#the only one worth fighting for

[alllovenohate7]

I’d always do anything for her. The one. The hardest thing is not seeing her everyday anymore and being able to talk to them about anything whenever we wanted. Not being able to just get a quick look to refresh the only beautiful thing in life and give me hope. Give me strength. And really just so I can look into her eyes. No words. No physical contact. I just wanted to look at the most stunning green eyes I’ll ever see. Cached in my memories are a perfect soul. Playing on repeat as it begins to rain in this quiet room. A good morning with a goddess’s smile receives a small token of my appreciation for her. I miss giving. I haven’t been able to tell her how beautiful she is. I miss her smile whenever I had a chance to remind her she looked beautiful. I made sure to remind her so she would smile. I never wanted to miss an opportunity or a chance to make her happy and make her smile. She was my first real everlasting crush and it stood firm until I fell. And I fell hard. Because I always had this feeling but now, now I was done. After this one moment that I won’t ever forget she was waking by me. Black boots, jeans, and a sweater following behind her as her hair waved with each step. The lights shining down as it god sent her. I looked at her in such awe as she walked by. As she took each step the feeling grew stronger and stronger. I felt it and I knew right away. I said to myself “wow” and I knew. My heart knew. I grew nervous. Her contagious laugh is so soft and pure, it would get me too. I miss asking, did I tell you how much you mean to me today? I miss being there to lift her up when she was down. I miss helping wipe away the tears of the strongest person I know. Shedding tears of the past I so desperately wanted to help rid of. I miss being supportive when others weren’t and didn’t want to be. I want to always be there when she was down and everything else is wrong. I want to be the one right thing in her life no matter what was going left. I want to keep her right. I want to keep her safe as she made when I was with her. Was I was with her everything feel alright. The sound of her voice could soothe me. It could heal me with just a few words. I miss talking about our future and plans being made to fulfill our dreams. I miss sharing every detail with her. I miss hearing empathy in her voice when she wanted to know if I was okay when if I wasn’t. She could give the strength and I mean strength that brings confidence with it. I want to give her everything she deserves and everything she desires yet leave nothing for myself. I want to be her crutch with her legs felt weak to carry it by herself. I want to take the weight off her shoulders and carry it as my own so she can feel free. Her presence would calm me while her spirit rejuvenated my soul. Did my heart find true love or did I let my guard down after years of healing an old wound. When she wasn’t around I felt empty. Nothing and no one person would ever come before her. There’s never been another name or person for as long I’ve loved her. Ever. The sacred meaning behind faith. I know the pain from this and I’d never do that to someone. It’s incredibly life altering and I don’t think it goes away, the real pain that follows it. I wish she could see herself through my eyes and know what I know. See what I see. And the truth in what she asks or thinks. In that moment though when I knew, I saw the next 50 years of my life and I see it with my best friend. I’d give it all up for her. More than most things in life, I miss exchanging I love you before we departed ways. It’s all I ever needed or had at times. Just to hear sometimes. To hold onto. Those three words that have an incredible meaning we don’t usually talk about. Words. Those few words have a powerful impact. Words have profound meaning and is the basis of all things. Those few words allowed me to know that I was real and that I existed. Just a few words can mean everything.

I’ll always do anything for her.

I love you.

♍️ ♉️ 🐝

[elbiotipo]

Perhaps the worst game design choice in Skyrim is when you are told to go kill nameless bandits who you can't talk to and just exist as random enemies, and then when you're fighting one they yell "I yield" and you're okay, that's fair, I'm just here to get some random sword I don't actually want to kill you and after all, the game tips say that if they yell "I yield" you can sheathe your sword and they'll stop fighting

Then you find out that's COMPLETELY FALSE, the game does NOT allow you to do that, the nameless bandits like all enemies in the game are programmed to fight to the death, and that's what you do, you fight them to death, because they have no names no lives or anything, they are there to keep attacking you and fight to the death for a chest with 124 gold and boots with a bonus to enchantment.

Or what's worse, the game makes them yell "PLEASE NO MORE" or "I YIELD" JUST as you deliver the killing blow. It would be an interesting comment on violence in videogames if it wasn't just a fakeout because the nameless bandits aren't actually coded to do anything but to fight you to death.

Okay, that's a bunch of poor game design choices, not just one.

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo being put into a situation where there is absolutely no fighting, just verbal manipulation and perception games, would be amazing to witness. We see a lot in the series how good he is at subterfuge and how he uses his perception to manipulate to great effect, so it’d be so cool to really see it put to the test even more.

Manipulation is one of the most effective tactical strategies of all time, so just imagine Leo putting this skillset of his to the full test. Imagine the boys slowly get up to busting bigger and more powerful criminals, including those with networks of crime under their belt, and a simple fight isn’t enough to take them down. For criminals like this, Leo’s skills in subterfuge would be deadly.

[grenadine-blood]

post-quarrel 💔

[ganondoodle]

got this reblog on one of my posts were i talked about being anxious about the future of the zelda series after totk and-

i even went back and unblocked them just to check my own post and check twice what they meant exactly- but i still dont know how they got to these conclusions

i never said i 'want a good uwu ganondorf' (bc that would mean hes aligned with hyrule bc thats how goodness works!!!!11!1!!!), i also dont think of any of the zeldas as 'whores' (seriously, where did that come from?? neither me nor the addition of someone agreeing with me said anything like that??? did they think bc the addition called tloz misogynistic means we think zelda is a whore????? huh???)

its also funny how they say they want zelda to stay a simple fairytale rather than have 'people like me' bc .. one point i talked about in the og post was how the evil arab thing VS good white people media likes to do so much is so normalized here that its simply seen as a simple harmless fairytale trope instead of a big underlying issue in general media and the writers might not even realize it (which is worse) bc the most 'generic' appeal is to people who dont think of it as a problem in the first place, because it is so normalized

(huh, i wonder about what kind of person that part was about .. hmmmm)

(ALSO funny they mention princess hilda as nuanced villain ... like ... wow they are so nuanced about purple haired people!!- like guess why we want a nuanced/less badly/less flat written ganondorf and what he, in particular, has not in common with other villains! its not his hair color! .... or was that point supposed to mean .. look we have one female character that is a villain, its not misogynistic! idk honestly)

(and the classic, "you just call it this/dont like it bc its not what you wanted !!!!!!!2!"1!112!!")

also funny how its 'never gonna be progressive enough' like asking for the franchise to maybe put a little more thought and nuance into their white divine right vs evil desert man simulator instead of making it worse is already asking too much

(i dont know what the last point has to do with anything??)

(also yes totk is racist, like most if not all of the franchise and a alot of other media as well, shocker- you can still like it though, i and plenty of other people are still fans of it, we just wish they did a little more with their stuff and maybe not make the racism problem WORSE)

(also yes the hyrule monarchy is also evil :))) )

(and also not so secretly so either :)) )

[bumblingbabooshka]

When the only person who might understand what happened- understand. Not sympathize or empathize or comfort you but understand what happened, isn't there anymore. Or: 'A Man Made Me Do Something I Didn't Want To', for when you can't talk about it or look it in the eye [Patreon | Commissions]

[sovamurka]

let's be honest, for very ironic reasons, official writers were not really responsible for timebomb being so good, fortiche carried most of the timebomb writing

yes, even in s1 since this is really where writers (*VERY LOUD COUGH* amanda) picked up on very delicate and deliberate details that fortiche put in s1e7, details which could be potentially explored later (as a side plot, of course *sarcasm*, we don't want to overshadow other dynamics of the show, do we?)

but especially in s2 since it's basically confirmed by pascal charrue, fortiche's co-founder, that the episode fortiche studio were most emotionally and creatively involved with in matters of writing is episode 7

which is even further confirmed by linke in the artbook where he states that episode 7 is basically a literal love letter to french culture and that he hopes fortiche is really proud of it

like... wow, the "nobody loves timebomb more than french people do" joke is actually not a joke at all

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Sasha using the title "Lord" in RiAAU after taking over Toad Tower and presumably killing Grime and stealing Barrel's Warhammer from him, and other political and military leaders assuming she's a man because, well, Sasha is a gender neutral name, so they hear Lord Sasha and assume they're talking about an adult male toad warrior. The second most powerful person in the known world and only real threat to the Leviathan reign!

Cue princess Marcy fleeing Newtopia and her father seeking refuge with his worst enemy hoping to offer information and political levarage in exchange for protection, perhaps even offering herself in marriage to transfer eventual inheritances and whatnot, and she finds out that Lord Sasha is not, indeed, a dark and domineering toad warlord, but a beautiful, terrifying girl her age that looks like her and oh god her poor little lesbian heart can barely take it.

[aethersflood]

Wild and impetuous. I expected more of the boy who bested my lord commander. Yet I see why my master covets you so. The power within you, Mythos. The potential.

[thewhizzyhead]

not really a ramble and more of a brainfart but i really do find it interesting how mercy is,,,really really similar to both ajax and fox, the two girls she replaces in the roll-calls. Like ajax she is very confrontational, quite aggressive, and quick to defend and fight, but like fox she is also quite insecure in her standing and worth in the warriors and is very eager to prove herself to them. and in my opinion, the former makes fox entrust the warriors to her in reunion square, and the latter makes ajax trust her in sick of runnin'. I dunno what this all means but um yea I just find it neat that she takes after the two characters that really got fleshed out the most compared to their movie versions!

[arahir]

god the palisades fire is going to get much worse before it gets better. if you're in a fire prone area, please have a plan for evacuation and please don't make parking your car in both lanes of the only evacuation route and leaving with your keys a part of that plan. this is agonizing to watch.

[ssaraexposs]

THE FREAKING CHILLS!

We often underestimate Ranpo's feelings for the Agency members, but he cares about all of them, as much they care about him. The ADA is a big weird family.

(I'd like to point out that Dazai's also here, meaning that Ranpo cares about him too and he sees him as one of them. "ADA never includes Dazai as one of them" JUST.SHUT.IT.)

[squeakadeeks]

theres been a few times now where ive seen someone very clearly plagiarize either a design, idea, or even rip tutorial sections verbatim to claim as their own from my work, but the issue is i simply dont have the time or energy to fight it so i cant do much, so whenever i see a new instance of it my soul is crushed for 0.2 seconds before reforming and i look verbatim like this paul rudd bit:

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

Howdy, Syn! Hope you’re doing well. I’ve got a fun little ask for you:

If you’ve got some spare time on your hands, I was wondering if there was a little (non-spoilery) detail in—well, any of your stories, I’m obsessed with all of them—that you really enjoy but don’t think anyone’s picked up on yet. If there is, I’d love to hear any ramblings on it 👀

Have a good one!

This ask is ages old but I’m working on chipping away at my backlog little by little. Since I’m in a pez dispenser debris kick right now, let’s look at that.

I honest to God can’t remember if I’ve discussed this before, so sorry if it’s redundant, but one of the main points of pez dispenser debris is that the conflict is Man v. Self to the exclusion of all else.

Like, to an extent, there’s a secondary conflict of Man v. Society, but that 1) primarily (but not entirely) exists in Izuku’s past and 2) feeds into the Man v. Self conflict by being the primary driver behind both Izukus’ actions.

I decided to eschew any kind of genuine conflict between Izuku and the people in his life because I didn’t for a second want the narrative to get confused by considerations about whether it was safe to have told his loved ones about his past.

I very easily could have chosen to explore a plot line where the people around him feel betrayed or question him. At the very least, Mirio could have had a moment of “what the fuck, man, I’ve spent my whole career being looked down on as the world’s Quirkless hero and you didn’t think to fucking mention you grew up Quirkless?”

Close to the entire class has been vulnerable with him. Todoroki told him about being abused his entire childhood. He knows about Uraraka’s financial traumas. Iida nearly killed that guy the one time. Kirishima made him look at that suspicious bump in the unfortunate place.

These are kids who have spent the past three years in the trenches together. They’ve been in actual, life or death scenarios since the age of 14-15, and the only thing that they could count on was each other. And then here they are, at the very end of it all, and they find out that the guy they’ve been trusting with their back the whole time seemingly didn’t trust them enough to tell them a single detail of his life before they met him.

They could have been a little more conflicted about the revelation. At the very least, they could have questioned deeper how their friend went from 0 Quirks to a suspicious amount of Quirks when they spent their entire time at school with Guy Whose Entire Thing Is Transferring Quirks And Like. Trying to Murder Kids Who Are Specifically Them took personal issue with every single field trip they’ve ever had.

But every single outside POV is like “obviously we can trust him. It’s Midoriya. Anywho I will now be questioning my own character because he can’t be the problem so it must be me.”

If I explored plot points like that, it would have divided the conflict’s attention between Man v. Self and Man v. Man. The plot would have to devote time and focus to resolving Izuku’s issues with his loved ones and regaining their trust, and that would have detracted from a major theme of this fic, which is that this wasn’t about not trusting the people around him. He didn’t tell them because of an internalized issue.

Midoriya trusted his friends with his life. This wasn’t about fear of them rejecting him because he grew up Quirkless. The conflict is with himself.

I also eliminated sources of external conflict by having it all come out to the entire class all at once. I didn’t want to waste plot resources on what Izuku would naturally do in this situation, which is try to hide the little shit by all means necessary and quarantine his very existence. There would be too much time and energy wasted on slowly revealing the truth to select members of the class one by one.

And don’t get me wrong, that could have been an interesting plot—it just wasn’t the one I wanted to write.

This fic is about having to grapple with the part of yourself that is still hurt and angry about it. The part that cannot process the past to the point where you fear it endangers your future. You want your trauma to just go away and not exist anymore, because things are better so it means you shouldn’t have to be them anymore.

The older Izuku wants the younger one to be gone. He wants him to, at the very least, stop talking about what happened in the past and accept the future for how it is, because he doesn’t want to lose what he’s gained. But in doing so he mirrors the denial of self his younger counterpart is being far more explicit about.

Because both versions of Izuku are refusing to believe the other is them.

Young Izuku is doing it in a very literal way. That guy ain’t me. He killed and replaced me. There is absolutely no way I am him. He refuses to accept that there is any version of him who could become like his older self.

But the older Izuku is doing the same thing, just in a less literal sense. Hes almost acting like his old self is somehow legitimately a distinct entity. He slips and says it to Aizawa—stop looking at me like I’m him. The older Izuku wants to just bulldoze over his past and pretend like it doesn’t belong to him, but it just doesn’t work that way.

That’s the conflict I wanted to capture for this fic. Just this absolute refusal to reconcile your past and your future because to do so would require processing the trauma you’ve been through. And so I cauterized off all other sources of conflict, because they’d just detract from what needed to be center stage.

[petrichorium]

pluvi begging you to expand on gojo not wanting what happened to his mother to happen to you 🙏

warnings: it’s all a dream so nothing is real aside from the flashback stuff but pregnancy as horror, (sewing) needles, implied gore/eye trauma, implied child harm, gojo is messed up yo!!! and its bc of his mama!!!

he dreams about her.

it’s an odd thing, really. gojo isn’t much of a dreamer—not much of a sleeper, all things considered, but it’s difficult not to give in when you drag him to bed and curl up in his arms. the soft rise and fall of your chest, the steady thump of your heart, the sound of your breath; it soothes him into slumber.

and he dreams about her. she was always young. he’s older now than she ever got to be. frail, thin; borderline skeletal, robes hanging from her body like webbing. she sits in a chair facing a window, swathed in moonlight, the silver of her embroidery needle glinting with each stab. her face is veiled. her stomach is swollen with child.

she doesn’t turn to him, but she beckons without noise. his feet take him easily to her, and he kneels at her side as she sets aside the embroidery hoop to let him place his head on her knees.

her hand is cold as it threads through his hair. it’s gentle, at first. then harsher a moment later. she grips firm, tugs him up by those electric white threads, stares down at him through all that elaborate lace.

he imagines she’s weeping beneath it. his mother never wept before him, but she was pretty in the aftermath, eyes puffy and pink and shining. they were a cold kind of loving when they regarded him. she must have been beautiful once, elegant and lithe and willowy, cruel like the heartless sea and sharp like a brilliant diamond, but whatever was there is long gone. he thinks all sons must empty their mothers, bleed them dry from within, because his was always a shell.

she trails her hand down the side of his face, and he turns into the palm and closes his eyes, and she is silent as she sets down her embroidery to lift her veil. she is silent and hollow and eidolic as her fingers brush down his jaw and tilt his head up to look at her.

but it’s your face that he sees when he opens his eyes.

it’s your hand against his cheek, your eyes pink and puffy and pretty, your stomach bulging by his own doing. it’s your fingers that pluck up the needle, still attached to a thread of brilliant cerulean, and raise it to his eye.

his mother never was able to pierce him with that needle. she stopped herself, each and every time, dropping it and tugging him close in shame. she never doted, never was kind, but she never did manage to harm him.

you do. he lets you. it’s only fair. whatever thing is in your stomach can’t be human—whether god or demon what does it matter, at the end of the day—and didn’t he put it in you himself? if his mother never got the satisfaction of spilling his blood, shouldn’t you?

but he wakes just as the tip pierces his iris, and you hold him in your lap, eyes wide with concern and not puffy from weeping, and you hold no child within you. your hands thread through his hair and they’re warm, your lips plush when you bend to press a kiss to his brow.

he turns inward to press his face into your (empty, blissfully vacant) abdomen. the wetness he leaves there, falling from his so very coveted eyes, is colorless.

he thinks it ought to be brilliant crimson.

[every-sanji]