Shoutout to characters that are both genuinely deeply kind and also genuinely terrifying and willing to spill buckets worth of blood to get something done. And neither of these are an act, they're just both very true.
not very new hyperfixation rediscovered write a poem abt it
sorry i haven't read your fic yet it's been in my open tabs for 8 months
Yo! Everyone the fox has gotten a new idea!
Anyway! before i go into this i just wanna say i have only watched Atla, Korra? nope, I’ve only seen what Tumblr shown me and amv’s XD and atla was a while ago as well… so… uh this au will take place after Korra but since i haven’t watched Korra… this will be hecking tricky!
Let’s ignore how not canon this will be from The Legend of Korra’s standpoint (like maybe much of the whole series) i present to you the current ideas and character info that i have.
Some angst, cause shit is sad at times. Anyway the info is under the cut BECAUSE THIS WILL GET LONG!
Continuar lendo
Btw for people who don’t use Twitter, here’s Charlie’s tweet on Palestine, if you want to go and look at the charities in the thread, here’s the link to the original tweet
For those confused as to why it’s not posted on his Main, he got locked out and doesn’t have the 2FA to get back in right now.
This should be reblogged by everyone. Even if you’re straight, you should be a supporter.
Okay fuck it if this post reaches 666k notes by the end of 2023 I'll practise basic self care
Why 666k? Because it's funny and impossible so good fucking luck
AINDA ESTOU AQUI
You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”
Well I see that, and I raise you this:
An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.
And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.
He’s crushed by the competition every single time.
Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker.
There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.
And he wins.
Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something.
The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.
So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.
He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”
Call me Bard | she/her | Brazilian | Bi Just here to see chaos and my fandoms and some nonsense memes
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