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#me and my need to write so much
officialspec · 2 months
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modern au but set in brisbane. is this anything
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glo-shroom · 2 months
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yes & no by Natalie Wee | Trigun Ultimate Overhaul
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bread-that-draws · 1 year
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Flowey’s so funny and has me so fucked up like he’s a talking flower. He tries to kill you upon your first interaction. He is ten years old. He is damaged beyond repair. He’s a flower named Flowey. He’s become friends with every single character. He’s killed all of them countless times. He knows everything about everyone. He doesn’t care anymore. He takes care of his mom when she can’t take care of herself. He’s killed her before. He doesn’t care if you kill her. He thinks she’s trying to replace him. He just wants to be himself again. He wants to destroy everything. He hates you. You’re the only one who understands him. He wants his best friend back. He’s terrified of them. He believes in kill or be killed because he died by giving mercy to the wrong person. He believes himself to be the wrong person. He doesn’t understand when you show him that kindness he showed others, even when you know he could kill you for it. He’s tried every route. He asks you if you have anything better to do when you try to do the same. He’s a direct reflection of the player. He’s a fucking talking flower named flowey and his only voice line is by Ronald McDonald and his officially licensed plush does a little dance for you
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emo-batboy · 6 months
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A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)
Part 43 (Masterlist)
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(Part 44)
Me, to myself: I just think the series was better when I posted several times a week because the pacing felt more natural, and it translates better when people binge it.
Also Me, holding two jobs and a bat: If you try to post once a day again, I will disconnect your head from your shoulders—
@bruciemilf guess who’s back
Anyways, folks! :D So I'm thinking of a new upload schedule where I spend a bit preparing the next ten or so parts then post it all in two weeks? I think that would be fun (and much better for my creative process.)
I’ll be posting the next part very soon :) But it's going to be drastically different from what I've done before. Let’s see if anyone can guess why.
Yada yada don’t die LOVE Y’ALL
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blaackbiird · 2 months
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personally I don't think people lean enough into the fact that Lucifer could fucking demolish Alastor without breaking a sweat. There's too many fics where Alastor's threats scare Lucifer and like what??
I love their antagonistic relationship. I love the idea of their rivalry, of them needling each other and pushing each other to break composure. I love the idea that Lucifer is emotional and easily annoyed/pissed off and Alastor loves playing off that.
But if Alastor ever genuinely threatened Lucifer? There's no way Lucifer would take that seriously, or lying down. Of course he'd put Alastor in his place if he ever actually needed to.
I need more fics of Alastor attempting to threaten Lucifer, or pushing Lucifer too far, and then learning exactly why he's the king of Hell.
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orobty · 1 year
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Let them be sofftttt
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lemonduckisnowawake · 6 months
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You know, it's a tragedy that there are no (or very little) Vampire x Christian stories out there, not for angst or theology or forbidden seductiveness or whatnot but for the sheer comedy of it all. I mean, the Christian would technically be immune to all of the vampire's shenanigans, like for example...
Vampire: Fool, I am the most powerful vampire in the West. Nothing but the force of an entire holy temple could even deign to scratch me Christian: Idiot, I AM a holy temple. 1 Corinthians 6:19, fear me and the Spirit inside that can burn you to ashes
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toytulini · 9 months
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listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.
yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?
maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".
get a better joke
#toy txt post#god im going to regret this post im gonna regret it so much i can feel it in my bones#let it flop..........pls#internalize my message let it sink in and understand what i am saying and then let the post flop#i say. knowing the ppl who need to see such a message are the ones who will make me regret this post and regrwt not having#1 million bajillion disclaimers#virgin is in quotes bc its a bullshit made up stupid purity culture concept anyway and quite frankly i hate even seeing the word#disclaimer: the previous sentence is not me saying that it is a slur for asexuals. it is me a single individual saying this specific word#grosses me out to read and see everywhere when its a stupid bullshit binary made up or at least historically largely used#to shame largely women and i dont know why we're still using it in 2023#and ive just been. seeing such an uptick in this whole like. attitude? lately and like#im ace im minorly sex repulsed. mostly about anything sex at me bad. other adults sex at each other consensually? go wild#i like to think im pretty chill about it. i try to be. i think its fine ig to be like 'my meat is huge i fuck so much so good'#like okay not my thing but good for you. love that for you#but then some of yall have started turning it back around back to. 'haha your meat so small and shriveled you get no bitches'#'haha stupid incel virgin' like okay. didnt realize we all went back to fucking. middle school but okay#god im gonna run out of tine to get ready for my thing writing this stupid post UGH evil#but like idk we've kinda circled back to being like haha being a virgin still is stupid and silly and shameful#and if im quite honest. i do think the acecourse played a part in that bc i felt like we were making good progress in like#hey guys is fine to not have sex ever if you dont want to its fine to not want sex its fine#and then aphobes went fucking rabid on us and splintered and destroyed online communities all over but especially on tumblr#and so many aces went back in the closet we stopped talking about it we stopped spreading awareness and now this stupid goddamn like#and now this stupid bullshit attitude is back where its like funny to call someone a virgin as an insult but like no bro trust me its okay#its okay for me to do it bc im a hot queer person with huge meat instead of a cisstraight frat bro with huge meat#? like you know the issue was the behavior right? not the fact that it was straight dudes saying it? its bc the thing being said was shitty?#you know you can dunk on the puritan bitches trying to police your behavior at pride without getting us as collateral damage right#stop making me read that stupid ugly ass word ur not cool or funny#whatever#if you come on to this post to start shit i will not only block you but as many of your mutuals and followers as i can find. i will scroll#i will block this entire fucking website if i need to do not test me. i am exhausted and the acecourse ate up all my tolerance in 2015.
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stevebabey · 1 year
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no one asked but this is the post that inspired this! thank u immensely for the luv <3 number 1 comment was wondering what steve’s bids were & from his pov, so without further ado...enjoy — part one here!
Begrudgingly, Eddie has to admit that Robin might be right.
It’s impossible not to be looking for the bids since he brought them up to her. Even though Eddie was fully expecting to tell Robin to suck it, maybe even wager what little money he had against this working out, Eddie can’t help but watch for them in every interaction. And fuck, she’s right.
They’re little, but they’re there.
The first one Eddie would’ve missed if he wasn’t looking for it. Actually, that’s a lie; Eddie does miss it, until Robin points it out, the nosy bitch. It’s minuscule and honestly, it just seems like Steve asking his opinion — which friends do all the time! It’s why Eddie brushes right over it.
“Okay, be honest,“ Steve had said, walking and talking as he entered the living room where Robin and Eddie were sprawled across the couches. They were both waiting on him, the three of them set on heading out to the drive-in to catch a film.
Eddie can’t fathom why Steve felt the need to change his outfit for it, but when he returns, he gets it. It’s not quite the usual polo Eddie had grown to like on Steve, this one hanging a little looser, the colour a bit darker than Steve’s usual choice, the sleeves a little shorter — almost midway to a muscle tee.
Steve’s fingers fiddle with the distressed collar of the shirt, smoothing invisible wrinkles and fussing over nothing. He swishes back his floppy hair with a flick of his head. “It’s a new shirt, I know it’s a little different - but what do we think?”
He says we but he’s looking at Eddie.
Eddie, who has taken to trying to reel in his gawp because what the fuck Steve? It’s like he’s well aware of what drives Eddie insane and has specifically leaned into it. Some evil goblin in Eddie’s brain whispers think how good he’d look in your shirt and he squashes it, giving a visible twitch to shut down that train of thought.
From the other couch, Robin clears her throat loudly and smiles sweetly at her best friend. “It looks great, Steve.”
It’s sincere and Steve’s mouth tugs up, nearly a smile but his gaze fast-tracks back to Eddie. Eddie nods in agreement, a bit sluggish from his distracting thoughts and god dammit, the extra exposed skin of Steve’s arms are so not helping. “Yeah, looks... looks good, man.”
Steve smiles, lips pressed together but his shoulders curl in just a bit, deflating just a tad. From where Steve can’t see her, Robin waves her hands wildly and catches Eddie’s attention. He watches as she gestures wildly and it takes a moment to realise what’s she mouthing — ‘A bid! That’s a bid, you idiot!’
Oh fuck, Eddie thinks. Cos it totally was; the question, the focus on Eddie. He doesn’t even think about the logistics of it, of the fact Robin was right, just jumps right into picking up the bid.
“You trying a new style?” Eddie asks and then thanks whatever god invented the whole fake-it-to-you-make-it schtick because he’s feeling so far from casual or confident. “Going metal on me, big boy?”
Eddie just manages to catch the grin that breaks across Steve’s face as he turns away, giving a scoff — it comes out too soft though, giving away his complete lack of annoyance. He pulls that usual Steve Harrington pose, hands sliding onto his hips, and screws his face into some melted smiley-grimace. “Shut up, Munson.”
Eddie grins and goads on the blush that’s beginning on Steve’s neck, a glorious tinged pink colour. “If this shirt is any indication, you’d pull it off just fine.”
Eddie watches the blush climb higher as Steve ignores the comment, his smile still giving him away. He grabs his coat and pats down his jeans — ridiculous tight acid wash jeans that Eddie hates he’s somehow become attracted to — ensuring he has his keys and wallet. Once assured, he looks up at his two friends again, brows raised, and says, “Ready to rock and roll?”
That comment alone has Eddie seriously reconsidering his type in men.
There’s only a brief moment to talk about it when Eddie and Robin cajole Steve into going and getting them both popcorn to get a moment alone. Steve had scoffed, face twitching in the way it did whenever he tried to hold back a bitchy comment, but he still stomped off in the direction of the snack stand.
The moment he’s out of earshot, both voices explode in the back of Eddie’s van.
“What did I say—”
“Jesus H Christ, you were right—”
“Literally how many times do I have—”
“Oh my god, you were right—”
“ —before you realise I’m always—”
“Robin.” He cuts her off, hands landing on her shoulders. Robin eyes them warily, lips still parted from how her rant had been cut off. “Robin, I’m gonna kill you.”
“What?” Robin’s nose scrunches up. “What the hell are you—”
“Oh Christ, I can’t believe- how long have you noticed those bids?” Eddie’s aware he sounds a bit estranged, eyes probably wide and it doesn’t help when he softly shakes Robin back and forth. She lets herself be shaken, hair flying back in forth. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me! You are such a bad gay friend!”
Robin smacks his hands off her shoulders with a frown, her freckly face perturbed at Eddie’s outburst. “Dude, it’s not my fault! May I remind you that until very very recently you were seeing someone else? What difference would it have made?”
Eddie waves his hand, disregarding the point with a shake of his head. His unkempt curls cover his face and Eddie sweeps them back in one motion, “What difference would it have made? Oh my, Jesus—“
Whatever long-winded sentence Eddie was about to spit out is lost by the sound of Steve’s approaching footsteps, effectively shutting both of them up.
Eddie flings himself to the other side of the van, putting an unusual amount of distance between Robin and him like they were being caught doing something they shouldn’t.
Robin frowns at him and gestures wildly with her hands in a way that means what the fuck man? Eddie gestures back, though he’s not entirely sure what his fast hand motions are supposed to mean when Steve rounds the door.
He’s got two buckets of popcorn tucked under each arm and Eddie quickly crosses his arms, tucking his hands into his armpits like his stupid hand motions will somehow give him away. 
Steve looks up, stopping just a way from the edge of the van, and looks at the pair of them. His eyes track from Robin still sitting on one of the old cushions and looking two seconds from burying her face in her hands, across to Eddie. He huffs a laugh and kneels on the edge of the van.
“I know he’s gross Robin,” He begins, tone light, as he holds out one of the buckets for Robin to take. “But c’mon, is the distance really necessary?”
Robin snickers as Eddie makes an appalled noise, both of which make Steve smirk. He holds out the other for Eddie to take and Eddie snatches it, glaring at him over the buttery rim for his comment. Then takes a handful and shovels it in because he can’t think of a witty comment to retaliate. Steve crawls into the van and plops himself between them with a content sigh.
“See? Gross.” He teases, shoving his hand into Eddie’s popcorn bucket to grab a handful. Eddie scowls and chews a little faster when the flavour on his tongue seems to register in his brain.
His eyes stare at the popcorn bucket as he chews, then swallows — up the front of the van, the radio that’s tuned into the correct frequency begins playing the opening credits song as the screen changes. Silence sweeps across the drive-in but despite the sudden hush, Eddie has no qualms about breaking it.
“Sweet n’ salty flavour?” He asks Steve, only half attempting a whisper. Robin shushes him instantly, her focus already on the movie that’s beginning. Steve smiles, looking a bit sheepish beneath the glow of the drive-in screen, but he nods.
“I know you like it.” He whispers with a small shrug of his shoulders. Like it wasn’t a big deal. Fuck, Eddie thinks again and hastily feeds himself another handful of popcorn before he says anything majorly stupid in response to that, like: Oh, amazing- have you noticed the big fat crush I have on you as well?
He doesn’t even need to look at Robin to know she’s smiling, smug as ever.
Steve, God bless his oblivious little heart, doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.
Steve likes Eddie. Eddie is— god, Eddie is different but he’s good.
He’s this strange amalgamation of traits that Steve can’t comprehend how they fit together in one body or how Eddie manages to pull it all off completely charmingly.
He’s loud, he says rude things, he’s fucking dorky, and far too sweet on the kids — he likes to tease Steve, and yet somehow, when Eddie calls him ‘pretty boy’, Steve knows he’s not actually making fun of him.
Steve likes Eddie, likes his boyishly endearing charm, likes his touchiness towards Steve that no other boy his age is like, likes his messy curls and his ‘holier than thou’ attitude about metal music even though Steve doesn’t get it, like at all. And fuck, Steve really wants Eddie to like him.
It reminds him faintly of when he first started working alongside Robin at Scoops. That thought tickles in the back of his mind, something along the lines of how he had wanted Robin to like him for other reasons, but he doesn’t delve into it.
To Steve, it’s simple: he just wants Eddie to like him.
After the night at the drive-in, between Eddie acting strangely skittish and Robin giving more amused snorts than usual, Steve knows something is up.
He knows they must have discussed something when they sent him on popcorn duty, the bastards. He tries his best to not feel left out; god knows Robin and he have more than a dozen secrets they’ve sworn not to tell anyone but each other.
Besides, Steve trusts Robin to come and tell him if he really needs to know, even if it does worry him a bit. He bites down his anxious thoughts, even trying for a moment to see if there’s a pattern he’s been missing.
That train of thought gets derailed when Steve recalls instead Eddie’s delightful reaction to his new shirt — that Steve definitely hadn’t bought for that specific reason.
Even though Robin had given him that look when he’d first shown it to her — her bright eyes had narrowed, her smile turning a little more coy, and Steve had felt his ears get a little hotter. She hadn’t said anything though, just suggested that he should wear it tomorrow night when they were going out with Eddie.
God, he was glad she suggested it.
Rewinding over Eddie’s parted lips, the way his brown eyes had drank in the details as they trailed up his body and lingered on his arms— Steve had the sudden thought to flex the muscle, just to elicit some reaction, but it had gone out the window at Eddie’s original dismal reaction.
‘Yeah, looks... looks good, man’. Said all aloof, like he hadn’t really thought it. It was like bursting a balloon hidden behind Steve’s ribs, one he wasn’t even aware was there until it was deflating pathetically, making his shoulders sag.
Then— ‘You trying a new style? Going metal on me, big boy?’ And dammit, it’s like Eddie had clocked exactly what calling him ‘big boy’ had done the first time in the Winnebago.
Eddie had then grinned, done another once over of the new shirt, even as Steve pretended to search for his keys and wallet while saying something snarky to try to cover up the heat crawling up his neck. Yet, Steve found himself smiling too because, fuck yes, Eddie liked it too.
But, apparently, whatever Eddie and Robin had discussed wasn’t considered important enough because Robin never brought it up.
The thought and worry about it melt away in Steve’s mind until the memory of that night is about Eddie’s compliment, about his cat-like grin over the popcorn bucket, and how he had leaned over to whisper every bad joke into Steve’s ear all through the movie.
Some of them had been down-right filthy jokes which Eddie only seemed to enjoy more when Steve screwed his face up and nudged Eddie in the ribs, yet unable to hide his smile.
After the third vulgar joke and subsequent nudge, Steve had chided ‘dude’ with a poorly hidden grin. Eddie, smile all cheeky, had nudged him back with a ‘dude’ of his own.
Which, of course, ensued a nudge competition til Robin had given a shush that librarians all over the world would be jealous of. But Steve didn’t even care because he and Eddie were arm to arm, pressed close together and Eddie…didn’t move. Stayed close, like he wanted the closeness the same way Steve did.
Steve only remembers the strange drive-in moment when Robin brings it up finally, on one interesting Saturday night.
It’s not the usual routine; it’s not very often that the whole group gets together to share drinks and get rowdy.
But it was for Robin’s birthday and she’d been persuasive enough to get even the introverts, like Jonathan, to come along. Though, she was aware he’d probably spend the night on a pool lounger, stoned to high heaven. Whatever floats your boat, she’d said, happy for the company in any form.
There’s enough of them there that it almost resembles some sort of party— and makes Steve try not to think about the last small party he threw here. He can tell Nancy notices it too, eyeing the pool a bit too long in a way he’s very familiar with, then taking a swig of beer.
So, Steve heckles them inside — doing a fantastic mothering impression as he waves the group indoors with a promise of pizza, and that has both Jonathan and Argyle perking up and beginning a fast discussion on the best pizza toppings.
Eddie makes a fuss, because of course he does, and moans terribly when Steve tries to roll him off the pool lounger he’s on. He’s had a bit of a joint and some beer, and Steve’s learned that he gets adorably stubborn after some substances.
“Stevie, this is mean,” he had pouted, gripping the edges of the lounger and staring up at Steve with those big brown eyes. “You telling me I did all that bonding with you for nothing? Can’t even lounge by the pool! I’ve got a couch at homeeeee.”
Steve had sent him an amused look of disbelief, hands on his hips after his first round of flicks against Eddie’s arm were apparently fruitless to get him to move. “Really? Didn’t peg you for a gold-digger, Eds.”
Eddie had snorted at that, one hand coming to slap over his mouth. Steve couldn’t quite hear what he had said but the words pegging and anytime slipped through and Steve thinks he could get the gist of that.
“Oh for Christ’s sake,” Steve muttered, feeling the tips of his ears turn warm. He didn’t know how Eddie could be such a menace— or why he enjoyed it so much when he was. Steve waved a hand in the direction of the doors, ignoring Eddie’s delighted snickering. “If you go inside now, you can be on music, alright?”
And that had finally got them all indoors, Eddie whooping and skedaddling through the doors in an instant, with a call of ‘no take backsies!’ echoing behind him.
Inside was much cozier, the whole group a little more connected when squished up on the couches together. Eddie had taken Steve’s word and was jamming a cassette into one of the speakers when Steve made it back inside after scouting around the pool for leftover cans and butts to throw out.
He’s just been thinking about what playful jab he could make at Eddie’s music, like Eddie always did to him when Robin hollered at him from the kitchen.
“Steve!” She’d yelled excitedly and he come to find her quick, brows raised as he entered the kitchen. She was grinning, already a bit jumpy as she got when she had a bit of liquor — but apparently not enough because when Steve saw what she’d called him in for, she’d announced, “Tequila shots!”
Which lead to now. A hazy combination of beer, tequila, and a bit of weed, and Steve is feeling good. Robin had managed to hijack the music not too long ago, with a hiccup of ‘it’s my birthday’ that had Eddie surrendering with a pout.
She’d since put on a bit of everything: some Blondie for Nance, Talking Heads for Jonathan, and some Bowie, just so she and Steve could dance along to ‘Magic Dance’ and she could do all the silly little goblin voices that made them both cackle.
Steve realised at some point that Robin was playing their mixtape, the one she’d made for driving in the morning, and nearly tripped stumbling over to her in his excitement. He grabbed her shoulders, not too hard, and squeezed.
“Is it- is this our mixtape?” Steve asked, words slurring only a bit. Robin gleamed, hair bouncing with her excited nod.
“Yes!” She was already dancing, even though the tape was between songs — because she knew what song was coming. “It’s Springsteen time, Steve!”
Right as the drums to Born to Run filtered out the speaker.
And oh, Steve loves Robin so much. He loves having a best friend that knows his favourite song and gets jittery and excited because she knows it’s about to play— that she put it on this mix for him.
“You’re my best friend!” Steve says, the words bursting out like he can’t control them. He doesn’t even feel embarrassed, just happy, just drunk, and overwhelming happy to be able to have this.
And even though Robin knows this, she still beams, feet dancing along and just begins to sing along with the song, “In the days, we sweat it out on the streets of a runaway American dream…”
It’s a brazen drunken performance from the both of them. Steve’s chest is heaving after just one chorus that he’s pretty sure he put his whole soul into and he’s so fucking happy —and it feels like pure instinct to seek out Eddie, his eyes scouring the room for him.
Eddie’s leaned up against the wall, hiding his smile behind a can and Steve doesn’t think twice about it— doesn’t think about why he’s so drawn to Eddie, why he wants to include him in this happiness — just extends his hand out and grins.
Eddie sees the bid coming this time.
Part Three.
— 
yes i saw all ur lovely tags and MAYBE cried about it. but thats none of ur business.
@orangeandthefairroadkill @swimmingbirdrunningrock @sadcanadianwinter @phantypurple @omg-elledubs-things @henderdads @farfaras @mixsethaddams @prismandblue @kerlypride @bushbees @legitcookie @temporalcoffin @callmesirkay @beautifully-useless @millyditty @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @ninjapirateunicorns @darkwitchoferie @vi-the-best-you-can @psychosnowfox @desert-fern @scarletzgo @cr0w-culture @softpink-candlelight @livingforfictionalcharacters @makewavesandwar @kozuuji @rhapsodyinalto @eddiethesexy @cassaloopa @lightwoodbanethings @qu33rcommunist @moonlitkilljoy @starkdusk @theysherobinbuckley @sanguineterrain @loganwright @sillysparrow @hotcocoaharrington @eddie-munson-is-my-wife @she-is-tim @steddiehearts @sideblogofthcentury @sidebarre @corrodedcoughin @stevieclaus
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saetoshi · 11 months
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reo is not above asking for kisses. in fact, he begs for them.
it’s a little embarrassing when you’re out in public, really. the way he tugs at your sleeve, whining because you haven’t kissed him in forever (you kissed him before you left your apartment.)
embarrassingly enough, it’s also why you find yourself hidden away in an alley more often than not with reo pressing a flurry of kisses on your lips.
“reo-” you turn your head to the side, trying to catch your breath. he only hums in response before tilting your head back to keep kissing you.
(you’re starting to think you’re going to pass out from the lack of air.)
“reo!” you hiss, tilting your head up, his lips landing on your chin before he huffs, his hand coming up again to gently push you head down so you’re facing him again.
“jus’ one more.” he mumbles, pressing his lips to yours again with a satisfied hum. (he’s said that for the past fifteen minutes.)
(you think he’s becoming spoiled.)
you pull away, turning your head to the side, biting back a smile when he whines as you place your hand over his lips. a soft, slightly annoyed huff leaves your lips when he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand.
"reo." you sigh, looking at him with a frown. "we're gonna be late."
he frowns back at you.
"nagi's gonna be even more late than us!" his voice comes out muffled due to your hand. you hum in confusion before he slowly grabs your wrist and lowers your hand, repeating his words with a pout.
you sigh, slightly shaking your head, "even if he is, i don't wanna make him wait too long for us."
reo groans, resting his forehead on your shoulder. you absentmindedly lift your hand to pat his head in slight comfort.
"do we really have to go now?" he pouts, lifting his head from your shoulder to look at you.
he whines when you nod. he sniffles, "nagi's probably not even there yet!"
"doesn't matter," you hum, smiling when he huffs and crosses his arms, turning away from you with a frown as he grumbles under his breath.
you gently turn his head back to yours, a teasing smile on your lips. "i thought you'd be more excited to see your best friend?"
"i am." he pouts, "i just don't see why that means i can't kiss you."
"you can." you blink, "it's just embarrassing when you beg me to kiss you in the middle of the street."
he lets out a gasp, "no it isn't!
"for you, maybe!" you laugh, poking his nose. "wouldn't you feel embarrassed if i suddenly stopped you in the middle of a busy street, just to ask for a kiss?"
"no!" he huffs, puffing his cheeks out, looking slightly offended at the accusation, "i'd feel flattered."
you roll your eyes, "yeah, right."
he huffs again after a beat of silence, pouting before he steps back and sighs, "fine. let's get going, then."
"wait," you hum, a mischievous smile on your lips as you grab his shirt and pull him close to you again. "aren't you forgetting something?"
you laugh when his face lights up, his hands cupping your cheeks as he leans in, whispering, "one for the road."
(it was not, in fact, one kiss. he started pressing a flurry of kisses on your lips again.
he's too spoiled, you conclude. still, you can't find it in yourself to stop indulging him.)
(though, you're both embarrassed by the time nagi's spamming your phones with calls, asking why neither of you have arrived at the café yet.)
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luxaofhesperides · 5 months
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We Are Robins meeting to Signal apprehending Danny ; requested by @zylev-blog!
“Hey, Danny. How are you feeling?”
Danny gives Duke a tired smile, his head falling back against the wall. He’s sitting up today, which is good. It’s definitely an improvement from the many days Danny was unable to do much but lie down and grit his teeth through the pain as Duke checked on the gunshot wound. It’s a good thing Danny’s a meta with a healing factor, or nothing Duke could have done would have saved him.
As it is, the wound was severe enough to keep Danny vulnerable and unable to move on his own without making it worse. Though Duke has looked, he hasn’t had any luck in finding whoever did this to Danny. He hasn’t brought it up to the rest of the We Are Robin gang, but only because Danny only let him help if he kept it between the two of them.
What’s another secret? If it lets him stay close to Danny and make sure he’s healing well, then he’ll keep quiet and carry on the search by himself. He’s got plenty of practice in doing things on his own.
“Busy out there?” Danny asks as Duke sits down next to him, dropping his backpack onto the ground. 
“Yeah, it’s tough with the cops after us, but someone needs to help Gotham and with Batman gone…”
A pained expression crossed Danny’s face. Eyeing him carefully, Duke opened his backpack and pulled out a few protein bars and sports drinks for him. Once Danny takes them and began eating one, Duke takes out the first aid kit, always kept at the bottom of the backpack, and sets it in front of Danny.
The most he can do is offer supplies and company at this stage of Danny’s healing. He gets twitchy and tense when Duke tries to tend to his wound, and seems to have plenty of practice in patching himself up. 
He didn’t answer when Duke commented on it once, so Duke let the matter drop. 
Metas may have legal protection, but that doesn’t stop people from targeting them. Duke has no intention of pushing Danny into remembering unpleasant things while he’s already wounded, hiding out in the upper corner of an abandoned warehouse taken over by a group of homeless people. Most aren’t inside during the day, choosing instead to be out with the rest of the city, which leaves them alone. 
Duke keeps an eye on the ground floor of the warehouse, making sure no one comes in while Danny tends to his wound. When he peeks back, he can see that it’s much smaller than it was the night Duke found him, crawling down an alley with one hand clutching his side, tears slipping down his face. There had been so much blood that Duke was sure he had just stumbled upon someone dying and froze, horrified. 
And then a shout down the road prompted him to move, hauling Danny up and helping him into the warehouse to hide. 
For a normal person, if it didn’t kill them, the wound would still be raw and bleeding, larger than any gunshot wound he’s seen before. But Danny’s wound is closing up quickly, no longer bleeding, the edges a healing pink.
It doesn’t look like it’s going to scar, either. 
“Think it’ll be all healed up by the end of the week?”
Danny glances up, then continues covering it with new bandage, large enough to cover the entire wound. “Hopefully,” he says. “Then I’ll be out of your hair and can figure out a way to get home.”
“Your folks gonna look out for you?”
“Probably. I’m not planning on telling them, though, since they’ll get way too overprotective. The only reason they’re not tearing Gotham apart looking for me is because I came here with my godfather and he told them we’d be gone for two weeks. Can’t believe he tried to kill me on day one…”
“Your godfather tried to kill you?”
“Yeah. Not personally, or anything, but he definitely hired the guy who shot me. Though he also yelled at him for shooting me? Not sure what that’s about, but I never trusted the guy and he didn’t try to help me afterwards when I ran away, so. You know.”
Duke wants to have a conversation with Danny’s godfather. Maybe bring the other Robins along to make sure the message sinks in: Don’t touch Danny.
But Danny, acting so casual about his godfather trying to kill him, would be unhappy about it, and Duke would really rather be able to take care of him than be shut out for trying to take control of the situation.
“Shit, man, that sucks,” he offers, instead of prying for details so he can hunt down his godfather. “You want a hug or something? I can’t really do much else, but if it can make you feel better about all this…”
Danny brightens and shoves the first aid kit away, his shirt (one of Duke’s old ones he offered up to replace the bloodstained one) falling to cover the bandage. “Please. I would love a hug, dude, I don’t remember the last time I felt so lonely.”
Carefully, Duke wraps his arms around Danny, leaning back so Danny could relax fully and not worry about holding himself up. Danny sighs into the hug, going fully limp as he drops his forehead onto Duke’s shoulder.
“Thanks for this. And everything,” Danny says some time later. He doesn’t move to pull away, so Duke stays as he is, watching the weak sunlight slowly move across the warehouse as it spills in from dirty windows. 
“You don’t need to thank me. I mean, I’m a Robin.” He brings up a hand to tap a finger against the R embroidered into his jacket. “It’s what we’re here for.”
.
.
.
It’s been years since he saw Danny. After he was fully healed, Duke helped him get to city limits, watching as he boarded a bus and disappeared down the road, leaving his life just as suddenly as he entered it.
After spending so much time together, quiet hours of stillness just looking out for each other, his life feels emptier without Danny in it. He knew it wouldn’t last, that Danny would go home eventually, but it didn’t make the parting any easier.
Even now, as Signal, taking a break from going on missions with the Outsiders to spend some time with the Bats, his thoughts drift towards Danny, wondering if he’s alright. In his darker moments, he wonders if Danny’s godfather has tried to kill him again, if he’s succeeded. In calmer, happier moments, he remembers Danny’s quiet stories about his family, his town, all his dreams and hopes for the future, remembers the easy company and how Danny didn’t look at him with pity when talked about his parents, just quiet and contemplative. 
Sometimes, he can’t resist the urge to look him up, but there are so many Danny’s out there that he doesn’t know where to start. He never got Danny’s last name or learned when he came from.
It’s not like he can just ask the Bats for help finding a guy he knew for two weeks before he ever joined them. They’re all busy with their own missions, and definitely don’t have time for Duke’s reminiscing. 
“Just caught sight of the truck entering city limits,” Oracle says in his ear. “It’s heading towards the Coventry.”
“On it. Any movement from the mobs?”
“None yet. I expect this to change soon. Red Hood and Black Bat are patrolling nearby if you need backup.”
“Got it. Signal out.”
His comline shuts with a little click, and then he’s grappling over the roof tops, keeping an eye on the roads in search of the truck. He doesn’t have time to think of Danny anymore, not when a shipment of new, experimental weapons is passing through Gotham. Spoiler had heard a few whispers of it and Red Robin helped find more solid details; the mobs are all looking to take the shipment for themselves in an attempt to get the upper hand in the nonstop fight for control of Gotham’s streets. 
It’s passing through during the day, visible and a good move to keep from being ambushed at night, but it’s not enough to stop mobs hoping to take out their competition with new weapons. Duke enters the Coventry just as his comline beeps once and Oracle begins giving him specific directions, along with a brief description of what the truck looks like. 
Apparently, the weapons are being moved in a U-Haul rental truck. That is… certainly a Choice™ to make for moving weapons around the country.
He follows it from the rooftops, but nothing happens. The truck passes through the Coventry without incident and takes a turn that keeps it away from Crime Alley and the Bowery. It gets to the middle of East End then pulls to a stop in the parking lot of a diner. 
Two people get out and stretch, then head in to get something to eat.
It would be the perfect time for someone to break in. Duke pulls the light over himself, manipulating it to make him disappear from sight as he looks down from the edge of the rooftop, tense and prepared for anything.
He almost doesn’t see it at first. It’s just a flicker, a flash of color, a shift in the shadows across the street. But he does see it, even if he can’t find it again, and drops down from the roof, creeping towards the truck.
Duke waits, holding his breath, off to the side of the parking lot. 
A minute passes. And then a figure materializes out of thin air, floating right behind the truck. All Duke can see is white hair and a black body suit; they’re either a meta or an alien, but either way, Duke is ready to take them down.
The figure lifts their hands and a bolt of neon green energy hits the truck, melting the back and leaving a large hole that gives them direct access to the weapons. And then they shoot again, destroying the weapons.
“Phantom!” someone shouts, and the truck driver comes tearing out of the restaurant, a white gun in his hand. His companion follows, her gun also out, and the begin shooting. 
Phantom dodges the blasts, then vanishes from sight. He reappears behind them a moment later, tackling back of them into the side of the truck. 
“No you don’t!” Duke say, rushing forward as he pulls at the shadows around him then sends them racing towards Phantom, restraining them. The driver and his companion collapse onto the ground, groaning weakly, and Duke grits his teeth. “O, send someone to look after the people moving the weapons. Apprehending an attacker now.”
He doesn’t wait to hear a response, tightening the shadow’s grip on Phantom, who struggles fiercely.
“We can do this the hard way, or the easy way,” he says, pulling Phantom closer to him.
Phantom doesn’t answer. They just scream, the force of it making Duke fall back. His shadows dissipate, and Phantom flies up.
“Get back here!”
Duke gives chase, dropping in and out of shadows, throwing some at Phantom in the hopes of catching him again. But Phantom is fast and it takes all he has to keep up as they cross Gotham.
He thought Phantom was flying around blindly, but the way they move across the roofs and then through the streets are too confident, too focused to be anything other than someone with a destination in mind. But where? Where could they be going? If they’ve been in Gotham, then Duke would have heard of them.
A flying, powerful meta with a multitude of powers? Yeah, he would have known about them.
Phantom flies through a wall and Duke curses, going onto the roof and looking around, waiting to see them fly out. But they don’t and Duke finds a broken skylight to drop in from, landing on the support beams of the warehouse, well above the ground.
He knows the warehouse, he realizes suddenly. It’s the warehouse Danny hid in while he was healing. Duke hasn’t been back in years.
“Just listen to me, please,” a voice says behind him, and Duke tense, spinning around to face Phantom, floating just out of reaching distance. “Those weapons are dangerous. No one should have them, it’s why I had to destroy them. Please, you can’t let them get those weapons out.”
Duke stares. Something about Phantom is familiar. The shape of his face, maybe. His voice. Maybe it’s just because he’s in the warehouse again, with someone pleading for his help.
Maybe it’s all in his mind.
“Danny?”
Phantom flinches, floating back a few inches. “What— How—”
“What happened? Is it your godfather again?”
“My— Duke? Is that you?!”
He definitely shouldn’t be doing this, but Danny’s here. Danny’s here in front of him, needing help, and he doesn’t need the Signal. He needs Duke.
He pulls off his helmet and lifts his bare face to Danny.
“Oh,” Danny breathes. “Well. I guess I should have known you’d be a hero. Can you help me one last time?”
“Yeah, of course Danny. Tell me what you need.”
“Those weapons, they were first made to kill me and others like me. It’s a whole thing I don’t have time to explain. But they’ve been changed to affect humans, all types of people, as well. I can survive a few hits from those weapons, but for most people, it would kill them instantly. I need to destroy all of them and stop any further production before the rest of the world gets a hold of them.”
“That’s why you—”
“They have to be destroyed,” Danny says. “And the people making and selling them need to be stopped. I can’t do it on my own. I’ve tried, but…”
“I’ll help,” Duke says, “I’ll help. This is a big enough problem to bring the Outsiders into it. Or the Bats, but they like to stay in Gotham.”
Danny floats closer, looking painfully relieved. “Really? They’ll be able to put an end to this?”
Duke reaches for him. “Yeah. they can do it. I’ll make sure of it.”
Danny’s feet land on the support beam as his hand meets Duke’s. They balance above the rest of the warehouse, drinking in the sight of each other. Duke rubs his thumb over Danny’s knuckles in soothing circles and watches as the tension begins to fall away from Danny’s shoulders.
“Duke,” he whispers, “I’ve missed you—”
The door below is kicked open, and a gunshot rings out. 
Moving on instinct, Duke tackles Danny, wrapping him up in his arms as they fall off the support beam. They hit the ground hard, rolling a bit, and Duke tucks Danny into his chest, bodily protecting him.
“Narrows!” 
The Red Hood stands over him, menacing, a gun pointed at him. 
“Hood?” He loosens his grip on Danny. “What the hell was that for?” 
“Thought you needed back up. You chased after our guy and lost your helmet, I think I’m right to be a little worried about you. So, who’s this?” There’s a hard edge to his voice, and Duke realizes with a sinking heart that all anyone else sees is an aggressor, a meta who attacked a truck full of weapons, attacked two people, and had to be chased down by the Signal. Jason’s seeing a threat and acting accordingly, putting Duke’s safety first. 
And with his helmet off, identity clear, Danny’s even more dangerous now that he has this knowledge.
“I’m sorry,” Danny whispers to Duke. He doesn’t have time to ask for what? before Danny’s shooting another beam of green energy at Jason then taking off, flying through the roof and out of sight.
“Shit,” Jason mutters, straightening up from where he ducked to avoid being hit, then puts his gun away and kneels next to Duke. “You alright? Why’d you let him go? I thought you had him.”
“I’m fine. He’s not… He wasn’t going to hurt me. He just needed help.”
“Sure. And what are you not telling me?”
“I knew him. He’s a good person, but he’s been in danger for a long time. This was him trying to protect others from what he went through.”
Jason takes off the helmet and stares at him. Then he sighs and reaches a hand down to help Duke to his feet. “Alright,” he says, “Let’s head back to the truck. You have until then to convince me that they’re the problem, and if they are, then I’ll help you blow up more of their weapons.” He claps a hand on Duke’s shoulder, then pulls his helmet back on. “Grab your helmet. We’re wasting daylight, Narrows.”
There’s nothing else he can do, no way to search for Danny when there are other leads to chase, so Duke grapples up to the catwalk where his helmet landed and grabs it.
Just before he puts it on, he sees a flicker of white just outside the window he’s facing. He ducks his head to hide a smile. It’s almost like he’s stepped back in time; Danny’s here in Gotham, needing help and asking for it in the warehouse. 
And though so much has changed in those years, there’s still one thing that Duke will ensure never changes: he’s Danny’s hero. Above Robin, or Signal, or anything else, Duke is Danny’s hero.
This time, he has the power to actually help Danny. He’s going to make sure no one ever hurts Danny again.
“Let’s go,” he says, jumping back down to Jason, helmet on. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know.”
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AGH FASHION DESIGNER SUGURU AND MODEL SATORU W A NEW INTERN DESIGNER UNDER THEIR WING 😞😞☹️ - 🌺
WAHHHH I LOVE THIS 🥺🥺🥺 the pining and flirting and slowburn of it all… model!satoru and his favorite designer suguru geto, both of them undeniably skilled and born with an eye for fashion….. well-known and adored……..
designer!suguru who gets tasked with showing you the ropes, who’s always so patient and kind despite your inexperience. diligent with his teaching but also so laidback, so easy to talk to… he looks intimidating, but he’s so polite that you can’t help but swoon a little. and he admires your enthusiasm so much…… grows fond of you soooo quickly bc you’re just such a breath of fresh air compared to the divas he’s forced to work with all the time. he thinks you’ve got real potential and he wants to nurture it.
and ofc you end up running into model!satoru eventually…. bc he’s always hanging around suguru whenever he gets the chance. and he’s maybe a little jealous that you’re hogging so much of his personal designer’s attention, but… he also thinks you’re so cute . T_T like a little puppy following suguru around… so excited to be apart of something you’ve dreamed of for so many years……… he looks into your eyes and sees the same sparkle he had before he made it big, and it makes his heart race.
yeah . i’m just thinking abt the peaceful coffee breaks with suguru….. how he’d insist on paying for your drink, ”since he’s your senior” (he wants to be your favorite </3)…… and how he’d just be so protective over his little intern. don’t get me started on the close proximity with satoru when you’re taking his measurements, the glance and smile he sends your way during an impromptu shoot… the way he always calls for you with a sweet coo of ”how’s my favorite intern doing today?”
😔😔😔 yeahhhhhh. they make me feel ill.
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fure-dcmk · 8 months
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personal relationship chart for my gosho boys au
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kelocitta · 7 months
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In honor of the @rw-ship-showdown I wanted to write about Artihunter as someone who jokingly slapped them together pre-downpour and still thinks they are actually very compelling. Just not in the super soft love wins kinda way (Although I get why people like that more) And the only way I know how to do that is talking too much so heres a far too long slug essay-
Obviously the slugcats don't offer a ton of characterization but theres not nothing to work with. Their stories, whether by their roles in it or the overarching themes do provide a backbone to work with. Even gameplay itself can provide a bit. (for some more than others) Hunter, to me, is ultimately a story about selflessness. The goal is to revive Moon, which is very much an act of kindness from both Hunter and NSH. But the weight of that action is much more significant for Hunter- Hunter is deeply sick. They're on the clock, and for all their skill in combat none of that will ultimately help them to survive longer than their body can hold out. Moon is a close friend of NSH but that means little Hunter- Hunter really gets next to nothing out of helping them, and ultimately pays quiet a bit spending their limited time alive fighting to deliver that neuron so that someone else can live.
To spend ones limited days on helping another, in a game that very much stresses the unwavering cruelty of the world and nature- is pretty notable. (And you could even say that Hunter being the Hardmode of Rain World adds another layer to this)
And then we have Artificer. A storyline that very much stands out to people as more… villainous (so to speak) than the other slugcats. Artificer's story covers a lot of things. Trauma, violence, revenge, etc. Revenge is a bit of a selfish desire- That need to see someone hurt as they have hurt you. A punishment that ultimately does not fix whatever harm was done- but feels good to see because you were hurt and now those responsible share that pain.
Artificer's actions are founded in that need for revenge, their pups killed for overstepping boundaries they didn't know existed. Is it not fair for them to be angry at that, to punish the scavengers for their violence with their own? Why should the scavengers ever be forgiven when they and their pups were not? And that's how you get that loop- Harm for harm over and over.
The original action has been lost in a spiral of violence for violence. And here stands Artificer- their very spirit scarred. Not just because they sought revenge, but because they never ceased trying to scratch that itch for violence as an answer. Artificer only has two paths for their story- killing the scavenger king (Someone who, really, has little to do with the original 'crime' of the scavengers, but represents an important individual to them- as did the slugpups to Artificer), locking themselves as karma one for good and spending the rest of their life chasing creatures that no longer even fight back in a warped sense of closure- or to dissolve themselves in the acids of the void sea because they're too far gone to find any real peace.
They can't meaningfully recover from that state, not alone, twisting in on themselves. Even if they halt their actions, they've been using violence as a feeble defense against their own pain- violence that no longer has any real direction or basis. Artificer gets no real closure from killing the scavenger king. All they can do is continue the cycle, or try to scrub it away. No real peace in a prison of their own making. So you have a creature, who even with a strict timer on their life- a body that will crumble to disease, spends its last bit of time on saving another. And another who was so caught up in the pain of loss that were eaten alive by their own anger, poisoned their own soul on such a deep level even self-proclaimed gods have no solution for them. What peace can they offer each other? For Hunter, its only a fleeting moment of happiness- of selfish love, before their own body fails them. A bit of indulgence in something for themself. For Artificer, its a single, comforting thread to ground them again, something tangible to protect and care about again. But thats a thread that will ultimately be snapped under the cruel indifference of the world. Hunters timer will tick down regardless of if it takes another with it. Its a tragedy- its doomed to end badly. Whatever good it offers to either of them to find each other will only provide the fleeting comfort of a band-aid that will be ripped away too early. But all that can be worth indulging in anyway, if only for the moment. It doesn't change the ending, but the ending was never going to be happy. Its can so yuri
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a2zillustration · 2 months
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I carried this thing for MONTHS with the EXPRESS PURPOSE of putting Raphael in it (knowing full well Larian wouldn't let me do that, mechanically) and I had one major miscalculation.
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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]
[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]
#Ok I'm gonna ramble in the tags about all this get ready:#I KNEW Larian wouldn't let me actually pull this off but I PROMISE you that stupid flask sat in my inventory since the moment I grabbed it#WAITING for when I could write this little bit about putting Raphael in it#I even threw it at him in the fight with a 30% hit chance and it succeeded so I considered that Larian giving me permission to say it workd#But as I was reading up on it again when I was sketching this I saw the bit about native planes and I cried LMAO. But it's dnd-#so I rewrote is as it would've happened in a game. U kno.#Also I have been waiting to use that fox line for SO LONG bc of Croissant's dad being a fox-like fey creature#So much backstory that's slotted in PERFECTLY with the BG3 narrative#Anyway absolutely wild that we managed to take out this ancient powerful devil - and on the first try!#Lae'zel with a potion of speed did WORK. Gale came in clutch with hold monster. Astarion gave Raph stage fright. Croissant made him dance#(I'm pretty sure he just doesn't have a dance animation in ascended form lol)#Hope didn't even need to use divine intervention - this party is terrifying#Croissant hated him but in the end I loved Raphael I see why all you people like him#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 spoilers#act III spoilers#house of hope#croissant adventures#tav#raphael#lae'zel#iron flask#comics#ALSO shoutouts to you if you both noticed and knew which worthikids animation I borrowed the expression in panel 5 from
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I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :
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(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )
#tumblr polls#hrmm... a little poll perhaps.. about a subject I find interesting.. since this image came across my facebook today#still really not feeling that well. no longer shaking violently and such but I still feel weird and weak much more than usual#They did say my markers for like infection or inflammation were elevated but that they werent sure of the cause so hopefully#it's nothing too serious. they did also say a lot of different things can cause that thing to be higher than normal but didn't go into spec#fics of what. maybe some of them are relatively benign or something. I still havent felt much back to normal since#I got really sick that one time though. I feel fine on and off but then little bouts of feeling weird and sick happen. hrmmm#ANYWAY.. looking for small ways to be productive. such as little doodles on evil ipad or editing game videos#or posting polls or cat pictures or some other like not very labor intensive things#I WISH I COULD FOCUS on writing HHRGGhh... I need to finish my game.. it would be so freeing.. a project that's been looming#over my head for like 5 years even though througouht that 5yrs I've probably spent a total of 3 months working on it lo.. ANYWAY#I still partially really cannot beleive that people CAN see stuff in their heads. There's always part of me that's thinking like. well mayb#e everyone DOES see the same exact thing but we just describe/conceptualize it so differently that we think we're talking about#different things when we're really not. But I have been assured by people I've talked to about it that they can GENUINELY really see#stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I#can hear in my head much better than I can see imagery. I still CANNOT hear vividly like as if I were listening to actual music out loud..#but I think it's developed more than my sight. AND interesting how this varies the creative process. a friend I was talking to on the phone#said they write by literally just watching stuff play before them like a movie. where my process is COMPLETELY different. AND that affects#the content/what details we focus on as well as our individual styles of writing have differences that can be traced back to that.. hrmm
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