#my phone is so Weird its so. its so phone

[under-clouds-and-stars]

yeah, the ADF has several lines that are too reminiscent of prior pseudo-nationalist/revisionist rhetoric for comfort. hinting at the idea that germans are singularly guilted and down-trodden on the world stage and need to have a cultural reawakening to how great their history is bound to lead to a nationalist mindset. much of the emphasis put upon the holocaust in german society didn't come from outside influence, but by the next generation of germans upon reaching adulthood in the 60s-70s, and realizing how little they had been told about anything by their parents. i cannot speak to the way its presented in germany today, i've never been there, but the arguments used by some prominent afd members are nothing new in the "revitalization" of the holocaust legacy. the holocaust-in terms of the complacency needed and the industrial-ilke manner that it was carried out with-was entirely unique, and should never be forgotten.

i don't know tons about the adf in-depth, but they seem populist, which is a bad sign in and of itself. whatever legitimate concerns they have about immigration (and yes, there are plenty. islamic cultures have values that are absolutely contradictory to ones held in a modern-day germany, and so massive amounts of people from these cultures permanently moving in, without taking their troubling views into account, poses huge problems for the maintaining of civil rights, especially of women and jews) their rhetoric is worrying. undoubtedly several members of it have been outspokenly revisionist and have blown actual anti-semitic/racist dog whistles. if i were german, i would not vote for them. but i don't think that everyone voting for this party is a bona-fide white supremacist either, though; many people vote out of anxiety over what they see immediately around them and do not think in the long-term. that's just my view of it as a non-european, can't do any better than that.

for a man so obnoxious as to make holocaust jokes after being accused of nazism, him showing up on stream for the afd could be anything from just another show of how edgy-controversial he is, or genuinely buying into revisionist rhetoric. i don't claim to know his motivations for doing it, and i hope for everyone's sake he doesn't hold racist views in his heart. also, i dont see why an american should weigh in on german politics like that. i would certainly be pissed if some rich german phoned in to try and influence US politics, so i hate it on that principal alone

considering that he is an avid and vocal supporter of israel (reportedly even censoring tweets that referred to "de-colonization" of Gaza, which is definitely an overreach of his power) nazism would be a weird stance to take. whatever your view on israel and its actions, his insistence that the destruction in gaza is justified in order save israelis from genocide, and pouring tons of cash into the campaign of a pro-israel president, cannot be squared with him secretly hating jews and being a nazi. you can argue its all a front, but he's certainly put his money where his mouth is. he don't seem thoughtful enough to be playing 4-d chess or anything.

also, jic, i am aware that there was a movement among the nazis in pre-war germany to get european jews to immigrate to israel. because they hated them and didn't want them there. if millions of european jews had done so back then, do you think the nazis would've shed a single freaking tear about them being killed after the fact. the motivations behind these two positions are completely opposed, and i hate how often this is brought up because its disingenuous.

here's the thing. i do not argue that the video above does not look bad. it does. what i argue is that it is dishonest and unfair to paint anyone who has any doubt that he meant to do a nazi salute as a brainwashed idiot, shill, or a nazi. by and large that is what people on this site and others are saying, the insistence that everyone in that room knowingly and whole-heartedly applauded a sieg heil is ludicrous. side note, USA-only politics i know, but the whole freaking media circuit and the former VP tried to act like they had just noticed that biden was mentally impaired after his incomprehensible debate with trump went viral, when conservatives had been pointing it out for years. i didn't see progressive leftist-twitter going nuts and quoting 1984 over that.

i'm done spending my time on this fiasco. from a cursory at your blog and replies, we are so different we will never agree on a single point. you would consider me a "christofascist" i guarantee it. case in point: i first read "AFD" as "ADF" looked up the "Alliance Defending Freedom" and went "well, i gotta say; at first glance they seem pretty alright to me

make of that what you will ig

USA... Elon Musk just did the sieg heil (nazi salut to Hitler)

[schlattslonghairytoes]

schlatt calling you mama out of the blue because ted told him it would work to get you flustered but you both end up laughing and schlatt gets so embarrassed

hey mamas

you were sprawled out across schlatts couch, watching the basement yard. you had already made breakfast, fed jambo and garlic bread

and now you just had to wait for you fuckass boss to wake up, i guess you guys had just given up on punctuality at this point

its no like he had a whole lot to do today, but your job was to get here at the same time every day, and make sure he finished his checklist

if its one task, or a record number of twenty-two

you were so focused in on your video that you didnt even hear the door click open

"whats your favorite poptar-"

"good mornin' mama" schlatt interupted your video

"alright, pack it up beast boy" you laugh at your own stupid joke as he sits next to you on the couch

"does that make you raven" he raises a brow and mews

"can we chill with the rizz its too early for this" you two spoke like this all the time, so you assumed the mama bit was over

holy shit were you wrong

as if it were clockwork, he managed to call you some variation of mama, six times in two hours

and listen you werent necessarily complaining, but like, it was getting weird

"can you hand that to me mama?" he asked while he was editing his newest video

you grabbed his gamersupps and passed it to him, again trying to ignore his little "mama" kick.

you were sat on the bed in his filming and editing room on your phone, all you had to do today is make sure he finished this one video he was putting off

"ok, i jus' have to ask, where did this mama bit come from, not complaining jus' curious." you lent over the bed to look at him, his face now significantly red.

"i dont know" he said quietly, pretending to be locked in on editing when you could see him clicking the same clip over and over

"c'mon, usually your go-to's are toots, or doll, and the occasional broad. why the switch?" you said, squinting your eyes at him

"does it really matter?"

"yes."

"ughhhhh" he leaned back in his chair and looked at you, his face still tomato colored

"im waiting c'monnnn" you giggled

"tedtoldmethatificalledyouthatyouwouldreallylikeit" he spat out

"jay do you think i even heard what you said?" you laughed as he finally turned his seat around and sighed

"i was talking to ted and he told me that you used to love being called that as a stupid petname and i dont know i just thought i should start calling you that i guess. im sorry" he said awkwardly

"hey dont be emmbarrased, ted was right, i love that nickname, just mix it up sometimes alright, your spamming it but an occasional one is great."

he looked up at you through his long lashes

"alright mama."

and for the ninth time today, you swear you felt butterflies again.

hi just a short lowkey ass post so i can try and get bakc on my writing grind

[chiasaaa]

—i’ll be your model

itoshi sae x f! reader

summary: dating a fashion designer has its pros and cons the same way dating a famous football player has its own. however, sae realized that you haven’t used one particular pro yet in your three years of dating.

warning: english is not my first language. apologies for any grammatical or spelling errors.

— itoshi sae is the kind of man whom his lover could describe as selfless. contrary to popular opinion, getting to know sae proves that point pretty well. sae will always come to your beck and call. he will provide you things you both need and want without you having to ask. he will most definitely drop whatever it could be he’s doing if it meant tending to your requests.

it already nearly happened one time when you called thirty minutes before an important match, telling him that you need to go to your gynecologist for your yearly check-up. it wasn’t anything serious, but he meant every fibre of his being when he said he’s going to drive all the way back just to accompany you.

if it weren’t for you threatening to lock the doors of your home from him, he would have ditched the game altogether and leave billions of fans disappointed along with his team. it was a good thing he ended up with someone like you.

someday, the whole world will thank you for it.

call him a lovesick fool, but itoshi sae will always and forever be hopelessly in love with you. he doesn’t mind if you want to go to greece in three hours; he’d already booked the earliest flight there. it indeed happened when you both sat in your living room one valentine’s day and you joked about making spontaneous plans like flying out to greece just to have a moonlit dinner with the temple of artemis in view. sae hadn’t known you were joking because he fished his phone out quick to do whatever it is you kept blabbering on.

candlelit dinner? check.

romantic violin music? check.

private villa overlooking a beautiful view? check.

economy tickets? he booked first-class.

and of course, he had long prepared his gift and your five-flower bouquet. you weren’t one for big bouquets as you loved preserving them in frames, and so you requested that if he were to give you such, he will have to make do with only five main flowers.

doesn’t mean he can stop putting blind boxes in them, though. you’re quite the menace when it comes to it.

sae had continuously provided you all your wants and needs, yet the one thing he finally realized is that you never asked for any of it.

much like today, as you’re earnestly looking through portfolios of famous celebrities who proposed to be your brand’s model. you did think that it’s about time for you to expand your model pool (you’re in it for the money) and you searched high and low for the perfect person to adorn your new creations.

specifically, the men’s product line.

sae picks up one of the photos you have scattered on the countertop, realizing that it was none other than isagi yoichi.

“athletes are part of your options?” he asks, turning the page to you. you didn’t even bother looking up as you responded back.

“yep, i’m looking through other athletes i can reach out to as an endorser.”

weird. isn’t he an athlete?

why didn’t you ask him first?

sae sets his teacup down its designated saucer, breathing in and out shortly to prepare himself for yet another confrontation. he’s still in the process of being more honest with you, when it comes to how he feels about certain things happening within your relationship. sae always tries his very best for you, and that includes biting back his usually sharp tongue because he knows how sensitive you can get.

“i assume you have strict requirements in finding one?”

“not really. i just need to look for someone who i can say is the one for the job,” you finally look up, smiling tiredly, “the same way i saw it when i looked at you.”

he must be dying early because the way you said it might as well make him combust. his heart pounded against his rib violently, wondering what you meant behind such words.

you knew he had fallen in love with you since you kicked a ball straight to his head (accidentally), but when was this time you’ve known he’s the one with a simple gaze?

as heart-fluttering as it is to think about, it’s not the current matter at hand. he couldn’t help but frown a little at the realization that he wasn’t the first person you thought of when you wanted to have a celebrity model your work.

he’s pretty famous, isn’t he?

not only that, you have always been so vocal about how he’s so handsome that the model industry’s lucky he chose to play football as his career path. that has to account for something, right?

as a fashion designer, you have one of the most keen eyes when it comes to potential models.

you’ve seen it in him.

“what do you mean by that?”

“exactly as it means, querido.” you hum, already back to work. you take a pencil from the counter and used it to tie your hair effortlessly, a few strands falling to frame your beautiful face. if it wasn’t for the fact that this is a big deal to him, sae would have long been hypnotized by your beauty.

“why don’t you use me, then?” he said it in a way that showed how upset he actually is about the situation. you couldn’t have possible missed that, and you really didn’t. you look up from your work, hiking your specs right up your nose with the joint of your finger.

“what do you mean?”

“exactly as it means, hermosa.”

you snort. of course, sae used your own words against you. though, you couldn’t say that you didn’t expect that from him. sae is too selfless for his own good, and as his partner, you’re not about to let him sabotage himself with this ridiculous adventure of over-generosity. you didn’t even know it was a thing until you met him.

as much as you loved that he will sacrifice anything and everything for the people he cares for, you must admit that it bothers you a little. that is why you took control of what you can and avoided his involvement as much as possible.

“i can’t possibly do that to you.” was your response after a short while, propping an elbow on the granite to rest your chin upon the palm of your hand. you twist the stool you’re sitting on to face him, taking his hand with your free one. “i’m not about to use you for my own benefit, querido. i didn’t date you just to have your face on my brand and milk you.”

“but you’re not,” sae raises your locked hands, planting a gentle kiss on the back of your palm. “i want to do this for you. honestly, i’m a little upset that i wasn’t the first person you thought of.”

you chuckle. “didn’t you hear me earlier? i said i’m looking for someone who will make me think ‘he’s the one!’ the same way you made me think that.”

the confusion soon replaced by embarrassment in the form of tinted cheeks and reddening ear tips had you pause for a little.

“did you take that in the romantic context?” giggling, you lean closer to him and ruffled his hair. “you’re my blueprint right now as i searched through these files. i was looking for someone like you.”

then, as if there’s a sudden change in the wind, sae regained his confidence and fired back at you.

“there’s no one else like me.” he takes your chin between his fingers. “so use me, hermosa.”

and you gave in the same way you allowed him to kiss you long and deep, telling you in every way possible that he loves you even after the universe collapses.

itoshi sae is a selfless man, yet you didn’t know that he’s only ever like that when it comes to you.

it didn’t matter if it was spontaneous trips, ditching big games, or standing in front of the camera for you.

whatever it is, as long as it’s you, then he will do everything in his power to make it come true.

[muddyorbsblr]

my whole life in a moment

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: pre-dating era; years before the events of 'one look and they'll know'

Summary: Your boyfriend presented you with a challenge to "walk a mile in his shoes"…imagining what life would be like if you weren't in a relationship with him

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader (but not quite yet); OC x Reader (toxic…and soon to be ex)

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning/s: toxic boyfriend with more than questionable loyalty; condescending side characters (hissss); language [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: Reader in her sad era

It doesn't mean anything, everyone does it, your boyfriend's words tauntingly echoed in your mind. Right before you two had gone on to attend separate conventions for work, yours in Anaheim, and his somewhere closer to Big Bear, you'd caught a glimpse of his phone, seeing all the pictures of half-naked influencers in the making that he was liking and commenting on like his life depended on it.

And somehow it was your fault that you found out about how he moved around online, "because if you trusted him, you wouldn't even have reason to look". Even if he was the one who just left his phone face up and unlocked for anyone to see.

Joshua even made it seem like you were the "weird one" for admitting that you never have and you never would do that. You would never imagine what life was like with someone else because you were already in a relationship. Loyalty meant something to you, and his actions were borderline maliciously blurring the lines to the point that you had this sinking feeling in your gut.

That one day he'd blur the line so much that he would feign innocence even if he was caught with his whole three and a half inches inside someone else.

Shouldn't the only thing that matters be the fact that no matter what happens, we come home to each other? His words practically had you seething. Of course not. What mattered was that even if you were far apart, you could still manage to feel secure enough in the relationship that he would never do anything that might betray your trust.

He presented you with a challenge for this weekend, to try it out, even if just to yourself. You didn't have to talk to anyone, like anyone's posts, you just had to imagine. To just meet eyes with a random stranger and imagine what life with them would be like, how the story would play out.

To walk a mile in his shoes, he said. Which bothered you more than you cared to admit. How many lives did he already envision with other people? How many times did he look at some random stranger, or God help you, someone you already knew, and fantasized about how life would be if he were with her instead of you?

"Iced americano for Y/N!" the barista called from the counter. You had to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the way he shamelessly checked you out. "Pretty girl like you, you're probably here for the Marvel thing upstairs? Let me guess, you got the hots for a certain blond super soldier? Or maybe a blond god?"

You gave him a tight-lipped smile…or maybe it was a grimace. "Yeah no…I'm actually here for the convention next to theirs."

Joshua's challenge began to rear its ugly head in your mind again, almost daring you to assess the leering man and what life would be like if you entertained his cheesy quips. Of course, all those thoughts were shot down immediately after he opened his mouth a second time, snorting before letting out a condescending laugh.

"The stuffy nerd assembly? What, you got a thing for rickety old men with pocket protectors talking about loop-the-loops and conditioners?"

Wouldn't even get past the first date. I'll happily waste a glass of Balkan and pour it on his pants and light the fucker on fire. But then of course I'd get arrested, probably assault, possibly attempted murder. Not worth it, you thought to yourself. Damn I hate this game already.

You gave him an equally condescending smile, shifting your stance to one you were much too familiar with, having to stand up straight and square your shoulders so that the men with over-inflated egos would actually shut up and listen to what you had to say. "I'm guessing you were a jock in high school…a popular one. Maybe even Prom King. Best four years of your life?"

His smile immediately dropped, looking like you injected pure ice into his veins. Good. "H--How--?"

"You're too easy to read," you said dismissively. "For the record, it's loops and conditions. If you're gonna make fun of an entire profession, at least get the words right so you don't look too much like an idiot when words come out of your mouth. And also, I'm one of the stuffy rickety old bats presenting in the 'nerd assembly'. Have a day."

You walked away from the coffee kiosk shaking your head in disbelief. You couldn't fathom how visibly unremarkable people found the sheer audacity to pass judgment the way they did. Especially to people who worked in the very industry that was steadily taking over the world.

The very websites these people used to poke fun at people they deemed lesser to them were quite literally built by the nerds they were talking down about. With the way the world was advancing, it wouldn't be long before scams started popping up left and right that would drain people like Mr Glory Days back there of every cent of his life savings.

Hell, with the skills you had, it would just be a few keystrokes away.

You decided against playing the challenge on passing strangers, considering that the glimpses that you were getting from your two to five second eye contact with them already unsettled you.

Two dates maximum, then he'd lock eyes with someone prettier and way out of his league and stop replying to texts. Not worth it.

Clingy, mama's boy that probably wants me to quit my job and my career and all my hobbies so my life revolves around morphing into some sexualized version of his mother. Definitely not worth it.

Would beg me not even six weeks into dating to try anal, and leave me on Week 7 for his male best friend. Week 8 if I peg him. For sure not fucking worth it.

All of them led to you internally yelling "absolutely not" in the solace of your mind, and ultimately opting out of the game altogether. It was steadily turning you into a cynic, and that was the last thing you needed to be considering how you chose to spend your free time.

If you kept at this path, the next time some random actor or musician or public figure reached out to you in the dark recesses of the internet begging you to keep their debauchery secret and protect them from the scrutiny of the public eye, you might just choose to leak it yourself. That particular part of your life needed you to hold on to compassion. Needed you to remember that just because some people chose to be extra freaky behind closed doors, it didn't necessarily make them deserving of being exposed.

The only time you needed to step in was when they were actively doing harm.

So instead of the strangers passing you by, you turned the challenge on its head, in Joshua's direction. With what you knew about him, how would your life play out?

You had just moved in with him last month, although most of your belongings still remained packed in boxes because he couldn't find space in "his place" yet for some of your "girly shit". He set aside about half of one of his dresser drawers for your clothes and your instincts told you it was wise to keep a police baton there for easy access.

Just in case he'd come home a little too drunk, a little too disorderly, and a little too wishy washy on consent.

The near incendiary conversation that you two had just before you parted ways on your separate conventions served as the largest red flag that you weren't in the right place. It wasn't just the likes and the comments to the bikini-clad women, it was the text message notification that popped up before he could swipe the phone off the desk and guilt trip you into apologizing for "snooping".

It was from Tracy, one of your coworkers that was assigned to the same convention as him. I can't wait to see you later! x

Seemed innocent enough, if you hadn't known for a fact that she'd been putting the moves on him for the last few months. If you hadn't glanced upon his desk at just the right second while they were talking and you saw her hand on his leg.

His words played back in your mind again. Shouldn't the only thing that matters be the fact that no matter what happens, we come home to each other? If that was his mentality, then perhaps you had every reason to be suspicious about the times when he wasn't home.

And right in those thirty seconds that you placed your relationship under that big of a microscope, the conclusion made itself crystal clear. "I have to leave him. He's gonna betray me and I have to leave him," you said with a defeated sigh.

At least I haven't unpacked yet, you quipped at yourself. You decided to go into the large function room that was booked for your event, carving out a few minutes to make sure that your resume was in order. That was the next logical step, leaving the company. Working with him wasn't going to be an option; you knew he would twist everything to make it seem like you were belligerent and someway somehow the downfall of your relationship fell squarely on your shoulders.

And people would believe him. Why wouldn't they? He put in insurmountable amounts of effort -- not to mention money -- to shower everyone in praises and gifts and free coffees to make sure they remembered him when promotion season rolled around. He was the self-proclaimed king of small talk, and you preferred silence over menial conversation.

Of course you would have to leave the company, too. Your self-respect all but demanded it.

You pulled out your little flashcards once you finished your coffee, mentally going over your points and anticipating any jabs from Nick that might throw you off. He was the unfortunate soul that was assigned with you, and he seemed hellbent on making sure you "knew your place" being one of the younger developers on the team.

As if it was age that had anything to do with experience.

It was in having your head buried nose-deep in the cards that had you violently bumping into someone walking straight into you, knocking the cards out of your hand and nearly making you fall off balance.

"I'm sorry I wasn't looking--" you sputtered, already moving to pick up your cards.

You didn't expect for the other person to crouch down with you and lend a helping hand. "Neither was I, luv, I apologize."

Good God, what a voice, your inner whore was practically moaning in your head. That voice turned into an all out scream when you looked up and realized who you bumped into. No one could scroll on any website the last few months without his face popping up on the page at least three times in five minutes.

The knowledge that the actor actually dyed his fucking hair and now the sharp angles of his face were even more prominent being framed by the onyx curls nearly took you out. And then he looked at you, stormy blue eyes widening just the slightest as he took your own features in and you could hear his breath hitch.

"I'm terribly sorry," he said again, offering his hand to you once he stood to his feet.

Once you placed your hand in his, you could feel sparks spreading up your arm, and then quickly through the rest of your body. You couldn't help but keep his gaze with how there was this tenderness in his eyes, only breaking when he looked down to place your cards back in your hand.

"You're speaking in the convention next door, I see?"

"I uhh…" Dammit Y/N, pick your panties off the floor and use your big girl voice, you're embarrassing yourself. "I am," you told him. You couldn't fight the urge to smile, even if part of you was still bracing yourself for a reaction similar to Mr Glory Days earlier.

"Fascinating, perhaps if there are still some available seats I could stop by."

Your eyes nearly bugged out your head. "Really?" you blurted out. "You don't think they're boring and stuffy?"

He didn't miss a beat in telling you, "Not when they're facilitated by interesting people. It's always rather enlightening to get to see intelligent people in their element." He placed his hand over yours, holding them for just a moment before stepping away, as if he had to break himself out of his own thoughts. "Well erm…best of luck with your speech."

Play the game, your inner whore taunted you. Come on, it's the hot actor from Avengers, play the fucking game. You're never gonna cross paths with him again.

"You, too. Good luck, I mean. I mean you'll do great, of course you will, y'all have so much training for this--" You bit your tongue, taking a deep breath before speaking again. "I mean, thank you."

Come on, Hiddles, your pessimistic side reared its ugly head. Give me a red flag, I can't be swooning over you and your stupidly pretty face, seriously what the fuck that face with that voice shouldn't be legal.

A moment passed, and another, before his eyes flickered for a fraction of a second to your lips. But never lower. He took another step back once he broke eye contact, letting out a nervous chuckle. "I'm Tom, by the way."

"I know." The words burst out of you like you had zero filter left between your brain and your mouth. "I mean, I'm--"

"Dammit, Y/L/N, now how did I know you're dawdling about out here trying to score with an actor?" The shrill sound of Nick's ornery voice broke the moment. "Your generation really doesn't know the first damn thing about being a professional, huh."

You took a breath, clutching your cards to refrain from reaching in your bag and giving in to an intrusive thought of stabbing your coworker with a dull pencil. When you looked back at Tom, he was slowly taking a few steps backwards, pointing to the much larger hall room of the convention center. "I'm this way."

"That way," you shot back, jabbing your thumb in the opposite direction. You'd given each other an awkward wave goodbye before you finally turned and walked toward the comparatively quieter room.

Play the game, that whorish inner voice pleaded. You know you want to.

The images you allowed yourself to indulge in painted a decadent future. Picturesque date nights balanced with perfectly blissful quiet nights in. Constantly checking in on you when you were in social gatherings to make sure you were still doing alright. Goodnight and good morning and "just because" calls throughout the days, especially when you were apart.

And sweet mercy, the sex would have probably been something out of the filthiest books you'd ever read. You knew what stories about him were floating around in the forums. No stone unturned, no corner unchristened.

And he sure as shit would be packing more than three and a half inches, the voice finished off. Conclusion? Absolutely would have been fucking worth it. Now look back and see if you can check out his butt.

You decided to indulge the voice one last time, looking over your shoulder to see if you could still make him out among the crowd. And when you found him, your heart jumped straight to your throat, rendering you speechless.

Because he was looking back at you, too.

A/N: Who's gonna tell these flirty babies that they reunite again in a few years and get married? 🥹👀 Also I've been thinking on what Reader's backstory before crossing paths again with Tom at the set of Ragnarok would be, and so some of the bits that I'll write for the series will be Reader-centric, kind of building on her character and touching on the ways she was constantly going "Yeah no way I get with someone like him" only to end up with Tom at the end of her sad meow meow era 💖

Also…Tom's basically the only male character in here that I didn't want to pummel with a baseball bat, and I can confirm that I have had "men" in my life that treated me the way Joshua treats Reader, scoffed at me the way Mr Glory Days barista did, and belittle me the way Nick the coworker did. It's been a rough 8 years 🤪

Ooh, also this is the song that inspired this story:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th  @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie

@superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @dryyoursaltyoceantears @herdetectivetheorist @alexakeyloveloki @lulubelle814 @jaidenhawke

[olderthannetfic]

another round of "smut in my native language is so bad" bs coming from Europeans (im saying Europeans bc they're by far the largest section that complains about this openly. I'm sure Latin Americans and Asians have similar takes wrt their languages but they're not as loud about it) and I came across this gem, and I paraphrase: "I cant even imagine having sex with someone from my country because I'd have to listen to their dirty talk, that's why I only fuck foreigners who speak English"

... what?

every single of these stupid posts - esp if they come from monolingual EFL speakers - about mocking languages - be they Germanic, Slavic, Romance, or Celtic - is just in such bad taste to me, and the reason as to why this hits European languages primarily is pretty much the same as every single food discourse of people (primarily Americans, be they white or not!) making fun of traditional European dishes - because they cant say the same thing about "strange" Asian or African dishes without being correctly called out as xenophobic racists and/or they simply have none of that on their radar (as we all know, everyone online is American, and if they're not American, they're European. If you're not American or European, you're a spy, and if you're not a spy either, you don't exist bc these other countries speak neither english nor do they have internet, phones or free time)

if you're already giggling about how strange and unerotic (? lol) French, German, Polish or whatever sound, I dont even wanna know what you think about the sexiness potential of a language where you cant even read the script but won't be saying that because This will be the straw that breaks the camel's back

but getting off my little soapbox and pivoting back to the paraphrased quote:

when this comes from smug EFL speakers, im annoyed and they can catch some blocks, but ESL speakers joining in on this? oh boy, you are unspeakably... sad to me? i genuinely dont know how you are living and talking to people on a daily basis in that native language you hate so much, but then again, at royal courts, French used to be in so everyone learned it. but the specific of only ever being intimate with foreigners BECAUSE of them not speaking your language... this is just so fucking weird to me in a way i can't put my finger on. it feels so deeply insecure in yourself and while i guess this person is free to do whatever they like and fuck whoever they want to... 🫥. i guess

maybe im the asshole for trying to psychoanalyse that person but the general attitude, be it specific about smut or some "hihi haha, naeeee, imäginé spèåking likë thåt" bullshit, just needs to be carried into its grave already (as does the food discourse, for that matter)

--

English wasn't good for writing things down... until it was. I know it's hard to be the trail blazer who goes "Actually, our vernacular is awesome!", but I wish more people would try.

(Side note: Are we using EFL and ESL the same way? EFL = English as a Foreign Language, and is a term for teaching English in a non-English majority context. ESL = English as a Second Language and is used more to talk about teaching English to immigrants to the US or another English-speaking place. I think some places also just use EFL where I'd use ESL.)

[a-whispering-echo]

muuuah, random thoughs + may add to later -

DUST

wcribbles psychological or chemical theories on napkins, receipts, or any scrap of paper he can find

sleeps w/white noise machine + loves rain sounds in particular - 'only way my brain shuts up'

scarf always clean, despite literally everything else being a HUGE mess all the time

drinks fucking ABSURDLY strong coffee and claims its 'basically just water'

Dusts likes blowing shit up :) 'whyd you take chemistry Dust?' oh you know DAMN well why

guess how he found put hes schizophrenic...

says his scarf if from 'his favourite hallucination'... no one knows how to take that...

hoards random shit for 'projects' and never fucking uses them

pen clicker :) Cross fucking HATES him for that

vending machines ALWAYS work for him??? for some reason??

CROSS

carries a sketchbook everywhere - when people ask to see it he gets all shy and flustered, and tells them 'its not done yet'

hoards random art supplies obsessively, even though he barely ever uses them, much preferring his usual, well loved tools

biro artist

Gen tries to help people by giving unwarranted advice, but doesnt realise hes coming off as a dickhead. he just wants to help :(

volunteers at an animal shelter on the weekends - comes back smelling of dog

HORROR

likes making 'mini' foods - tiny cakes, pies, ect - looks funny next to his fucking HUGE hands

ALWAYS call his family every sunday

memory issues and dexterity issues, and has problems following recipes, but when told to wing something, does BRILLIANTLY

dog-eared recipe books from charity shops (second hand stores)

hums when cooking. <3 hums BADLY while cooking <3

NAMES his food for some reason??? like, human names - "oh, the muffins? yeah, thats Aliza!" - as if thats not terrifying

laughs at his own jokes

NIGHTMARE

only drinks black coffee or dark tea - 'sugar is a distraction for the frivolous' - secretly loves sweets

always in the right place at the right time???

calligraphy <3

make weird historical references in his jokes?? no one fucking gets them??

antique shops <3

supposedly has a cat names Atticus - no one has ever SEEN Atticus, other that in VERY grainy photos... people do wonder if Atticus ACTUALLY exists..

KILLER

FAR smarter than he lets on - plays the fool so you lower your guard/ dont see him as a threat, and then BAM he has your full name and address, your credit card info, and when your place will be empty :)

weirdly good at origami?? he folds little things in class - contrary to popular belief, thats a sigh he actually IS listening

misdirects in conversations + slides in fake facts for shits and giggles. tries those behaviour tricks you see online - like how if you hand someone an orange while theyre speaking, theyll just start peeling it, or if you ask someone for the time after they check their phone/watch, theyll check again for you even though they just saw it.

picks locks

swipes peoples hats/scarfs of them for shits and giggles - nicked Dusts scarf one day and almost saw god

WHERE DID THAT KNIFE COME FROM HOLY SHIT

gum dealer

nicknames <3 - Vlad for Noot, Sarge for Cross, Horrors coockie monster, ect

burner phones and accounts....

-

Cross + Horror ver their appearances and the things/subjects they take - big guys, 'soft' studies

Killer is gen a bit scared of Cross.

Cross military clean bedroom vs Dusts chaos tornado next door <3 - 'Dust, pick up your sock!' 'nah'

Dust taste testing Horrors food <3

Cross and Dusts late night instant noodle and depression hours talk

"Dust, binder'" "u first" "....fuck you."

Dusts crush is GLARINGLY obvious to everyone but Horror...

anyway, blah blah uni au les gooo

Dust is psych major and chemistry minor - never fucking shows up apart from exams, always aces them somehow??? hes missing his lower leg below his left knee cus i said so - always shows up in pjs

Cross is older, and gets free uni cus of military past - spoke about this with some folks in the comments, pretty sure im putting him in art for now - i think its funny to have 'big gruff military man' in the fun drawing class thats seen as 'lesser' by people - (obviously not my own opinion, as i AM an asrtist, but yk, people see it as less that ) hes had bad encounters before when he tells people and it makes hm sad :(

Horror in culinary arts! he got in on a free scholarship, full ride!, for his talent! he got into baking because he wants to own his own bakery, so he can bring some money back to his large and suffering family!

Nightmares whos in his 40s and has just been getting qualification after qualification - rumour has it hes a vampire lol - hes in Law rn. he becomes the groups unofficial leader after Killer keeps clinging to him after seeing him in a seminar before

Killers in criminology and has a extra mandatory glass in Law too! hes definitely not in criminology for any NEFARIOUS reasons; he just has dreams of being a... detective, of course... (no one fucking believes that but shh, hes a good person to know for.. information ehehehehe) - spotted Noot in the class and went 'hm yes, he looks fun to mess with' and then didnt leave him alone.

Killer knows Dust cus hes the guy who hooks him up with some, yk, good stuff... - Horror is the guy Dust has seen in the libary a few times and MAYBE has a BIT of a crush on him, shhh - while Cross and Dut are both in the same dorm, and THATS how they all know each other <3

(Cross and Dust are both trans masc btw cus i said so. are they t3t?... mayhaps?)

(feel free to give me more ideas, on these guys or possibly the stars if you like - or others! - i just dont care for the stars much, these boys are MY THING, but if anyone has ideas....)

[uty-confessions]

I DONT :( i can make a shortcut tho but it would suck ass. i have shortcuts for my simply plural jargon and tm and shit and they NEVER FUCKING WORK -cranon

:[

[uhcasual]

All illustrations for The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation: Russian Edition Exclusives, Volume 5

Finally got my hands on the russian истари/Istari publication volume 5 for Mo Dao Zu Shi, so here are high resolution scans of the art exclusive to this particular edition. The art here portrays events that occur in the post-storyline extras.

Full resolution available for download here (tumblr compresses images a little)

Illustration Artist: Marina Privalova (Baoshan Karo)

[Vol. 1] - [Vol. 2] - [Vol. 3] - [Vol. 4] - [Vol. 5] (part 1)

[fungi-maestro]

Happy tdov to fat trans people. 🏳️‍⚧️ Biggest thing that helped me as a trans kid was seeing older fat trans people. There were a lot of really irritating "advice" posts going around early in my time on the internet with a lot of misinformation in them, but one that I constantly saw (in addition to people claiming you should wear your pants rediculously low or only wear button ups) were posts saying you had to lose weight to transition. Can confidently confirm that is completely untrue. 👍

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[fuupan]

tol

[salmoninzeeweed]

I'm sorry but I absolutely fucking hate sheith (shiro x keith) like wtf NO...

Shiro knew keith since he was a CHILD, HE BASICALLY RAISED HIM, AND PEOPLE SHIP THEM??????

Keith literally called shiro his BROTHER, HE SEES SHIRO AS HIS BROTHER! CAN PEOPLE STOP BEING FUCKASS WEIRDOS AND STOP SHIPPING TWO PEOPLE WHO CANONICALLY AND VERY CLEARLY SEE EACH OTHER AS BROTHERS PLEASE???

All hate to sheith shippers I'm not even gonna sugar coat that, please stop writing and making art of them being "in love" idc if you think "oH bUT ThEir CheMistrY-" STFUUUUUUU STFU NO HELL NO

Anyway klance forever!!!

[lenle-g]

@idontknowreallywhy said: Jeff but where Jeff actually looks like he’s spent 8 years alone on a rock and my hand slipped also I got struck with the idea that it'd be cute to give his hair a little of John's cowlick when it's lost its styling

[bandtrees]

they would get divorced in one universe just to find eachother in another one

alternatively titled: sometimes you're the level-headed token flesh-head impulse-control-and-polycule-member of a stubborn, eccentric, and hearty telephone-headed drug addict, and there's cruelty in the world you deem fit to suicidally fight, and that either goes about as well as you'd expect it to, or you learn about love and the value of your life and junk along the way

[ratislatis]

I'll find you. Wait for me.

hee hee hoo hoo AUUUUGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH PAIN PAIN SUFFERING PAIN IN ALL DIRECTIONS!!!! TO HELL WITH IT (LITERALLY)!!!!!!!!!

[chimeride]