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#they're american!
beesinabiscuit · 2 years
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Ice Ice Baby
Chapter 1: The Greatest Newspaper Article Ever Written
It's almost time for the 2022 Winter Olympics and all eyes are on Ice Dance's latest dynamic duo: America's James Potter and Lily Evans. The favorites to win gold have been entertaining the masses on and off the ice with their brilliant performances, their undeniable chemistry, and how freaking hot they both are. But everyone wants to know: are they a thing?
Ask James Potter, and he’ll say Lily is the most important person in his life and they make an amazing team.
Ask Lily Evans, and she’ll blush a lot and say the same.
One’s in love, one’s in denial. Can they skate the perfect routine, figure out their feelings, and get through an interview with Jimmy Fallon without insulting the man in front of his live studio audience?
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American nutjob politicians will say stuff like: "We need climate change because tornadoes will carry us to heaven during the rapture! The terrorists are stealing Christmas!" and British politicians are like... you'll just casually find out they were 5 times asbestos eating champion of the Lower Prickwhiggle Club, their university entry interview consisted of throwing endangered toads at poor people from a bus, and everyone at their hometown knows them as that rich family whose Estate is the only remaining continuous bubonic plague vector since 1348 bc they traditionally wear squirrels for hats.
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theminecraftbee · 4 months
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Etho and Grian are back at base, hysterically laughing over their achievement. Cleo sits inside, staring, as the two of them talk about getting a wither and a warden to fight, and tries to figure out what she feels about it.
In some ways it's not their fault. Task made them do it and all that. Plus--
Well, it's not like she and Etho are losing hearts anytime soon. They've both done a damn good job keeping themselves from dying. A benefit, Cleo thinks, of deciding to team with Etho this time. Between the two of them, they'll largely only do chaos they can recover from. Maybe this is their game. Maybe this time, Cleo manages to stick with someone until the very end. It looks like it. It looks like...
Grian, of course, is the confounding factor.
She wasn't going to turn him away. He needed allies. They needed someone a bit better at actually doing damage than herself or Etho. It's mutually beneficial. And, besides, he's weirdly lovable, in an inherently kind of dangerous way. A little like loving a bobcat someone had accidentally raised as a pet cat until it got a bit too big and stinky and murdery for them. Like, yeah, he shouldn't be domesticated and he's not, really, in any sense of the word, but it's a bit sad to watch him try to survive on his own now, right?
Hah. Maybe that's what Scar managed to do to him. Would explain a lot, really.
Anyway, he's her bobcat now, which is the problem.
See the thing is: Cleo understands Etho. It's why finally deciding to be partners for once felt... right. They're similar flavors of people. Scared, mostly. Survivors, but not in the 'will stab anyone' way that like, Martyn is. Loyal, although Cleo has no delusions that Etho is as loyal as she. And scared. Has she already said that? Scared. It's important to the kinds of things she and Etho are. Like... mountain lions, maybe. Mountain lions that have been around just enough people to know how dangerous they are. Like that.
God, she's only doing cat metaphors. Bdubs really is turning them all into furries.
Anyway, the point is, Grian isn't scared.
And that... terrifies her.
That's scarier than anything else. Because, see, Cleo wants to survive. But more than that, she wants her partners to survive. And she and Etho, the two of them are doing well. Better than most people. They're green and they have so many hearts.
But Grian? Grian's yellow and not afraid and goading Etho into not being afraid too. It's not their fault, exactly, Cleo thinks. They both had hard tasks. They didn't have a choice, Cleo thinks.
But. But.
She doesn't know what to do, if Etho gets convinced the humans down the mountain aren't scary. She doesn't know what to do if he gets too close. She doesn't know what to do if he gets hurt.
Because she--she doesn't think she can learn to stop being scared, anymore.
But she also doesn't know how many times her heart can stand to lose someone.
Did you know--wild cats are social? They have a reputation for being loners, but mountain lions, they're social. They don't do well being alone. They don't actually hunt solely alone. That's the important bit here. They seem independent, sure, but actually...
Anyway. This is Bdubs's fault. For making her a furry, apparently.
She watches Grian and Etho scheme together and sits back and breathes and tells herself that Etho isn't going to stop being afraid anytime soon. That if push came to shove, he, at least, would retreat back, and that maybe the two of them could convince Grian to retreat too. Safe from hunters. Safe from red.
Maybe safe from hurting each other, too.
(She's not so sure about that part.)
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hanbbin · 5 months
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Gazan refugee from the noth tells al Jazeera: we were trapped home for two days and when we finally couldn't stay any longer we held white flags and stepped out of our building. tanks were everywhere and my brother negotiated with soldiers to let us go and that we were civilians and had elderly people with us. the soldier my brother spoke with wasn't israeli, his uniform had an American flag 🇺🇸. He was American. 🔻
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ekat-fandom-blog · 8 months
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Danny had no idea how Vortex had caused such a big commotion that it impacted the inhabitants of Atlantis, but he had. Now he had to attend a meeting with the King and Queen of Atlantis to apologise for the inconvenience.
Meanwhile, Arthur and Mera had heard from multiple sources that the being that caused so much destruction from above the ocean was from a place called The Infinite Realms and the one they were going to have a meeting with was the High King. They'd learned that the Infinite Realms was a parallel dimension full of ghosts.
What in the world could a monarch of an afterlife want from Atlantis?
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DDVAU by @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11 got me feeling a certain type of way <3
Alt + closeups under the cut :D
If you reblog i kiss you passionately on the mouth /platonic
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rcrisdraws · 29 days
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With dedication to @skippylynn you're gonna get to see the horses after all :D
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doodlerh · 1 year
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imagine going to pop star school and ur roommates are taylor swift and beyonce
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ffcrazy15 · 2 months
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Someone needs to do an analysis on the way the Kung Fu Panda movies use old-fashioned vs. modern language ("Panda we meet at last"/"Hey how's it going") and old-fashioned vs. modern settings (forbidden-city-esque palaces/modern-ish Chinese restaurant) to indicate class differences in their characters, and how those class differences create underlying tensions and misunderstandings.
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sunnylolli · 1 year
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I’ve written a little drabble along with this below, because I just- I just needed this
(”Marry me, Archie” by Flyte, sets the scene)
Arthur wakes to a crackling sound followed by a baby fussing and blinks himself awake.
He takes a deep inhale through his nose, turning his head towards the baby monitor then further to the alarm clock.
He sighs, lifting both hands to rub at his face, the skin of his palms dry and his face even more so.
4 hours.
Definitely a step forward, a new record.
"Qu’l heure…"
The fussing from the monitor continues, small cries taking on in volume. He’ll have to go in before Matthew wakes up as well.
“I’ve got it. Go back to sleep.”
Arthur mumbles groggily, pushing himself up reluctantly and pulling the duvet aside.
A warm hand brushes at his back and he pauses to sit at the edge of the bed. He eyes the monitor, then the open door ahead of him.
The house is cold and he shivers, counting to three then reaches behind him to give Francis’ hand a squeeze and a lazy kiss, before heaving himself to stand with a grunt.
The shirt he wore yesterday is the closest at hand and he pulls it on to ward off the chills until he can get back to bed and steps into the pair of slippers that stand by the door when he finally drags himself out of the bedroom and down along the corridor.
He runs a flat hand across his hair, brushing it out of his face and closing his eyes while he walks.
He refuses to turn the lights on, the house isn’t that dark and it’s maneuverable. The light always seems to disturb Alfred more than help him anyway, especially sick, he seems particularly light sensitive after waking.
His slippers drag against the wooden flooring and leads him to the room next door.
The door is ajar, a point they make to keep everything open and easy to access. He steps into the doorway, giving the door a gentle push.
He’s greeted by the softest of light from a winnie-the-pooh night light sitting in the outlet at the end of the room and Arthur thanks the heavens it’s as dull and old as it is, to shine so softly.
The first crib he sees is with Matthew. It’s silent, and he can glimpse him still sleeping, while a step further in allows him to spot Alfred.
Arthur looks at him squirming and making a rocus. He huffs exasperatedly.
“Hello.” He sighs, as he drags himself to the crib’s edge.
Alfred’s managed to wrap himself up in his blankets, lying on his back, he looks at the verge of a fit.
Upon seeing him approach, the fussing becomes the beginnings of sobbing and Arthur leans down. Outstretching his arms to begin freeing him from the blanket-prison he’s gotten himself trapped in. 
“Oh, I know. I know. You make some compelling arguments, sire.”
Alfred hiccups at that, binky lying abandoned in the array of teddies Francis’ showered him with after his last recovery and he seems like he’s missed it when Arthur places it back into his greedy little hands.
He probably couldn’t find it in his frantic attempt to unwind himself.
Arthur places both hands under his arms, lifting him up with a playful heave and a ho and places the lad on his hip.
He gives him a once over, checking his face and skin for anything out of the ordinary, but he’s just teary eyed and snot faced and really that’s not so bad, is it.
He gets a hitched breath and decides to get moving to warm up a bottle. A babbling of discontentment following him as he begins to walk.
“That right? Surely not, love, surely not. I bet you’re as tired as I am.”
Alfred babbles some more and Arthur nods in agreement, directing his gaze at his feet, to watch his step down the stairs. 
“Yes, yes, I don’t like sleeping hungry either. Here we go, downstairs.”
The last step creaks obnoxiously and Arthur reminds himself for the hundredth time that he should probably take a look at that.
Alfred continues to fuss and Arthur continues to humor him, jumping him up and down a few times, he goes to turn on the radiators in the living room before making the journey to the kitchen.
He turns on the light from the air vent, the yellow bulb flickers a few times before it comes on and he starts his nightly Alfred-routine.
He finds a pot, fills it with water and sets it to heat up.
Francis already prepared a bottle a few hours ago, ready to heat up and all Arthur has to do now is wait, as he places it carefully into the water to warm it.
The steam rises and begins to melt in with the air around it, and Arthur absentmindedly turns on the vent. It whirrs to life in a gradual ascent and Arthur sits Alfred down onto the counter and crouches down to be at face level with him.
Alfred’s stopped crying, but is still hiccupping and fussy, and he stares teary eyed into Arthur’s own, small scars from the pox still left over near his hairline.
“You must be nocturnal.” Arthur says, reaching his hands up to grab Alfred’s smaller ones and drive them around in circles playfully. 
“You sleep more during the day than you do during the night. What’s that about, ay?” 
He says, smiling in an attempt to get Alfred to as well.
“Are you sneaking out to dance in the moonlight while your pa and I are sleeping?”
Alfred continues to suck at his binky, but he does briefly smile and Arthur continues off of that.
“You do?” He makes an exaggeratedly surprised expression, and Alfred laughs through a hiccup.
“I didn’t take you much for a dancer, but I stand corrected. But as your father, I have to say you’re rather young for such nightly escapades, young man.”
Alfred does laugh for real this time and Arthur grins at him. About to say something else when a sizzling from the pot boiling over catches his attention and he springs up to turn the heat off. 
He keeps one hand supporting Alfred, the other mindlessly grabbing the hot part of the pot and eliciting a yelp at the burn. 
Alfred seems to find his distress funny, because he laughs at the way Arthur flaps his hand then fumbles to pull the pot away by the handle.
A little sadist, the lad.
“You little devil.” He says incredulously. “Laughing at your own dad being an idiot, I’m perfectly capable of laughing at myself, thank you.”
Alfred laughs, ironically, at that as well and Arthur figures it can’t be helped.
He’s just happy the boy isn’t crying anymore - God knows, he’s done too much of that.
Arthur picks him back up and grabs a tea towel for the bottle to dry it off and to hold it without dropping it.
He’s going to let it sit for a minute or two, to cool to bearable temperatures, so he can test it and finally let Alfred have it.
He’s being surprisingly cooperative, looking down at the pot, with his hand fiddling with his binky.
“Are you excited to eat something?” Arthur asks, resettling him to hold him with both arms.
Alfred keeps staring at the pot, but does move his hand and slaps it against Arthur’s mouth.
He closes an eye at it, leaning his head back and sideways, but it’s such commonplace it’s barely surprising.
“Alright! Alright, cheers, I’m done talking.”
They wait for the bottle with Arthur jumping Alfred and Alfred eventually abandoning the pot in favor of leaning his head to rest under Arthur’s chin.
He begins to fuss again when Arthur tests the temperature of the milk on his arm and when he brings them out of the kitchen to sit down by the dinner table.
The light from the kitchen mixes with the blue hue of the night and Arthur situates Alfred to lie down in one arm and positions the bottle with the other.
Alfred spits the binky out himself, reaching greedily for his nighttime meal.
Arthur leans back in the chair for the following minutes, moving his head side to side in an attempt to loosen out a knick and closes his eyes tiredly for just a few moments.
He doesn’t know how he’s gotten through the past 6 months.
First it was a lung infection, then the pox, then right back to another lung infection.
The doctors said he’s predisposed to illness, something about being too small at birth, they don’t anticipate he’ll make it much more than a year.
‘It just is that way at times with twins.’
Arthur opens his eyes and looks down at his son tiredly and misty eyed.
He is small, lying there in the crook of his arm with his eyes closed, falling asleep while eating.
All babies are small. They’re supposed to be small, that’s the whole point of growing. And Alfred’s been growing fine, he’s smaller than Matthew is, but he’s only half a year, he has plenty of time to catch up.
Arthur sniffs, turning his head towards his shoulder to wipe his face in it. 
He’ll catch up.
To hell with what the doctors say, he’ll catch up and he’ll make it past a year. Of course he will. 
A child doesn’t go out on nightly moonlight-raves at 6 months old, if they aren’t going to make it past one year.
Alfred will make it, and he’ll get to grow up and go to actual raves and Arthur’s going to support the hell out of it, because if Alfred wants to, then that’s reason enough to support it.
Alfred stops drinking with the tiniest bit left over and spits it out and Arthur sets it on the table quietly.
Alfred’s eyes are closed, and he’s breathing audibly, clearly half-asleep.
“Alrighty-o, lad.” He says, sniffing and wiping at his nose briefly to situate Alfred upwards. “Sorry to interrupt you, but you’re going to regret falling asleep without trying to throw up on me first, so let’s get that over with, shall we?”
Alfred stares at him sleepily in response and Arthur brings them back to the kitchen to get a small towel to put over his shoulder.
He sets the bottle to soak for the night and pats Alfred’s back.
He does burp a few times, but to Arthur’s relief, there is no reflux along with it.
He just lies there, and Arthur stands with him until he falls asleep, falling heavy and limp against his shoulder and that’s that for tonight then.
He turns the vent and the light off and stands for a moment to adjust to the dark.
He skips the creaky step on the stairs as he goes up and returns as quietly as he can to the nursery to set Alfred down.
The lad fusses briefly as he’s laid down, but settles just as quickly and Arthur watches him with the light from the nightlight for a time. Perhaps too long.
They should’ve waited with giving them their own room, it would’ve been easier to hear them from their own and Arthur wouldn’t have to feel so on edge he barely even sleeps anymore.
He runs his fingers softly across Alfred’s cheek. Stroking across the babyfuss and the drool and the stray streaks of milk that he wipes away, unbothered.
He begins to hum, ever so quietly.
“Close your eyes,” He mutters, voice terrible and definitely not made for singing. “Have no fear.”
He tries to think about the future where Alfred is bigger. Where he’s walking and running and biking, where he’s using the swingset right alongside Matthew out in their backyard, and tumbling and getting scrapes and bruises that won’t have the looming fear of being fatal.
“The monster’s gone, he’s on the run, and your daddy’s here.”
He begins to tear up, stroking Alfred’s hair back, he pulls the blanket over him to tug him in properly.
“Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful,”
Alfred stirs and Arthur retracts his hands. “Beautiful boy.” 
He hums the remaining tunes, letting them trail off to hear both boys breathing into the early morning.
He doesn’t bother drying his eyes this time, he doesn’t even know if he wants to go back to bed. He’s tired, exhausted, but he can’t stop worrying.
He wants to stop, but he can’t.
He crosses the room to check Matthew, finding him equally as asleep as Alfred, although instead of being wrapped in his blanket, he’s kicked it off entirely.
Arthur replaces it over him and runs his hand across his hair the same way, before standing back and rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes and deciding he’s really going to be no help if he doesn’t sleep at all.
He casts a final look down at Matthew, lingering by both boys, before fighting himself back out into the hallway and creeping himself back into bed.
It dips softly and he falls onto the pillow with a sigh. He doesn’t bother taking the shirt off again and his side of the bed isn’t warm anymore either, so it’s just as well.
Francis moves beside him as he’s settled in, turning to face him and scooting closer to envelope him with the duvet.
It crinkles and warms him, Francis’ arm snakes over and around and he’s pressing a lazy, prickly kiss to his mouth that he doesn’t have the energy to return at all.
“I'll take the next one.” Francis whispers.
“You have not slept in days.”
“Nonsense.” Arthur mutters.
Francis half-heartedly slaps his back. 
“It’s like I’m taking care of three children, instead of 2.”
Arthur scoffs. “O, ye of little faith.”
Francis presses in for another kiss and Arthur returns it this time, albeit barely.
They settle down; At the verge of sleep.
The monitor goes off, and Francis groans. 
Arthur laughs.
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maxpaulll · 4 months
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David is little spoon whether he likes it or not (he moved in his sleep and Angel was determined to stay attached)
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beesinabiscuit · 1 year
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Ice Ice Baby 
Chapter 2: Lily Has A Burger And Watches Baz Luhrmann's Best Movie (and also James is there)
Lily let out a string of swears that would make the executives at HBO proud. Her greatest nightmare was coming true. James found out that she was hopelessly in love with him and was calling to tell her that he was embarrassed and horrified that his longtime friend and teammate had lied to him all these years. He was going to say that their friendship was over and that he couldn’t continue to work with her and that he didn’t want to ever see her again and-
“Lily, I strongly doubt that’s what James is calling to say,” said Remus, who had apparently gained the ability to read minds all of a sudden. Or she had just said all that out loud. She had probably just said that all out loud.
“How do you knowww,” Lily whined, drawing out the last word until Sirius cut her off.
“Because you’re his favorite thing in the whole world, now hush up and answer the call.” And then he hung up. Which seemed rude, until Lily saw something far ruder:  Her thumb slowly drifting towards the button to answer the call. This was it. It was all ending. A sixteen year friendship, over. The world was crumbling around her. Was this the rapture? It was probably the rapture. The heavens were opening and the angels were descending down upon the earth to wage their war against hell or whatever it was that happened in season 5 of Supernatural, and it all began with accepting James’ call. Which she was currently doing. 
Her thumb pressed the green “answer call” icon. 
The trumpets of the lord began to sound, signaling the end.
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Halloween prompts year 2 day 15
Hood remained silent, even as he clenched the gun tightly in his hand. He hadn't even seen a hint of green portals or blond elfs but 200 witnesses couldn't all be wrong.
All of them had stated that a white haired meta with a gas mask was working with a blond elf with a leaf mask and that they had been the ones kidnapping the kids and teens of Gotham.
Jason had heard stories of fairies snatching kids and infants, sometimes swapping them out with a sickly one of thier own. But there were no trades that Jason knew of. Only missing kids.
Hell, all of the biggest child gangs around Crime Alley and the Narrows were gone.
As in gone gone. Not a single member was left nor any trace of where they could have been taken to. As much as he hated to admit it, he might need to ask for help from the Justice League Dark...
---
Link stared down at the kids from his rooftop perch.
They looked...cleaner. Happier. They had gained a healthy amount of weight, no longer stick thin and weak looking. They had season appropriate clothing without holes and others hidden away in chests and armours for the coming seasons far off from now.
His spirit friend, Phantom, had panicked a bit after he realized what they were doing was trafficking, but calmed down once he pointed out that these kids would have a much better life in Hyrule than they would have had in the rotting trashpit that was Gotham.
If they would have lived much longer at all
Still, thier presence here was mutually beneficial. Hyrule had lost over 80% of its population in the Great Calamity and they were no where close to regaining the population they once had. All of thier forts, training areas, ect were specifically targeted and destroyed in the attacks and gardians and monsters were left in the ruins to ensure they could not rebuild what was lost
Which led to the bigger issues at hand. All the empty occupations.
The castle, and thus castle town, were ground zero for the disaster that wiped out the Hylian peoples. With it many businesses and trades were lost. Hyrule had few soldiers and those they did have desperately needed armor, weapons and training.
That wasn't all. Hudson construction had attempted to repair Castle town and eventually the castle, but they were wood workers, not stone masons. They knew little of the craft that was needed.
There were lessons and information in the castle archives covering most of the jobs and trades, as well as how to proform them, but the princess didn't see it as a priority. They didn't have the people necessary to teach these crafts and the castle and town surrounding wasn't really a priority anyway. Not with all the people who still needed help around the kingdom.
Phantom helped a lot too. Other than helping them build towns for the kids (the child gangs actually really liked having a town all to themselves) he did a lot of other random jobs around the kingdom, much like Link himself.
Unfortunately, his next trip to Gotham lead to a run in with the "Red Hood" and the phrase, "Was that a fucking fruit grenade?!" Link did not know what the word "Fucking" meant but the Hood man would not tell him. He is learning a lot of new words from this guy, words that Phantom appearently didn't like cause he loudly scolded Red Hood like a naughty child the first time they met. It was hilarious to see this tiny 15 year old tell off a giant tank of a man.
Link couldn't see the mans expression due to the odd red helm the man wore, but he could tell he was cowed, even if just a bit. Then he began speaking to someone who wasn't there while pressing his finger to the side of his helm where his ear should be. Is Red Hood ill? Does he have a mind sickness like the ones Phantom told him of when describing his parents? Or is this something Link doesn't yet understand...either way he doesn't think he's getting more children for Hyrules future in this trip...or anytime soon if those ominous masked people landing on the rooftops around them had any say in the matter.
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raikkonens · 1 year
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@julykings (x) / "to be alone with you" by sufjan stevens / @straight-like-a-wet-noodle (x)(x) / call me by your name screenplay by james ivory / national anthem: america's queer rodeo by luke gilford / the power of the dog screenplay by jane campion / "storm riders" by glenn dean / "the lost pardner" by badger clark / “tennessee waltz” / @straight-like-a-wet-noodle (x) / maurice by e.m. forster / gay cowboy love poem by @julykings / "cowboy kisses" by @blue-nebraska (x)
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klanced · 4 months
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people like to joke that batman is a furry but my hottest batman take is that batman is actually a metaphor for gender expression and drag (he is performing hyper masculinity)
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snekdood · 4 months
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so uh
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for 1. most people are gonna take advantage of black friday and wont see your specific niche tumblr post, I hate to say it
2. the us isnt running out of money for war any time soon, so...
3. this is just antisemitism???????? all we need is some (((echoes))) around the us and israel and then I'd have no reason to suspect otherwise from op...............
#why in tf do you think they care that much about getting your money rn and not before in any other war?#does it. mayhaps. have something to do w jewish people being involved now?#our tax dollars go to the govt regardless and has been for years and we already have an obscene amount of funding for military shit#preeetty sure they're not concerned about getting a couple hundred tumblr users money...#and also pretty sure one could only believe that if they're paranoid about jewish ppl.................#hard not to put two and two together and figure out op is prolly antisemitic and hopefully they just dont realize it#i say hopefully they dont realize it bc thats better than someone who knows and is pretending to be a leftist still.#if anything this pause happened bc its thanksgiving and biden doesnt wanna think about it over the holidays. thats p much it.#thats the only amount of conspiracy theory im willing to believe in this situation lmao.#but that ^ still assumes that biden has some sort of control over this that he really doesnt#and i dont think netanyahu cares that much about thanksgiving tbr...#it sounds more like to me that op is seeing this from a very american centric pov and assumes everyone celebrates thanksgiving#or cares enough about it to remember the dates.... i dont think this is as planned as op is making it out to be and any insinuation#that it IS planned sounds like conspiracy theory talk to me personally. i dont think biden is hittin netanyahu up and going#'hey thursday is thanksgiving and would be the perfect time to pause so we can (((get peoples money))) out of them#asiftheUSdoesnthaveplentyalready' like i just really dont think that convo is happening lmao.
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