#I like the design and probably work on it more

[screampied]

❝ HOLLABACK GIRL . . ! ❞

ᡴꪫ sum. you wanna be his favorite girl—but you also wanna be his favorite brat. satoru’s caught off guard when you decide to play with him while he’s in a meeting. not only do you make him pissed but you make him whine.

wc. 7.0k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo au, age gap (early twenties + thirties) office setting, semi-public, unprotected, switch satoru, implied multiple rounds, fıngering, brief masterbatiōn (m! receiving), hold the moan, mild brat taming, dirty talk, praise, spıt, cunnilıngus, breath play, impact play, brēeding, premature ejaculatıon, edging.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist

being satoru gojo’s sugar baby has its perks,

especially the days whenever you want to be a brat— he takes you everywhere, even to work with him. the thought of leaving you alone at home was a thought he wasn’t so fond of. mainly because, knowing you, you’d probably be a brat and touch yourself while he’s not there. you’ve done it before, more than once actually. and now, you wanted to be an even more brat.

“ . . sweetheart,” he murmurs, feeling an unfamiliar lump get caught in his throat. leaning back against his office chair, the material of the seat creaks from the pounds of weight leaning back against the furniture as his eyes flicker toward your hand. its placement, directly near his zipped open fly. gojo sat manspread, slut. and if you squint, you could make out the outline of his designer expensive satoru blue boxers. his colleagues around him are deep in conversation and he grabs your wrist. “heh, i know you want me but ‘m workin'. be a good girl ‘n—.”

“it’s boring, ‘toru,” you pout, and he feels your fingers intertwine with his. softly, he returns the gesture before you get up from your chair. with a quirking brow, gojo shifts his attention back toward the conversation. glancing at his watch, a gasp then wretches from his throat once he realizes you weren’t next to him anymore. you were underneath the table, staring him dead in the eyes and licking your tongue all around his aroused bulge. your tongue slides its way against the tasteless material and he groans, his eyes widening.

“f- fuck,” he has a sheepish grin, whispering before grabbing ahold of your hair. yanking you forward, his legs spread more and he swallows again. “baby, when i asked if ya wanted somethin’ to eat, this wasn’t what i m- meant.”

his voice was incredibly low — its pitch was enough to make you throb. the way he spoke, it was as if he was holding back a potential whine. 

you were no fool though, you heard the cute little tremor lingering underneath his voice. but damn it all, you were gonna be the death of him. gojo keeps flicking his eyes back towards his colleagues, then back towards you, then back toward his colleagues again. 

you were right between his legs, crouched down on your knees like a good girl—bright eyed and bushy tailed.

he’s still got a solidly secure grip on your hair, lengthy tips of his fingernails massaging near your tender scalp. 

“mr. satoru, at least try to pay attention to the presentation,” one of his assistant’s grouse in slight vex.

the white haired man tugs on his sable black tie with long legs still manspread. with a hand combing through his hair, he coyly smiles. “oh, apologies. ‘m listening, carry o-on,” and his voice trails off once he feels your tongue slither its way against his bulge a bit more. with the help of the tip of your tongue, you create an addictive circle near the fly of his pants. a nice amount of his boxers pokes out and you bring down a hand to feel. he was hard, the moment a brief wind of your breath fans against him, he almost chokes. if you squinted just enough, you could see a few white speckles of hair trail up and up near his navel. gojo had quite the happy trail, you run a thumb against the curled strands before his breath hitches. “mhm hm, yeah.. exactly, i think that’s the—the uh, best approach for the company.”

you stopped listening to their boring conversation a long time ago—he’s loved this bratty side of you more than anything, but the risk of getting caught was so high. 

besides, he’s always been one to tease and edge you. maybe perhaps this was his inevitable karma. 

gojo feels his thigh start to bounce, feeling your cold fingers rummage through the material of his pants. your touch sends him shivers and your playful direct eye contact makes his dick twitch in his pants. 

“fuckin’ brat,” he swears through his teeth, an almost smile going against his lips. 

you being on your knees like this was an image he never got tired of seeing. gojo allows you to pull his long slacks down, halfway but not fully. you were lazy like that, impatient and a greedy girl. one of the many things he’s loved about you. 

what he doesn’t expect though is to see you rub your face against his bulge—it’s so rock hard that you can feel the print against your cheek. with the fabric rubbing against your face, smearing against your skin, it’s just downright dirty. obscene and straight up filthy. 

his breath quickly switches to a more heavy and shaky pattern as he intently watches you, completely forgetting the current eyes of his colleagues on him. the grip he has against your hair grows tighter before his head subtly tosses back in rapture. “nasty girl,” he starts to pant, his voice a mere whisper. seeing your tongue lick against the material of his boxers ingnites something deep in his core. biting his lip, he tugs your head closer before pouting. “quit teasin’ suck alrea-”

“excuse me?”

gojo has a flustered expression, staring back up at the main colleague who’s speaking. 

“i mean— nasty, this coffee is nasty,” he makes an attempt to correct himself, feeling the dryness in the air. the five eyes that glue to him made him feel small, despite him being the only important one in the room. with a sheepish chortle, he clears his throat. “is it hot in here for you all? feels like we’re in the damn sahara, heh.”

“mr. satoru, the air conditioner’s been on. are you sure you’re alright?”

he bites back a moan, not even realizing how you’d already sprung his cock out. with a single hand, you wrap it around his base before giving his tip a sloppy kiss. half lidded eyes take in the sight of his dick — so pretty. 

it’s got a reddened tip, swollen and almost pinkish at first glance. the very undersides near the base was painted with a beige tan and he’s got a bit of a hooking curve. curvy and upward, gojo was far lengthy more than girthy. 

albeit, he had maybe a sprinkle of girth. once the cool air sets against his skin, he grunts. as you’re face first with his staggering dick standing tall right before your eyes, you can’t help but bedaub the flatness of your tongue near his leaky tip.

you couldn’t wait to taste it.

to taste him, 

the bittersweet droplets of pre-cum coat against your tongue all at once and he gnaws his lip almost immediately. you’re nothing but a tease. a damn fine tease with those pretty glossed lips pursing all for him and only him. 

“r- right … right,” he nods at the men, trying to maintain focus but your tongue wasn’t helping. 

you were now making out with his length, smothering the entirety of his cock with a multitude of your tender sweet kisses. gojo being manspread like this, long legs all spread and sprawled for you — it makes you a bit moist.

moist to where you can’t help but creep an arm down between your own thighs. already, you felt your panties getting in a twist. he catches you making an attempt to play with your achy clit and he glares. 

gojo didn’t like whenever you touched yourself. he considered your pussy to be his pussy, 

but it seemed that for today, that wasn’t the case. 

as your fingers creep underneath your skirt, shoving past your panties, you scrape them to the side. his chest heaves, dragging your face further toward his heat to encourage more of your sloppy kisses against his dick. your lips were plushy and soft. a tongue of yours then carnally slides its way down against the pulsing vein that prods on him. “ugh.” he gawks at you with fully blown pupils, fighting the urge to just shove your entire head down. 

you were being the biggest brat, he could see that tantalizing smile forming on your lips. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so flustered before—he’s always been the one dominant and stern, and now . . you had him right where you wanted. 

the moment your lips swirl around the crown head of his cock, viscous honeyed strings of drool seep out from the corners of your mouth instantly. 

it’s unintentionally attractive. your own slippery sweet saliva pours from your mouth, to your chest, and then toward near his base. you’re teasing, bringing a hand toward your tits as it’s now covering with spit, lolling your tongue out to lap it more against his tip. gojo groans at you entirely, hooded eyes catching you starting to fondle with his neglected balls. “y- you cheeky little,” he nervously grins, and you hear him smack his teeth in frustration. he was so uptight. 

you’re really slow, it’s almost painful at how much of a tease you were. bobbing your head up and down to have your throat adjust to his size, you giggle. gulp after gulp after gulp and it’s already thwacking against the roof of your precious mouth. you don’t know how anyone didn’t hear the wet, lewd sounds of paps ricocheting from your mouth and onto his dick but you weren’t complaining. your tongue seductively glissades against his swollen mushroom tip and he jerks your hair forward. 

“mhm,” he glances up at his colleagues who all share the same deadpan. they were fed up with their boss — clearly no idiots, the same suspicious expression plastered amongst each face.

with a taken aback whew, gojo swipes a palm across his forehead as your throat’s keeping his cock warm. “a- alright, think we’re ready to close for today. thank ya fellas.”

“but the meeting literally just started.”

“you wanna look under this table ‘n see why ‘m ending the meeting early? we’re done.”

the audacity for one of his colleagues to try and take a peek under the oval-shaped banner desk and gojo glares before feeling your tongue tease its way down his shaft more. “leave. we’ll f- fuck, pick up tomorrow.”

making haste in unison, the businessmen all leave individually. loud booming stomps of the backs of their shoes thump and drag against the wooden floor before the room’s finally quiet. once the coast was clear, he makes you stare at him and a hand pries you off of his dick a glower shown on his pouty face.

“sweetheart,” he murmurs, a visibly tremor still hidden in his voice. it’s sweet, strands of white hair, similar to bangs, run straight down his face. even his unkempt, messily slicked back hair was still appealing. with doe, dilated irises, you leer up at him, knees still dug into the ground. “you’ve got some nerve, ya know? playin’ ‘n suckin’ me off in front of my c- colleagues like that.”

his voice timidly falters once you take a moment to gather up a decent wad of saliva into your mouth before spitting on his tip, lapping it up before swirling your tongue around the dampened tip. he groans, pulling you right back to face him. “you’re bein’ fuckin’ bratty today. ‘s like you wanna get in trouble, baby.”

“toru, your meetings take forever,” you chastise with a pout, your right hand still tucked between your thighs. he scoffs once he sees your fingers crammed up into your pussy, barely knuckles deep. oh, you were drenched. he could smell your alluring scent clogging up his nostrils from a mile away. peering up at the man, you finally get up from your knees and take a seat on his lap. “besides, don’t think i ever heard you whine before.”

“watch it,” he grumbles, white brows tugging together in annoyance. “and stop touchin’ her,” he grabs your wrist, a glossed string of your own arousal trailing away from your sopping cunt. “little girl,” he gently wraps a few fingers around your throat, cerulean eyes staring into the depths of your soul. “jus’ ‘cause ya had a little fun doesn’t mean you can let those pathetic fingers do whatever they please.”

with a teasing grin, you lean in to kiss against his mouth, a brief feeling of his growing stubble tickling against your skin. “my fingers aren’t pathetic, satoru.”

“oh yeah?” and with a quick drag, he sneaks a long kiss against your mouth, a free hand feeling against your wet folds. your body responds to his touch by twitching, you grind against his lap before moaning. you taste the cooking mint of his breath breeze its way against your tongue before he pulls away, making you turn around. “the nerve,” and you whine once he swats a palm toward your ass hard. it’s loud, ringing through your ears and the thin, bouncy walls also. “can’t even make yourself cum let alone squirt but whatever you say, silly girl.”

and that’s the exact moment gojo stands up—

he’s lean and slim, towering over your body by a mile. you bite your lip as you’re being shoved face first against meaningless paperwork before feeling him slide a thumb down your swollen, opening slit. he’s amused at how quickly you soak a single digit of his. “guess we woke up ‘n decided to be ‘toru’s little slut, huh,” and your pussy was so welcoming. with your pussy all droopy and drooling with your own candied slick running down like the niagra—he can’t help but slap it to watch it smear all against the center of his palm. “walkin’ around with a pussy this wet. oughta be ashamed, sweet thing.”

“s- satoru,” you whimper, hearing a few footsteps shift before he gets down to your ass level. scorchingly warm breath fans against your cunt before he rubs the tip of his nose against your slit. “don’t tease me, f- fuuuck.”

“i'll do whatever i want to this pretty girl, darlin,” and he brings a sloppy kiss toward your cunt. a cobweb of spit leaves his lips not even a millisecond later and he savors the taste. “mhm,” and he whistles by your pussy, a low seductive tune before hearing a low snicker depart from his lips. “now spread these legs f’me. my tongue’s fuckin’ missed you.”

everything was so lewd. you being bent over his desk, his breath blowing against your cunt, the enticingly low whistling, his tongue slowly swirling its way inside, everything.

your mouth slowly opens, tiny babbles of moans pouring from your throat like water out a working faucet. 

his lips stuck against your pussy like glue. as if it was some sort of adhesive. sticky and fucking clingy. the moment gojo had his lips against your cunt, it was no prying him off— he was a bit of a munch. although, munch was an understatement. gojo satoru lived eat and breathed pussy, especially yours, his precious little sugar baby.

every few seconds he pulls away, a pussydrunk grin forms across his crooked pink lips. the sounds of your sweet sobbing cries only fuel him, not only does it fuel him but it’s so loud that it rings through the frail walls of the corridor. it was a pretty spacey room. with the mixture of cacophonous white noise—the fax machine makes a repetitive spitting sound way off in the distance. a plethora of papers scatter across his desk and your face was voluntarily going back and forth against them. 

“aw, not you runnin’ from my tongue, sweetheart,” he purrs, breaking back to watch your cute little squirm. you make a little attempt of moving forward but he only grabs onto your hip. “nah, ‘m not done eating,” and you gasp once he lolls his pink, clean tongue all the way out. gojo had a long tongue—very great in length and perfect to reach all the crevices of your pussy. and it’s gojo satoru, he’s thorough and he makes sure to slurp every ounce of your fervor out of you if it’s the last thing he has to do. his tongue was now flat, and now it drags against your slit, sucking against your tender skin. “taste so mhm, sweet. ‘s too much for you?”

“n- no,” you mewl out, your cunt recognizing every direction of his tongue. in and out, through and through, he knows the exact angles where to go. you’re soaked, drenching on the twitching muscle that’s vigorously flicking and tweaking inside of you before your toes curl. “satoru, what if one of your c- colleagues come back again?”

“after suckin’ me off, that’s what you’re worried about, pretty?” touché.

as he’s teasing you, a thumb of his ghosts down your soddened folds. you whine, feeling your breathing pick up at a rapid speed. whiplash swiftly surges through you before you feel his thumb poke against your untouched hole. instantaneously, you let off a pitchy squeal before the suction against his mouth accelerates. “oooh, ‘s right there, yeah. gimme a better arch though, don’t be a lazy wet girl. even i can arch better than that, sweetheart.”

you whine, shivering manically the moment he presents a sloppy kiss against your weeping folds. sliding a free finger down your cunt, he annexes two more fattened digits along to join before inserting them in slowly. your jaw hangs like an earring but more so pleasure. the sensation was so crude, mind boggling even.

you’re already so stupid, the thickness of his digits shoving inside of you prods and pokes right between your stretchy walls and your back arches. “whewww,” he whistles again against your pussy, humming at the way your ass jerks from his touch. you’re so sensitive—his warm breath, so warm that it’s almost a frigidly cold temperature. a mixture that’s got you confused but in the best way. “atta girllll, arch that ass ‘n give me a proper show. just like i taught ya, baby.” and he spanks your ass before caressing your stinging cheek seconds later.

your whines grow pitchier and pitchier to where they’re just reverberating across the walls. it was an almost echo of your voice—almost as if you were a siren. with his lengthy fingers still buried into the depths of your cunt, he collects a decent amount of saliva before spitting it against your slick heat. he spats right against your pussy and it lands like fresh paint. he chuckles, hearing you whimper for him to do it again. “t- toruuu,” you moan, bottom lip all swollen from the way it was ruinously chewed up. simultaneously, you get even more drenched as if that’s of any surprise. his nose prods against your cunt, swiping all near your slit’s opening as you grind against his face and he snickers. eating you from the back had to be one of his favorite pastimes. once he laughs, you feel the hot vibrations of his amusement pulse through your cunt and it makes you moan. “f- fuck, ‘s good. more please, don’t s- stop.”

“i probably should stop,” he groans, feeling his exposed dick twitch at the sight of you. your arousal turns him on a lot more than he thought it would. he can’t help but bring one of his hands down to stroke himself. he hoarsely grunts right into your cunt, feeling his thumb brush against that same pulsating vein. “this pussy’s so ungrateful, listen to her tryna talk back to me,” and your brows part in desire once he gives you yet another spank against your clit. your sopping wet that’s all slippery and saturated, coating his entire palm with a good amount of your slick. “rude ‘n a slutty brat just like her owner.”

“s- satoru, ‘m close,” you babble as he continues to speak to your pussy.

your voice was a cute desperate battle cry, begging for your approaching release. his tongue with the add of his two long digits sliding in and out makes you weak. your knees were shaking rabidly, so close to relatively buckling before your eyes roll far back into your hollow little cranium.

that’s when two of his fingers curl in deeper. gojo’s knuckles deep, and you’re about to lose it if he inserts one more. it feels sinfully so good, a pool of throbbing heat stirs its way inside of your tummy. he’s got a fine bowling ball grip inside of your cunt. two fingers, middle and ring, slowly easing its way in and out, in and out. almost as if it was some sort of relaxing mediation. they piston inward against your squeezing walls for a bit before the length of his digits miraculously locates your pretty g-spot. “gonna cum. o- oh my god, ‘toru. satoruuuu.”

“don’t cum on me,” he warns, his tone still playful. as he’s continuing to create a wet trail near the crevices of your thighs, his strokes against his dick increases. grunt after grunt leaves his throat before he nibbles on your clit. “not yet, sweet thing. only good girls are allowed ‘ta cum on my tongue. ‘n you haven’t been a good girl, have ya?”

“y- yes,” you stammer, the hotness of his breath making your pulsing enlarge and multiply. your head’s spinning, heart’s racing miles a minute, and your throat feels dry. the moment that simple syllable leaves from your mouth, he gives your pussy a teasing little bite. “f- fuck, ‘toru.”

he snickers. “don’t lie, girl,” and he was already pussydrunk. guilty as charged, a snail-like-trail of your own slithery slick runs down his chin. it’s shiny, and if you squint it’s almost as if it had glitter. dragging his fat thumb and other fingers out of your cunt, he finally gets up and pries his lips away. you pout at the feeling of nothing, you feel almost empty. it’s so sudden and abrupt that you barely even have time to react. “mhm,” he licks his lips, tugging on his tie from feeling a sudden wave of heat. “get up baby. ‘m finished.”

“but—”

“aw, someone unsatisfied?” he utters with a sly eyebrow compressing upward. two rough hands spin you around, pulling you into a sultry deep kiss. everything feels hot— each time you kiss him, your heart races and you can feel yourself floating. not to be cheesy, but it felt pretty cheesy. the more your lips crash with this man, the more your heart was trying to send you a signal. you didn’t know what signal that was, but you were desperate to find out just what it might be. you whine as your arms instinctively throw around his broad shoulders. he’s still wearing a suit and tie. lazily, his slacks were halfway on and pulled down. gojo runs a hand through his slick back hair before hamming your thigh wrap around his waist. “you make me crazy on purpose, huh,” he pulls away for a bit, lapping up your own flavor from your bottom lip. tasting yourself against gojo, it never failed to make you throb. you pout, not liking to be edged but it had your veins going on a rampage anyway. glowing blue eyes stare back into you before he cups your chin. “no back talk? so sad, mhm,” and a thumb of his skims against your lips, trying to spread them apart. “open that bratty mouth again, sweetheart.”

you whine, feeling his knee creep its way up between your legs. your heat, he could feel it. it wasn’t the room being hot but instead, you in particular. 

as your lips abide and part, he leans in and a cunning grin stretches against his pink lips. gojo satoru was playing a dangerous game—the more he spent time with you, the more he started to feeling something. 

was it lust or was it . . 

only time could tell. 

“atta fuckin’ girl,” and he tilts your chin upward before spitting right into your mouth. it’s damp, splattering against the tip of your tongue before he groans. you reach down to touch yourself and he grabs your wrist. “heh, you’re not gonna get off to this, baby. nice try, now swallow,” and he watches you obey, swallowing for him. you moan, feeling him create staticky friction with just his knee. “nasty woman,” he purrs, eyes flickering toward your spit-glossed lips.

you had a look of pure lust,

the human embodiment of the word actually. “we don’t touch ourselves, silly girl,” and he plants a kiss against your mouth. instantly, you taste his candied flavor and a mixture of your own before he pulls away. strands of spit pull its way back from each lip that it’s like a pretty lewd yo-yo string—but made solely of spit.

taking a moment to breathe, still panting and his chest deflating every few seconds, he pulls you close. his cologne, it’s loud and rich.

two words to perfectly describe the older man right before you. 

“careful, baby. startin’ ‘ta think you’re getting obsessed with me,” he titters, flicking a tongue against his naturally glossed  lips. he sits up, finalizing the remaining distance between you. 

a burly brawny fit body grinds up against you, the friction of his suit rubbing against you makes your heart race. it’s beating and beating, booming and booming like speakers. you can hear each individual pulse bang through one ear and out the other. gojo lifts you up with two arms, treating you like a precious doll. in a way, that’s exactly what you were to him.

porcelain.

he didn’t want to break you—at least not yet. 

instinctively, your legs wrap around his waist as he gets ahold of you. it’s slim and quite snatched and your ankle teasingly runs down the reddened lines of his back. gojo grunts, feeling the cold material of the anklet he bought you skim down his skin. engraved on a few of the chained, ashen charms had his initials of the two letters of his first and last name. ‘g’ for gojo and ‘s’ for satoru. the anklet was a resplendent silver color. thinking about how much it might have cost him made your stomach churn. 

like always, he’d shower you with anything in the world. speaking of, he’d buy you the world if he could. he’s gojo satoru, he can afford it. 

your heel and the way it roams down the areas of his tense back alone was seductive. gojo gruffly groans, crashing his lips onto you for the nth time. he couldn’t help it, he was a mere feen for you. for your taste, you were addictive like a drug and he didn’t want a cure—you were dangerous.

a whiney moan slides past your mouth once his warm body ruts against you. 

his boner, 

you felt it, his pants were already off but it still pokes at you. it was hard and pent up, you could almost feel your mouth filling itself up a nice pool of saliva in preparation. all due to your arising anticipation—you wanted gojo just as much as he wanted you. the wait was killing your, the tension was simply brutal. but perhaps the both of you had different definitions of want.  

craving . . noun, a powerful desire for something. 

the more gojo’s tongue shoves down your throat, the more he craves you. you had an sweetened taste to you, it was so sugary sweet that he just couldn’t put it into words. with tongues passionately fighting for dominance—gojo bringing a hand toward your chest to squeeze against your left tit, you tilt your head back. his touch alone was enough to get you off. you hear a low grunt run from his lips the minute he feels you grind back against him. gojo was a greedy man. 

wealthy, but very much greedy.

being with you only made him ten times greedier. he couldn’t take it anymore—your grinding makes him curse under his breath. gojo grabs ahold of his cock, aligning himself before smearing his tip against your achy entrance. so moist, so sweet, the way your slick clings against him the second he grabs his dick back makes him groan. “fuckin’ sloppy,” he huffs, bright eyes staring at the lewd sight. with jagged breathing, gojo makes you lie flat down on his desk. he didn’t really care about the documented papers now being crumbled up and scattered. “mhm, you’re so pretty when you’re pissed off. ‘s the edging irritating you baby?”

“y- yes,” you whine, and he rolls his eyes, making your leg extend further out. he slings it over his shoulder before within seconds, he’s bottoming out.

it’s snug but it fits—it takes everything within him to not break right then and there. your warmth, it makes him bite his lip, taking a moment to suck in a single breath of fresh air. fuck.

“aw, ‘s too bad,” he hums, and you let off a moan once the head of his cock delves its way more inside. one thrust, just one single thrust and you’re already dumb of cock. your walls were attatched more than anything, mindlessly clinging onto him like a koala. you didn’t want to let go, you’re holding him captive with just your insides. “s- shiiiit.” 

his cockiness wears down, feeling just how tight you were for a moment. it’s warm, almost lukewarm. he’s burying himself further into you before leaning up close to your trembling body to get a closer look of your pretty features.

with blown azul pupils, he stares at your body and gazes in awe at how you’re just a sloppy, quavering mess underneath him.

his sloppy quavering mess underneath him,

gojo’s pace starts off to be decent, then turns straight feral. once he tosses his head back, he then feels the secure lock of your legs wrapping around his waist in response. “f- fuck, pretty. c’mon, take the stretch. jus’ like ya always do,” and his words were deep but shaky. even gojo was losing a bit of his haughty momentum. your pussy had some sort of spell that’s making him go insane, he could never get enough.

each clamp makes him go mad. smacks and claps amongst skin makes you suck your teeth in desperation for more. “ugh. fuckin’ sloppy girl. niiiice stretch, yeah baby. eyes up here, wanna see those eyes roll for me,” and he grabs you gently by the neck, a kiss making its way toward your mouth. gojo’s so pretty up close, droopy eyes and white bangs covering his face. tears of sweat running from each sides of his thinly arched brows. “good girl. keep lookin’ up here, eyes on me.”

your eyes look up toward him and he cockily cheeses, pearly whites baring a single fang at you that it’s sexy. you wanted to wipe that smug, dumb grin right off his face.

“s- satoru, fuck me h- harderrrr,” and your little pleads makes his dick twitch inside of you. he’s lengthy, you feel him reach deep deep angles that’s enough to make you drool again. but you already were drooling, tiny trails of saliva pour out from the corners of your lips as your mouth dangles open. a noise was about to come out, but it halts. his tip was so familiar with the layout of your cunt that it takes him no time to reach that spot. an itch scratches itself way into the back of your brain once he reaches there. hearing your harmonic moans turn into pure symphonies. your noises alone was purely euphonic to him. a song he’d listen to on repeat all day if he could—your whines and beloved whimpers. “right there, p- please. pleaseee.”

“heh, can ya be any louder sweetheart?” he jibes, feeling your anklet hit and hit all against his arm.

your back arches against the desk, biting on your lip before you start to twitch. the moment he shoves your knees up to your chest, oh it’s over. it’s so over.

not only was it dirty, but the feeling of it all was simply euphoric . . almost indescribable.

gojo’s cock drags its way through you so good that it leaves you speechless. you’re at a loss for words, unable to comprehend anything in your brain with his zigzagging salacious thrusts. whilst his fat cock stuffs you deep—goopy walls haul and yank back and forth against his length.

with parching, grinding bodies against each other, breaths irregular and out of pace, it was a sight. you’re struggling to maintain eye contact and he finds it cute. “mhm, o- oh, are ya tryna tell me something?” and he simpers, watching you grab his arm to pierce your teeth into it. bite marks in a cute circle form—printing against his skin and he raises a brow, quickening his pace. “kinky girl. still mad at bein’ edged i see.”

sharp chiseled hips drill into you and you’re barely able to keep up with his pace—you whine, momentarily feeling his hanging sack slap against your cunt. you could taste your orgasm, it was right there. so so close, your championing legs fail to remain still the entire time. grabbing one of your legs up again, he even licks a trail near your leg to your ankle. gojo’s stamina was simply out of this world. easily, he could be compared to a stallion. his pace was rough yet deep with a sparkle of passion and thoroughness. if it was anything gojo knew how to do, he knew how to make a woman feel good. “mmf, s- satoru, lemme cum. please, please please,” you babble, feeling your body shake underneath him. the desk grumbles and roars from the pressing weight, and he’s panting—puffy clouds of air forming out from his lips. “wanna c- cum.”

with a coy grin, he moves his body further into you. he’s so close that his skin sticks against yours.

it’s hot, scorchingly hot with such intensity that it’s driving you insane. with glossed lips, gojo licks near your neck. specifically, that spot near your collarbone that makes you whine. with his lips sliding near your ear, he whispers in a teasing, gruff tone. “mhmmm, you wanna cum with me baby? ‘s that what you want?” and as he speaks, his adam’s apple bobs. with his dick still tucked into you, gojo purrs against your skin. “think ya deserve that, pretty?”

“y- yes,” you whimper, bodies moving together in syncing harmony. as you’re being fucked on his the table-like desk, a few edges of thin papers bristle up against your skin. whines shriek out from your throat before your arms throw itself around him. “wanna cum with you, ‘toru. lemme cum. ‘s close, need to cum.” 

“you don’t need shit, girl,” he grips your chin, rubbing a thumb against your lips. gojo’s pace gets quicker, mean thrusts slam into you so good that you forget your middle name. a school of pitchy moans die out from your vocal chord and you gasp once you end up finishing anyway. it’s like a flash, quick and barely able to process what happened. your body shakes in response, jerking with him still inside and you let off a cute squeal. it’s like a wave crashing through you at full speed. the moment you cream on his cock, gojo pauses. an unpredictable tsunami. “oh,” and with his twitching dick still buried into your sopping cunt, he pulls out. “did you just cum on me before i-”

and it’s as if it was right on cue— right as gojo spoke, he ends up finishing too.

talk about perfect timing. it was early, so so early.

too early.

a growling groan tears from him as he’s dumping a hot load into you. it comes out in thick cloudy spurts. your legs continue to wrap around him like a ribbon on a gift, securing him tightly and he gasps. “s- shit, ‘s too early,” and his voice shakes within each embarrassing word that spews from his lips.

gojo slumps into you, leaning in to kiss you. once you return the gesture, he groans, sliding his tongue inside. warm, feverish lips move in tavern before he whines right into your mouth. the moment you grab ahold of his now flaccid dick, he whines again.

your touch, it was fiery like electricity. gojo’s flustered, white strands of hair glue by his forehead and he can���t help but suck against your lip. 

it was dangerous. you were dangerous,

with tongues colliding and clashing back and forth, teeth gnashing all together, a hand of his snakes between your thighs. you gasp, lips parting open so he could get better access and he squeezes a hand against your soddenly wet cunt. rawly, a moan tears out from your throat as you sling your arms over his shoulders for a final time. “s- satoru,” you murmur breathlessly and he silences your words with another deep kiss.

and another, and another,

and by now, you both forgot exactly where you were. having not a single doubt in the world, totally forgetting you were in an office. as you’re still feeling a surge of emotions coarse through your veins, he lifts you up—you watch with a needy gazing glint in your eyes as he slouches back against the chair. “baby,” he whimpers, sprawling his legs out. with a sleazy, worn out grin, gojo rubs a hand against his lap—the g-shock watch that wraps around his wrist clanking against his thigh the more he moves. ushering you over with two fingers, he pouts. “c’mere. don’t be s- shy.”

he was fucked dumb, 

his lungs were strained and he wanted more.

more of you.

the moment you straddle him, your sloshing wet cunt rubs against his hardened cock and he groans. “fuck,” he breathes, clenching his jaw tight. with a glance down, he stares at the way you were all flooded with ropes and ropes of hot cum. it’s slimy, the way it oozes out of your hole and down toward your thighs, he’s so close to getting a taste himself. but instead—he’s more hungry for your lips. “mhm, gimme another kiss, baby.”

you lean in, pressing your warm lips against his. as always, gojo’s sloppy, running his tongue throughout your mouth, tracing the inside of its structure. humid breaths fan amongst each other before he squeezes your ass only to spank it afterward. time’s been lost, it’s probably been hours and gojo satoru had the stamina equivalent to a horse. another round occurs, then another, and he’s just blinded from your pussy at this point.

needless to say, you’ve never seen him so . . submissive. 

he’s whining for you to touch him more, to kiss him, even whisper sweet nothings into his ear. 

after being pumped with sloppy masses of load again and again to your heart’s content, you’ve never felt more full. literally though, it’s so much that it could barely plug its way inside anymore. the sight of his cum dribbling out of your cunt makes him lick his lips. he’s hungry for more and only you could fulfill his appetite.

gojo’s between you with your legs still grasped around his slim waist like a vice. panting heavily, a hand of his cups your face—exhaling a deep, pitchy sigh. the tips of his pointy ears burn a feverish temperature. it’s so hot, you could almost feel his heat radiate onto you. as you return his obscene gaze, he groans as his now soft dick remains idle inside of your clingy stretchy walls. seconds to miliseconds go by before gojo collapses into your neck. 

perhaps you rode him to death. 

“sweet . . thing, you’re so . . pretty,” he hiccups, moving his chin up to stare at your ethereal after state. he got lost in your eyes—your pussy did wonders because he was literally unable to speak for a good minute. with lowly hooded eyelids, you’re breathing irregularly yourself with your breath seeming like it’s gonna be your last. 

you’ve got a sheepish smile, trapping his waist with your shaky thighs. “toru, did i overdo it?” you attempt to tease, giving him a sneaking kiss near the corner of his mouth. his lips twitch, and he slumps back against his office chair. still, you feel the remnants of his hot cum pour continuously, leaking out a bit way down the inner crevices of your thighs. your full lungs could barely keep up with gojo’s pace. his pace—you were still recovering from it. you were in a mere delirious state of your own as you’re trying to compel yourself from your most recent high.

as gojo shakes his head—you could clearly tell he was lying. “n- no,” and he huffs, pressing a kiss against your forehead. “fuck, ‘s still cummin’ princess.”

with an incoming whine rudely snatching it’s way from your spit slicked lips, your body slumps backward. all you’re feeling is nirvana, a feeling that was blissful and utterly hard to describe with simplistic words. gojo’s still plugging you full with not only inches of himself but lots of his feverish, velvety ropes of cum. the way you succumb into your own pleasure with him, it’s pretty to see. your eyes has a glow to them and so does his. 

your own eyes roll themselves back as you give in to the your own elation. 

each body twitches from the various elated sensations, staticky electricity piercing through your veins before your legs finally sag back. with a breathy moan, you pull gojo’s head up a bit. “f- fuck,” and as you grip his snowy strands, with half-lidded eyes, you’re met with his pussy drunk state. he looks so pretty, a mere flustered tint paints over his face as his chin’s pouring with your slick even still. “you did so good, ‘toru. so so good,” and you lean up to his ear, whispering playfully. “good boy.”

he tenses as you’re on his lap, breathing stopping and he pauses from those two last words. a gasp makes its way out of his lips before he moans.

“don’t . . let this get to your head. ‘m still gojo s- satoru,” and he squeezes your right ass cheek, yet this time. his grip’s much softer and more . . . tender.

with his head thrown back, he feels your grinding intensify. “but— say it again, sweetheart. call me that one more time.”

you press a kiss against his cheek. “good boy.”

“your .. good boy,” he pants, a growing flush on his face and he’s not only irritated but heavily turned on.

it appears that he discovered a new kink. praise.

“i’ll .. i’ll be your good boy, just for t’night, pretty girl. now finish fuckin’ me. please.”

[laughing-taffy]

HI! IVE BEEN WORKING ON THIS FOR A HOT MINUTE BUT IM WORKING ON A AU!! Here's my first three designs (aka main cast ofc) It's called Serial Killer au for now I dont rrlly have a real name for it

close ups + info of the three below!!

GABRIEL He's a detective in this au!! The station he works at is run by mostly angels He came into a small town for multiple cases of missing persons!! This au is sort of a Sherlock Holmes situation so it's mostly based in 1900s-1920s :]]

V2 Was originally mistaken for the killer, but his charges were dropped and ended up joining Gabriel to look for the killer (for revenge of course) They used to steal (many things) for money since they're basically a street rat. He dumpster dives too lol

V1 The main cause of all those missing husks(which will eventually go to machines). They were originally working at a hospital and got addicted to fresh blood instead of the pre bagged ones. When they got fired, they resorted to killing for fresh blood.

They like to drop off the body of the victim exactly where they kidnapped them at, and also keep them alive for as long as possible for a blood source. V2 used to work at the hospital with them but they stopped speaking to each other after V2 confronted them about their blood addiction. V2 was only there to steal medicine and other hospital supplies but blood never. I'll probably draw more and talk more about this au, dropping more character designs later too!!

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

hello! sorry to bother you but i am currently working on character designs for my next d&d campaign. i am creating a winged elf inspired by avariels, and he will have some form of physical disability which causes them to be unable to fly. however, i am not very educated about physical disabilities, so do you know any which might affect limbs such as wings and any ways i could portray life with them and accommodations for them in a respectful way? any tips are appreciated. thank you :)))

Wing disabilities are a bit harder to research than regular human limb disabilities, but you might be amused to learn that the very first thing i found upon a quick search for bird wing deformities was something called "angel wing", found in many different bird species. I've linked the article I found. It develops over time and can be corrected, but obviously when it happens in wild birds they have no means to fix it on their own and it becomes permanent.

Angel wing is a deformation of the wrist area, making it droop and then turn outwards. Once it's permanent, the crooked shape of the wing makes flight impossible. If a winged humanoid had this problem, they would need to worry about things like how far the crooked wing sticks out, maybe bracing it to alleviate chronic pain. I'm sure something like that would cause pain, even if it wasn't mentioned in the article. It may be helpful to clip the feathers on that part of the wing, so they're not in the way. Finding a comfortable sleep position may also be a bit tricky.

Other possible wing disabilities which I have not researched at all but sound like plausible congenital issues for people with wings:

- underdeveloped wings. They never get big enough for flight, maybe the feathers never grow in properly, possibly they're also shaped wrong for flight. Could come with chronic pain, weak muscles/atrophy, etc.

- missing wing. Somehow just didn't develop a wing, or developed a nub where the wing should be. Could also be missing just the "hand" part of the wing.

- general feather growth problems. Weak feathers, feathers that come in short, chronic molting that causes a lot of unhelpful bald patches, etc.

- chronic joint pain. Wings appear to be normal, but the joints hurt a lot and movement is difficult.

You can also go the route of disability by injury, having a wing broken or amputated or otherwise harmed in a way that is difficult or impossible to recover from.

Overall, the accommodations needed could include pain relief, a brace to keep the wing in a comfortable folded position, feather clipping, massages, etc. Mobitiy aids to let this character fly without the use of their wings is easy to handle in fantasy because you could give him an enchanted flying device of some sort. Magical prosthetic wing might work, but that depends on the disability you're working with and also wing prosthetics are pretty tricky. It would not be as functional as a real wing. If the wings are fully grown and intact, but the problem is something like joint pain, then a flight brace to steady the wings could be useful. They'd only be able to fly for short bursts though, probably. But it would be akin to giving someone leg braces so they can walk, while also having access to crutches or a wheelchair. You can work with your dm on figuring out what's allowed in the campaign setting.

As for being respectful in how you portray the character, I think the most important thing is to let them be a full person. The disability is obviously a major part of their life, but they ought to have more personality than that. Hobbies, interests, attitude.

They're also allowed to be sad about the disability, but this should not be their main defining trait. I think it is pretty normal to be sad that you have a physical difference preventing you from doing something other people can easily do. The problem in fictional characters who are sad about their disabilities is that it often becomes Their Entire Thing and then the character arc is either "so I became evil about it" or "and then they died" or "but there was a magical perfect fix!" all of which obviously don't respect the reality of being disabled. But making them totally happy go lucky about it also doesn't work. So you just need the middle area there, as that's the most realistic one. How does it feel to have a permanent disability? Well, it ends up feeling pretty normal when you're used to it. Sometimes it sucks a lot. Sometimes you hardly pay attention to it. Focus on making your character emotionally varied and give them an interesting personality that makes their interactions with other characters more fun.

Roleplay games are great for that, because you'll have to mesh with the group and really flesh out your character relationships as you go.

Anyway I hope that was all helpful! No illustrations to show, because I'm sleepy today. But good luck with your character! And maybe go check out @cripplecharacters for extra advice on generalized disability rep if you haven't already!

[fl00mie]

you know underverse/xtale is criminally underrated when its most popular video has no +20mil views and the rest of 'em don't exceed 10mil

considering how MASSIVE undertale au community is this is straight up unacceptable??

let's remember only THREE PEOPLE work on this series: Jael Peñaloza as the animator/writer, NyxTheShield as the musician and Strelok as the sound designer (although searching up a bit the first result that pops up is a reddit post pointing out they don't appear on credits in the last uvs episode, i just hope they're ok), they truly need more recognition and support

yeah everyone says good thing about this show but they're mainly superficial stuff, as statements from a first glance and that's fine, they know how to identify it as a well-written, structured and animated work despite having seen it only once, but i don't think that's enough

these people work hard to get the chapters out in the shortest time possible and it's impressive; every bit of detail is a delight and a hug to the soul for undertale fans, xtale in itself is an au that knew how to use every resource of the original game very ingeniously (i will probably talk about this in another post); the songs know how to capture the essence of the characters perfectly and add a lot of life to the scenes, it is truly incredible how immersive it is thanks to the ost; and the sound effects just make everything feel surprisingly real

the quality of this series is indescribable and it seems unfair to me that it doesn't get the support it really deserves like other works that achieved much more for some reason

please go support these community folks! they make a lot of effort to offer us quality content without disappointing, and although it's true their names resonate in everyone's heads, they deserve much more support of any kind

[osakanone]

"How realistic are mecha, really?": They aren't, but not for the reason you're thinking of or the one adjacent to it. Trust me.

Crossposted from reddit, since people seemed to like it. Like in the thread, I am very happy to answer questions about any esoteric weirdness.

Hold my beer. Again

They're not becoming a possibility. Yes. I know. This sucks. But stick around. Its not for the reasons you think. Well it is, but it also isn't. You'll see.

The robot needs the technology more than the technology needs a robot.

the technologies which the robot needs will improve and alter the doctrine of every other platform

This creates a doctrinal lock-in where the potential functional space for them to exist is unmet -- that they are so far ahead, that nothing new can emerge that isn't just other platforms becoming more generalized (eg, a post-stall recovery aircraft, or a helicopter with high impact landing-gear and a rigid rotor/jet engine design to act as a surface-fighter -- a tank which walks or manoeuvres like a robot is just flat out of the question: Tanks are made to be simple-as-fuck boxes which tank hits, and shoot and acquire asap and rumours of their deaths as a doctrinal weapon are exaggerated by recent events where obsolete weapons which aren't maintained properly who's crews aren't adequately trained were fighting very clever civilians with drones)

What you consider "realistic" (5th/6th) is just as if not more unrealistic than other gens purely because of their smaller size and very bizarre relationship with the environment -- they're just both too big, and too small to make sense, sitting in a size niche which is just very weird

If such a vehicle does exist, its going to be defined by its functions rather than a humanoid appearance

we know this because specialized platforms tend to beat specialized platforms historically until specialized platforms mature and become generalized

thus, the closest you're probably going to get is some weird variation of DARPA's Ground X Vehicle Project meeting with Gravity Industry' style mobility in limited cases, hybridized with smaller robots and wingsuits, which mix manoeuvring operation styles, with some rocker-boogie mechanism elements for terrain handling: It won't be humanoid, whatever it is.

This is assuming you can magically solve the square-cube law of volume-mass which is partially negatable with certain custom topologies exceeding graphene but actually manufacturing them would be miserable work probably not even be something you can make without microgravity

Energy flat out isn't solvable with what we know about right now. Nothing with that energy density can exist that isn't going to simultaneously make for an incredible fragile, dangerous and problematic source of power given the forces involved. Cooling is also a horrifyingly unsolvable problem on this scale, as is radiation management: You can't just dump molten tungsten in emergency cooling mode - you'll not only proceed to alert everybody who has even the vaguest IRST capacity to your position, but you'll also probably set fire to the environment and cook off your own ammunition. *

Motors aren't well suited to the tasks of such bodies (its like trying to make a slingshot out of dental floss), and we don't have an effective way to turn electricity into a form of motion which corresponds with the shock absorbing and motion control qualities which are actually desirable yet

Even if we did, the actual means of ensuring it doesn't fragment every time it moves don't exist. Every time an A10C fires its main gun, the fuel lines micro-fracture and have to be replaced after it lands. Metal, when you subject it to high physical forces ends up feeling and behaving closer to how you would think of glass. You'd need a material capable of repairing itself too, atop the quasicrystalline property which again, just isn't doable, let alone simultaneously.

So in terms of our mindset going into this?

Its... Probably not happening barring a very, VERY extreme change to how we understand physics to function, or some really kick ass (and actually entirely possible) changes in how engineering achieves outcomes (which could happen if the greatest threat to the mecha didn't exist)

Combat is moving towards information dominance. 

That's drone swarms, and role modularized long range travel, and the idea of fighter beyond-visual-range combat extending out to infared search and track systems which are networked to one another, which we're already seeing in singleton weapons and their mounting strategies even on the personal scale, which DARPA is currently investigating which everybody wants to mate with the gravity industries gear for boarding ops so the most likely avenue is to scale up from people, rather than scale down from vehicles as the development pathway -- but there's probably going to be multiple pathways with competing niches once the technology becomes cheap enough.

Costing

Ultimately its down to "how much money do I have to spend to defeat something more expensive than myself?" -- because our current structure of war is defined by cost, and by making the other guys surrender by using economic, and military violence (private, and publicly funded) instead of convincing them that we (NATO members, etc) have good opinions purely because of the natural benefits of "doing as we say" (which we see with basically any conflict in the last 70 years, which are usually feigned as ideological but pretty much always about disrupting market competition, dominating markets, or controlling a pressure position in another country to achieve those two things).

This isn't because they're particularly excellent weapons, but because they're cheap relative to the strength they offer, and how we define cheap is very different to how we defined cheap 100 years ago -- both in good, and terrible ways (such is the way of history).

Mecha are kinda the ultimate boondoggle. They are very very expensive, and just don't make sense.

They're cool as hell, yes.

But they don't make sense.

DISCLAIMER: If you're prone to depression, are dealing with a lot right now, or don't want your day ruining, you should stop reading NOW. What comes next is a psychosocial hazard and could be very bad for your mental health. LAST CHANCE . . .

The "real" reasons

If conflict some how became a meritocracy of leading by excellence rather than intimidation, and about human outcomes instead of cost outcomes, then things could change, but we don't live in that world.

Remember, violence exists to end human conflict (not to be confused with military conflict, which violence is the primary instrument of): Human conflict is when two parties oppose one another and communicate about what their goals and intentions are. Violence happens when communication stops. Communication stops, because parties cannot come to terms, or because nobody wants to be reasonable because the inherent request is unreasonable to the interests of the other party.

I'd love to say physics is the greatest threat, or maybe our concept of conflict but its not: * Its economics.

The concept of private-equity (not to be confused with venture-capital investment) is kiiiind of the dominant economic system on the face of the planet which dictates the interest of every nuclear power's actions against every non-nuclear power) is functionally dissolved, and investment models as we know them magically become better regulated OR a better economic system comes along which totally undermines private equity.

Its an economic finger-trap where most of the money that would be reinvested into people and technologies to push the world forward ends up getting swallowed up.

It also has private armies) and simulates the economy and political events in order to control them for maximum profitability. Yeah.)

We already live in Armored Core, folks.

And that economic system knows that if it gave free agents like ravens any kind of military power, it would functionally undermine itself, which is why it will never happen.

Private equity benefits from not having technology change, because its primary goal is wealth extraction. It leads to the collapse of every business you've ever seen go under, its why products undergo enshittification, which is coming for everything.

Its why the housing crisis happened, why the banking collapse happened, and its why there's an incentive to continue industrializing diseases like insulin instead of curing them.

tl;dr:

The one thing AC gets super wrong is you can either have the depressing relatable low-saturation late-stage hyper-capitalist dystopia where life is cheap on planet earth and everything terrible about South Korea times a thousand covers the whole world, and you need to have your own organs brought from you and leased back to you to lock you in to a lifetime of debt the same way everything else works...

OR

you can have the robot;

You can't have both.

e: I'd pick the robot any day

--

Apologies for any inaccuracies, I haven't edited this and I threw the original together in the space of around 40 minutes. Questions very welcome: I enjoy giving long detailed and substantiated answers.

If you enjoyed this, please consider reading my other work on the theoretical design factors of mecha, their control systems, and my fictional writing in mechposting.

[bugsinshoes]

OKAYOKAYOKAYOAY SOOOOO

i CANNOT stop thinking about musical falls. GENUINELY. it rotted my brain. SO! i've spent a bit of time doodling and coming up with ideas for how BILL would be presented on stage.

firstly, we have 2-D Bill/Pre-Weirdmageddon Bill. the idea i had for this form is that we'd use a spotlight tinted with a yellow gel and on top of that there'd be a gobo (stencil) of Bill's triangular form.

(examples of how that'd look onstage)

pros- spotlights can effortlessly move around stage without physically interfering with actors, also it mirrors how in the show, he's limited to the mindscape and how he doesn't have a physical form yadda yadda yadda (you get my idea)

cons- not much movement/expression. also kind of a disembodied voice? Bill is very expressive so it'd be hard to showcase something like that on a cut out stencil of him.

ANOTHER IDEA (i just had now as i'm writing this): Bill projection !!

so, it'd be a projected image of Bill which would be able to be animated so THAT solves the issue of the previous idea. plus i'm sure there'd be a way to move the projection around the stage if needed.

uhhh anyways !! back to my original ideas !!!!

obviously everything i've just mentioned is for 2-D Bill, but HERE is where it gets exciting. when Bill gains his physical form during Weirdmageddon.

so, when Bill gains a physical form, i had 3 ideas:

IDEA 1- Lin Manuel Miranda as Bill.

now, in my previous post about musical falls, i was kind of /j ing the idea, but i think it'd be genuinely hilarious. imagine this, duing the whole musical, bill is this 2-dimensional projection, kinda eerie. makes you think "how is he gonna look once he gains a physical body?" then BOOM its Lin Manuel Miranda. obviously his costume would be a waistcoat and jacket combo (something similar to how i drew him in my past post) but yeah. that's really the only reason. it'd be funny. idk.

IDEA 2- Puppet Bill.

this Bill would be more canon-accurate, still in his triangle form, except he'd be puppeted by someone. now, this comes with the same problem as gobo-bill. LACK OF EXPRESSION. he's stuck to one emotion/"facial" expression. (also i have no idea how puppets work. if anyone with more knowledge than me wants to add on/constructively criticise, you're welcome to!) i didn't really expand/think too much about this idea either soooo.....

IDEA 3 (my favourite)-

drag. bill.

i really like this idea. now, i'm no costume designer, nor do i do drag (so apologies if i've gotten anything wrong) but i think this would be something really cool to see on stage. the shape language of the costume, alongside a gorgeous makeup look, AS WELL as it being a real person acting, really feels like a good direction to go in, as it would allow full movement, gestures, and expressions !! (hooray!!) also i really need to see an awesome Bill-inspired drag look onstage. it'd be awesome.

ANYWAYS THAT'S IT !! THOSE ARE MY IDEAS !!!

this is all for fun as i KNOW this won't ever become an IRL stage production (probably) but a guy can dream. i just had so much fun coming up with ideas for the heck of it sooo !!!

another MASSIVE thanks to @fordtato for making that video about musical falls. i think i'm obsessed.

AAAA THAT'S ALL !!!! :D

[vodika-vibes]

HI vodika! Can I ask an imperial (or cx) Tech or Wrecker + soulmate au 👉👈

Surface Pressure

Summary: You know who your soulmate is. It’s obvious, as you both have the same symbol on your left hand. The problem is Tech is a clone and pretends you don’t exist.

Pairing: TBB TEch (Imperial) x F!Reader

Word Count: 2220

Warnings: None

Prompt: Soulmate AU - soulmates have identical marks somewhere on their body

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Hihi! Thank you for your request! I hope you like it!

You smother your yawn with great difficulty as you pick up your datapad and squint at the information on the screen, you lay your datapad down and proceed to transfer the information from the datapad to the computer.

It’s amazing just how much paperwork the Empire generates.

It has to be copied into the proper system, labeled correctly, encrypted and then sent to Coruscant.

If it wasn’t such a well-paying job, you’d have quit ages ago. But no, you have to support your parents. And older siblings.

Ungrateful leeches.

This time, you don’t bother to smother your yawn as you press the sleeve of your uniform against your mouth to cover your yawn. Your job is well-paying, but it’s also very dull. You probably go through enough caf to keep the companies in business.

You lock your computer and cross your office to your caf machine, intent on making another cup to help you stay awake. While your caf is brewing, you lean against the desk and absently trace your soul mark.

It’s pretty, your soul mark.

It’s pale orange and has swooping shapes that almost make it look like a flower. As a child, you spent hours tracing the design with markers or clumsy fingers. And you would daydream about your soulmate.

As you grew older, those daydreams changed into full-blown fantasies. You dreamed up whole adventures with you and your soulmate, imagined the planets you would visit, and the discoveries you’d make together.

Reality, as it happens, is much more disappointing.

Oh, you know who your soulmate is. You see him every day.

But he likes to pretend that you don’t exist.

Tech, or CT-9902 as you are expected to call him, is a clone. He’s so smart, and so important to the Empire, that he single-handedly runs the Technical Department on the base.

He hides his soul mark.

But you managed to catch a glimpse of it when you started working here, so you know your marks are identical. And you know that he knows it too.

His gaze lingers on you, sometimes. Well, on your hand at least.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s disappointed. It’s not like you have a very technical job, and he’s very smart. Not to mention, there are plenty of prettier people—

Your caf machine beeps, pulling you from your thoughts, and you focus your attention on the machine that’s pouring caf into your mug. 

A small sigh falls from your lips and you tiredly rub your eyes. You must be more exhausted than you thought if your thoughts are spiraling so badly. You pull your mug out of the machine and add some sugar and some creamer, taking a sip before you return to your desk.

You sink into your comfortable chair, taking a moment to set your mug on a coaster before you unlock your computer and start typing again.

You manage to type three lines when the entire room goes dark, including the computer.

You pull your flashlight out of your desk and turn it on, using it to help you get to your office door. Like everything else in the base, the door is electric, luckily there’s a safety on the door, allowing it to be pulled open with a handle in the event of a fire or power outage.

So you pull open the door and peek out into the hallway, and you’re not the only one. Down the hall, all of the administrative employees are sticking their heads into the hallway, trying to get answers.

“Everything is fine,” The base Commander calls as he jogs down the hall, followed but several soldiers, “Lightning struck the transformer, but the backup generators will be up and running in a few minutes. There is no need to be alarmed.”

Just as he jogs passed your office the lights flicker and come back on, along with the relieving sound of the climate control kicking back on.

“Everyone, please go back to work.�� The base Commander calls, “If you have any technical issues, please put a ticket in for Tech Support, do not try and repair it yourself.”

You smother your slightly amused laugh and vanish back into your office as you hear your neighbor try to argue with the base commander. That comment was absolutely pointed at your neighbor, who once tried to jerry-rig a supercomputer by stealing all of the administrative computers…and managed to burn down three offices.

He only still has his job because he’s the nephew of the base Commander.

You hit the power button on your computer as you drop into your seat, but nothing happens. You frown and hold the power button for a couple of seconds, but still, nothing happens.

“Great.” You grab a datapad, open the Tech Support chat window, open a ticket, and send your request. Then you drop your datapad back on your desk and pick up your caf to take a sip.

You expect to wait a while, a least a couple of hours, so you’re surprised when there’s a knock on your door almost half an hour later. You’re even more surprised when the door slides open and Tech walks into your office.

You have to bite your tongue to keep from saying his name, instead you just stand and greet him with a small smile. “I wasn’t expecting you so soon.”

“Your ticket said that your computer stopped working after the power outage?” Tech asks, his gaze lingering on the orange mark on your hand.

“That’s right.” You move away from your desk to allow him access.

Tech brushes against you to get to your desk, and you both freeze. His gaze snaps to your face, and you have to tightly fold your arms over your stomach to keep from doing something foolish.

Like touching him.

He clears his throat, “Well. Most likely the blown transformer is the cause.” Tech says as he ducks under your desk, “You should not need a new computer, though.”

“You think so?”

He pulls himself out from under your desk and looks up at you, “All of the computers are plugged into surge protectors for this very reason.”

“Oh, that makes sense.”

He ducks back under the desk. You hear a curse, and Tech pulls back and rips his gloves off, tossing them over your keyboard, before he vanishes back under the desk.

There’s the sound of cords moving, and then he pulls back out from under your desk, your surge protector in his hands. “It is a good thing that you were using this.” He says as he stands and adjusts the long device so you’re able to see the top, there are scorch marks near some of the outlets.

You open your mouth to say something, but your office door slides open, interrupting you. 

“Commander?” You ask, “Everything alright?”

“I heard that you had some tech issues,” He says, his gaze darting between you and Tech, and then to the scorched surge protector, “Did a fire start?”

“No. We need to add more protections though.” Tech notes, as he quickly tugs his gloves back over his hands. He’s not paying attention to the Commander…but you are.

You see the way that his gaze lands on Tech’s soul mark, the soul mark that’s identical to your own. And you see the way his eyes light up.

You’re heart sinks into your stomach. 

You’re not stupid. You know that Imperial Officers are monsters on a good day, and you know that they’re not above using soul mates to force someone into obedience.

You just had a target placed on your back.

You can’t help but wonder if Tech would even care if you vanished.

“I will go and get you a new surge protector,” Tech says to you, “that should fix the computer issue.”

“Thank you,” You reply, your voice dry. You want to beg him to not leave you with the Commander, but the words stick in your throat.

And then it’s too late.

Tech is gone, the door is shut, and the Commander turns his gaze on you.

There’s silence for a moment, then the Commander takes a step towards you and picks up a small tooka figurine sitting on your desk, “I would prefer it if you didn’t make this difficult.” He says quietly.

“Yes.” You whisper, “I understand.”

“Follow me.”

Silently you follow him through the base. And then down, under the base. To a secret prison, located deep beneath the base. You’re handed off to a group of guards, clad in a stark white prison uniform, and then escorted to a small cell. 

The other cells are filled with men and women, of all races. And the guard, gleefully, informs you that everyone in the secret prison is the soul mate of a clone.

As you step into your cell, the door slams shut with a finality that makes you want to cry.

Game over.

The Empire wins.

Tech tries to be a good soldier.

He obeys his orders, he takes the verbal abuse that the natborns lay on his. He pretends that it doesn’t bother him that he’s been separated from his brothers.

He’s a good soldier.

But, right now, he doesn’t want to be a good soldier.

It has been three months, 2 weeks, and 4 days since his soul mate vanished.

Vanished, of course, is a colloquialism for the fact that she has been thrown in a cell somewhere for the crime of having a clone soul mate.

Tech can’t remember the last time he was so angry. Maybe when he was a cadet.

The base Commander is using her to force Tech into compliance. And every time he doesn’t do something that the Commander wants him to do, Tech gets another picture of his badly beaten soul mate.

It’s enough to make him want to comply.

It’s also enough to push him into homicide.

Tech glances around the room, just to make sure that no one is watching him, and then focuses his attention back on the computer in front of him. Echo might be the slicing master, but Tech isn’t so bad himself.

He scans the information on the computer, searching for the information he needs.

Then he finds it.

A picture of his soul mate, her prisoner ID number, the cell number she’s been confined in…and the location of the prison.

The moment he realizes that she’s been under his feet this whole time, Tech feels a surge of rage so intense that he has to shut down the computer and walk away for a moment.

It won’t do for him to act out of anger.

All that will do is put her in harm's way.

He stamps out his rage with difficulty and starts back to his office, a plan forming as he walks. 

Instead of going to his office, he turns and heads towards the armory. The natborns in charge think that he’s a regular clone.

They’re wrong.

He’s still a Commando.

Once in the armory Tech dons his armor and grabs his weapons as well as some explosives. And then he heads to the hidden door that leads to the hidden prison. 

One quiet explosion later, Tech uses the emergency stairs to get to the bottommost level, where he stops near the security room. A quick scan of the room tells him that he can open all of the cell doors from in here, as well as send an alert to the clone soul mates that their other halves have been freed.

All he has to do is remove the guards.

Easy.

7 blaster shots later, Tech steps into the security room and opens all of the cell doors. Then he sends a message to his reg brothers.

His good deed done for the day, Tech leaves the security room and weaves through the crowd of people until he reaches her cell.

She’s cautiously peeking out the open door as if expecting it to be a trap. One of her eyes is swollen, and her lip is split. Tech says her name and her eyes snap to his face.

“...Tech?” Her voice is soft, hesitant.

“I am sorry that it took me so long to find you,” Tech apologizes. “Will you come with me?”

“You came? For me?” She sounds surprised.

“Did you think I would not?”

“I didn’t think you cared.” She admits.

Tech steps closer to her and lightly brushes a thumb across her cheek, “I was trying to protect you, I am sorry if you thought that I did not care.”

She shakes her head and flings her arms around his neck. Hesitantly, afraid to hurt her any more than she’s already been hurt, Tech wraps his arms around her. “Will you come with me?” He repeats.

She nods mutely and then pulls back, “The Empire will kill us.”

“They have to catch us first.” Tech lightly kisses her forehead, “Come on, it is time to go.”

She nods one more time and takes his hand, “What about them?”

“Oh, I made sure to let their soulmates know where they are, and that they are free. You do not have to worry about them.”

As if proving his point, there’s an explosion from above them.

“Time for us to go. Come on, mesh’la.”

[unstableforensicscientist]

Okay these are the head cannons I have so far, and yes I will always add more 🙏🏻🙏🏻

Herbert West headcanonnons:

a gay or unlabeled trans man

also aroace

AuDHD

Hates loud noises or bright lights specifically

Clenches his jaw or grates his teeth when he sleeps

Rarely ever remembers to shower but also needs everything around him to be clean

Despises coffee but if he had to drink it, he would either drink it purely black and probably like the bottle of the coffee pot or so much sugar it’s insane

He secretly has a sweet tooth (PLS HEAR ME OUT ON THIS)

Literally only wears suits and will sometimes sleep in them

Doesn’t remember to take care of himself like ever

he loves compression socks (once again just hear me out)

He wears sock garters

smells like either mold/corpses or hand sanitizer, no in between.

he has two different handwriting, one that is like a mix of cursive and his normal in pen, and really shitty writing in pencil.

Rarely would ever care for music but he would occasionally go with classical

LOVES the rain/thunderstorms

Wanted to study archeology when he was younger (I’m projecting)

will go through math equations when he gets bored or stressed

Definitely stims, but specifically hand taps, leg taps, facial movements, and scrunching his hands or opening and closing his hands into a fist shape, or swaying/pacing.

Either can’t sit still for hours or will be so silent/still you won’t notice he’s there.

Has a collection of encyclopedias that are really fucking old.

Will read fiction on very, and I mean VERY rare occasions. They will most likely be science fiction too.

Gruber was 100% a father figure for him.

Genuinely could give less of a fuck about your opinion on him unless you say something about his work.

did his own top surgery with perfect performance and had guidance from Gruber

Doesn’t drink much besides water or just well nothing, but will have some tea on occasion.

I also like the idea of him liking 7 up from the cut scene because it’s silly

used to wear socks with fun yet sophisticated designs on them in high school.

He definitely dressed like your average high school nerd when he was younger, suspenders and all.

Used to have glasses that would make his eyes look 10x bigger

His vision is absolute shit without his glasses, basically a male Velma.

also I think it’s silly to say he did ballet when he was younger (reference to the bride commentary)

used to have his hair a bit more shoulder length in high school

literally sleeps with one single pillow and a sheet. Also his bed feels like a rock when you lay on it. (He never fucking sleeps)

actually really enjoys nature and not just in the experimental environment way, but you would have to water board that info out of him.

Genuinely wants some kind of reptile as a pet.

he has so many random facts on the most niche things you could possibly not want know/hear about.

Genuinely likes the color green, but more of a forest green and not bright ass neon.

has gone camping ONCE.

has a specific routine for everything and will breakdown if it doesn’t go accordingly

never ever shows his meltdowns to anyone but himself

Has gone to the psych ward during his time in Switzerland after Grubers death

Doesn’t trust psychiatrists

this one I think is just funny to me but he has tried to read fiction with magic and shit and HATES IT. Read love craft and he had called that man out for his writing and bigotry so many times to Gruber and probably Dan.

Has the most manic laugh/giggle you’ve ever heard

smiles with his teeth if he’s being an asshole, almost like the Cheshire Cat, smiles with his mouth closed in a tight line when he’s sarcastic or annoyed, only has smiled genuinely like twice.

Hates showing emotions, even negative ones. He prefers to seem entirely neutral unless provoked

never looks himself in the mirror

hates going to the barber shop and prefers to cut his own hair

Literally cannot legally drive

Speed walks, he cannot walk at a normal pace ever.

Enjoys puns and jokes but only if he’s the one making them.

Death glares that could kill a man if it were possible.

thinks he’s very clever but sometimes he really is just stupid 🙁

thinks logically but not rationally

His morals are so fucking grey, like he has his lines he won’t ever cross but besides that, he does not give a fuck at all

He sits with his legs crossed or he sits like a bird perched on a branch, no in between

He either really loves or really hates small spaces

loves curling his body into himself or have his chested puffed out really proudly once again, no in between

He has SERIOUS back problems, and has kinda bad posture

He paces so much that it freaks Dan out sometimes

Talks to himself a LOT

If he lets himself relax, he often does crossword puzzles or just reads medical textbooks and highlights the misinformation in them

does actually care for Dan, just has a really hard and shitty way of showing it

[nanaten]

more people should base mother characters’ character traits/design elements off their stats. its something ive been doing for a while now

I draw Ninten to be thinner than the rest of them as a result of his speed stat being significantly higher than the other two at level 99 (155!! insane!! more than double Lucas’s max speed!!) and I also imagine him to be that way having less guts than the other two protagonists— so he’s more susceptible to finding other routes to resolve/escape conflict, (4th D Slip you get it). He’s also (pardon my language,) a lucky, sarcastic fucker, so he’ll take advantage of that during combat too. (Wisdom/Luck: 155). I also think that Ninten, lacking in vitality, also aids this general idea that Ninten isn’t noticeably strong— though i also think maybe his vitality would be noticeably higher without the asthma, LOL.

This is why i also consider Ninten to be more witty and bastardy. Is he all that strong (from the outside)? No. Can he use offensive PSI? No. But luck is on his side, he’s smart, and he can pack a real damn punch if need be.

I also think, with his wit, he’d weaponise his smaller stature, this is to say he’d weaponise his (what is viewed as,) physical incompetence. you get it. he’s just a little boyyyy he’s a little birthday boy look at him he can’t hurt you he’s like 2 grams of protein Oh Shit He Just Knocked You Out Because You Were Unassuming And Thought He Couldn’t. Welp!

Ness’s I consider less simply based on the fact he specifically gets a huge boost (y’know the whole magicant boost thing,) nearing the end of the game, but I still think it’s important. For example him having the least defence of the three (whilst having the most guts & IQ) could take to mean that he’s overtly confident and relies far more on his own strengths and immediate in-the-moment smarts. I also take this to mean he’s got alot more muscle mass, not valuing speed as much as raw strength— His moves are calculated, but not premeditated, he figures out the best course of attack and goes for it immediately. I also think it’s representative of a more laid back, relaxed personality— he’s not too uppity, he’s not all that scared of much, he’s confident and reliable and faithful in his skills.

Lucas’s stats may initially seem weaker than the rest but I moreso take this to mean he’s alot more calculated. Being the slowest with a speed of 60, I imagine he puts an immense amount of thought into each and every move he makes— he cares less about how much he can do and cares far more about precision, each hit deliberate with intention. And i think this is cooperated well with his defence stat being the second highest (I also take this to mean Lucas is pretty tanky, as opposed to Ninten, who I think has high defence more from mental planning and probably PSI— cough cough power shield,) only 5 points away from Ninten’s— it all takes to mean he is safe and deliberate, calculated and threatening. I also think the high fight/guts stat infers that Lucas isn’t really one for finding alternative routes out of combat, he is not afraid to fight and is down to fuck your shit up if it comes down to it. He is also a notorious lucky fucker, like Ninten, but with it being slightly lower I imagine his luck would moreso aid him, as opposed to Ninten who would regularly bank on that luck.

Lucas’s stats don’t add too much to how I characterize him but I think they do further aid the general idea of Lucas being quite stoic and unmoving, quiet and observant.

These stats are scaled because each mother games’ stats work differently! this is just a general idea and for fun lol

[royal-songbird]

youknow what i'll share these here too. trying to figure out a loop design for my fic two sides of the same coin while i work on chapter 4 :D !!

it is. a bit of a struggle to get them Loop features while still looking like siffrin . but i thinkk ive done a fairly good job? idk i'll probably mess around with it more later

[scopophobia-polaris]

Honestly I have a theory that sheik was ORIGINALLY early in development supposed to be their own character but became Zelda’s alter ego later. Regardless their body types and features are so different it’s so fucking funny seeing Nintendo try to gaslight us and say « NUH HUH SHEIK IS LITERALLY JUST ZELDA IN DIFFERENT CLOTHES » like come on she definitely gave herself a dick be real. Zelda is SO the non binary person who says « yeah I dream about changing genders and I wish I wasn’t always a girl but I’m not trans I’m just cis haha »

🫵👍 BWAHHAHAHA YEAH oh my god, there is a chance that could be the case because of this

Because this is Sheik

Like OBVIOUSLY so, he could of been made to ve a separate chracter originally yes! And i don't know if there are any alternate development notes or interviews that says otherwise, but...the more I look at this picture, I'm scared this was gonna be Tetra before Tetra if you catch my drift.

OoT and MM to a lesser extant probably have so many weird production stuff we just don't know about, if we had like the stuff we have today about botw's devlopment but for OoT I would be so excited, the little stuff we has interests me to no fucking end and I wanna see what the hell was going through their brains for half of it cuz one thing....Im just gonna word vomit out this theory.

Link's mom. There is a chance that her design in the manga was actually by Nintendo originally and not the akira himekawa. So, here me out, the German Club Nintendo comic, it's called Hyrule under fire, its supposed to be about the end of the civil war that happens before OoT, so, since Link's dad is so close to just looking like Link with cheek bones (designs that drive me up the way in a funny way for reasons that if you ever ask me I'm gonna throw up on a post) I think he was just made up for the comic.

Like....look at him, HOWEVER.

Link's mom has a consistent design between here and the offical manga

(Love his dad dying in the shadow like HDNSBDHSN)

bUT STILL WITH THE WIDOW'S PEAK AND EVERYTHING! SAME CLOTHES AND EARRINGS TOO.

The ONLY thing that's different, is that in the legendary edition of the manga her dress colors are different

BUT, THEYRE FLIPPED, ITS STILL BLUE AND PINK, and her earrings are still pink.

Both of these came out within 2 years of eachother, the German comic in 1998 when the game came out and the manga in 2000, so either Akira Himekawa saw the German comic from 1998 and decided to reference that design for their own work OR....Link's mom had an offical design that was SCRAPPED FROM THE GAME.

I wish I could ask them about it because they would be the most straightforward I bet, look if any of you ever want to @ them on twitter and ask where they got that design I would LOVE to know

[jazzy-art-time]

Paprika - Jarble AU

[ Paprika belongs to @skoodledoodledoo ] [ I had permission to Jarble Paprika / Skoodle sacrificed her to me for me to practice on ]

diagnosis and information below the cut

DIAGNOSIS RESULTS --

Paprika

Job: Boutique (either owns her own or works at one)

Rather lackadaisical at her job, Paprika does still do good work, or maybe it's just that intimidating stare that pressures people into purchasing?

A very stern woman, very to the point and short with her answers most of the time. She probably doesn't find you that interesting to begin with, so why waste her words on you? Good luck chipping through that stone.

She is very much a perfectionist despite how she doesnt want to admit it. "i dont care about my job or you or anything" but is still found being extremely meticulous about every little thing. How dare you not face all the coat hangers the same way. That shade of blue may be the same but it has more green undertones, idiot! How did you not notice that! Oh whatever hand it to me ILL do it and ILL do it RIGHT.

She lives well as she is able to live within the inner city, most would be rather satisfied with her life.

But deep down there is a insecurity to her life choices. Did she make the right choices? Is she actually happy? She stares out the windows of the boutique often, glancing at the travel advertisements that flicker on the large ad screens outside. Does she long for more? To travel? To go on adventures?… No.. That's not her.. It couldn't be her. So she sighs and continues to sort her fabrics.

DEFAULT WEAPON:

Brass Knuckles with fist spikes and a side knife.

Is conjured by snapping a specific claw on one of her hands. The nail used to conjure is usually painted a different color than the rest. Originally used to identify which nail but now is just for pure aesthetic and more of a power move to show off which one does it.

The entire set can be charged with electricity, causing a blunt force Stab/Shock/Punch combo. But this can only happen within a certain percentage of her power.

The side knife on the side can retract in and out depending on the scenario. Great for sudden right hooks on others.

Regularly a bright yellow color but during sunrise it will glow a faint red.

EXTRA DESIGN NOTES:

-> Her dress is supposed to resemble the cherish ball. I thought it would be a cute nod to her OG design. But also designed to have a more vampire red goth look? It looked more intimidating in my head. I think it would be neat if she had various dresses based on each pokeball.

-> BIG hair, like absolutely massive head of hair. I know Luxray is known for their mane anyways but like good god. The hair on this woman. She has to be rich to afford all that hair care.

-> She has the more Right Ring Circle sparkle effects on her body, that naturally fade when leaving that ring. In HER case, the sparkles appear near the tail tip and as extra freckles on her face. One primary one being on her cheek. However, her sparkles seem to fade quicker than most when leaving the limits... could be a sign of her desire to change? Or nothing at all.

[sparklecarehospital]

DA LORE QUESTIONS!! /pos

oh boy i heard lore mentioned a while back! time to run a mouth full of questions about the future of da lore page!!

(please don't get a headache while reading, so i recommend you read at the best time possible! (the time when you feel like it. take your time!!)) (i tried to make this as short as possible)

first, are there gonna be any new soggie refs? will you go more in depth about soggies, poggies, and slorgies? (such a random order i apologize)

second, new stuff (probably)!! will you put any lore about the insects/what they are called? (i'd really like to see if spinch has a version of fireflies!)

third, will there be any lore on how magic works and/or probably their downsides (ex. Weather can probably accidentally cause a storm)

finally, is there going to be more art (on the lore page) showing examples of the lore in question (if that hopefully makes sense? hopefully???)

been thinking of making a spinch (non-canon of course lol) inspired story, and the lore expansion would help really much!! thank you! have a great day or night!!

1. There will be new refs for every important Spinch worldbuilding character like the soggies, and there will even be refs for new characters related to Spinch lore that you guys don't know yet

2. Insects are just like regular Earth ones! They aren't different, except they aren't ever anthries (naturally, anyways.)

3. There will be more details about Spinch magic, yes, with more in depth explanation about how its learned

4. Yes, there will be more art, including stuff like drawings of all (currently designed) ferry types + all the different magic anthries etc

Additional notes: The lore page will not be "one page" with anchor links anymore, it'll be like a "separate site" with different sub pages for different things. There will also be a pre-moderated comment section for custom user-asked lore questions. There will also be stuff about aliens like aquanthries and anthrels and animons

Hope this helps!!! 💖💖💖

[wilcze-kudly]

The Avatar State as a panic attack

The Avatar state has always been a very interesting part of Avatar lore to me. Throughout B1, we don't exactly get a lot of information about it, but at the very beginning of B2 Roku finally shows up and gives us a tutorial (lil late buddy but thanks lol).

Roku: [Cuts to Roku.] The Avatar State is a defense mechanism, designed to empower you with the skills and knowledge of all the past Avatars.

I always wondered about the stress placed on the Avatar State being a defense mechanism, not a weapon, during this episode.I always enjoyed this distinction, because it would be SO easy to just call the Avatar State a weapon/a superpower pertaining to offence.

But no, it takes Aang a very long time to harness the Avatar State, and before he does, it comes out only in moments of huge distress.

Near death experiences are the most common reason for Aang to go into the Avatar state. It makes sense, really, being close to death is probably when you need a superpowered defence mechanism the most.

However, there are times when Aang isn't in immediate danger and still enters the Avatar state. The most notable moments are the three examples I pointed out in this post.

Now these three examples are very interesting, because while Aang is not in the direct line of harm, he still goes in to the Avatar state. But the Avatar state is supposed to be a defence mechanism, so what gives?

Well, the moments Aang goes into an the Avatar State, he is still in super high stress situations. I mean, realising everyone you love has been brutally slaughtered and you're the last of your kind is as high stress as it gets, isn't it?

This isn't exactly dissimilar to how our real life regular human bodies work as well.

When we are in danger, we go into fight or flight mode, our body is flooded with different chemicals, like adrenaline or cortisol. This is usually a good thing, our breathing and heartbeat quickening, our blood moves to our large muscles, in order to prepare for, well, fight or flight.

But sometimes, this response activates in situation where we're not actually in danger. This is a crucial part of panic attacks. Now, there are a lot of different reasons for panic attacks, but they can happen due to a huge amount of stress, after a death of a loved one and experiencing strong emotions. You can see how this relates back to Aang. Panic attacks can also go hand in hand with trauma, which Aang has an abundance of.

Now, it is important to note that panic attack doesn't always equal hyperventilating and rocking back and forth in a corner. I for one, become extremely irritable during one, and will even smack people if they come too close because shockingly I don't like people touching me when I'm in "I'm in Danger" mode.

We don't get a full explanation of what causes the Avatar State to trigger, but it wouldn't be a stretch to assume that if Aang's subconscious is fearing for its life, the Avatar State does trigger. So if Aang is having a panic attack, his body going through the same motions as if he were in danger, why wouldn't the Avatar state activate?

This isn't to say that the anger that is primarily associated with Aang entering the Avatar state out of emotion is cancelled out by this theory. Aang's anger and him having a panic attack can work in tandem, since we often see him become upset or startled by violence, along with going through extreme guilt due to it.

This would also explain why Korra doesn't shift into the Avatar state under heightened emotions. If she doesn't have panic attacks like Aang, she is more lucid in her Avatar state. That and her having more control over it in general.

Anyway, tune in next time for my incoherent ramblings. Thanks for listening lol. I need to go to sleep

I also see a lot of similarities between the Avatar State and dissociation and dissociative disorders like DID. But that's a converstion for another day.

[somewhereincairparavel]

Omg I need some platonic valgrace so bad rn (maybe some hurt/comfort?)

Also congrats on 400, I have a writing blog too lol

"Ditching work with Leo Valdez"

author's note: I'm actually super sorry if it's short for you! But enjoy anyways!

Jason stared miserably at the heaps of files and design folios in front of him. He was so fucking stressed out. So many shrines to design and construct, for so many minor gods and goddesses. He had to ensure that the shrines were all equally good looking, so that no minor gods feel inferior to the other. Shrines, let alone extravagant looking ones, could take YEARS to build. For all he knows, he could be in this project till he was 24.

These lingering thoughts troubled his mind. Jason's under eye bags were so visible, he could've sworn his hair turned a few shades lighter aswell due to stress. Realizing that he probably looked just as terrible as he felt, a few tears slid out of Jason's eyes. This feeling was starting to get so familiar these days. He was going through a terrible cycle of burn out.

sighing, Jason got up from his desk to grab his third cup of coffee, he headed out for a walk in the streets of New Rome, to go to his favorite cafe. He was a few steps close to the door, when he spotted a familiar mop of curly hair lingering behind him in the corner of his eye.

“Jason!” “I knew you'd be here man”

The voice of Leo Valdez had more of an effect on Jason's serotonin than any of Jason's coffees had.

Jason spun around immediately, and as if it was an instinct, bear hugged his best friend.

“Superman, i-i can't breathe” Leo sputtered out, laughing and squirming in Jason's strong grasp. Jason quickly pulled away. Leo raised his eyebrows, studying Jason's face in an “i-know-you-are-overworked” type of way.

Jason sighed. “Terrible burnout. I feel useless”Leo frowned, “why didn't you iris message any of us? Nico? Percy? Annabeth? ME? We care about you, man. Don't shut yourself out, please .Nico is worried sick about his bro.” Jason smiled.

“How are he and Will? I hope their relationship is still going strong” Leo grinned deviously. “They are super super gay and proud, don't worry.”

“As they should be.” Jason replied sternly like a mother that it made Leo giggle. “Anyways, the reason I'm actually here is, I WON TWO TICKETS TO THE THEME PARK!!” Leo smacked the tickets into Jason's face aggressively in excitement. “The one Piper said she always went to? Do you know how expensive those things are?? What did you sacrifice to the gods to get these?”

Jason's eyes sparkled. He had never been to theme parks before, and this theme park Leo had just won tickets to? It was not cheap. and the hopes of visiting one felt like a fever dream. It felt bizarre, the whole concept of carnivals, amusement parks and theme parks were non existent to the Romans.

“That's besides the point. All that matters is that there are TWO tickets. And I've invited YOU to go with me dude” Leo said. Jason's jaw dropped. “Wait? Seriously? You're taking me of all people to go with you? But why?”

“Dam bro you're so oblivious, it's cuz you're my best bud! Who else would I be taking? Besides, no offense, you look like you clearly need a stress free trip” Leo rolled his eyes. Jason cackled as Leo screamed through almost half the rides that he INSISTED he wasn't scared of. Jason had to reassure him that he isn't falling as long as he has his skydiving buddy with him.

“OKAY. Holy hephaestus. I am NEVER going on rides like that ever again dammit!” Leo leaned on Jason's shoulder for support. The longer jason replayed Leo's screams, the funnier it got.“Yup. I'm sure won't. Do you want ice cream? Because I'm paying, no arguments.” Jason stated firmly like a mother again. “For the love of god, could you stop with the mother voice? It makes me feel like I'm getting reprimanded “ Leo whined and Jason laughed.

“Okay so icecream or no?”

“How could I decline that offer, Superman?”

Without even realizing it, Jason forgot all about what he was upset about. That's the Leo Valdez effect for ya!

[mauswyx]

give thomas glasses

Sloan wore them so bad eyes could be genetic or is just something that happens overtime with age or circumstances

Him working in that dark basement is definitely putting a strain on his eyes so that’s not helping

And sewing in the dark! Oml yeah he needs ‘em

Would be in denial 100% it’s going to take a lot of convincing that it’ll improve his way of life and work (that’s what gets him)

Not leaving to go to an optometrist so having to scavenge through victims’ belongings until you find a pair that isn’t broken and the closest prescription (lvl: hard mode)

Doesn’t fuss over the design of the frame so that’s helpful

Is amazed at how much clearer the world is

extremely grateful that you went through all that trouble to help him

~•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•°•✞•°•✟•~

“Mornin’!” You called cheerfully rounding the kitchen corner “Did you- Tommy where are your glasses?”

The large man stopped his descent down the stairs and shuffled awkwardly in his place, embarrassed to have been caught. They had been lost or better flung off in the last round up. It's not like he hadn't tried to look for them! But searching without them. . .proved difficult.

Averting his eyes from your quizzical gaze, he lamely waved his hand around in a general motion with a gruff huff.

“They’re . .around?” You raised an eyebrow “Thomas Brown Hewitt did you lose the glasses I slaved to find?”

He would’ve paled at the sound of his full name being used had it not been for the upturned quirk in your lip. You were just teasing him. Thank god. His shoulders relaxed. Losing the glasses you personally searched for him was one thing. Losing them and having you mad at him was another. He could die somewhat at peace with the former.

Reassured that you did not hate him for his transgression, he gave a small nod

“Well. . .that’s on me,” you sighed making your way up the stairs “I knew I should’ve put one of those chains on it!”

You squeezed past him on the landing, grabbing his hand as you passed and pulling it with you—forcing him to follow back up the stairs. Thomas hung his head and obediently followed without complaint. No longer able to feel embarrassed with his new focus being your hand on his. Leading him past a handful of doors, you stopped in front of your own bedroom.

“Now, we’re not going to make this a habit.” you smiled playfully waving a mock-accusatory finger at him before pushing your way into the room.

Not make coming into your room a habit or not losing his glasses a habit?

He hoped you meant the latter.

Dropping his hand, to his dismay, you made your way to kneel next to the bookshelf that sat snuggly between your bed and adjoined bathroom. Glancing up and noticing he was still in the doorway, you raised your arm to give your bed a pat.

“Come on I don’t bite.”

Thomas hesitated but decided it was probably best to do as you say. He quietly shuffled across your room, watching as you moved objects out of the way attempting to reach something hidden. He tried to sit down as gently as he could but the bed still creaked angrily.

“Yeah she’s a bit noisy, right?” You huffed pulling yourself onto the bed next to him having seemingly found what you were looking for on the bottom shelf. In your lap sat a moderately sized jewelry box. He shot you a questioning glance.

“I didn’t want Jedidiah to come scavenge the frames.” you explained with a shy smile.

You flipped the lid and exposed the gutted interior of the box. Instead of compartments for rings or earrings and such sat a heap of a dozen or so glasses. Thomas leaned over slightly to examine more closely what you had done only to realize you two were sitting shoulder to shoulder, he quickly pulled back and tried to scoot away but the bed, being too small, only gave a small grace of an inch or two between you.

“I figured it might be a good idea to keep whatever intact pairs I could find,” you continued, not seeming to notice his retreat, “just in case something like this happened.”

Thomas stared blankly, not only were you keeping spares for his sake but you were protecting them...for him? You’d secretly done him an act of service that most likely would have gone unnoticed had it not been for this exact scenario. The thought of you keeping him in your thoughts while he wasn't around made his stomach churn and his face flush.

You let out a breathy laugh and picked out a pair, “Well let’s get to work, we don’t have all morning!”

Thomas remembered the previous time you had helped him find a relatively useful pair so the process was not unfamiliar at least. You’d hand him a pair to put on, he’d shake his head if it wasn’t any good, you’d hand him a different pair in response while moving the duds into a pile for Jedediah to make his crafts with, and so on and so forth. Though the process was tedious and repetitive, he could never get used to your hand gently brushing against his or the way you peered up to him eagerly waiting for his response. That was something he was remorseful for, without his glasses he couldn’t see your face as clearly.

“Well this is going exceptionally better than the first time.” you hummed recalling how he had slapped a pair out of your hands at your first attempt to put them on his face or how he accidentally snapped a pair’s temples having forgotten to be gentle with them.

Thomas smiled behind his mask in agreement. Moving to take the current pair off, he froze. You had placed your hand on his masked cheek and slowly turned him to face you so you could place a new pair on him yourself. You let your hand linger on his cheek as you gazed into his eyes. Thomas swore you were bearing your eyes into his very soul and branding his skin, through the mask, with your touch.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, the hand that didn’t hold his cheek in place absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair behind his ear and caused his breath to hitch. If you hadn’t noticed how red he was before, you certainly noticed his heavy breathing and beet red face now.

“Um how’s that?” you coughed out, quickly shoving your hands into your lap and looking everywhere but at him.

Snapping back to the task on hand, Thomas gave a small jump trying to discern whether or not the pair was working. And wait a minute. He could see clearly! Much more clearly than the last pair at that too!

Thomas hummed happily and nodded his head at you.

“Wait really!” You exclaimed, clasping your hands together “Wow what luck you look so handsome in this pair too!”

He let out a choked wheeze and quickly stood to avoid your beaming gaze. Thomas didn't care what anyone else said—you certainly knew how to go in for the kill.

“Ah wait! Let me look for a chain!”