#really ruminate on it

[elthadriel]

💜 surprise kiss / impulsive kiss for maze/zey? :>

Zey drags his boots on the mat outside the door, scraping wet mud from the soles. He taps his keycard on the panel and steps into the warmth of their apartment and out of the rain. He pulls off his dripping coat, hanging it up beside Maze’s. Maze must have got back before the weather turned because his is still dry, while Zey was caught unprepared in a coat made for the cold but not the wet. His shirt clings to him in damp patches around the collar where his coat had become too saturated to protect him.

He sighs, putting down the grocery bag to sit on the small bench by the door. He removes one boot and then the other. His hair and beard are soaked, only adding to the unpleasant dampness of his coat.

The floors creak as he moves through the apartment, and he finds Maze exactly where he expects him to be. They work out of the office downstairs, but they have a desk seat up in the apartment too, and it sees almost as much use. Maze looks up as Zey enters, but the caution is habit, it’s clear in the Force that he already knew who it was from Zey’s boots on the stairs.

He’s had another attempt at fixing the desk’s wobble, wedging several folded sheets of flimsi wedged under the back left leg.

“Anything I should know about?” Maze asks.

“Kasi’s alibi held up, but something feels off about the whole thing.” Zey has had nothing but bad feelings about the whole job. Zey nods and says nothing, though he more than trusts Zey’s instincts. “Oh, and I picked up some more caf.” He holds up the bag.

Maze grunts a thanks, but doesn’t look up again. He’ll be done working for the evening, trading in police reports for his latest haul from the library. Zey will prompt him over dinner, and Maze will gladly provide a lecture on whatever he’s been reading about.

They’ll need to eat soon, but he’ll change first. He’ll leave Maze to read.

“Zey.”

He turns back with a questioning sound.

Maze puts down his datapad. He doesn’t turn it off—he intends to be right back to it—and stands. His presence is a strange thing. Zey is familiar with him, understands the subtleties of his emotions despite how well he shields himself. He’s certain in the way he usually is but there’s something else that Zey doesn’t know what to make of. He doesn’t dig to try and make sense of it. Maze has never asked him not to look closer than the surface stuff Zey can’t help but see, but that’s only because he’s never had to.

Maze steps close, close enough that they’re almost touching. They’ve been closer, but there’s a deliberateness to it that’s thick and heavy.

Zey is damp from the rain and holding a grocery bag and Maze is going to kiss him.

There’s plenty of time for him to step away—they've been carefully stepping away for years—but Zey…

Maze closes the gap but Zey twists his head to make it easier. Hair from Zey’s beard gets between their lips but neither of them act to fix it. It’s over as quickly as it began.

It felt like the most natural thing in the world. It’s almost impossible to believe they’ve never done it before.  

Maze considers him, and then gives a small nod. He steps away again, walking back around his desk.

“Why now?” Zey asks, voice coming out rougher than he expects. They’ve been edging around for almost as long as they’ve known each other, since some unknowable moment during the war. They’ve built something here, a business, a home, perhaps a life.

Maze leans back in his chair, considering that answer as carefully as he considers everything. He’s clever in a way few people are, his willingness to take his time making him cleverer still.

“You should have taken your other coat,” he says at last. “You warned me this morning to keep an eye out for rain.” 

Zey follows Maze around his desk, cupping his jaw and tilting his head up. He kisses Maze again, lingering this time until Maze’s mouth turns up into a smile under his.

There's a dark spot on Maze’s collar from where Zey has dripped onto him.

“I’ll start dinner,” he says. “I’ll call you when it’s ready.”

Maze’s smile is still there, as small and achingly familiar as always.

[kbsd]

when a lovely flame dies, smoke gets in your eyes

OR: what were we supposed to take away from episode 4 if not ‘bucky is a war widow’

[bigboobshaunt]

I know it's largely a waste of time because the people I've seen peddling this idea don't really care and are just doing it to add pointless discourse, but I am bored at work so at least I'm getting paid!

The idea that, although Kabru cares about Laios, Laios doesn't care about Kabru is wrong, even before he becomes his royal advisor and the new interactions they got post-canon, and insisting otherwise shows a lack of understanding of the dynamic.

I think it's clear to everyone that the confession scene mattered to Kabru, so the camp pushing this lately isn't even arguing that, but I don't think they're thinking from Laios' side.

The entire scene is meant to be a parallel to Laios and Shuro's fight way earlier in the manga. Laios hasn't known Kabru for nearly as long, but he was still someone who was ultimately lying to him (a façade in Kabru's case, wrapped up in his own trauma) and someone that Laios built up an ideal version of in his head... so why is his reaction to Kabru coming clean so starkly different? Simply put, it's his character development.

Instead of angry and betrayed, he doesn't even initially believe anyone would go through the trouble of braving the Dungeon to be his friend. Such a ridiculous idea!

But Kabru IS sincere. He is sincere in his desire to get to truly know Laios. He has his own wrong ideas about what makes Laios tick, but differently from many, many people in his life (especially with his childhood and his complex feelings towards his village and his parents who ostracized him and Falin) Kabru is willing to make an effort to understand him. That's huge.

[crawley-fell]

If I'm so happy How am I losing all this sleep?

[bleachbleachbleach]

I wanna know what Ikkaku knows about Urahara:

[Bleach 087]

Like, do they... know each other? The visual suggests that someone in the scene knows Urahara was a captain, and it sure ain't Ichigo. So I feel like we're meant to understand that Ikkaku knows this.

Urahara's name also holds weight in terms of Ichigo's viability as an opponent, which suggests Ikkaku knows Urahara as someone other than some rando criminal, or just as a Mad Scientist type. It's Ichigo's movement that impresses Ikkaku, not his strategic craftiness.

I don't try that hard to keep the Gotei's 20th Century straight in my mind, but we do know that during TBTP Zaraki wasn't 11th Captain yet, and therefore Ikkaku may not have been in the Gotei at that point then, ether. (There's a whole dispersal of 11th backstory filler eps, which I've been assuming aren't in the manga in any form, but who knows, maybe some of this backstory info also holds true here, too. In the anime, Ikkaku and Yumichika follow Zaraki into the Gotei.)

In any case, apparently Ikkaku has a whole Seireitei family (see: TYBW), so maybe they were well-positioned for all the hot TBTP goss regardless of whether Ikkkau was enlisted at the time.

Or does everyone just know who Urahara is? Obviously, he's a poorly kept secret at least as far as his outpost goes; he's made a whole business out of it. But if Rukia knew he'd been a captain she doesn't harp on it.

And if there's something you can count on me for, it is knowledge of random-ass Hitsugaya panels:

[Bleach 237]

Hitsugaya says he doesn't know who Urahara is. Well, he's heard the rumors about Urahara, but says Urahara is someone whose true nature can't be ascertained. He probably does know what Urahara used to be a captain. He's heard that he's formidable, and probably isn't someone to let your guard down around. Which, really, is all the things we know Ikkaku knows about Urahara. Hitsugaya's just not willing to extrapolate further based on rumor alone. Maybe Ikkaku is.

But based on how Urahara's name influences the way Ikkaku chooses to fight Ichigo, I feel like Ikkaku is not operating solely on rumor, either. Someone's battle prowess/skill as a mentor doesn't seem like something he'd accept without firsthand knowledge, even if he's willing to roll with it for other stuff. So I feel like it's perfectly defensible to argue that even if Ikkaku wasn't actually in the Gotei while Urahara was in the picture, he still had an ~encounter (and probably not while Urahara was in his Innocent Shopkeeper era).

Maybe Ikkaku ran into Urahara in the woods when Urahara was off making an impression on Kuukaku [1][2]. Or Ikkaku's Seireitei family sic'd the Onmitsukidou on him while he was off playing hooky in Rukongai! Tons of fun possibilities!

Of course, this raises the time-honored question of what, if anything, anyone in the current Gotei knows about TBTP. Because it really seems like they know nothing, and didn't even know there was something to not know. But for a lot of them that might be an effect of their willingness to pretend they know nothing? So I feel like you could go in a lot of directions with that. Not to have blorbo disease again, but Hitsugaya seemed like he was learning Vizard Lore in real-time during the Winter War, so apparently it's not like, part of some kind of Area 51 folder you gain access to when you become a captain lol. YOU HAD TO BE THERE. (BUT ALSO SOMETIMES NOT EVEN THEN)

[ganymedesclock]

To explain The Goblin Problem and not go on a tag rant on someone else's reblog, I will explain it in the nutshell.

The Goblin Problem is when a story establishes a group of creatures to serve as recurrent antagonists (not necessarily all one species; in a lot of rpg games this can broadly apply to "monsters") THAT:

Are never negotiable, or the negotiable parties among them are Token Heroic Orcs- that is to say, they are seen as objectors or 'good' versions who have absolutely no connections to, and hold no objections toward you attacking, the rest of their brethren, who they have forsaken as the price to be paid for being good.

Have obvious unique technology; they may attack you with weapons found nowhere else in the game, demonstrate the ability to speak, have their own obvious language, tame a creature that nobody else tames so that it's thus impossible that they are stealing already-tamed specimens from someone else

Are characterized primarily or exclusively as raiders who attack others, with the justification this means they are inferior creatures parasitically dependent on Good, Civilized Settings, e.g. they cannot possibly be sustainably hunting, gathering, or practicing either nomadic or settled agriculture.

Are often defined as having no choice to be evil or are created by a greater evil to serve as thralls, and yet, will not under any circumstances be regarded as indoctrinated victims, or if that is mentioned, there will nonetheless be an overarching lack of narrative concern as to where or how the survivors should live after the greater evil is taken care of, or if effort should be made to challenge the indoctrination and give them the ability to choose their lives.

What this ultimately creates is that they are unambiguously people, who obviously check all the marks of sapience, who are quite possibly wearing clothes, but the goblin or orc exists as a stopgap. You want your fantasy hero to get into a swordfight but you don't want him to kill another human being. So you invent something that wields a sword but is in some way "not a person", which is senseless. Unless you want the nature of this swordfight to be that a chimpanzee picked up a knife, at which point they are not going to use reliable sword techniques.

[mithriil]

Snow White Hands

Larissa Weems x Reader Fluff (mostly, teeny-tiny mention of smut but not really)

A/N: I have a lot of thoughts on hands, thats it, thats the fic. Link to Ao3  or read it here under the cut.

Hands were tools, used everyday to carry groceries, hold books or open doors, to wash dishes or clothes or to use other tools in turn.

Yet hers, hers were so much more than mere tools to do her bidding - hers were an art piece, a performance of elegance you could watch endlessly, dreaming the day away, too lost in the way she delicately held a pen or gripped onto the armrests of her chair when agitated about work.

How sometimes she would get lost in her thoughts and trace mindless patterns into the dark wood of her desk, the flames of the fireplace in her office casting her long fingers in a warm light, accentuating her knuckles and bringing the gold on her ring finger to a warm glow.

Sometimes you could see the fine bones and tendons of her hands stand out as she gripped tightly on the fine silk sheets of the bed, her red nails nearly ripping apart the soft bedding as she frantically whispered your name as if it were a mantra she was reciting, too lost in her body and mind to comprehend much of her surroundings except you and your own hands.

Your own hands, which were a mere tool, in no way comparable to the beauty of hers, tasked with the sole purpose of bringing her to a blinding peak in those moments. Capable of soft caresses and stinging slaps, rough pinches yet sweet petting. Afterwards, she would gaze at you with such warmth and joy, take your hands in hers and kiss them with such reverence, it made you forget for a moment that yours were but a tool. To see her cherish you so, look at you so lovingly, it was as if just for that minute you could believe your own hands being beautiful, being more than just a tool, but a piece of art in their own right.

Feeling her delicate touch in your hair, gently petting and combing through it, you sometimes felt as if you were levitating above your body and watching it happen from outside, imagining her long fingers carding through your hair, gently scratching at your scalp with her painted nails, softly grazing the tips of your ears as she told you of her day and you listened and hummed in pure content.

Lost in your thoughts and memories you didn't notice her trying to get your attention, not until you felt her warm touch on your cheek. She had taken off one of her gloves, her cup left aside as she looked slightly concerned at you, brows furrowed and red lips pursed.

The noise and chatter of the little Café returned to you, the tinkering of the barista and and frantic typing of the student in the booth behind you grounding you in the moment.

Looking up into her worried eyes you let out a small sigh, relishing her touch on your cheek, cupping her hand with one of your own and letting a small smile shine through before gently nodding your head. You were perfectly alright, more than alright even, sometimes you just got lost in the little details that made up her. You felt the ring against your cheek as she, now assured that you were fine, slowly let her hand slip down, grazing your jaw before coming to rest on the table between you both, your hands now entwined. As you began absent-mindedly playing with her hand she gently smiled, endeared by the unabashed affection in your eyes as you recounted the book you last read to her.

You were perfectly alright, more than alright even, sometimes you just got lost in the little details that made up her, but who could fault you for that.

[sysig]

Light and darkness, but mostly darkness (Patreon)

[uncanny-tranny]

It's so hard to fully encapsulate my rage at just how much people buy into the idea that capitalism will uniquely incentivize people to innovate when... it isn't about innovation. It is about profit, and those two things are not mutually inclusive ideas.

Maybe I'm getting too old, but all of these "new innovative" ideas were shit we had in ye olden days - movies, renting, delivery services, taxis, housing - we had all of those services, except now, it's exorbitantly more expensive because of price gouging.

You aren't witnessing innovation; you are witnessing the modern invention of the wheel behind a ludicrous pay wall.

[twinstxrs]

there’s probably something deeply wrong with me because every time i see someone react to the pok gukgak interrogation scene it’s like “oh no oh my god is riz’s dad a bad guy?” when the first time i saw that scene my only thought was “oh my god is riz’s dad HOT??”

[lagosbratzdoll]

Honest thoughts on Alicent Hightower?

I have a lot of empathy for women like Alicent Hightower. I know and love quite a few women like her, with similar experiences, and fears, and who make similar decisions. 

Some women who align with the system that is oppressing them do so due to their inability to envision the possibility of freedom. Therefore, they opt to join the oppressive system in the hope of gaining some power from it. They sacrifice their dreams to the patriarchy and more often than not, they're fine with this exchange because they can wield power as wives, as mothers and less commonly as daughters.

Which is understandable, sad but understandable.

It is a miserable existence, and they feel resentment when they see other women who do not want to conform to the narrow lane that patriarchy (especially African patriarchy) designates for us. They become bitter and resentful, but they never direct that bitterness towards the men who are oppressing them. They direct their bitterness towards the women in their lives, bucking patriarchal oppression as best they can, instead of the men who are actively oppressing them. 

It makes them very dangerous. Women whose entire identity is tied to the men in their lives will gladly set you on fire to keep a man, any man, warm. They'll rarely encourage men to hurt you explicitly, but they'll cheer when they do. They'll tell you that being hurt by the patriarchy is the price that you have paid for stepping out of line. For daring to aspire to more than three predetermined roles that women are destined for.

My whole life has been balancing my love and my anger at the patriarchy princesses in my life. How do you love someone who is in community with people who want you dead? In my experience, painfully and from a distance. 

[aroaessidhe]

2024 reads / storygraph

Fallen Thorns

dark urban fantasy coming-of-age

follows a boy settling into university, when after a date (that he didn’t even want to go on) turns bad he’s made into a vampire

as he settles into his new existence and the local vampire community - while they try to find who’s been leaving bodies across the city - he discovers that there’s something different and darker within him

aroace neurodivergent MC

[nowihatemyself]

gold rush, taylor swift / "taylor swift broke all her rules with folklore -- and gave herself a much-needed escape," alex suskind for entertainment weekly / "5 things we learned watching taylor swift's surprise new folklore documentary," liam hess for vogue / "taylor swift opens up about the creation of evermore," eli countryman for variety / "musicians on musicians: taylor swift & paul mccartney," patrick doyle for rolling stone / "taylor swift feels her music was getting too 'diaristic,' recalls feeling under a 'microscope'," mitchell peters for billboard / taylor swift in a tweet from april 2021 / cardigan, taylor swift / the torn-up road, richard siken

[alvae-art]

[extraordinarilyextreme]

MLCB Concert: XSY's Farewell

In truth, I really don’t like this part, because it also represents that we are bidding our characters farewell for good.

In the morning, when I was getting my makeup done - in an instant, I returned to that summer. I felt that, to be together with good friends, and then having experienced as sweltering a summer as that…

Such an ardently hot-blooded jianghu was presented to everyone; to stand here today-- Because… Because, during the time of Mysterious Lotus Casebook’s initial broadcast, everyone and all the lianluorens must also be thanked. I know there must have been a lot of difficulties when it was first broadcasted, right? To have reached this step today, I think is already very good. I think it is a result of every person’s hard work.

Just now, when we were off-stage, Yan-laoshi said something I really like; in an instant, I lost my composure. I don’t think fate is something that will come with enough waiting, or something that can be insisted on having. It’s when there comes a day where we stand together and work hard to strive toward a common goal. The sentiments of that moment, I feel, last forever.

I hope, however many years later, everyone is still together - that lianluorens can still be together. Thank you, everyone. This summer, thank you to every person. Thank you to all my good companions; thank you, every single person.

Di Feisheng! Until we meet again!

【莲花楼演唱会】 Mysterious Lotus Casebook Concert - 20230916

江湖路远   山高水长  祝 「繁华」 似锦！ The roads of the jianghu stretch far; the mountains are lofty, and the rivers are long. I wish your future to be as splendid as an embroidered tapestry! 「追光」 而行  不负初心  愿 永生难忘！ Chase the light as you journey; live up to the original intentions of your heart. I hope this will be unforgettable for your lifetime!

Any mistakes are my own.

[electric-friend]

do you guys ever think about izzy’s heart sinking when he and ed were boys and they started stealing rum from their captain, and ed got a taste for it? izzy getting this bad feeling when ed kept demanding izzy pass the bottle back, when he’d take longer and longer drinks from it each time? when he’d get a mischievous glint in his eye and a cute little grin and ask if izzy wanted to nick a drink but it got more and more often that he’d suggest it? do you think izzy ever felt cold and scared with his eddie slurring his words and spilling rum over his fingers gesturing with the bottle as he complained about his drunkard of a father?

do you ever think izzy noticed that even as they all slowed down with that reckless lifestyle, every feeling of doubt would send ed to the bottle? all the insecurity, anger, mistakes, or guilt, without a doubt ed would go straight for a drink without giving it a second thought? (not outwardly anyway, but there might have been shame in the gaze he directed anywhere but iz’s face).

do you think izzy ever held ed’s hand as ed drunkenly wept about how his father would drink and hit, and bandage those same hands when ed came staggering and stumbling out of taverns with bloodied knuckles?

do you think he ever knew something was wrong, but he didn’t know what to do? or if he ever told eddie to slow down with the liquor, ed’d be angry and frightened, afraid of being compared to his father, and izzy couldn’t bear to press the issue and make the hurt in ed’s eyes last any longer pointed in his direction?

do you think ed saw himself when izzy kept himself drunk for days after loosing his leg, and finally got a sense of that sinking feeling that izzy’d been having all their lives when ed drank?