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#ganza
nosvu · 2 years
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wally-b-feed · 1 year
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vulto-cor-de-rosa · 2 years
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Gaslight gatekeep ganza
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mltmdgci · 2 years
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GANZA 5. Bienal Konferansı 2023
GANZA 5. Bienal Konferansı 2023
Karanlık ve korku dolu hikayelerin sadece kitaplarda yer almasını temenni ettiğim yeni yılı güzel karşıladım. Sevgili Özlem Ertan’ın Dolunay Ayini’ni kadın bedeni ve gotik feminizm odağında ele alarak konferansta sunum yapacağım. Kadın gotiği, kadın temelli korku sorunları, beden ve gotik feminizm ile birlikte kitabın ana meselesine yaklaşılacaktır. GANZA (Yeni Zelanda ve Avustralya Gotik…
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greenapricot · 9 months
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gothamskidgenius · 19 days
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I think about uranus a lot
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maizixie · 5 months
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como assim eu perdi a minha bolsinha da ganza dentro do meu quarto eu preciso de ir à bruxa fds
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luxflora · 6 months
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Guide to my booping numbers:
1 boop: We're not following each other, or at least I'm not following you, but I saw your url in my notifications or on my dash and I'm waving.
2 boops: I'm probably following you, or I recognize your url, but we're not mutuals (or I'm intimidated by you). This is me cautiously holding out my hand for you to sniff.
3, 4 boops: You're familiar to me, and I'm comfortable enough to try petting you/scratching your kitty ears/neck. I want you to know I'm intentionally booping you multiple times and didn't just accidentally double press the boop button, but I also don't want to spam your boop notifications.
5-10 boops: We're probably mutuals, or we've spoken/interacted. I might not be following you, but I want you to know that I like seeing your url in my notifications, and I think you'll like seeing mine.
11+ boops: You asked for more boops, or we are at war.
(Please note that not all my booping interactions will reflect these guidelines. Particularly, if you booped me first, I may simply mirror the number of boops you sent, plus or minus a couple.)
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kaimaciel · 2 years
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Prenda de Natal do Afonso
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newleasemusic · 5 months
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Song of the Day: Never Enough - Leo Ganza
Song of the Day: Never Enough - Leo Ganza
Rising star from Tournament Tyme Ent, LEO GANZA‘s single, ‘Never Enough,’ was born out of sheer resilience and determination. Amid personal tragedy and global uncertainty, Ganza’s work ethic prevailed, culminating in a powerhouse anthem that refuses to settle for mediocrity. ‘Never Enough’ isn’t just a song. It’s a testament to perseverance in adversity. Ganza’s signature blend of traditional…
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When the Dungeon Master posts this:
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Some players run, some players hide.
And some players bluff and hope like hell
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icedteaandoldlace · 2 years
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So I finally named/created my Flash Pinterest board, and the quote I decided to go with for the title is, "It's cranberry juice, buttercup."
The thing is, when I repin something to that board (at least on mobile idk about desktop), the name cuts off because it's so long, and all you see is, "It's Cranberry Juice, Butt..."
And all I can think of is that one Improv-A-Ganza sketch where Jeff reads his prompt, "I love sex, but..." and instead of thinking of a way to finish that sentence, he just repeats it as a statement, "I love sexbut." And then for the rest of the sketch, any time they need to say the word "sex" they call it "sexbut".
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starflungwaddledee · 8 months
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Bandee and Starstruck 🎀💖
starting off my february starstruck dee ship-a-ganza with the big one. they do seem like... the obvious answer, huh...?
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they have far and away the most development together and the strongest personal relationship, both in what i've posted, and in her story overall! would kill or die for each other in a heartbeat. i would be absolutely lying if i said i'd never thought about it, but i'm not 100% convinced my thoughts lead me to romance specifically...
they're already pretty insane about each other! starstruck in particular is madly in love with bandee in every way it's possible to be. loves him the way he loves kirby, i think (pretty sure he does not know this. might be shocked to learn it.)
however she's daft as bricks, so he'd have to initiate, and i can't really imagine anything in their relationship would change.... so he'd have to mostly want The Title or the Performance one way or another, and i'm not super sure he would!
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gothamskidgenius · 26 days
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This is a good view of the city. I guess.
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munson-blurbs · 2 years
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That blurb about Eddie hating his scars just gave me the biggest feels…. Could you maybe write about taking care of Eddie after he’s back from the upside down? Fluff-ganza and a little bit of angst helping with his wounds and nightmares … ah 🥹 love your blooooog ❤️
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Warnings: language, blood, mentions of surgical procedures
WC: 2.6k
A/N: This was more fluff than angst, but I hope you like it! Please leave feedback <3
@princesseddie86 here is the fluff piece I promised you!
“Stay with me, Eddie, please,” you beg as you follow the gurney down the hospital corridor. You watch him take shallow breaths, hair matted to his face with blood.
He groans softly, unintelligible sounds leaving his lips. He’s shivering from the blood loss. You’re not even sure if he’s aware that you’re here, but you keep talking to him.
“You’re gonna be okay. You’re at the hospital; the doctors will take good care of you,” you promise, though you’re unsure what can be done.
The nurses surrounding him are listing different codes. It’s like a foreign language to you, but it might be better if you can’t understand it. They might be saying things you don’t want to hear.
The whole situation was so bizarre. You’d been friends with Robin Buckley since grade school; you were one of the few people she’d come out to. You thought it was crazy enough when she told you she was now friends with Steve Harrington, but what really sealed the deal was when she’d told you about an otherworldly realm dubbed the Upside Down. Oh, and now a demon-type entity named Vecna was brutally mutilating and killing random Hawkins teenagers, and maybe, pretty please, could you help them fight him?
Before joining their brigade of monster hunters, you hadn’t had much contact with Eddie Munson. For starters, you took honors classes, while he struggled to pass his introductory courses. You’d been privy to his many cafeteria table speeches, but never paid too much attention to them. You didn’t think he was a freak or running some satanic cult like many of your classmates assumed, but you didn’t really have anything to do with a slacker metalhead like Eddie.
Of course, that was before you actually got to know him. Before you saw the way he took care of the freshmen who idolized him, his passion for anything related to music, how he read dog-eared fantasy paperbacks until he had them memorized. Before you realized how much you cared for him.
You watch the doctors whisk him to the ICU, and it dawns on you that you might not ever get the chance to tell him.
~
Eddie’s uncle Wayne meets you at the hospital after Steve and Robin find him at the trailer park and fill him in on what happened. Well, sort of--it was too much to get into the whole “Upside Down” business, especially when his nephew’s life hung in limbo--so that would have to be a conversation for another day. 
You’re waiting in the waiting room, chewing on your fingernails, when he walks in solemnly. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and though he’s stoic now, his tear-stained cheeks reveal that he’s been crying. Your gaze meets his, and he comes over to sit with you.
“You Y/N?” he asks, and you nod numbly. “I’m, uh, Wayne, Eddie’s uncle.”
You try to offer a smile, though the effort makes it feel more like a grimace. “Eddie’s told me a lot about you.”
“Good things, I hope.”
“Of course. He told me all about how you raised him after his dad went to prison and his mom...” you trail off. Even the thought of death--anyone’s death--is too hard to think about right now.
Wayne nods. “Was the least I could do. My brother--Eddie’s old man--he and I were raised by our drunk of a dad. And that really messed with my brother. Messed with me, too, but maybe I missed some of it because I was younger.
“He started drinking, too; starting drinking too much, too fast, too young. Makin’ bad decisions, just like our dad. And after he got taken away, I couldn’t let Eddie fall into that same trap.” He pulls out a cigarette and looks at you. “Mind if I smoke?”
“No, that’s fine,” you reply softly, and he lights it. “Actually, could I bum one?”
Wayne gives you a knowing look. “’S not a good habit, y’know?”
“I don’t normally...only when I’m stressed.” You take a cigarette from him and lean in so he can light it.
“Don’t tell Eddie,” he whispers. “He won’t like me poisoning his girlfriend’s lungs.”
You choke, and it’s not from smoke inhalation. “We’re, um...I’m not his girlfriend,” you mumble. But I wish I was, you want to say.
Wayne lets out a small chuckle, then takes another drag from his cigarette. “Well, if you say so.”
You want to ask him to elaborate when a nurse enters the waiting room. “Wayne Munson?” Wayne stands up quickly, motioning for you to join him. “Your nephew is out of surgery. You can see him now.”
“Okay,” he replies, “his girlfriend’s gonna come with me, if that’s all right?”
The nurse nods. “Of course.”
You don’t even bother to correct him this time.
~
The hospital doesn’t have any of Eddie’s favorite books; no copies of Lord of the Rings anywhere in the place. You settle for an old tattered copy of The Catcher in the Rye and read aloud to the sleeping boy next to you.
He still hasn’t woken up from the anesthesia, but you’re still relieved to see how calm he looks, his breaths even instead of ragged. They cleaned him up a bit so there’s no traces of dried blood on his face. He looks more like himself.
You’re still reading when you notice him stir ever so slightly, making your heart leap.
“E-Eddie?” you whisper, placing a hand over his, careful of his IV. “Eddie, can you hear me?”
He groans softly and promptly falls back to sleep. The nurses warned you that he might go in and out, that it was normal, but you just wanted him awake.
Wayne comes back in the room, holding a paper cup of water. He hands it to you and you accept it gratefully.
“Any news?” he asks.
“He just kinda...moved a little bit? And made a tiny noise. But that was it,” you report, disappointment written all over your face.
Wayne puts a hand on your shoulder. “I know it’s useless tellin’ y’this, but you don’t have to stay. I can call you from the payphone when he’s up.”
“I want to be here when he wakes up. Unless I’m in your way, and I can leave.” It hadn’t dawned on you that Wayne might want to be alone with Eddie, but the man just shakes his head.
“No, no. The company helps,” he reassures you. “Jus’ figured you need some rest.”
“I’m okay for now.” Okay is too strong a word; really, you’re barely surviving, but you can’t manage to go home. You turn your attention back to the book, clear your throat, and continue reading.
~
“Hello?”
The voice is quiet and gravelly, barely audible over the sounds of machines beeping and Wayne’s light snoring, but you hear it. You hear Eddie.
“Hi, sleepyhead.” You get up from the chair where you were half-sleeping and crouch by his bedside. “How do you feel?”
“Like shit,” he mutters. “What happened?”
You knit your brows, unable to hide your concern. “Do you...do you remember what happened? With the bats?”
He tries a laugh but ends up coughing, holding his torso in pain. “Fuck. Yeah, I remember those motherfuckers. Just not...after.”
“Well,” you start, “after you decided to be a hero, Dustin and I grabbed you and brought you back to Hawkins. You were so pale and shaky and...” Tears threaten to spill from your eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be brave for you.”
But Eddie’s not even listening to that part. “You and Henderson came back for me?” he asks incredulously.
You nod. “Of course. You know he worships the ground you walk on.”
“And you?”
Because I care about you. Because even though we’ve only been friends for a few days, I feel complete with you. Because now that I know you, really know you, I can’t live in a world without Eddie Munson.
“Because you’re my friend, Eddie,” you manage, swallowing down all of the other things you actually wanted to say. You look over at Wayne, who is still sleeping. “C’mon, let’s tell your uncle that you’re awake.”
~
Eddie is discharged from the hospital after three days. He has to use a cane to get around until he’s fully healed, which he complains makes him look elderly, but you reassure him that it looks totally metal.
You help Wayne get him into the trailer and onto the sofa, where he sits back with a grunt.
“Okay, I think my work here is done!” you announce and turn to Wayne. “Could I use your phone? Steve can pick me up.” You’d driven to and from the hospital in Wayne’s car, which meant either calling Steve for a ride or walking home.
“You’re leaving?” Eddie asks from his spot on the couch. Maybe you’re imagining it, but does he look...disappointed at the prospect of you going?
You laugh. “Taking care of you for three days straight wasn’t enough for you?” 
“No, I think I need you here full-time,” he says, pushing out his lower lip into a pout. “Y’know, bring me my meds, change my dressings, give me a sponge bath...”
That last comment earns him a thwap on the back of the head from his uncle. “Behave,” Wayne warns.
You roll your eyes, heading for the phone. “I have to go home and rest. Maybe see my parents, let them know I’m alive.” There’s more truth than sarcasm in that statement now with Hawkins seemingly crumbling around you. And you are exhausted.
“Okay,” he concedes, looking at you with his brown doe eyes, “can you come back tomorrow? Wayne can’t take any more days off from work.”
“I think I can manage that.” You call Steve, who was on his way back from volunteering at the school-turned-crisis-shelter, so it only took him five minutes to get to the trailer park. As you walk to his car, closing the door behind you, you hear Wayne’s gruff voice.
“Boy, if you don’t take that girl on a date once you’re healed up...”
~
Two weeks later, your phone rings just before 8 AM on a Sunday.
“Hello?” you croak groggily, stifling a yawn.
“Y/N!” Eddie’s voice booms through the receiver, jolting you awake.
“Eddie? Is everything okay?” You sit up so fast that dots form in front of your eyes, and you put a hand on the bed to steady yourself. You’ve been going to his trailer nearly every day, bringing him his homework and often staying to help him with it. The boy was determined to graduate this year, come hell or high water. 
“Yeah, yeah, sorry,” he says, like he’s just realized how early it is, “but can you come over now? I wanna show you something.”
You stretch and feel your back crack. “Sure. Let me just get dressed and I can be there in, like, half an hour?”
“Perfect.” You can sense his delight over the phone. “I’ll leave the door unlocked. Just come in when you get here.”
“Sounds good.” You run a comb through your hair and throw it up in a loose bun. Pulling on some light wash jeans, you rummage through your dresser to find a shirt. You weigh your options carefully and laugh at yourself. This isn’t a fashion show, you’re just going to see Eddie. Why do you care about what you look like? 
You know why, you think, but push it away as you throw on an oversized navy blue shirt and finish the rest of your morning routine.
~
You gently push open the trailer door and see Eddie laying on the couch, reading The Catcher in the Rye.
“Hi,” he breathes, then holds up the book. “Someone never got to finish reading this to me, so I had Henderson check it out from the library.”
“You never read it in your ten years of high school?” you tease gently, placing your jacket on the chair near the door.
“Hey, it’s only six!” he protests. “And no. Probably was s’posed to, though.”
“Is that what you wanted to show me?”
“Nah,” he grins. “Watch this.”
Your eyes stay locked on him as he pushes himself up slowly, grimacing as he uses the arm of the sofa for balance. His cane is leaned up against it, but he doesn’t reach for it; instead, he takes careful, methodical steps without any mobility aid.
You feel a smile spreading across your face, though it’s a bit dampened with concern. Should he be walking by himself? you wonder, but allow him his moment. He’s so proud, so determined.
He gets to you and takes your hand gingerly. “Ta-da!”
You want to fling your arms around his neck and pull him in for the tightest hug of his life, but you’re not about to re-injure him, so you squeeze his hand instead.
“Look at you! You’ll be back to torturing the rest of Hellfire in no time!” You go to drop his hand, but he doesn’t let go. You think maybe he just needs to hold on for stability, but then he takes his other hand and wraps you in a hug.
“It’s all thanks to you,” he murmurs. 
“I think the doctors and nurses who stitched you back together deserve some credit,” you remind him, but you feel your cheeks burning.
You feel him shake his head. “I’m not talking about the medical stuff. I’m talking about the...trying again stuff.”
“Trying again?” you look up at him quizzically. 
Eddie sighs and leads you back to the couch. “Yeah,” he says softly. “I kept trying to walk a little more each day so I could meet you at the door to hug you.”
Your heart surges. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”
It’s his turn to blush. “That’s me, y’know, the murderous satanic cult leader with a heart of gold.”
“What a coincidence,” you laugh, “that’s just my type.”
He lets out a small chuckle and takes your hand again. “Wanna know what my next goal is?” He waits for you to nod before continuing. “I’m gonna work up the strength to take you out on a date. If, uh, if that’s okay with you.” 
“If that’s okay with...Eddie, of course that’s okay with me. It’s more than okay!” You rest your free hand on his knee. “But there’s no rush. We can hang out here and watch movies until you’re ready. I’m not going anywhere.”
And then something comes over him, a feeling that he ordinarily would’ve dismissed, but now he leans into it. He cups your chin and brings your lips to his, kissing you softly. Your body is tingling as you move your hand from his knee to his bicep, mindful of his healing wounds. 
A fleeting thought crosses your mind, leading you to break the kiss earlier than you wanted. He misinterprets this and apologizes quickly.
“Sorry, should’ve waited until we actually went on a date...” he sputters, playing with his rings.
“No, Eddie. I just...” you sigh deeply. “I’m worried that you only think you like me because I’ve been taking care of you. And then once you’re better, you’ll realize that...”
His jaw drops slightly in disbelief. “Y/N, I’ve been thinkin’ about you since Robin introduced us. And then when I realized that you’re cute and caring...” he trails off. “kinda fell for ya.”
“Oh,” you’re taken aback by his honest confession and allow yourself to fall back into his warm embrace. “Well, in that case...” you smile as you kiss him.
His shoulders relax and he holds you as close as he can.
“I’m never letting you go,” he promises, and you vow that you’ll never let him go, either.
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momo-de-avis · 4 months
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Descrever a tradição do pai passar a noiva pro marido dá pano pra mangas, e é tudo na onda do retrógado, ultrapassado, misógeno, etc mas a partir de hoje vou passar a dizer "como se fosse uma ganza" porque foda sse realmente
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