#and I’m allowed to rant

[inquisitor-apologist]

I remember when the Kenobi show first came out, and there was quite a lot of outrage around the fact that Reva knew Vader’s identity.

I specifically remember one post on r/fixingmovies suggesting that this plot hole could be fixed by… rewriting the Order 66 Jedi Temple flashback scenes at the beginning of the series to include Reva as a Jedi youngling, and thus giving her a reason to know Vader was Anakin Skywalker. I am sincerely not joking.

If you, perhaps, remember the Kenobi series and have, perhaps, a singular brain cell, you will remember that not only was it quite clearly obvious that Reva was one of the younglings in that flashback, but that this was later explicitly confirmed.

Obviously this ‘fix’ was not needed in any way and was entirely ridiculous.

Reading this, you are, perhaps, shaking your head at the idiocy of some people. But rest assured that your criticisms of the ‘plot holes’ and ‘lore-breaking events’ and other unutterably terrible occurrences in The Acolyte are THE SAME FUCKING THING

[heynhay]

girls girls girls

[tunaricebowl]

finally got my pics back from the lil shoot i did at the japanese gardens earlier this month c: i honestly didnt know what other pose to do but other than that i think these look super cool! it’s my very first cosplay as well so i’m still figuring out how to be photographed and stuff

[flowercrowngods]

ronance yearning hours

Mornings like this are becoming Nancy’s favourite thing, with the rising sun painting the room in golden light that always, always lands on Robin, who usually sleeps long past sunrise when she can. Nancy lets her; there’s nowhere for her to go anyway on this slow Saturday morning in Steve’s house, and the boys will only wake in an hour or so.

Nancy has taken to using that time to watch the picture of absolute serenity that is a sleeping Robin, with her cheek smushed into the pillow and her hair falling over her face in a way that never fails to make Nancy smile.

It also never fails to make her fingers twitch, itching to reach out and brush that hair behind her ear and see if her cheek is as smooth to the touch as it looks.

It gets stronger, this urge, with every slow Saturday morning that she wakes in the same bed as her. The journalist inside her wants to find a better word for it, a stronger one, to avoid repetition and ensure clarity. But all the words are big and carry implications for which Nancy is not yet ready.

She refuses to call it longing, this need inside her to touch and linger. She refuses to call it yearning, the way she looks forward to Friday nights at Steve’s with Robin and Eddie, or the way it fills her chest with excitement and giddiness just to think about sharing a bed and waking next to her and watching as all the things that overwhelm Robin on a daily basis are held off for at least another hour yet.

What’s in a word? she’ll scoff when it comes to interviews and articles and hours of agonising over sentence structure and synonyms.

But it’s on mornings like this that she realises that some words require bravery and tenderness rather than simple contemplation and calculation. Some words take time.

Beside her, Robin sighs quietly in her sleep, and Nancy shuffles closer. Because if she can’t be brave with words yet, not even with herself, she can at least be closer.

Using the momentum of a moment unguarded, her right hand comes up before she can stop it, finding a home on Robin’s cheek as she slowly, reverently brushes the hair out of her face and behind her ear. Her touch is light, fingertips ghosting over soft, warm skin — and feeling that softness upon her touch, she wonders if falling in love with Robin would be just as soft, just as gentle; just as warm.

Not a second later, Nancy pulls her hand away as if burned, her heart racing in her chest as if it were signalling her to run, you should be running, i’m racing like you’re running for your life before you’re caught and found out. Nancy balls her hand into a fist and scoots further back on the bed, feeling a heaviness inside her chest that has only been there for a few of these mornings. A fear. A panic.

Because terrible things happen when Nancy Wheeler wonders about love and touch and tenderness. And worse things still, because it’s not supposed to be like this. Not with Robin.

So she stays on her side of the bed, watching the sun dance along Robin’s skin, her hand still warm, the ghost touch of Robin’s soft cheek still present. And she watches, hand cradled to her chest to stop herself from reaching out again. She watches and wonders if maybe she should start using bigger words, because the pit in her chest is growing larger with every passing second and she needs something to fill it.

~*~

It happens again the next week. And the week after that. It seems like the first time broke something in Nancy, or maybe it came alive, but either way she can’t really stop reaching for Robin now. And her repertoire of words is growing with each Saturday morning, too. Longing, aching, yearning — they are classics. But there’s basking, too. Hoping, wishing, and imagining. God, does she imagine.

She imagines Robin’s lips turning up into a smile with Nancy’s hand on her cheek, she imagines her hand coming up to capture Nancy’s and just holding it. Or an image that makes her heart race again: kisses brushed to her knuckles. Or her lips.

She imagines, and she wishes, and she longs. But there’s also belonging. In fact, there’s a whole novel Nancy feels she could write in those early morning hours. A thousand pages dedicated to all the words that exist around Robin Buckley. Words that live inside Nancy; that part is important.

Four weeks have passed and the feelings have only grown stronger, developed more words that will forever remain between her and the morning sun. And Nancy can’t stop herself from trailing the back of her finger along smooth, warm skin, the touch too light to disturb the sleeping beauty.

Sleeping Beauty, who stills and stiffens minutely, but Nancy is too mesmerised to notice until it’s too late.

“You’ve gotta stop this,” Robin whispers, her voice hoarse from sleep, and Nancy’s heart leaps out of her chest in panic and embarrassment.

“Sorry,” she whispers, pulling her hand back toward her chest. She’ll explain. Robin had something on her face that Nancy brushed away, that’s all. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s—

“Or I’ll fall madly in love with you if you don’t.”

Oh. Oh?

Oh.

Nancy swallows as her thesaurus dissolves and all words escape her. She blinks. Robin’s eyes are still closed but there’s a shadow of a smile on her lips, dimpling the skin that Nancy caressed just seconds ago.

There is the chance to just ignore that this ever happened, with Robin not looking at her, not making this moment real yet, on the brink of sleep and wakefulness. All she’ll have to do is wait. It’s the best chance she’s ever going to get, to forget about all this and get over it. Over her. Over whatever she has been building inside herself under the light of the rising sun over the past weeks.

All she’d have to do is remain still and silent and wait for Robin to fall back asleep.

But there was something about big words and bravery, and even though her thesaurus has left her and the thousand pages of things to feel, to say, to do, to think around Robin have torn themselves up because they were bleak and bland and not enough, Nancy feels brave on this particular morning.

Because the world hasn’t ended yet in all those weeks that she’s been thinking about Robin. In fact, the world has stopped ending since she started seeing Robin for who she is. And in a world where bravery is not about surviving, it is always about love.

And maybe that’s what she feels, maybe that’s what she wants, what she allows herself to want when she lays her hand on Robin’s cheek to caress the softest skin and gently comb back the strands of hair that are threatening to fall back over her face again. Her beautiful face that’s pulling up into a smile now — and Nancy is not imagining it. In fact, she’s smiling, too. She’s smiling so wide that a tiny little laugh bubbles past her lips.

Robin scoots closer, eyes squinting open now, as if to make sure this is real. As if she’s feeling the same. As if she meant it, what she said just now.

Nancy swallows thickly when Robin tucks her head under her chin, her body curling into Nancy’s, finding one of her hands to hold it. She still feels too raw, too vulnerable, and she wants to ask. Wants to be sure. Wants it to be real.

“Five more minutes,” Robin says, already on her way back to a deep sleep. “And then we’ll talk about this. I’ll tell you all about this girl I like. Think she might like me back. And she’s so warm.” She buries a little deeper into her side to chase that warmth that is now filling her whole body.

And Nancy gasps out a laugh this time, a tiny one, gentle and tender and all those words that are slowly coming back to her now that Robin is curled into her side and holding her hand. Her free hand comes up to comb through Robin’s hair in steady motions to lull her back into a slumber.

“Sleep,“ she breathes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Robin hums, cuddling impossibly closer, and Nancy feels herself drifting off again, too. With a smile on her face. For the first time in years.

[clegfly]

Getting REAL sick and tired of how omori TikTok views sunny.

Like, they view any scene of him being emotionally vulnerable, affectionate, or even just making an expression outside of just being completely neutral as “mischaracterised”. He’s not some cool, stoic, unwavering badass, he is a traumatised teenager. Don’t cry whenever he dares to give his friend a hug or (god forbid) be SAD about something??? Isn’t like. Part of the point of his development about him allowing himself to break down the repressive walls he built when he shut himself in? And being able to rely on his real friends instead of imaginary versions? And isn’t the game like. Meant to SHOW that he still cares about them despite isolating himself?

It’s really stupid to get mad at a character like that showing emotion or affection personally, especially since he’s not used to expressing it properly after so long. But that’s just me

[blossoms-phan]

will pay $4000000000000 for a gold vip ticket after today

[avatarthelastairbenderr]

No actually people ARE allowed to critique media ESPECIALLY when there’s source material

I think a lot of people who are upset with people for disliking ATLA Netflix are conflating critiquing media with “hating”. Which is ?? A jump. A leap.

I’ve really only seen hateful things said about the actors (which IS bullshit and shouldn’t be tolerated) — and I’m sure there are some people “hating” but someone saying they didn’t like a show for a specific reason (costuming, writing, pacing, etc.) is NOT “hating”.

people are 100000% allowed to say something did not live up to what they hoped for. They are allowed to say “I didn’t like x y z”. Their opinion isn’t invalid because they weren’t impressed or happy with the outcome of the show. Lots of people were very excited for this show and felt let down. That’s their opinion and their experience.

Critiquing ≠ hating

And ya know? Vice versa. People are also allowed to like media you didn’t like.

Just be respectful to each other for fucks sake.

[coffeeisfortheresponsible]

i hate that old nickelodeon shows are borderline unrewatchable because you now realize how many inappropriate and weird things were put into them by dan schneider. it genuinely makes me so angry that he was allowed to be in charge of writing the scripts for kids shows and no one stopped him from adding in sexual jokes and scenes. and now the shows are ruined and permanently uncomfortable to watch because you know why those scenes are there. i hate it.

[musicalmoritz]

The pain of rarely hating characters in fandoms that treat stanning villains like it’s a moral issue

[formulanni]

is there any like actual solid reason as to why you think carlos is cringe and why you hate lando?

Idk I think it's a bit harsh

(Not the same anon as the one who asked about carlos btw)

I just… think he’s cringe? I don’t hate him 😭😭 he was one of my favorite drivers for a really long time just idk he icks me out

Also… I don’t have to have a reason? As to why I think something is cringe? Or why something icks me out? It’s not harsh it’s just my opinion and how I feel 😭 I’m not saying I want the guy dead I’m just saying I haven’t been a fan recently.

Um! With Lando! I just don’t like him! For a lot of reasons, mainly the fan base. I’m not gonna go into it bc I don’t want to isolate anyone I’m just not a fan 😳 I think if I didn’t have to hear about him as much I’d like him a lot more

[valewritessss]

Whenever someone says Annabeth is overrated I just think, good, I don’t want to share her with you.

No but in all seriousness I don’t care what characters someone hates or loves but when they say that I can’t help but be happy I can’t relate at all

[lemoneste]

Okay yall, I NEED a Phantom of the Opera fic where everything is the same up until Raoul comes into Christine’s dressing room after performance and Phantom is behind the mirror seething and emitting smoke from his ears cuz this handsome bastard is in a room with his babygurl like NO!!!!!! But then!!!!! Raoul and Christine (for some reason) sing together and Raoul can sing?!????!?!!? Like, so well????? Like omg his voice is so good??????? And it unlocks The Phantom of the Opera bisexual Phantom arc except everything remains more or less the same apart from the fact that now Phantom ALSO wants Raoul bc either

1.) he thinks that Raoul and Christine singing together is a perfect combination and wants to hear it forever or

2.) Raoul is BOTH pretty AND talented so YOINK!! That’s mine too, or

3.) Raoul is talented and pretty but just like not musically educated so Phantom takes it upon himself to teach him just like Christine.

Or all of the three above!!!

AND EVEN BETTER!!!! If Phantom is like being weird and Christine is like “oh sir what is it that plagues you?”(idk some gay shit like that) and Phantom is like “you know that boy who came into your room-“ and Christine is immediately like “NO!!! Don’t kill him he’s my friend!!!! Please-“ and Phantom is like “no girl, I’m gonna kidnap your boyfriend ALSO!!!!” And Christines like “NOOOO!!!!!!” And Christine tries to warn Raoul but bc Raoul is the 1800s equivalent of a himbo jock baseball player he’s just like “🕺girl, that’s crazy!🕺” and then when Phantom pulls him into the ceiling by yanking him up by his pants with a rope and hook Raoul is just like “🕺girl you were right🕺”

And then Phantom has two(2) of them.

Anyways thx for coming to my Ted talk, that was the beginning, now I will talk abt how-

[cowboyinternist]

to be entirely honest this podcast would be so unenjoyable if it was 100% plot “relevancy” 100% of the time. literally half the appeal of this show is that it’s twilight zone slice of life.

[sacrificethelamb]

Non-sexual reasons for my shibari:

It’s pretty. I like how it looks.

Compression therapy for CPTSD.

I’m fixated on string and cannot escape it’s chokehold.

It allows me to have a place in alt modeling that is not attached to my weight / appearance.

I bonded with my best friend over it and now she is my rigger.

It taught me how to advocate for myself.

Stop asking me if my shibari is sexual. Here is your answer: it is not.

[lunarelly]

sorry what was that im busy thinking about how chuuya nearly died under someone else’s control meaning he almost died while actively being used like a puppet which is a fate that has always been a possibility for him since his ability’s full potential is the price of his autonomy and i’m thinking about the cruel irony of that and i’m so okay about it i’m fine i’m not upset

[thedreadblog]

Tumblr is way better at filtering tags than tiktok. The latter seems intent on spoiling EVERYTHING.