#he's Russian~

[soup-mother]

i just remembered this British backpacking youtuber wanker who went to chechnya (he straight up said it like "chech-nyar") and he was getting a taxi ride and complimenting the car and saying it meant the guy was rich and this Chechen guy was like "you've come here from England and can pay for taxi rides, you are rich. I'm literally a taxi driver" and the guy got so fucking huffy about it because his whole brand was how low cost tourism he was. really helped cement my dislike for cunts who go to a much poorer country, start acting like they're in and savvy with the locals (while gentrifying their eating spots etc) and getting all white guilty about their position as a tourist with money in a strong currency with strong wages. what a cunt.

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

"Why does it make you frustrated that the Captain of the Demeter is consistently not Russian in adaptations?" - hypothetical person

For several reasons:

It takes away a heroic figure who is Eastern European, which significantly contributes to the (arguably incorrect) reading that this book is about an East vs West dichotomy.

Slavic characters so rarely get to be good and heroic figures in English-language media beyond very bit parts.

It takes away the significance of him being mourned by people even when he is buried far from his homeland.

[rainpunk07]

hear me out, danny speaking russian (dc x dp hc)

so i was just watching a video about space, right? allegedly, turns out if you (an american) wanna board the international space station you must speak russian fluently since the only way to get there is by a russian shuttle and pilot (nasa apparently ended their own shuttle program way back when??) (don’t quote me on this)

so picture danny learning russian at a relatively young age for the sole hope of going to space and such, and it coming out every once in a while when he’s mumbling or something like that (it’s basically second nature to him)

so danny ends up at gotham for whatever reason (demon twins, reveal gone wrong, idc, they’re all cool) and he wants to start anew, so he pretends to only speak russian?? ig?? it’d make for some funny/interesting BatFam interactions i suppose

i don’t know where i was going with this but i want to read prompts of danny speaking russian

[denjidenjiji]

obligatory cahara art because he’s the prettiest ever.

when faced with artblock, the draw him!!! It worked quite well

[morganbritton132]

Eddie, in the middle of a live-stream: Hey, Stevie. I was thinking about something you said the other day and I’ve got a question

Steve: …Oh-kay?

Eddie: The other day you said that your parents used to make you go to benefit dinners with the mayor, right? Mayor Kline?

Steve: Um, yeah? I think. They were donors. They campaigned for him.

Eddie: Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.

Eddie: So.

Eddie: Your parents helped fund you being drugged and tortured by Russians.

Steve:

Steve, taking all this in: Huh.

Eddie: Huh, indeed.

[arrimorr]

My ocs, Sir and Ser, aka the eldritch malevolent policemen 😔

[laurapetrie]

That girl will astonish us all. Do not let the fact that she is so quiet fool you: she has powerful passions within her.

Ivan Turgenev, Rudin (1856)

[devotion-disorder]

Curious but would our handsome elves love us even if we turn old and gray? 👉👈

I think most elves, especially those that have a better affinity for magic, would probably perform some sort of ritual to lengthen your lifespan. It won't be pretty, and they'll be heaving and shaking by the end of such an intensive spell that is reserved only for the most desperate of cases -- but they're willing to do it, multiple times if needed. And for those that do not possess the talent to cast such magic, they'd be willing to trade practically anything to commission other elves, even with years off of their own lives.

but that's the case for an individual basis. I suppose if you're the (only) village pet then it will be a collective effort to keep you alive as long as possible -- and if the entire village is mobilized its going to be a very, very long time before the prospects of freedom in death becomes available...and the fact that your life literally depends on them will be something they'll exploit to the fullest.

[leggy-martian]

He has brought shame upon his pedigree. He tried to eat my cake slice right off the table this morning.

[ikarakie]

the first time wayne meets steve is actually far before the events of '86. in fact, it's in winter of '85.

he's on his way back from work when he pops a tire. he's pissed off, it's cold, still dark, and the beginnings of fucking snow are falling around him, and he doesn't have a spare. the nearest payphone is probably three miles walk, and he's just readying himself to make the journey when, miraculously, a pair of headlights turn onto the back road.

the car slows to a stop behind wayne's, and he's struck by how fucking nice it is. a brown bmw 733i, one he thinks he's seen around a couple times. when the driver steps out, he realises that, yes, he has seen this car. because the boy behind the wheel is the harrington boy, and wayne curses every god out there.

he expects some snark. a good attitude and for the kid to make him grovel for help or outright deny any assistance. instead, he approaches with these wide bambi eyes, the absolute picture of concern.

"are you alright, sir?" he asks, perfectly polite. wayne huffs.

"popped a tire, ain't got a spare." he doesn't- doesn't know why he's telling him. really doesn't. but something about the kid makes him falter, makes his steely exterior give way ever so slightly. the boy crouches down to the tire in question, frowning as he inspects it. then nods, grinning. he says nothing to wayne as he heads back to his car, and for moment he thinks the kid's gonna leave him in the dirt. but, instead, he pops the trunk and hauls out a spare, rolls it over to the car.

wayne only watches, fascinated, as he jogs back to retrieve a little set of tools. sits his ass by his tire and starts going at it. he's in a thin, short sleeved tshirt and jeans. he must be fucking freezing- wayne is, and he's got a thick coat, gloves and a hat on.

"what're you doin', boy?" he asks, unable to sound anything but bewildered. the kid blinks at him.

"changing your tire, sir?"

"i ain't got anything to pay you back with." wayne warns, wary. the kid shrugs, continues his task.

"that's okay, i wasn't going to ask you to." he pulls the popped tire off and lays it by his side. "it's just a good thing we have the same size, huh?" he grins, a little shy. wayne has never felt so thrown off in his life.

was this really james and cynthia harrington's boy? would someone of those people's blood really sit in the cold to change a strangers tire? expecting nothing in return? "where's your layers, kid? it's cold as ass out here, you'll catch a chill."

"oh, i gave it to my friend." seriously? seriously? "i'm alright sir, not to worry." he says this despite his red cheeks and reddening knuckles.

he finishes fitting the tire a second or two later, and once he's inspected it, gives wayne an endearingly dorky thumbs up. it reminds him of eddie in all the best ways. "all done, sir!" he collects up all his tools and threads an arm through the hole of the tire, balancing it on his shoulder. "i'll take this for you, i have to drive by the junkyard anyways." he doesn't. wayne knows the harrington's live in loch nora, and that's the opposite goddamn direction.

"you really a harrington?" he asks, not missing the confusion and maybe even slight disappointment he's met with. "just- no offence, son, but i always thought they were nothin' but bad." he deflates even more, if possible. "how did they raise such a kind boy?"

it's such a sudden change, how quickly he's smiling, bright enough to light the damn road if he wanted. it's all bashful and excited, it makes wayne wonder if he's never heard a good word about himself in his life, which seems insane.

"i still got a bit of an asshole gene," he jokes, a little dry, "but i'm trying to be better, you know?" he motions to the tire. "if you can help, why shouldn't you?"

wayne wants to squeeze him, but refrains. thanks him a couple times over and forces the boy to take his hat before he goes, (despite his complaints). harrington bids him farewell and a safe drive home, and he's driving off before either realise they never learnt each other's names.

(wayne finds his out later, though, when eddie meets him at the door, worried that he's late. only after he's walked his nephew through the story three times and sworn up and down, yes, it was true, and yes, it was definitely harrington. steve harrington.

when they meet again after '86, in eddie's hospital room, that boy from all that time ago holding his nephew's hand, he does give him that hug. thanks him, for both this time and the last.

steve wears the hat in winter of '86. it makes wayne smile.)

[thetorturedlovergirl]

Even they were weirded tf out by The Master dancing to Rasputin 😭😭

[ch3ri-ch3ri-lady]

raskolnikov from crime and punishment considering killing himself but then seeing some girl try to kill herself by jumping off a bridge but she survives. and then he’s like omfg that’s so awkward and embarrassing nevermind

[1-8oo-wtfbro]

give me more fics where Eddie runs into Steve and Robin, running around after being drugged (and tortured) by the Russians at Starcourt. Steve, dopy and sweet and acting like dumbest puppy- and did i mention his face was beat in? Robin, flailing all over steve and giggling with him as they sway, more intertwined than humanly possible, eyes unfocused. and Eddie, faking calm as he tries to herd them to a bathroom and planning to kill whoever drugged his these loopy sailors that he’s been annoying all summer.

[b1dl0]

[cosmicwhoreo]

Captain Walrus Cookie

AYE! Make way for the guard dog of Choco Mud Town, Captain Walrus Cookie! He kept the peace in the town for 2 decades, chasing off dangerous characters for the often neglected edge of the republic with his motley crew for no more than a few free drinks at the pub. Even so, he rarely ever got physically violent with troublemakers. More relied on careful wording and dominating size to intimidate those causing problems. Always believing words carry more weight than a punch.

[my-hyperfixations]

Me after seeing Dazai and Chuuya find Fyodor’s dummy: