No but. Blitzø BEGGING Stolas to not take the book away with tears in his eyes. Completely genuinely swearing he will do anything to keep it.
Think about it. That business is literally the only thing Blitzø has in his life. It's something that's entirely HIS. He was NOT born into it, like with the circus (and even there everyone thought he was useless) and, based on what Striker told him in season 1, I assume that imps have it BAD, like he wasn't supposed to make much out himself. But he did. Without any help, without anyone by his side. I.M.P. is the only thing reminding Blitzø that he is capable of something, ANYTHING, despite what everyone silently told him from the moment he was born. That's not the only thing though. Because of I.M.P., Blitzø has Millie and Moxxie. They are the only ones who look up to him and the fact that they are always by his side, granted because he pays them to be but still, makes Blitzø a better person, or at least it makes him WANT to become a better person. He fucks up, yeah, but with a backstory as tragic as his? Completely logical. He lost literally EVERYTHING, his job, his family, his only friend because of an accident HE caused and he knows there's no way around that guilt for the rest of his life. Can you blame him for being afraid of getting close to someone? He thinks he's poison.
So when he thought Stolas was taking away his only way to conduct his business, when he thought he was going to lose not only I.M.P., the greatest achievement of his life, but also by extension Millie and Moxxie, he panicked. It was the burning circus all over again. Only now he can do something. He can try to do ANYTHING.
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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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my love for palestine is stronger than my hatred for zionists. my love for palestine is stronger than my hatred for zionists. my love for palestine is stronger than my hatred for zionists.
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"People can be good. You can be good"
Snow had so many chances to pick the right choices. So many.
I love this scene because he was so genuine here. The way his eyes were so desperate for answers about who he truly is, the way he was openly vulnerable to the person he trusted, his family. And you only have that often with Snow. If only in another world he didn't let his thoughts consume him. If only in another world he believed there was good inside everyone. If only in another world he retired with Lucy Gray in the woods. 😣
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It doesn't matter if that fic has been in your drafts for years and is now self-indulgent to the point of parody. If Steven Moffatt is allowed to do it professionally, you are allowed to do it for fun.
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THOUGHT GAINED: INFERNAL ENGINES
PROBLEM
The world is ending. You know it, your neighbor knows it, the dealer knows it, the jailer knows it, the king and all his men know it. All one has to do is look around to see it— the future is curdling into something pale and incorporeal. The infernal machine that is this stupid world is going to blow, sooner rather than later. So what are you doing? Why are you still here? Why is anyone still here?
SOLUTION
You are doing the only thing worth doing. You are living. *Why,* you ask? Try and remember now. Remember your mother’s hand on your shoulder. Remember the taste of a fresh catch. Remember the times when you were kind to the dogs in the valley and they did not bare their teeth. Remember the weight of a child on your shoulders. Remember the stars throwing their light against the wall of sodium and smog. Remember singing until your throat was raw. Remember crying just as loudly and publicly, and the gentleness with which someone opened your curled fist and pressed a handkerchief into your palm. Crying, laughing, running, eating, screaming, haunting, loving, fighting, fighting, fighting. The fight fuels you, and you fuel the fight. You run yourself ragged just for a chance to keep running. You never stop. You cannot stop. The world depends on it. *You* are the infernal engine. You are the world. And, simply put: you want to live.
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hold still!
// quick and messy max doodle since i finallyyyyyy had some free time to spare. don’t judge the hands please and thank you 🙏🏻
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You’ve done nothing wrong by eating. The guilt and discomfort will pass so please be kind to yourself.
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me: i should work on my mini-comic
also me: have you considered tim in seifuku? tim in GAKURAN?
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