percy’s new yorker road rage™️ in a fucking parking lot is cracking me up
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was chatting with my brother about gravity falls (again) and i said something like “man, can you believe stan waited and worked for 30 years just for the chance to try and bring his brother back?” to which my brother responded, “yeah, it’s nuts when you think about it. i wonder if stan got trapped in the multiverse instead, if ford would do the same.” HELLO???
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Roy is far too accustomed to dealing exclusively with adults, not squishy faced kids who look like they should be losing baby teeth and learning long division, not signing military contracts and discussing yearly salaries and job benefits.
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the thing about Twelve/Clara is that the chemistry is so intense. sometimes it's sweet and tender and "daft old man" and "when do i not see you?" but most of the time it's painful and passionate and "i am owed" and "do you think that i care for you so little that betraying me would make a difference?" and heaven sent/hell bent suicide/destruction to save each other.
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rosekiller always hits the most when evan is a skeletal, wraithlike wisp of a victorian child with terrifying blue bug-eyes and absolutely no movement of any of his facial muscles; no one has ever seen eat or drink or even speak; he’s never been seen within five feet of anyone who’s not his equally-as-off-putting twin sister; he always smells sightly metallic (like blood) but also sterile (like whatever he used to clean aforementioned blood); the most emotion anyone has ever seen this creature display is when his eyes light up slightly at the mention of rubber gloves or a dead body. and then there’s barty, this charismatic-and-absurdly-hot loser who can’t shut up to save his life, following him around like a panting dog, meekly carrying his lover’s pile of disturbing ‘medical’ journals whilst towering over his fragile blond spectre.
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