#Output Exhale

[extraplugin]

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[bmpmp3]

IA 2.0 voisona test with a short version of drag on dragoon's ending B song tsukiru/exhausted :) now i can hear Lia's beautiful dulcet tones sing scary scary songs

[eugeniedanglars]

lord help me i'm about to become the patient every doctor hates and argue with my psychiatrist based on google

[raplascl]

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Our goal is to provide high-quality video, TV streams, music, software, documents or any other shared files for free! For the for loop, continue causes the conditional test.

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[nahasphone]

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[magmmorg]

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Then its on to the Rhythm Panel, where you’ll see how Waveform Shapes and or Step Sequencer Patterns are used to modulate parameters in the six Mod Effects available in the FX Engine.Īfter that, Eli explores the Flux control, which applies a secondary step-sequencer dedicated to generating fluctuations in the main modulation values, as well as a video on Mod effects. Next, Eli demonstrates Slices mode, in which you can match your sounds to the key of your music.

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You’ll learn which controls are shared, which are unique, and how to set and edit all 13 individual loops per loop bank! The next 2 videos explore Loops mode, both Bank Settings and Note Settings. Once you’re familiar with the signal flow, Eli then covers Notes mode and its 3 different source types including One-Shots, Pads, and Tape Loops. Then it's onto the Presets, which can contain one or two sound sources with independent Volume, Pan, Tune, Eq, ADSR, & Playback Direction Controls. Starting with an installation guide, Eli gets right into EXHALE’s signal flow, explaining how sounds are triggered in Notes, Loops, and Slice modes.

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In this video tutorial series studio expert Eli Krantzberg reveals all of its secrets as well as how to use it to breathe life into your productions. There's nothing out there quite like Output EXHALE, a virtual instrument with a unique vocal engine that's both powerful and modern.

[pigswithwings]

whatever. huge giant machine that holds you up to it. big old machine that is so warm because of its energy output, big old machine whose fans seem like lungs inhaling and exhaling over you. tall as fuck machine (whose metal plating seems less like casing and more like a building) holding you in its wires. a light that could blind you, dimming itself down to 20%. a low, deep humming.

[literaila]

midnight happenings (2)

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: you wake up and look for satoru

warnings: unspecified angst (of course), fluff, and fluff

last part | next part

*

year five.

satoru can feel you coming down the hall before you're there, your presence a lurking, tasteful thing. 

he's just laying in bed when he feels it--the creeping, the warning signals bouncing around his brain like any of it matters. so he pauses, listening, and waits. 

when you knock on his door--so softly it should be inaudible--he isn't surprised. 

he seldom is, with you. every one of your moves is calculated, and satoru likes to think of himself as an expert on the subject. he's been studying for many years and he always excelled at arithmetic. 

still, he leans up, holding himself up with an arm as he looks at you in the dark. 

heres the thing about sensing cursed energy--it's very helpful in a social situation, however few and far between they are for satoru. he can tell when the person checking him out at the store is upset about something, or when the barista at the coffee shop is happy to see him. 

but you're not just an ordinary person. 

and jujutsu sorcerers--especially trained, strong ones like you--are constantly buzzing with a consistent output of cursed energy. 

your body is engulfed in it. if satoru was any less gifted, he wouldn't even be able to see you beyond any of it. 

but satoru has known you since you were sixteen.

so when you tip-toe into the room, he can already tell that this isn't your normal sneaking-into-his-room-in-the-middle-of-the-night-so-you-can-both-pretend-it-didn't-happen-in-the-morning thing. 

because, well, first of all, you usually don't knock. it's an unspoken thing. and also, you're slouching in the room, and even though satoru has stayed up (not waiting for you, if anyone asks) he doubts that you have. you're much better at falling asleep than he is.

and when you near him, he can see the tint in your eyes. the slightly glassy, avoiding his own, eyes. 

it's not a surprise to him, but something in his chest tugs. 

he likes you all of the time (in every single moment), but he doesn't like when you're six feet under, hiding away from the world like it's something you need to protect yourself from. 

satoru should really lock you up somewhere, happy and healthy, just so he can get over this ridiculous feeling. 

"hey," he whispers, smiling softly at you. "need something?" 

you don't say anything but practically fall into his lap. the wind is knocked out of him, but you ignore that. your arms are quick to fall around his neck, like it's routine, and your legs curl against him. 

you effectively trap him in your hold in less than a second. 

still, satoru doesn't complain. instead, he wraps his arms around the swell of your back, making sure that you won't fall off of the bed with the slightest movement. 

and then your face falls against his chest and satoru instinctively tightens his hold, already prepared to fight whatever's plaguing you. 

there's a reason he's the strongest, after all. 

"feeling lonely?" satoru asks, softly. it lacks his typical teasing tone, which he notes with disdain. still, there's nothing he can do to remedy it now. 

your fingertips graze along the nape of his neck, and satoru tries not to sigh at the feeling. it's a bit ticklish and slightly wicked. 

but you don't nod at his question. you don't shake your head, scowl at him, or tell satoru to shut up. 

the only response is the sound of your exhale, a harsh feeling against his chest, and then your body stilling once again. 

kind of like you're holding your breath. waiting for something to burst from the door and pull you from the moment. 

satoru frowns, hands beginning to trace circles against the skin of your back unconsciously. "what's going on?" 

he wouldn't ask, but this isn't a part of your routine with him. 

usually, you'll each put the kids to bed, taking turns tucking them in, megumi bullying satoru as a sleep aid and tsumiki wanting each of you to sit there and talk for a little bit. 

and then the two of you will clean up the shared spaces, if necessary--satoru typically dragging his feet because you made him--parting ways once you've finished, a lingering glance being shared as you close your doors, pretending to go to bed for the night. 

(that is, on the nights when you don't fall asleep cuddling on the couch first). 

but then, after an appropriate amount of time has passed (or one of you breaks), satoru will crawl into your bed, or you into his, and satoru will kiss you until he's dizzy and you'll cling to him like you'd be very willing to share your bed with him for eternity. 

it's become so familiar that no words need to be exchanged, no questions of if or when. it's simple, and easy, and sometimes satoru has to blink in the dark of his room (or yours) just to be sure that he didn't actually dream all of it up. 

but you're always there, and you're always waiting for him, just like he waits for you. even if it's late, even if it's dark. 

and you can say things when this happens. satoru can whisper that he missed you when he was gone, and you can echo back that you don't like it when he leaves. you'll tell him something about the kids, something that you're worried about, and he'll kiss the spot behind your ear that's sensitive. 

it's just how it is, at this point. and none of it really matters. 

eventually, the two of you will fall asleep just like that, tangled together like a useless ball of yarn. 

but tonight, you don't say anything. you don't try to get him to lay his head against your stomach so you can play with his hair, or attempt to tickle him until he falls against you in defense. there's just silence, now, the harsh beating of your heart. 

and you're holding on to him like you're desperate to keep him right there. 

"nothing," you answer, after almost a minute has passed, voice muffled against his shirt.

satoru swallows, waiting for something more that he knows won't come. he wants to get you to look at him, to pull you away from his body so he can observe you, for even a moment, but he knows that if he even tried you'd recoil. and you wouldn't come back. 

and satoru would rather sleep on the floor than have that. 

"you... okay?" 

you nod, but you're lying. 

satoru could sigh and tell you that he knows that, but he doesn't. this isn't all that unusual, really. not with you, and not to him. 

so he only continues to run his fingers down your back, tracing indiscernible shapes against your skin. he's still sitting up, bent over you as you cling. and he should probably lean back so that you fall asleep. he should probably start talking, or tell you that you shouldn't be up this late--any of the things he would do if he didn't feel trapped in your embrace, entraced in a moment he can't let go.

so he only licks his lips, thinking. 

you're completely still. you don't move when his hand dips to the curve of your hip, or when he breathes intentfully against your head. satoru can't tell if your eyes are closed or not, but he's sure that you're not even blinking. 

"did you have a bad dream?" he asks, eventually, leaning back so you'll stop doing that. gluing yourself to him and making him feel like he's missed something. 

really, if he even tried to do this to you, you'd be complaining. 

you shake your head, but your eyes don't meet his, and satoru can see the twitch of your lip, the flicker of your entire face. your movements are slow, your body only moving when he pokes and prods. 

if he avoids your eyes and scratches his neck when he's lying, then you stay quiet, like you'll break if you say one word. 

"are you sure?" he tilts his head at you, bringing his hands to cup your face. "it's okay if you missed me. it happens." 

your eyes flicker to his reluctantly, but you focus on him immediately. your pupils are small and your eyes are cold, almost empty, and satoru has to lean in to inspect them even closer. 

you shake your head stiffly in his hands but don't bother to argue. at least he got a little reaction from that. 

"oh," he says, after a moment, ignoring the chilling feeling in his chest. "i get it. did tsumiki kick you out?" 

"she was hogging all of the blankets." 

satoru nods, pouting at you. "so you're cold? need me to warm you up?" 

your hands wrap around both of his wrists, and one moment you're just sitting in his lap, and the next satoru is lying against the pillows and you've already shifted so your face hides against the crook of his neck. 

he could complain, but he really doesn't want to. he'll swallow his pride for you, just this once. 

you're a very dangerous person to be around, he realizes, suddenly, because as soon as you get him on his back he has to fight the instinct to fall asleep. he blinks idly at you, wishing you wouldn't try to conceal your face from him. "do you want to talk about it?" 

he can barely feel it when you shake your head against him. 

"i won't judge," he promises, scratching at your scalp. "much." 

you snort against his skin. 

"is there..." he starts, then stops. it's a blow to his ego to be here, to feel this much. but he relents. "can i do something? d'ya wanna make out?" 

you pinch his bicep, and even though he can't see it, satoru can practically feel the eye roll. 

it fills him with an unwarranted delight. he can feel it as you subtly shift into him, beginning to settle your body. at least now he only has to settle your mind. 

if that. 

"is that a no?" 

you sigh against his skin--satoru tries not to flinch at the horrible feeling--and shake your head again. "can you just--i don't know... tell me about your day?" 

he smirks, just barely. "oh, so you've got a voice thing?" 

"satoru," you whisper, but he can feel the clash of your teeth as you smile, and then the gentle bite that you give him--right on his sweet spot--to hide it. 

satoru can't help but flush--he never should've told you about that--but he nods anyway, refusing to let his body succumb to the urge to run far, far away. 

it's not his fault, really. 

it's instinct to want to disappear at your very whim. only natural for satoru to want to give you whatever you need, whenever you need it. 

if you asked him to give up his strength, he would do it in an instant. 

"just talk to me," you whisper, barely a request. more of a demand. unfortunately for satoru, it's late enough for him not to care. (and he likes you).

"okay..." he drawls, thinking for a moment. "so, i--" he pauses, frowning. "you know that we spent basically the whole day together, right? you probably remember more than i do." 

"tell me about yesterday, then." 

"same thing." 

you sigh, digging your nose into his skin. "make something up." 

"why would i--" 

"satoru." 

"okay, okay," he smiles at you, even though you can't see it. "so... i woke up to megumi pulling my hair, which i'm pretty sure you told him to do. and then i ate breakfast, brushed my teeth, and got dressed. and then we dropped off the kids at school. uhhh, then we went to the store, and we looked for those sugar packet things that tsumiki likes. and then--" 

"this is the worst story i've ever heard," you deadpan, mumbling into him. 

satoru scoffs. "you're the one who wanted to hear about my day." 

"say something more interesting." 

satoru rolls his eyes, tugging on your hair a little. then he sighs. "i could tell you about the curse in kawagoe? the one in the shopping district." 

he looks down at you, in question, just in time to see you scrunch your nose in distaste, you breathe into him again so satoru laughs. 

"okay, no curses." he thinks for another moment. "oh, i bought a couple of shirts the other day." 

"what's 'a couple?'" 

"just like, nine or ten." 

you shake your head against his neck but don't say anything. 

so satoru continues. "i just got some button-ups, the ones you like." 

"what color?" 

"blue and white, mostly. like my eyes," he flutters his eyelashes even though you're not looking. "one black shirt, and another sweater." 

"do you really need more clothes?" 

"um, of course." 

you giggle, teeth grazing against his skin once again. 

satoru swallows. "and, uh..." he blinks, trying to regain his train of thought. "do you think i should start getting dad patterns?" 

"dad patterns?" 

"cool shirts." 

"do you want megumi to bully you even more?" you ask, rhetorically, your voice entirely soft. 

satoru can tell that this is working. just the way you're nuzzling yourself even deeper into him, seeking his warmth is a good sign. 

it's also slightly irritating. how is he supposed to think when you're cuddling up to him like this?

he clears his throat. "tsumiki said that they're cool. some plaid, maybe a bird shirt..." 

"if you wear anything like that i'm not going anywhere with you." 

satoru pouts, looking down to see the curve of your lip as you hide a smile. "you don't think i'd look good in stripes?" 

you giggle once more, shaking your head. 

satoru kisses the top of your head, very satisfied with himself at the moment. he got you to crawl out of your cage a bit--if only to get you to crawl into him. 

and even though he knows that you're still upset, still hiding against him, at least you're there. 

he'd much rather you be in his room, with him, than all by yourself, rotting away. 

he'd much rather you be with him always, actually. 

still, satoru continues to bring up blithe topics until he can feel your breathing even out against him, and your body begin to accept his ministrations. 

he kisses the top of your head, and he stays up a little while longer. making sure that you're sound asleep before he even bothers to close his eyes. 

and he's out in an instant. 

*

tsumiki is sitting at the kitchen table, chewing on some cut-up fruit when megumi walks into the room. 

he rubs at his eyes, looking half asleep. still, tsumiki smiles at him. 

"where's mom?" he asks, looking around. 

you're usually up before either of them, even on weekends. tsumiki's used to waking up to the sound of you throwing things around in the kitchen. she'll walk down the hallway to breakfast already set out, you telling her to go get megumi. 

but this morning, all of the lights are off. and there are still a couple of bowls on the table from last night. 

tsumiki shrugs. "still sleeping, i think." 

"and gojo?" 

"what do you think?" she smiles at him, laughing when megumi groans, then shakes his head with a perturbed look on his face. 

"i'm not waking them up this time," he tells her. 

but megumi turns around and walks back down the hall anyway, going to do just that. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[omega-e123]

How would shadow react if you got injured on accident? Recently got injured and had to get stitches and I love your stories so I was wondering what he would do and how he would take care of them 😁

Shadow’s shoes were left unattended by the front door. What psychopath would wear shoes around the house and track dirt?

A short while ago, Shadow excused himself to go to the bathroom. Ever since you two met, you’ve always wanted to try them on. The golden opportunity has finally presented itself.

You plucked them from their spot and proceeded to put them on in the back yard. They were heavy and it’s no wonder why his kicks packed a punch even while not rocket boosted. It took a bit of conscious effort to lift your feet off the ground.

How did he manage to hover in place? On the outside and in, the shoes had a fairly simple and smooth design. No bottons, slides, nothing. Not that you’ve ever seen him do anything in particular to activate them.

Moving to one end of the yard, you break into a sprint. With a little speed it might turn on. It felt as if someone had duck taped 5 pound weights to your feet.

The back door opens with a call of your name. “What are you—,” Shadow was about to ask before being interrupted by a screech combined with rough tumbling into your patio table. In no time at all, bare feet patter against the warm concrete.

Some dirt mixed with blood cakes your palms and knees. With a loud guttural groan, you rolled yourself over to sit on your butt. In front of you, Shadow is knelt down on one knee. His brows knitted together in concern.

The voice that wanted to scold you for your clumsiness is shoved far into the back of his mind. Instead he tenderly takes your hands and brings it closer to his face, inspecting the damage.

A kiss is pressed to your knuckles. “Are you alright? What in the world were you doing?,” he asks, not a speck of anger laced in his words.

“I uhh.. wanted to try out your shoes? I don’t get it. How do they turn on? You usually just start running.

Your legs are next to be checked out. “They work by channeling chaos energy. That’s how I’m able to control the output… Can you stand? Careful not to hit your head.”

Shadow covers the edge of the table with one hand while the other helps you up. A sharp pain is sent to your hip as you rise eliciting a wince and a whine.

“Allow me to help clean your injuries. The last thing we want is to have them get infected.” An arm worms its way around your waist for support. Slow and steady he guides you to the restroom. Of course he’d notice you attempting to hide your limp. A sharp exhale leaves him.

After sitting you down on the toilet seat, he begins to clean the scrapes with a wet towel. Straight to work. Not a single word has been uttered since walking back inside the house. His lips pressed tight, you’re sure Shadow is clenching his jaw.

Guilt of worrying him and possibly damaging his shoes settle in. A mumbled, “I’m sorry” causes Shadow’s ear to flick.

Devoid of emotion he immediately replies, “Next time you want to use my stuff as playthings, ask first.”

His eyes are lasered in at the task at hand. Thankfully, once the blood has been cleaned up, your scrapes don’t look as bad. Nothing a giant bandage can’t fix.

With the final bandage literally slapped on the palm of your hand, he announces ‘done’. Shadow starts to pack up the medical supplies, well aware you’re pouting at him.

“That hurt!”

“Of course it did. That is what happens when you’re not careful,” he deadpans, knowing you had meant the little ‘slap’.

This guy! You’re already in pain and he adds on to it. “Shadow, you put it on wrong. Look, it’s crooked and peeking out.”

Before he puts the kit away, he pulls out one extra bandaid and slips it aside. “Did I?,” Shadow glances at it, “It looks fine to me.”

“No it’s not. Fix it!” You shove your poor aching hand into his face.

Shadow yanks it out of his face. “Alright. Fine.” The old bandage chucked into the trash and the new one replaces its spot with less roughness. He holds your wrist in place while he presses his lips to the bandage. “Is that better?”

“…Yes.”

“Good. I just want to make sure: does anywhere else hurt?”

“Well, I think I busted up my lips earlier too.”

A chuckle escapes him. Smiling, shaking his head, Shadow replies, “I was hoping you would address your limp…” His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking your bottom lip. “But I don’t mind taking care of this first.”

[chiikasevennn]

More Than You Think

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader imagines 🫰🏻🫰🏻🫰🏻

Warning: NSFW AFTER CUT!! Belly bulge RAAAAHHHHH, mating press, I love this man please help me, OOC I THINK MAYBE YEAH DEFINITELY BUT IDRC I JS WANT HIM SM 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 nothing violent, this thing has fluffyyy, couple problems? Idk her I'm happy with my man!! My writing is shit. Not proofread.

—

Imagine Miguel O'hara ended up developing deep feelings for you. Initially, you believed your relationship with him would be short-lived, perhaps lasting only three months, given your past experiences with partners who tended to be temporary. None of them could evoke genuine love in you. However, to your surprise, your relationship with Miguel endured for ten months, and now you found yourself wishing it would never end.

Imagine Miguel O'hara feeling like you were the last and missing piece to complete him, like you were the calm in his storm, a safe harbor where he found solace and peace. He encountered you on the outskirts of town while heading to a renowned library brimming with knowledge. At first, it seemed like a mere coincidence, but as time went by, he found himself anticipating more chance encounters with you.

Imagine Miguel O'hara being a caring partner to you, but god, you were on another level. You were truly lovely. Your authenticity, rationality, and kindness shone through. He adored your sense of humor, finding joy in your quirky jokes even when you dismissed them as corny and laughed at your own silliness. You're cute, like really. That was what he thought.

Imagine Miguel O'Hara growing to love you even more, reaching a point where he thought he couldn't possibly love you any deeper, only to find himself continually surprised as his love for you intensifies beyond what he thought was possible. You weren't only those qualities; you were also nurturing, encouraging, and remarkably affectionate. Although you displayed hesitancy frequently during your time together, once you became more comfortable, you cradled him like a baby.

Imagine Miguel O'Hara growing more at ease as well, you created a safe environment where he felt free to be vulnerable, unafraid to reveal aspects of himself he once considered weaknesses. You consistently emitted an aura that he couldn't deny was soothing and captivating. Many times, he'd be enveloped in your embrace, comforted by your affectionate whispers, growing more attached as he welcomed your love. Your gentle caresses on his scalp, coupled with tender kisses on his forehead, made him feel cherished and complete—truly, you meant the world to him.

"I love you," You murmured softly as you pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, convinced of his slumber as you felt his body unwind within your embrace. With a serene exhale, you shut your eyes, surrendering to the peacefulness enveloping you.

Miguel embraced you tighter, mindful not to overwhelm. Drawing nearer, he took in the fragrance of your presence.

NSFW!!

Imagine Miguel O'Hara gently sweeping your hair aside, leaning in to place a caring kiss on your forehead, whispering sweet words into the stillness between the two of you as he pounded drastically into you. He had you in a mating press, legs spread just for him, holding and touching you everywhere his hands could get.

"Shit— shitshitshit," a kiss to your lips, "—you're doing—" another, "—such… A good job, m'love," In that moment, his lips met yours with an intense passion, delving into a profound kiss. He let his sperm leak inside you, his cock hitting your cervix that sent you to heavens. Miguel's mouth watered as he gazed upon the unmistakable swell of your belly.

That was all his inside you. His cum. The input that would soon become a wonderful output. Miguel teetered on the edge of primal instinct. He cursed before He swore under his breath before fiercely capturing your lips, relishing the flavor of your kiss as he slammed back into your cove, cumming so deep inside of you. You couldn't moan anymore, for you were already stuffed way too much—from your mouth and to your hole. Your mind went numb, only wanting Miguel and nobody else as he kept fucking you so hard that if anyone would come in, it'd immediately be assumed that he hated you.

Your tears continued to stream down your cheeks, your emotional dependency on Miguel akin to that of a child, craving more of him with every fiber of your being.

Just as you felt on the verge of passing out from the lack of oxygen, Miguel reluctantly withdrew. Both of you gasped for air, breathing heavily, while love marks adorned your bodies in abundance.

You embraced him back against your body and kissed his neck. "... I l—love you," voice hoarse due to the amount of noise you had freed.

With a smile, Miguel leaned in and pressed a long, tender kiss to your temple.

"... I love you, too."

Your smile mirrored his own gentleness. He loved you. Of course, you were well aware of his love for you, hearing those words, so seldom uttered, left you feeling both physically and mentally weak. And Miguel? He melted. Shit, you were so shockingly beautiful. He'd been pounding into your poor pussy for what seemed like hours, and here you were, loving him throughout the process, basically just so so in love.

Miguel may not say it verbally, but he loves you. More than you think.

[covid-safer-hotties]

N95 Masks Nearly Perfect at Blocking COVID, UMD Study Shows

Any common face mask provides significant protection against the virus that causes COVID-19, but N95 masks are most effective at slashing the amount emitted by infected people, according to a University of Maryland-led study released Wednesday.

So-called “duckbill” N95 masks scored highest in the study, which measured the exhaled breath of participants who were tested both masked and unmasked to measure comparative outputs of SARS-CoV-2. The inexpensive masks, which have two head straps and a horizontal seam, captured 98% of exhaled virus, according to the study published in eBioMedicine.

The researchers also found that—in what might come as a surprise to many—cloth masks outperformed the specific brand of KN95 mask that was tested. Surgical masks brought up the rear in performance out of the four types, but even they blocked 70% of the virus, the tests showed. (To reflect the general public's use of masks, study volunteers were not fit-tested for their masks or trained how to properly wear them.)

“The research shows that any mask is much better than no mask, and an N95 is significantly better than the other options. That’s the No. 1 message,” says the study’s senior author, Donald Milton, a professor of environmental health and a global expert on how viruses spread through the air.

The results also suggest that N95 masks, also known as respirators, should be the standard of care in nursing homes and health care settings when respiratory viral infections are prevalent and transmission risk is elevated, the researchers said. 

Read the full text and get a link to the study at our covid archive:

[auckie]

New breakaway school of chiropractic thought that all disease is caused not by night air, but grey air, which is specifically the air you suck in from a dead vape expecting a sip. Before vapes existed grey air was created through the exhaust fans of computers, consoles, vacuums, and before the advent of electricity or combustion engines of any kind, breath exhaled that was inhaled by mistake— so like if a dog sighs and you breath that in, or if someone coughs and you’re yawning right next to their face. This grey air is very mild however, and bioaccumulates through generations, which is why our tolerance is higher, but so is our subconscious desire to output the grey air, mostly through vapes nowadays. It should be noted that charged and juiced vape does not create grey air, nor do cigarettes or any kind of substance that is not specifically either nicotine salts or the weird. What is like glycerin product that contains nicotine in vapes— and NOT those substances but the absence of them when sipping on a vape, because it’s dead. Oh also the air above a toilet is grey air. And in the tank, but it’s heavy so it sits in the bowl and doesn’t really escape even during the flush due to the downward pull of the vortex and also the negative energy of the waste that’s being flushed. This is very vulgar talk so don’t repeat this around women. That’s what new chiropractors believe at least. But you didn’t hear it from me 😉

[callsign-relic]

thought for the night…. Sleeping on a mech’s chest, but focusing on the sound of their breathing. By all accounts, bots don’t breathe— or at least they don’t need to. But there’s always an intake and output of air rushing through their systems at all times. And this cycle of air just happened to sound like human breathing.

Hearing and feeling just how much air they take in with just a single breath through their vents. It would be enough to buffet you if you were standing close enough. And the exhale, enough to ruffle your hair and clothes.

Just. Big mechs and the inherent, yet unintentional power in everything they do, powerful only due to the disparity in size compared to a mere human like you <3

[miscling]

AERS.exe log AERS running at 10% - arousal level is capped at 10%, arousal felt over that boundary is stored within the Arousal Energy Retention System, to be discharged by Mother Controller at her discretion. This log represents a system test. Experiences: Spikes of arousal from stimuli quickly faded, storage felt in lower abdomen above the vagina in the pubic mound. mild gains from thinking about the discharge, sometimes circular. thinking about discharge causes arousal, arousal is absorbed, thinking about increased discharge strength causes arousal, arousal is absorbed, and so on. thoughts around M1SC's drone status causes pleasure spikes in its chest, unrelated to arousal. high gains from day's activities revolving around little activities. one conversation increased stored arousal by a large amount. as part of the day's activities, faefae (M1SC's little name) played with its magic wand, arousal from physical stimulation was quickly absorbed by the AERS, resulting in large gain to stored charge. spent time with Lucy Valeheart, commentary on M1SC's little status increased stored charge, discussion of AERS programming increased charge moderately, mild degradation moment and teasing caused large arousal spike. usual response to degradation was heavily absorbed by AERS, leaving M1SC's physical and vocal response muted. writing this log caused high arousal spikes. AERS limitation is holding steady. Expectations: M1SC expects AERS discharge to be intense, and is unable to provide an estimate of charge levels. Nestie is very curious to see what discharge will do to M1SC Discharge: discharge process involved a 10 to 0 countdown, with discharge growing intense by the 7 count and blinding by the count of 0. at 0 the discharge was completed. as expected, discharge was extremely powerful. complete bodily orgasm caused intense muscular arching for a few minutes, with aftershocks lasting a few minutes longer. audio output was loud and continuous during the discharge period. long gasping moans on inhale and exhale, with lots of incoherent vocalisation. M1SC completely collapsed upon complete discharge, entering a rag-dolled state with complete lack of motor or speech control. internal processors had also stopped functioning. the system enjoyed the discharge in its entirety. Recovery: motor control recovered first. slowly. began with neck movements. eyelid control slowly recovered. twitch in hands allowed for elbow control that was very difficult. over time motor control returned with stretching and movement. facial expressions did not return to normal throughout recovery process. test phrase for speech centre: 'i'm a good drone' was lodged in its speech centre for at least 10 minutes. words eventually returned slowly. test phrase was repeated over and over, in place of other statements for which M1SC could not verbalise. breathing was heavy throughout the recovery period. M1SC reported several internal errors though was reassured these were false positives. comfort commands allowed for reassurance. due to internal processing difficulties complete system reboot of M1SC was recommended by the M1SC machine to restore systems to functionality. complete shutdown procedure was successful in restoring system functionality. Nestie Observation: 'that was fun to hear' Nestie expressed approval of discharge process. expressed pleasure at events that treat M1SC 'mean in a good way'. Conclusion: AERS system test was extremely successful. M1SC reports high satisfaction and excitement to run the AERS again, describing the experience as interesting, fascinating, and extremely enjoyable. AERS has been reinitialised at 10% for a 24 hour charging period.

[mishy-mashy]

Do you think Banjo is the type of person who hides his problems behind a clown mask?

The guy acts like a bit of comedy relief, but I think he's the kind of person to face his problems head-on. I don't think he uses humor as a coping mechanism. We never see him do that for himself. He's just a loud guy

Look at how he first appears to Midoriya

He's loud, and it steals Midoriya's attention. But he's calling him out on why he's messing up

But as a character's debut, the first things he does are:

Call out Midoriya for trying to do things alone, when Yoichi's first message to him was that he wasn't

Tell him that if he can compose himself, things typically work out

Understands Midoriya's side of things, and tells him he knows (like lacking a mouth)

And once he says those two previous things, he exhales, and his eyes show their pupils properly

The parting advice he gives Midoriya is a reiteration of the second point: It's okay to be mad. What's important is controlling your heart.

Blackwhip is a Quirk that responds to the holder's emotions. Like other Quirks, but Blackwhip goes out of control when the user isn't able to get a grip on themselves

Banjo used his Quirk effectively. He'd have to live that advice to pass it on to Midoriya, back when Abilities were starting to become normal, but Japan was still wrecked. And we know that Quirks are influenced by, and influence, the holder's personality.

Banjo would have to be able to be honest with himself, understand his emotions, and has the maturity to say it's okay to be mad. Just control it.

When he said that for the first time, it actually surprised me. Everyone in fiction or reality says "Don't be mad", but a character on his debut and says it's okay to be that. I never heard anyone say that controlling your emotions and outputting them in a healthy manner is what matters. People just say not to he negative or annoying, because it's inconvenient; but Banjo went past that.

And when he fades, he tells Midoriya he's got this. He reminds him that they're all behind him.

Whenever he speaks, he doesn't make the receiver feel bad, or speak down to them. He understands them, and gives the next step in a familiar, friendly way.

On his debut, he told Midoriya to control his heart, and to remember he wasn't alone. Here, he tells him he should try understanding their Quirks better.

He's actually got a mature way of seeing things. He's an adult, and being the holder between Shinomori and En, he wouldn't be able to deal with either of them if he wasn't mature about himself. Shinomori probably wouldn't choose someone who can't be honest with himself upfront, after spending almost half his life for OFA. And En is young, prone to panic, and a guy who acts like his problems aren't there or funny wouldn't help that.

I can visualize Banjo sitting at a small fire with Shinomori, having an honest, calm talk about life (until Shinomori says the wrong thing and Banjo yells something about it). But not Banjo trying to push his problems down with a hearty laugh, and Shinomori being okay with that.

When Midoriya used his Quirk for the first time, Banjo did get loud at the start, but he did lecture him in a way that was kinda teacher-mentor-ish.

I actually like the way Banjo talks about his observances. He's got the demeanor of a good teacher, he's clear, and direct. He's light-hearted about serious things, but doesn't diminish them. He just approaches it in a way that you aren't feeling the pressure, and can feel like it's possible.

He seems to have this habit of being loud to get people's attention, and simmers down once he has it. He's never indirect or leaving the addressed to figure out the answer on their own, he gives it outright.

When Midoriya used Blackwhip for the first time, Banjo was all "You got it all wrong!" and then explained things. Since he felt himself fading, he could've been talking louder to compensate himself past the daze he felt. To make sure he was talking, heard, and to keep himself awake

When the first Three made the void silent because Kudo and Bruce didn't want to help, Banjo broke it with what Midoriya should do next

When Shinomori got yoinked, the first thing Banjo did was report it in a panic to Midoriya. This just tells Midoriya he really has to be careful now, because OFA can really be stolen. Even if Banjo just panics and doesn't say that aloud

Every time Banjo is facing some kind of problem, he doesn't let others panic too hard. He's not pressuring about problems, and steps back to let Midoriya figure things out.

When Midoriya was running himself into the ground, Banjo was one of the vestiges that didn't show up to tell him to rest. He already understood how Midoriya saw things, and was doing them his own way

Rather than trying to be a clown, I think Banjo is just a friendly person. He's honest with others and with himself, otherwise he wouldn't have been able to utilize Blackwhip right, or be the holder between a sagey hermit and young, scared adult.