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#briefly at least
worstloki · 6 months
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Was kissinger a zionist or something?
Zionism was very much not the main thing he was known for
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dollsdiscord · 9 months
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ENID CROUCH TV TROPES
PART TWO
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laundrybiscuits · 10 months
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(ETA: now edited and up on AO3)
Look. Eddie knows he can be a little uptight about these things, but. There are rules. If you become a vampire, you don’t need to go full gothic Count Von Dickhead or whatever, but you absolutely cannot just wander around in a puffy vest and light-wash jeans. 
“Why not?” says Steve. He’s leaning back in an armchair, sipping on a bloodbag like it’s a goddamn juicebox. “What, are the vampire police going to arrest me?” 
He pauses. “Wait. There aren’t vampire police, are there?”
“No,” says Eddie. “Probably not. I don’t know. But there are standards which you are refusing to uphold, Steven.”
“Thought you were all about hating conformity, Edward,” Steve says. He’s got an obnoxiously cocky little smirk, the smug undead fucker. 
Eddie grimaces. “Don’t call me that, asswipe. Don’t you feel, like—the call of the night? The siren song of life coursing through fragile human veins? A hunger for destruction that those paltry plastic bags of blood can never truly slake?”
“The bloodbags aren’t so bad,” says Steve, around the straw. “Better than protein shakes.”
“I actually hate you,” Eddie tells him. “Vampirism is wasted on you.”
Steve noisily slurps the last of the blood out of the bottom of the bag. “Come on, you can’t really picture me in some Dracula getup, can you?”
The problem, of course, is that Eddie really, really can. When Robin had read him in on the whole situation, obviously he’d been horrified and concerned—but also, a whole wing of his brain had immediately been cordoned off to work overtime imagining Steve in elaborate Dark Prince regalia, maybe leaning elegantly out of a castle window on the moors, gazing into the foggy dusk. Velvet might’ve been involved.
“...guess not,” says Eddie. It doesn’t sound incredibly convincing to his own ears, but Steve just shrugs and gets up to throw the bloodbag away. 
“There you go, man,” he says, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he passes. “It’s the 80s. Vampires can be whatever we wanna be.”
———
It gets way too easy to forget about Steve’s condition, until Eddie ends up having to haul him out of a bar in Indy before they get banned for life.  
“Simmer down, buddy,” Eddie says, pulling him into the shadow of the van. “Let’s get those fangs packed away before any of the nice villagers wander by with torches and pitchforks.”
“I’m good,” pants Steve. “It’s all good. Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”
Eddie lifts an unimpressed eyebrow. “Sure, that’s why your eyes are glowing red and you’re, like, fully vamped out. Which, by the way, looks extremely dumb with the whole clean-cut vibe you decided to rock tonight.”
“Fuck you, I look great,” says Steve, pushing a hand through his hair. He’s not wrong, it’s just not relevant to how he also looks extremely dumb like this, wearing a pristine henley with fangs hanging out in the parking lot for anyone to see.
“So what the hell happened in there, man? I was finally starting to get somewhere with Todd, and…” Eddie trails off in dawning realization.
“Holy shit, am I—I’m like your territory, aren’t I? Your stupid vampire brain got all screwy and decided to loop me in with Robin and the kids as part of your freaky human coven.”
“Uh,” says Steve. He looks unhappy in a shifty kind of way. “Something like that, maybe.”
“Wait, so, are Nancy and Jonathan—are you okay with them because they’re both already in the vamp pack? Is Vickie gonna have to be inaugurated before she and Robin can bone down?” Eddie perks up. “Shit, is there a ceremony? We could totally do a ceremony.” He bets he can get the kids to liberate some velour curtains from the drama club. With a few candles, they could get some serious atmosphere going.
“No, shut up, nobody’s doing a damn ceremony,” Steve groans. “Vickie’s fine.” 
“Okay,” says Eddie. “So…you gonna tell me what all that was about, then? Do I have to start running guys past you first so your vamp instincts don’t wig out? Or…hm, maybe Argyle’d be down to mess around sometime.”
Steve lets out an actual snarl with weird animal echoes, then claps a hand over his mouth.
“Sorry,” he says, muffled. The shadows around them seem darker somehow. 
“So I’m just not allowed to get laid ever again,” says Eddie slowly. “For vampire reasons.”
“Do whatever you want, man.” Steve’s still got his hand pressed tight over his mouth. 
“And it’s…just me?” Eddie peers at the tightness around Steve’s eyes; the way he’s scowling stubbornly at his feet. “Huh. Kind of…possessive, Harrington.”
“It’s—weird,” says Steve miserably, dropping his hand at last. “I know it’s fucking weird.”
“Maybe.” Eddie shrugs, biting down on the grin he can feel tugging at his mouth. “Lucky for you, I’m into that shit.”
“What?” Steve frowns. “You’re…”
“Always wanted a vampire boyfriend,” says Eddie. “Like, are you kidding? I would’ve sold my fucking soul at 15 for something like that.”
“I’m starting to feel a little objectified here,” says Steve, but he’s smiling, and he reaches out to snag Eddie’s belt loop and tug him stumbling closer. “Just in it for the fangs, huh?”
“Well, you’re kind of a shitty vampire, actually.” Eddie drapes his arms over Steve’s shoulders. “So I guess I must just be in it for you.”
Steve hesitates, searching Eddie’s face. Stray red lights are still sparking like embers in Steve’s irises. “Okay, but—you’re in it? Right?”
“Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, Bunnicula. I’ll send the vampire police after you, just watch me,” says Eddie, and kisses him.
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dduane · 1 year
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...The periodic reminder. 😏
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ssaalexblake · 5 months
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the absolute disgust that Yaz (from Sheffield) and Dan (from Liverpool) feel about unexpectedly finding themselves in Manchester is filling me with such joy like their Faces
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[ID: a digital comic based on the owl house, featuring Hunter and Willow. The comic is a redraw of the "alphabet confession" meme comic. In the first panel, Hunter stands nervously in front of Willow, saying "I..". The next panel is a closeup of Hunter as he continues, saying "I...I" with an intense expression. In the third panel Hunter stops and looks suprised as Willow (partly off screen) continues, saying "J, K, L, M, N, O, P...". The next panel is a closeup of Willow, somewhat bashful, continuing listing the alphabet, now on "Q, R, S, T, U, V...". The penultimate panel is a closeup of Hunter as he finishes off the alphabet for her, saying "W, X, Y, and Z". He looks equally bashful. The final panel shows Hunter and Willow holding each other and seemingly spinning in mid air as flower petals circle around them. The comic is in black and white with the gutters between panels being light pink, and Hunter and Willow are both in their post-thanks to them designs. End ID]
HAPPY 1 WEEK TIL FOR THE FUTURE! Here's a silly comic idea that would not leave my head <3 they are so fucking stupid
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natade-art · 10 months
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a half-finished copy of a cytologist, the worlds worst heroine, and a mathematician catboy walk into a bar
ID: a drawing of Jack-O' Valentine from Guilty Gear, Akane Kurashiki from Zero Escape, and Sho Minamimoto from The World Ends With You sitting together in conversation at a round table, each with a drink in front of them. Jack-O' has a curious expression, one finger to her lips in thought. Akane rests her face in the palm of one hand, smiling. Minamimoto is grinning, one hand gesturing as he talks.
Each one has a little box of text pointing to them -- Jack-O's says: "has info from almost 200 years of further scientific knowledge, but in a world where Y2K was real." Akane is "participating in the conversation but also watching Junpei quote Back to the Future in another timeline." and Minamimoto "will leave as soon as his milkshake is finished. Cooperation is garbage." and an additional box points out that he is only 18, and thus probably shouldn't be in a bar. end ID
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sesamenom · 8 months
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Aragorn and Arwen taking a walk through Minas Tirith (she's venting about how maglor disappeared again right before el&el were going to drag him to valinor)
(Aragorn has a very good fashion sense, if he was a Noldorin ambassador living in Numenor during the Late Elros Era. Arwen is also very stylish for early Doriathrim royalty. The rest of Gondor got used to it eventually.)
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doomed-era · 7 months
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thinking about the (probably) unintentional symbolism of the master sword's state often reflecting link's in the botw trilogy, swords being frequently described as an extension of yourself in popular media, the master sword as an extension of link and link an extension of it. he really is a living weapon if you think about it too hard
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emmaspolaroid · 1 month
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i know you think i’m someone you can trust
(new SxF print for conventions! close-up under the cut <3 | ko-fi)
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daylighteclipsed · 9 months
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Y’all ever think about if Sora falls to darkness that inside his heart will look like the Destiny Islands falling again
#i do a lot#kingdom hearts#one of the biggest reasons i think we’ll see something like this in canon. briefly at least#not only would parallel ddd w ven’s heart/armor no longer there to protect sora#and roxas and xion gone from sora’s heart too. so sora would be alone#and actually there as opposed to in the RoL/awake when riku dives in#but also there is no way nomura’s gonna pass up the chance to bring us full circle like this. he loves making his characters revisit/relive#worlds and memories like this to make a point. and sora’s heart was sunset in ddd… following kh1 the dark and stormy night comes next#The thought of sora and riku reaffirming their love and friendship here when it broke the first time the islands fell#both of them having to in a way relive this horrible night for the final time#but riku doing the total opposite of last time. trying to save sora trying to stop the darkness from consuming everything#being totally honest with sora. reaching his hand out for sora but this time he’s not being consumed by darkness.#he’s become the light in the darkness. and they finally reach each other they finally grasp hands. I’m chewing on glass#i don’t think sora would ‘fall’ to darkness in the traditional sense#thematically i think it makes more sense for him to be faced w another martyr choice#though his own negative feelings would still be tangled up in there. and this would parallel kh3#and if sora chooses to let darkness into his heart to save others it’d also parallel kh1 w riku choosing to open the door/let the darkness#into destiny islands at the risk of others#god it’d be just like kh1 but we’d be playing as riku and he’d be the one looking frantically for sora#a reversed dynamic. but now they understand each other’s pain and feelings so they can reach each other#figuratively and literally#i love parallels i love symbolism i love themes kick my ass !!!!
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lizardthelizard · 2 months
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Arnold Rimmer and Duane Dibbley in 'Can't Smeg, Won't Smeg'
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pixelatedraindrops · 14 days
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Yuma Month: Day 25: Broken
Night terrors, burning body temperature, delirious hallucinations, and glassy faded vision…
Helpless and afraid, he calls out for his caretaker…but he’s not there…
He’s all alone now…with no one to help…
Completely broken.
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avariantflaire · 7 months
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Levi wasn't ready to lose her.
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In this period of grief, we see him stoop down by the smallest body in the line-up to recover their Scouts patch. It is the first and only time we ever see him do this in the series.
For someone whose philosophy is to make a choice with no regrets, regardless of the outcome; for someone who takes much time and care to reflect over his fallen comrades; we never see a scene like this again for the rest of SNK. He experiences this "Crushing Blow" (title of S1 E21, where his squad is slaughtered), and in "The Defeated" (S1 E22), stops to gaze - what was that, in his gaze? - at Petra's broken body by the tree.
Then he takes Petra's, and only Petra's, patch.
For every battle before and each battle henceforth, he comes prepared to lose everything. But in this one expedition, for this one soldier, he didn't. So he takes her patch.
"It's proof that they existed, at least for me." (Levi, in The Defeated)
He needed proof that she existed, because he wasn't ready to lose her.
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prolibytherium · 4 months
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I go into shows with zero expectation that any gay shit will actually happen but I REALLY thought Dee and the waitress were going to fuck in the Ladies Boggs Reboot. Like all the 'horny but there are no MEN on this plane!!'/the Chris Evert scissoring joke + "you're my Chris Evert"/the waitress mistaking Dee for Dennis in a drunken haze etc I really thought the natural conclusion would be them having a truly awful airplane bathroom hookup and probably never speaking of it again, as a gag. BUT ALAS
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pencildragons · 5 months
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snippet from my upcoming foxquin fic sinner, sinner (come to dinner) for foxquinweek !!!!!
“Commander Fox,” says the Chancellor, smiling his kindly smile. Fox stands very still and stares straight ahead, past Palpatine and through the great transparisteel window at the city below, skyline exploding in the brilliance of the sun’s final dying rays. The fanciful part of him that will one day be responsible for his death imagines that, if he’s just still enough, Palpatine will forget him entirely. It’s ridiculous, he knows, he knows, of course he knows, but he clings to it anyway, endeavours to move as little as possible, turns trying to hide even the slight rise and fall of his chest into some sort of test of how good his impression of being a block of stone is. “Sir,” says Fox. “Commander Fox,” Palpatine says again, still smiling that awful fucking smile, but sadder, now, mournful, bushy eyebrows doing something terrible and expressive. “You have disappointed me.” “Yes, sir.” “I gave you a very simple directive, Commander, and still you failed.” Fox is barely breathing now. Only a few klicks away, the spire of the Jedi Temple burns in a halo of pink-red, spearing through the cloud-strewn sky. It looks like one of the paintings hung in the Senate rotunda corridors, the ones that like as not cost more to procure than he did. His throat is dry. He tries to swallow. It sticks. It is likely he is dehydrated. There is a little light flashing on top of the spire, warning away in-atmo transports and low-flying starships. Orange-blue-green. Orange-blue-green. He stares at it, so he doesn’t have to look at Palpatine. “Yes, sir.” “Such inadequacy is, of course, unacceptable, Commander, as I’m sure you’re aware. I really had hoped it would not come to this, you understand.” Liar, Fox thinks. You love this. “But there is only one way to learn, and that is through experiencing consequences of your actions. Perhaps next time you will not take your sworn duty so lightly, hmm?” “Yes, sir.” “Draw your blaster, please, Commander.” Fox blinks and, in his surprise, breaks his stillness to turn his head to face Palpatine properly. “…Sir?” “Must I repeat myself twice? Draw your blaster from your holster.” Slowly, Fox draws. He wonders if this is some sort of test, if he’s going to be punished further for making his weapon naked in front of the Supreme Chancellor of the entire fucking Republic. (In the light of the dusk spilling through the window into the opulent office, Palpatine’s eyes seem almost gold. It is for but a brief moment, just the rays of the fat sun catching oddly, and then they return to that sharp, ice-chip grey like nothing at all happened.) “Good,” says Palpatine, and smiles again. Like this, he looks like some natborn’s father’s father—grandfather, he believes the term is—all benevolent wrinkles and knowing looks. “Set it to kill.” Fox sets it to kill. It is not a difficult thing. He is just as much a weapon as the blaster in his hands, well-oiled, clean, smooth. Efficient. He was designed for this. It is easier to follow orders mindlessly; his brain, like all their brains (except, perhaps, Kote’s, but Kote’s a little fucked up and is an outlier for everything else, anyway), is primed for command, made to obey. A perfect, thoughtless gun, with just enough ruthlessness and self-determination to set them apart from the CIS’ droids. That’s the idea, anyway. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time the Kaminoans failed in the execution of something. “Turn around, Commander,” Palpatine murmurs, words soft and smooth and rich as the heavy velvet-fabric from his home planet that he has all his clothes cut from. “And fire at will.”
rbs deeply appreciated :]
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