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#valiantly
wiirocku · 4 months
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Psalm 60:12 (NKJV) - Through God we will do valiantly, For it is He who shall tread down our enemies.
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purple-raspberries · 3 months
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Yes!!! I’m done!!! God dam that was an Effort but I am done! Said I might not color it but then I added color and couldn’t help myself. I’ll have to do smaller scribble comics next time, without so much detail. Work on simplicity.
Anyway! Don’t worry! Julie’s a tough cookie and Eddies pretty strong, and it takes them a sec to remember this. I made this comic with the idea of these two getting carried away and it ending in a dramatic fashion over something stupid. It’s an endlessly amusing trope to me (I laugh every time)
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cephalonheadquarters · 10 months
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my new oc Callie's butch salmonid girlfriend
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pencap · 20 days
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put down the world, soldier mine. your body is strong, i know, but you are not granite. your shoulders were not made to bend so steep. your knees were not made to buckle so low. your bones were not made to hold so much. Atlas was a condemnation, not a guidebook on how to bear the weight of the world.
rest your wings, soldier mine. you were made to fly, i know, but not like this. the sun above is not meant to be your seduction. the ocean below is not meant to be your enemy. the jetstream is not meant to be your companion. Icarus was a warning, not a challenge to see how high you can soar.
lay down your weapons, soldier mine. you fight so well, i know, but not every battle is yours. your fists are not damned to be perpetual weapons. your scars are not damned to mark you in disgrace. your blood is not damned to spill upon a sword. Achilles was a cautionary tale, not an instruction manual on how to fight to your death.
soldier mine, you are not Atlas nor Icarus nor Achilles.
you are only you, soldier mine, and i am only yours, and we are only this here now.
- by sylvie (j.p.)
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libraryofgage · 4 months
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A Place Like Steve in a Boy Like This (2)
Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One | Two | Three Rick and Evelyn O'Connell One | Two (you're here!) Harley Quinn One 10th Doctor and Rose One | Two (on the way!) Scooby Gang (there are plans for this one lmao, so plz be patient with me orz) Jedidiah and Octavius (from Night at the Museum) (I also have plans for this one actually they just need to simmer a little lmao)
Hi welcome back to my Mummy Crossover where Steve's parents are Rick and Evelyn O'Connell this took forever bcuz the words didn't want to word correctly lmao
Anyway, here we are! Some interactions, some more insight on all of Steve's talents, a teensy bit of chaos killed before it could flourish. What more could you want?
As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)
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"Breathe in."
Steve slowly inhales, keeping his chest and arms steady.
"Now pull as you breathe out."
Steve steadily exhales, squeezing the trigger as he does, and feeling the gun kick in his hand. Several yards away, a tin can that's little more than a speck in the distance topples to the ground.
Before Steve can realize his aim was good, the gun is plucked from his hand and he's lifted into the air. Weightlessness overwhelms him, and he shrieks with delight as he falls back into his father's arms. "That's my boy!" his father says, tossing him into the air again.
"Oh, do be careful, Rick. He broke an arm the last time you threw him around like that," Steve's mother says, a proud smile tugging at her lips despite her words.
Steve finds himself safely held in his father's arms a second later, his heart racing and his breaths short from exhilaration. "Again! Again!" he shouts, looking up at his father hopefully.
"Sorry, kiddo, you heard your mother," his father says, messing up Steve's hair before lifting him onto his shoulders. Steve grips his father's hair tightly, grinning as his father jogs over to the tin can. "You'll be able to shoot running in no time."
"Am I gonna be as good as you?" Steve asks, leaning over his father's head. "How long will that take?"
"You'll be better than me, Steve. It'll take a few years, though. At least one hundred."
"One hundred?! I'm gonna be bones by then! Dust and bones!"
"Nah, you'll be fine," his father says, waving his hand dismissively.
"I'll be dead!"
"In my experience, the dead don't make a habit of staying that way."
Steve huffs and rolls his eyes, pinching his father's cheeks and tugging on them until he laughs, grabs Steve's hand, and playfully bites his fingers. Steve shrieks again, laughing as he tugs his hand away and yanks on a few strands of his father's hair for revenge.
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Steve, Max, and Eddie get discharged within days of each other, and even though Steve was expecting his house to be invaded by his friends, he still finds himself wishing he'd had a few more days with his parents before everyone showed up and started interrogating him. In fact, he almost considers ignoring the doorbell when it rings the day after Max is discharged.
"Steve!" Rick shouts, his voice carrying all the way from his carefully maintained weapons room. "Can you get that?"
"Can't put it off any longer," Robin says, grinning at him from her spot on the couch. She stretches out her leg and nudges Steve's thigh, urging him to get up.
He sighs, pushing himself off the couch and grimacing at the slight tug on his sides. "Got it," he calls back, walking to the door and bracing himself before opening it.
The porch is packed with his friends, Dustin and Eddie at the very front. "Finally!" Dustin says, pushing past Steve to get into the house.
Everyone else streams in after him, and Steve ends up just holding the door. "Yeah, welcome in, make yourselves at home, thanks so much for calling before showing up," he mutters, closing the door after the final person, Will, has walked inside.
He follows after them, relieved they filter into the living room instead of heading to the kitchen. Uncle Jonathan has been in there all day, trying his hand at a new gin brewing technique that makes Steve's head spin just thinking about it.
Steve flops onto the couch next to Robin, dropping his head onto her shoulder. Dustin looks ready to speak, and Steve is ready to pretend he's listening, when his mother walks into the room. She looks around with a concerned frown, her fingers covering her mouth and tapping against her lips. "Steve," she says, her voice slightly distracted, "dónde está el machete de tu papá?"
"En el garaje," he replies, waving off her thanks.
"You speak Spanish?" Max asks, glancing at Evelyn as she walks past her to reach the garage.
"I speak several languages," Steve tells her. He feels the couch shift next to him and looks over to see Will scooting over to make room for Eddie. "Spanish, Hebrew, Arabic, Egyptian, French, Greek, a little Urdu, but that one is rusty."
"Holy shit," Mike says, staring at Steve like he's shapeshifted into an alien, "you're smart?!"
"Wait, is that how you guys cracked the Russian code so quickly?" Dustin asks. "Why did you make Robin learn Russian if you already knew it?"
"I didn't make Robin do anything. She started learning while I called a guy I know who can speak Russian. He only managed to get back to me the same day Robin got the whole thing translated."
"You know a guy who can speak Russian?" Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow at Steve when he glances over.
Steve shrugs. "I know a lot of guys who know a lot of things. I met all of them while traveling with my parents," he explains.
"Where have you been?" Will asks.
"Every continent except Antarctica. More places than I can count, actually."
"Why did you travel so much?" El asks, her gaze drifting toward the mantle where several of his mother's souvenirs are carefully arranged. "Did those come from your travels?"
"I followed my parents while they worked until high school. And yeah, those are souvenirs, you can pick them up, but be careful."
As though the lack of permission was the only thing holding her back, Max jumps up and hurries over to the mantle, pulling down a small jar and turning it over in her hands. Its lid is shaped like the head of Anubis, and Steve is just realizing what she's picked up when his father walks into the room.
Rick stops, stares at the jar in Max's hand, and then marches over to her, a man on a mission. He swipes the jar, ignoring Max's shout in protest, and looks it over carefully. His expression becomes disbelieving, fond, and annoyed all at once. "Evie!" he shouts, turning around and about to go looking for her when she appears in the doorway.
"No need to shout, dear, I was just in the other room," she says, smiling until she sees the jar he's holding.
Her expression says it all, but Rick still holds the jar up, smiles sweetly at her, and asks lightly, "Evie, darling, is this what I think it is?"
"Well," Evelyn says, rolling her shoulders back in a way that tells Steve they're about to argue. And then start kissing like nobody's around. "It very well might be."
"What is it?" Dustin asks, sliding closer to get a better look at the jar when Rick holds it higher.
"Really, Evie? Did you forget the part where these things are cursed? Did you completely forget what happened to the Americans who touched these?"
"Aren't you American?" Max asks.
"And aren't you touching it?" Erica adds.
"It's certainly not cursed anymore," Evelyn says, walking over and easily plucking the jar from Rick's hands. She looks it over, idly brushing off some of the dust. "Imhotep is thoroughly dead. You made sure of that, dear."
"I'm sorry, did she say cursed?" Mike asks.
"Yes," El says.
As Evelyn and Rick stare each other down, Steve sighs and drops his head on the back of the couch. "It's a jar used in ancient Egypt to store the organs of mummies. That one specifically belonged to Imhotep, a mummy with a curse. He ate people and tried to sacrifice my mom to bring his girlfriend back and killed a bunch of Americans in the process. But Mom and Dad defeated him, like, twice and he hasn't been a problem since, so Mom is pretty sure he's gone for good now."
"There is no way any of that is true," Max says, huffing as Rick takes the jar back before Evelyn can even think of letting Max look at it again. "I mean, seriously? Mummies?"
"Oh, inter-dimensional monsters are perfectly believable, but mummies are a step too far?" Steve asks.
"Inter-dimensional monsters?" Evelyn asks, whirling around on Steve and placing her hands on her hips.
"So that's where he gets it from," Eddie says, his voice soft and more than a little amused.
Before Steve can comment on that (or try to kick Eddie from where he's sitting on the couch), his father moves to stand next to his mother, arms crossed over his chest with a stern look and still holding the jar. "Wanna share with the class, kid?" he asks.
Steve grimaces, knowing that tone of voice and sinking a little lower on the couch. "Not really, no. Most of the class is already in the loop."
"Humor us," his mother says, her voice firm and leaving no room for argument.
"Gee," Erica says, shifting closer to the doorway, "I'm suddenly feeling pretty hungry. Anyone else wanna go loot the kitchen?"
"I'm in," Max says, hurrying across the room in long strides.
"So are we," Mike adds, grabbing Will's hand and dragging him along before he can get caught up in whatever shit storm might occur. Lucas quickly follows after, flashing an apologetic smile at Steve once he's behind Evelyn and Rick.
They've all disappeared before Steve can warn them about Jonathan's gin experiments, but he figures they deserve to have their nostrils burned from the smell for abandoning him.
Only Steve, Robin, Eddie, Dustin, and El are left with Steve's parents frowning and looking at them expectantly. Steve manages to hold out under their stare for a few seconds before he sighs, sits up straight, and waves for them to sit in the loveseat perpendicular to the couch.
Once they're settled, he glances at Dustin, gets a shrug in return, and rolls his eyes. Robin places a hand on his shoulder, getting his attention to flash a grin and say, "Good luck, dingus. Just know I'll be thoroughly entertained by the end of this."
"Gee. Thanks."
Eddie snorts, settles back into the couch, and helpfully offers, "I mean, it can't be worse than being the main course of a demobat feast, right?"
"Oh, I assure you," Evelyn says, her eyes narrowing, "it certainly can."
"Oh, damn," Eddie says, shaking his head, "What do you want on your tombstone, Stevie?"
Steve rolls his eyes as Robin laughs and high-fives Eddie. He ignores them for now, secretly grateful for the lighter feeling in his chest that their joking has given him, and looks at his parents. "I guess it started with Will's disappearance."
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Tag List (there should be room still! So, if you'd like a tag, let me know!)
@trueghostqueen, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @thoughtfulbreadpolice, @mogami13, @blcksh33p1987, @beawritingbooks, @remus-is-trans, @your-confused-friend, @estrellami-1, @nburkhardt, @vacantwatchers, @yeahhhh-suga, @phantomcat94
@blackpanzy, @ape31, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @plantzzsandpencilzzs, @flustratedcas, @anne-bennett-cosplayer, @just-a-tiny-void, @disrespectedgoatman, @fallingleavesinthewind, @nymime, @nectandra, @moomkin77, @nadenia, @resident-disappointment, @copper-arrows, @romanticdestruction, @rowanshadow26
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dumpy-dump · 9 months
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🏆TEAM FAME🏆
NÚMERO 1 CAMPEÃO DO MUNDO!!!!!!1
💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚
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i-hear-a-sound · 11 months
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“Cut back to the bathroom. Adam looks around him, not sure what to do, panicking. Lawrence can’t be dead, he can’t be alone in here. He can’t handle this alone. He needs his calm, collected Doctor, no matter how badly Lawrence has treated him.”
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girls when
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lordisitmine · 3 months
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me: I wrote a lot this week! I'm gonna take this evening off and watch a movie. I know, I'll watch Nimona! I still haven't seen it!
me, two hours later: *crying*
the writing goblin that lives in my head: mother... mother we have Ideas for Fics....
me, still sobbing: no... my wips..... i have to finish my-
the goblin: NO WIPS. ONLY BALLISTER AND AMBROSIUS
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ultrasofts · 2 months
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literally anyone be normal about jonas challenge
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kerizaret · 7 months
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I'm busy rn and working on something longer so have this old comic again
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As we once again enter this odd "fem fortress renaissance", as I like to call it, I feel compelled to post this, which I think about every time I see the term "fem Medic"
[Image ID: Slightly edited Twitter screenshot of a quote retweet. The original tweet, whose OP is censored, now says "Don't get me wrong, I loooove Medic's vibes. But I'm begging everyone in fantasy land to give us more badass old **femme** mad scientists." The quote retweet, by "ravi 'shipping up to boston' teixeira" @.raviteix, now says "The epidemic of saying 'femme' when you want to say 'woman' is actually great because you end up with tweets like this. You mean to tell me Medic isn't a femme queen? You mean to tell me Medic is masc? Medic is serving butch realness?" End ID]
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belligerentbagel · 2 years
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even Atlas has only two hands
vent art
#this one's for all the teachers out there#horror cw#hands cw#draws#after 2.5 years of caution and masking everywhere; i tested positive for covid on wednesday morning (first day of fall semester) 😔#at earliest; i can be back in the classroom on monday#wednesday itself was an absolutely horrible 24 hours (but admittedly the anatomist side of me has been going 'ah! physiological data!')#but thursday and friday were a grim indicator of how much capitalism has rotted my brain#because after getting through 24 hours of a MASSIVE illness with undetermined long-term effects; i felt compelled to return to the#6-hr-sleep 18-hr-waking cycle that i was accustomed to; out of GUILT for falling behind in work#(note: i was NOWHERE near 100% back on thursday. i could have charitably been put at 50% - still headaches & fatigue & productive coughs)#a friend had to very sternly tell me 'you cannot solve structural problems through constant 80-hour-week heroic measures'#'you especially cannot do this when you are recovering from a debilitating illness which has the potential to remain a -#- serious lingering problem if you overwork yourself'#like. gods. yeah. it's not my fault that my classrooms are stuffed to the student maximum that our union has valiantly maintained#it's not my fault that the district only gave us one pre-semester prep day; meaning that my room & plans were left unfinished before day one#and - even bigger; it's not my fault that public health in the US is careening into 'can we pretend hard enough like nothing's happening'#my students will have a milquetoast start this fall semester. that is fine.#their teacher might not be able to stand and talk for longer than ten minutes at a time#i will do what i can. i still care about them. i am reading their introduction emails and smiling a bunch.#but i refuse to allow myself to be consumed in order to keep this fire lit.
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cephalonheadquarters · 5 months
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felagund-fiollaigean · 8 months
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yesterday I was talking with my mom and I learned that the reason we never had carpets in our house when I was growing up was because I loved to dance so much I would dance everywhere through the house so they kept the floors bare so I could keep dancing. love is a poem and a poem is a house with no carpets.
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canisalbus · 9 months
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I love learning things about your characters, even things that might be a little mundane. The thought and care you put into them can really be felt through it your posts always make me smile, so thank you for sharing them and your work with us :)
Thank you, I'm so glad to hear that! I personally enjoy dillydallying on mundane and inconsequential details a lot, often way more than locking down the biggest and most important plot points (which might not be such a good thing but eh). Sometimes it's the littlest things that make a character seem like a living and thinking entity.
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serve-cunt · 2 months
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Don’t Know What You’ve Got Till it’s Gone (mustache)
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