*Unyielding*

@Eric Michael: You can’t logic someone out of a position they didn’t logic themselves into.

“If I had a nickel for every time you asked me to take my clothes off I’d have two nickles which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice, especially coming from someone who thinks I’m a kid, seems a little suspect if you ask me.”

(Homeless vigilanteed Izuku, dadzawa wanting to check the healed stab wound on his leg, dadzawa does not know his identity and only assumes he's a kid because of his size which is true but dadzawa does not know that)

Conditions May Apply by CinnamonPinecones on ao3 ~348,276 words (so far 119 ch. Waiting on updates) really good read 100% recommend 💖

Oh my God this is probably the best thing I've seen in a while! Thank you for sharing your amazing Creation with the world

oh man im so sleepy i cant see straight, but im done!! Shindeku animation set to the tune of Welcome to My Parents House by NSP (with some emic on the side) i started yesterday and finished right before midnight! go me <3

One of my favorite insults:

As useful as a soup Sandwich

The weapon isn’t sharp,

but it wounds all the same—

innocence worn

like a well-practiced game.

A smile, a shrug,

a task left undone,

they play the fool

but they've already won.

Each failure rehearsed,

each “oops” on display,

leaving the other

to clean up, to stay.

They dodge the load

with a clumsy excuse,

while someone else tightens

what they set loose.

It’s not lack of skill,

nor honest mistake—

it’s a quiet control

they refuse to forsake.

The cost isn't loud,

but it's heavy with strain,

a silent exchange

of effort and pain.

So call it what is—

not careless or dense,

but a choice to avoid

by feigned incompetence.

And the one who bears it

feels furious within,

caught in a loop

they didn’t begin.

Words of wisdom I've heard from my father:

You can only pick your nose, you can't pick your battles

I was talking to myself and came up with the line "instead they take the poisoned berries handed to them like they're a god-given cure" so here is poems based off of it

His words, a venom, sharp and sly,

Spilled from a mouth that never tries

To heal, to soothe, to lift the soul—

Only to poison, twist, and control.

Each sentence laced with bitter sting,

A heavy blow from a hollow king.

In every tweet, in every speech,

He reached to tear, to bruise, to breach.

Promises dripped in bitter hues,

A master of the darkest news.

He weaved his lies, with artful grace,

A smirk upon his troubled face.

The truth, a casualty in his fight,

As facts dissolved in the toxic light.

Yet those who hear his wicked call,

Fall deeper still beneath his thrall.

For words like these can tear apart,

They plant a seed, corrupt the heart.

But in the end, though loud they roar,

The poison fades—truth stands once more.

-------------------------------------------------------

Instead they take the poisoned berries handed to them like they’re a god-given cure—

Bitter fruit, with a lethal allure,

That promises healing, but leaves them to rot,

Feeding on lies that they’ve been taught.

His words are sweet, his smile a mask,

A gentle whisper, a dangerous task.

“Trust me,” he says, “I’ll make it right,”

But darkness blooms where there once was light.

Instead they take the poisoned berries,

Blind to the thorns that twist within,

They taste the venom, convinced it’s sweet,

And fall to the rhythm of their own defeat.

The cure they seek is a cruel disguise,

For in each berry, a sorrow lies.

They drink the poison, the whispers, the lies,

And wonder, too late, why the world still dies.

But when the dawn breaks, they will see—

The berries were never meant to set them free.

And in the ruin, the truth will stir:

No god gives poison—only a deceiver.

-------------------------------------------------------

**The Poisoned Gift**

Instead they take the poisoned berries,

Handed to them like a god-given cure—

A promise painted red and sweet,

A bitter gift, they eat and eat.

His words, like fruit with lethal glow,

Drip false hope where doubt should grow,

And in their hunger, they take the bite,

Believing venom tastes of light.

"Trust me," he murmurs, with hungry eyes,

While shadows stretch and truth lies tied.

They crave the healing, the promised ease,

Blind to the thorn that digs, that bleeds.

The berries cling, like secrets kept,

Wrapped in pride and swallowed deep.

And they, in thrall, in dreams secure,

Let poison pass as if it's pure.

But when dawn breaks, the fog will clear,

The truth lies sharp, like shattered mirrors—

No god gives poison as a cure,

Only deceivers, cruel and near.

Do y’all know where the phrase “eat the rich” comes from or do you just repeat it cause you heard it elsewhere?

It’s not a bad thing, I just saw someone say “we never said who would eat the rich” and realized a lot of y’all might not have heard the full quote

It’s from Rousseau and it’s “When the people shall have nothing more to eat, they will eat the rich"

And, well, there’s a lot of people with nothing to eat…

**Beneath the Flag**

O land of promise, bold and bright,

Your stars once blazed a hopeful light,

But shadows fall where dreams decay,

As gilded hopes drift far away.

Skies of blue and fields of green,

Hide truths beneath a painted scene,

Where wealth divides, and justice sways,

And voices fade in endless haze.

Cities hum and highways roar,

Yet many struggle, wanting more;

The streets are paved with stories lost,

And freedom bears a quiet cost.

A land of plenty, yet denied,

Where broken dreams and secrets hide.

...Where hope and hardship still collide.

......Where shadows linger, hope entwined.

Where hands reach out but come back bare,

And promises hang in the air,

A country torn, a dream betrayed,

As weary hearts still hope for aid.