#dont ignore me
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bwunnishit · 11 months ago
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wingedsol · 1 year ago
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1989 is percy jackson’s album and this is why
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🩵 baking 1989 blue sweets
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🩵 new york aesthetic !! 🗽
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🩵 the ocean !! 🌊
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🩵 spending time w friends
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🩵
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hamham-moments · 2 years ago
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multi-fandom-lunatic · 4 months ago
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@geo-rosey its your fault i see '#dead gay wizards' on my feed
AND DONT YOU IGNORE THIS GEO I WILL FIND YOU-
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therapyforrent · 1 year ago
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Tempted to do a face reveal but I don't know if anyone is interested? I don't mind showing my face at all. Is that something you guys would want???
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mychemicalbrromance · 1 month ago
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Guys ive been reading peak
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bryqe · 5 months ago
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what type of content should i post? it’s summer and i’ll be probably doing so many things ‘cause it’s a special time for me and my transition and here in the mediterranean spanish south where i live everything is beautiful if you look with the right eyes. i think lifestyle pics? also my art/art in general? random and archive pics? FASHION? (that’s obvious it’s my life motto) but i’m open to recc & suggestions! i would love to know what inspires you the most so i try my best to have a better and better content everytime! gracias <3
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justarandomart · 3 months ago
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fine! i drew it! now i can rest and also die of shame
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crowkip · 3 months ago
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slides u some timkon wip scribbs
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hinamie · 3 days ago
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noir
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riskhour · 3 months ago
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jizzie as flynn rider and rapunzel,, ignore the shitass quality i dont know why its so bad im gonna tweak out
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the-uh-embre · 1 year ago
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i wonder if i'll run into that one irl buddy on here who uses tumblr "just for the twisted wonderland content" now that ive properly switched
also yeah that blue guy is pretty cute
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mizzyislost · 5 months ago
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youre interrupting them
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basslinegrave · 4 months ago
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pin-up
b&w originals
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shizunitis · 4 months ago
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Ghostfire Shen Yuan loyally following the lonely, undying, forgotten Luo Binghe from the original outline.
They never even met.
Shen Yuan had died long before Luo Binghe’s story was set to start. Abandoned by his System, he was left wandering the realms, searching for anything to latch onto, anything to stave off the darkness encroaching on his consciousness whenever he stopped. He keeps himself entertained with little jokes and references that will never reach anyone. At least back home, there were other people on the opposite side of his screen reacting, seeing. Paying attention.
He never would have thought he’d miss the times he was perceived by others. He’d give anything, though. Anything.
He stumbles upon the protagonist as he’s ascending the stairs of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect for the first time. Dressed in rags and heaving with the effort, Luo Binghe is exactly as Shen Yuan had pictured: a little bun, soft and kind and so very brave.
The excitement wears off soon enough. When the tea ceremony is held, Shen Yuan watches, hopelessly trying to stop the cup from hitting Binghe’s head. He lunges at Shen Jiu; let him be identified and exorcised, at least he would have done something with himself, however useless. It doesn’t work. Of course not—nothing can come between Luo Binghe and his fate.
Shen Yuan thinks about leaving. Many times. But every time he considers the possibility of going back to wandering the world, or just passing on… Well. There’s still a lot to see, isn’t there? It will get better. It will.
Only, it doesn’t. Not really.
There’s no harem; there’s no warm comfort offered to Luo Binghe by a sympathetic beauty, no wedding celebrations, no moments of gentle companionship, however brief, however superficial. There’s no camaraderie with the demons underlings, his generals, his allies; it’s all casual cruelty and dismissals, before it’s violence and subjugation.
There’s no joy. There’s no hope. There’s no ‘better’.
Something is wrong, that’s clear. Something is wrong, and Shen Yuan has no one to blame.
This is clearly not the Proud Immortal Demon Way he knows.
Centuries later, when Luo Binghe begs for the heavens to allow him to die, Shen Yuan hears. When Luo Binghe rages against the passage of time, alone in the wreckage of his palace, left behind by everyone he’d ever known, Shen Yuan accompanies him. When Luo Binghe lies down in the Holy Mausoleum and refuses to get up, Shen Yuan waits until he opens his eyes again and leaves the palace.
They end up in a hidden realm so filled with Yin Energy that Shen Yuan can channel it to manipulate his form into that of his former body. It’s not detectable by the living, but it’s there. He feels stronger, too. He can walk, float, fly, interact with what few other ghosts they encounter.
Still, Luo Binghe cannot see him.
Luo Binghe doesn’t talk much. Well, that makes sense, he was never in the habit of talking to himself, but still. It’s lonely.
They end up in a town where a diviner takes one look at Luo Binghe and offers him a free reading. Shen Yuan can’t enter her tent, so he waits outside.
She tells Luo Binghe of the little hanger-on he’s got. A powerful one, too, though he’s still getting used to his powers. He’s been here for a long time, she says. Since he was a child. He comes from far away—farther than even the most distant star.
Luo Binghe begins talking to him. Shen Yuan isn’t sure why, but he’s not complaining!
Luo Binghe also begins meditating again, trying to soothe the damage done by Xin Mo over the centuries. For every meal, he places a few fruits across from him on a plate he’d made himself, which he eats only after finishing his own dish. He makes space by his side whenever he walks on a narrow road. He stops at every landmark and tells stories about them, always starting the same way.
“Do you remember when…” becomes Shen Yuan’s favourite phrase.
One night, Luo Binghe sighs and looks across the table. Shen Yuan places himself so that he’s in Luo Binghe’s focus.
“What is it, Binghe?”
Luo Binghe doesn’t answer him, of course. Still, it feels like a conversation, when he says:
“I wish I knew your name.”
Shen Yuan frets. He’s been trying to manipulate the physical world, but he never got the hang of it. He’d tried drawing in sand, with water, just pushing things off shelves. And yet, nothing.
“I’m sorry, I wish—” he tries, but Luo Binghe is already talking again.
“I wonder if we ever crossed paths when you were alive.” He’s expressed this thought more than once. Shen Yuan never likes to think about how they’ve missed each other, how they’d been set up for failure from the start. “I wonder if we would have been friends.”
Shen Yuan scoffs. Of course not. Him and the protagonist? No way.
But—those cold star eyes, blindly searching for him, trying to land on him… They make him want to say, I would have liked that.
He reaches a hand out to touch Luo Binghe’s forhead. He’s taken to doing it whenever Luo Binghe broods, or makes a silly joke Shen Yuan wishes he didn’t find funny. It’s soothing.
He wishes Binghe could feel it.
When his finger touches the demon mark, it blazes. Luo Binghe gasps, that heavy gaze settling on Shen Yuan’s face.
Shen Yuan startles, and jumps away.
“No! Wait!”
Shen Yuan hesitates. Luo Binghe is looking around himself, eyes begging for even a wisp of Shen Yuan’s shadow.
He can’t deny Luo Binghe this.
He can’t deny himself this.
He reaches out again. This time, he cups Luo Binghe’s cheeks. When those eyes clear of panic and widen in awe, he whispers, softly, “Shen Yuan. My name is Shen Yuan.”
Luo Binghe looks like he’s been handed a treasure so precious he’s afraid to touch it. He hesitates, raising his hands in careful starts and stops, before taking Shen Yuan’s face in them, gently caressing the soft, cold skin of his face. His eyes dance with the haste he takes in memorising Shen Yuan’s features.
Then, he smiles. Helpless and weak and so, so precious. Shen Yuan has not seen hope so bright in Luo Binghe’s face since that fateful day on Cang Qiong Mountain.
“Hello, Shen Yuan.”
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justaz · 5 months ago
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merlin who uses his magic everyday in ways that he doesn’t realize isn’t normal. magic helping him see in the dark so he can find his way in the woods or dark rooms with no problem. connecting with the woods around him so he always knows where he is and whats in the general vicinity which allows him to sense bandits just before they attack. using magic to keep warm in the cold or to cool down in the heat. confident and willing to go toe to toe with anyone bc he knows that regardless of what they throw at him, he could always win bc he could just use magic.
then somehow someway (post magic reveal) a sorcerer takes away merlin’s magic. or well just locks it away ig. but anyways merlin doesn’t have this part of him anymore and is left feeling empty, exposed, and vulnerable. arthur, the knights, and merlin going on a quest for answers to their problem and a way to get merlins magic back. but. but. but merlin is all jumpy and he’s rambling more than ever and is often reaching out to grab onto someone (usually arthur) and everyone’s confused and then they get ambushed and merlin freezes in the middle of the path like a deer. he’s watching everything go down around him with wide eyes until he’s targeted and one of the knights have to rush in to save him. afterward merlin is constantly holding someone and his grip is rather tight. he keeps looking around, his eyes scanning the trees around them over and over. when they try and settle down for the night, merlin wont leave the camp without an escort or two and when they’re trying to go to sleep, merlin is flinching at every noise in the woods around them and ends up shuffling over toward the person closest to him and laying pressed up against them.
arthur opening his mouth to tease and call him a coward when the word registers in his mind and he realizes that that’s what he’s actually seeing, merlin scared and defenseless. he ofc doesn’t realize the true depth of it all, i mean he knows merlin is missing his magic but he doesn't know that magic has always been a part of merlin, it makes him him. he’s had magic since he was born, he’s never known life without it. as he is now, he feels bare and exposed and blind and deaf and terrified. the knights are his defense rn and for the past few years, merlins been their protector so its a complete reversal of everything he’s ever known. he’s scared. arthur bites his tongue and lets merlin hold onto his arm and snuggle up close at night for some form of comfort and security. he doesn’t tease or mock and responds to his ramblings of fear with a level of gentleness the knights weren’t aware he even possessed. merlin slowly relaxing as arthur subtly comforts him without addressing it
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