#[ Musing ]

[glaciescustodia]

@orphiicheartd

Artwork by Ana Ciorcila Acdodtt

[st-just]

Always very funny to go from tumblr culture (Harry Potter basically, like, anathemized) to coworkers or relatives just casually bringing it up with zero idea about why the franchise would even be controversial. Unironically one of the bigger bubbles I forget I'm in.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

People like to romanticize the relationship between Zelda and Link in a whole “destined reincarnated soulmates” kind of way, but am I the only one who thinks it would be more interesting if Link didn’t love Zelda?

Like, think of it. Hylia is a Goddess, basically Hylian Jesus, and she loves this mortal man. A hero who stepped forward to defeat a Devil in the world’s hour of greatest need. But, he didn’t do it for her, he did it for the World. Even when he binds his soul to the Triforce, locking himself in an endless pattern of reincarnation with her against the Devil Demise, it’s not because he loves her. He loves Hyrule and its people.

But that’s okay, maybe in the next life they can be?

But it isn’t. Over and over, Hylia becoming Zelda, Link doesn’t love her. He loves Hyrule. He loves to dance to its music and ride its fields and wants to preserve it against the threat of Demise. He loves different women each time, and sometimes it is Hylia’s reincarnation, but they’re never the core of his heart.

It’s always Hyrule that he loves. From it’s savage and arid deserts to the cold and harsh tundra, he loves it, and steps forward to save it each time.

Duty, he calls it. Responsibility and Purpose, but Hylia/Zelda knows the truth. He’ll never love her the way she wants him to.

Hyrule will always be Link’s first and greatest love.

[pishifuzul]

little sisters were invented for wearing shorts that are so loose they slip to the side when you're hanging out and give you a peek and they don't even understand why you're staring

[sciencegothic]

what’s really interesting is that both this song share a motif - when henry sings; “all these precious years i’ve dedicated to this dream…” up to “…if it mattered less if treat it with derision, it’s absurd” it has a similar melody as lisa’s part is lisa carew from “ever since my mother died, my father bless his darling heart…” up until “…when it comes to marriage i must pick whom i prefer”

i don’t think they’re exactly the same but i played them together and there is definitely meant to be similarity there. anytime i here one i think of the other, and i find it so interesting because both are the result of stride trying to get his way. it’s interesting !!

Just because she rejected you doesn’t mean you have to take it out on Jekyll you stupid petty man. It’s not his fault you’re unlovable.

[loonyloopylupin96]

Was Remus' boggart always the moon, or did it only become that when he no longer had to fear losing everyone he loved?

[ectoentity]

Danny's Not OP

So, there's a lot of fics about Danny being super OP compared to heroes in the DCU and the heroes are kind of overwhelmed about it. But what if that's not the case?

The Justice League deals with Kryptonians, and Martians, and Tamaranians, and other aliens with crazy powersets, not to mention magic users and gods. Highly varied powersets might not be the norm, but it's not unheard of.

So what if Danny, from a universe with no other superheroes, goes to the DCU. Maybe he tries to pretend he's less powerful than he is, or he gets in trouble and thinks it'll be easy to slip away. And instead of being caught off-guard by how powerful he is, the DC heroes just take it in stride. It's no big deal. Yeah, he can turn invisible and pass through things. So can Martians. Kryptonians have frost breath. Starfire has hand beams that are a lot like ectoblasts. Danny's not any more powerful than they are.

How would Danny react? Would he be relieved that he was among people with similar powers, or weirded out by it?

[comatosebunny09]

— cw: adult content, cheating, shitty fiancé, self-indulgent madness, mdni — notes: i can’t sleep, and @alfredosaws got the gears turning in my head. sorry if this isn’t your jam. i was horny and needed to torture myself. — now playing: see through - amelia moore

Imagine Sylus as your real estate agent, showing you and your fiancé around a potential home.

Your fiancé doesn’t seem too interested, busy typing away on his phone or occasionally stepping out to answer phone calls. You titter nervously, explaining to Sylus with a wry smile that your fiancé is a very busy man.

Still, Sylus continues showing you the rest of the house, pointing out parts that would appeal primarily to you.

“You see here? The master bedroom contains an en-suite bathroom with enough counter space to house all your skincare products. ”

“The bathtub has jets. Perfect for when you want to unwind after a long day on your feet. You look like you shoulder the world. You deserve to take a load off with a warm, soothing bath.”

“The sunroom would be great for your plants. You look like you have quite a green thumb. You strike me as a cultivator. A nurturer. Someone who should learn to sit down from time to time.”

“The counter space in the kitchen is immaculate. Perfect for when the love of your life wants to cook breakfast or have you for dessert.”

He’s so very flattering and handsome, and you find yourself falling prey to his charms. You rein yourself in when your fiancé returns, still as detached about the house as ever. You ask him for his opinion, to which he shrugs you off and remarks that he’s happy if you’re happy. Conveniently, his phone rings again, and he walks outside to take the call.

Sylus gives you a pitying look as if he knows there’s trouble in paradise. You smile awkwardly to dispel his worries.

Sure, your fiancé isn’t always present in your relationship. And maybe you agreed to his proposal out of fear, thinking you would lose out on your white picket fence if you refused him. But, who are you kidding? You haven’t felt like yourself in years. Haven’t genuinely smiled in a very long time, and your fiancé hasn’t helped improve your self-esteem, nitpicking when you’re a little bloated or leave the house without makeup.

You’ve recently caught him entertaining other women on his socials, and he would quickly gaslight you, exclaiming that you were looking for reasons to be upset. Deep down, you know he isn’t good for you, and you deserve better, but a sick part of you believes he is your punishment for some crimes you might’ve committed in a past life.

Sylus has read you like a book, and you’ve only worked with him for two months. You feel more comfortable in his presence than the man you’re about to marry, having known him much longer.

“Come with me, sweetheart,” says Sylus, his voice a sweet, sticky dolce as he takes your hand into his larger one.

He guides you up the spiraling staircase towards the main bedroom and lures you into the massive walk-in closet. And when you’re swathed in the darkness after he shuts the door behind you, he backs you up against a wall, your breaths intermingling whilst his mouth hovers over yours.

“You poor thing,” he whispers next to your ear, the hairs scattered across your body standing on end, pleasant tingles ricocheting through your extremities. He takes your hand in his, pressing it against the cool, textured wall overhead, tenderly twining your fingers together. “That Narcissist doesn’t deserve you, now does he?” His lips graze yours, the sensation making your legs tremble like a fawn.

“I can see it in your eyes.” A weighted palm smooths over your side, a devastatingly powerful knee sliding between the fat of your thighs, pilfering the breath from your lungs. He touches you with a reverence you’ve never known. “You don’t love him, do you? Not when I can touch you like this.”

He takes possession of your jaw, breathing hot and open-mouthed against your lips, nuzzling your noses together. And you’re dizzy, the closet suddenly feeling so cramped, and the warmth of his body permeating through the layers of your clothes. “You’re so beautiful. You deserve so much more. I can give you so much more. May I kiss you, sweetling?”

Despite the voice screaming somewhere far off in your mind that this is very much wrong, you find yourself nodding sluggishly in the darkness as if he can see you slowly turning to putty in his palms. He chuckles, the vibrations of it making your tummy flutter like you’re cresting down a hill.

Wordlessly, he pans in, startling you with a gentle kiss at first. Something deft and ghostly, so soft you wouldn’t believe it happened. When you make a gentle keen of protest after he pulls way, he takes that as his cue to kiss you again, this time more firm and full-bodied, the rigid pane of his body slowly anchoring you to the wall. 

Your unoccupied hand slides over his spine, concluding its excursion at the small of his back, and he’s strong here. Sturdy as if he could lift you one-handed if he so pleases. The idea makes you whimper, and he swallows the pretty little noises he invokes, his sweltering tongue pushing into your mouth to map out every ridge and crevice. 

He slips a warm, weighted palm into the crook of your knee, drawing your thigh up to rest on his hip. And, with this new angle, he presses fully against you, the stitching of his slacks scraping pleasantly over the inner cut of your thigh. He releases your hand once moored to the wall to hoist you into his arms, one of your heels clattering to the floor. Ten shaky fingers bury themselves in his hair, sifting through tufts of soft white to draw him ever closer to deepen your lip-lock. 

Despite the spacious closet, it’s growing uncomfortably warm. Too many clothes are in the way, so you tug his shirt from his slacks. Your fingers blindly scramble over his shirt buttons, eager to feel the smooth, supple glide of his skin beneath them. He chuckles something throaty and enrapturing, kissing you velvet-soft as his desire awakens to press against your thigh.

“So eager, aren’t you?” he husks, breaking away from your lips with a sticky click to blister your jaw and carotid with languorous kisses. “Has he ever touched you like this? Kissed you like this?” 

You crane your head back, your skull lightly thudding against the wall behind you. Your lashes shutter. The feeling of his mouth dragging over your skin and his weighted body nestled between your thighs is too much and yet not enough. You cling to his back, your grip white-knuckled, mouth parted slightly with wanton pleas for more more more.

But before he can grant your request, your fiancé’s voice beckons to you through the empty, sturdy walls of the house. The spell that befell you disperses, reality careening in. You push against Sylus’ lean chest with the heel of your palm, panting and gasping, squirming to be let down. Sylus reluctantly heeds you, gently setting you onto your feet. 

He helps you slide back into your discarded heel, kissing your ankle on his way back up, and you try to ignore how your body burns like an inferno at the attention. It takes all of you not to snatch him towards you once more, to kiss him and demand he take you, right then and there, with your fiancé calling for you downstairs. But, as much as it pains you, you feel remorse for how far you already let things go. 

Fixing your clothes and hair to some semblance of neatness in the darkness, the pair of you exit the closet. You don a rehearsed smile, answering your fiancé that you’ll be right down. Searing, slender fingers encircle your wrist before you can descend the stairs. You acknowledge Sylus with a look over your shoulder. He fixes you with a feverish stare that burns like a flame, revealing a deep desire for you. And the realization shoots straight to your center as his mouth draws into an unflinching line. 

Something in your chest pinches and pulls. And for a moment, you consider what your life would be like if you’d given yourself more credit and granted yourself a little more grace. But you brush away your thoughts, fixing Sylus with an unconvincing smile before pulling away from him to descend the stairs into the arms of your loving, soon-to-be husband.  

[mythtakens]

Eddie + looking away from Buck

[apomaro-mellow]

senior home steddie where steve often hits on the ravishing gentleman who always sits near him. Eddie tells him he's married and Steve asks if his husband can fight. Eddie always answers no with a smile that's much too fond for strangers.

[sciencegothic]

i like jekyll and hyde because yeah hyde is a freak but i mean jekyll is too

[rippedlovelines]

the merits of the twinyards learning to show their love for each other in slow stilted actions r a lot. for me. to me. little things. aaron buying andrew his favorite sweets because he remembers his picky eating tendencies; andrew throwing a blanket over aaron passed out in the living room after pulling an all-nighter. opening up more during their sessions w bee, angry accusations n cold statements melting into talking abt hurts n what shaped them growing up which becomes even conversation n learning abt each other more ( to bee’s not so small delight.)

the glares n perpetual scowls aaron once wore in andrew presence turn into smth more knowing n relaxed. he thinks one day he’ll be able to forgive andrew for tilda’s death; knowing the reasons behind it now, how andrew did it for his sake. (when he tells andrew that he thought he was going to die, during the days he was locked in that bathroom, his voice is raw. andrew’s face shutters. then, he says in what is possibly the closest thing to regret aaron has ever heard from andrew, “If I could make what you experienced during that time less painful, I would.” n really what’s done is done n there’s no going back, but aaron needed some sort of closure, smth, anything ! so he turns away n tries not to shake from all the emotions of what he’s feeling. andrew sits there n waits for him to return to normal.) andrew begins to make eye contact w aaron, he stops looking thru him—choosing to acknowledge his existence, instead. he sees how aaron is making an effort, clumsily attempting to prove that he isn’t letting andrew go, in spite of everything. (“ I’m not going anywhere. I hate you, but I’m still not going anywhere.” aaron says defiantly during one session where andrew said smth abt aaron going on his merry way after graduation. it shocks andrew. he stills suddenly n it’s v hard for him to look away from aaron’s blazing eyes. “Do what you like.” andrew replies stiffly. it’s acceptance n permission wrapped up in one.)

they learn how to mend the fragments of their broken past so they can both move forward. aaron releasing his resentment of andrew slowly but surely. andrew allowing himself to think of aaron as more than someone who will disappear one day, someone permanent in his life. they talk to each other !!! they meet up to do things—in complete silence sometimes, with small comments here n there in other times. after graduation, andrew goes to play on the east coast while aaron does med school elsewhere. it’s a big change. it’s difficult, often times. aaron will look next to himself with words on the tip of his tongue, then realize andrew is not around. andrew will look behind him as he traverses the streets of nyc, hand outstretched as tho to hold onto smth, a shirt perhaps, forgetting that aaron is not there.

But!!!

the two of them call each other once a year,month, week— the occurrences gradually becoming more n more frequent. 3 years pass by. andrew is in town for a game. afterwards, he meets up w aaron for a drink. it’s quiet. not uncomfortable. they take each other in n note how separation n time away has made the other different. aaron is in a good mood , hair shaved close down, face full, n nothing like the raggedy n hollowed boy andrew met years ago. aaron in turn observes how andrew’s eyes r half-lidded w smth one would call happiness if it were anyone else, but it’s js content for andrew; his arms tattooed beneath his armbands, n a looseness to his shoulders that aaron could not have ever believed andrew to posses once upon a time. after some small talk n a small congratulations from aaron for andrew’s team win, andrew slips a piece of paper out of his jacket pocket n shoves it at aaron, face blank. it’s a new team contract. it’s in the same city as aaron’s med school :) aaron decidedly does not smile, but sources say his lips quirked up a bit. they order cheesecake. everything is fine. they r brothers. they walk out together.

[library-fae]

i see posts about people saying you shouldn't say "going nonverbal" or use the term nonverbal if you arent always nonverbal and it makes me feel like yall forgot about variable disabilities

ambulatory wheelchair users exist

chronic pain doesn't always make people immobile every single day (depending on the person)

so why cant being nonverbal also be a spectrum, much like so much of autism is?

[st-just]

'White Americans don't have any culture, they're just [normal/boring/generic/empty]. 'Culture' is when you're quaint and exotic and have interesting ethnic foods and holidays." is such a grating bit of nonsense to have somehow become progressive commonsense in a lot of places.

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Idea for an animated kid's movie/comedy.

So there's this dinosaur park that's a thinly veiled Jurassic Park knock-off (call it Cretaceous Island), and it's a bit of a toy story situation, in that the dinosaurs can talk and communicate when the humans aren't looking, mostly at night.

The dinos don't really want to break out since they like their cushy zoo lives and five-star treatment from the staff, so they're willing to get oggled by a bunch of twelve year olds to keep the food coming.

Out main characters are a T-Rex, two raptor sisters, and a wise old triceratops. The raptors are bored with their lives and long for adventure, the triceratops is a wise-old mentor figure, and the T-Rex is lonely since the park won't engineer any other T-Rex's for safety reasons.

Through magical shenanigans they get sent back to the actual Cretaceous period.

Now these pampered genetically engineered dinos have to survive in the savage dinosaur era. To underscore the differences between them, the future dinos are animated as pretty standard cartoon dinosaurs, a la Land Before Time, while the dinosaurs from the past are animated to be as scientifically accurate as possible.

The dinos go through shenanigans, amke friends in the past, evade predators, and eventually make their way home through magic portal stuff, except for the T-Rex who elects to stay behind since he's fallen for a female T-Rex he met in the past. His friends are sad to leave him behind, but go to the present anyway.

Back in the present, the dinos think nothing has really changed, but they find that the exhibit in the visitor's center, previously a single roaring T-Rex skeleton, has been replaced with two T-Rex's, famous for being found fossilized together called "The Deadly Lovers", and its their friend and the mate he found in the past. It ends on the bittersweet note.