#if I have two words to describe it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

uncanny-tranny · 1 month

Note

How do I know if I'm bi?

So this might not be a helpful answer, but it is my genuine thought, and I want to be honest: You know you're bi if you find comfort, or happiness, or understanding of yourself in that label. It's not necessarily about split attraction to multiple genders.

Yes, bisexual people will often be attracted to more than one gender (not just man and woman, either! Many bisexual people aren't attracted to both binary genders because bisexuality is yet another complex and nuanced component of human sexuality, which in itself is inherently complex). Yes, many bisexual people express those attractions, and yes, many bisexual people share things in common. But frankly, not every bisexual is going to have similar experiences or thoughts or expressions of sexuality. My bisexuality is going to look different than yours might because I am a different human being. As such, I think it's less helpful to say "to be bisexual, you need to have these experiences," but it's more helpful to say, "if you find comfort in the bisexual label, use it"

The worst that happens with sexuality labels is you find one that matches better. I used to use the label pansexual when I was younger - the worst thing that happened was I stopped using it a year later when I felt it didn't accurately describe my feelings anymore.

If you suspect you're bi, there's likely a reason for that, and there's nothing wrong with you investigating that further. However, I don't want you to feel like you need to Prove Yourself to even use language that accurately describes your sexuality or sense of sexuality - no matter if that language is as simple as saying you're bisexual or not. Sexuality is an important aspect of identity for many folks, and you deserve the opportunity to make it as important or inconsequential as you want. Nobody is going to throw you in jail for not being bisexual or queer "enough." There's no law that says you have to have a 50/50 split attraction to binary men and women only to be bi. There's no bisexual card we hand out to you, saying you've been vetted as Bi Enough.

#ask #anon #bi #bisexual #lgbt #lgbtq #like my sense of sexuality is very convoluted and i still use bi because it's the closest i've got and that's FINE #if i was a bit younger i might have used a label like abro but i *personally* don't have any attachment or care for it being used for me #and that's fine!!! there can be two similar people in terms of sexuality who use COMPLETELY different language and labels #just like a person like me (trans man) could be on hormones and use he/him and masculine language and 'only' call themself a butch #(quotes around the word only because butch isn't a secondary identity compared to an identity like mine)#that's the beauty about language and our conceptualizions of ourselves!#we want to be understood and we cobble that together in as best a way as possible #language is naturally limiting because our feelings and thoughts are too deep for it i think #there is only so much we can do to be understood. so we do our best #what i want you to do is do your best. it's not about being Perfect in how you describe yourself. that's not the point!!!#there are things about myself that will mever be described by language and that's good i think #i think that's the same for most people. we are too complex and we should learn to find beauty and celebration in that

31 notes · View notes

ferretwhomst · 5 months

Text

hey did you know? *queerplatonics your stanchez*

yes i am projecting btw

#i keep getting into specific ships and being like “hmm i like this pairing but idk if i see them as romanticcc..."#like yes girl there is a word for it #speaking of which back in that era they probably wouldnt have had words to describe stuff like qp attraction #so as far as they're concerned the two of them are just friends who really like making out LMFAOO #rick and morty #gravity falls #rick sanchez #flesh curtains rick #stan pines #mullet stan #stanchez #ferret's art

42 notes · View notes

omgwhatchloe · 1 month

Text

everytime someone tags my fav only for them to not even be in the post and it was just for reach, i die a little inside.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption two #red dead fandom #looking at you x reader blogs #some x reader blogs #why you tagging random characters #then theyre not even in the story #like why i have i just read all these words #describing ur self insert thinking im bout to see my fav but then i dont #like im here for sean not elizabeth raindrops glitter cooloutlaw who everyone has a crush on *insert unique last name*#sorry

22 notes · View notes

rui-drawsbox · 3 months

Note

In the hopes it doesn't sound weird for me to say: You feel like someone with a big heart

Not just in a "Haha simp" way, but someone who loves and cries and laughs with very real sincerity, be it for everyone to see or just on the inside... I could be wrong, but should I be even remotely accurate, promise me not to lose that energy. The world needs you more than you know

Stfu anon you're gonna get me gigly n shi *gay hand gesture*

#highlight of my day tbh. and I've been awake for like two hours #that was actually very sweet of you anon never change #bad moment to think in images i have no words to describe my feelings yay #just know that i appreciate that very much‼️#The 'haha simp' made me laugh ngl JDBFKSK #of course the world needs me‼️ there's no one who can do same stuff i do because there's not two me‼️#which makes me very confident agaisnt ai 'art' because the machine could never replicate whatever is going in my head♪#(ai could never replace me. what is replacing are work opportunities for real artists lolnt)#rui thinks loudly #screenshoting this a saving in the special folder of my gallery btw

25 notes · View notes

azoosepted · 3 months

Text

i must draw bl don x kurokumo ishmael yuri i must draw bl don x kurokumo ishmael yuri i must draw bl don x kurokumo ishmael yuri i must [dies]

#nothing more gay than dueling eachother in a turf war amirite or amirite #“Ishmael began to notice a pattern.”#“Surely enough / the bright eyed Salsu always found her way to her / as if she were seeking out Ishmael specifically.”#“Their blades would always find themselves clashing against each other / no matter the place and time of conflict.”#“For whatever reason / Ishmael began to anticipate their duels.”#“She began to eagerly await each battle between the Kurokumo Clan and the Blade Lineage.”#“And when a fight erupted / Ishmael would scan the crowd for the petite swordswoman.”#“It was only a matter of time before she’d inevitably show up / dashing in with her blade in hand.”#“And then a long / lengthy / and passionate duel would be had between the two.”#“Only a few thousand duels later / and raised eyebrows (as well as questioning) from Heathcliff did Ishmael realize:”#“She had stopped attempting to purposefully harm her opponent.”#“It was certainly odd / Ishmael had to admit. The way she found herself lost in the swordswoman’s eyes…”#“Or the way she felt almost dizzy looking at the swordswoman’s smile… 'Cute' had been a word Ishmael used to describe that grin—”#“Which had earned her a couple of raised eyebrows from her clanmates (and in Rodya’s case / a snicker.)”#“It was surely nothing though / Ishmael thought to herself / as she gripped the hilt of her katana.”#“Another battle was about to break out / after all…”#“And she could worry about the implications of the sensations she feels when fighting against that particular somebody afterwards.”#if i had a nickel for wvery time i hijacked the tags to write an entire minific #id have two nickels #which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it happened twice #anzu says shit #ishdon #limbus company #project moon #lcb ishmael #lcb don quixote

18 notes · View notes

nevesmose · 1 month

Text

Perturabo was silent for a long time, his attention completely focused on the disassembled objects spread out before him.

"No, Fulgrim," he said eventually. "I am not fun at parties. Why do you ask?"

The Primarch of the III Legion smiled. "No reason in particular. I merely wondered if you'd like to take advantage of so many of the family being close by."

Fulgrim stepped away from Perturabo's worktable, elegantly avoiding the discarded parchments and empty grey plastek sprues littering the room.

"Goodnight then, brother. I shall leave you to your..." he paused briefly, for once unable to find the right word. "Figurines," he finished.

"They're miniatures," the Lord of Iron said bitterly. Fulgrim gave the briefest of shrugs and left the room.

Oh, Perturabo, he thought fondly as his brother's door slid closed. Don't ever change.

"I told you he'd say no," a rough, low voice called from further down the hallway. "If it was anyone but you he would've started throwing things."

"Very comforting, Ferrus." The two primarchs walked together for a few moments in a close, pleasant silence. With anyone else Fulgrim would have found the quiet oppressive, felt the need to speak, to act, to perform in some way.

It had never been like that with Ferrus, and in his introspective moments he treasured that quiet as something uniquely theirs.

"How goes the process of civilising our newest brother?" Ferrus asked.

Oh, Konrad, Fulgrim thought. Please change, even just a bit.

"He has been a challenge," Fulgrim admitted. "More so than I expected."

"Really?" Ferrus asked, amused. "I thought you relished a challenge."

"Not this one," Fulgrim answered. "Have you ever considered the logistics of bathing a fellow Primarch?"

"I could be persuaded," Ferrus said.

Fulgrim gave him a pointed look. "Not like that. I mean someone of our size and strength who adamantly refuses to even consider basic hygiene. And our father wants me to turn this... being into a capable leader of his own Legion."

Fulgrim sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"At the moment it's a miracle if he sleeps through the night without some kind of outburst. His latest development is wandering the corridors to scream at every mortal he sees about the exact time and nature of their deaths."

"You must be tired."

Fulgrim laughed bleakly. "Tired," he said, as if it were some arcane alien concept. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Come in, then." Seemingly without intending to, they'd arrived in the hallway outside Ferrus's chambers.

"The Gorgon of Medusa invites me to his quarters," Fulgrim said archly. "People will talk. What scurrilous rumours they might spread."

Ferrus shrugged. "Let them."

The room was cool, sparsely lit and, with the exception of Forgebreaker in pride of place on a wall rack, minimally furnished. The opposite of his own in every possible way, but at times like this Fulgrim found the contrast refreshing.

Ferrus flung himself down onto a primarch-scaled couch as Fulgrim's gaze was drawn to the incongruous sight of a rectangular open-topped frigerator unit containing ice and several glass vessels.

"And what might this be?"

"Oh, that," Ferrus said. "One of the latest archaeo-tech recreations based on analysing residues from ancient Terran artefacts. It's an alcoholic drink somehow brewed with crystals."

Fulgrim took a single delicate sip and wrinkled his nose slightly.

"Apparently it was extremely popular on old Earth, but only for a very short time before something else replaced it. Magnus would be able to tell you more."

"I imagine he would," Fulgrim said, turning his attention back to Ferrus. "But with the greatest of respect to the Primarch of the Fifteenth, I don't particularly care about Magnus just now."

For a long moment neither of them said anything. Then Ferrus slid back on the couch, legs parted, and patted a hand on the seat just in front of him.

"Come on, sit down."

Fulgrim quirked an eyebrow.

"Did I stutter, Phoenician? Sit down. You need to relax."

"If you insist," Fulgrim said. He moved to sit cross-legged in the space between Ferrus's legs. After a moment's hesitation, he leaned his full weight back against Ferrus.

"There you go," Ferrus said, starting to run his hands through Fulgrim's long hair. "You don't have to be perfect every single moment of the day."

"Perhaps," Fulgrim replied, closing his eyes. "But then what would I be instead?"

What is this called, he wondered, sudden and cold. What are we doing? The idea threatened to ruin everything if he dwelt on it. To ruin this, whatever it was that he and Ferrus had.

We're Primarchs, he thought. There isn't any existing human word or concept for what we are or choose to be, other than what we decide for ourselves. Like the first ancients naming the stars.

A single cool metal finger poked him gently in the back of the head. "You're thinking," Ferrus said. "I can tell."

"Congratulations. I knew if you saw other people do it you'd eventually start to recognise the signs," Fulgrim replied without any real malice, tilting his head back as Ferrus's hands resumed their movement through his hair.

He felt Ferrus's chest move behind him as he laughed. "You wound me, Fulgrim. I'll withdraw from society to weep and write poetry."

"Anything but your poetry, I beg of you," Fulgrim said quietly. "The galaxy isn't ready for that level of pain and suffering."

14 notes · View notes

psalmsofpsychosis · 12 days

Text

real talk though; if i could surgically remove the Bruce & Alfred scenes out of Gotham TV and make an entire separate Batman project out of them i would, because they're so distinctly different from the rest of the show and from the common Batman comic narratives, it floors me everytime. If we take the whole show as a body, the heart is placed in Bruce Wayne and it bleeds into his relationships with people, but most importantly with Alfred. It's such stark and exciting constrast to how Batman comics generally portray Bruce Wayne or the Batman persona; Gotham!Bruce is so tender and bare and transparent, heart beating and bleeding so close to his skin, you can see when it taints through his shirt, and his moments of absolute irrational sentimentality are not played cheap or like missteps in a planned protocol rational persona, they're utterly sincere and every emotion he expresses is as integral to his character as his moments of analytical calculation.

#like it's just so incredibly fascinating to me; how different and distinct Gotham TV's approach to Bruce Wayne was #Every Other Tuesday Morning Batman Comic: Batman is a cool and detached guy who is occasionally plagued by 2.5 emotions #that he beats himself up about in private and beats criminals in public about at 3am #and then he doesn't feel emotions for the next 35 years #Gotham TV: Bruce throws Alfred out of Wayne Manor in two separate occasions and then runs back and kisses his shiny shoes and cries #and holds him and kisses his templeand serenades a fucking love letter to him the Waynes' charity gala saying Alfred is the man who made hi #Like. godddd Gotham Alfred and Bruce are so desperate for each other as each other's purpose and meaning #Alfred has wholly dissolved into Bruce's narrative to the point that Bruce fucking kills him and he smiles and accepts and adores Bruce #as Bruce drives a sword right through his heart. like YEP THAT'S SOMETHING THAT HAPPENED!!!!#and the English language doesn't have words for me to describe with the way Alfred soothes and holds the Brainwashed Bruce #as he tries to get him back. the tears and the ''i love you; i love you''s #the same ''i love you''s that Bruce cries by his hospital bed after he slices through him #hashtag never forget how insane Gotham TV was!!!!!#not the most intelligent or well executed Batman media but ohhhhhhh boy; the most tender hearted one indeed!#Gotham TV #Bruce Wayne #Batman

11 notes · View notes

orbdotexe · 15 days

Text

Under pressure and request from both Osiris and Shin Malphur, Drifter seeks out the Young Wolf early in their exile. He's not sure he'd say it went well, but it certainly could've gone much, much worse. And hey; Shin was right, new friends are new friends. Alternatively: Two rogue Guardians play horse plinko with each other before agreeing to an exchange of favors.

I finally did it- A Questionably Fortunate Encounter's rewrite. I have no idea how I got the motivation to finish this, it wasn't even half done when I picked it back up, but here it is in time for TFE's (concept's) 2nd birthday! I am significantly happier with this than the original, you have no idea. It wasn't even a thousand words and now it's like 20 words from being 2k, and overall? Everything just has more character + an extra page of interaction and the end note being from Ghost instead of Drifter. and being accurate to more story details! I kept a lot of the parts i thought were funny tho, if moved them around-

[old ver. ao3] --- [new ver. ao3]

The Sundial. A ballsy idea from a mad warlock.

Knocking a few times on the side, he can’t help the chills down his spine at the whispers ringing in his ears. “If you short-circuit the universe, you’re on your own.” He snips, his already uneasy grin wavering.

“If I make a mistake here, you might cease to exist,” the old Warlock says simply, though there’s a questioning edge to it.

Drifter only shrugs. “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad.”

Osiris squints at him as Drifter moves around the machine, checking the stability. “We haven’t talked about payment.”

Drifter’s grin smooths out some, sly now. “If you live through this little experiment, you can be sure I’ll be back to collect.”

A simple ‘hm’ is the only response he gets for a few seconds, before Osiris starts again.

“There’s a Guardian you should meet.”

“Yeah, yeah, so I’ve heard. Some bigshot—Can’t wait.”

"Drifter."

—

The Warlock and that old Hunter had their points—The Young Wolf needed people on their side, and it's not like Drifter couldn't use the opportunity. He figured, if worst comes to worst, just say Osiris sent him. It seemed the best bet; he heard the two of them had been on good terms, and Osiris wouldn’t have sent him without reason.

This was, regardless, a horrible idea.

Which was very quickly weighing him down as he waited just inside their most recent hideout; a willing, sitting duck in the path of a hellhound. Then again, Shin would be waiting for him, just the same, to see if he really went through with it. A rock and a hard place, if both were unmovable walls.

—

Eventually, the Kingbreaker did show up—and they looked pissed—but they didn't seem to quite notice him, yet.

Their Ghost, on the other hand, had stopped at the door, and was switching between glaring at him, and watching its Guardian. It was a bare hope, but he almost prayed for the Little Light to let the Guardian notice him by themself—for what good it would do.

Drifter had to admit, though, they looked like Hell—In both the shit way and the eternal punishment way—And he'd quite like to keep them from being his punishment, thanks.

They were never in the same place for long, constantly tapping their fingers or wringing their hands. He'd almost call it a nervous habit; if the jerky, almost corpse-twitching movements didn't make him feel like they'd pounce on him at any given moment. It gave the distinct impression of a Taken, a fact he took no comfort in. He had told Shin they would be unpredictable, but recordings didn’t capture just how much.

The Guardian’s posture was rather slumped, in spite of their twitchiness, but he was rather certain he was a pinch taller than them; though it could be their hunch. That dead-eyed and bone-deep tiredness that seeped off of them… The Guardian stumbled whenever they walked, off-balance. Injured, maybe.

They looked as unstable on their feet as he imagined they were mentally.

He rapped his fingers on the tabletop he was leaning against, a slight knot in his stomach building on the question of ‘How to get their attention without getting pinned as a threat?’

Questionably fortunate enough, and probably should’ve been expected; the tapping made them pause, and he'd almost compare the frozen movement to their namesake freezing to listen. They nearly looked like they'd been caught doing something they shouldn't be, or as if a sudden red dot (or dozen) had appeared on their chest.

The Young Wolf then snapped to look at him, eyes narrowed and hand beginning to raise to their sword. Their Ghost noticed, and took it as a sign to speak up; "What do you think you’re doing here? Who are you?" For being the Ghost of an exile, its voice was strikingly uptight. Drifter had expected an edge to the voice, but not for it to be pedant.

"Mind your business, Ghost," he drawled. Their head jolted up a fraction. "Just want a talk with your Guardian, is all-"

Their Ghost flicked back a bit, only to be replaced by its Guardian stepping up close to him. Well… he got their attention, at least.

His gut twisted in knots as the seconds passed like that—far, far too close for comfort. "How about we just… back up for a moment, yeah? Think this all through?" Like he hadn’t. He should have told that Warlock and Shin to shove their requests back down their throats.

The Guardian tilted their head, the action more unnerving than anything else, reminding Drifter of a certain other Hunter, and he was unsure if it was an acknowledgement or a threat. They refused to look anywhere but his eyes, and he swore they leaned a bit closer.

He raises his hands to push them back a bit, but thinks better of touching them. He opts to just slide back a bit, instead– except they match his step. He does not take another one. That definitely wasn't good.

"I'll ask again: Who are you?" The Ghost hovers over its Guardian’s shoulder as they tilt their head to allow it to take the center of Drifter’s vision. Their dynamic is clear, but he tries to focus on them.

"Your old man Osiris didn't mention me?” Drifter tries to say, “I’m hurt–”

"You will be hurt–" the Ghost starts, just as the Guardian grips his collar. There’s a moment the Drifter is almost certain they were going to slam him into the wall.

"Alright, alright—” he tries to interrupt, “Just back up.”

It takes them a moment, and a couple glances between him and the Ghost, but they do back up, if not letting go of his collar. He tries to quietly let out the breath he’d been holding, nerves a bit strung. Their emotions are as on-a-dime as he thought. Damn this plan. The Ghost eyes him expectantly.

"You can call me Drifter; I run a little… operation outta the Tower." Their face somehow pulls even further in a grimace. “Now, I know how that sounds, but I’m not working with the Vanguard—Trust. Wouldn’t be here if I was: Heard about your… dislike of ‘em.”

He gives them a grin when they don’t make another move, though not optimistic. Watching every little change in their expression doesn’t give him much hope, either, given the hard line in their brow now.

"That old Phoenix of yours pointed me your way, and I figured we both could make use of the others'... skills. I've got the connections, and you've guts enough to attack your own–”

The Drifter hardly has time to blink before his back is against the wall again, this time with a knife to his throat, sharp eyes glaring down at him—So it's like that. Osiris might've downplayed the sore spot; Drifter can’t even get away with a tease. He’s good at pushing buttons, but their reservations broke immediately.

He counts by the seconds as the Young Wolf silently dares him to say it again.

While he decidedly opts not to and tries to think of a way to de-escalate his mistake, he has… an inane thought: They’re taller than him… Not by too much, but the thought gives him an idea potentially worse than even the meeting itself was; something mischievous glinting in his eye and, as an added bonus, giving the Guardian pause.

"...Kinky." Feeling their hold loosen somewhat and seeing their brow twitch, Drifter pushes the joke with a sly grin and a cant to the side. “I didn’t realize you swung like that, Killer…”

Drifter’s eyes flick towards the Ghost at the undoubtably horrified, near-static chiming it makes as it rapidly recoils. “Are you… trying to flirt your way out of this–”

The Guardian’s expression seems of someone entirely bewildered by a puzzle in front of them. As they loosened their hold in what he could only assume was disbelief, Drifter had to stop himself from laughing—in relief, at the absurdity, or at their reaction.

“Nahh… Just seizing an opportunity, you’d understand,” he says, as nonchalantly as he can manage. There’s a moment of silence, the Guardian and their Ghost both searching his face, and it's everything he can do not to break—Either into a sweat or into a fit of laughter.

"...what the hell is wrong with you?" is the only response he got from the Ghost, the top fold of its shell covering half its eye. Drifter can only assume it's meant to be a mimicry of a dead-stare.

"Many things!” He gives a toothy grin that splits his face as he chuckles, “Next question."

The Ghost makes a show of rolling its eye, while the Guardian still looks like their mind has shattered, eyes seeming to search the wall through him for answers. The Ghost seems to take notice of its Guardian’s… inoperable state, and pipes up again, terse, “So what do you want?”

He’s really going to have to cut a deal with the Ghost, instead, isn’t he? As Drifter slowly tugs the Guardian’s hand from his collar—which they thankfully do not resist—he gives the Ghost the greasiest side-eye he can manage. “Well, as I was saying before your Guardian interrupted me,” it mimics narrowing its eye as he speaks. “I hear you two need friends, and, well, I’m always looking for more of those.”

“Just get to the point,” the Ghost pushes, tone flat. The Guardian seems to only vaguely be paying attention.

“Them and I could both use the support, so I suggest an… exchange.”

“An exchange? What is that– You mean, glimmer?” The Ghost interrupts itself with flicking its shell around itself and letting out a short chirr. “Information? We have nothing you’d want in that.”

“Nah, I don’t want any of that. If anything, I’m offering—You two just gotta do some favors for me in return. How’s that sound?” At the mention of favors, the Guardian refocuses; eyes widening some before narrowing and scanning him in search of some catch. “Just a job or two; you scratch my back, I scratch yours, yeah? Nothing you wouldn’t already do, of course.”

At the skeptical, almost blank looks from both of them, Drifter’s grin tightens some. “Favor for favor make sense to you?” He’s tempted to ask if they’ve got cotton in their ears. The pair take a long glance at each other, and he can only see the slight twitching in both’s expressions.

“...And how do we know we can trust you?” Finally comes an answer, again from the Ghost, but one that’s more assuring than it probably should be.

“Your old man asked me here, didn’t I say? I wouldn't risk this without a good word.” That, or without Shin over his shoulder. He turns his eye back to its Guardian and offers them a hand, “So, whaddya say? Give it a shot, hotshot?”

The Ghost trills in some semblance of worry as the Guardian cautiously eyes him and his hand, body canted away from him, before hesitantly taking his hand. Their hold is slight and feels like they would rather writhe away from him, but they hold just long enough to shake his hand.

“Heyy, don’t be like that, now. Friends take care of friends, yeah? Trust.” The Guardian grimaces at his words. Maybe that odd adage of insects had a bit more truth to it than he realized.

They’re more scared of you than you are of them?

—

Hours later, the Drifter far gone, and his Guardian was still kind of distracted. Honestly, Ghost would be lying if he said he wasn’t mind-broke by that as well. Who, in any sane state of mind, would do any of that? Sneak into an ill exile’s hideout, startle and piss them off, and then try to make a deal?

And why did it… actually work?

Ghost must be losing it.

#idk the pacing might be slightly off still in some places but i like it!#i could hardly stand to read the old version anymore so being able to compare them side by side? im not very easy on myself about these #things but. DAMN ive gotten a lot better huh #i would probably delete the old ver but. idk people might like something in there that i didnt put in this ver so itll stay up #the forsaken exile #destiny 2 #anyway yeah im very asleep as this is being posted bc i scheduled it for the minute discord says that message was originally sent #so like. 5:54am. and i dont have to get up at that time tomorrow so im... just not lmao #god. ive been brainrotting about an exile timeline for Destiny for two years...#i am actually ill i think. NOT sane behavior #but hey! i wouldve never gotten back into writing after not touching it since like. early middle school or smth (?? honestly dont remember)#if not for this AU. beloved #im not sure words can describe how important this thing is to me. aaaaaaaaaaaaa #eepy and getting sappy now. time to shut up!!!#anyway yeah Shin knew (or. thought he knew. its *Shin*) Drifter would get attached. the old snake fell for #the oldest trick in the book (forced exposure -> eventually friendly)#(Shin did not consider that thats not really how that works but thats okay)#i feel i should clarify. bc there isnt really much of a way to tell-- Osiris talks to Drifter first. and THEN Shin talks to him.#we be havin canon lore problems now huh...

16 notes · View notes