#really hit home
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kvtnisseverdeen · 2 years ago
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Brendan Fraser wins the award for Best Actor, “The Whale” at the 28th Annual Critics’ Choice Awards
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caralara · 2 years ago
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I went to a lot of shows, and I’ve seen him up close many times now, so when I say he was extra happy and joyful and cheeky yesterday I know what I’m talking about. But the thing that got me most was just, he looked so very comfortable on stage, so close to us, like he genuinely felt like “yes, this moment right here, this is where I belong, singing and smiling back into all these faces beaming up at me, feeling the connection so strong between us” and you could feel how much fun he had, with us and with his band and just doing what he loves. Man. This is such a special relationship we have with him. He loves us, just as much as we love him.
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chloesimaginationthings · 5 months ago
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FNAF Phone guy was wild for saying that to Michael..
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tacc0yak1 · 5 months ago
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grandpa doodles before i skidaddle back to work….
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re-frigeratorlight · 2 years ago
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like ofc the love triangle but also INVISIBLE STRING? my tears RICOCHET? THE LAST GREAT AMERICAN DYNASTY?!
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casualavocados · 11 months ago
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#me reliving my 12-year-old adhd experience while watching this like: ow 💔
PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS 1.01 • I Accidentally Vaporize My Pre-Algebra Teacher
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puppetmaster13u · 5 months ago
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Prompt 333
I once more believe Battinson Batman needs to be given a child. Or multiple. Multiple children. I am also once more rotating Ghosts Have Wings Au. 
So Batman, still early in his whole vigilante career ends up busting a shipment, nothing too surprising there. Pretty usual honestly. Except for what was in one of the crates already open. Because it looks like some sort of gemstones but… perfectly spherical. Strange. Suspicious. 
But it’s also late, er, early in the morning, and the GCPD is notoriously corrupt, so like, he’s not going to just leave the weird gemstones, each about the size of a plum or so. (Dear Gotham he’s apparently hungry, and might inwardly vow to never let anyone realize what his tired mind decided to use as measurement) 
So he, unknowingly spurred on by more than just a slight bit of ecto contamination, takes the strange spheres back home. Just puts them in his pockets and heads back to the manor that they moved back into after the whole Riddler mess. (He even found a cool cave! With a bunch of terrifying bats, but they made a glass separator! For safety!) 
But in Bruce’s defense of forgetting about them, he’s more than a little tired and hungry and just wants to sleep for a bit, y’know? So maybe he forgets about the gems as he falls asleep in the chair in the cave (Alfred was not pleased!) until he starts digging around for them. Erm. Did they fall out somewhere?? There’s no holes in his belt pockets… 
And maybe these sort of things shouldn’t slip his mind, the spheres had felt Weird with a capital W, but he gets forced to a circus and there’s an… accident. So maybe he pushed it away as not important because there’s now an angry grieving eight-year old living with him and he’s panickedly reading any and all sort of parenting books he can get a hold of because he has no clue what he’s doing. 
Yeah, maybe his back is itching like crazy no matter what he tries, and maybe he threw up the other day, but it’s fine. This is fine. 
….
Oh dear Gotham those are feathers, this is not fine- ALFREEED!
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htub · 1 year ago
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I really like that they made Jor-El speak Kryptonian and Clark unable to understand him. The whole "aliens speak English" thing that happens in every goddamn media has bothered me all my life. Ik sometimes Clark just gets zapped in the brain for insta-second language but that always felt like a cheap shortcut.
Jor-El had a lot on his mind when he set up that magic spaceship okay. The world was ending and he was trying to do as much as he could before time ran out so he could be there for his son. He was rushing. He likely didn't consider Kal would be raised with a whole different language and not know any Kryptonian nor have anyone to teach him.
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londoneh · 8 months ago
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Goofy lookin’ clock.
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*❤️‍🔥*
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solarisfortuneia · 8 months ago
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— 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐬.
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and the smell of camphor dancing in the wind.
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✦ info: he didn't know he'd lose you so soon. (come back, please. even if it is just for five more minutes.)
✦ featuring: alhaitham.
✦ warnings: angst, character death (reader), heartache, 1.2k words, somewhat proof-read.
✦ notes: i cried so goddamn hard writing this. why is my first work after hiatus pain. why did i pick up the angst wip. but!! i'm writing again, so that's good. (more notes at the end.)
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he didn’t know that it was your last day together. 
he didn’t know that the smile you gave him that afternoon, your eyes sparkling like sunlight upon the serene waves of the ocean, would be the last he’d ever see. that the playful light in your gaze would fade so very soon, slipping through his fingers like sand.
he didn’t know that last night would be the last time he held you close while you drifted off to sleep. he didn’t know that today would be the last time he’d wake up with you.
he didn’t think he’d lose you like this. 
he didn’t think he wouldn’t be able to save you from that blow. 
“please, please,”  he begs, both to you and to whatever force that is just barely holding you together. “just stay with me for five more minutes, please. until i can get you somewhere.” 
the rain soaks him to the bone, clothes and hair sticking to his skin. your lips stay motionless, eyes shut.
“wake up, please,”  he bargains. “you can have all the five minutes of extra sleep you want later, i promise. just—”  his vision blurs, and something shines on the ground before it is gone, swallowed by damp earth, lost amidst drops of falling rain. 
desperately, he tears off parts of his traveling cloak to staunch the bleeding. deep inside, he knows it is futile. he knows your wound is too great. he knows what lies ahead. but he cannot help but press the cloths to your wound and pray. 
please, please tell me it’ll be okay. 
please stay with me, beloved. i’ll read you all the books in the world. i’ll sleep in with you everyday, even if we end up whiling away our time. 
please. stay. stay with me. i can’t lose you yet.  
“— just wake up, beloved.” 
by some miracle, your eye flutters. just a bit. just enough to set hope ablaze, just enough for the grip on his heart to loosen a tiny bit. he buries his face in your shoulder, resting his head against your neck, uncaring of the blood that stains his clothes. your blood. on his clothes. his hands. everywhere. 
no. no. this can’t be happening.
he feels you strain beneath him, your unwounded arm gently, weakly brushing his back. he jolts upright, eyes trained on your face. you send a frail smile his way. he clasps your face softly as you nuzzle into his palm.
“alhaitham—” 
his full name. archons, how long has it been since you called him that?  
“— take good care of yourself, okay?” you tell him, chest heaving, your fingertips touching a tear on his cheeks. “i love you. so much.” 
those are the last words he hears fall from your lips. he presses a kiss to your forehead, to your eyelids, and to your cheeks and to your lips, over and over and over until he feels your breath slow, hoping they’ll say what he knows he cannot manage to choke out.
i love you. 
he stays there next to you for who knows how long, holding you until the rain slows and a faint rainbow smiles in the sky.
until he can’t smell camphor anymore.
every person has their curiosities. 
they’re just the little traits that set them apart from others, the things that make them tick just a little bit differently, the things that make them, them.
for instance, someone may be obsessed with collecting tiny furniture, while another eats the crusts off their sandwich before actually consuming it. someone may have an affinity for the most niche aspects of linguistics, while another can accurately predict the next raindrop that slides down a window pane.
after all, no two people are exactly alike, are they?
alhaitham knows he’s got his fair share of these curiosities himself. his aversion to soup and all things that resemble it, to name one. and with you, he’d noticed two things. 
number one: the scent of camphor that seems to linger on every inch of your person. 
he’d caught whiff of it almost immediately the first time you met. you were but one of his juniors in the akademiya, filled with bright-eyed curiosity and anxiety to match. you had tripped over a stair and bumped into his table in the library, bringing the mountain of books in your arms crashing down.
and with subsequent coincidental meetings, he learnt that the subtle scent of camphor dancing in the air meant you weren’t far away. 
you were, unfortunately, one of the poor souls who seemed to be cursed with constantly recurring minor illnesses, and almost always walked about with a stuffy nose. and so, you always carried a small disc of camphor in a handkerchief, as well as in your pocket.
you swore up and down, left, right and center that sniffing the vapors helped make breathing easier.
‘it’s my grandmother’s remedy, alhaitham! camphor always works wonders. well, that and eucalyptus oil.”
alhaitham may not know the validity of your claim or the legitimacy of the cure, but he knew to never, ever question a grandmother’s remedy. that, and he’d much rather refrain from starting a back-and-forth about something so small.
and number two: your neverending pleas of different variations of ‘just five more minutes!’ 
“five more minutes, ‘haitham. please.” you’d whine grumpily when he woke you up to start your day. “let me sleep in for five more minutes.” 
“five more minutes, habibi,” you’d ask when he put down the story you’d requested he read out to you before bedtime. “read me the part where she finds the music box?”
“five more minutes, baby,” is what you’d tell him when he asks how much longer you’d take getting ready. “you can’t rush perfection!”
those five more minutes were never five minutes long. 
but he’d always, always indulged you and those pleading eyes of yours. as stoic as he appeared to be, you lived in his heart. of course he could never deny you anything under the sun.
alhaitham remembers that silly little song you sang over and over, the one you’d learnt from a kid in the bazaar. he’d taken you to see one of nilou’s performances, and, friendly soul that you were, you’d struck up a conversation with some of the eager audience members before the play. 
“oh, how i wish i was a bird flying free,
i’d see the world, every mountain and every sea!
oh, how i wish i was a cloud in the sky,
wouldn’t you like to wave to me as i pass by?”
you’d hum that rhyme on every idle afternoon.
loss is inevitable. he knows that, with how logical and rational and straightforward he is. he’d lost his parents, but he was far too young to remember. he’d lost his grandmother, but she passed in her sleep of old age, serene and wise.
but you? he didn’t think you’d leave him this soon. a singular wish sits in his soul, making its home in his bones. 
a wish that you’d come back, somehow. 
he wishes you gave him five more minutes, just as he always did.  but he knows that you could’ve given him five more hours, five more days, five more years and five more decades and it would still not be enough time spent with you. 
a blue feathered bird comes to perch on his shoulder, interrupting his musings just as he raises his face to the sky. he sees the heart shaped cloud that floats idly above sumeru city.
 he thinks of the rhyme again, and something in him tells him to wave. and so he does. a scent so familiar lingers, faintly brushing his nose in the wind that picks up.
“alhaitham, it's time to go.”  kaveh calls his name softly.
 alhaitham doesn't move. “five more minutes,”  he says, echoing your favorite phrase. “i smell camphor in the breeze.” 
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✦ extra notes: my alhaitham characterization for this fic stems from how i believe that when alhaitham is attached, he's attached. so i focused more on that, and less of all that rationality and whatnot. this one loves deeply, yk?
that camphor thing is a real grandma remedy in our household (my mom would tie some in a hanky and put some under my pillow and still to this day reminds me to do it when i'm sick) which is what originally sparked the idea for this
when i'd initially started this wip, i didn't expect it go this way. usually i write with my brain, but i think i wrote this one with my fingers working faster than i can think hsjhsj so sorry if it's kinda out of place lmao but yk what? i'm happy with it still even though i feel like it doesn't have my usual quality.
thanks for reading.
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spicyraeman · 7 months ago
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outlaw x citygirl who keeps stealing her hat
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faragonart · 8 months ago
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We interrupt this program to bring you...
Echo
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lunarwednesday · 17 hours ago
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Marcille and her Papa
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crestomancer-art · 2 years ago
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*slides in 2 days late for Maid day* 🎀✨
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lilithofpenandbook · 2 months ago
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Something I can't stop thinking about is that Snape began the series being perfectly okay
He was actually at his best. He'd spent ten whole years in Hogwarts without the Marauders and before Harry Potter walked in.
Of course it wouldn't have been easy for him to adjust, but he did. And I just can't help but think of those first months where the other teachers got to know him, and got to realise that this boy needed them, needed their help, and took care of him. I can't help but think of how they promised him that it's okay, it's over, everyone's safe and he's not what he thinks he is. He's okay.
Like, for ten years he would have been happy. He had friends. He had a job. He had a home. Hogwarts was his home.
And then Harry Potter came and everything went wrong.
Can you imagine, him seeing Harry's face for the first time? After so many years of actually being content and happy, suddenly he sees James Potter's face, Lily Evans' eyes. Suddenly he's reminded of Voldemort who will return now, and now he's got a ticking clock, a countdown warning him that that's it, time's up, everything you've built in these ten years are soon going to break. And then come the events of the first and second year. Okay, so they're chaotic and stressful, but it's fine, they're all stressed, they're all in this together.
Then it's Harry's third year.
And that's when everything falls apart.
Remus Lupin, one of his abusers and a serious gaslight, is here in the job he wanted, and acting like everything's fine between them while simultaneously disrespecting him and forgetting to take the potion and being a huge risk to them all. Sirius Black, one of the two main abusers, is on the loose. And no one is ever gonna believe him about Lupin, are they? Suddenly it's Lupin's home. Lupin's safe space. But what about Snape? Do the past 13 years mean nothing? It seems so. And in the end, he has a complete breakdown because it's all coming down.
Then comes the goblet of fire. Okay, normal, right? But then there's moody. And there's the visiting schools. And then there's Kararoff who will not leave him alone! And then...
And then Harry Potter comes with the dead body of a teenage boy, crying and screaming that Voldemort's back.
And now Snape knows that time is up and things only get worse. Everything happens after that, from spying to dealing with that wretched Umbridge who's trying to destroy the school.
And then...
And then he has to kill Dumbledore.
And that when it all ends.
All he built in the past 16 years....
All the promises that they'd never leave him...
That they'd always look after him...
That they know he's not that person he used to be...
That everything will be okay because he has them to look after him...
They mean nothing now.
He's not okay anymore.
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secretlythatsme · 5 months ago
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i feel like Most dpxdc crossover fics have dp and dc in the same universe which like, is still fun don't get me wrong, but there's so many missed opportunities with them being in fully separate universes!
i'm specifically thinking of an au where the dcu is fictional in danny's universe like in ours. so instead of him being dropped in a random city, he's fully isekaid into the dcu and has to deal with the implications of that. danny not being a dc fan could def be interesting, but i personally really like the idea of him being a fan! i think he'd be really into characters like martian manhunter or the superfam since they're more directly related to space, but i think he'd have appreciation for the common dpxdc characters like the batfam too.
but anyway i'm just thinking of dc fan danny who somehow gets dropped into the dcu and is immediately clocked as Different and Knowing by literally every hero/vigilante there. damian screams bloody murder at him and danny just gives him this look like "i know what you've been through and you're just a kid so i won't hold it against you even though that was pretty mean" and damian is sooo pissed cause what the fuck does this guy know?? danny looks at jason like he's seeing robin and not red hood,,, he sees batman one day and gives him the most begrudging respectful and also highly judgemental glare. danny seeing clark on the street and immediately noping and turning around like no not dealing with superman today no thanks. danny randomly happens to be walking next to wally and tries to get him into a walking race. danny who keeps looking up at the sky whenever the watchtower is above him.
i just love the idea of danny walking around knowing way too much, not even necessarily being Powerful at this point, he just knows! too! much! and every hero who meets him feels completely exposed like how does this random kid give everyone the heebie jeebies.. what does he know.. how much does he know... why does he know... etcetc.
idk i love casually creepy danny
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