#maybe i actually do and it's subconscious but still

[holymolyyikes]

what if indeed...

I / VI.

We exited the store, making our way to the park. Ellie, my friend, had to duck the doorway. Somehow, I never failed to note how tall she was – of course, she was almost two metres tall, so it’d be even harder to miss.

‘I don’t think they liked us,’ She said.

‘Why?’

‘We look like a comedic duo. Me, tall, you…’

‘Yeah, thanks. You know, I’m actually really grateful I’m short. Could you imagine not fitting into / around anything?’

‘Ever heard of standpoint theory?’

‘Yes, actually.’

‘You know, I think there’s quite a few parallels to be drawn here from Nietzsche’s On the Genealogy of Morals, where – ‘

‘Nerd.’

‘Speaking of, I actually read a study about the subconscious effect of doorknob height on – ‘

‘Geek. Square.’

‘Who else is going to talk about it, if not us?’

I suddenly dashed away into a major road, bag dangling in the wind. Suddenly, I was hyperaware of the breeze flowing dangerously close across my body, or maybe that was the wind of the cars. After an exhilarating few seconds, I had crossed. After a dull minute of waiting for Ellie to cross through the underpass (she had to duck, again), she had crossed.

‘Brooke!’ She shouted from across the park.

‘Yeah?’

‘Dumbass.’

‘I saw a gap and I took it. It’s not even that heavy anyway.’

‘I don’t want to see you hurt.’

‘Then think of it like this.’ We started walking. ‘If I live, cool. If I get hit, sure there’s pain, but what happens happens. I’m fine, I’m fine. I go to the hospital, either I’ll be fine or I won’t be. If I’m not, I won’t be around to know. None of those routes includes me in any considerable suffering.’

‘Not the being run over bit?’

‘It’s like whatever.’

‘You know that’s not true. What about all the… incomprehensible joys of society?’

‘I always found them too incomprehensible.’

We settled on a park bench, and went to make our way towards it. It was afternoon, but the brief gap in the afternoon where nobody’s at the park. Ellie handed her bag to me, and attempted to jump off a stray bench and over a hedge, practically successfully.

‘Fine,’ she said, reclaiming her bag. ‘Have you seen these new super-tariffs in America?’

‘No?’

‘Oh, man. Well, Trump, or one of his guys, said they’d be putting ‘super-tariffs’ on selected currencies. Economists still don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about.’

‘I didn’t hear. Let me check.’

I pulled out my phone as we approached.

‘Can you do my bag? I’m looking it up.’

‘Sure.’

‘… There’s nothing here.’

‘Really?’

‘Yeah. Give me like a keyword.’

‘Uh… nevermind actually. Misremembered something.’

‘Guess you’re the dumbass.’

‘Oh, shit, I dropped something.’

We stopped walking, and I leant down to pick it up. It was shaped like a coin, but not one from this country. It was slightly bigger – maybe even slightly oval shaped? – and the ridges on the side that blind people use were oddly curved. I looked closer, shifting into the light. The coin was a purplish gold, with a downwards bump in the centre. Didn’t some countries put holes in the middle of their coins? It was like that. There was some guy on it I didn’t recognise with some text I couldn’t read, but the flip side – which depicted what was either a ladder or a ruler – featured eight visibly embossed letters. I could hear Ellie murmuring beside me. I turned back to her.

‘Does this say – ‘

‘Oh, that’s my tall coin.’ She seemed oddly dismissive, for reasons I couldn’t quite yet discern. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

‘Is this a, coin for tall people? Do you just like, go into a store and give them one of these and they give you an extra tall drink or somethi – ’

‘I said don’t worry about it.’ I certainly didn’t mean to, presuming it was some sort of fake currency Monopoly-style, but she seemed oddly stressed about it. It was weird.

‘Fine. Can I keep it?’

‘No! No, I really don’t think that’s best. It’s important to me.’

‘Okay, pal.’ I gave it back, but not before I had taken a sneaky little picture.

what if people over a certain height had a special currency called tall coins that short people didn’t know about. And one day you’re walking with your friend (huge) and she drops something and you pick it up and say what is this and she says oh that’s my tall coin don’t worry about it. But you did worry

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

How would you write Chipped!Catra to make her redemption believable?

interesting question. first of all, i think that chipping catra was antithetical to her character development as she was being punished, not for all her actual crimes, but for doing something good i.e saving glimmer. this could theoretically only keep her from doing more acts of good in the future.

but let's just say she is chipped regardless. what next?

first things first, i would remove all of her lines that basically implied that adora was the villain. chipped catra was supposed to be a look into catra's true feelings about adora, and there's a lot of guilt tripping and victim blaming that the creators want us to just accept.

adora did not abandon catra, she did not break catra's heart, and it just feels like they're twisting the narrative by having catra call adora out, instead of the opposite.

i guess i would make it more so that horde makes catra recite all of her crimes in order to guilt her and break her down, since her subconscious is still active while being chipped.

also chipped catra is honestly not that different from her regular self (i made a post about this a while ago). it's funny that we're supposed to find this scene shocking and heartbreaking, because the purpose of this trope is to make a character act in a way that they usually wouldn't, but catra is basically doing and saying that same things she always does.

i honestly don't know how i could fix this part without rewriting catra as a whole. because she needs to fight adora in order for the trope to work.

but i guess i would make them go more head to head, and not have adora hold back and consequently get tortured like she always does. and i would definitely not do the whole jumping from the cliff thing and have adora risk her life for someone who has been trying to kill her her entire life.

if i could rewrite the entire thing honestly, i would make it so that either adora or glimmer is chipped, not catra. maybe glimmer could get chipped and catra has to be the one to save her from it. would be a more meaningful sacrifice than what we got in the series.

kinda off-topic but one funny trope reversal of the "possessed character" that's always in the back of my head:

character A: *possessed or corrupted or whatever*

character B: please, i know you're in there! you have to fight it!!

character C: *knocks A out with a blunt object* what? we can plead to their humanity after we tie them up and make sure they don't murder us

[kawareo]

Made a Strike playlist!

Quick runthrough under cut, they're in order of events

- 'Do what I gotta' - great general vibes. Works pre and after tadpoling, captures that easygoing vibe while also being matter-of-fact about doing terrible things

- 'Final Laugh' - the proper Dark Urge energy. What he's like when he's leading his cult and bothers to be scary. The whole thing about changing and realizing he's a bad man is from when he turned nine and got taken to the cult

- 'Where we belong' - Durgetash. Could say that about many songs but this isn't their playlist. Honorable mention still though

- 'Villain Arc' - The side of Strike that is the actual planner and not just a murderer. How he was when him and Gort were on their shit in their prime.

- 'Final Act' - listen. LISTEN. Gort has daddy issues and Strike and Raphael are on a very similar level of theatrics if needed. Also, Jonathan Young is my boy's voice claim, so this fits really well in the cover. That's the vibe you'd get if Strike was the boss fight instead of Orin.

- 'The End' - More of the previous; Bhaal's best boy in his prime, the vibes of the deathbringer, Fae'run's red twilight. General Strike energy regarding how he is supposed to kill everything alive (plus that nice part about being jealous of other people and ashamed of it)

- 'Little Poor Me' - nearing towards the Orin incident, Strike's issues regarding being unable to feel certain emotions and just how aware he is of that. Knowing he's going to end hollow and alone and also just how he's pulling away from Orin specifically and how he can't tell her anything anymore because she's too Bhaal-brained

- 'Brutus' - the only Orin song here. Self explanatory. I have a whole fic about this.

- 'The Dismemberment Song' - His year at Kressa's. Had a great time. Orin cuts in for the "im taking your narrative" part because she definitely visited him sometimes

- 'Cast the Bronze' - The feeling of kinda floating through the start of act 1, without a real name or anything to his mind. The chorus refers to Astarion and how badly he was fucking it up at the start.

- 'My Lullaby' - we return to the voice claim. Vengeance and hatred! Promise of payback!

- 'Sleepwalk' - Urges. Killing the bard.

- 'Knock Knock' - once again listen because this fits so incredibly well to the early bg3 Durgestarion dynamic. Strike (A tall purple freak, if you will?) doesn't even know they're doing a duet and is focused on himself and Astarion is blaming him for so much shit he's done but also can't say anything and goes along with whatever it takes.

- 'Phoenix' - rising from the ashes, catching his stride again, getting back to his feet. Act 2 energy.

- 'Wouldn't You Like' - Sceleritas trying to convince him to kill Isobel and get strong enough to protect his 'people' from himself

- 'Going to Heaven' - Strike keeps seeing how shittily gods treat his friends and enemies and is starting to discover his deeply rooted loathing for them that was completely subconscious when he was a Bhaalist. Also the aggressive vibes of when he's done with this shit

- 'Monster' - starting act 3 and learning some things. Thinking that hey maybe Bhaal is right?? Maybe he is terrible and maybe he would be better of if he returned to his former glory

- 'Ruthlessness' - confronting Bhaal in the temple. Can't say much more without spoilers :)

Thought this would've been fun to do! I might add some later but that's the basic timeline

[m4rs-ex3]

made an aftg quiz

idk.... i think it's kinda cool.........

[vv-ispy]

Yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah !!! Adding to a lot of what you said there but maybe from a bit more of a school criticism angle, bc SDR2 is also a criticism of the way the school system ties worth to academics. And Hinata/Nanami/Komaeda represent different approaches to Hope's Peak message of 'academic/societal accomplishments = worth'

Komaeda of course reflects/internalizes what Hope Peaks implies (but never states outright) — if you have talent you have worth, if you don't you're worthless. Hinata is caught in the 'if you don't have talent you're worthless' category of Hope Peak's message, and he desperately desperately wants to NOT be there. He doesn't directly face it (all the Hinata analysis talking about how he turns away from his problems https://serahne-is-here.tumblr.com/post/180203154517/the-boy-who-wanted-to-be-a-protagonist-a <- this one is long but it's often cited + my fav + in general I share the blogger's view on both Hinata and Komaeda) but it's something that he's still subconsciously internalized because he desperately tries to escape it to the point of undergoing a lobotomy when what he needed was self confidence. And as you mention Nanami has the 'people have inherit worth' view, which saves Hinata in the final trial

So as hard as Komaeda clings to Hope Peak's message/hope, he's miserable. If anything Hope Peak's message is detrimental to him because it's a part of why he has such abysmal self worth, and parrotting Hope Peak's message so directly unsettles others — your section on how Komaeda sees everyone in the utilitarian black/white way as vessels only, also describes how Hope Peak sees its students (studying the talents to implant into a talentless vessel to create the Ultimate Hope — Hope Peak's hope is also a nebulous abstract concept never defined but Kamukura was meant to represent it and…well….that sure turned out).

And Nanami is the exact opposite of that view. Nanami gets to live a life of making friends and not being affected by talent to instead find value within oneself — basically everything Hope Peak isn't about. And in return she is happy, well liked, and inspires those around her to be their best. She is the one that most strongly casts away Hope Peak's message of 'talent is hope is the future is worth' by telling Hinata 'toss away talent, toss away hope and despair; it's too restrictive of a black and white view because the future will have both. The future is what you make of it because you have worth and so you can create your future'

The talent/hope/despair part of it might sound a bit familiar because of the very very little glimpse we get (in killing-game SDR2 at least) of what Komaeda actually wants, it's a peaceful life with no hope and no despair and maybe even no ultimate luck (but if we want to extrapolate I'd argue that his stepping-stone 'remember me as the foundation to hope' coping + his fear during the moment of death suggests he also wants to have a future). Exactly the sort of values Nanami holds and advices to Hinata. The OVA then goes as far as making more of those ideas outright with his whole 'if I could I'd get rid of talent altogether because talent holds everyone back' thing, which honestly I think the idea behind it Nanami would agree with — not only does Hinata's lack of talent not bother her but she's also suggested not having a talent is a good thing because it means he's not tied down

SDR2's main trio examines the emotionless, inhuman, black-and-white objective approaches to worth, specifically the sort imposed by school systems that send a message of 'if you do well academically you will have a successful life contributing to society's progress, but if you don't you will never amount to anything and have no future', and Komaeda and Nanami are the two opposing representatives. Komaeda internalizes and propogates Hope Peak's message while Nanami discards it for inherit worth and human connections. But the game ultimately criticizes Hope Peak's views and instead champions Nanami's values, and it sends that message not only via letting Nanami die on her terms, loved and believed in and fulfilled, her words and actions actually inspiring hope in everyone (as opposed to Komaeda who died scared and alone), but by making the life and values Nanami lives by to be what Komaeda deep down truly wants to be

Smile at Hope in the Name of Despair: on Komaeda and Nanami's deaths in chapter 5

Formalising the tags on this as their own thing because I'm going insane. Shoutout to @kaiokentimesten for letting me bounce ideas off them and looking over this before it was posted.

TL;DR:

DR2 Nanami is the person Komaeda desperately tried and failed to be over the entire killing game.

It makes their mutual destruction that was simultaneously a double suicide in chapter 5 even more meaningful.

Komaeda was someone who considered himself apart from the rest of the group, a supporter instead of an equal, and didn't see any future for himself with them due to circumstances beyond his control. Nanami was... someone who considered herself apart from the rest of the group, a supporter instead of an equal, and- based on how her FTEs ended- didn't see any future for herself with them due to circumstances beyond her control.

Both had strong ideologies around human worth that drove their actions over the game and led to them valuing other people's lives over their own. Chapter 5 culminated in both of them willingly sacrificing themselves for the greater good.

But their reception by the rest of the cast was very, very different for very obvious reasons. And the differences between them ultimately led to Nanami achieving everything Komaeda wanted, both on the surface and on a deeper, more emotional level, while he completely failed to.

On Komaeda

On the surface Komaeda strives for 'hope', right? He always acted for (what he believed was) the greater good by (in his perception) helping more talented people bring it about. Go slightly deeper and we see that he didn't actually just want to hang out in background, he wanted to be important, albeit in a vicarious way. He actively went against the will of everyone he tried to 'serve', engineering deadly conflicts behind their backs and manipulating the flow of information in trials, because he had his own ideas about what was best for them which coincidentally always had him pulling the strings. While initially unaware of his hypocrisy, his final message acknowledged this and took it to an extreme.

Go deeper still and it turned out that he truly wanted to be loved. For people to care about him and give a shit he existed. All of the above may have been, in my view, subconscious proxies for that: the only way he knew how to make people love him. Praise him. Raise statues to him. Remember him as the Ultimate Hope. Please.

But Komaeda didn't understand what hope is. His idea of it was too abstract, too utilitarian, too black-and-white. He reduced his classmates to interchangeable vessels of hope*, their individual value as living people dependent on their potential for it, and often callously discarded people that no longer met his standards. This ironically made him more of an agent of despair, especially after chapter 4 shattered a load-bearing part of his beliefs and destabilised him further.

He made the class despise him, died alone and afraid, and (if it had been real) would likely be remembered as an unwell person that tried to kill everyone. At most he garnered respect for his intellect, made the survivors take his luck seriously, and had Hinata torn about him posthumously; a lot of conversations during his investigation were more preoccupied with the end of the killing game than him no longer being with them. Had his plans ever succeeded, his final legacy would have been clearing the way for the creation of 5-15 new Junko Enoshimas and snuffing out what little hope humanity had regained. He took out someone who was virtually the Naegi of DR2 and her death ended up being the only one that stuck.

*There's nuance to that depending on the situation- and his views in general, especially considering DR2.5- but this is about his behaviour during/when planning murders and how it shaped his classmates' opinions of him. I have a post about it here!

Nanami, on the other hand...

...had a fundamentally different approach to morality, hope and what gives a person worth. She was built to have compassion for people that most of society would consider irredeemable: people whose net impact on humanity was extremely negative, who likely couldn't reverse that even if they aided humanity for the rest of their lives. She believed they had worth regardless and deserved a chance to be rehabilitated. Her death was only possible in chapter 5 because, even having seen Komaeda at his worst and knowing he was dangerous, she still believed in him and his right to second chances and tried to save him twice.

She was kind, level-headed, and had her own key moments in trials. People liked her and didn't reject her presence or tie her up in a draughty building for days. Hinata's heart raced when he did FTEs with her and he worked around the ways she was weird instead of storming out of conversations prematurely.

Faced with a choice between her life or everyone else's, forced by one of the very people she existed for, she willingly faced death and helped persuade everyone else to kill her (another thing Komaeda spent the entire game trying in vain to do). This wasn't easy, even after they reached consensus about Komaeda's luck, because she was their friend and they were distraught to see her die. By doing so- and again when she helped Hinata posthumously in chapter 6- she ultimately saved them, their 'dead' classmates (Komaeda included) and the rest of humanity, and her loved ones would never forget that.

Komaeda set out to dedicate himself to hope- to be remembered and loved as someone who heroically sacrificed himself for humanity. But Nanami was the person that actually achieved his dream.

-

As a final note, I love how the chapter's title- which I started this post with- can be applied to both of them. Komaeda idolised hope but his actions often brought about the opposite. Nanami sacrificed herself for Ultimate Despairs because she knew the real meaning of hope was believing in a better future.

[skunkes]

i loooove when ocs unrealized development makes them feel like real people like no i dont know whether talon is genuinely attracted to women after years of both clinging to them for safety and years of putting them onto that untouchable idealized Perfect Protector Pedestal that must remain untainted by any bad experiences, so he doesn't even try to Be With any. He doesn't know either

[blackcatxmagic]

Just as he thought, the woman was going to be a good source of information to help him learn how to brave the northern climate. "I bought some flannels actually," Ocean said, a bit of excitement in his voice because of being ahead of the game. He had one of the steps already done, though he thought he should buy a few more at least. "I do like layers," he told the other. "I like being cozy. I've learned that since coming here." Piling on layers in cold weather was akin to cuddling up under a warm blanket, Ocean had realized, like the mobile version of that. "I think I know what a thermal is," Ocean replied. "Maybe I could do that some time too. I didn't start at the ranch until winter was over, but I think next season I might need to find ways to stay warm since I'll be outside a lot in that weather, and maybe thermals are the way to do it."

When he heard the other's comment about his name, Ocean smiled because he liked that she had been thinking the same thing. "Yeah...sometimes I wonder if that's why I like the water so much, if it was like a subconscious thing. I mean, my sister Sunshine loves, well, the sunshine, and Rain loves the rain, so maybe my parents accidentally conditioned us when they chose our names." He nodded as the woman talked about the ocean, telling her, "It's definitely dangerous if you don't respect it, but it's alright if you do. It's like...a wild animal kind of. You can't control it, and it could be the end of you if you try or if you forget what kind of power it has." Ocean spoke about the ocean with a kind of reverence; he'd always had such a connection to it. "Pools are nice too, or the lake," he added. When he heard the other's comment about the blond, Ocean paused, thinking who it could be. "I don't know everyone's name yet," Ocean said, "but maybe that was Linden. Jesse is like...a cowboy type of guy, at least that's how I think of him, so if that wasn't who you saw, it wasn't him."

Now that Ocean knew Nell's name, he remembered Corey mentioning her again. "I'm sorry," Ocean apologized, "I should have realized who you were. I've seen you play once." Of course, Ocean had felt so awkward standing there by himself (apart from the strangers around him) that he'd barely registered anyone else. Everything around him had felt kind of hazy, and that would explain why he hadn't recognized Nell. Maybe next time he would take Aris so he could actually enjoy it. Nodding, Ocean agreed, "Yeah, Corey's great. I'm...I'm really lucky to be his friend. He puts up with a lot from me, and I don't really get why he would want to be my friend since I'm just...I don't have anything to offer him. But I'm glad he does." Sometimes it felt like a dream, that people like Corey and Aris would actually care about him, but it was real, and Ocean was still learning not to keep waiting for them to leave. "No, I'm not going anywhere," Ocean told Nell. "That...would be alright. Maybe we can get ice cream before too?" That sounded good on this sunshiny day.

Nodding her head, Eleanor found herself agreeing. She had also come to Washington filled with excitement, mixed with dread, but she'd never tell anyone that. Still, she had been exhilarated when moving here; the trees looked like giants, and the nature was vast and wild. It was a place that she could easily get lost in, and that was the whole point. No one would be able to find her here. "I can absolutely help you with the staying warm part. I mean, I can only tell you what I do, and honestly, it's mostly just layers upon layers." Smirking, she paused and tried to think of some good advice. "Flannels are a must; you can always find them at Goodwill. Heavy scarves, thick socks, and gloves. It will suck at first, especially for you since but you'll end up going outside and not worrying about frostbite. However, if you aren't one for layers, there are always thermal shirts."

"There is something magical about water, I stick to pools because the ocean is kinda scary, I mean the tide could just pull me away..." Shaking her head, she smiled softly. "Your name fits you, then." Smirking, she shook her head no, she hadn't met anyone at Prescott Ranch, mostly because she would never get close enough to speak to anyone. "I actually just stare at the horses and never really see any people. I do see someone blonde walking around, but I don't think that is Jesse."

Nell was glad she mentioned Corey, because once she did, Ocean's demeanor changed to something more relaxed and light. It seemed he had that effect on people, or at least every person she knew. "Corey is great, he was one of the first few people I met when I moved here. He saw my guitar, and now I'm in the band." Being in Chasm had done wonders for Eleanor's self-esteem. Allowed her to open up with music and find other people like her in town. "Are you heading anywhere in particular? I was going to grab a coffee and head to the park, if you wanna come."

[bonestrouslingbones]

honestly maybe i should just go through the entire sonic voicecast and figure out which furries’ voices have been coming out of my skeletons for the past 7 years

[giantkillerjack]

I miss my shitty sisters so much. I am feeling the family trauma sharp and harsh today. I woke up from a long anxiety dream again. One of the ones where I'm eternally just trying to get a ride home, and my family just can't seem to give me that. There's always one more thing before I can be allowed to go home. My wife is never in these dreams for long because then she'd help me and the dream would no longer be about family anxiety.

This time, I had fallen asleep in real life with my CPAP machine mask on, so the dream was less severe and not about how I couldn't breathe. In fact, I even had nice moments with my family in this dream. Me and my sisters - especially my older sister who was horribly ableist and emotionally abusive to me - seemed to make up. She didn't apologize or anything, but in the dream, I gave in and invited her to hang out with me. And in a way, it was nice. We watched TV together again like we used to. All three of us. Like in some of my very happiest memories of home.

I think that's why waking up felt so painful to me. Because that comfort was ripped away and replaced with the reality that if I invited my sisters and I to have that again, then there is nothing to stop the same pattern of abuse from occurring for the hundredth time. I would become too depressed to eat, then I would become anemic and suicidal again. I refuse to be that hungry every again on their account. I have this eating disorder because of my sister's abuse, and I will not open myself up to undoing all my hard work on my partial recovery just because I miss her.

But gods, I miss her. I miss my little sister too. I miss having a family that feels whole. I miss my old house which is now sold and never to be the place of comfort it was again. I miss feeling like everything was okay between us.

But everything was never truly okay. So much of the extreme conflict we had was from me developing boundaries against bad treatment for the first time in my life. Of refusing to be treated in the ways they had always treated me.

I gave my big sister dozens of second chances, and she blew through all of them with the absolute confidence of a person who believes they will never stop receiving chances. I warned her that there was a limit, I told the rest of the family how much it hurt that they kept insisting I repair the relationship no matter how it affected me - no matter if it had me begging forgiveness for how I reacted to being abused. So much demand to apologize for making space for myself to be away from them so I could be safe or for - gods forbid - shouting about how their ableism endangered the lives of me and my wife. Shouting! How utterly evil to yell when one's life is threatened! Better to bear it with a smile and agree that actually you ARE just dramatic, right??? 🙄

I realized that there simply was no upper limit to the amount of emotional and ableist abuse I could receive from her, from my parents, or from my younger sister that would not result in the other members of the family insisting it is my responsibility to make myself available to repair the relationship. The wholeness of the family unit was more important than the wholeness of me.

So even if I miss them, even if I am sad how sad they are missing me, how sad my parents are that I won't speak to them, even though I still truly love them... I have an inner child inside of me that I will NOT allow them to make hungry and hurt and guilty and confused again! I deserve so much better than how they've treated me! My wife and my friends have proven that!

I am allowed to have grief and boundaries simultaneously. What I grieve is not my choice to make distance - I do not regret this decision, as it is the reason I have been slowly able to get healthier rather than sicker these past 2 years - I grieve that I was treated so poorly that I had no choice but to cut them off.

I grieve it truly and deeply and even in my sleep. I wailed in my bed this morning from the crushing weight of the waves of grief. I let them wash over me. And I let myself feel them. I survive, still breathing, and I continue to sail somewhere new.

[defness]

→ drawing the same pose over and over again and feels cringe

→ realizes that these drawings are simply pre-ref drawings to figure out one's design so I can Draw Them

→ no longer feels cringe

[thereareeyesinsidethetrees]

also as an update to that 'what does this weird internal experience with the three of us sound like' post

apparently sounds like a system? so that's something we're going to have to puzzle out

also advised that it sounds like bipolar but specifically what folks think bipolar is and not what it actually is. in fact, it more so sounds like we are incredibly unstable. how fun!

if we've been seeming to act weird today or yesterday to any of you, this is probably why. it's a lot to think about

also accidentally vented in the tags but it may be useful if you want to get more details on the 'possibly a system' thing cause. oh boy does it sure have those

[kindasleepycryptid]

I keep obsessing over the neural oscillation technology the twins used in the street fighting quest,

Like???? so much potential???

The amount of ideas it gives me for fics is INSANE

[brunetteaura]

not motivated for anything. zero desires and passions on what to eat where to go and what to see if i didnt have a gym membership id most likely never leave my house during the last month. is this what it feels like when youre fairly close to moving countries? is it the pre period state? the weather? it gets dark so soon

[nexus-nebulae]

actually making a concerted effort to learn written japanese (since I've learned a small amount of spoken already) and. oh boy did not realise how hard it is for my brain to learn new symbols

[1-ufo]

I feel like I can understand the way Matt Bellamy’s brain works in terms of music creation.

It wouldn’t shock me at all if he ever came out and said that he just hears music in his head like almost all of the time or hears it if he closes his eyes.

Because as an artist I can close my eyes and see color combinations a lot. I close my eyes as I’m going to sleep and ideas just float across my proverbial vision so clearly. I can look at things irl and overlay or imagination “enhance” the colors of it. Make that blue a little more purple. Give that tan a pinkish tinge. Beautify the ordinary right in my head and almost nearly before my eyes.

And I think, had I been better at music, had I been able to learn to count music to have a more innate rhythmic understanding of the stuff that I’d be able to do the same thing with music because every once in awhile, I DO do that with music.

It’s rare. Really really rare. But every once in awhile I will wake up from a dream in which my brain magically composed a song out of nothing. A song that does not exist in the real world. And almost always slips away as I wake up but it’s there long enough for me to realize exactly what happened and it always astounds me because I certainly spent many years in music. Learning piano and playing in an orchestra, but I’ve always felt there’s something in me that is blocked in that department by just the way that my body, my being, IS. I’ve radically accepted that when numbers get involved in anything even in the simplest of ways, which to be sure, is an absolute when it comes to music even in an instinctual way, I am slightly disabled in the brain by it.

I practiced music a lot. I picked almost all of it up by ear, similar to the way he also learned. I can read music but I can’t really sight read. I can read the notes but I can’t read the rhythm until I hear it first. Rhythmic clapping exercises don’t tend to help me very much. And in playing in groups I do tend to come in a fraction of a second late, which is unnoticeable to almost anyone when you’re playing in groups.

Yet despite this disability I still chaired quite high in the upper level orchestra at our school. I qualified for the regional orchestra that had the best of the best in region (though in that department my disabilities placed me where I truly belonged. The back of second violin lol. I was simply too busy between school, dance practice and work to put in the practice needed to get up to that level with only four practice sessions before the performance which we played at the intended pace as the music was written. I was truly an imposter in my orchestra class that got away with a lot from my by ear talent. Fully admitted that.)

But knowing that my brain is, on a rare occasion, capable of creating full compositions like that- I feel like it MUST come as easily to someone like Matt Bellamy as colors come to me. Right?

[colonelarr0w]

“As I’ve already stated,” Nanami pauses to sip at the coffee in his hand, “I’ve no interest in speaking to her.” 

Annoyed, Gojo leans back in his seat, casting a glance to the Instagram post that he had shown Nanami — the girl in it was attractive, but somehow it still wasn’t the blonde’s type. 

“Hmm, maybe you’re just not into brunettes,” Gojo says dismissively, scrolling through the woman’s Instagram before stowing his phone away into his pocket. 

Nanami bites back the chuckle in his throat, masking it by taking another sip of his now lukewarm coffee. A shame that Gojo kept interrupting him just as he wanted to enjoy his break.  

“I’m not into anyone,” Nanami finally says, setting down his cup — though he is quite frustrated considering that the coffee had been purchased by someone else for him.  

“Oh? What, have some secret girlfriend I don’t know about?” Gojo teases, already laughing at his own joke. Nanami shoots him a pointed glare, subconsciously running a finger over the smooth metal band adorning his left ring finger.  

“I don’t see how—“ 

Nanami’s phone buzzes on the table, its screen displaying your image. It’s one of Nanami’s favorite photos of you, one that he had taken himself during one of your monthly date nights.  

Gojo’s eyes flicker down to the flashing screen, his eyebrows raising and his eyes widening in absolute shock. “Who—?” 

Nanami is quick to answer the call, pressing the phone against his ear and doing very little to hide the smile that curls his lips upward. “Hi love.” 

Gojo’s jaw goes completely slack. It’s an expression that would make anyone laugh — Nanami is honestly shocked at how well he was able to keep his straightforward façade.  

“Yes, I should be home soon. I did not forget,” Nanami’s tone is reassuring, one that Gojo had never heard in the stoic man’s voice before. It’s heartwarming, not that he would ever admit it out loud.  

“I love you too, bye now.” 

The minute that Nanami hangs up, Gojo is practically screaming. Heads turn, and in a fit of both frustration and embarrassment, Nanami attempts to diffuse the situation. 

“You have a girlfriend?!” 

“Wife, actually.” 

“Are you—?!”