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#thank you! doing the lord's work
little-guys-tourney · 8 months
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propaganda for characters with none:
Barcus Wroot: BEST GNOME. he deserved better. i could give him the world if the devs let me. barcus should not only be recruitable, nay, he should be romanceable. change my mind
Prince Naveen: adapted rather quickly to being a little guy. best disney prince. plays the ukelele.
Mii-kun: just look at him. prime little guy energy right there
Roddy St. James: BEST ANIMATED MOUSE
Remy: BEST ANIMATED RAT
Jedediah and Octaviaus: the original little guys! they're soooo in love
Enseo: the protagonist of a webtoon about being a little guy!
Nod: king of fashion!! his clothes are made of leafs
Zak Young: king of ENVIRONMENTALISM!!!
.
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obsob · 8 months
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the accolade ( the...the cat-olade...)
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Revenge.
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andi-o-geyser · 9 months
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everyone say thank you subtitle team
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wisteriagoesvroom · 3 months
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my favourite screencaps from the quadlock 8 minuter with oscar piastri that sent me into outer space
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(i can't gif for shit so pls enjoy...whatever this is <3)
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concreteemo · 5 months
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Silly, cute, stage Noah. 🥹
THE GIGGLEs
I am simply *passing away*
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butw0rldenough · 6 months
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90's Steve Yzerman interviews really just hit different
Bonus:
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joenateuser · 7 months
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robotsandramblings · 13 hours
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ok but actually one of my absolute favourite things about this fandom is how y'all notice even the smallest patches of bare exposed skin on the [armored] clones, even when the scene lighting is absolute shit
me: enjoying random screenshots and gifs of The Bad Batch
all y'all:
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DID YOU SEE THAT SQUARE MILLIMETRE OF EXPOSED SKIN????? OH MY GOD I NEED TWO COLD SHOWERS
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hellishfig · 6 days
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it's really beautiful to tune into the fireside chat and hear aabria and erika teaching brennan and [insert lou's replacement here] about things like onceler self-cest and the omegaverse
the only person i know irl who is caught up on wbn and subscribes to the patreon is also my ex boyfriend, and many conversations that we had in high school sounded very similar to today's fireside chat
brings back wonderful memories of inflicting psychic damage on those nearest and dearest to me
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sammyche · 1 month
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Tim Roth For Cosmopoliton Magazine (January 1987)
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sunny-sainz · 2 months
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he’s so old money coded it’s not even funny
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chiisana-sukima · 8 months
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What's your favourite headcanon of something that happened in the Impala?
After Dean dies, Sam keeps the Impala sacrosanct. Even after he shuts down the bunker and he's starting to hunt less because he's aware his grief and depression are making him reckless and he'll probably get himself killed and he promised Dean he'd live--even then, he still keeps everything in the Impala exactly as it was. He listens to Dean's rickety ancient cassettes and keeps all Dean's phones charged and in the glove box, and if anyone calls in on one, those hunts he always takes.
But then DJ is born. Sam wants to be a good father. He settles down and gets a home and a second car, but the Impala is still his first home and it's Dean's legacy, and would Dean want his nephew to treat it like a couch wrapped in plastic at some distant elderly relative's house? Is that really honoring him?
So he gets a car seat for the Impala. He takes DJ out on rides. DJ spits up on the vinyl. He spills his organic 100% all natural no added ingredients cran-razz juice boxes all over everything. Miracle continues to shed everywhere.
DJ goes to kindergarten. He wants to listen to the same dumb kids' music as all his friends. Sam looks for cassettes of it, but of course there aren't any, even on ebay, so he grits his teeth and installs an ipod jack again. His nightmares get worse for a few nights, but nothing bad happens. It's fine and DJ loves it.
No one calls on Dean's old phones anymore. Sam lets the batteries run dead. He listens to his own music in the house and in his other car, of course, but in the Impala, except for DJ's picks, he still only listens to Dean's tapes; the ones that used to be their father's. Miracle scratches the seats up when they forget to trim his claws.
DJ keeps growing. He turns 16. Sam teaches him to drive in his other car, but he should get to drive Dean's car too. Dean would want him to.
Their first drive out together in the Impala with DJ behind the wheel, DJ grins slyly and says, "Hey, dad. I got you some old people music."
DJ shuffles through his ipod, and they drive out together through the autumn countryside, windows down and DJ's pick for Sam blasting from the speakers. His son knows him. It's Green Day, Sam's favorite all those years ago in college.
"Well, maybe I'm the faggot, America," he and DJ sing at the top of their lungs. Red and yellow leaves fall all around them. He feels centered and happy. There's no denying it's good.
"In television dreams of tomorrow, we're not the ones who're meant to follow," they yell together.
Dean would've liked this song if he'd let himself.
Maybe in Heaven when Sam gets there.
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snackhobi · 10 months
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More ‘Straight Shooter’ lore yesssss I love that fic so much!!!!!!! Things I like to imagine after the ending: 1) JK about to go on his first mission and y/n cooing over him and fully kitting him out whilst Yoongi pouts 2) a rooftop date where Yoongi is like “sorry I’ve sniped here before but the view is beautiful” and y/n is like “you thought of me?? 🥺” 3) general domestic scenes in the Hobi/Yoongi/JK Household
I wrote this in like 20 minutes, thank you to @morndas for looking at this and assuring me it wasn't terrible (I haven't written anything in the straight shooter verse for literal years now)
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a rooftop date where Yoongi is like “sorry I’ve sniped here before but the view is beautiful” and y/n is like “you thought of me?? 🥺”
straight shooter snippet ; 1
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Familiarity breeds contempt, they say.
Yoongi doesn’t think so.
Then again, Yoongi’s found he doesn’t always agree with what everyone else says - what they say, what they think, what they do. Maybe it’s because he’s always hyperaware of his surroundings. He has to be in his line of work, after all. Contempt is a luxury he doesn’t allow himself to foster. A single slip-up and he could be dead.
The lower levels are looked down upon by those who live above. In the upper levels they turn up their noses, turn away from the grime and the filth, the decaying foundations that have been neglected for far too long. Dirty, ugly, abandoned, they say, even as they continue to build atop them, profit from them. There’s nothing beautiful down there.
But they don’t know the city like he does.
They don’t know about this secret perch, hidden atop a darkened skyscraper, dilapidated and hollow.
They don’t know that the lower city shines.
All the strata rise from here, a graduated terrace that ascends upwards and upwards. Each level sparkles and glitters, glowing even in the darkness, a kaleidoscope of neon colour that would be a riotous clamour if one were too close. Instead, from this distance it all blurs into one, a shimmering gradient that softens all the sharp edges of this place into something beautiful. Being at the bottom of this cascading array means that an onlooker can tilt their head back and never find an end to it all, almost, like they could lean further and further back and never fall. That they would be caught in this neverending ouroboros of light and life.
There’s nothing beautiful down there, they say, but Yoongi knows that’s not true.
Because, after all, you’re here.
You’re here in the lower city, and you’re here beside him. You’re here, staring up at all of these lights with eyes wide open, drinking in this view, the endless constellations that make up a city of man-made stars.
“It’s hardly easy to get up here,” you say. “Not exactly a great place for a tourist attraction, if that’s what you were planning.”
Yoongi lets himself smile. He’s been doing that a lot more recently. Smiling. Usually when you’re around.
(Who would have thought?)
“I was using it as a sniper’s nest,” Yoongi says. “I thought you’d like the view.”
You turn towards him. As far away as you are from all those lights, those shooting stars, you still shine brighter still. (Bold, brilliant, bright. Beautiful.)
“You thought of me?”
(Sniper rifle of your making braced against his body, staring down a scope that you’d built, weapon loaded with bullets that you’d designed. The remembered press of your lips on his temple, his mouth, his neck. The lights of the city haloed around his view even as he focused in on his target below.)
“Yes,” he says.
(It’s just you, and him, and the endless lights below you. In your own hidden world away from everything else.)
And - with no bite behind it, no hidden laughter, nothing but a rare moment of unguarded fondness - you smile.
Familiarity breeds contempt, they say, but there are some things that Yoongi grows more familiar with day by day and will never grow tired of.
(Even if he’d never say it out loud.)
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wearevillaneve · 5 months
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Sandra Oh and Awkwafina at the 2024 Critics Choice Awards. (sandraohonline)
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