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#there's no way I'd keep it together
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recent lounging babey images
#he's so floppy recently and I hope it's just the heat. I think wamr weather makes everyone floppy and loungy#a beauntifulle boye...#cats#STILL working on posting some drafts. finishing new poll adventure.. other things... It's just hard with the weather and other things going#on. I've had a few more doctors appointments and other things to do recently that have to be done in a time limit#so I hvae to use my extremely limited energy working on that instead of doing the things I'd really rather do. :T#Main focuses though are keeping up better with doing and posting costumes + sculptures as main creative things. at least finishing the#main poll adventure story. Reworking the game I kind of abandoned for a few years. keeping up with game videos and a few other side things.#Especially the game though. I've been in a really worldbuildy mood recently. I just wish that was easier to manifest into something. I've#now put the worldbuilding slideshow reading video on pause for a while because it's SOOO long to do#and I think I should prioritize making games and stuff instead. but still other things. IT's just kind of like.. I have a whole world and#everything very built and planned out but now.. what do I do with it? what's the best way to share that? factual slideshows just going over#the information like a dictionary? make it into a game? write short stories? do art attached to the world? etc. etc. ?? There are so many#potential avenues I end up kind of flip flopping between them a lot because none really seem more beneficial than the others and they all#seem equally enjoyable and also equally hard so. It's like?? I guess just do what the hell ever and hope I made the right choice in terms o#cost benefit and reward for my time lol. ANYWAY.. Also why I'm in my 'trying to make friends' era still because I think having other creat#ive friends can help you find direction like.. people will meet each other and then go 'hey lol just for fun lets start a project together!#and then like 5 years later it's genuinely become something. etc. having other people to help weed out ideas and start small creative teams#together and etc. I feel is a very beneficial part of networking or whatever but also I have the social capacity of a stale bread roll and#am also inherently unrelatable to seemingly a majority of people due to my hermit wizard swag (detachment from general society and hyper#focus on fantasy worlds in my head gjhghj) so trying to meet people as a grown adult with social issues is Very easy and fun (it is not)#even very basic things like my core communication style is so incompatible with a lot of people it's like.. hhhh... People in this modern#age have GOT to stop being afraid of phone calls and/or text that is longer than 6 paragraphs. Work with me here. I WANT to talk to you. bu#I do not know what your emojis mean and it's physically impossible for me to type less than 85 sentences. please.. hhjgjgb#AAANYWAY!! I am working on things when I can given the circumstances (SUMMER).. hopefully some costume pictures and stuff soon. :'3#I've not forgotten about my art and etc. - as usual I just am bad at social media and also functioning if it's above 65F lol
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alittleflashvibe · 5 months
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Barry and Cisco bring out the best in each other, as much as they're also enablers for dorkiness and silliness and idiot ideas, and it's my favorite thing about them.
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kyouka-supremacy · 6 months
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BEAST's time line not adding up is one of the major factors to why in my head currently beast sskk are in their twenties and adopted 5 cats in a quiet little cottage on the outskirts of Yokohama
Yeah this is the only valid take tbh
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rawliverandgoronspice · 7 months
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hmmm getting hit by another little "being heartbroken about tp ganondorf" moment :)
#ganondorf#tp#twilight princess#thoughts#he's just........... like...........#and him and fucking ZANT together what a toxic shitshow you guys#extremely repressed psychosis + terminal stage of burnout sure is the combo of all times#both fueled by revenge resentment bitterness and hatred in their own special way <3#I'd eat fanfic that dissect these two being codependant and horrible and untreated open wounds prancing around in hyrule#making it everyone else's problem :)#ganondorf being the most callous god-complexed heartless bitch that will destroy everyone and then himself if you breathe at him wrong#because if he stops to move and reflect on everything he will literally implode probably#and zant really really reaaaaally having it under control and never ever once threatening to fucking lose it terminally <3#holding on to the.... “god” he found for his sense of worth and power and stability (mega lol your man is in shambles zant sorry) going lik#“can we keep the weird angry god from the light world I picked up from the sidewalk midna? no?? okay :D *coups the twilight realm* ”#I used to not get this relationship conceptually or why people shipped it. I get it now.#awful awful time for everybody involved 10/10#not even getting into the Mega Divorce because wow#but seriously it's genuinely sad that two men who were *severely* wronged by fate and gods ended up being each other's undoing#because they were too.... toxic and fucked up to be anything but toxic and fucked up about it#queer infighting :(#girls hurting girls :(#SORRY about the novel in the tags I am unbearably like this everytime :((((
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lulubeanie · 11 months
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My stance on the 3 of them is that Duck guy can cook pretty well but gets impatient with how fast things are cooking and turns up the heat way too early so he always burns it at least a little. he has started many fires this way. he doesn’t like to use a recipe and likes to eyeball the ingredients, which is why I think he cannot bake at all
Red guy is a decent cook and ok baker, nothing too fancy but he's pretty good at both and rarely has any mishaps. I also think he can grill pretty well. he's not the best with seasoning things though
Yellow guy seems like the type to be pretty good at both as long as he has a recipe to work off and all the right ingredients. but I also think he's a little clumsy and will make a mess along the way. especially with baking, flour will be all over the place
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mercymaker · 7 months
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pairing: astarion x tav rating: nsfw-ish notes: non-native speaker behind the wheel; a study on the main character, intimacy, and their relation to power. summary: when you try to manipulate a vampire spawn into believing he can easily manipulate you, but you forget to assess how it all might backfire.
She tensed against him, nails instinctively digging into his shoulder where her hand had caressed his skin before. He knows. Fuck, he knows. As calm and relaxed as Maleane tried to play it, her body betrayed every plan she'd set up for the night. Use it. Be the damsel, the morsel, the fly trapped in his web. Make him think you're innocent, weak, pathetic. Frantic thoughts darted through her mind like crossbow bolts, one faster than the other, panic almost dulling the ache that every move sent through her body. Mal opened her eyes to peer at his, assessing the situation, trying to look past that perfectly polished facade. A glimmer of something she could not recognize danced across his blood-red irises and it made her heart race faster. No, too pathetic. He would never believe it. He would never trust it. He could never use it. As the pieces on the board started falling into place, Astarion opened his mouth. To mock her? To tease her? To bite?
"Harder." A rushed whisper escaped through her lips as she pulled him in, hand grasping the back of his neck, pushing those sharp teeth towards her delicate throat.
One desperation for another. A leverage. A distraction. Yes, that will distract him. The rapid volley of her thoughts came crashing in waves, trying to squeeze in between every sensation that was consuming her body. The dry sticks digging into her back, the suffocating feeling of being pinned down, his lips at her neck, the discomfort of it all. How did she end up like this?
Before being infected, Maleane rarely thought of this moment, preferring to take advantage of whatever opportunity would eventually come her way. She was well aware of how this world worked, however, witnessed plenty to grasp the essence of what urges most living, breathing creatures possessed. But all of them seemed so distant, in her periphery at best, for Mal had different things to worry about, survival being at the forefront of her mind. Yet, even those who think themselves high above such mortal indulgences can’t lie for too long.
The first time it became apparent was at a tavern. From time to time, Maleane would wander into one village or another, bringing game or furs to trade. It wasn’t the easiest interacting with people, as most feared drow like the devils from hells, a sentiment she could, unfortunately, relate to. But goods were goods and coin was coin, so once the sense of threat had subsided, many were at least accepting of her being around. Some went as far as growing to like her, for Mal was good at molding herself to whatever person she needed to be for the occasion.
She sat at the corner of the room, sipping on the mead that the dwarf lady who owned the place had offered, her pale lilac eyes scanning the evening crowd. Travelers resting after a long journey, a bard belting a song about doomed lovers, four ladies dressed in revealing outfits leaning over the tables, sweet-talking their way into the men’s purses, and some urchins scurrying around between the tables. Maleane found herself gazing at one of the wenches, her ample bosom almost spilling out of the top of the laced dress. The woman’s skin glistened in the hazy lantern light, tiny droplets of sweat strewn across her chest like a dozen tiny gems. Something stirred in Mal’s core, as if a hand was slithering inside her, reaching down and down to where her thighs met. She wanted the woman to be at her table instead, leaning close, whispering what she could only assume were profanities into her ear. The whore would only want me for my coin. Maleane’s gaze returned back to the half-empty mug nestled between her hands, the soft tingling in her belly dissipating as quickly as it first emerged. She didn’t want to buy something she could take, that was beneath her.
One day she decided that she would do it. Instead of passively waiting for the opportunity to run into her, Mal would take the matters into her own hands and be done with it. For as much as she tried to deny it, the wench haunted her sleepless nights, pulling up memories that the drow had never paid much attention to before. A peek between the boards of a shed, where a maid was wedged between two men, all three engaging in carnal pleasures. A conversation she overheard between an innkeeper and a miller over how the former had found a patron bound and gagged in a room after a particularly rowdy night. A shepherd she had once observed burying his head down the pants of another boy in a field not far from her camp.
It wasn’t long before Maleane was in the village again, looking to replace the tools that had worn off from years of use. While waiting for the blacksmith to return from the market, the elf found herself wandering between the haystacks, away from the busy street and into the backyard. There, an orange tabby rolled in the dirt, soaking up the sun with its big cream belly. As Mal watched the animal play, she noticed that there was another spectator. Unlike Maleane, he wasn’t interested in the playful feline, his eyes were fixed on her.
Pretty, for a human. The youth froze in his tracks the moment the drow moved towards him, eyes widening in surprise. He tried to step back and retreat, however, it was too late and soon he found himself trapped between the elf and the wall.
Maleane examined him from head to toe, lingering on the lean yet muscled arms, the hints of hair peeking at the neckline of his shirt, the faintest outline of the curve beneath the linen pants. He wants me. Like those wenches at the inn. Like the maids bathing in the pool. And yet, his eyes are streaked with fear. She shoved the boy against the wall and pressed her lips against his, hand sliding up his chest to grip his shoulder, while the other slithered to undo the laces of his breeches. The human didn’t protest, surrendering to her advances, yet he didn’t respond in turn. Nothing. It was exactly what was happening, what she was feeling. Nothing stirred, nothing awakened, nothing ignited. She left the backyard, the man still frozen, his pants awkwardly sliding down to his ankles.
It was all before the tadpole, before the nautiloid, before running into the pale elf. With the notion of impending doom breathing down her neck, Maleane was thrown into a swirling pit of chaos. It was a time to take advantage of every favorable circumstance, to risk everything, at every turn, she’d realized. And he was one hell of a risk. The flirt, with words so honeyed it betrayed him. Mal knew better than to trust him, but she also recognized the importance of keeping him in the fold, for a ticking time bomb waiting to stab them in the back was the last thing the group needed. So, she went along with his flirtations, the overt courting, the flattery. All in hopes to keep him on her side.
Astarion wanted her blood, her body, the vulnerability that he’d been prying out of her with every sweet word. Leverage. How transactional. And yet, despite that knowledge, it wasn’t nothing. He made her feel something, a part that she’d hushed, pushed down, locked behind a gilded door in her mind. Mal wanted him, in some strange way she didn’t recognize. In a way that she could never have. She knew better than that.
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taegularities · 1 year
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i'm hurt 🥲
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Slightly frustrating article about U2 in today's Washington Post
This was published ahead of the band's upcoming Kennedy Center Honors. It was behind a paywall for me, so I very brilliantly opened it up in a different browser and yelled, "I'm in!" Upshot: Bono and Edge seem like they're really raring to go, Adam is chill as always and seems amenable, Larry is not only claiming injury, but also sounding generally disgruntled. He's a fucking loose cannon at the moment and it feels not good.
Interesting: Bono wanted Edge to accompany him on the book tour to play on the re-arranged songs (prolly 'cause Edge is the re-arranger?). Gavin Friday talked him out of it, making the point that B's words and performance would be more powerful if the whole thing didn't feel like a U2 show. While I think Gavin was absolutely right, damn. DAMN.
Addendum: The more I think about it, the more I think the writer is somewhat at fault for giving us the impression that each band member is off on his own planet. We can't know what he chose to emphasize and what he chose to leave out, or what his editor decided to cut. Because it just doesn't feel like them, does it?
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steddie-there · 1 year
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Just another bit of my Steddie wip Holding Out for a Hero (ETA: new name - I'd Fall For You Twice). It rapidly got away from me, as this particular story has been wont to do 😅 (over 18,000 words and counting!)
Eddie’s curled up on the couch in the living room, afternoon sunlight slanting warm across his shoulders and onto the notebook on his lap. He’s sketching a new tattoo design, a baseball bat studded with nails surrounded by winding vines and a fucked up monster bat. Steve’s quiet steps shuffle into the room and Eddie raises his cheek for a kiss but doesn’t look up from his work. There’s a moment of nothing and Eddie smirks, knowing Steve is rolling his eyes, but then he feels the press of lips against his skin and he sighs happily.
Steve settles next to him on the couch and it’s quiet for a while.
“Hey, Eds, I, uh, I have something for you.” There’s something about the way Steve says it, the uncharacteristic nervousness, that has Eddie tearing his eyes from his notebook and focusing on his boyfriend.
Steve is holding his hand out toward him, fist clasped tightly around something Eddie can’t see. He tilts his head sideways, studying the outstretched hand before he meets Steve’s eyes, questioning.
“Oh, come on, just hold out your hand. It’s not anything weird, I promise,” Steve says, rolling his eyes, any hint of nerves gone now.
Eddie has to bite back a giggle because, out of the two of them, Steve is not the one who drops weird things into people’s hands. No, that would be Eddie. Like two days ago, when he caught and handed Steve a tiny frog while they were walking through the woods behind Loch Nora. Or the leaf with a ladybug crawling across it a few days before that.
So he holds out his hand, palm up, and blinks when something silvery plinks into it. Then blinks again as he stares at the item now resting in his palm. His eyes widen.
It’s a ring. A class ring. Steve’s class ring.
Eddie blinks. Blinks again. The inside of his chest has gone all fluttery and his breath hitches a little and, as usual, the soft squeeze to his heart melts the connection between his brain and his mouth.
“Isn’t it a little early in our relationship for rings, Stevie?”
Steve opens his mouth. Closes it. “I - no, that’s - that’s not what I - I just wanted you to have something of mine! I thought, you know, this might - work. The best. With your - your style,” he babbles, gesturing to Eddie’s multitude of rings.
There’s that squeeze to his heart again. Not just because of the gift and the thought that went into it, but because a flustered Steve is an adorable Steve. And a very teaseable Steve.
“Why, Steve Harrington, are you asking me to go steady?” Eddie asks, mischief in his tone as he bats his eyes playfully up at Steve.
“Eddie!” Steve splutters, blush spreading up his cheeks. “You know what, never mind, I’ll just take it back, clearly this was a bad - “ he reaches for the ring as he speaks, but Eddie clutches it to his chest possessively.
“Nope, this is mine now. No take backs. You’re stuck with me now, whether you like it or not.”
It has the desired effect of making Steve snort a laugh and murmur, “That’s why I gave it to you, ya dork,” as he runs a hand through his hair.
They’re quiet for a moment, Eddie turning the ring this way and that, admiring the way the clear stone set in the middle catches the light, Steve watching and pretending he isn’t still feeling a little self-conscious.
Finally, Eddie glances up at Steve from under his lashes. “Put it on me?” he asks, uncharacteristically shy, as he tentatively holds out the ring.
Steve smiles, the one that lights up his whole face, that makes Eddie feel like he’s looking directly into the sun. He takes the ring and Eddie’s right hand and slips the band onto the middle finger. Then he brings Eddie’s hand to his lips, presses a kiss to the ring, and oh Eddie might actually combust now.
He tugs a lock of hair over his mouth, trying to hide the blush he can feel rising up his neck. But Steve just grins knowingly. With one last, lingering press of his lips to Eddie's hand, he drops it in favor of gently tucking Eddie's riot of curls behind his ears, even the one he's trying to hide behind.
"There you are," he murmurs, eyes locked with Eddie's. He gently cups Eddie's cheeks, runs his thumbs across the skin under his eyes like there’s something precious there, like Eddie is something precious. And all Eddie can do is stare into those honeyed eyes, his lips parted and heartbeat kicking up more than a few notches.
Steve’s grin turns soft and he presses a gentle kiss to Eddie’s lips before leaning their foreheads together. Eddie’s eyes slip closed, needing that illusory barrier to settle his jumping pulse. It still all feels so new, is so new, but that’s not what has his breath catching in his throat. Because, despite the newness and despite the fact that it is still totally incomprehensible that Steve wants Eddie, of all people, he can’t deny how right it feels to sit so close to Steve that their breath is mingling and their hearts are beating in sync.
For just a moment, Eddie can see them in his mind’s eye, sitting exactly like this - but they’re older, gray in their hair, crow’s feet at the corners of their eyes, and laugh lines framing their mouths - and he wants so desperately that he doesn’t even think before he’s pulling back, hands going up to his neck.
Steve frowns, a question forming on his lips, but then Eddie is yanking the chain with his guitar pick over his head and holding it out to Steve. He swallows, takes a breath. “I want you to have something, too. Something of mine.” Something of me, he doesn’t say, but it’s there between them anyway.
And now it’s Steve’s turn to just stare for a moment, for his breath to stutter in his chest. He gingerly takes the pick from Eddie’s fingers, holding it like it’s made of crystal and not just plastic, and slips the chain over his own head. 
“This is the one that you used in -” he starts to ask, voice hushed.
“In the Upside Down, yeah,” Eddie answers, just as softly.
With quiet reverence, Steve runs his fingers along the smooth edge, then just brings the pick up to his lips and holds it there for a moment, his eyes distant.
That squeezing sensation seems to have taken up permanent residence in Eddie’s chest. He can’t take his eyes from Steve and he knows if he opens his mouth now, he’ll say something wrong or crazy or too soon, too fast. Something like I love you or marry me or I wish I could climb inside you and live there forever. But he’s also terrible at stopping himself from doing anything, so he opens his mouth
and laughs.
Immediately, he claps his hands over his mouth because he didn’t mean to do that, it’s precisely the wrong reaction to the most romantic moment he’s ever experienced in his entire life. Even saying “I love you” would have been better than this. Because he’s laughing and Steve is looking up at him with a flash of something in his eyes and his shoulders are shaking and oh dear god, I’ve completely fucked this up, haven’t I? and if he could bury himself in the couch cushions he would, because he cannot handle the hurt he knows he’ll see in every line of Steve’s body, because Steve is… Steve is laughing, too.
Steve is laughing, too?
Eddie stares at the other boy, at his mouth stretched wide around his laughter, his face lit up with relief and mirth and joy and love and sheer astonishment - all the emotions Eddie feels swirling in his own burst of laughter. And then he’s laughing again, too, and they’re leaning into each other, giggles spilling past their lips even as they press them together and cling to each other’s shoulders to stay upright.
They laugh until their stomachs hurt and then keep laughing, quiet giggles escaping every so often as they kiss and hold and breathe each other in. They’re so immersed that they don’t even hear the front door open or Robin’s voice calling to them from the entryway. They don’t notice her step into the room and stop and stare at the manic picture they make. They have absolutely no clue she’s even there until she says, “Hold up, are you two high?”
They look up at her, blinking like deer in the headlights, before Steve catches Eddie’s eye and they dissolve back into gales of laughter.
“You two are so weird,” Robin mutters, dropping her bag on the coffee table and heading for the kitchen. If she has to deal with them the way they are right now, she needs a snack.
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nabsthevulture · 11 months
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I’ve been awake since 1am and while I am normally able to fall back asleep, MORTON, MR.ORANGE BOY, has been SCREAMING and CLAWING under my door and trying to BASH OPEN the cat door
It has kept me awake, which is typically no big deal since I don’t go anywhere if I dont have to, but I have a two hour round trip to make tomorrow driving with a bunch of shit in the back of my truck so the LAST thing I needed was to be up all fucking night listening to MR.ASSWIPE cause commotion
He has also kept my mother awake, which especially sucks because she has to go to work tomorrow and survive off of the limited sleep that Morton has allowed her to get.
Its time to chug a redbull because this boy aint going back to sleep
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astro-b-o-y-d · 16 days
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Me last year: Sure, I'd like some Dipcifica in Triangulum
Me now: Hmm. Well, I'd still like SOME but I actually don't know what'll happen with them by the end of the fic.
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dragonanon · 2 years
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Tfw when you're trying to limit the amount of calories you're eating, and you realize just how absurdly high calorie most things are.
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desperatepleasures · 5 months
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guhhhh i am struggling so much with ch3
#i'd say i hate it but i also love it like#it's fun to torment conrart while simultaneously letting conrart sit on adalbert's face#and if i keep writing he'll get to like. be a little mean to adalbert lol. in a way that is potentially gonna be ambiguous as to#whether he's just domming without proper negotiation or just being shitty lmao. well we'll see how it ends up coming out#like ch3 and parts of ch4 are the chapters where it gets kinda Unhealthy between them and that's a lot of fun for me#but also it's so humiliating to write LMAO#also agonizing having to like. do exposition. i hate writing exposition#if it were up to me everything would be like. one vivid scene with some dialogue and that would tell you everything. but noooo i had to#go and write a multichap with like. a tiny bit of plot to glue the smut scenes together/give them context#which means i actually need to write that glue#...and i already skipped ahead the other day and wrote the face sitting scene LMAO so i really gotta do the difficult parts now#ofc when i finish ch3 i get to face the void that is ch4...#like i know in summary what happens in ch4 but i don't know the details about the like really vital scene#BUT!!! in ch5 i get to start writing the conzak bits which are possibly my favorite part :) (aside from ch2 which i like a lot)#...i can't believe it takes four fucking chapters just to get connie out of adalbert's house LMAO. im so sorry my boy#you are gonna have some fantastic orgasms and learn some new things about yourself. but at what cost#fic tag
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ereborne · 2 months
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Song of the Day: February 12
“This Is the Life” by Amy MacDonald
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sixftmp3 · 9 months
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i know everyone's favorite omori ending to explore the aftermath of is the true ending, and i can definitely understand the appeal, but i think the bad ending & the neutral endings deserve some exploration
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aeide-thea · 1 year
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i've been trying 2 think how 2 phrase this post bc like. audioboooks are great both for people who can only take in books that way AND for people in situations where they need their eyes and/or hands for something else, and i absolutely don't want to knock them (not to mention that like. a really compelling audiobook reader brings their own charisma and tonal palette to the project and elevates it)
but also i've been listening to lotr in one (1) ear as i bike (bc like. i do think it's an important safety consideration to have one ear available to alert me to passing traffic etc) and like. frodo and sam and pippin JUST made it to buckland. this is literally hours of bicycling time we're talking about at this point. if i'd been gulping down the text with my eyeballs i could have finished the book if not the whole trilogy by now!
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