Reblong to give someone an ice cream sanditch.
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Reblong to give someone an ice cream sanditch.

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donald trump will die on july 20th 2025 at 1pm pacific standard time
like to charge reblog to cast
Could you maybe reblog this post if you think respecting trans peoples' names and identities is a basic right and not a political opinion?
No pressure. Just seeking some validation of my sentiment. Due to some. people
everybody go home the best tag on this post just dropped
Furuya Rei's friends and the (bad) examples they're still leading from beyond the grave
I was debating a different ending and ended up going with this one, but here's the other one too for fun:
Totally not chuckling over this

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Atla nation, come get y'all's juice
I received this fantastic fancomic from c_art as my gift for the FTH Auction 2024. It’s an adaptation of/inspired by chapter 5 of what is quite possibly the funniest Detective Conan fic in existence, How to Be a Double Agent 101, by @scritch-scratches.
ppl who are like “there’s no way sokka’s art skills would improve, he’s ontologically bad at art” ummmm. dude. you realize that this is the mary sue of hobbies, right? this guy could out-westley westley. he would develop an immunity to iocane powder in less than a week because he’s just that prodigious. he became a kyoshi warrior who could best their leader in a matter of hours, and this was the first time he had ever trained in his life with an actual teacher and opponent. he mastered the sword in one day, if we’re to take piandao’s word for it (and considering his name is literally sword, he is clearly an expert). sokka looked at the rough schematics for hot air balloons after the eminent inventor in the world had spent who knows how long not able to get his idea to actually work like “uhhh…. this may sound obvious, but have you tried a lid???” he has borderline supernatural aim with a boomerang. he was dropped into a haiku battle knowing nothing about the form, and not only beat the leader of ba sing se’s premier haiku club, but also chose, completely unnecessarily, to make each verse rhyme. if he actually sat down and practiced drawing, maybe with some instruction from a trained artist, or easier beginner’s materials than ink and a brush (you’ve all seen my art, and I still cannot paint with ink and a brush), I think sokka would easily be able to produce a work on par with (if not superior to) the mona lisa by the following morning.
the temptation of writing an Outsider POV fic on mid twenties private detective Shinichi and his funky teenage interns that are all horribly morbid
tags are too amazing to not include @loosingmoreletters
#being Conan has taught shinichi that sometimes you gotta break some laws to solve crimes#which is why he isn’t a cop. he’s fully aware he’s breaking the law and has some integrity about it#also I think it would be funny if shinichi was being consulted about a case#while sitting in a cell bc he broke into the murderer’s home#I think adult shinichi has the potential to be fucking weird#in ways he wouldn’t have been if he hadn’t spent ages as a primary school kid
I love his integrity, (cops should be held to a HIGHER STANDARD) and also the image of some cop asking for advice on a case through prison bars!

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rewatching detective conan made me realize just how little chill Kudo Shinichi had—who throws an entire globe at the culprit to get him off the wheelchair + use that said globe as a soccer ball to apprehend him?
the start of our unhinged deranged detective, y'all
Crackfic Idea:
30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.
Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.
ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!
AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?
ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?
AANG: Um... this is the-
SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!
KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.
ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.
AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!
ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...
AANG: Well, I-
SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!
Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.
ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?
IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.
ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...
IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.
ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.
IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.
The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.
SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.
ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.
SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.
As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.
But there is a shrine in every witcher keep, tucked away in the back of a herb garden or half-hidden in a niche .... A small humanoid figure .... Grieving, perhaps, or fearful, or wounded, or just so weary that it cannot go on.
Inspired directly by "The Only God Of Witchers" by @inexplicifics
(One of the most powerfully touching short pieces I've ever read)
this post will be seen by someone who is so cool
Hence the invention of the Porch

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I want them to interact🥺
this image