I was gonna make a post inserting my thoughts on the whole LMK Nezha age debate thing, and then realized I'd be coming in on a side that doesn't exist™
I'm not here for the right to ship, babes (which is cool and an important discussion to be had), I'm here to psychoanalyze the trauma and self-loathing that probably comes from the "murderous(?) demon child to self-sacrificing protector of Heaven" pipeline for an adult LMK Nezha :D
nothing like hatred of your childhood mistakes, baby!
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i didn't have "i'm broken" teenage asexual angst i had "i'm literally being the only reasonable one about this concept and the rest of you are behaving like fucking freaks" perception issues
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still thinking about the brainrot that fast fashion has caused in people, like i made this pair of pants that are black and white with a cool flowery design, and an acquaintance saw them and said "wow i'd pay like 20 dollars for you to make me a pair" and i could barely think with how utterly horrified i was at that; i told them that 20 dollars wouldn't even cover the materials, let alone the hours of work that went into cutting, sewing, ironing, hemming, altering, etc. they just had this look on their face when i told them that, when i said i wouldn't make them a pair for even 100 dollars because that was still way too low of an amount, a look that said "you're crazy for thinking that those cost 100 dollars" and maybe i am crazy but holy shit, 20 dollars for a pair of handmade, durable, lined pants fitted specifically to your measurements? 20 dollars for upwards of 60 hours of work? 20 dollars for several yards of high-quality fabric, thread, and buttons? 20 dollars???
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[image id: a four-page comic. it is titled "immortality” after the poem by clare harner (more popularly known as “do not stand at my grave and weep”). the first page shows paleontologists digging up fossils at a dig. it reads, “do not stand at my grave and weep. i am not there. i do not sleep.” page two features several prehistoric creatures living in the wild. not featured but notable, each have modern descendants: horses, cetaceans, horsetail plants, and crocodilians. it reads, “i am a thousand winds that blow. i am the diamond glints on snow. i am the sunlight on ripened grain. i am the gentle autumn rain.” the third page shows archaeopteryx in the treetops and the skies, then a modern museum-goer reading the placard on a fossil display. it reads, “when you awaken in the morning’s hush, i am the swift uplifting rush, of quiet birds in circled flight. i am the soft stars that shine at night. do not stand at my grave and cry.” the fourth page shows a chicken in a field. it reads, “i am not there. i did not die” / end id]
a comic i made in about 15 hours for my school’s comic anthology. the theme was “evolution”
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You know what’s astonishing about Katara? She grew up in a world without bending.
It’s not surprising that Sokka calls her bending ‘magic water’ in the first episode. It might as well have been magic to them at that point; they had never seen it in practice until they meet Aang.
So not only did Katara not have any teachers, she didn’t have any kind of guidance, no visual aids, no idea of how bending is supposed to look or work. The first time she ever sees actual waterbending movements is when she steals the waterbending scroll from the pirates. The first time she meets another waterbender is when she reaches the North Pole, where within weeks she outmasters pretty much everyone and goes on to teach the Avatar.
Everything she does is so incredibly impressive, and yet I can’t help but feel the most proud of her when she catches a fish on that little boat.
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He added, after a pause: “Remember this, my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are only bad cultivators.”
Les Misérables, Volume I / Book V / Chapter III, trans. Hapgood
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every time i think about how armand as rashid is a kind of visual echo of how he looked as amadeo i want to explode
like... his big brown eyes... all his little expressions... his hair...
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Sometimes being an artist is feeling like a baker seeing a chemist making the deadliest liquid in the world and wishing you could make the deadliest liquid as well but you're a baker, not a chemist, and then you feel like your bread is worthless
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