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just-fandomthings · 1 month
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Conversation with a Native Son: Maya Angelou and James Baldwin
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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I have to tell you about the Abuela on my street.
She is nearly 70 years old, with wonderfully brown gnarled, wrinkled hands and eyes that are creased from smiling. She hand-makes all of her own clothes and sews dolls for my little sister. Abuela is very lonely… her husband already passed and her kids live far away. She misses her grandkids. Abuela comes around our place for the company almost every other day.
So this morning, my little sister and I went to visit the Abuela to return the kindness of her vegetables with some homemade soup.
It’s a funny joke we have, that if you can make a perfect posole you are wife material. I was joking around with my friend beforehand to see if I was worthy of marriage, and my little sister thinks me failing is the best thing in life, so of course she wants to ask Abuela when we arrive.
We’re wearing masks and gloves and can’t give her the big hug like we want to, but Abuela is always happy to see us. We bring the pot of soup to her table. My little sis, the little shit that she is, immediately asks, “Abuela, is Reina ready to be a wife yet?”
And Abuela immediately shifts her entire mood. Her face literally becomes this:
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Abuela’s look pierces through my heart.
“Who are you trying to impress? A man or a woman?” she asks, deadly serious. We have broached the topic of marriage. It is her domain now.
And I, Rei, gay as the fourth of July, cannot believe that either Abuela clocked me instantly or that she could possibly have a fascinating past of her own. 
I thought about lying, but my little sister was there and I don’t like to lie in front of her. So I was honest and said I was trying to impress a woman.
Without a response, Abuela carefully tries the posole. The room is silent.
“For a man, it’s good,” she says after a moment. “But, you’ll need to work harder to impress a woman.”
All I can do is politely nod. I have so many questions.
Now Abuela is tired. She wants to eat and relax in peace, so she waves us away. We make sure she’s settled, and then my sister and I go home.
I can’t believe my 70 year old Abuela said BI RIGHTS
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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(bangs fist on table) i want him sweaty, whimpering, overstimulated, moaning, sniffling, twitching, squirming, whining, gasping, bucking his hips, drooling, begging (swipes papers onto the floor)
NOW
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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Romanticizing reading fanfiction with 100 hits. Romanticizing commenting on fics from seven years ago. Romanticizing giving kudos to a fic with three hits. Romanticizing reblogging someone’s fanfiction post from two years ago, giving them the first note on that post. Romanticizing saying in the comments “I hope there’s a chapter two, this was so good!” On a fic posted in 2013
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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only murders in the building is honestly like The fun little show. it’s so weird and so unlike anything else. the odd trio casting of two incredibly famous comedians in their 70s with Selena Gomez. the main plot revolving around true crime podcasts. the level of complete contrivance and silliness necessary for the entire plot’s existence. certain disability representation i haven’t seen anywhere else on TV. surprise bisexuality. the mystery-comedy-??? genre mix. Jane Lynch as a lesbian lookalike of Steve Martin. the most insane celebrity cameos so sudden and jarring that you get jumpscared at least four times every season. Nice, Hot Vegetables.
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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I know what I want. I know what kind of god I need to be... for you. For all of us.
LOKI | 2.06 ‘Glorious Purpose’
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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one thing i need to start living by is “become the thing that you want” if i want friends who throw themed parties maybe i should start throwing those parties. if i want someone who writes me love letters maybe i should start writing letters for the people i love. if i want to hang out at museums and pretty cafes maybe i should invite my friends to these places. and maybe even then i won’t find the kind of people i want to be around. but then i would have become the exact person i want to be around. and maybe that’s good enough.
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just-fandomthings · 4 months
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Avengers: Infinity War (2018)
LOKI serie 2021-2023
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just-fandomthings · 5 months
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@sylvies-chen
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#they scrunch their nose the same way when they laugh 🥺
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just-fandomthings · 5 months
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#His love language is acts of service
Bonus:
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just-fandomthings · 5 months
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The Möbius Strip
A post-finale drabble because I’m in my feels and accidentally wrote myself further downward into my spiral so fair warning this is rough anyways enjoy x
••••••••
Things, as they have always seemed to do, grow further away from him now.
In this sense, Loki supposes not much has changed for him. He forgot for a moment, he thinks. Forgot how inescapable isolation was. Admitting to your fear of being alone is a sad, sad thing, especially when it does nothing to change the possibility of ending up alone anyway.
There was a time where being lonely, for him, was a result of being incompatible. He felt out of touch with the world, felt as though he were in a space he wasn’t supposed to inhabit. He was oil in water: resisted at the chemical level. And Thor tried his best, really. Loki spent a lot of years being painstakingly angry with his brother for not doing enough, but he did what he could. His father, he’s still unsure of. Asguard, he can’t say. But Thor did his best. Maybe it was just doomed from the start.
Now, on the other hand, his anger is gone. Much still burdens him, but unlike the rest of his life, it is a loneliness he can bear. Rotten, really. The loneliness is still so rotten. But he chose this rotten work. He chose it out of love.
Time is his purpose, both glorious and burdensome. But love is his reason, and there is no sense in purpose without a reason for fulfilling it.
So yes, in a way he likes what he’s doing now. He gets to witness all of time and life in the grasp of his hand, branching out and filling a cosmic expanse. Life courses and weaves itself around the crevices of his knuckles, and it’s heavy, Gods is it heavy, but it’s safe. They’re safe.
Still, it comes forth from him, not with him. He’s frozen, keeping a firm grasp on timelines which stretch into an abyss beyond his sight. As things branch out, they branch away.
All but one.
There’s a timeline which keeps getting out of line. Loki’s learned there’s a very specific, natural flow of all the timeline branches, how even in nature and space there are patterns which all substance must adhere to. Only one goes against the grain now. It takes a sharp turn and bows inwards, back towards Loki, shaped like a perpetually bent thread trying to tickle the skin of its wearer.
It’s a pesky little thing, really. It pulses with light, making it’s way upstream. The branch is never in any danger or peril, never hostile or erratic, but still subjecting itself to more struggle than is needed. Quite the fighter. It’s almost impressive.
Loki tries rather casually, without ever needing to move a muscle now (and Gods does he ever miss the days where he got his hands dirty, because he can practically feel his muslces atrophying now and it’s unbearably fatiguing) but all that gets him is a jolt to his nerves, a twitch in his heart as the bent branch reaches back towards him. Even though it doesn’t stop growing, it refuses to leave Loki’s side.
And then he hears it. A voice, soft and meant only for him, beckons him.
It starts off with a familiar phrase. “… Let time pass.”
Loki feels its familiarity before really registering the meaning of the words. He registers the gentle twang of a voice which has acted as a pillar for him more often than not, a single thread of sound from a pair of lips, a collection of vibrations tethered to him. Mobius.
And achingly, miraculously, it’s whispering his name.
Nothing else, really. There’s a long beat of silence which could be a couple of minutes or a dozen years. It’s hard for Loki to tell now. But no other words are uttered. Just his. His name. Loki.
“Loki,” Mobius’ voice whispers— over, and over, and over. “Loki… Loki… Loki…”
Loki’s bottom lip trembles, but he doesn’t dare try and answer. Not at first anyway. Who knows if it would even reach Mobius? Or any of the others, for that matter. Loki isn’t supposed to have contact. He doesn’t want to. Involvement was at the root of evil for He Who Remains. He Who Remains controlled and manipulated and picked a timeline of his own choosing, slaughtering the rest.
Only He Who Remains was Loki now, and Loki wouldn’t. Loki would never.
So he listens. He listens to Mobius calling out his name. Time passes. Everything in Loki is still, save for his racing, throbbing, breaking heart. And then, he watches.
He watches the timeline the voice is originating from as it refuses to branch away, as it grows inwards, deformed. And he tries to flick it away for its own good, but it stays there. So he watches it.
It starts to twist at a certain point. The torsion worries Loki at first. He needn’t worry. Mobius keeps calling his name, and somehow that’s proof enough that everything is okay. So still, Loki watches.

The timeline twists itself into a ring shape of sorts. Loki’s eyes never leave it, even with the strain of all other timelines in his hands and around his ankles. This rogue timeline creeps around his wrist and morphs itself into some donut shape, like a bracelet with a twist in it.
The twist is what intrigues Loki. Its ends press together— not firm enough to impede its process of infinite growth, but firm enough to make it seem like a closed shape— and expands slowly, shrinking slightly after a moment and then growing again, like a rising and falling chest which grows to the rhythm of Loki’s pulse. And as Loki stares at it, every fiber of its existence, he sees it.
The shape of it is recognizable, and only lasts for a moment. With the twist, the branch appears for a moment to be a single, never ending loop. A one-sided shape folded into eternity. Everlasting. Like love, he thinks. And that’s what it is: love.
A Möbius strip.
The timelines relaxes itself back into its standard pattern of growth almost as quickly and easily as it had transformed. No longer against the grain, it roams free again once Mobius goes quiet.
Loki, unflinching yet still letting a tears fall down his cheek, watches it unfold with reverence. Here lay Loki, the God of stories, keeper of all time, burdened with glorious purpose, and the whispering of his name nearly tempts him to his knees.
It’s important to know that he doesn’t give into that temptation. Loki remains firmly planted on his throne, head high and mind numb. If the branch’s momentary geometric performance was an expression of Mobius’ love for Loki, then Loki returns that love by never flinching. Everything relies on him never flinching, on keeping him frozen there, where all time begins and ends. If not for his own peace of mind, then for the happiness of his loved ones. For Thor, Sylvie, Ouroboros. And for Mobius.
He sits, still as rock, and suddenly isn’t lonely anymore. Mobius, whether he intended to or not, made his presence known to Loki, and that means more to him than Mobius will ever know.
Only then, when he collects himself and dries his tears, does he let himself whisper in return. “Mobius.”
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just-fandomthings · 5 months
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new pictures after the SAG-AFTRA strike ended :))
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1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5
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just-fandomthings · 5 months
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you need nerves of steel. and a hand as steady as the rock of gibraltar.
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just-fandomthings · 5 months
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@sylvies-chen @my-beloved-lakes
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omg guys tattooing this on my heart
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just-fandomthings · 5 months
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welcome back to alex's unhinged meta corner, today's topic: the chest touch at the pub. that scene has me in a chokehold for some reason and i still cannot stop thinking about it.
the first thing i wanna talk about is crowley's reaction, since this is the shorter part. he did not expect aziraphale to reach out to him like this and freezes for a second while aziraphale happily chatters away.
they were both walking and the hand on his chest stops him, so he comes to a stop right next to him while he was slightly behind him before that. his gaze also snaps to aziraphale's face, who is very much not looking at him.
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they were having a conversation, but the touch essentially shuts crowley up and zira leaves him to get their drinks.
now, my question is why aziraphale does it. sure, it could just be an absent gesture since they're in a crowded place, just that he has never really done so before. i think it was very much planned, like asking crowley to dance and grabbing his hand later on.
a second before he actually reaches out, he also looks back to check whether crowley is where he thinks he is. that is the only time he does that, he was busy looking for a free table and miracles them one when he cannot find one - the look back is deliberate. especially since crowley is practically glued to his side, he has no need for confirmation, he can feel him brushing against him while walking.
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the hand motion he does gets me, too. he is busy fidgeting with his hands like normal and has them clasped in front of him. aziraphale lifts them once he gets to "that is precisely the point", yet also already moves it slightly towards crowley, realizes he miscalculated where exactly he/his chest is, looks to check, then looks away again before actually touching him. am i reading too much into it? maybe.
i think it is his version of a little temptation. not only does it make crowley's brain short-circuit for a second, he also gets them their drinks and is now (or so aziraphale hopes) a bit calmer and will take the news aziraphale is about to give him better. the conversation at the cafe did not go entirely as planned, after all.
additionally, something i am not sure if other people have noticed or not is that aziraphale does not just touch crowley, it is a caress. he moves his hand down his chest.
the movement in order:
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bar girl unfortunately moves in front of them, but you can clearly see the way his hand takes. to give you a direct comparison of the starting and end point:
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a good point of reference is crowley's bolo tie but also the angle of aziraphale's arm while it is still visible.
the best part, in my opinion, is that aziraphale puts his hand right on top of crowley's heart. i think the symbolic importance of that is pretty clear and does not require any more explanation, although it makes me want to throw myself into a river. but that's by the by.
to summarize, aziraphale caresses crowley's heart chest to get him to calm down and not go insane over the news he is about to give him. he is also simply a bastard and knows exactly what he is doing to crowley.
as always, this is me going nuts with analysis, but i'm also curious to hear other people's thoughts on this.
don't tell my therapist about my unhinged meta posts or she will probably be very concerned for my mental wellbeing
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