#you can see what they're listening to

[number-one-shadisper-shipper]

Sharing earbuds

[winteriron-trash]

rdj the (whitewashed) electric boogaloo

This is a reminder to everyone who's excited about RDJ's casting as Doctor Doom that this casting is whitewashing. Victor Von Doom is a Romani character and has been a Romani character since his introduction in the 1960s. (Fantastic Four Annual #2 [1964]) Not only that, but his Roma identity and the persecution he and his family faced due to it is integral to his character, it is what forms his identity. (Books of Doom by Ed Brubaker) Even if on the off chance this casting is meant to not be Victor but instead be some variant of Tony or whomever else becoming Doctor Doom, it is damaging to the character to rob him of that important cultural background. Doctor Doom does not exist without that history. Fans have been pushing hard to cast Doom as a Romani actor for years, especially since the MCU has whitewashed other Romani characters. (Wanda, Pietro, etc) This casting is not a celebration moment, it's fucking heartbreaking that the MCU repeatedly ignores the important and nuanced cultural backstories of characters.

I know I can't change anybody's mind on whether or not you want to be excited about RDJ's return to the MCU. But I do think at the very least you should be mad that the MCU is baiting us all and destroying nuanced and interesting characters for the sake of self-referential easter eggs and nostalgia bait. Because that's what it is. Feel how you'd like to feel about RDJ's return, but personally, this is soul-sucking. I had such a deep love for the MCU as a teenager, it was obviously something incredibly formative to me, especially Tony Stark. This isn't recreating what I fell in love with the MCU for. This is turning a well-planned and artistic storyline of adaptations into cheap cash grabs and fan service. Because, I think we're past the point of being able to call the MCU an adaptation of anything. They can use existing characters' names and powers, but to say they're being properly adapted is laughable.

This is not an adaptation of Doctor Doom. This is RDJ the Electric Boogaloo because Marvel's fear of losing the interest of dedicated MCU fans overrides their willingness to tell stories that are genuine to the characters. I don't know what there is to be excited about that. The MCU has lost its authenticity and aside from a few projects, feels heartless. Every movie is a copy of a copy. This announcement isn't something celebratory, it feels like a death knell of a cinematic universe that's so desperate to cling to relevancy it's resorting to nostalgia for a character/actor who hasn't even been dead for a decade. We're not getting anything new, we're just rinsing and repeating the same song and dance.

I get it. I love Tony Stark, his death destroyed me and I to this day, rue the ending he got in Endgame. It misunderstood his arc and it robbed him of a satisfying conclusion. But the solution to that isn't dragging the corpse out of the grave five years later to whitewash an existing character with rich and interesting nuance, just to forcibly tie his existence in the MCU to Tony. Whether he is a variant or not. Why would you want someone else's fave's legacy to be destroyed simply so your fave's legacy can go on? Hell, if we were really all so hellbent on the return of RDJ and/or Tony to the MCU, we have the multiverse for a reason. There were other ways to do it that didn't whitewash and ruin someone else. This just. Isn't something to be happy about.

[canisalbus]

Just a little line to say your dogs fill me with feelings! Your line art is divine. You make it all look so easy, and effortless. Like my logical brain knows this is false because I failed art, I cannot draw a stick figure to save my life, but your boys just look so NATURAL, I’m staring at them like “yeah. Easy peasy.”

.

[b0amagination]

Tastes of Whumptober: Day 11

I had an absolute blast with this prompt and I've been looking forward to it for a while. I should've gone and bought some wine so I could write being IDed from experience though. Unrealistic writing 😮😮😮

Convenience Store

Each item was set neatly on the conveyor belt.

A roll of duct tape. Kleenex. Air freshener. Trash bags. Zipties. Rubbing alcohol. Superglue. A bottle of merlot. Disinfectant. Sponges. Latex gloves. A wrist brace. Ibuprofen. A hammer. And a bar of chocolate.

A bright beep sounded as the cashier scanned each one.

“Doing some home improvement?” They smiled, placing the superglue onto the other side of the conveyor where one of their customers, the shorter of the two, was busy bagging with their head down. The other stacked the empty shopping basket with the others and pulled out their wallet.

“Definitely an improvement project,” they nodded back with a knowing look. “The whole thing just needs to be demolished and rebuilt at this point.”

“Oh I hear you. A pipe burst in my basement just last month and my spouse had to stop me from tearing the whole thing down then and there.” The cashier scanned the wine and paused. “Your ID please, Mx.?”

They flashed it with a toothy grin. 

“I’m flattered!”

“Just doing my job. Thank you.” They typed something into the system and picked up the next item. A few items later, a snort broke their calm demeanor.

“Hm?”

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry Mx! Just had a funny thought.” The cashier scanned the hammer. 

“Do share! Lord knows we could use the humor.” They elbowed their partner who smiled meekly and nodded along, balancing with a crutch under their arm. 

“Well, sometimes home improvement supplies look a lot like premeditated murder supplies,” they giggled, and the taller one broke out into raucous laughter. The shorter just shook their head. “Sorry, I meant no offense.”

Realizing they were being addressed, they fixed the sullen expression across their face.

“Ah, none taken! I’ve just had a tough day, what with this shithead and all.” A playful poke to their partner who just laughed again.

“You’re in for it when we get home!” They stuck out their tongue.

The other went back to catch the items they’d missed in that time, slipping the chocolate bar in their pocket. 

“Alright, cash or card?”

“Card please.”

“Your receipt?” 

“Sure, why not.”

“Perfect. Have a good one!” 

“You too!”

The taller one took most of the bags, but the other still managed to carry one. They were almost out the door when a voice shouted out.

“Oh! Excuse me, I think you forgot one of your items!” The cashier held up the hammer, and the couple turned around. Neither came forward to claim it, but with a nudge and a whisper, the shorter allowed the cashier to drop it into their bag. “Can’t do any demolition without that, can you?” 

“Absolutely not, I’m glad we didn’t forget it!” The other didn’t say a word, struggling to lift the bag now, and then the two were gone. 

.

“Interesting what you choose to forget, darling.” A hissing whisper in their ear, so different from the friendly persona they put on in public.

“I don’t… I don’t know what you’re implying,” they averted their eyes as the trunk of the car opened. Fuck. 

Their captor’s foot landed on their broken ankle and they had to suppress a scream.

“I let you have one good leg for today. Don’t let me regret it.” The bag was taken right out of their hand. “In.”

They crutched up to the passenger door but a clearing of the throat stopped them.

“Childlock doesn’t work on that seat.”

Somehow, climbing into the back was more humiliating after that comment. The door was slammed shut before they could do so themself, and they felt the car shake with how hard the trunk was slammed. A horrible indicator of what was to come.

“I behaved around the store,” they grumbled when the doors locked and the engine turned on. 

“And then you fuckin’ ruined it.” 

“Black and white thinking much…” 

A fist flew against the passenger headrest and they were suddenly grateful to be flinching in the backseat.

“I’m buying a car with blacked out windows. That way, next time, I can throttle you in the backseat.”

[ot3]

this flavor of trans guy misogyny where they do rhetorical backflips to explain why them not caring about women is good, actually, and since cis men are also misogynists a lot of the time we should all just stop complaining about it.

[explodingstarlight]

the emo trinity is alive, well, and prospering in 2023

[doom-dreaming]

okay i'm still very awake so you're all gonna have to deal with me red-stringing about character bullshit until i fall asleep. i Know i'm making a big post about this but i don't care

why. this is the first instance of mark being designated as the one in charge when a higher-up (fred, in this case) isn't present. but why. they were only trapped in the slipspace fuckeryzone for a few days relative to normal space-time and i don't think anything drastic happens (with these guys) in glasslands? at least according to the wiki it doesn't. why did being integrated into blue team suddenly disrupt team saber's former command structure?

did they plan to kill mark off at the very start of this? was this all a long game to give mark enough of a foothold as an Important Character to make his death have more impact? does troy denning just like him more? how much weight did his personal preferences even play in this? why do the gammas suddenly start bantering when they're in danger and alone with a woman they just met? why do mark and ash seem to switch personalities every other chapter? why is this worse than i remember it being when i first read it a few months ago?

[mewbius-supreme]

Disney: absolutely no gay!

Tom the executive producer of Loki to everyone: we're doing the gay. Idc because Loki and Mobius obviously have feelings for each other. I. FEEL. IT.

Tom to Owen:

Owen: say no more

Tom to Natalie: LOKIUS REAL

Natalie Holt: proceed to include Mobius as drum + guitar in the finale Loki theme. *Cue drums and guitar while "let time pass" echoes. Repeat mobius' melancholy melody and slowly build up to a darker Loki theme and also there's this new heroic tune that represents Loki's heart getting kintsuki by mobius' gold and their melody supports each others throughout the theme

[blujayonthewing]

[guy who lives in lowkey constant fear of being flanderized and infantalized and flattened and misunderstood and not taken seriously as an entire human person with complex thoughts and feelings in real life] yeah I dunno why I feel so strongly and get so defensive about Fantasy Racism and fantasy-race stereotyping it's just a really big sticking point for me for some mysterious reason

[chimerafflesia]

joker folie a deux out soon. will be mentally preparing for the "I want a relationship like harley and the joker" crowd to reemerge

[deoidesign]

I adore reading your rambling tags, don't stop posting things there 😩

Don't you worry. I think I might be incapable of stopping idk what happened I never used to tag ramble

[bayofwolves]

i've been thinking ab abeke x worthy for the last 12 hours... do y'all feel me. could i convince y'all to get on board this ship

[miodiodavinci]

(single loud AA) (the forest goes silent immediately after) (birdsong returns moments later)

[honestlyvan]

Let me be absolutely clear -- the problems with Tumblr will keep getting worse if the disabled minority and the trans people and the people frothing at the mouth at the opportunity to yell at a transphobe, keep @’ing staff and the developers on this site, tell them to kys, because in the meanwhile the transphobes and racists and white supremacists will keep using the actual tools Tumblr provides for blocking and reporting, further poisoning the datasets used for moderation, and encouraging the idea that using the official tools does nothing to basically ensure the only statistically meaningful data available to Automattic is poisoned, poisoned all the way down, poisoned beyond usability.

Hatespeech and bias needs to be reported for it to be considered statstically significant to act on from a developer point of view. Suicide baiting and spamming any of the official means of communication will get you eliminated as a spammer, even if you’re peppering legitimate criticism within your ventpost about how you hate the new thing. You are playing the TE/RFs game.

[wildflowercryptid]

something that's been weighing on my mind ever since learning about the situation with ezra / toonimal is seeing how these predators will take the active hostility that is frequently directed towards minors in online spaces to their advantage and use it to prey on vulnerable children. i think that we as adults in online fandom should probably come together and maybe rethink the language / manner we go about interacting with kids bc clearly the way things are rn is causing active harm.

like obviously, if you're an adult and aren't comfortable with minors interacting with you or your content, you should be allowed to set that boundary and should be vocal about it, ( especially if the content you create isn't safe for them to consume. ) but i don't think talking to them like they're a blight on all that is good and holy is the way to go about it. maybe just saying you're an 18 plus account will suffice, you don't have to tell them to fuck off.

[fishermcn]

"S-Sam. I don't know where you, where you intend to go tomorrow, but. Consider. Not going." Advice from above, judging by the charcoal on her claws and black blood dry around her nostrils and lips. "Um. Just. Yes."

@voidrevelation // company kept with a crooked crow and his broken voice.

It's scarcely been more than three days since they'd arrived under the cover of night, the port city bustling even in the late hours enough for a pair of wanderers to slip into the crowds without so much as a passing glance. Room and board is bought with a few coarse words and a handful of coppers, and for once it seemed as if rogue and seer could have a moment to gather themselves.

A fool he were, it seems. Sam doesn't respond immediately, though the sudden stiffness in his spine and the way his stained hands still for a moment make it plain he's heard her. Silence hangs between them for another minute or so, broken up only by the sharpening of his blades and the sharper implements of his trade, before he finally speaks.

"Tell ya something." His rasp is a quiet thing, a secret shared between them as robbers three in the dark-- the crow, the voice, and the ones who speak through her always listening. That shark-tooth blade of his gleams with each pass of the whetstone, and in the dim lantern light of their shared lodgings it briefly illuminates the weary lines of his expression. Resignation, acceptance, and the embers of a rage long-fed flicker across his grey eyes as he finally meets Bernita's gaze. "They'll come. Day, night, morning. Swim in m'dreams, hold me 'neath the water. Tell me She wants me." Unbidden, a bitter chuckle claws free from his throat, joined quickly by several mode. His laughter is a jagged, hoarse thing that rattles through his ribcage and stirs another round of coughing that has him leaning into her slim shoulder if only a moment.

He wipes his mouth into a ragged sleeve and chokes out another cough, and Sam's eyes are dark things not for the bags under them but for the things they've seen beneath the waters of his unconsciousness. "All I've got is here." Sooty fingers tap his forehead rapidly, once, twice, thrice. "Know them. How they think. How they want. Have to trap'm. Plan ahead. Kill'm 'fore they kill me."

A hand runs through the ragged mop and mess of his blonde hair, only serving to further muss it up. It runs through it twice more before his hands cease their shaking. "Won't let'm keep me scurrying when I'm awake too. Can't take back m'dreams. But the day is mine."

He grits his teeth, setting his jaw against another round of coughing, before putting the blade aside in favor of grabbing the nearest rag. There's still water left in the bucket beside the bed, lukewarm at best from where it'd been drawn for a bath, and Sam soaks it and wrings it out properly before turning back to Bernita. "Hold still." Carefully his stained hand holds her face before working the rag against the drying blood, short and firm but gentle passes enough to remove the remnants of her sightseeing into tomorrow. He does the same for her hand and claws once her expression is clear, and the rag is no doubt well and truly soiled after the charcoal has seeped into it alongside the blood. "There. Better, I reckon."

Sam tosses the rag carelessly but doesn't release her hand. Rather, he reaches out and takes her claw as well and squeezes them both gently with a long, hollow sigh before meeting her mismatched gaze again.

"Gonna be all right, I am." There's a menagerie of different thoughts and feelings running rampant in those flinty eyes, but they settle briefly on gratitude and affection even as a smirk cracks the stone-serious of his face. "Got someone in my corner now, after all."