#the mental image it invokes

[yusukeurameshie]

I highly recommend joining your local town's Facebook groups, about 80% of it will be trash but occasionally you get absolute gems like this

#snakblr #reptiblr #snakes #snake #cottonmouth #im obsessed with this post #the mental image it invokes #i dont even care if this is some sort of weird copypasta/meme

[a-s-levynn]

#sleep token #so i had a brief discussion about Atlantic the other day with #@reveries-of-my-mind #and than this happend #i know it's not anatomically correct nor the proportions right or anything on that front #it's an artistic rendition okay? 😂 #not that i'm an artist or anything #i can barely even draw properly #but i'm kinda proud of this one #i'm aware the whale was originally for fall for me #this is about the mental image that atlantic invokes for me when i listen to it especially in the context of the entire album #and not about the original artwork for the songs #colour wise it could have been a bit darker but whatever i'm just glad i was finally able to draw anything at all #levynn tries to draw #tpwbyt #atlantic #an offering

[noahczerxy]

i can’t stop myself from seething whenever i see someone talk about how bad shadowheart is in combat like motherfucker if you can’t make a cleric good in combat in baldur’s gate then maybe you just need to get better at the game

#personal #bg3 #I have to post this here because the only other person i know playing baldur’s gate is my boyfriend #and he’s already heard this rant every day for the past week #like???? #clerics are tanks they’re healers they can buff and debuff they have some of the most absolutely nuts combat spells #and trickery domain specifically can go off in combat with invoke duplicity and mirror image #like if she’s bad on your play through that’s on you babe #it doesn’t help that the first ‘shadowheart bad’ take I saw was from a guy #who said ‘Shadowhear doesn’t need to be good in combat because she’s my mentally ill princess’ #and I wanted to rip his skin off in one piece like the goddamn table cloth trick #anyways i’m having a great time in my playthrough

[o5-the-daughter]

Are. Are they sitting under the table? Also ??? EIGHT AND WILLOW AREN’T AT EACH OTHER’S THROATS!!! WOOO

No, they're signing to eachother under the table so One doesn't see. Sitting under the table to gossip isn't beneath them either though. Pun intended. :]

I'm also pretty sure they just straight up forgot that they don't like eachother somewhen throughout Two and Ten's argument. It's fun to watch when that happens.

#a questioning mind #an error in the system #[very glad the word choice invoked the mental image I was going for akksks]

[schadenfreudich]

We finally gave the two... not quite people actual names, we could stop just describing them every time.

And while with Horst is was, yeah, that sounds like a fitting name, with Anton it was more of a "I think his name's Anton" which implies things that I will just not think about.

#i mean. i am thinking about it. because anton is the subject of a quite consistent delusion but i'm trying to not immidiately go so far as #to say that he has autonomy in our brain. because he has continuesly not shown any sign of being autonomous or reacting to anything #even if i was invoking his mental image and directly talking to him. so really. it's quite unlikely. but also. it's not like delusions care #about logic. or i wouldn't still believe he was trying to communicate to me. while he also just stares at nothing. basically. or me #either way. he hasn't ever moved. not in the original dream and not in any mental image of him #i should stop #-franz #unreality #about anton #about horst #(i forgot to fucking tag these. i fucking forgot horst name. for fucks sake)

[ranpd]

I think chūya has definitely at one point tried to put dazai on the ceiling because that’s the way he usually handles problems and it just completely didn’t work

OH MY GODDDD like immediately after they met they got into an argument and as dazai was walking away chuuya put a hand on his back in an attempt to put him on the ceiling to which dazai replied with a slow turn, shit eating grin

#take 10 psychic damage #AGAHAHAHSH THIS INVOKES SUCH A VIVID MENTAL IMAGE #keep these kind of asks up im having a great time #chuuya anon #are you. tumblr user sirfae 🥺🥺🥺🥺

[beastenraged]

Rise Donnie would be the type of guy to have a wizard van, I know this in my heart.

Even with him hating Witch Town.

#rottmnt #rise donatello #like it doesn't even have to be SPECFICALLY wizards #that's just the type of van art i'm trying to invoke #like i've got the greatest mental image of the adam reaching out to god pic but both adam and god have donnie's head #that would be absolutely fantastic to see painted on the side of a van

[sickness-stricken]

I know I clown on Taylor Swift for using a “psych ward aesthetic” but if I’m being honest I feel like it’s a broader issue among writers trying to talk about psych abuse. Even if it’s not actively trying to be romanticized, it bothers me that every book I read where abuse in the ward is a prominent theme, it’s always the same idea: takes place before the 60s, shock therapy, the character strapped to the bed with leather belts in a straight jacket, etc.

It unintentionally frames psych abuse as this thing of the past and I don’t fuck with it. Like… you know this kinda stuff is happening now, right? Sure, I was never subjected to shock therapy, but I was restrained and I did have meds forced on me. But I guess that mental image doesn’t invoke quite the same kick.

#mad pride #anti psychology #anti therapy #antipsychiatry #anti taylor swift #psychiatric abuse #anti psych #swifties dni #neuropunk #ableism

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: What Era Is Your Beauty From?

☯︎ “A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. I am not suggesting any of these descriptions are cannon to your ancestral history, these are just how my intuition perceived, and then presented your beauty’s energy.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

🂽 Pile One 🂽 (the devil, 2oC rev., ace of cups rev., 4oW, 3oC, king of swords, the tower, the world)

❖ Pile one, I feel like I’m watching the Game of Thrones out of context. Just flashes of people from around the Medieval 1400s living their day-to-day; singing, dancing, eating together, and then… not.

❖ The imagery I got when I asked what era your beauty came from, was very longing in nature. There was a lot of joy and celebration but it felt like I was watching the film through teary eyes and a heavy heart.

❖ The “movie” flashed between a thriving culture sharing tales of triumph and having happy, drunk sing-song moments together; and then those same people under a war-torn regime of a very cruel but powerful man. I sense themes of religious persecution, nationwide government-forced famine, and general desecration of the once-peaceful way of life. The population was going through collective mourning.

❖ People lamented over their unfulfillable desire to reconnect with their homeland and all of their loved ones. With the World card at the end of the spread and the Empress at the bottom of the deck, I get the clear image that your beauty is the physical embodiment of a large collective’s longing for the sanctity of their community. You invoke that feeling people get when they remember a bitter-sweet memory that hums fervor in their chest and gives them the fire they need to push forward.

❖ Your beauty comes from an era where the genuine smile and cheer of a pretty girl sparked a nation’s hope for reformation. You are the last remaining connection to long-lost celebration and the heart of a forgotten city.

How Do You Paint The Divine Image of Hope?

🂽 Pile Two 🂽 (7oC rev., 4oP rev., full moon, leo, sacral chakra)

❖ WHOOOAAaaaaa Ammberrr is the collluuhhhhh of ya enneergyyy!! WHOoaaA, shades of gaawwllddd displayyy naturraalllyyyyyy…..

❖ Just know I was HOLLERING that. This is my hippie pile. My people. Yea that’s right, I’m talking the late 1960s - early 1970s.

❖ Your beauty arose at a time when society desperately needed color (specifically seeing some of you wearing a lot of bright colors or eye-catching jewelry or hairstyles). The world was bleak and the war’s aftermath on the overall mental and emotional welfare of the general public pushed people to radical ideals and birthed a revolution centered around liberation, pleasure, and community.

❖ Your beauty is all sunshine and rainbows. Psychedelics and organic food. The best music in human history (feel free to argue with me, but know that it is going straight out the other ear, mama) and week-long outdoor festivals full of peace, love, and vulnerability with total strangers.

❖ Your beauty brushes people with the chilling winds of shameless pleasure. The taste of unadulterated personal freedom that is almost a societal taboo. Your beauty is so purely liberating.

❖ Lmao, I imagine a guitar riff going off everytime you walk into a room.

❖ You are the physical embodiment of eccentric love and vivacious rebellion.

Play That Funky Music

🂽 Pile Three 🂽 (The lovers rev., the High Priestess rev., Ace of Swords., 4oC. 7)

❖ Revolution is a running theme for all of the piles. This collective’s beauty awakens people.

❖ I’m seeing a brilliant man going mad at the lack of creative intelligence around him and pushing for societal rebirth. A complete cultural shift from the Dark Ages (pile one), to modernity. This is my Renaissance pile.

❖ You embody the mystical fusion of art, religion, architecture, and science. You are all the world’s intrinsic beauty rolled up into one figure. You are the art that attracts painters, inventors, and philosophers alike.

❖ You have the beauty of an all-around muse. You invoke the spirit of creative passion. It is like people see you and get a stroke of inspiration. Something that kicks them in the ass and tells them to go outside and create.

❖ This pile is very romantic. A classical beauty, like red roses and bottle poems. The universal innate desire to dream big.

❖ Shoutout to my Aquarians, 11th housers, and Shatabhisha natives.

The Medieval-Modern Muse

🂽 Pile Four 🂽 (king of pentacles, 2oP, 5oP rev., 9oP)

❖ OKAY PLOTWIST?? I don’t know what era this pile’s beauty is from because it’s set in the future.

❖ It’s funny how the last piles were all set in periods of revolution (putting in the WORK) and your pile, the final pile, is set in a better world full of financial stability, the end of inequality, economic fairness, and universal abundance (the fruits of the labor).

❖ Dude, I was trying to read the message at first and was just scratching my head. I was like, “When has anywhere, literally ever been this good???” Then I saw the ace of wands reversed at the bottom of the deck and saw impending change and it clicked.

❖ I also saw some star semblance, and see that your beauty is a reminder to mankind that the “impossible” is already set in motion. The hell we have created will crumble.

❖ You are a physical embodiment of society’s future triumph. You radiate wealth and fairness. My Venusians, especially Libra. You also look regal, something about you makes people want to stand taller.

❖ You got the pride card, I see that you give people the feeling of victory. You are living proof of future triumph in a better world where greed and sorrow are eradicated.

❖ You are the harbinger of the next era.

Introducing The First Titanium Man On The Moon!

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #arijackz #astrology observations #pick a pile #beauty #eras

[snapscube]

I've never found "that's what she said" funny but even though playing that techno music from that cyberpunk 2077 meme is pretty much the same joke there's something about it makes it the funniest thing in the world to me. thank you penny

It helps that it invokes the mental image of Keanu Reeves saying things like “getting cock”

[masuchu]

“𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆?” [WRIOTHESLEY]

what happens when your gaze is hopelessly bound to those seemingly innocent, but inexplicably lewd handcuffs your boyfriend constantly carries around with him? ‧₊˚

genre. smut! nothing actually happens, but the entire thing is extremely suggestive, mentions of bondage & punishment, manhandling lol

pairing. wriothesley x reader

love, masu. ah, i think this is an amazing way to get myself back into writing on this blog again! my real writing style is finally being shown haha, none of that sickly, too cute stuff. hope you enjoy!!!!! let me know if you want a part two :))

Wriothesley always spoke with such a sultry, sickening tone that left you feeling your heartbeat in places you usually do not. Perhaps the gentle rasp was what left you so at his mercy? Or maybe, the simple yet defined vocabulary he used when explaining his day, or in other, more intimate moments, what he would like to do to you.

Having said all of this, why could you care not a shred for his words this very moment? Why were absolutely none of his sentences registering in you hazed mind? Instead of paying attention like a lover should, you had your hungry eyes pinned on those alluring, metal cuffs dangling from his belt. The images they conjure, the activities they connote: it all left you salivating and shuddering in the office of the infamous Duke. (Or in terms more personal to you, your lover.)

“Like I said, the prisoners become rowdy when they get bored. I’ll need to implement— Sweetheart, are you listening?” Wriothesley’s eyes dragged across your abnormal, quivering form and he mentally concluded that something was … distracting you.

You jumped out of fear of your daydreams being exposed, but also in mild concern of the daydreams themselves and their insatiable nature. Nodding fast like a guilty toddler, you blurted,

“Oh, I have never been better! Whatever gives you the impression I am not okay?”

The man in question took a careful glance at your wide, doe eyes and stiff form. Suddenly, his head tipped back just an inch or two, and a low chuckle departed from his lips. (The action having a much more arousing effect on your nether regions than you would ever admit.)

“I said ‘are you listening’, not ‘are you okay’. Well done for exposing yourself, sweetness.”

If only he knew what else you were hiding, you thought gravely to yourself. In a naïve belief that he had unknowingly saved you from a mortifying admission, you attempted to go along with his interpretation of your abnormality.

“How silly of me! I really am not with it-!”

Your hips were suddenly locked in solid grip, hard enough to invoke deep, purple bruises along your skin, and you were yanked into a firm but comfortable chest. A chest you knew all too well.

“Also, don’t think I didn’t noticed the way you were looking at my handcuffs, pretty. Got something you wanna’ tell me?”

“You’re mistaken, I— It was simply a one time glance! Absolutely nothing to do with—!”

Your boyfriend removed one hand from your waist and weaved the remaining arm tightly around your waist entirely, keeping you firm against him. His now free hand took a delicate hold of your jaw, and whilst lifting it up his face travelled closer to yours. His hot breath fanned over your lips, and all you wanted for him to rearrange your guts then and there.

“Ah, and now you’re lying? Lying is not very becoming, especially not on you. It makes you bad, and do you know what I do to bad girls?”

His ragged yet stylish hair, his impenetrable, piercing eyes, his strong hold on your body. The physique of a God, you thought. Every aspect of him, how his eyes were intently fixes on yours, waiting for you to answer his question, to use your words— as he was always so keen on you doing. It all came together to allow you to blurt out such a meek, pitiful and uncertain whimper,

“You punish them, Your Grace?”

A devilish smirk tugged on his lips.

“Clever girl. Your little … imaginations might just be brought to life far earlier then you expected. Now strip.”

2023 © masuchu , do not repost, reword, plagiarise, take inspiration, translate or share my work anywhere!

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ sincerely me ‹𝟹 #genshin impact #genshin #wriothesley #wriothesley genshin #wriothesley genshin impact #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #tee hee #guys this is just a starter in the feast i have prepared … #i’m really hoping this does well over night and that my cuties havent abqndoned me 😭😭 #anyways

[elsa-fogen]

Hello!! The mental image this invokes is Alastor hitting me with disembodied kitty paw (is it Husk's? we don't know). Anyways I love your work and I hope you are kind to your wrists and take regular breaks!

yep

and thank you!!!

#alastor #hazbin #hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #the radio demon #radio demon #the deer in headlights #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #sudden ask lol

[slytherizz]

Petulant - Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

Tags: Rivals to Lovers, Fluff, Slice of Life, First Kiss

A/N I'm trying to be kinder to myself when it comes to my writing. I usually share longer pieces but I have so many little bits of fluffy drabble and I'm trying to remember writing is meant to be fun and not every one-shot needs to be perfect.

Palms flat on the jetty Sebastian hoisted himself out of the water. Cursing violent profanities as he shook his hair out like a wet dog as he scrambled onto the dock. Shaking whether with rage or because the frigid water of the black lake had chilled him to the bone. She wasn’t sure. 

Not that she cared. 

Sebastian deserved it for being such a petulant pain in her arse. And little water never killed anyone; no matter how many unsavoury creatures lurked in its murky depths.

He’d practically goaded her into shoving him off the jetty. It had only been a matter of time before one of them retaliated against this little bonding exercise of Hecat’s. If he'd seen the opening first she'd be the one drenched and spluttering - she was sure of it. 

Having to endure sharing a potions station where they could use Gareth as a buffer was one thing. But being forced to spend her precious and most sacred Sallow-free hours, in the freezing cold catching Grindalow's as punishment was beyond the pale. All because they caused a teensy fire that was entirely Sebasitan’s fault when a duel had gotten out of hand. 

Really what had Hecate expected to achieve with this cruel and unusual detention? That they’d return to the castle thick as thieves? Strike up a newfound camaraderie that would want to make her do anything besides hex the smarmy git?

Impossible. Their professor was far too optimistic and this exercise had been doomed from the start.

“Enjoy your swim?” she sneered. Perhaps it hadn’t been an entire waste of time. At least now she could savour this mental image of him sopping wet and looking utterly ridiculous. 

Regaining his balance and rising to his full height, Sebastian stalked towards her. Face like thunder stopping mere inches away from her to glare down his nose. Droplets of water falling from his hair onto her cheeks. She swatted them away wrinkling her nose in disgust which only seemed to enrage him further. 

"You. Are the most immature. Insufferable. Petulant witch, I've ever had the displeasure to meet. Give me one good reason I shouldn’t hex you on the spot! Why exactly did you feel the need to throw me in the bastard lake?”

He was standing so close to her she should really step away but her feet were practically glued to the spot. Standing so close his hot breath ghosted across her cheeks. So close in fact, she could see his freckled skin through the shirt which clung to every inch of him. Sheer white leaving absolutely nothing to her imagination. 

How she'd never noticed quite how large Sebastian had gotten until he was impressing down on her was a mystery. A realisation that came too little too late as she’d turned their altercations physical. 

No matter where she looked there seemed to be more of him. Broad shoulders heaving with every laboured breath. Water beading in sparse hairs on his chest which peaked out from over his open-top buttons. Muscles in his jaw and neck twitching in agitation. 

Her eyes of their own volition had begun to meander down his stomach following the trail of hair wondering exactly how far they went before she caught herself. Wrenching them up again to his face, before she saw if the cling of his soaking tartan trousers exposed just as much of him as his shirt. Half terrified of what she'd find; the other half disgusted with her own desire to look. She didn't know what kind of feelings it would invoke but by the heat pooling low in her abdomen - she could hazard a guess.

“Have you got nothing to say for yourself?” 

She blushed wildly. Mouth flapping open and closing like a fish out of water. Trying to stamp down the unwelcome feeling that made her want to press her thighs together. 

He blinked at her. Dark eyebrows lowering sceptically. "You're staring."

"I am not!” she spluttered. Trying to recapture the feeling of overwhelming irritation she’d felt the precise moment she’d thrown him overboard. “An obnoxious idiot just happens to be shouting his head off in my eyeline."

"You're blushing." He smirked, voice giddy with amusement as if he'd finally cracked some impossible puzzle. Her hands snapped up to clasp her burning face to hide the evidence. His tongue darted across his bottom lip licking off water. Which only made her cheeks burn hotter.

"Is that why you pushed me in? Wanted to get a good look?"

"I wanted you to shut your mouth and stop whinging for five minutes so I could have some bloody peace. But it seems to have had the opposite effect - you're chatting even more bollocks than before."

"So this why you’re so insufferable all the time. This-” He gestured down to his dishevelled albeit to her utter dismay, not unappealing state of undress. “Is your idea of flirting?”

“Flir- Flirting? You must have knocked your head on your way down.”

“Merlin. This is rich - You’d be pulling on my pigtails if I had them."

"No. I. Wouldn't!"

Foot stomping hard on the rickety planks in frustration. Rather childish and definitely not her proudest display. It did little to prove her argument and instead to her dismay only seemed to make Sebastian grin wider.

"You fancy me." Not a question. He declared it like he’d won some imaginary battle. 

"I absolutely do not."

He leaned further towards her she could see the glint of triumph in his brown eyes. She swallowed hard eyes flicking towards his lips and back again. 

"Liar.”

Strong hands seized her face and knowing he’d won - Sebastian crashed his lips into hers. They were wet and cool against hers from his tumble into the lake as he kissed her. But so soft and inviting in a way she didn’t think anyone's flesh could be it made her head spin. His fingers tangled in her hair, mouth moving demanding against hers. 

Her knee jerked instinctively towards his most precious area but faltered, along with the last of her pride. She could not seem to find the will to pry herself away. Sebastian’s teeth grazed her bottom lip requesting access. She gasped in surprise and he slid his tongue past her parted lips. A shudder ran through her as his tongue flicked against hers.  

He groaned into her mouth, as her tongue matched his motions in maddening strokes. A sound under normal circumstances she would have mocked him mercilessly for only made her kiss him back more feverishly. Regrettably, her hands were just as traitorous as her tongue. Following the curve of broad shoulders, she felt the muscles underneath firm from years of duelling. Admitting defeat she dared to go further tangling in his wet hair. Pulling gently hoping it would elicit more sinful sounds from Sebastian. 

A deep well of desire now pooled in her gut all rational thoughts drowned in. She failed miserably to stifle her own strained moan as large hands encircled her waist pulling her flush against him. Skin practically burning despite the frigid temperatures.

A truly pathetic whimper of protest escaped her lips as Sebastian pulled away from their kiss. Leaving her breathless and dizzy even as the cold rushed in. No longer able to leech his warmth she shamefully realised how close their bodies had been pressed together from the chill of her damp clothes. 

He stepped back and if she was capable of forming a coherent thought she would have hexed the smug look off his ridiculous, handsome, infuriating face. 

"Now. I'm going to go and get out of these wet clothes before I catch a death," Sebastian said. As casually as if he was observing the weather and had not just spent the last five minutes snogging the supposed most insufferable witch he’d ever met. Turning quickly on his heels he began striding towards the boat house. Leaving her open-mouthed cheeks burning from the frigid wind lapping at the wet hand print on her cheek or with shameful unwanted desire she wasn't sure. Calling back over his shoulder. A roughish smile pulled on freckled cheeks. A devilish glint in his eye. "If you're ready to stop being such a brat - I'll let you help."

She groaned inwardly, legs following him across the jetty seemingly of their own accord. Powerless to stop herself and praying no one would see her shameless pursuit. 

She knew he'd never let her live this one down.

Not that she cared.

#sebastian sallow #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x f!mc #hogwarts legacy fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian x mc #sebastian sallow fanfic

[snickerdoodlles]

headcanons behind fic: Chay's allowance and KimChay zero baht dates mentioned in long & short

Kim chokes trying not to laugh. “Seriously Angel?” Chay looks at him, lips pulled into a pouty moue like what? “You only take me out on zero baht dates, but you’ll pay people to draw us as cats?” Chay sniffs primly. “I only use my allowance for education and fine art,” he says, haughty.

Korn giving Porsche and Chay a large allowance comes up in a lot of my fics I think, because I see him giving all of his sons and his wards a large allowance. And for once, it's not actually a part of his usual manipulation and control tactics.

(Well. It's not not about manipulation and control, because everything Korn does involves manipulation and control. Korn absolutely monitors their accounts and purchases, not to mention he's absolutely the sort of person to always have a mental ledger of favors given and owed for everyone, especially family.)

However, he doesn't need to control any of the boys' finances to have control over them and he's so present over all of them that giving them access to their own money (vs having them request it from him directly) doesn't give him any more advantage over them or could even run counter to it.

No, I see Korn giving all the boys a hefty allowance as a personal push back against the ghost of his father.

We don't know anything about grandpa Theerapanyakul beyond the fact that Gun invoked his name while yelling at Korn and the mere comparison of them rattled Korn more than the literal gun war happening in his own home. Of all the terrible fathers in this series, the grandpa takes the cake apparently!

Alongside Korn's deep-seated control issues, he also has this weird...thing where he really, really wants to be seen as a caretaker and good provider. He never outright denies his sons and is seemingly very supportive of them-- Khun was allowed to fall back and be taken care of, Kim was allowed to live separately to become a musician, he paid off judges in the name of Kinn's childhood dream, later he supports Kinn and Porsche's relationship-- and the whole fucked thing with Nampheung and the narrative he's constructed around him taking care of her. Even Korn's relationship with Gun is a little bit weird given how much he talks about competition. Like, he desperately wants to be seen as a good provider and caretaker, he just also can't stop being Korn and has that stupid-ass metaphor with the knife and the apple. It's a very crunchy contradiction.

Anyways, Korn's issues aside, I see Korn giving his sons and later wards personal allowances as a part of his personal image of himself as a good provider.

And Porsche and Chay hate it.

(Porsche reminds Chay they're very grateful. Chay mutters where was this help when Porsche took out an informal loan too young. Porsche hisses and whips his head around for any walls that are listening.)

Chay mostly just tries to ignore the supposed pile of money apparently just...sitting there, for him, and spend no differently than how he usually would (it doesn't feel real, digital money is never real to him). However, after so many years of Porsche sacrificing to save money for his needs and future, Chay can't bring himself to ignore the account completely when it comes to things like school or food. He never actually looks at his account, he mostly just squeezes his eyes shut whenever he uses his card for essentials and waits for the system to deny him, except it never does. That does not make Chay feel any better about the situation.

The only time Chay's close to breaking his "no treats" stance is shortly after he and Kim get together. Chay wants so badly to treat Kim to something really special, but. Money. He frets. He makes a pros and cons list. He paces. He has an entire argument with himself in the mirror. He angsts. He takes one look at Kim's happy face over a candlelight dinner and decides fuck it, that's a guy he's going to spoil to the moon and back, stupid blood money allowance be damned.

Except, as established, Chay's never looked at his actual account, so he goes to Cash the accountant to see what his options are for spoiling dates. Like, he's been paying his tuition and the card always goes through at the grocer or noodle house, and Korn does keep telling him his school allowance includes some extra spending money, but Chay wants to spoil Kim. A band they like will be on tour in Bangkok around Kim's birthday, Chay's gunning for special VIP tickets and some extra money for merch and dinner. Surely stupid rich mafia has plenty of money to spare for that.

Chay: would I, uh, be able to get a little extra money? tickets are 3000 but they're for a really special occasion and-

Cash, thinking about Kinn's 3000 dollar helicopter tickets: I don't care, let me just pull up your account details

Chay: thank you so much 🥺

Then Cash turns his screen around to ask Chay how much money he needs and. That is. A lot of money. So many digits. The decimal certainly in the wrong spot. Then Chay looks to the top of the corner and nearly screams because that's his name on the account, what the fuck?

Cash: Khun Korn said to have enough money to cover your tuition

Chay: [does not point out the initial balance was 3x his four year tuition]

Chay...leaves. He thinks. He doesn't know how he got from Cash's office to his room but his next stop is his bed to scream into his pillow until his throat hurts. Fucking rich people.

In protest, Chay takes Kim out the next evening on a zero baht date. They walk along whatever part of the river's nearest to their university to watch the sunset, have to jump a fence and duck two railings to even find a private sitting space away from any other river goers. The view's passable at best, at least free of most industry stuff thanks to the proximity to school but hardly the most inspiring. Chay spreads out his flannel for them to sit on, and feeds Kim dry packet ramen and stale shrimp chips he got free from a university event. He didn't even buy a drink, they survive off a mostly full bottle of grape soda Chay stole off a friend.

(It's a magical evening for Kim, obviously. Ferreting out little hidden spaces hand-in-hand with Chay, enjoying the nighttime air curled together, eating terrible cheap food that somehow tastes good? This is DOING things to him. He will be bringing a guitar and minimum two water bottles with him next time tho.)

#kinnporsche #kimchay #fic: gone fishing #fic headcanons #this almost counts as fic lmao #anyways kimchay zero baht dates my BELOVED let chay open kim's eyes to a whole new world his rich kid ass never knew existed #kim: u know its okay to spend papa's money right? #chay: don't be silly p'kim electronic money isn't real

[copperbadge]

I'm starting to think one reason (of many) you're such a good writer is you think in words instead of mental images. It could make it easier to express yourself in words to other people. When I write I have to try to fully express what's on in the three dimensional, surround sound smellovision cinema in my head, and I will never be able to do that.

I do wonder -- whether for good or ill it has definitely had an impact. (For new readers, I have aphantasia, the lack of a "mental eye" or inner visual world, which you can read more about in the "aphantasia fantasia" tag; it's disproportionately common to neurodiverse individuals, along with poor autobiographical memory). I don't know if it's better training for expression, because without knowing how words invoke mental images I don't really know how effective I'm being, but I think it does make for easier first drafts. And probably some of the popularity of my fanfic in specific is that it allows people to project a good deal onto the story/characters, because I tend to keep the visual details vague.

One of the longest-running complaints about my work is that it's much of a muchness, all my characterizations and stories are the same. While on the one hand that's obviously not a compliment, I think that is also attached to the fact that I'm not very visually specific, so not entirely my fault; if people are reading the same things into my work over and over it's probably because of a lack of imagination on their part as well. (I've tried to work on this as a skill, but I'm aware that haters gonna hate, so I don't take envy-driven criticism too much to heart anymore.) I think it's less homogeneity than it is simple vagueness.

But yeah also I would imagine if you're driven to give a very specific visual impression it would be SUPER frustrating if you feel like you can't, either because there aren't words or because you don't feel you have the skills yet. A lot of skill in writing is just practice, but "just practice" is a real minimizing phrase. I'm not someone who subscribes to the idea that talent doesn't matter, because I think it does; I think it's much easier to practice when you derive pleasure from the thing you're practicing, which I think is linked to talent.

Yeah, I dunno. Certainly it explains why most of my early adult writing was in theatre, where you're leaving a lot up to the designers and director in any case.

Rutherford & Fry did a podcast episode about aphantasia that I should probably get back to listening to, but I can't listen to much of it at once; some of it is the sense of being perceived, but some of it is also envy, because they talk to someone who has aphantasia but not ADHD and she's like "Yeah my mind is super quiet, it's nice" and I may not see images or hear noises in my head but still somehow manage a truly inconvenient level of chaos there. :D

#an aphantasia fantasia #aphantasia #sam has adhd

[allbluedepths]

I'm a fan of truth serum trope fics, but for something slightly adjacent to that: something (magic/actual serum/Devil Fruit) that makes the recipient "truthful" in that they lower their emotional walls. Nothing extreme or unrealistic, but enough to make typically reserved individuals much more open and vibrant with their expressions.

Aka, the perfect target for this is Mihawk. Doubly so if Mishanks is involved.

Mihawk gets hit by Devil Fruit powers that inflict this during a Warlord mission. Already not great. Also not great: in a rare occasion of pre-planning visits, he's already made plans with Shanks to drop by an island they're docked at nearby. He could just not go — Shanks would understand, albeit be disappointed — but Mihawk uncomfortably realizes he doesn't want that. (Worse, he knows that disappointment is showing on his face, far more obvious than it’d ever be otherwise.)

He arrives at the Red Force, attempting to get himself out of the crew’s view as soon as possible to avoid any mishaps… but seeing Shanks himself gives it away, if the warm smile that instantly blooms across his face says anything. Despite the distinct embarrassment he’s feeling as he registers the crew’s reactions, he expects Shanks to be ecstatic, to finally have the chance to see Mihawk just as free with his emotions as Shanks is.

But Shanks hates it. That’s obvious to everyone, in both his sudden clenched jaw and a brief flash of haywire haki. He shooes everyone away and swiftly takes Mihawk to his cabin with orders for Beckmann to keep everyone well and truly away.

They get to Shanks’ cabin. Mihawk is confused, and a bit hurt, and he knows it's showing because Shanks looks both guilty and upset as he explains: Shanks doesn't hate the idea of seeing Mihawk being expressive, but he hates the fact that it's not Mihawk's choice. He respects and loves Mihawk as he is, he always has, and he doesn't take pleasure in seeing his rival-lover-everything beheld to someone else's will.

(He also admits, more embarrassed than his usual lack of shame allows, that if Mihawk was going to be stuck like this for a bit, he selfishly wants to keep him all to himself despite what he just said. Because he’s spent so long coaxing out every little reaction and savoring them, and now Mihawk shows up on his deck smiling widely at him in front of everyone, and he knows that’s not right but—)

Mihawk cuts him off with a kiss and a smile that’s brighter than normal but just as warm as his usual, private ones for Shanks. Of course he would react nobly like that. (And if his possessive streak does something for Mihawk… well, that’s his business.) He manages to save some of his dignity and express it more in his usual manner, but he wouldn’t have still come if he didn’t trust Shanks with this new development. (His expression definitely gives him away this time, though.)

Point being, they end up spending the day or so while it wears off holed up together, without Mihawk feeling the need to fight it off as he would outside the cabin or answer anyone’s prying questions. Shanks keeps his word and doesn’t invoke any strong reactions — but he does mentally preserve the image of a truly relaxed Mihawk, content to bide his time reading and napping in his bed.

(And if Mihawk eventually suggests some other activities in bed to take advantage of this short-lived change… well, they’ve got a whole day to burn.)

#mishanks #dracule mihawk #red haired shanks #one piece #opla #akagami no shanks #takanome mihawk #akataka #fic ideas #this basically became a mini fic outline #very much not proofread either this is me tossing out ideas haha