PSA ;; Please never expect me to respond quickly to anything ever. Whether or not it’s a thread, it’s an ask, it’s a meme — whether or not I responded quickly the time before — whether or not I’m online — etc, etc, etc. I promise I’m not ignoring you, I promise I’m doing my best. I have tons of responsibilities not related to Tumblr, && I also need to eat && sleep && sometimes I’m just not emotionally game. It’s not because I don’t like you, it’s not because I don’t want to do the thing, it’s because I’m human. Thank you!
In a Facebook post dated February 12, 2016, Reynolds introduced McGrath as “the biggest Deadpool fan on earth” and “the funniest, potty-mouthed Canadian mercenary I’ve ever met.”
“He was also the first person ever to see the Deadpool film. Like Wade Wilson, Connor’s trying to put cancer in his rearview mirror,” Reynolds wrote. […] “I called Connor, ‘Bubba.’ And he called me ‘Bubba 2.’ We met because he loved Deadpool. In a certain sense he WAS Deadpool. Or, at least everything Deadpool aspires to be; balancing pain, fearlessness, love and a filthy (filthy!) sense of humor in one body. I wish he could’ve stuck around a lot longer.”
McGrath was treated to a special screening of the then-unreleased film from his hospital room in Edmonton, Alberta. It told the story of Reynolds’ Wade Wilson, a mercenary who is diagnosed with terminal cancer before undergoing an experimental procedure that leaves him with regenerative abilities. […] McGrath’s cancer did not respond to conventional chemotherapy and the boy passed away in April 2016.
if you’re offline or away and i message you something (like a link to a meme or a picture or w/e) honestly just assume that i’m just leaving it there for when you get back and not expecting you to answer straight away. i don’t need you to respond with “hey, sorry, i wasn’t at the computer!” or anything. i was leaving u a gift for later.
This also applies if you’re online and just don’t want to or have the energy to deal with humans in the moment. Just because we have the ability to reply in real time does not mean we have the obligation.
Loki threw his head back and laughed, too dramatic to be sincere. He sat the wooden spoon to the side, the end covered in a thick, red sauce. Strong arms snaked around his waist, a cold nose nudging into the crook of his neck. He couldn’t help but lean back into the comforting weight behind him. It felt like home.
“What does it matter to you?”
Thor didn’t eat— not food, at least, as Loki knew it. His appetites were much darker, ravenous. He could already feel his pulse quicken, his heart working faster in anticipation for Thor’s true meal. Thor could feel it too, it was evident by the small growl he let out as he pressed kisses into the long line of Loki’s neck.
“Because,” Thor said lightly, punctuating himself with a tiny nip to the sensitive flesh of his throat. It had Loki arching back, a whine falling from his lips, breathless.“The sooner you eat, the sooner I can.”
Loki suddenly didn’t care much about the pasta boiling over on the stove. Thor’s meals always promised to be euphoric, no matter if he had to wear that stupid ascot for a week after.
He clicked off the gas stove and turned into the embrace. There was something otherworldly twinkling in Thor’s blue eyes—he didn’t need to glamor, Loki was his.
“Thor and Loki are interesting because their father so completely screwed up their childhood; you don’t tell two boys that their both meant to be king, but only one will do it.” -Alan Taylor
i want a fucking serial killer plot like say muse a and muse b have been dating for the longest fucking time, they’re totally in love, and then at like 2 am one night, muse b comes back home fuckin covered in blood like “ok usually i have time to clean up, you weren’t supposed to see me like this but they had 911 on speed dial and i had to come home” and it’s muse a like oh, oh shit i’m in love with a serial killer and muse b like well fuck the love of my life knows i’ve killed like so many people and idk i feel like this could go places u know
This is the main reason for my general annoyance with lack of size regulation in the fashion industry…
men’s pants are labeled by waist and inseam measurement. women’s pants are labeled by voodoo. even though i do not buy women’s pants, i can recognize this as objectively dumb.
THE NOTES ON THIS
because i can’t stress this enough. this is why i don’t let the numbers get to me. as jumpingjacktrash so eloquently said “women’s pants are labeled by voodoo.”
BUT THISTHISTHISTHISTHIS
so when boys make fun of girls taking forever to shop and trying everything on
WE FUCKING HAVE TO OR NOTHING WILL FIT
Forever grateful for this post for removing the shame of going into a different store and finding that the pants do not fit me even though I am WEARING the “same size” pants right that moment.
This bears repeating: “women’s pants are labeled by voodoo.”
Based on a prompt from @pumpkin-spidey for intersex!Peter finding love with Wade after so many people rejecting him.
(Author’s note: Talks about sexual/gender identity can be very feels-heavy, but because this is Spideypool I tried for a lighter approach. I have a follow up part, a sexy times scene and depending on how everyone likes this one I might post it)
Also, this is long so I’m posting it on Saturday lol
Wade didn’t mean to snort Mountain Dew out of his nose, and holy hell did it burn and he wouldn’t be smelling or tasting anything for a week, but that wasn’t important.
What was important was that Peter’s eyes filled with tears and he started shoving away from the table, gathering his backpack and jacket and mumbling about having to go right now.
“Pete!” Wade coughed and wiped at his face as he tried to run after his boyfriend. “Pete! Wait come back! Pete!”
“Leave me alone.” Peter sniffed and kept right on walking. “I don’t know why I expected you to act like any less of an asshole than you usually do, but some how I’m still surprised.”
“Pete, please.” Wade snagged his jacket, careful not to pull too hard, because last time he’d down that Peter had turned and clocked him right into a wall. “Just wait up a minute and let me try that again. I won’t react like such a dick this time, I swear, you just sort of–” he threw his hands up. “You just sort of surprised me is all.”
themusechronicles 