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#Willie Whatever
michaeldamico · 8 months
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THE BETRAYAL HURTS.
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seroothincs · 1 year
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They're literally eating like a fucking family I can't 😭
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hell0mega · 5 months
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people are drawing Steamboat Willie Mickey doing all this crazy shit and whatnot, but you could always do that. you can do that now, with current Mickey, just fine. it's fanart and it's legally protected. hell you could take Disney-drawn Mickey and put a caption about unions or whatever on it and it would still be protected under free speech and sometimes even parody law.
what is special about public domain is that you can SELL him. you could take a screenshot and sell it on a tshirt. you can use him to advertise your plumbing business. people have already uploaded and monetized the original film.
you could always have Mickey say what you want, but now you can profit off it.
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Hi my name is Michael Williard Steamboat Walter Mouse and I have mouse ears (that’s how I got my name) that are black and on either side of my head and feel like fuzzy cotton balls and black soulless eyes that consume lost children of the parks and a lot of people tell me I look like Walt Disney (AN: if you don’t know who he is get da hell out of here!). I’m not related to Remy but I wish I was because he’s a major fucking hottie. I drive a steamboat but Im best at whistling. I’m black and white all over. I’m also the most recognizable public figure other than Santa Claus (he’s disgusting), and I like spending my summers in florida where I’m the most important guy there (everyone loves me). I’m a mouse (in case you couldn’t tell) and I literally only wear shorts and shoes and my steamboat hat. All of my clothing is brand-only because i am a billionaire. For example today I was wearing my favorite pair of white shorts (some people say they’re red but they are haterz) and my matching steamboat hat, my full circle black eyeliner, white face paint, my white shoes that come up to my ankles and are very soft and nothing else because I am a mouse. I was driving my steamboat and spinning the wheel. It was sunny and I had the feeling like a movie was about to start, which I was very happy about. Ron DeSantis stared at me. I put my middle finger up at him.
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m3ntally-unstable · 2 months
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When you read a really good fic but then after ur done reading it, realising that it was a part of a series so now your dying because now you’ve ruined it.
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orionfrommars · 8 months
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prince version again —kinda built off of the last drawing but cleaned it up a bit more 👻
[Please do not steal, trace, repost, or do anything with my work.]
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Will Wood? In my Percy Jackson? Its more likely than you think.
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gigifluidcat · 5 months
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transsexualcoriolanus · 8 months
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"kill claudio" this, "kill claudio" that. kill leonato. he believed a guy who he'd known for like a week over his literal daughter, joined him in publicly accusing and humiliating her, told her he wished she had never been born, then had the fucking audacity to tell claudio how awful he was for 'killing' hero, when he not only let him do it but encouraged and joined in with him
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angelbitezzz · 19 days
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Recently read Tilikum by Llama_Goddess on Ao3 (check out the link it's so good) and it gave me some interesting brainrot ideas
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Fic under the cut
A day dawned like any other for Sans. Get out of bed, work various odd jobs, slack off at said odd jobs, and get home to sleep some more.
Today was a new gig—Janitor work at the local aquarium. It was good, easy work. He'd been all sorts of things in his time both underground and now on the surface, so he was largely left to his own devices practically since the first day.
Some kid spilled one of those themed ice creams on the floor in front of one of the siren tanks. Big attractions, those guys. Not quite human, too physical to be a monster, they sort of floated in this odd in-between state of natural existence. Word was that the song of one would easily lead you to your drowning death. It was a good thing that glass was thick and soundproof, otherwise any of the ones held captive would likely jump at the chance.
Sans mopped away at the spill slowly, dragging out the task. The place was closing for the night soon, he certainly didn't want to be redirected to something else when he had such an easy job right here. A whistle leaked from between his teeth, some song he'd heard on TV earlier in the day.
The room was empty now. With the evening settling in and closing time within the hour, no one had come by to this one since he'd gotten here. Probably since this specific siren didn't seem a fan of performance, or being seen. You were lucky to get a glimpse of it if it was feeling curious on a given day, or so Sans had heard.
He wrung the mop in the bucket and set about just mopping the entire room, still whistling away. But a chill ran up his spine, halting his movements.
The unmistakable, burning feeling of being watched.
He turned his head slow, pupils sliding up along the glass he stood next to until they connected with a bright purple gaze that seemed to peer right through him.
The siren.
It—She? She floated right there, hand pressed against the glass. Her pupils were blown wide open, though they dilated just a little when their eyes met properly. There was something curious about the look on her face, so human if not for the subtle shine of fine scales along her brown skin. Dark hair drifted around her face, some kind of kelp braided into it at certain spots, that same stuff even braided and tied together to make up the cloth she was wearing around her chest. Did sirens care for modesty? He didn't know. Her lower half was that of a fish, something tropical he hadn't bothered to learn the name of. Powerful muscles twitched the end of the tail, keeping her afloat in the same position with ease.
He wasn't sure when he'd stopped breathing. It seemed like time itself had stopped when he realized he was being watched. Was this typical of sirens? Did the gaze of one paralyze as much as the song?
No, that couldn't be the case. Otherwise they wouldn't bother with displaying them at all.
When he didn't react behind meeting her gaze, she seemed to relax just a little. Her eyes slid along his form, taking in the details of his Janitor's uniform and the bones that were visible.
"huh. you're, uh, curious, i guess?"
Sans wasn't sure why he was talking, it wasn't as if she could hear him. But the way his eternal grin moved with the speech seemed to fascinate her. She lowered herself to be more at eye level, both hands against the glass. He slowly put his mop back in the bucket and turned towards her, tugging at his gloves to pull them tighter before stepping closer. The siren didn't move, only followed every movement with that same burning gaze.
"heya." Sans gave a little wave, the way the kid had taught him.
The siren waved back, copying his movement exactly. Then she did something new—she pointed at him. He pointed at himself.
"me?"
She nodded and did something else, crossed her hands over her chest in fists, only the index and middle finger half extended. She bumped them together at the wrist, tapping the fingers to her shoulders and sliding them down to a point at her mid-chest. When he responded with a blank stare, she repeated it. His head tilted.
"now what does that mean...?"
The siren only did it once more before she seemed to give up. She made a recognizable motion this time, both hands in fists together and turning down as if snapping something. He almost frowned.
"that a threat?"
Her face broke out into a wide smile, revealing teeth sharper than he expected before she was laughing on the other side of the glass. There was no other explanation for what she was doing, she was laughing, entirely too amused by his reaction as her shoulders shook. His grin widened a little at that. Well, at least someone here was having fun?
The siren seemed to recover from her fit and gazed at him once more, pupils dilated again. Then they flickered up—an alarmed look flashed over her features before she was suddenly gone. There was a flick of her great tail and then she had twisted away into the kelp and seaweed populating her tank, only the waves of the greenery giving away how fast she'd moved. Sans glanced backwards, feeling oddly like a kid caught doing something he wasn't supposed to when he met the fascinated stare of a fellow janitor.
"hey, paul. uh. somefin the matter?"
"....I didn't see a damn thing."
The older human just turned and walked out, grumbling something about working here for too damn long just for a newbie to get the attention of one of the shyer sirens. Whatever that was about.
When the intercom crackled to life to announce the night's closing, Sans cast one last glance at the tank as he retrieved his bucket and mop.
The siren was nowhere to be seen.
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honeyed-lemonade · 2 months
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hands down I think the best writing choice of anthony’s in all of s2 was grant shooting terry (semi) consciously. soooo much more fucked up than willy just being willy. love you tony you sure know how to make a man mentally ill
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seroothincs · 1 year
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Am I the only one that is completely invested in these four characters so much so that I created personal headcanons for them and even build up backstories? Am I the only one?!
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muppetjohntavares · 2 months
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Hate it when he goes, love it when he goes, you know how it is. (Willy Styles jersey butt appreciation)
(Picture credit to Minas Panagiotakis, Mark Blinch and Vitor Munhoz)
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mishapen-dear · 5 months
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why were the eggs so dirty the day before they left. why was pomme cracked. that happened BEFORE they left. they couldnt remember what happened. What the FUCK was that about
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cerayanay · 2 years
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moghedien · 5 months
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Happy "Mickey Mouse has begun to go into the public domain" Day
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