Breakfast Lunch and Dinner at 230V and 50Hz

Imagine a robot boy's limbs being rusted and filled with dirt that it's hard for him to move his joints as he wants to, and the mechanic (also a boy) after cleaning and lubricating them helps him recalibrate by standing behind him and holding him by the hands and moving his arms like a slow dance

Lex Luthor has no idea how fortunate he is that Superman managed to get that dog back alive.

Where's the medieval fantasy that isn't either "historically-accurate" homophobia or modern progressive acceptance? Like, a peasant couple tells their daughter "Sweetie, it's nice that you and that Alice fancy eachother, but if you marry, you *are* going to help your sister with her children."

So, there's a drink that is called coffee. And the building you go to buy it is called a cafe. To me that's poor worldbuilding.

"Samus Aran, your mission, if you take it, is to land on the beach and deploy this sunblock on the back of a cute babe", she mutters to herself while jumping over pools of acid and shooting at dog-sized bugs.

Handler is captured by their old "hound" now working for the rebels, they're being held in the mech's hands, and the handler, refusing to be captured, yells the pilots old kill command. It almost works, the pilot's mind flushes with the idea of crushing them into paste. Then they take a breath, and say to to the handler "You don't control anybody's life now. Not even your own."