#and “let them have their nostalgia”
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
origami-butterfly · 6 months ago
Text
Ok but sometimes the most infuriating political stance a person can have is point blank refusing to discuss social issues with you when you bring it up because they "don't want to get political". Don't open the tags unless you want to read a rant
#my random stuff#vaguepost#vent post#like... babes. how do i explain EVERY DAMN THING YOU DO can be considered political by some metric#YES that includes your silence#also the fact that they will happily talk about being a socialist and fuck the tories and everything#but then if i ever want to discuss something that doesn't directly affect them they will literally just shut me down#like i know our normal friendship consists of sunshine and rainbows and silliness#but I'd fucking appreciate if you didn't ruin that friendship by refusing to agree with me about things that should be a no brainer#I can't even discuss fucking JK ROWLING with them!! because their sibling loves harry potter and they always say “it's just a kids series”#and “let them have their nostalgia”#OH I'M SORRY.#DOES YOUR FUCKING NOSTALGIA MEAN MORE TO YOU THAN MY LITERAL SURVIVAL AND HEALTH???#like. I'm sorry but there's more important things here#babygirl i don't know how to explain to you#that if a political party said they were going to kill all lefties people BUT give all right handed people unlimited access to horror films#you would vote for them wouldn't you?#even though I'm left handed you'd say “of course i support left handedness how can you even question that”#<- shit metaphor. i know.#but i could point out “yeah they want to kill me” and they'd say “I just don't know enough about it to discuss this; sorry”#like??? if you don't know enough#maybe. fucking?? educate yourself??? by having discussions about it???#PLEASE pull your head out the sand sweetie#saying you care is just empty fucking words#i shouldn't be saying this; they're one of my oldest friends but GOD.#if you can't even agree with me about jkr being a fucking holocaust denier we're going to keep having problems
7 notes · View notes
slutpoppers · 6 days ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ultra level Digimon using their 2nd techniques!
1st signature move in here!!!
Digimon Adventure (1999)
206 notes · View notes
bonetrousledbones · 11 months ago
Text
so when are we gonna start appreciating undertale AUs for fueling a metric fuck ton of the creativity and longevity of the fandom because if i see one more person calling them the cringiest part of the last 8 years i might lose it
302 notes · View notes
keirahknightley · 4 months ago
Text
When you stumble upon old photos from high school and you get that weird feeling that this was simultaneously just last week and an entirely different life, you know what i mean? It feels so close and at the same time so far away from your current life...
105 notes · View notes
tenebrous-dream · 26 days ago
Text
Tumblr media
the npcs in 3ot are so dramatic . calm down andrew
51 notes · View notes
galaxicnerd · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
rawr !!! x33🐾 credit 2 sketchmichi on da 4 teh epic base >w< !!!
260 notes · View notes
ganondoodle · 10 months ago
Text
im quite tired of talking about totk, like im sure you all know by know just how frustrated i am, but something i still strongly believe was the logical, and best thing to do in a sequel.. -
while botw was about you feeling lost in a strange world with neither you nor link knowing anything and both discovering it as you go, the theme of lonelyness and isolation, freeing the spirits of dead friends you need toremember again, in the end finally reuniting with one of the only friends still alive, after a 100 years
totk should have been about community, about working together with zelda at your side, as a companion, after having been seperated for so long, and seeing nothing of the time between titles, this should have been her travelling alongside you, after botw you'd WANT to spend time with her and get to know her more, her being the diplomat, the archtitect, the scientist, the translator of old texts, a historian trying to find out the truth about what her fathers kingdom was built on, to right old wrongs perhaps, for a better future- theres so much that she should have been, so much of her character was primed to go into this direction- and instead she is a pretty prize with no personality you get at the end like this is an 80s cartoon still
(this is disregarding the whole fact that ganondorf, AS WELL, should have been a giant factor in all this, in the history of it all, to explore his character and his actions, to have zelda research and find out about histroy clearly written by the victors- theres so much potential depth here that it dirves me crazy, botw was such a set up for more that was wasted, utterly wasted, for something i wouldnt even want to call paper thin bc even paper has more depth than anything in totk)
115 notes · View notes
baalzebufo · 3 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
its a doodle but! i wanted to share my more refined older mabel design, since ive settled on some more stuff since my last post of her
ive seen a few people give her overalls and it feels rly fitting. shes got big pockets because she needs to carry a million things with her. like bugs probably
shes probably taking an art course at a local college
39 notes · View notes
raccoonnutella13 · 7 months ago
Text
why are ppl always so mean about taz :(
#every time theres a new arc everyone who only liked balance is like 'oh if u dropped off after balance u have to listen to THIS arc bc its#JUST LIKE BALANCE'#every damn time.#it happened with ethersea a bit but especially w steeplechase and vs dracula#and u get ppl in the notes of these posts saying 'oh yeah i fucking hated everything after balance sooo glad theyre finally doing exactly#what i want them to!!'#like. its ok to have personal preference but dont be mean about it :(#and comparing every campaign to balance is rlly annoying sry#let them be their own thing#stop being so blinded by nostalgia ig#like not to be rude but. i think ppl think balance is the most Perfect Thing Ever but its rlly...not#all the campaigns have flaws but i aint canceling them for that#like what happened with grad#idk its like if balance came later ppl would probably be much more mean about it#bc they wouldnt be blinded by nostalgia as much or smthn#anyways#at the end of the day the mcelroys shouldnt be expected to make a replica of balance every campaign#and thats not what theyre trying to do. theyre doing what THEY personally want to do. like they clearly dont care abt what others think lol#theyre experimenting and having fun#its like. a free podcast with a bunch of silly dudes playing for funsies. they shouldnt have such high expectations or be demonized#in any way#my point being. if i see anyone being mean abt taz u get blocked#>:(#coon speaks#not tagging taz. i dont wanna see nasty ppl in my notifs ty
42 notes · View notes
kkst0904 · 1 year ago
Text
Tumblr media
kakisatober 7 ❤️🩷
106 notes · View notes
gunstellations · 9 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
calm before the storm
37 notes · View notes
icewindandboringhorror · 1 month ago
Text
I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently
#facebook always does that 'here's a post from this day 8 years ago' thing. and I see old comments interacting#with people and it's so like.. OOOOO~~ where are they now?? what's going on? how much have they changed as people?#how much are they the same? this is fascinating. i should contact them!!' but then it's like... take that to it's logical conclusion though#you would contact them and then IF they even responded it would take you 80 years to respond and then they would#think there was something wrong or that you were trying to be insulting or something. To contact anyone I need to include an 85 page#disclaimer of all of my social issues & mental illness things. 'If i take 3 weeks to reply I promise it has nothing to do with u' etc lol#THIS is why more people need to be into phone calls/voice calls/some form of audio real time communication/etc.#I think one of the main things that's hard about messaging through text for me is it's so unscheduled and open ended#(plus it takes forever if you're talking about anything in detail and gets very long very quickly)#because like you can send a message and then just get a reply whenever. and then you're expected to reply back whenever#so it's like you never know when the response will come or when a new obligation to reply can come up? so it's like this sudden thing with#no outline?? if that makes sense. whereas a phone call is very like 'hello let's schedule a call from 10am - 2pm on thursday'. And you know#EXACTLY when the interaction will start and EXACTLY when it will end and you can plan around it in your schedule easily.#I have the reverse thing of a lot of people (how people don't pick up phone calls/hate calls/only text)#I would literally talk on the phone with a stranger. I would have a discord voice chat with someone I barely know.#if someone I hardly even remember from elementary school asked to have a voice call with me out of nowhere I would do it.#but if a stranger MESSAGED me?? or someone I barely know sent me a TEXT or something?? I will never reply probably#It's just too vague and weird. and you can't read voice tone over text. and the interaction could last forever with no clear end#point and etc. etc. But a call is like. set. established. clear boundaries. you can read the flow of conversation better. rapport. etc. etc#I get that I guess people feel more anonymous or distanced over text?? but you can have fake phone numbers on the computer. or do like disc#rd calls. or zoom without a camera or etc. etc. Also the distance that's present in text is BAD distance because it just means that tone is#not conveyed properly and you will never truly get a sense of the person's conversational vibe or mannerisms or how well you really click.#ANYWAY ghgjh...... I'm so so so interested in concepts of like.. How did that one kid I used to talk to in elementary school#but then they moved away in 5th grade - how did they end up? what are they doing now?? etc. etc. Like despite the severe social anhedonia#and general lack of connection with others I'm just really fascinated in like.. idk. the human development of it all and like#the concept of how we're actually a million different people through the course of our lives ever evolving in different iterations and etc.#PLUS again. i love nostalgia. sometimes old peple you know might remember a shared memory or can tell you about something you forgot#or etc. like it's SUCH A COOL THING in CONCEPT but I am too socially inept generally speaking lol. which people I still talk to today are#familiar with my 'phone call once every few months' communication style. but strangers would just be like... wtf. And I don't blame them#Sure I literally cannot change the physical health + brain issues i have - but also I know enough to not put others through that lol
12 notes · View notes
shannonsketches · 3 months ago
Text
Z-Crew in a competitive escape room scenario in which they have to use teams but Vegeta and Bulma are not allowed to team up for several reasons so they both immediately call dibs on Gohan but he teams up with Piccolo while they’re arguing over who gets him so Geets volunteers Goku to Bulma’s team and picks up Krillin and runs away before she can say no
12 notes · View notes
randomwriteronline · 1 year ago
Text
Ko-Wahi was a short variety of generally not necessarily pleasant things: it was desolate, cold, harsh, and - when the winds didn't rush after one another through the icy peaks with low howling shrieks, cutting through the frigid aether like claws of an enormous Rahi reaching out to grasp any wayward Matoran foolish enough to dare wander in its territory - it was abnormally quiet.
So it reasoned that if Kopaka, Toa of Ice and Hating Being Around People, was not found anywhere else, he had to have secluded himself to a place that at the very least resembled the environment he had first felt at home in.
He didn't even flinch at the rush of air that accompanied the stomps which suddenly stopped by his side.
"You're late," he only commented.
The jovial jab Pohatu had ready for him froze in his throat, and he tilted his head slightly in genuine confusion: "Late?" he repeated.
"I expected you to be here five minutes ago," Kopaka replied.
"You were expecting... Me?"
"Of course I was," the other replied matter-of-factly: "If there's something I can depend on, it's the fact you'll chase me down to the ends of the silver sea just because."
The Toa of Stone blinked quickly a few times, eventually smirking back: "And if there's something I can depend on, it's that I'll always find you somewhere snowy and deserted."
He then leaned a little closer and proceeded to add, in a goofier tone: "Like your heart."
The gentle elbow punted in his side made him snicker as he successfully evaded it the first time; he cackled a bit louder when the second jab actually hit.
His friend did not dignify his amusement with any verbal response. Instead, he extended his finger.
Pohatu followed where it was pointing, staring at the same vast expanse of white he had just sped through (luckily without having to skid through any frozen snow - perhaps one of the very few things he certainly did not miss about the island of Mata Nui), and found nothing.
At first.
His pinprick pupils, so used to the desert sun, struggled a little more, trying to tighten even harder or widen ever so slightly: even with the clouds shielding his eyes from the sunbeams turned blinding as they were reflected on the candid coat of snow, the uniformity of the colors confused and unified all that supposedly existed before him with only few exceptions. There was snow, snow, snow, more snow, a leftover Visorak web, even more snow, another patch of snow, something looking vaguely disgusting half covered in snow, some more snow, a lance of light reflected from a point just outside the clouds' range, a vast amount of snow, a smaller amount of snow, snow, snow, and one last puff of snow over there. Riveting!
But Kopaka seldom pointed at nothing at all just to stretch out his finger; and once he truly focused on the exact location he was indicating, Pohatu saw.
He saw a jagged thing, sharp end splintered and jutting towards the sky like a blade, ever so slightly greyer than the pallor surrounding it; he saw its missing half laying mournfully among the powdery ground, defeated, cracked, open wide.
He saw its entrails, eroded by the weather, far too small to properly distinguish one object from the other from this distance - still they glittered grey and blue in the lack of color as if to remind in silent screams of their existence, once, as tools and furniture and inventions of scholars, before they'd found themselves abandoned in the wake of their master's leave as strange crystalline gore only partially hidden away in the haste of a half hearted burial.
He saw dozens of the jagged corpse's kind - once pillars, columns, immense bastions, now nothing more than ruins. Enormous animals frozen in place, never to thaw awake once more.
He saw frail, beautiful exoskeletons awaiting with such tiredness to be crushed, replaced by larvae in the bowels of which knowledge would thrive.
The wind passed between them without strength, not even lifting a snowflake.
"Breath-taking, isn't it," Kopaka murmured.
Pohatu nodded in silence.
They simply stood there for a long time, side by side, looking upon the carcasses of Ko-Metru's knowledge towers.
Looking upon what was left of a city of legends.
There had never been a Matoran called Kopaka, in the Turaga's tales.
He had never competed with Ehrye as they rushed to run errands for the seers in the hopes of one day being allowed to stand beside them at the top of those magnificent crystal constructions, spending days pondering and reading stars, uncovering the secrets of the future to the point of turning the very idea of tomorrow into such a mundane thing; he had never known Nuju, never looked at him with awe, or respect, or burning envy. He had never walked those streets, or skied down those slopes, or travelled to the Colosseum inside of a protodermis chute.
And yet he had found his chest aching as he had listened to those descriptions, from a nostalgia that wasn't his own. As though Vakama and his stories had handed him a coal that had long singed the Turaga's hand, still weakly sizzling, that now burned his palm in turn.
Mata Nui had been all he'd ever known as far as he was concerned. There had been nothing before; and if there had been, it wasn't the land the Matoran had been forced away from.
Yet despite knowing as much, despite the attempts to soothe the dull pain that had no place in his logical mind, in the long last hours he'd gotten to spend on the chiling peaks surrounding Mount Ihu the Toa of Ice had been unable to keep himself from wandering away from the material world into absentminded daydreams, trying to construct a memory that had never been there, a life he had never lived.
He had imagined Ko-Metru many times. He had imagined Metru Nui as a whole many times, the orderly archives, the silvery canals, the smoky furnaces, the dangling cables, the unmoving statues - a world for smaller eyes (like his never had been) to see. He had imagined the Colosseum, its inner mechanisms, even the Vahki guards, despite their presence being nothing but an annoyance at best and a source of uneasiness and dread and outright danger at worst. He had imagined himself getting in trouble with them often - who would they have been, to tell him what to do? What made them any different from a Bohrok?
He had imagined them often, but he had never seen them. Never whole. Never alive.
As he stared at what remained of a city of seers, he ached to have been there. Maybe he would have understood better. Maybe it would have hurt more. Maybe it would have felt more like home.
But would he have noticed? Any of the beauty, the lack of strife? Would he have liked a life such as this, spent either pondering on who knows what, or reading pages of history before they were even written, or running around tirelessly for people who did both former and latter? Would this sight have stirred something deep in him now, or would his amnesia have kept his feelings at a distance?
His chest hurt. Something inside it ached terribly, pushing hard against his muscle and metal, like a fish suddenly rushing to break the still frozen surface of a lake in a bout of claustrophobia.
He felt strange, uncomfortable.
Like something misplaced.
Kopaka's eyes wandered over the crystal towers, suddenly overwhelmed. He let out a shuddering, watery breath, as quiet as he could.
He needed not worry about being heard.
Pohatu was too enthralled by the sight before them to notice his momentary frailty.
He gazed on, unable to tear his his eyes from what his brother regarded as an enormous grave he could not mourn properly, and beheld only a thing of beauty.
It was not the vast expanse of Po-Wahi's desert, nor the infinite lushness of Le-Wahi's jungles, the burnt forests of Ta-Wahi, the Ga-Wahi reefs, the cavernous labyrinths of Onu-Wahi - it could not even compare to the frigid landscape of Ko-Wahi despite all their similarities, and he could tell from a first glance.
Ko-Metru and its siblings could have never been what the Koro of Mata Nui had been - they were not a breathing nook interwoven in the world around them: they were carefully constructed bubbles, encased, entrapped within themselves, the wild nature that once had run through it tamed carefully only to cry out despite its weakened form once the binds upon it had been snapped to pieces and left to rot.
It was not beautiful in the way he knew a land to be; it was not open and grand to the point of being frightening. It was shut on itself, broken, a pale imitation of what it had been.
And yet he found it all so gorgeous.
It had embarrassed him at first - not feeling. Remaining still and unfazed as the Turaga had longingly described what the Toa of Stone should have regarded as home, a field of statues tirelessly carved by artisans of his people. He had struggled to imagine it properly, managing only hazy scorches of some undefined place, like a mirage in the desert; and hearing his brothers and sisters wonder aloud, so curious, of how they would have expected their Metru to be, he'd been all but mortified at his own lackluster enthusiasm.
Had he really grown so self centered? All the world seemed to feel as though it had only started existing with his birth upon that fateful shore.
A city of legends on the other side of the sea... He could not have ever pictured it.
But now he was there, walking upon its streets, traveling across its lands, and it looked nothing like it had been described: it looked shattered and lost, and broken, and rusted, and standing still where it had once stood so proud and shining only to spite the cruelty of time that wanted it to bend and turn leveled.
Pohatu had lost himself between scattered remains of monumental statues, details sanded down until unrecognizable, or filled with what little life could make its home in such a crevice. He has searched between the broken Kanohi nobody had ever melted down again, seeing his and his siblings' likenesses over and over and over and over, he had followed broken cables back to the towers from which they had once served a purpose, raced along empty canals to make a sense of them, peeked into tunnels the roofs of which had been torn open like dissected anthills.
Metru Nui had never been whole, not for him.
It had always been this gorgeous wreck, this beautiful ruined landscape. He could not imagine it as anything less; he could not see it as anything mournful, or dead, or ugly.
Each toppled building was where it should have been. Each destroyed spire was exactly as the Great Spirit had intended it to be.
Such a frail, stubborn, lovely, wild thing.
A tragedy and a celebration.
Glowing brighter than the twin suns with every ounce of its incomplete, breath-taking beauty.
Kopaka felt something tug very gently at his arm. When he turned, he noticed Pohatu still hadn't taken his eyes away from the shimmering remains of the towers.
"Did you want to show me this?" the Toa asked, quietly, quietly.
His friend looked back to the sight before them and swallowed a heavy knot in his throat: "I did," he replied.
The grip on his limb tightened ever so slightly.
Comfortingly.
"Thank you." Pohatu whispered.
Kopaka did not answer.
They looked on.
68 notes · View notes
d4ydream-girl · 3 months ago
Text
seeing ppl be actually upset over the main channel layout change is lk annoying me... you know smosh isn't just ian and anthony right? there are other cast members for a reason and it's unfair to expect them to center main around ianthony forever. the rest of the cast deserve to not be confined to pit games and the pod!!
19 notes · View notes
plebplush · 2 months ago
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I recently rewatched gravity falls like im sure everyone else has these past couple months. apparently my partner had never seen it despite us both being the prime demographic at time of airing. they enjoyed it so much we were both hurt there was no more.
we both understand why there can never be a season 3 but the bittersweet "summer is over and we can never come back here" hit more like 500 freight trucks straight to the heart than I remembered...
something about a place you can only remember :/
10 notes · View notes