In 1533, according to the Oxford Dictionary of English, "tomboy" was used to mean a "rude, boisterous or forward boy". By the 1570s, however, "tomboy” had taken on the meaning of a "bold or immodest woman", finally, in the late 1590s and early 1600s, the term morphed into its current meaning: "a girl who behaves like a spirited or boisterous boy; a wild romping girl.”
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Guys i need a good ao3 botw fic recommendation.
I want to find something that captures's botw's emphasis on isolation. Like, the game had a very lonely feel to it, you know? I want to find a fic that has that very same feeling of loneliness, like something to do with Link randomly exploring Hyrule and encountering its empty, silent ruins. The world feeling familiar to him but so unfamiliar at the same time, the world being drastically more desolate than it once was a century ago, where it had once been lively, but Link having no recollection of that liveliness. Something well-written with good desciption. A fic of Link feeling alone in this world that has little liveliness to it, something somber yet tranquil at the same time. I don't know how to explain it, but something quiet, almost calm. maybe having some angst of link struggling to recall memories of his past as princess zelda's knight, memories that he knows he should have but just doesn't have.
I've been searching through ao3 for a fic like this, but to no avail. if i didn't have so many writing wips i'd write it, but oh well. If you find anything somewhat close to this, let me know.
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Phone: oh? You didn’t want me to autocorrect ‘Were’ to ‘We’re’? In fact when I did that you went back and deleted it and typed ‘Were’ again? And when I corrected it again you went back and changed it again? And then waited for me to suggest you meant ‘we’re’, told me no, and then got frustrated when, after you finished typing the next word I changed it to ‘We’re’ again?
But are you absolutely positive you didn’t meant ‘we’re’ bc I’m preeeeetty sure you really did mean ‘We’re’.
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i completely embarrassed myself in front of someone else who was putting their laundry in at the same time as me and now i have to go down and probably run into them again bc our stuff is going to be done at the same time :')
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One of the major downsides to having a post of yours get popular on tumblr is that you cannot control WHICH version goes viral. Did you reblog it with an addition you really liked? That one MIGHT get picked up. Or maybe only a handful of people see the addition. Like, you’re still happy people are enjoying and sharing the silly thought you shared, but you’re also mentally willing them to look down the reblog chain for that extra bit you added that you’re really proud of.
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woul yall hate me if i posted my art on this blog jhgfd
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i just saw past lives and cried my heart out, naturally, but also it was soooo good and everything twisty and hurtful i love out of complicated romances. it felt like it was designed to hit exactly that part of my brain that adores being hurt by love triangles so much.
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kimberly brooks | fever dreams | 2019
los angeles, 60x48in, oil on linen
high tea, 60x28in, oil on linen
georgina, 60x52in, oil and gold on linen
fawn, 44x36in, oil on linen
lagoon, 44x36in, oil on linen
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Danis: you can't have dogs in Baldur's Gate
guard: sorry, can't let any animals larger than a cat into the city
Alice, rocking up with a dog, an owlbear cub, a man who feels more comfortable wildshaped into a bear, a woman who can turn into a panther, and enough jars of True Soul tadpoles that she could start a small cult of her own: Skill Issue
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so once me and my wife were watching a documentary where a snake ate like a million eggs. that snake just went to fucking town on eggs. and the snake made the eggs look so good that i kept thinking about it, and thinking about it, and thinking about it, and eventually it was 11pm and i ran out of willpower and decided to eat one (1) singular raw egg just to prove to myself that the snake was surely a liar.
the snake was not a liar. texture is like, super important to me and raw eggs are very Texture so i had another one, and then another one, and then another one, and eventually i ran out of eggs.
i had like, fifteen raw eggs.
i didnt really know how to explain this momentary madness to my wife, so my Plan was to put all the eggshells into a grocey bag, and then throw that grocery bag in the dumpster, and if she never noticed that would be Excellent and if she noticed immediately i could lie and say that the eggs went bad.
except i cant lie very good, and of course with murphys law being such, i got salmonella.
so i threw up a lot and my wife asked me what poisoned me so and i tried very hard to dodge the question but i was oozing shame like oil from a room temperature cheese and eventaully i gave in and told her everything and to her enormous credit she was more flabbergasted than actually upset. she did make me promise to not eat any more raw eggs, which i have stuck to, and she gives me weird looks during nature documentaries now as if desire was the only thing keeping me from eating thousands of pounds of krill
anyway i made a joke earlier about being able to eat my age in eggs and my sister in law in law made a drawing to comemorate the moment and also because it was my birthday. she's excellent. thank you 10000000% @cintailed. you should all visit her page and admire her work.
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u ever see someone with extremely fucked up views (or actions) and think wowww if a couple of things in my life went the tiniest bit differently that would have been me
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