#i am not queuing get help

[benevolentgodloki]

@forevermuses

// It's time to go love on Lina today everyone! I'm so lucky to have her in my life as one of the three most awesome people I know (who knew my first true-loml pirate muse would find me each one of you?). All the amazing times and good wishes to a kind, brilliant, bubbly, beautiful person I hope to share many years of knowing, writing with, and bugging irl when I get the chance. She deserves all the happy things coming her way.

Big Loki love to you 💚💚💚

[skitskatdacat63]

Nando being silly in S2E2 of his doc 🥺

[topaziraphale]

"Stop saying Crowley won't help Aziraphale in S3 he'd go back to him in a HEARTBEAT and nothing would stop him" I get it no one likes the idea of Crowley being bitter after what happened for a long period of time but like can we at least acknowledge that he's currently going through probably the most emotional pain in his life since falling? Can we agree that he's opened his heart entirely - something you couldn't pay him to do unless the world is literally ending and he's desperate - to Aziraphale, and got shot down? Can we understand that he did it AGAIN only to lose Aziraphale again? Not that what Aziraphale did isn't without Crowley's own shortcomings (hiding the truth of Heaven's cruelty from him) but like,,,,

The appeal here isn't Scorned Crowley Doesn't Love Aziraphale Anymore, or Never Wants To Help Him Again, the appeal here is Crowley learning enough self respect to not just walk back right to Aziraphale like nothing happened after Aziraphale has had a pattern of consistently refusing him. Going years ping-ponging between "We're not friends I don't even know him" to "That's what friends are for right?" and "We're friends, why would you even say anything?" and "Friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon!"

Like I get it, Crowley is a heartbreakingly forgiving person. Of course he's gonna forgive Aziraphale, I'll be surprised if he didn't forgive him by the time he walked out the bookshop door, but gdi he could at least grant himself the luxury of being at least a little irritated for longer than however long it takes to make a globe and some books float and angrily cry out to God in his flat. But due to the change of pace and dynamic that is establishing part of the conflict for Season 3, I just really like the idea of him for ONCE prioritizing himself and being like "Okay, fine. We'll get back at it when you're ready, then," instead of just taking Aziraphale back like his words and actions meant nothing to him, when clearly they have an effect on him.

What is Aziraphale going to learn if Crowley just accepts what he did so quickly, like he always has the entire time they've been friends? Idk maybe I'm just projecting too much darkness on their dynamic but I mean, if the pattern of Aziraphale pushing Crowley away/disrespecting him one day and then being fine with his friendship the next + Crowley never stopping to be like "Hey, that's not cool, at least give me a little credit" or smth was fine all along and will continue to be fine in the future, then why, after 6,000 years of being friends and loving this demon, can Aziraphale still not accept that Crowley is just fine the way he is, and instead got excited to promote him to an angel in a heartbeat once the opportunity presented itself? You can't blame all of it on Heaven when Aziraphale has demonstrated his free will/defiance to Heaven so many times. Or, I don't know, I guess maybe we can? Maybe I'm just craving too much angst to the point where I'm letting it cloud my analysis of canon. Idk.

[benevolentgodloki]

Loki let out an exasperated scoff. "Of course. I should only ever have expected this. The final lesson learned for untrustworthy Loki, never to be allowed in because the last joke is on him. I guess Sif was right and more fool me."

He wrenched his sling ring off his finger and threw it across the library. His emotion grew with every word he spat.

"Fuck your mystic arts! Fuck the Sanctum. Fuck Agamotto and all the Masters. And fuck you, Stephen!"

Furious tears blurring his vision, Loki turned on his heel. A pulse of magic escaped his clenched fists, spilling almost the entire room's books from their shelves, before he stalked in search of the stairs. With every breath he feared he might cough up his screaming heart.

Stephen wanted it to be true. He would have killed for it to be true, but he knew it was not. Two other truths eclipsed the one he craved, and they were as simple and plain as the fact that Stephen did not deserve love and that Loki was a being crafted in deceit and trickery.

He was also an Asgardian god. What could have ever lead him to love a human such as Stephen? Sure, he was Sorcerer Supreme and held far more power than most other humans, but that didn’t negate his mortality. Loki would outlive him a hundred times over.

With his heart beating wildly in his chest, Stephen steeled himself.

“Liar,” he said, accusation sitting heavily in his tone. “It’s like you’ve just said. Why, out of all creatures, would I believe you?”

[mangofresca]

zephyr | 18+

ii.

“We could leave, y’know.”

Romano startles, head turning over his shoulder as if he were searching for a spy, a conspirator. Sometimes, that’s not unlike how Portugal feels here, always a little too relegated to the outside for comfort, too close to the inside for tranquility or freedom.

He shakes the thought away, eyebrow raised in question at the only other person here who hasn’t exhausted him yet.

Romano’s eyes flick from his face to the windows, to the rain pelting the windowpanes, and he scoffs. “And do what? Get soaked?” His fingers tap the glass in his hand, and Portugal watches with muted disinterest as the wine rocks back and forth, back and forth, an ocean all its own, confined and confined and confined.

“Better than staying here.” Staying here and playing pretend with a government who can only just tell him and Spain apart, and Portugal doesn’t have the stomach anymore for the accent or the language or the face of it all.

Romano tsks, and, for some reason, this infuriates him, as if Romano is content to sit here and be lessened, nothing more than a jewel on a crown on a head who so blatantly picks favorites. Like they’re above it all, the two of them.

He turns, and he leaves, and he doesn’t care enough to see if anyone watches him go.

vi.

“That was–”

Portugal is already pushing up off the bed, flicking hair from his eyes. “Want a drink?”

“Obviously,” Romano snorts, but he sounds like he’s amused, and when Portugal turns around to look at him, all he can see is the way Romano’s lips curl around his teeth, how his cheeks look when he smiles.

ix.

Romano snores when he sleeps, raspy and rough, and when his hair falls in front of his eyes, his nose crinkles with the tickle of it, too deep in dreams to bother moving it away.

We shouldn’t be doing this, Portugal thinks, because things are messy, only getting worse, and he doesn’t understand how Romano doesn’t grow restless beneath a thumb that demands obedience, that is all too comfortable pressing down on the pulse of their throats, hard enough to feel it beating, not hard enough to choke.

“I wish this was easy,” he says instead, and his skin goes cold when he realizes he means it, green eyes already looking down at tanned legs tangled with his, errant curl brushing his collarbone.

He’s gotten used to that, too.

iv.

Portugal can see him on the docks again, hair just as windswept as that first time, waves falling over each other to brush against dark eyelashes, to curl into knots at his hairline.

Spain’s hand is heavy on his shoulder, smile tipping into something that more resembles a bridler than a brother. “You look like you’re thinking hard,” he says, and Portugal hears the warning in it like a bell tolling within his head. “Everything all right?”

“Fine,” Portugal replies. The weight on his shoulder feels suffocating.

vii.

“We should have sex here,” Portugal says, out of the blue and apropos of nothing, voice hushed into a conspiratorial whisper when he leans himself into Romano’s ear.

Romano coughs, splutters, eyes narrowing when Portugal only grins at him.

“Not now, obviously,” he continues, because his brother is here, and his—their, because God forbid any of it is really his—government, too, and he isn’t stupid enough to try anything here, now.

Romano wipes the coughed wine from his lips, arm crossed over his chest as he settles back into the wall behind him. “Please,” he says, and he already sounds scandalized and petulant, “as if I’d settle for anything less than a bed. You think I’d let you fuck me on a settee? Not a chance.”

“I think,” Portugal replies, smiling, “you’d let me fuck you anywhere I want you to.”

Romano scoffs again, furious and blustering, but his shoulder brushes Portugal’s arm, and he doesn’t move it away.

v.

Lively doesn’t adequately describe it when it finally happens.

Romano has him pinned up against the library wall, holding Portugal’s wrists against hand-bound books and shelves which haven’t been dusted in God only knows how long, but all Portugal can think is how difficult it is, when kissing Romano, to push him away, to have him be the one pressed between linen and literature.

He manages, only just, and the heady, groaned gasp of surprise he receives pleasantly makes it worth his while.

x.

Portugal can see him on the docks again, hair wind-knotted and wild, exactly like it was that first time, exactly like the second, like every other time, every other time.

He can’t discern the expression on Romano’s face, too far away for detail, sunlight blinding on wave-crested waters, but he can see him turn around, see him walk away, back to that house and that voice and that hand and that crown.

He almost regrets leaving without a goodbye, but he knows, is certain in the knowledge, that expectation for their kind is the heartbeat of disillusionment, and he doesn’t have it in himself to be disappointed by someone so supine as to find comfort here.

Nothing ever gets resolved with avoidance and shame, but their arrangement never really did have room for much else, anyway.

iii.

He has a dream, then, that lingers worse than a bad hangover or a bloody wound. Maybe it’s years after their last conversation, or maybe it’s days, or maybe it’s hours; he can’t be bothered to keep track, not that their kind usually does when it comes to time.

(Hard. He wakes up hard, and that’s not how his dreams usually go—or, not the ones with Romano, at least.)

Romano was over him, or under him, maybe—not that it matters, because it doesn’t matter, not really. What matters is that Romano was close, breathing against his neck, sighing his name, and it’s—

It was slow, the way they moved. Tender, close.

Odd.

viii.

He’s gotten used to it—the way Romano’s voice hitches, goes taut, tight as his white-knuckled grip on pearl-hued sheets. He’s gotten used to it.

He’s gotten used to it.

i.

They meet officially, formally—and notably without supervision—on the docks of Almería, both windswept and water-worn, and it makes Portugal wonder how long Romano had been standing there for him to look like that, like he himself had blown in with the breeze of the ocean, side-swept bangs tangling into soft knots at his temples.

He is sure he himself is no better, likely worse—a ribbon can only do so much with the whipping winds that dance themselves through his sails—but he doesn’t bother brushing his hair from his face before approaching, grin ticking at the corners of his lips.

Romano blinks at him, hazel eyes owlish before settling into something calmer, almost bored. “Oh,” he says, “it’s you.”

Portugal smiles and tips his head. “Hello,” he replies. Always best to start with hello.

[starflungwaddledee]

do you have any tips for leaving compliments on other people's art ?? your tags are always so well phrased !

oooo oooooooooooooo uuhhhhhhhh hmmm!

firstly, thank you!! i'm rather glad to hear that! i try quite hard to leave meaningful comments so it's nice when folks notice or appreciate it!

outside of commenting on the work, i first consider the tone of what i'm saying and who i'm saying it to.

i always try to make sure that what i'm saying will be appreciated by the person! that's the point. for the most part i leave comments to bring joy to the op, and thank them for their hard work, for being here and sharing art that made me happy! if i'm speaking to a mutual or friend, there's gonna be inside jokes and probably an amount of casual yelling. possibly even a little friendly roast, if i know them well enough. if i'm speaking with someone i don't know as well i try to keep it a little more professional, but i keep in mind that this is a fandom so an amount of yelling and screaming is expected. i tend to think about what i would like from someone else.

also if i notice that a caption or a blogs about is not in english i double check. if english is not the first language of the artist i make sure to construct tags that are easily translated and i use only and exclusively positive phrases. saying things like "delete this!!!! /pos" or "eating my own hands" can be totally lost in translation. i also keep in mind the age of the OP. don't tag as though you're Looking Disrespectfully at the art of a minor, even if that's your favourite blorbo.

as for how to comment on art or storytelling itself, this is indeed a learned skill, and it can be helped by training your eye to understand different things in artwork. but it's easy to start practicing! this is intuitive to me now, but an easy way to begin is to pick out one or two things that really stand out to you on a piece. (examples could be line quality; is it smooth? neat? textured? full of emotion?, shading: is it crisp? atmospheric? realistically rendered?, or colour choice: is it vibrant? is it moody? is it perfectly on model?) and draw attention to them and how the artist successfully used them to make the piece work.

if the piece includes design-work, pick something of that which you like as well. (clothes, colour choices, abilities, parallels to other characters, totally new or unique concepts that you haven't seen before. if you see your favourite colour combos or notions, let them know, but if it's a stranger remember they made the design for themselves, and you just share (good) tastes!) if you really want to make an artist/designer/storyteller's day, try to find the Little Thing that they've snuck into their art or design that ties into the story or lore that they are telling. even guesses to this end tend to be appreciated!

generally useful things you can also comment on are how well an artist has utilised a medium for its strengths, especially if the medium is a little unusual. if someone @'d me in particular i make sure to acknowledge that too because they probably read me for something and i should acknowledge the effort!

another thing i also always, always encourage, is to try to periodically share and comment on the work of people who are either less experienced or who have less visibility than you. especially if you have more of a platform! if you want to keep your blog clean of too many reblogs for aesthetic or professional reasons you can even go through and remove them later, but sharing the work of smaller accounts- even temporarily- makes such a huge difference! and encouraging + supporting younger or beginner artists is something we should be endeavouring to do as much as possible!

at the end of the day, i always just try to be very earnest in my tags.

there is generally no reason to withhold any praises i can think of, because it's usually nice to have your work perceived and appreciated! i personally loooovvve long rambling tags, screaming tags, stuff like "AAHH NOOOOOOO (THE BLORBO)" and so on. i try to leave the kind of thoughtful comments that i like (and am lucky enough) to receive, and i try to share artwork from a wide variety of people!

[akkivee]

one of the craziest bat bars like actually

[benevolentgodloki]

Loki gives another light snort of amusement at the 'first date' comment. He presumes Tony refers to their first meetings, blasting one another with energy; verbally sparring; using the other to break glass. Though there's a tightness in his chest that betrays just how not fully okay he is, the compliments are a balm.

He feels a pull now as he listens to Tony speak. Perhaps it's the innate magic of the hour, but he finds himself craving the man's physical presence. Or Stephen's. Or both. To feel that chemistry of whispering in the dark with someone so close. How he has missed that and how so very long ago he has felt it.

Tony's next question draws him back to less comforting thoughts.

"Now you mention it, yes. I can't say if there has been an influx of the dead returning. You'd think we would have heard. I suppose I assumed it must be something to do with the multiverse meddling our mutual acquaintance engaged in. Or something about the time at which we died put us in a place that allowed us to get back here."

His lips purse before he utters his next words.

"It may be possible for me to uncover lost memories. Only I know your feelings on magic on minds."

There's something infinitely comforting in all this, and Tony was never one to use that word genuinely. But there's an undeniable blanket of peace that washes over him. Perhaps it's the midnight hour, the soothing tenor of the god's voice, or perhaps he's simply too weary to hold up his defenses much longer.

However, the why is rather irrelevant when in the shadow of the what. What will Tony do with this bubble of stillness that bloomed between them?

Warm brews within him at Loki's words, and a soft chuckle escapes his lips.

"If my opinion holds any weight—and we both know it does; my consulting rates have only increased with the inflation—I will say that you seem to be holding up pretty well given the circumstances, which, mind you, are not small even by our standards. You don't land on Earth with that powerful, cunning, and tenacious and not make something of yourself, and I'm not talkin' about our first date."

His eyes roam the darkness as he draws in a slow pull of breath.

"Do you ever think it's mighty suspicious that we both cropped back up shortly after the other? Like someone might've lost their action figures, and they might be coming to collect?"

[duodipersponsh]

"why are women always reading gay men fanfiction this is strange and sounds like sexualizing" have we considered that we as a species have messed up so badly that now there's a gaping hole in our collective metaphorical chest that can and should only be filled with 82755104184910 thousand fics with men that are caring and loving and kind and silly and hurt and stupid and miserable and loved and

[doodlingwren]

Hiatus

I am going on hiatus for a bit more. I really really hoped the stuff that have been going on lately were already "sorted out" but, uhm... they aren't. I need to take a bit more time offline once again, and try to work things out.

Thank you for your patience ❤

Wren

[fairybluedreams]

Hi y'all! Here is my finals campaign on why you should vote for Nani Pelekai in the @eldest-sibling-tournament today!!

Edited to add***

Poll just dropped vote Nani today!

https://www.tumblr.com/eldest-sibling-tournament/712608371217481728/eldest-sister-tournament-final-round

[benevolentgodloki]

Chuckling, Loki closes the portal again. "Ok, ok. In all seriousness, I think it would be better if I got you as close as possible to home."

He turns to Scott, palms open in query.

"If you will allow me to access your thoughts — only what you want me to see — I will be able to find where you want to go and make your journey instantaneous. Otherwise you could be anywhere in San Francisco and still pushing this thing by morning."

Scott clamps his eyes and mouth shut as a gust of freezing wind peppered with snowflakes. When the wind dies down enough for him to open his eyes again, he’s face to face with…penguins??

“I’m definitely not built for this kind of climate!” He looks at Loki, huffing when he sees the smirk on the other’s face. “Oh yes, of course, because San Francisco sounds just like Antarctica,” he comments with some sass.

[balladetto]

haven't been feeling as bold with this blog, so i figure what better way to get things straight with anxieties than making a checking in to make sure it's cool for me to send unprompted things your way post. in interacting with this, you're confirming that i can:

drop into your inbox, unprecedented ( ♡ )

drop into your ims, unprecedented ( ♡ )

potentially other casual interactions like tagging you in reblogged posts and so on!

[chaoticfandomthot]

Sometimes a show is so heartwrenching amd good that i need to finish it in one sitting

And sometimes a show is so heartrenching and good that if i watch it for too long at once i simply explode because it hurts too bad

[benevolentgodloki]

He closed his eyes in another show of relief. Loki wasn't 100% certain what 'blipped' meant but he could guess that it was something to do with Thanos' overarching plan.

"Okay. That's a comfort."

His hands found his hips and then he frowned at the woman, trying to put out of his mind that she was actually quite attractive for a — what was it she had said?

"Did you say the Hulk is your cousin? How-? I thought Doctor Banner's condition was down to some gamma explosion. Were you also caught in this blast?"

Jen nodded her head. “Yeah. Everything is fine with Earth for now that is…” She watched his movements, apparently he missed a lot going in the last couple years… “The Avengers defeated Thanos a year ago, it was a whole lot going on then. People were blipped and whatnot but the Avengers brought them all back.” She hoped that explained it in the best and easiest way possible.

[diluc33rpm]

astarion is so fucking funny as a character because conceptually he hits all the marks of a wet cat blorbo but in practice he's unbelievably hard to stand. i'll be on the bg3 companion guide and have to start CRYING from trying to find the shit under his section that gains approval. loses -15 points for gently suggesting we not massacre an orphanage in cold blood with the d&d equivalent of a nuclear warhead