adult women arenât inherently creepy for being in fandom and having hobbies apart from raising babies and doing taxes
the vast majority of people pushing back against the worrying trend of instigating harassment over fictional characters and relationships arenât incest supporters or pedophiles, actually
liking a m/f ship doesnât make someone a dirty heterosexual invading your space
preferring gay ships doesnât make you ââwokeââ and good
no one owes you a disclaimer that they are a good person who recognizes that their favorite fictional villainâs actions are evil and that they donât condone those actions irl
liking a fictional villain is in no way comparable to advocating abuse/murder/genocide/etc and youâre a fucking idiot if you believe that
just because a woman is attracted to a fictional villain doesnât mean sheâs promoting toxic relationships or going to end up in a toxic relationship. assuming women canât tell fiction and reality apart stinks of internalized misogynyÂ
some randoâs a/b/o fanfics have none of the level of influence that popular tv shows and movies spreading propaganda have
no one owes you a detailed description of their traumas and mental health problems
abusive relationships are not the same as enemies to lovers ships
yâall need to chill the fuck out over people, relationships, actions and events that donât actually exist and learn how to enjoy and discuss them like normal people
In my newfound love for the sandman, I shall share a a discovery that Iâve stumbled upon in my hunt for content , neil gaiman and the cast have done a little kindness to us.
Thereâs a handful of audios from the cast and Iâm totally in love with dreams guide.
I saw a tweet asking about what opinion do people have that might enrage others and someone replied with Druig being a separate individual and exist not solely for Drukkari.
Which of course I agree with but I don't necessarily think it's an opinion us Drukkari shippers would be upset about. I for one, loved Druig's character arc so much.
Sersi was introduced as the Eternal who has the most empathy towards humankind but Druig, though. He was the very first one to question their mission and purpose. He was angered to tears seeing violence in humanity and being held back to do anything to prevent bloodshed. He knew he could stop any war and it pained him for not being allowed to do so. Druig spoke up for Thena who didn't want to have her memories erased. He was the first one to withdraw from the team and their questionable mission.
Druig always asked the questions that everyone was afraid to ask. He read everyone as brutally honest as he could but almost everything he said was right. He's just not as likeable as Ikaris but he is the most honest Eternal among them.
How can I not simp for this man? Tbh, Drukkari is just the icing to the cakes of Druig & Makkari individually. â¤ď¸
p.s. if you see a tweet saying similar things to this post, that would be me; follow me on twt @cherokeexxi â¨
Itâs pretty likely that itâs a four digit number, and as there are four digits chosen there, that means that there cannot be any repetition. This mean that there are:
n!/(n-4)! possible orders. As ânâ is 4 (number of digits available). 4!/0! which becomes 4x3x2x1/1 which simplifies to 24. That means that there are 24 possible combinations of codes. This would take you about two or three minutes to input all possible codes.
well âtechnicallyâ the code is most likley 1970. statistically, a majority of people, when told to choose a 4 digit code will choose their birth year. and this key pad is obviously a few years old to put it nicely, thats most likley it.Â
No, no, no. Donât base your deductions of psychology. Letâs talk chemistry. When you first press a button, thereâs more of the natural oils on your skin, and therefore it wears down the numbers on the keys faster. Obviously 0 is the first one, then. Try 0791 first.
Close, but not quite, I think. People will almost always choose a number they can remember. Whatâs memorable about 0791? Try 0719 - a birthday, 19th of July. That is more likely.
ok but can we talk about the way their body languages differ???
ikaris is intimidating, chest out, crowding her space in the same way heâd stand up against someone he was about to fight. not an ounce of love or affection in his eyes. and sersi, sheâs looking down, maybe not scared but definitely tense. thereâs a clear power dinamic here at play.
drug and makkari are the absolute opposite: theyâre more than lovers, theyâre best friends. theyâre equals. makkari isnât tense or scared, sheâs right there with him, just as into it. his body language screams calm, non-aggressiveness. his eyes are soft, and heâs not trying to get anything from her. heâs just loving her for the sake of loving her, expecting nothing in return. which is why heâs so so grateful for whatever she decides to give him.
Who knows what future movies or projects were ruined.
Okay, I donât know how true this is - but this is huge fucking news.
Iâve been saying this for a while now, but Disney, Amazon and co. are trying to return to the studio system of the old Hollywood days that got - rightly - discontinued in the 1960s. Those were the days when each studio owned their own cinemas that could only stream their movies, where they owned actors who could only play in their movies (unless hired out by others) - and that led to people like Judy Garland, Marilyn Monroe etc. literally being owned by studios that fed them non stop pills and driven to overdose.
Thatâs the end point. Thatâs not the point weâre at now. But youâll notice that in the last 3 or 4 years, every major production company now has a streaming platform. Much like up until the late 1960s in America, you can only see movies on company-owned platforms. This, with Johansson, is a huge step further - the largest production company in the world - who breached contract, not the other way around - are now essentially blacklisting Johansson from working with them for speaking out against them. Sure, this isnât a blacklist on the level of the red and lavender scares - but if they can do this to Johansson, the biggest actor in the world, it sets a huge fucking precedent for blacklisting anybody who stands up for workersâ rights.
It also sees Disney - and other companies will follow suit, as they always do - moving a step closer to owning their stars. What Disney is trying to say is that Disney and Johansson are not equal partners in the contract, but that Disney has the ultimate say over everything. This idea that the contract is a formality is absolutely fucked, because it means that artists have no rights under the corporations, and if they want to continue to work they have to obey. Nobody is signing exclusive contracts yet, but you bet this is reverting to Judy Garland times.Â
We are not going forwards. The movie industry is going backwards to the days of Louis B. Mayer (and itâs capitalismâs fault) and we all need to boost the fuck out of this. The courts will handle the Disney case - but we must support ScarJo (I say as very much a non ScarJo fan) and make sure that she continues to have a career after this, to set the precedent that audiences will not stand for future blacklisting.
Pairing: Loki/Female Reader (Wanda calls you âsheâ a couple of times, but if you use other pronouns, let me know, and Iâll swap those out for you.)
Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff? Not sure.
Rating: G.
Summary: Early one morning, you get some news that shatters your entire world. It leaves Loki worried not just about you but also about his place in your life.
Warnings/Notes: So I did manage to write some sort of story this week, and I do feel relatively good about it, all things considered. I know this isnât nearly as sweet and fluffy as the other Lullabies, but this is kind of the best that I can do this week. Thereâs a lot of me in this one. I try not to do that all the time, but my brain isnât really working at full capacity; Iâm sorry. The best I could manage this week was Loki fretting over you and wanting to take care of you. Itâs kind of all I want lately.
New but Retroactive Reminder for this and all of my fics: I do not, have not, and will not give anyone permission to copy/paste, translate, or otherwise take or modify this story to post it anywhere else. You can find my stories here on Tumblr or under kaeorin on AO3, but nowhere else. This does not apply only to fics which hold this disclaimer--NONE of my works are to be stolen or modified. Additionally, please remember that Liking a post on Tumblr does not increase the author's exposure. I don't run your life, but readers should be reblogging the works they like.
The Price We Pay
So itâs true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love. E.A. Bucchianeri
Loki was not ordinarily in the habit of spending much time musing over whether he should be in any given location. He'd done entirely too much of that as a child, and he was tired of it. But lately, here in your apartment with you, Loki couldn't help but feel like he was intruding, taking up too much space, asking too much of you while offering little in return.
It began with an early-morning phone call that roused the both of you from a peaceful sleep. He watched as you checked the caller ID on your phone and then answered and sat up. He traced his fingers along your side as you listened quietly to whoever was on the other end of the line. When you finally began to respond, something cold slithered up his spine. Your voice was low and pained. He knew you well enough to recognize the barest hint of a tremor, the threat of tears that you were currently holding back. After a few more exchanged words, you turned off your phone and laid back down, hiding your face in your pillow and trying to breathe steadily.
He rubbed gentle circles onto your back but otherwise remained quiet. He knew you. He knew, more or less, how your mind worked. If you wanted to tell him what that was about, youâd tell him when you could. Asking you about it wouldnât help much of anything. It did bother him to hear how desperately you were fighting not to cry. Every once in a while, your body would shudder, and norns, he wanted to pull you into his arms to make it all better. But he didnât. Really, what could he do to change anything?
After some time, the truth came out. Though it was difficult for you to speak, you told him that a family member, someone very important to you, had passed on. His chest tightened. For beings with such short lifespans, death seemed to hit Midgardians especially hard. It didnât seem fair to him. If you were trapped in bodies which would wither and die so quickly, surely it would have been far kinder to give your minds better defenses against the shock of it all. But your eyes, when you could bring yourself to look at him, were absolutely devoid of the lively sparkle that heâd come to love.
He wasnât sure what to say. Maybe there wasnât anything that he could say. There were no words that would return your loved one to you, and all the other words he could think of would only remind you of your pain. So, with a silver tongue gone still in his mouth, he stroked your hair and held you close and let you hide your face against him as you cried. You clung to him.
The rest of that first day was odd, to say the least. Mostly, you moved on autopilot, working through your morning routine and even sitting down to open your laptopâto work? All he could do was watch warily. It could make sense, he thought, for you to seek out some kind of normal. Still, he kept an eye on you. Here and there, your attention would waver, and he made sure to take advantage of that when he could. He plied you with coffee, with food, with water, and though often you wound up putting them all to the side to ignore them in favor of work, sometimes you would stop working long enough to take in some much-needed sustenance. When you did, a quiet sort of pride surged within him.
But you also did a lot of staring into the distance. Your face wasnât blank, exactly, but it certainly wasnât as bright and animated as it usually was. He normally loved to watch the way your thoughts and emotions played out on your face, especially when you were lost in a book or in work. So the blankness seemed rather like a mask, like something you had to work to enforce...but why? To keep him from knowing how you felt?
Thatâs when the doubt began to creep in. He went on holding you close, but could that possibly be enough?
Word got around. After some encouragement from Loki, you told Wanda what had happened, and it didnât take all that long for the word to spread throughout the Tower. Your phone rang, vibrated, beeped with calls and messages of support from your friends until he finally noticed how brittle you were beginning to look. When he did, he stole your phone away and set it to Do Not Disturb. He still wasnât sure he liked how hard you were trying to work, but heâd decided that it was his job to allow you to do so more or less uninterrupted.
Days went by. Not a lot changed. Sometimes, there were periods of the day where you almost seemed, well...normal. You could chat quietly with him and smile and even laugh, and his heart would soar at the way you looked at him. You began to speak, a little, about the one youâd lost. The stories didnât last long, but he could hear the love in your voice, and the regret. Unfortunately, he knew all too well the way your voice sounded when the lump in your throat grew large enough to choke off your words, and when that happenedâit always happenedâhe took care to put his arm around your shoulder and pull you in close. It didnât get any easier for him to figure out what to say in hopes of easing your pain, but you kept allowing him to hold you anyway.
Someone in the TowerâStark, maybe, or Miss Pottsâsent take-out meals to your apartment: lunch and dinner, every day, varying widely but consistently delicious. Loki watched as you did your best to eat them, and had to force his disappointment and concern down every time you had to stop partway through. He tried to mention it to you only once, and the stubbornness in your voice as you insisted that you just werenât hungry, that youâd had more than enough food already, that you were fine, kept him from saying anything about it again. He was thinking only of your well-being, but if he got you too wound up, you might stop eating altogether. So he let it go, but went on offering you little snacks and beverages in hopes of tempting you to take a few bites.
Wanda visited a few times. Sheâd pop by in the evenings, with some sort of little gift in her hand and a sad, loving smile on her face. You let her hold you the way that Loki did, though it wasnât hard to note that you did not allow yourself to cry while seeking shelter against her throat. Sometimes she brought some sort of dessert, and no matter how much or how little of dinner youâd eaten, youâd always humor her by taking a few bites of whatever sheâd brought. More often, she brought films, and the three of you sat together on your sofa in the dark, watching the comedies and tragedies of othersâ lives play out on the screen.
One night, Loki felt something familiar in the air. It was the telltale ripple of energy, a clear sign of someone using magic. He looked over at Wanda. Her eyes were fixed on the screen, but he did not miss the way she held your hand. As he watched, you relaxed into him more and more, and finally let out a quiet sigh as your eyelids slipped closed. She was using her powers to lull you to sleep. Twofold irritation stabbed through him: she hadnât asked your permission before using her powers on you, but also it had not yet occurred to him to do something similar to help you sleep.
She met his eyes over the top of your head. His disapproval must have been showing on his face, because she offered a tiny, almost apologetic smile.
âShe would never have agreed to it,â she reasoned in a low voice. âBut she hasnât been sleeping, right?â
Your stubbornness was well-known to everyone who loved you, but he hesitated before answering her. In a way, giving away that sort of information almost felt like a betrayal. But he was giving you the space you needed, and so perhaps he needed something for himself. He set his jaw and stared in the direction of the television. âNot well.â
It made him feel uncharacteristically helpless. He couldnât do anything for you. He couldnât bring anyone back from the dead. He could not ease your mind. He could not help you sleep. He didnât know the first thing about comforting anyone, especially not someone as important to him as you were. What, exactly, was he doing here?
As though she could read his mind, Wandaâs voice sounded again in the darkness. âYouâre good for her, you know. I am glad that you are here.â Just barely, he managed not to snort at her words. She didnât elaborate. He was not about to allow himself to press her for more information, for more compliments, but it was hard to know what in the nine she could possibly be talking about.
When the film ended, she rose and pressed a kiss to your hand, careful not to wake you as she released her hold on you. But then she reached out to take his hand, and did the same. âShe will be okay,â she said in that same low voice. âAnd it will be thanks to you. Sleep well.â
You slept soundly even after she left, even after he lifted you into his arms to help you to bed. When he joined you under the blankets, you turned so you could curl your body into his and pressed your face to that familiar place beneath his chin. It was hard to know exactly what the future heldâfor you, for him, for anyone. Some nights, you cried in your sleep. Others, nightmares crept in to steal away your rest. But, in this very moment, you were pressed securely against him, and there was not a question in his mind that he would do everything in his power to look out for you.
I was at work the other day and I was serving this table who consisted of 2 men and a woman. One of men had a jumper with Gryffindor written on it and I said âoh I'm a Gryffindor too.â and he laughed and agreed and then as I placed down the ladies meal of fish and chips she squealed, clapped her hands and shouted âYESS, it's garden peas. I love garden peasâ, I had to go back and get the rest of the food and when I came back I said to her â sorry if I'm being rude but I assume your a Hufflepuff, â she then tried to tell me she didn't know but that she used to be Slytherin, to which I pointed out that she just shouted at me about how much she loved garden peas and I swear the giggle that came out of her was the most huffelpuff laugh I've ever heard.
