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#extradirty
almost home
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
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@kitsune-mage-hunter
— CP2077 Character Ship Card PNG/PSD ↳ OTP and OT3 versions
A relationship chart card for your OTP and OT3 Cyberpunk needs!
Available in a flat, clean .png version for non-Photoshop users, and as customizable .psd file. Includes an example for inspiration and a read me .txt with instructions and tips.
Thank you @pinkydude as always for the extremely helpful extracts. ❤
[ DOWNLOAD HERE ]
Let me explain the context of this scene for a moment. Loki has been told his whole life that he was an Odinson. That he was an equal to Thor and that he has just as much birthright to the throne as his older brother. Now imagine that after a millennia of believing this about yourself and constructing an entire life based on this assumption, you suddenly find out that you’re a monster.
As the God of Mischief, you played a harmless prank on your brother during his coronation to prevent him from becoming King a little while longer. All you wanted was to stay on equal footing as princes of Asgard rather than kneeling before your perfect brother and future King of Asgard. You didn’t mean for Thor to go to Jotunheim and attack the Frost Giants but he never heeded your advice. You are just his younger brother that everyone mocks and ridicules.
Suddenly, you are fighting for your life in a frozen wasteland and a Frost Giant touches you, meaning to cause frostbite and kill you. But you don’t get an injury from his freezing skin, you don’t feel anything at all. Instead, you look down and your own skin starts to resemble the monsters that you and your friends are trying to fend off. You’re completely confused by the situation but you don’t have time to think.
The Allfather arrives and saves your group from certain death but immediately upon returning home, your brother and father begin to argue. You stand there quietly, finally having a moment to reflect on what just happened. Then you realize it. You’re a Jotun.
Your older brother that you admire and love more dearly than anyone else is saying he wants all the Jotuns to fear him just as they fear their father. You become terrified that your own brother will kill you if he found out what you truly are. You look up at the at the man you called your father to watch his reaction as Thor shouts the words that just broke your heart.
The Allfather doesn’t even notice that you’re falling apart inside yet the legends say he can see everything that transpires around him. He has lied to you about everything and yet won’t even look you in the eyes. Should you fear him at this moment? What was his reason for hiding the truth from you? What will all of Asgard say when they find out? Will you be banished or killed?
A million thoughts are running through your head like a tide of rushing water, destroying all the memories you’ve once cherished and drowning you in fear.
If you want to write a dumb little story with a dumb little plot and ridiculously silly characters. No one's stopping you. Genuinely, no one should be allowed to stop you. Write that dumb story with your whole heart and don't hold back.
Drawing hands from imagination by Proko
People worrying if their fic is too self indulgent like....... that is the point of fanfiction. You are supposed to indulge . Every fic is self indulgent
writing prompts to get to know your characters better
• individual characters
write a description of them from the pov of their best friend.
write a description of them from the pov of a person who absolutely hates them.
write their earliest or favourite memory.
write their death scene even if you are not planning on killing them.
if your character had a yt channel, write the script of their most watched video.
• one on one friendships
first meeting is overdone. write their first fight instead.
write a series of text conversations between the two.
one character has been detained / arrested, and the other one is trying to get them out.
how would they behave at an elementary school sleepover?
they've been working on a joint bucket list since they became close. write the bucket list.
• friend groups
a group picture goes horribly wrong. write the scene.
find some 'most likely to' questions. use them within the group.
one of them goes out of town, and the rest of the group has to watch their house/plants/pets/kid while they're away.
one friend works at a restaurant. the other friends decide to eat there. describe how they get the friend fired in one night.
• romantic relationships
write their breakup scene. doesn't matter if they break up in the book or not.
someone kills one of them. describe the other one's reaction.
write the stupidest argument they've ever had.
they return to the place where they first met/kissed. somehow, the place has been changed, and not for the better.
write a proposal scene.
Attention Writers!!!
So many times I see "just write! Doesn't matter if it's bad! You can always revise!!"
And I get that. It's something that a lot of people struggle with; being perfect on the first go. It's true that you shouldn't stress yourself out with something being messy. First drafts are BY NATURE messy.
But NEVER
I repeat
NEVER
Force yourself to write when you can't
Putting impossible deadlines or goals on yourself will NOT HELP
Writing should be fun! If it's not fun, if it's not freeing, if it's stressful and taxing and doesn't feel worth it
Stop
And let that be okay.
You don't have to suffer for good art.
Allow yourself to take a break. Take care of yourself.
But that doesn't mean you can't work on it.
Do background research. Outline. Take a personality quiz for your characters. Try to draw your characters. Try to draw scenes. Focus on character building. Write side projects. Create mood boards. Do whatever you want.
Thinking about it counts as working on it!!!
The writing process is vast and non-linear. Don't ever let anyone tell you that you HAVE to write every single day.
You don't HAVE to.
It's true, you can always revise things you don't like.
But it's also true that the writing process is more than just writing
While the first piece of advice always comes from the best of intentions, I've seen so many writers sink into bouts of depression, anxiety, terror, and low self worth because they missed their goal, they haven't written, they've run out of steam, they lack motivation.
And it saddens me every time.
Writers, take care of yourself.
Remember thinking about it counts as working on it
Approach your craft with love
Have fun writing
~Kaylin
Fifteenth Day of Gift-Giving
Fifteen Fluffy Moments
each quietly doing household chores, meeting each other every now and then in a room, giving each other a smile or kiss while passing by
going on a walk together, walking their usual route, hand in hand, talking about work, friends and whatever they have on their mind
reading together on the couch, one lays their head on the other's lap, getting their soft hair played with
winning at game night, the tension during the game and the laughter when they realize one won by a small margin
napping together, either in bed or on the couch, just deciding that now is the perfect moment for a nap, enjoying each other's closeness
sharing their clothes, one wearing the other's sweater, the other one only going out with the other's scarf wrapped around their neck, smelling so lovely
reading the newspaper for the person who's making breakfast, telling them about the latest news, until they decide it's too sad for an early morning and switch to the quiz page
working on their hobbies next to each other, each doing their own thing, showing off what they've done from time to time, praising each other on what they've accomplished
fighting over the blanket, pressing their cold feet against the other's calf, cursing and play-fighting until they settle back down, holding each other close
doing each other's hair the way they like it the most, not letting the other one sneak a peek at the mirror
sitting in the car and singing a song together, both trying to outshine the other
bringing each other flowers without having a special occasion, just picking up a small bouquet from a vendor on the streets and bringing them home
cooking together, bumping into each other while going from the fridge to the stove, each knowing their parts, letting the other taste the food before deciding that it's perfect
showering together, washing each other's hair and trying to keep close to get some of the warm water
kissing each other goodbye, in the morning before work, when one goes on a short trip, when one goes out for the night with some friends
24 Days of Gift-Giving
yandere! rockstar x manager! reader 🎼
“on another note, people have noticed your recent music has been quite romantic,” the host states, keen eyes pinned to her guest with an easy smile. “so who’s the lucky person, feroze? your fans are dying to know.”
with soft strands of crimson hair that fall over his flawless brown skin, sharp, stygian eyes lined with kohl, and the sleeves of his black shirt rolled back to reveal prominent muscles — feroze looks gorgeous. he has to, for his first interview of the new year.
“oh, i’m sure they are.” he drawls, crosses one leg over the other. “but that’s a secret i won’t ever tell, i’m not fond of sharing.” the audience, mainly consisting of teenagers who have his posters up on their walls, swoon, and the host laughs politely. “besides, they know who they are, and that’s enough for me.”
but feroze is stupid, you think, if he believes he can evade the host’s intrusive questions. this is her show, and despite his status as a celebrity rockstar — he’s here as her guest.
“not ready to go public just yet?” she asks, her words met with a shrug from the man seated across from her, but the woman persistently presses on, “alright, no names, but can you at least tell us more about this secret sweetheart of yours?”
“they’re the love of my life.” he states simply, expression apathetic. feroze rhythmically drums his fingers on his legs, “i could write a million songs in their name, and none would be able to properly capture the way i feel when i’m around them.”
“it’s something bigger than words can convey.” feroze’s words fall from his lips like a confession. and you notice that every time he talks, his tongue piercing glints under the harsh studio lighting. “in my language, we call it ishq.”
the host is about to say something, presumably ask the musician what he means, but he doesn’t give her a chance to, and you wince. he’ll get backlash for speaking over her, despite all the times you’ve reprimanded him for his impatience, especially in the predatory eyes of the media.
because popularity isn’t enough. no matter how many of his concerts sell out within seconds, or how many weeks his music tops worldwide charts — no limelight hides his brown skin, or his desi heritage. there are always those who lurk, waiting for him to mess up, and ready to tear him apart when he does.
“it’s a connection, a level of adoration that is beyond rationality,” he clarifies, “ishq can be beyond beautiful, or it can be utterly destructive. but either way, it leaves you an absolute mess.” feroze chuckles, the sound low and wry. but it is nothing compared to the approving applause from the audience, who watch the lovestruck star in awe.
“wow, that’s just lovely!” the host gushes, and, you note from your place in the audience of onlookers, glows with the pride of getting feroze to talk for so long, speak more than some simple words.
it’s undeniable that he’s a star, he belongs on his stage, commands attention when he sings with his husky voice and lays his heart bare in the lyrics. but when it comes to interviews or fan meets, it’s almost impossible to get a word out of him.
it’s mildly amusing to watch, the way everybody will try so hard to pry a few short sentences from his lips, when all he ever does around you, much to your vexation, is speak.
“i’ve built a name for myself, from the ground up, for over twenty three years,” his black eyes scan the applauding audience, and find yours, lingering there when he speaks. “but if they asked me to — i’d leave it all behind. the fame, this life.” he says, “the music would stay, songs of adoration and sweet nothings, but only for them and nobody else.”
“surely you don’t mean that?” the host asks the man seated across from her, “your fans would be absolutely devastated, to say the very least.” she winks at the audience, who agree wholeheartedly with her words. “and what would music even look like without the feroze khan?”
“if you want me to be honest with you, i simply don’t care.” he shrugs nonchalantly, and all of a sudden, the studio which was previously buzzing with excitement, falls entirely silent. “i don’t care if music falls apart, or if the world hates me for it.”
the host’s grin falters, and your heart skips a beat. he tilts his head to the side. “all of this?” he makes a vague gesture at the studio, the bright lights and dozens of eyes trained on him at this very moment. “it means nothing to me, next to them.”
“i guess you really love them, don’t you?” the host attempts to lighten the mood, but her smile strains the corners of her lips, and her eyes anxiously dart to the camera, ready to wrap up this conversation and move on.
“love is too simple of a word,” feroze muses, twirling one of his many rings between his lithe fingers, looping it around and over them with charming ease. “this is something messy and rough around the edges, but it’s something i want to experience forever, all the same.”
again, his eyes meet yours in the crowd, a slow smile spreading on his lips. meri jaan. he mouths, and you flush, heat creeping up to your cheeks out of embarrassment or irritation, you don’t know. but the words linger in your mind all the same, my love.
but as soon as feroze’s smile blossoms, it withers, and his expression smooths over, back to a bored gaze and his relaxed demeanour. you wearily run a hand over your face, irritation seeping under your skin at the rockstar’s insistence in actively ruining his career.
there’s tension in the studio, a palpable uneasiness draped over the silent audience — but if feroze notices, he doesn’t care enough to show it. the musician is the epitome of ease: arms lazily draped over the armchair he casually lounges in, legs crossed comfortably as he watches the host expectantly, ready for her next question, but not quite interested.
and you decide you’ve seen enough. so with your jaw set, and hands curled into hard fists, you turn on your heels and leave the studio without so much as a backwards glance.
you don’t need to look at him to know that feroze watches you walk out. but what you don’t know is that after you leave, he refuses to say a single word for the remainder of the interview.
by the time you and feroze get back to his place, your anger has twisted itself into a shimmering rage, and you make sure that he knows it too.
“you’re going to ruin your life and destroy your career!” you exclaim, hating the way he regards you with such nonchalance, even now. “i have tried, time and time again, to be patient with you — but telling your fans on live television that you don’t care about any of them??”
“not my fault if they can’t handle the truth” he shrugs, “let them all rot, they’re nothing to me. the only person i need is you.”
“feroze motherfucking khan.” you curse, “if someone hears you say that — you’re over!!” you seethe, grit your teeth and bite your tongue before you can say anything you’ll regret.
coming back from this interview was going to be difficult, but people had come back from worse, right? besides, you could always resort to bribery and censorship, if push comes to shove. but hopefully, if you can do your job right, it shouldn’t.
“why do you insist on making my job so difficult?” you mutter, lean against the wall and close your eyes in resignation, admitting defeat to the stubborn celebrity.
it’s the low sound of feroze’s voice that brings you back to the present.
“i’m making your job difficult, am i?” feroze laughs, the sound dripping with disbelief, you open your eyes, find that his darken. “you make mine impossible.” he narrows his black eyes, “when i see you at my concerts, i forget the lyrics to songs i’ve sang a million times, my hands start shaking, and i can barely hear the music over the sound of my heart.”
you shake your head, don’t trust yourself not to say something stupid, but something twists in your chest.
“even now,” with every word, he takes a step closer to you, until you’re pressed against the wall and he’s looming over you, hands reaching out for yours. “i can barely think straight. here,” he guides your palms against his chest, fingers gentle, even when he feels like being anything but. “can you feel it, what you do to me?”
“you drive me absolutely insane, with your very existence. every song of mine is about you, and whenever i perform knowing you’re watching me, i can barely breathe.” you look up at the musician, your anger giving way to something slightly softer, as you feel the erratic rhythm of his beating heart under your hands. “i love you.”
“don’t.” you manage, “don’t throw away your entire life for me. you’ve got the world at your fingertips, everybody either wants you, or wants to be you.” and it’s true, both of you know it. “you’re a superstar, feroze. music hasn’t seen something like you since cobain, don’t throw it all away for me — i’m not worth what you have.”
“not worth it?” feroze echoes, shakes his head as he wraps his fingers around your wrists, “then tell me why i go to sleep and wake up with my mind and body thinking about you. tell me why i want to devour you, one kiss at a time, and memorise the dips and curves of your body underneath mine.”
his voice is barely above a whisper as he lays his desires bare before you. “go on, use your words and tell me.”
but you have no answer for him, couldn’t think of one even if you tried, because the only thing on your mind is how close he is, how his lips ghost the shell of your ear and graze your own with every word.
“that’s what i thought,” feroze says, he considers something for a moment before continuing, “and forget my being a superstar, that’s not what i want, and it never has been since i met you.”
the limited space between you is heavy with desire and promises of debauchery, and you want nothing more than to let yourself sink into it. so, even when you know this is unprofessional, know you could lose your job for this — you can’t help yourself.
your anger is washed away by something warmer, something that leaves you wanting for more. “then what do you want, feroze?”
“i thought you’d never ask, meri jaan.” feroze breathes against your jaw, curls a hand around your throat.
“how about you let me show you exactly what i want,” his other hand holds your wrists, bound by his fingers, over your head. the man pushes his knees between your thighs, and finally smiles. “be mine, just for tonight — say yes, and i’ll show you what ishq means.”
something inside him comes undone when you press your lips against his, burning with want.
he knows. he knows he’s a handful, your rockstar always saying the wrong thing and giving you headaches, leaving you with yet another mess to deal with.
throughout the night, he realises that even his best music has nothing on the mellifluous sounds of you whimpering his name, all breathless. your anger dissipated and replaced by raw need.
he swears he’ll make it up to you. he’ll treat you so well, that you’ll never want to leave. besides, it’s not like you could, even if you tried — he wouldn’t let you. what’s a rockstar without his manager?
Unintentionally Intimate
☆ Xiao | Alatus/Gender Neutral Reader
☆ Warnings: None
☆ Summary: Things you did during your friendship with the Yaksha that just left him unfairly flustered.
(Inspired by some things I do that I think would fluster genshin men.)
☆ "Xiao," You called, holding a platter of experimental almond tofu in your hands, "Are you there?"
The Yaksha in question appeared only after a few seconds, though not in one piece as he normally would. He was covered in blood. And he was getting it all on your floors. You had just finished mopping...
He, unaware or unbothered by this fact, turned to you with a frown. "[Name], I thought I told you only to call my name when you're in danger. You're clearly not."
You only shrugged and gestured to the food in your hands. "I thought you'd appreciate some. Well, to taste test, at least. I'm experimenting with the recipe and it's your favorite, no?"
It was, obviously. Being best friends with Xiao left you privy to such details. He would never reject almond tofu. Well, never from you.
Xiao always had a certain fondness for you that you took full advantage of. Not maliciously, of course, but simply by forcing him to take better care of himself. It may have seemed useless to others, but you could see he was happier now, even if just by a little.
"...Thank you." Xiao looked away and you preened at the reaction. So cute.
"Here." You took a spoonful of tofu and held it up to his mouth.
At the prompting he immediately turned to you and frowned, his pale skin dusting a light pink. "What are you doing? I can feed myself, [Name]. Don't be ridiculous."
"You're not staining my wooden utensils with blood, Xiao."
"Ah."
He cleared his throat and hesitantly opened his mouth allowing you to feed him the dessert. Upon taking the spoon away, he immediately retracted and grimaced, a hand quickly coming up to cover his mouth.
"What's wrong? Does it taste bad?"
"It's so... sweet." The way he said it made you snort. He said it as if it were a crime.. Which... Maybe to him it might have been.
"Well," You chuckled, scooping up a bit of tofu. "It can't be that bad."
It was. It was tooth achingly sweet.
"Oh." You mirrored his previous reaction. "It is."
"You..." Xiao started, his eyes flickering to you then the spoon in your hand. "Whatever. I'm leaving."
He turned away from you and disappeared in a puff of smoke leaving confusion in his wake.
Odd.
He also left blood. Lots of it.
You groaned and went for the mop.
▪︎✧-✧-✧▪︎
☆ You walked alongside Xiao around Liyue Harbour with a slight smile in your face. Xiao, on the other hand, looked just as stoic as he usually did.
"I'm feeling a bit hungry. How about we go to Wanmin Restaurant?" You hummed, turning to him with a smile.
"I don't need to eat, you know this. And I don't like human food." Xiao made a disgusted face, looking deeply offended that you even asked.
"Well I do. And I want food." You smiled at him and began walking away.
He didn't follow you.
"Xiao."
"I don't like human food."
Exasperated, you stalked up to him and hooked your arm around his. "I know you don't. But I do and we're getting food."
Xiao tensed against you and hastily attempted to pull his arm away. He failed, obviously, as you dug your fingers into his arm and smiled innocently at him. The action only made him struggle even more as you hugged the limb to your chest before he disappeared in a puff of smoke.
Coward.
You rolled your eyes and ordered yourself a serving of Jade Parcels. You ignored the pair of eyes on you and ate your meal slowly, obnoxiously making a show of enjoying it.
"Oh wow, these are amazing. Too bad I'm eating alone because someone decided to abandon me. Mm, delicious." You were aware how insane you sounded but you were salty about the fact that he just left you. In the middle of the street no less.
You were more salty that he didn't bother showing throughout your entire meal. With a heavy sigh, you payed your tab and got ready to leave. If Xiao was avoiding you there was nothing you could do about it, unfortunately.
Setting off on your journey back to your home, you hummed and tried calling him once more. To your surprise, he did actually show up.
"[Name]." He muttered. His mask was on, strangely. He usually never donned the thing with you.
"Oh. You're back. I didn't think youd actually show up after abandoning me like that." You raised an eyebrow at him with a calculative gaze.
The Yaksha didn't bother responding, though, and just fell into step beside you.
You sighed, "Fine, whatever." You linked your arm through his, once again ignoring his stiffening muscles. "Let's just go home."
"Y-Yes."
▪︎✧-✧-✧▪︎
☆ The wind was cool at the top of Wangshu Inn roof. It was nice though, partnered with the amazing view it gave of the night sky.
"It's pretty." You whispered, careful not to disturb the carefully crafted peace. "The stars and the night sky."
The Adeptus nodded in agreement as he lay next to you. He seemed content with the atmosphere, a smile smile on his face that you couldn't help but admire.
Xiao was truly a beautiful being.
Similarly, you couldn't help but reach out and flick a fallen eyelash off of his cheek, right at the corner of his lips.
"What are you doing?" He turned to you confused and held up a hand to his face.
"There... was an eyelash... near your lip." Had Xiao always been this beautiful? Surely, he has... but he seems even more so now, like this. With you.
He nodded and pressed his fingertip to the skin. "I see."
Maybe it was the setting that seemed so weirdly domestic. Or the way he was looking at you, all fondness and familiarity. Maybe it was your own feelings. But you leaned forward and pressed a light kiss to the corner of his lip, right where the eyelash had fallen right before.
Dazed, you watched as he sat up and stumbled over his words, looking at you in shock and bewilderment. You watched as he ran way from you with flushed cheeks and ears.
All you could do was could focus on was the warmth of his lips.
I actually wasn't planning to post this in a while. Mostly because I didn't want to write him too OOC since I haven't interacted with him much in game. I think... I did alright? I hope it was at least. This was actually written in celebration.
I got him with about 80 pity yesterday. I was so happy I was giggling and kicking my feet. Literally. I was that happy to get him.
And for those waiting on it, I am going to write part 2 of Seething Envy. I'm still working out the plot of it, though.
What about a yan bf who wasn't originally a yan but started becoming more and more possessive and etc. the more time you spend together like discovering his urges to keep you to himself or something like that :0
boyfriend yandere ~ ♡
reblogs/comments highly appreciated
· at first, bf yan never double texted, asked to hangout, or was clingy.
· he still doesn't do those things. but whenever you two are with each other, he's got a look in his eyes that scream possessiveness.
· he starts acting more lovey dovey behind closed doors. kissing your hand, hugging you from behind, wrapping an arm around you while watching movies. overall he comes of as an average bf.
· it escalates to nibbling your ear while cuddling, licking your neck from behind, and massaging your thigh. but he keeps it balanced. playing video games without you, going out to see his friends.
· this makes him not suspicious at all. it's surprising he can play it off while figuring out all of his intense emotions and obsession with you. he wants more.
· on some days he so desperately wants to get on his knees and beg you to do everything he fantasizes about you doing to him. other days he holds back the urge to lock you in your room, making you vulnerable to him. look at me more..
· and on rare occasions, he would want to talk it out with you. he wants to vent about the thoughts he feels guilty about, the things that affect his daily life. i'm sorry.
· he thinks maybe you'd recommend him therapy. maybe you'll be kind and understanding, but that makes him go back in a circle, obsessing over your kindness, thinking things like you're so cute and adorable. i think i need help.
· he soon gets jealous over every man who you talk to. so jealous that he's not sure he can take it anymore. he might throw away all logic and go insane. maybe getting rid of those men would relieve some stress... or would it add to his insanity? ...it's worth a try.
People I met for a few moments that live in my head forever.
this- this what humanity should be like
Unpopular opinion: MCU Loki doesn't need to be "fixed" or "redeemed" in his show. OG Loki doesn't need fixing. He IS a person with morals. He IS caring. He only needs to stop being insecure and codependent. But he doesn't need this "bad guy to good guy" thing.
Hello there! Please, I'd like new teasing dialogue prompts and sexual tension between 2 characters that still have feelings for each other, thank you
Teasing Prompts
More Teasing Dialogue Prompts
Still having feelings for each other
"Why are you staring at me?" "Sorry, force of habit. Staring at your stupid face, that is."
"You didn't change one bit. Still stubborn. And still more often right than not."
"Hey, I still know things about you that nobody else does! And I'm not afraid to use that to my advantage."
"You look amazing tonight." "Maybe you should have told me that more often before." "I should have."
"Why are you still talking with my father?" "He always liked me. Your family has great taste when it comes to me."
"Oh, do I annoy you?" "Not more than usual."
"I trust you, you always make good decisions. Mostly. Not when it comes to letting this awesome prize - aka me - go, but in general, I trust your decisions."
"You've always had the worst pick-up lines." "But it did work once."
Hope you like them!
- Jana
the fact that Loki’s death scene in Thor 2 was originally intended to be real & retconned later and the end where he’s alive was filmed during pickups has me SO fucked up because now I can’t choose between which headcanon I prefer re: his behavior in Ragnarok. like listen, okay, either:
1. loki was planning on playing dead the whole time and so his very sad death scene & everything he said therein was a calculated move and he was practically writing the theatrical version of it (starring matt damon as himself) as he went along
OR
2. loki really thought he was dying and every melodramatic word of his death scene was 100% heartfelt and then after he realized he wasn’t dead he fucking… woke up peaced out to go take over asgard (lol?) and several months later he was sitting on the throne and could remember every word of what he said to thor on that day and was like “wow im so fucking poetic. that should be a play. starring matt damon as Me perhaps”
and I honestly could not tell you which is better
#the second one #i refuse to believe loki can actually plan that far ahead #without it all fucking up
Loki five minutes after his dramatic death scene:
just wanting to prove a quick point here. reblog if you believe loki is a complex, well-developed, three-dimensional character who didn’t deserve to be killed in the first 5 minutes of the movie. let’s see how many we are
