to interrupt him. holy shit, i said. fog actually lifts.
i've been living in foggy locations my whole life. i love fog. i love the gentle quiet peace that comes with it.
and here, in the trees beside a meadow, i felt the universe wink at me. see, it said, there's things even you keep learning.
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okay but here’s why I actually straight up started crying towards the end there.
when the Hells first arrived in Uthodern, the atmosphere was fear.  the city was dark.  temples were closing their doors.  the center for knowledge, where so many people came for answers, did not have knowledge.  did not have answers.  people were scared.  scared that they couldn’t find help, scared that they couldn’t reach out to loved ones, ask if they are okay.
and suddenly, within their very walls, within their homes, a horrible beast sprouted forth from the heart of the city.  there was death, there was destruction.  there was despair.  because if their own home wasn’t safe, then nowhere was.
the darkness was winning.
then a woman with purple hair and odd markings spoke into the captain of the guard’s mind and told him that things were better.  things were okay.  and he believed her.  because what else could he do but to cling to hope?
because that’s what the Hells brought with them, as this terrifying celestial beast that once brought death now steps out, wearing a peach bow, surrounded by the radiance and light that the city so sorely needed.  he is guarded by such an odd group, but they all exude calm.  there is a small gnome wearing a pink handknit sweater riding on its back.
they guide this noble, beautiful beast through an entire city, and the whole time they are showcasing to everyone that the darkness is not winning.  not now.  not while there is still hope kindling in our hearts.  not while ancient beasts can once again see the stars.
the world may be ending, but it hasn’t ended yet.
not if Bells Hells can help it.
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starry-teacup · 19 days
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recently been thinking about a post I saw pointing out that the primary theme of the nightmare is neglect. she's been left alone down there and told she's a monster and can do nothing but internalize that.
but anyways it's interesting how the two ways to get the moment of clarity are by either running or staying with her.
In running, you come face to face with the damage you have done, and in rejection or denial of your culpability you turn tail and refuse to reap what you sown. It makes her lash out and you are swallowed by her pain for refusing to acknowledge it or your responsibility in it as you reinforce once again that she is a thing to be escaped from.
In staying, however, you recognize what you have done. You see that you hurt her, and seek to remedy it by remaining down here to keep her company- but in your attempt to heal her, you miscalculate just exactly how great her suffering was, and in thinking that it was a thing that you could fix or even bear, you unknowingly dove into the depths with her. You thought her sadness was a shallow creek, and jumped into an ocean of her loneliness and drowned in it.
Either way, you are mocked for your misunderstanding of what it means to be abandoned and to ache as the princess does, and you are forced to realize the entirety of your transgressions the hard way.
rip hero
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