#its more coherence and less pictures

[fixomnia-scribble]

WOW.

Scientists found an amazingly well-preserved village from 3,000 years ago

Text below, in case article access dries up:

LONDON — A half-eaten bowl of porridge complete with wooden spoon, communal rubbish bins, and a decorative necklace made with amber and glass beads are just a handful of the extraordinarily well-preserved remnants of a late Bronze Age hamlet unearthed in eastern England that’s been dubbed “Britain’s Pompeii” and a “time capsule” into village life almost 3,000 years ago.

The findings from the site, excavated in 2015 to 2016, are now the subject of two reports, complete with previously unseen photos, published this week by University of Cambridge archaeologists, who said they cast light onto the “cosy domesticity” of ancient settlement life.

“It might be the best prehistoric settlement that we’ve found in Britain,” Mark Knight, the excavation director and a co-author of the reports, said in an interviewThursday. “We took the roofs off and inside was pretty much the contents,” he said. “It’s so comprehensive and so coherent.”

The reason for the rare preservation: disaster.

The settlement, thought to have originally consisted of several large roundhouses made of wood and constructed on stilts above a slow-moving river, was engulfed by a fire less than a year after being built.

During the blaze, the buildings and much of their contents collapsed into a muddy river below that “cushioned the scorched remains where they fell,” the university said of the findings. This combination of charring from the fire and waterlogging led to “exceptional preservation,” the researchers found.

“Because of the nature of the settlement, that it was burned down and its abandonment unplanned, everything was captured,” Knight added.

“As we excavated it, there was that feeling that we were picking over someone else’s tragedy,” he said of the eerie site in the swampy fenland of East Anglia. “I don’t think we could smell the fire but the amount of ash around us — it felt close.”

Researchers said they eventually unearthed four large wooden roundhouses and an entranceway structure, but the original settlement was probably “twice as big.”

The site at Must Farm dates to about 850 B.C., eight centuries before Romans came to Britain. Archaeologists have been shocked at “just how clear the picture is” of late Bronze Age life based on the level of detail uncovered, Knight said.

The findings also showed that the communities lived “a way of life that was more sophisticated than we could have imagined,” Duncan Wilson, head of Historic England, the public body responsible for preserving England’s historic environment, said in a statement.

The findings unearthed include a stack of spears, possibly for hunting or defense; a decorative necklace “with beads from as far away as Denmark and Iran”; clothes of fine flax linen; and a female adult skull rendered smooth, “perhaps a memento of a lost loved one,” the research found.

The inhabitants’ diet was also rich and varied, including boar, pike and bream, along with wheat and barley.

A pottery bowl with the finger marks of its maker in the clay was also unearthed, researchers said, still containing its final meal — “a wheat-grain porridge mixed with animal fats” — with a wooden spatula resting inside the bowl.

“It appears the occupants saved their meat juices to use as toppings for porridge,” project archaeologist Chris Wakefield said in the university’s news release. “Chemical analyses of the bowls and jars showed traces of honey along with ruminant meats such as deer, suggesting these ingredients were combined to create a form of prehistoric honey-glazed venison,” he added.

Skulls of dogs — probably kept as pets and to help with hunting — were also uncovered, and the dogs’ fossilized feces showed they fed on scraps from their owners’ meals, the research found.

The buildings, some connected by walkways, may have had up to 60 people living there all together, Knight said, along with animals.

Although no intact sets of human remains were found at the site, indicating that the inhabitants probably fled the fire safely, several sheep bones were found burned indoors. “Skeletal remains showed the lambs were three to six months old, suggesting the settlement was destroyed sometime in late summer or early autumn,” according to the university’s news release.

Ceramic and wooden vessels including tiny cups, bowls and large storage jars were also found. Some pots were even designed to nest, stacked inside one another, Knight said — evidence of an interest in aesthetics as well as practicality.

A lot of similar items were found replicated in each home, Knight added, painting the picture of completely independent homesteads for each family unit rather than distinct buildings for shared tasks — much like we live today.

Household inventories often included metal tools, loom weights, sickles for crop harvesting, axes and even handheld razors for cutting hair.

The roundhouses — one of which had almost 50 square meters (nearly 540 square feet) of floor space — had hearths and insulated straw and clay roofs. Some featured activity zones for cooking, sleeping and working akin to modern-day rooms.

The Must Farm settlement has produced the largest collection of everyday Bronze Age artifacts ever discovered in the United Kingdom, according to Historic England, which partly funded the 1.1 million pound ($1.4 million) excavation project.

The public body labeled the site a “time capsule,” including almost 200 wooden artifacts, over 150 fiber and textile items, 128 pottery vessels and more than 90 pieces of metalwork. Some items will go on display at the nearby Peterborough Museum next month.

Archaeologists never found a “smoking gun” cause for the fire, Knight said. Instead, they suspect it was either an attack from “outside forces,” which may explain why the inhabitants never returned to collect their possessions from the debris, or an accidental blaze that spread rapidly across the tightly nestled homes.

“Probably all that was left was the people and what they were wearing; everything else was left behind,” Knight said of the fire.

But the preservation has left a window for people to look back through in the future. “You could almost see and smell their world,” he said.

“The only thing that was missing was the inhabitants,” Knight added. “And yet … I think they were there — you certainly got glimpses.”

[chrissshub]

SORCERER DRIVE

༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ PAIRINGSؘ: Pervert Neighbor!Gojo Satoru x Fem!reader

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WORD COUNT: 12.2k

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ CW: dubcon, noncon voyeurism, perverted themes, teasing, exhibtionism, groping, male masturbation, use of sex toy, talks of wet dreams, phone sex, implied voice kink, oral(f & m receiving) fingering, heavy clit play, slight themes of possessiveness (gojo just really wants you) public sex, multiple orgasms, begging, pussydrunk!Gojo, couch sex, pussywhipped!Gojo, creampie, overstimulation, aftercare

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄XOXO, CHRIS: It’s finally here :))) Literally so proud of this fic. I put aside all my other wips for this and God, I’m just so excited to share it with you guys :P

˚ ༘♡₊˚ˑ༄ WANT MORE?ؘ 

pt. 2 ft. Toji (TBD)

Sorcerer Drive.

It’s a quiet neighborhood away from the buzz of the city, casted away by freshly cut grass, swaying trees, and a piece of mind. The suburban street holds twelve pristine homes—no more and no less. Some of these homes hold couples, families, and even singles; all escaping from the hectic life of the city. Its occupants aren’t what many would call typical however, each life sharing in its vibrancy.

Sorcerer Drive is also home to one Gojo Satoru, the twenty-eight-year-old man of unhinged transparency. He’s kind, open with his home, his heart—and his intentions. He’s persistent, a little too persistent to get exactly what he wants. His signature ruse of soft words and sly manners are all cause for harm, stringing along one too many housewives during the days he had off.

He knows it’s wrong to invade but it’s the attention he seeks, longing to fill some hole in his iron-clad heart. Every woman he sets his eyes on can never really commit to Gojo, some wary of his hidden natures. His sought-out success is usually foiled by the first date, ruined by a degrading facet he can’t repress all that well. It’s unfitting for a man like him to act in such a way, unable to subdue his perverse ways.

As far as Gojo’s aware, he’s always been like this, falling apart in the presence of women. He can’t help it, the desire that sits deep within his belly. There’s something about a woman that throws all of Gojo’s coherency out the window and pulls his insatiability to mind. He’s dangerously in love with every quality of those who tease his eye. He can’t go without wondering how his latest muse would look beneath him.

Even in his neighborhood, his perverted tendencies still bled through his new persona. He’d stare at whatever crossed his way—the tops of breasts jiggling during the morning runs of the housewives, snapping pictures of the many panties slips creeping out from the shortest of dresses at cookouts, even shamelessly ogling at how the wives shower their husbands in kisses.

Block parties were his favorite, he’s cocky with the husbands but flirty with the housewives. He knows all the tricks to pull, what to say, where to touch playfully, just to simply chase some fleeting attention for those around him—solely to end with him gaining yet another enemy.

Yet, in the three years he’s lived in the quiet neighborhood, Gojo’s never known what the company of a woman can do for him. None have ever been welcoming of his antics, both bold and suggestive. He only thrives off what surrounds him, gathering his collective moments of joy.

And it’s been that tragic cycle for as long as he’s known…until fate pulled on his tattered string.

There’s a house before his own, a shade of a pretty blue with its complements of white. And for as long as Gojo’s lived on the street, it’s never known the feeling of holding life. However, it wasn’t until just a few days ago that the desperate call for company was answered, the pitted sale sign finally freed from its staked prison.

Upon sight of the sign’s removal, Gojo’s imagination hasn’t found rest. He could begin to think of who his mystery neighbor could be—though, he hoped for a beautiful woman without the strings of a relationship or a family. He hoped for someone who was free for bonds of a family, could take in him for all he was, perfections and flaws alike.

Even now, he’s found himself whisked into the fantasy world of his living room window, watching the gathering clutter of brown boxes on the lawn of the neighboring house. Why, Gojo’s bubbling with an excitement so rich, he’s abandoned the breakfast he’s worked so hard to prepare. The icy hues of his eyes linger along every corner of the opposing house’s window, desperate to gain some insight into his soon-to-be acquaintance.

It’s almost unlike Gojo to express such childish whimsy, his fair skin roused with a cherry bliss. The highs of his cheeks and ears share in the same reality, dusted in its whimsical pink glow. The trilling giggles roll from his tongue, warming the air in its purity. He’s never found himself in such a state as this one, unsure of what really brews in the back of his mind.

He knows it’s something. It could be the joy of having a new face in the neighborhood, one who has yet to learn of his true natures. It could be the mystery clouding around said face, though he prays it’s the woman of his dreams. Needless to say, his reaction is a mindless one, the spill of words riddled with the confusion of intrigue and lust.

“God, I think I’m in love!”

A strained groan cuts through the air, Gojo’s uttering met with his own resistance. He’s reluctant to give into himself but can’t find anything to do except that. There’s a chance that his inspiring thoughts could be for naught, only to be met with the harsh reality awaiting him. The thick digits of his hand strum through the pure white locks of his hair, paired with a fatal sigh breaking the air.

Whether he is right or wrong. Gojo knows he alone stands in the way of discovering the truth. It’s because of that realization that he can swallow down his nerves—and pride—to make the first move in the unofficial game of cat and mouse, peeling away from his kitchen window and slipping out through his back door.

That lone thought fuels him, knowing that has to uncover the mystery before anyone else gets their hands on his muse. Gojo simply had to make the first impression, gathering his abundance of confidence to stroll through his front door, large hands sinking deep into the pockets of his navy slacks.

Dizziness dots his sights with patchy stars and all Gojo can do is bear the grave thumps of his heart clogging his sanities. “So much for that dopey build of confidence, huh Satoru?” the sole muttering to pass through Gojo’s lips as the fog of doubt doubles in its weight.

It’s the possibility that his hopes could be shattered upon the reveal of who now dons the title of his neighbor. He knows his whims can’t manifest into the woman of his dream but maybe the universe can smile down on him just this once…right?

Gojo peels his hands from his pockets, allowing for the pad of his digit to linger over the small button of a doorbell for a moment. He’s already come so far for second thought, being overwhelmed by the sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourishing all too well in his veins. The pearly whites of his teeth sink into the plush of his lips as he takes in a final breath, his finger pressing gently against the doorbell.

In a matter of seconds, the white door rips open from its post, revealing to Gojo a sight for sore eyes. It’s a dream turned into reality as the door rips from its post, all of his whims manifesting before his blown eyes.

Gojo’s breathing it all in, the woman leaning against the door’s frame with an arm braced for balance. He can’t begin to comprehend his thoughts, the composure he’s lost within moments gone to the wind. The heavy thumps of his heart chime at his ears once more the longer Gojo stares at your disinterest, a frigid wash of nerves licking across his skin.

There’s uncaringness riddled in the hues of your eyes—— the annoyance of interruption bleeding through to your spoken words.

“Listen, for the last time, I just moved here. I don’t wanna sign up for the—oh…hello there.”

Gojo’s still stifled in his thoughts, the presence of you rendering him numb. He had yet to speak without removing his eyes from you, scanning down the luscious curves hidden beneath the silk black robe. He clings to a scene quite particular in his favor,  the supple mounds of your cleavage spilling from the robe.

“Um…,” your tone soaked in tender concern, eyelids narrowing in sight at the stricken man, “You look a little red in the face, sir. Are you okay, do you need some water or–”

The sinister blend of intrigue and lust flourish all too well in his veins as Gojo’s hand rushes to cut the air, the brash attempt to hold contact with you.

“I’m Gojo Satoru, 28 years old and I live right there, across the street…from…you!” His cherry-tipped ears are met with the delight of a giggle, your soft palm slipping into his own.

“Nice to meet you, Gojo. I’m Y/N! Call me your new neighbor!”

Gojo nods at your words, battling his snowflake-like lashes. He’s managed to pull you into a senseless conversation about the neighborhood, linked hands losing their strength. Your burning questions should matter to him, but Gojo’s too enthralled at serving his palm passing glances, the tingling warmth dancing about his skin.

“Fuck, can’t wait to see if her hand’s this soft ‘round me. S’ soft and warm, just squeezing at every inch of me,” Gojo’s unfiltered thoughts wandering to unreached highs.

It’s lewd in the way Gojo thinks, his mind far more deranged than what he’s led to believe. A switch flicks in his brain, his pervasive tendencies edging to ruin what facade he’s worked so hard to withhold. He’s seconds into a cliché trial of small talk, but can’t ignore how puffy your lips get when his words pull a giggle from your chest, or how your fingers rattled along the frame mindlessly.

It has him pondering—imagining—how puffy your lips could become against his own, smothered in a mess of spit and sparse bites. His cock thumps at the lewd thought, hoping that one day your thumb would work the same mindless pattern along his blushed head as you do to the wooden frame.

And he has yet to address the way your legs cross in your leaned stance, his thoughts hinged on the bundle of warmth residing between the chub of your inner thighs. He, your robe highlighting the little bow of your panties imprinting itself through the thin robe. One wrong move and he’ll see it all, the fat lips of your cunt just barely fitted behind pesky sheets of fabric.

Yet he’s so desperate to maintain the peace that Gojo has no choice but to shed his immoral self, his laggard breaths setting onto a steady pace. A subtle shake of his head is all it takes for what moments he can get, following his way back into the closing conversation.

“Well, I hope to see you around, Gojo.”

Maddening is the only thing fit to describe Gojo’s state, desperately searching to earn a minute more of his presence. He simply couldn’t return home, at least not yet. How could he willingly turn back knowing that you—the woman of his dreams—existed within fifteen feet of his reach? He had to find a way to entrap you, ensure that he’d be the only man to ever enter the temple of your home.

“W-Wait! If you ever—and I mean ever— need me for an extra pair of hands, I’m right here…unless your husband isn’t okay with that?”

“Oh, that’s not gonna be possible…considering that I’ve been divorced for the past two years. But since you’re offering, I’ll call on you!”

Before the moment can end, Gojo digs into his back pocket, pulling his phone out as another conversational segway.

“Can I get your number then? Makes it easier for both you and me.”

Gojo watches as you take the phone from him, thumbs typing away at the ten digits needed. He studies the focus that shrouds your features, imprinting every detail he can take. The gentle coo of your voice breaks his concentration, does eyes of a frigid blue falling in line with you.

“Here you go, hopefully, you’ll get a call soon…Gojo.”

All you do is give Gojo a giddy smile as you place the device back into his palm, before waving goodbye, bringing the door in delayed haste. You don’t know what you’ve done by revealing that detail to Gojo, the man stiff with an impressional glee.

The limited interaction plagues Gojo’s mind for the day’s remainder, the evening rolling around through his feverish daze. It’s been ensnared in his brain longer than he’s anticipated, his lewd thoughts following him into the night’s shower.

Water droplets bloom against his skin, washing away the snowy suds of soap and a sliver of his day’s sins. Gojo believed he had a handle on himself as he showered—until the white noise of silence leads his troubled mind to stray. He can’t get over how perfect you are, your smile, your voice, down to how the robe just barely protected you from him. He’d be lying if he didn’t want to see more, remembering how his digits twitch with the absurdity to strip your body down to the beauty of bare skin.

It’s such a thought that Gojo couldn’t help himself, his cock strained with a painful urge. Each droplet of the showerhead’s water struck him heavier than the last. The whimpers that rip from his chest are nothing short of chilling disgust. He didn’t want to lace his shaky hand around the thick tip, sealing the spry nerves in an etching fist.

His need for release has him so weak, his body trusting the brace of his forehead against the gray tile. He can’t ignore the ghastly sensitivity his body is forced to endure. From the building steam clouding his tiled chamber, his robust shower gel slicking him a cold sheen, he’s nearly crumbled beneath his own mundane actions.

Did you have to dress so freely, innocently provoking the hellish terror residing deep inside Gojo’s stomach. The pulling gush has yet to suspend, its heat swelling at his balls. He can feel the bloat of cum growing heavier than he’s ever bared.

That’s why Gojo brings his eyes to a close, filthy scenes obscuring his mind with images of you naked on his bed. He can see everything so clearly it’s utterly shameful—those legs of yours parted just for him, dainty fingers working hard at the cute bulb of your clit. Gentle, soft enough to coax shivering pretty moans from your chest. Gojo’s mentally noting how your touch trails between your folds to your glossy slit, two fingers barely fitting inside.

The tips of his digits tease the inflamed head of his cock with whispy swipes, foamy bubbles of pre trickling past his worked knuckles. Yet the crippling sensation isn’t enough for Gojo, bringing the full brute of his strength to strum about his cock. He doesn’t even have time to admire how his veins rise to meet his touch, the overwhelming rush of blood causing his head to spin.

“Just like that, k-keep going,—fuck, you’re so tight!”

He’s hung on the sight of you, weakened hips hoisting into the air with the swift delves of your fingers scarcely stretching your slit. There’s no comparison in his mind, knowing that your digits could never reach as deep as his cock could. You’re just barely scratching the surface of your body as far as he believes, leaving so much untouched yet so much to be discovered. He can almost hear you too, his mind conjuring the sweetest coos he has but to indulge.  

At that alone, Gojo’s body falls into a shuddering hunch, his back folding at the breathless stir in his lungs. His slender hand lays waste to his poor cock, careless strides roaming from base to tip. To Gojo’s demise, it’s all in vain. He can’t handle the recoils of his strokes, the insufferable drag towards the bed of messy white hair freeing breathless moans from his chest. Even the force he strived to maintain shattered in his hands, bare thighs bearing the rippling waves stinging at his balls.

“You’re gonna keep playing with that pretty pussy fr’ me, right? I—fuck—need you to, Baby…‘m so close!”

His precum’s sticky when it spreads further across the expanse of his cock, the vile squelches echoing in his ear. He only seems to be growing more within his hand, bigger, thicker, and farther from his envied high.

“Fuckfuckfuck, I wanna cum for you, Y/N! S’ bad! Wanna watch it drip everywhere, your tits, cute funny, all over your pussy! I j-just wann—“

The rushing spill of white rinses over Gojo’s hand, the beads of water rising away his sins. Through the huffs of his emptied lungs, he stands in dismay, watching every drop wither into the abyss of nothing. His hand softly smacks the wall of the shower, quivering lips muttering his final thoughts.

“You weren’t supposed to waste it, Princess. All my hard work…gone like that.”

Regret sets in as a sigh empties from Gojo’s chest, his weary hand turning the shiny valve. The water’s suspension seals the last of his misfortune, the man returning to reality when he steps from the glass chamber. Disgust doesn’t resonate with Gojo as he peers into his mirror, imprints of steam drifting across the glass. It’s a passing glance but one he’s dangerously proud of amidst strolling towards his dimmed bedroom.

His digits reach for the towels he’s laid across the mahogany duvets, the contrasting fibers grazing across his skin. Gojo’s inches from it before a sight like no other catches his greedy eye, eyelids parting in pure shock.

To his unfortunate luck, the windows of his bedroom peer straight into yours—one free of any coverage as of now.

It’s a sight he knows he’s too blessed for, your body sheathed in the plush towel of white. It’s clingy, hinged on every curve of your figure. A squint is forced upon Gojo as he focuses on you, watching the faint sheet of fluff unravel at a single tug. Lust consumes him, clouded hues gawking at the plump swells of your chest and the curves of your physique, all set in his untimely direction.

Gojo’s hand settles over his chest, hardened pads drifting down to his flittering abs. He can’t believe it, how dumb you could be to allow a man like him to gaze at the divine physique of your body. A feeble pry claws at Gojo’s fading will, pulling him to fall onto his bed.

He gives you one final glance before whimpering out his distressing plea.

“Look at you, so close but so far…’nd you’re so perfect.”

His hand slips into the top drawer of his bedside, the shameful shell of his beloved pocket pussy falling into his grasp. Was it wrong of Gojo to get off to his explicit thought once more? Even going as far as to use what scene he had of you for entertainment?

Why...of course not.

His digits race to greet his mouth, the makeshift cup pooling with his spit. All it takes is a single rushed stroke to coat his length in the threaded gloss, eagerly nuzzling the slit of the toy over his own.

He’s swift to feed the growing impatience, pulling the toy to loosely hang around the tip of his cock. Sensitivity aided in his hand, the stings of the recent orgasm lingering at the forefront of his brain. Everything’s still clouded to Gojo, the blinding pulls along his girth to bring him to the present.

It soon became a harsh pill to swallow, that pit in his stomach deepening. He’s studying how the toy’s lips spread around his cock, the scene shrouding a haze of disgust over him.  It’s nothing as he wishes it to be, no warmth, no gush, no heavenly moans begging for him to slow down. The feeling’s merely sinking deeper in Gojo’s mind, his body falling flat onto the bed at last.

“S-Shit…it’s not tight enough—fuck!”

His grip couldn’t afford to be any more endearing, his throbbing cock engulfed in a numbing squeeze. In truth, Gojo wasn’t sure what he was so desperate for, giving aim to an unsure goal. His hand could squeeze, swivel, and pull at his shaft all they wanted, but nothing can ever compare to the anticipation of having you clamped around him, struggling to take each fattened inch. He has yet to comprehend what has his hips jolting to meet the toy’s sad excuse for a cervix, or why his lust for you brought along gravitating rivers of sweat to lave across his scorned body.

“I-I can’t even– it’s no good, ‘m not gonna cum when the real thing is right there,” the summoning of Gojo’s desperate call to awaken. He’s aggravated with urgency, anxious to cum, but all the while, can’t commit to chasing the sweet high. The wretched pocket pussy gets paid a mere gaze, only to be ripped off his twitching cock with strings of glimmering precum in tow.

He wants to be the bigger person, to shut his own blinds out of respect...then again, Gojo isn’t that kind in both morals or character. Laying in his own misery, he stole a few gaps at you, grinning at how the night’s attire of a white tank and pink panties suited you best.

Amidst his gaudy oglings, sleep edges at his mind as heavy eyelids follow in the sun’s setting path. Gojo giggles to himself before mouthing off once more, ensuring that his mischievous dreams, and desires would soon manifest in his hands.

“Pray for the day I get my hands on you, Y/N. I swear I’m never letting go.”

Those words loom over Gojo’s head for the duration of the week, serving as a reminder to him. Why, he has to be on his best behavior for you, pitting all his perverted mannerisms to rot. During the day, he catches you on your daily expedition to the mailbox for idle chatter. It’s a fleeting few minutes but Gojo learns more and more about you. Within the days he’s caught your attention, he’s learned about your occupation, your favorite foods, and films.

He’s saving all these trivial exchanges for a certain day—like today— for when Gojo crosses your path again, a day written by the Gods themselves.

Since he had the chance to meet you, Gojo’s thoughts have revolved around you and only you. Your smile, your laugh, the way your nose scrunches while deep in thought—all of it, Gojo’s been hung up on. His days are spent on you, thoughts and imagination dedicated to you and you alone. He can’t help but reminisce on the minutes he’d spend with you, the mere trade of words igniting a hidden facet in his heart.

He’s unsure of what to call it, the very thing that hinders his day-to-day life as of late. He’s too intrigued to call it a crush but wouldn’t dare tread the lines of obsession. It’s a conflicting matter for one such as him, one that tests every fiber in Gojo’s being. 

He’s never been so attentive to someone other than himself before, his interest in you surpassing the field of lust alone. He can spend hours just thinking about you, how you smiled at him the first time with such care, how you made him melt beneath your gaze.

He isn’t one to form connections, attachment never did serve the man well. Though, at the face of your arrival to the neighborhood, Gojo’s once paraded lifestyle now hints at the inevitable downfall. He’s suddenly frantic for your attention, yet shied away from his sprouts of self-doubt. He’s afraid to admit just how much he wants you, to have you around him at every waking moment.

For now, he resorts to the method he knows best, taking to his living room window to catch every rare appearance you’d make. Whether it be you walking down to the mailbox, discarding the next round of moving boxes, or simply stepping out to watch the sunset, Gojo sought to capture it all.

But today brings its own fruits of bliss, providing Gojo with the hand-delivered game of chance. It’s nothing out of the ordinary, you hoisting the next batch of trash out to the front lawn.

Yet, there’s something different in him, Gojo pinned to his favorite place amongst his living room window. Sure, he’s observing as you drag the next ensemble of boxes behind your heels, but that’s not what has his attention piqued.

He should be used to it by now, all the short outfits you’ve flaunted to the outside world. But nothing could compare to the pure lamb white tank and matching skirt adorning your curves. He can’t seem to take his eyes away from the cute pout breaks across your visage. 

A furrowed brow, lips fostering a glossy pout and puffy cheeks limp with fatigue all entice Gojo to lengths even he can’t comprehend. He can tell you need some guidance, someone to tell you where to go from there.

Gojo’s more inclined to stand to his feet now, strolling to his front door once again. The sweep of deja vu settles onto him is chilling, the same cycle of steps repeating themselves. Just like the day he’d recognized your presence, Gojo can’t do anything but approach you with careful steps.

He’s brought to the scene in the lewdest of ways—you bent over the growing batch of folded cardboard. It doesn’t help that his ear picks up on every feeble whimper that escapes from your mouth, the clear frustration written in your voice. He is undoubtedly without shame as his gaze graces your body, grinning at how your panties tease past the edge of your skirt.

You’re so cute like this, too caught up in your own little world to notice Gojo’s staggering build towering behind you. He could stay like this forever, watching as you continuously shift through the clutter.

As pure as it’s intended, sin never lurks too far when it comes to Gojo. His hands slip into his pockets without delay, stretching the fabric of his navy slacks to conceal the growing bulge. It’s not his fault your skirt falls so short of you, but he isn’t one to complain either. The sight only triggers that devious side of him, firing all sorts of thoughts to cloud his tainted brain.

Gojo knows he can’t get ahead of himself, not when he still has to maintain his fragile impression around you. All it takes for a single huff of air to crowd Gojo’s lungs for him to speak at last, the spiteful smirk embedded behind his words.

“Quite the mess you’ve got here. The recycling truck only comes once every other week, y’know.”

The bit of insight he offers is enough to pull your attention elsewhere, your head whipping around to meet his lidded regards.

“Oh, hi Gojo! I know, right?! It’s even more of a mess inside too!”

Gojo takes the chance to close the distance, leaning over your hunched form gradually. His head falls into a timely tilt, allowing him to breathe in the shift in nature befalling you. Suddenly, ripples of blinks overtake your eyelids, lips faltering to hold fast to the pretty pout. He seals your brash flusters with the soft hum of his voice, the warmth of his breath fanning across the tip of your nose.

“Well…aren’t you gonna ask me for help? I do remember saying I’d be here to give you an extra pair of hands for all your…problems.”

There’s a silence falling amongst you both, the eyes of you two falling into a blurred line. Gojo’d be lying if he said he didn’t succumb to you too, the exterior of smug pride crumbling with each second. Sure, Gojo has you stifled in your steps, forced to endure the sweltering heat of his stare—but he’s the one that suffers in the end. Waves of heat strum throughout his body, laying claim to the highs of his cheeks and ears alike. His chest lags in the slightest of breaths, the uneven pace coming to light.

His ears perk at the aimless whimpers spilling from your mouth, ensuring that your body shares in the same symptoms—uneased breaths, flares of heat, and uncertainty pitted deep within your belly. He wants to reach out, hoping his hand could bring you down from the fluttering gates of nirvana. It takes for the tiny squeak of your voice’s inquiry to break the fallen silence.

“Can you…help me fix the inside…please? I’d appreciate it so much!”

“ ‘Course I will! Just lead the way, beautiful!”

You offer Gojo a pleasant nod before turning from him, dainty hands clutching at your chest. Within a matter of moments, he’d so easily brought you to your knees. From his sly grin, his overwhelming allure, down to the very way he seems to keep a specific look for you, Gojo could just as easily have you wrapped around his finger should he say the words.

“Over there, I need the most help in the kitchen,” your hand pointing in the appropriate direction as you close the door behind him.

Gojo encounters your sights for a brief moment more, a toothy grin spreading itself thin as he explores your home. Finally, he has you to himself, free from any wandering eyes to be found along the block.

“It’s nice in here, Y/N. I see you like the finer things, just something else we have in common.”

“Thanks, but wait till everything’s in place, finish cleaning and arranging…it’s gonna be great!”

You pay Gojo one final glare of amusement, the teasing stares pulling you both towards the unkempt vast of the kitchen. There’s a certain set of cabinets that call your attention, the blanched wood doors wide in welcomes your gaze. Your finger points to the plates before you, recalling the details of Gojo’s task.

“Since you’re tall, can you put the plates up in the cabinet? I’ll put the pots and pans in the lower cabinets.”

A cheeky smile is all it takes for Gojo to oblige, breaking his looming stare to tend to his assignments. Though, as much as Gojo wants to help you out, he truly can’t. Within the placement of one plate, his focus finds means elsewhere, those blue eyes hinged on you beside him.

How could he carry on such a leisure task when he has you so close to him, the curve of your ass just hugging at the thighs of his pants. There’s so much to unfold and too much for him to ignore—the bend consuming your body revealing more than he deserves. The warmth of your skin pecks at his skin, a thrill of heat surfacing to your touch. 

You’re soft against him, brushing a silky plush donning the title of your skin. He just doesn’t get it, why must your skirt be so short teasing the whims of a man like himself? He wants to look away, savor the time he’s been given with you thoughtfully…

But damn it all when you dip forward to better your reach, the silhouette of your cunt sucking through the thin inseam of your black lace panties. For a moment—just a brief moment—Gojo’s blessed with the delicate curves of your clothed pussy. 

It’s tantalizing to him, pulling his mind to an unmatched euphoria. His mind is swift to flood with his lewd thoughts, hoping that one day he hopes to endure the forbidden sight of your cunt’s lips splitting around his cock.

“Oh fuck!” his inner thoughts coming to light. He’s swift to conceal the slip of his words with a cough, the deep draw straining his throat. It’s enough for you to jolt, bouncing back onto your feet to tend to Gojo.

“Gojo! Wait, I’ll get you a cup of wat—”

Before you can even think, the brash pads of Gojo’s hand lace your dainty fingers into his own. He pulls your hand to the plush pink curves of his lips, placing a lingering peck along your laxed knuckles. His free hand slips to fill the small of your back, pulling you to crash against the chest of his black sweater.

“Well, well well, look at you, racing around to help little ole’ me…just knew you were perfect fr’ me.”

His eyes flicker over you once more, a rush of thrill licking at his skin. The question he has is heavy, sits a little too heavy on his chest. That’s why he has to say it—to free himself of his one true desire.

“Let me take you out…tonight. I can show you around town, show you all my favorite spots and more.”

“A date? Already? We just met, Gojo…I don’t…”

A cast of hesitation settles onto you both, a tension so thick that neither of you could withdraw. Gravity condemns you to his side, body falling prey to Gojo’s allure. There’s something about the man that compels you, the saccharine tone of persuasion dripping from his voice. He could put you in a trance and you’d be at his every whim, that alone serving as your conclusion.

“Okay, pick me up around seven. I’m kinda tired of being surrounded by so many boxes and dust.”

Gojo presses a final kiss onto your knuckles before breaking away from you, an indescribable elation written across his features.  

“I promise you won’t regret it. I’ll make the night worth your while.”

With that, Gojo left from your side, unable to wipe the stupid grin from his face. A date with the woman of his dreams, the thought alone pulling nervous flutters from his heart.

Through a passing glance, he manages to catch a glimpse of the digital clock embedded in the stovetop: 4:30 pm.

From the moment he left your home and entered his own, ensuring your good favor was all that weighed heavy on Gojo’s mind. He simply had to win you over, knowing that you too shared some interest in him. 

It’s the first time in a long time that Gojo’s felt this way, endowed to someone other than himself. In Gojo’s eyes, to have you is to have all the riches in the world. He knows there’s something so different about you, something that sets his body aflame.

That’s why in the hours he has left to prepare for the impromptu date, he puts in all the effort to become the best version of himself. From grooming his closet for the finest outfit—stone gray slacks, a mauve silk button, and his favorite set of leather black loafers— picking up a bouquet of white roses for good measure, and rushing to arrange reservations at the nearest restaurant a few block away, Gojo knew he’d have to use all the tricks in his arsenal to eventually call you his one day.

By the time seven did set in, Gojo brought himself to stand right outside your door, wearing that stupid smile once more. The nerves have yet to settle beneath his fair skin, flairs of red ripping across his cheeks and ears alike. Before he can bring his finger to press the small button, deja vu befalls Gojo again.

He’s welcomed by the sight of you, dressed in an orange satin mini dress. His eyes hang upon every inch of you, the dress’ low cut neckline especially appealing to Gojo’s taste, coaxing the corners of his lips to tease with a smirk.

He hands you the bundle of florals carefully, allowing his fingers to graze along your own for a moment. Gojo lets his head fall into a tilt, plush lips of pink curving as he watches your expression bloom into a whimsical grim.

“Don’t you look perfect? The color suits you, Gorgeous.”

“Aw, why thank you! But first…tell me where we’re going…please?”

“Like I said, I wanna show you around. There’s a nice restaurant a few blocks from where we’re walking to, I think you’ll like it.” He lets his hand fall from the bouquet to brush along your waist, the mere weight of his touch drawing you to rest against his chest. The pinning force melds within his heart as he’s finally introduced to your body’s warmth, a subtle sigh escaping from his lungs.

“Let’s get goin’ I wanna spend as much time with you as I can…y’know, being a gentleman and all.”

The words Gojo utters aren’t so much spoken for your liking, as they are to him—a reminder of the persona he wears tonight. And for the night, he swore to maintain his composure, to keep his dangerous thoughts away in order to hit every mark with you.

A final glance of exchanges takes its place between you both before the journey begins, Gojo leading with you by his side.

“Gojo…who lives in that house?” you hand motioning towards the passing house. Gojo’s eyes fall into a squint, a scoff trailing from out his lips at the realization.

“Oh...that’s Toji Fushiguro. I heard he’s in his forties and lives alone in the house. But, he’s someone you should stay away from, especially when you’ve got me,” he teases, using all his efforts to distract you from Toji’s burning stare.

Your eyes linger on him for a moment longer, such imbues of green searing into your memory. He’s not one to forget, the man lounging upon his porch with a smoke in hand. His eyes are murky with an unseen objective, the lingering leer fading away with a salacious wink doused in trouble. A gasp escapes from your lips at his notion, intrigue bubbling high among your sentiments.

“He seems interesting, though…” the last review you give Toji before he’s out of sight.

It isn’t long before you reach the restaurant, the soft twinkle of lights meeting your eye. The quaint establishment holds no more than a few, the other patrons spread thin across the restaurant floor. You and Gojo found yourselves towards the back, a table free from the immediate presence of others. 

The tension between you both is one of a thickened atmosphere, both of you itching to solve the mystery of each other. Rather than ask Gojo your burning question, you wait an assured time without interruption, the opportunity presenting itself minutes after the waiter receives the orders of dinner.

You find yourself pulled towards Gojo, his speechlessness creating an aura of enticement for your favor. Your eyes suffer the weight of intrigue, eyelids heavy with an underlying taunt of lust. Your hands fold beneath your chin for support, the gradual silence coming to an end.

“Tell me Gojo, why are you single? You’re such a handsome man with a really smooth personality, it honestly shocks me that you are.”

Gojo’s hand rises from the white tablecloth, slender rubbing at the point of his chin. It’s a question he’s addressed but has yet to confront the clauses of such an inquiry. He knows the answer through and through but knows he’ll scare you—the woman he’s been waiting for— away. But he prays you’ll understand him, understand why he is the way he is and accept all that came with him. He gives you one wavering glance before replying, a hefty sigh guiding the spill of words.

“Why am I single?...it’s more than what you’d believe, Princess. I’m not all that…accepted, to put it shortly. And I can’t be with someone who doesn’t accept all of me, right?”

Eager to close the distance, Gojo pits himself inches from you, a lazy stare lurking across your placid visage. You’re eager for an answer, that much is enlightened to Gojo through the thick shroud of silence. He grants your burning question with another facer to be uncovered, the question rolling off his tongue with sinful ease.

“Can you accept all of me? All it takes is a date to know if you wanna put up with someone…so does that same ideal—Oh, look at that, I dropped my fork.”

You watch as Gojo sinks beneath his seat towards the burgundy carpet. All’s quiet for the seconds your date spends hidden underneath the table…all until the vibrations of your phone earn your distant attention. Bringing the call to your ear, your voice leads the conservation with a shushed giggle, your head tilting in a blissful delight.  

“Is there a reason you’re calling me from under the table, Gojo?”

“Of course there’s a reason, I want you to hear everything I have to say…”

The tips of Gojo’s digits brush along the prominent curve of your thigh. A heft of warmth follows his breath as he inches towards you, brimming your skin with a chilling lick of desire. It’s almost embarrassing for you to admit, the swirling flame crowding at the dormant bulb of your clit. There’s a prowling heat that consumes your cunt, the plunging weight wedged between your poor walls. A bare squeak rips from your lungs, only to fade beneath the barrage of Gojo’s speech.

“You asked why I’m single, it’s true that no woman has really accepted me…but there’s more to it. I’m a mess when it comes to love, I let lust run as high as my heart and no one has really kept up with me because of that. As for you, my pretty girl…you’re so cute, so perfect for me to ruin. From the moment we met, I just knew you were the woman of my dreams. There’s something hidden deep within you—and I wanna be the one to bring it out.”

“So then, you wanna–”

“I wanna lose myself in you. Touch you, kiss you, call you mine, I just want you so bad it hurts.”

You can’t comprehend how fast Gojo’s fingers sneak beneath your dress to tug at your panties. Then again, you can’t begin to comprehend how fast you’ve fallen at his pleas, your thighs breaking from the harsh clasp for his head to fill the space. It’s the anticipation that has you this wet, what has your skin inflamed with spry nerves, the thrill of Gojo indulging in your pussy within the company just surrounding the promiscuous atmosphere.

The plea laced behind his pants brought along a course of thirst throughout your body. You can’t wait for it, the soft heat of his tongue dragging through your folds, strides of spit melting with your nectar, the moans pried from the depths of his chest. The thin cloth suddenly grows to be an annoyance, your hips bucking to wedge the cinched waistband from its post.

“Please…please, let me do it. I just wanna make you feel good, just me and me only.

“Fuck, Gojo, I–”

At the sound of your voice, Gojo finally allows himself to falter in your stead, shedding the kind persona he’d donned for the night. His fingers tug the pesky panties of yours down your legs, the limp white cotton bunched at your ankles. His touch drifts further across your body, a gentle rattle against your skin forcing your thighs apart.

Gojo can’t resist it any longer, the vast of his palm breaking from your thigh. The tips of fingers trace the curves of your cunt’s lip in tease, parting the plushy mounds to reveal the ness awaiting him. The sticky unclasp echoes in his ears, a hiss of resistance cutting through the air.

He’s met by the salacious mess of your pussy, the puffy lips breaking from the sticky hold. It’s more than he expected, the glossy strands of your essence dripping from the hood of your clit. The patterns dresses your pussy in a delicate manner, fragile strands illuminating your folds. Yet what teases at that ache deep within his stomach was your slit, soapy flutterings gasping to be filled. The threads string across the silky sheets are diamondlike, glimmering even in the dimmest of light.  

“Look at how much of a mess you made fr’ me, Baby—fuck!— clit’s so damn cute under my fingers. Bet you wanna cum real bad…but not yet. Not until I play with you, alright?”

All you can do is whimper out your transgressions to Gojo, the cry of urgency muted by your cupping hand. He’s so gentle with his touch, the calloused pads of his fingers drifting along the glistening folds to reach your clit. He’s so gentle that it’s teasing, laying a fluttering trail to swirl about the pearl. Why, he’s so gentle that it's taunting, your hips reeling from his touch. Yet, all you earn is a huff from Gojo through the phone, his sloppy grip bracing your hip.

“Don’t do that, just gonna make you cum harder now, y’know.”

You don’t know it just yet, that side of Gojo that can alone uphold his honor. The side that keeps his word, ensuring that he’ll follow through on his part. The same principle applies to you all the same. It’s why he can bring his tongue to your frail slit, dragging that slippery ingraining stride through your folds—just to strike the raw bulb of your clit. The whimpers, gasps, and moans all fill Gojo’s ear, spitefully pawing at his ego. It fuels him to pursue further endeavors to test you.

“So pretty, Baby. Gonna let me kiss that pretty clit too, aren’t you?” his voice tapering across your roused skin. “Now relax, let me suck your clit, ‘kay?”

His words pull at your body’s temperament, releasing a wave of frigid heat to shroud your pussy. The plush mounds of his lips lay soft kisses against your clit, teasingly sealing the hood between each peck. At first, it isn’t noticeable, just the puffy seal of his lips enveloping the perked bud. 

The gradual pull of your clit that alerts you, the streamlined squelching suckles pinned on the raw nerves. He’s even managed to make a mess of you, returning spools of spit dripping from his pursed hold over your clit.

The slobbering unclasp of his lips chime through the call, the lewd symphony strumming through your lips. His fingers cup at your cunt, parted digits placing gentle pulsing squeezes along your clit. Gojo pulls back for a moment, hungered eyes taking in the beautiful fixture he’d made out of your pussy.

“Mhm, that’s it, good girl, relax fr’ me. I think I’m falling in love with your pussy—tastes so good.”

“Oh m-my God!! Fuck Gojo, y-you can’t say it like that!”!  

“Aww, but it’s the truth. Your pussy s’ good and fuck… twitching against my tongue like that. You’re so needy, Angel…gonna make you cum real soon.”

Just as he promised, the final clasp of his swollen lips brings about your downfall, the mind-shattering orgasm milking at your worth. A chain reaction breaks across your body, claiming your lungs in a breathless gasp. It’s heavy, the insufferable burden pulling the hull of your chest to the surface. Your legs know no bounds either, the innermost plush threatening to smother Gojo.

He repels himself from you before harm could arise, dragging the flat of his tongue along his plump lips. Pride boils at the forefront of Gojo’s mind as he returns to his seat, wearing a nonchalant smile in your presence. He knows what’s passing through that fuzzy mind of yours, the hues of lust and curiosity melding into one. The look of widened eyes, high eyebrows, and an agape mouth tell Gojo all he needs to know as he sets his phone down onto the white tablecloth: you’re curious.

The questions of what he can do to you fill up your mind, latent desires grooming at the surface of your skin. Gojo’s awakened something inside you, something that can’t quite be transcribed into words. It’s heat, a warmth so fierce that it grows with impatience. 

The longer you return his gaze, the heavier the flames weigh on your mind. It entraps your entire body in a trap of heat, the inescapable urge swirling deep within your shuddering tummy. Suddenly, a single demand falls from your lips without regret in sight.

“Gojo, I really…um…I really wanna go now.”

“Aww, but we haven’t even eaten yet. I guess we can—

“Take it to go? We can do all that at the reception table. So can we…go…now?”

Gojo falls back in his seat as he stares at you, hiding a growing grin behind with the single thought looming above.

He’s got you. Exactly where he wants you, a hot and rowdy mess falling before his very eyes.

In response to his goal being met, Gojo stands up straight from his spot on the chair. His hand falls from its hold as a makeshift shield, presenting both his beckoning call and grin to you.

“C’mon, let’s get you home. I’d hate to keep you waiting.”

Leading you back home was nothing short of thrilling to Gojo. He studies you with a watchful eye, how you dropped your walls for the likes of him. It’s not vulnerability in the slightest but a taste of a life he’s always sought for. And here you come, providing him an earnest peek at that softer, susceptible side of you. 

Your touch welcomes him, warms his heart to a point as he bears your dainty hands clinging to his sleeve. He’s exposed to this soft side of you by the soft nudge of your kisses, his cheek covered in trailing pecks as he struggles to pay for the night’s incomplete outing.

Gojo can’t help but fall prey to you, his heart set aflutter with skipping pangs. He finds himself returning your endearing favors, catching your lips in a kiss every so often. His touch vacates anything formal, fitted perfectly along your lower back to squeeze at the swell of your ass.

All the formalities Gojo should have maintained fell from his arsenal with every passing minute it takes to reach your home, the quaint house welcoming both your heavy hearts. He’s clinging to you, a hand pulsing at the plush of your waist and the other occupied with the bag of forgotten dinner.

“Do you…” Gojo begins, his smirked lips curling at the shell of your ear. “Need help with the keys?

His digits drift along the flushed skin of your forearm, lacing around your palm to aid in the envied endeavor.

“Just one last turn and…that’s the click. Now…push open that door if you don’t want the neighbors to see.”

Your body’s compelled to fall to Gojo’s words, entering through to the door with crazed haste. As the door falls shut, there’s a break in the tension, a moment for your mind to return to some state of coherency. Your first instinct is to walk, to separate for just a step. But it’s his swiftness you overlook, how quick he comes over to tower over you. 

The hull of Gojo’s chest harbors a heavy tune, scattered breaths melding through you. His arm travels across your hips, laxed fingers creating lazy pleats along the hem of your dress.

“No, no, no…I finally have you to myself, Pretty girl. Where do you think you’re goin’ ?”

Your eyes cower with obligation dotting the blurred hues of your eyes. You can’t refuse Gojo, not with the pulling attraction guiding your heart thus far. Especially when he towers above you like this, the heat of his encasing you whole. There’s almost a compelling force, something bringing you onto your toes to close the distance. Your lips just barely brush past his own, the puffy heat teasing you with an invite.

“I’m…—!”

Gojo’s lips meet your own, the intoxicating smother of heat exhausting remnants of your energy. It’s intoxicating, how fixed you’ve become to his touch. There isn’t a moment to falter. Your lips cling to his own, such supple curves desperate to match the careful weaves he guides you through.

Languid trudges usher you and Gojo to the living room, smothered bodies collapsing onto the black leather cushions. He pulls you to warm his lap, hands steady along your hips. He’s so insistent to close any distance that keeps you both apart. It’s why his hands are sent clutch at your dress, tugging at the silk to pull right over your head.

Clothes continue to sprinkle across the room, piles upon piles falling to the abyss surrounding the lucid scene. His lips return to adorn your body, mindless pecks falling into the crook of your neck. His kisses bring about a rouse beneath your skin, each press of his lips earning a rush of blood to greet him. The trails of his affections fall prey to the valley of your chest.

Truth be told, he’s been dying for this, to touch you in ways only he could. His digits cup at the delicate swells of your tits, entrapping the hardened peaks in between.

“You’re so beautiful, Baby. So fucking beautiful.”

His eyes refuse to falter from yours, clinging to the sight of ecstasy as his lips seals your nipple away with the expanse of his mouth. A moan rips from Gojo’s chest, deeming him to have a senseless sense of self. Control isn’t something attainable in his current state, the man drunk off you. 

Everything about you is heavenly, your warmth, your company, the pretty whimpers you make as Gojo’s tongue whisks around the puffy peaks lazily. He’s squeezing your tits softly, serving as his reminder of just how explicit everything’s become.

It’s not until you find yourself relaxing in his hold that you realize just how much you do to Gojo, bare lips of your cunt splitting around something hard.

“You’re so hard, ‘Toru. Does it hurt?”

“Mhm,” he hums, breaking away from the slobbering mess he’s made of your tits. “I really wanna feel those lips ‘round me, can you do that for me? Please?”

You offer him an enthusiastic nod, sinking onto your knees before his trembling thighs. The plush espresso carpet cradles the curve of your knees as you adjust, placing your lithe fingers along his abre thigh. But it’s the sight before you that stirs the brew of butterflies deep within your belly, coaxing a piercing shock to widen your hazy eyes.

Gojo’s big. Not just in his towering stature but right between his legs all the same. Your eyes are welcomed by the pretty plush of his cock, the tanned fat sitting pretty against his thigh with miserable want. The girthy shaft blooms with inflamed hues of green and blue. The thickest of veins are free from such imbues, too roused to don any single tint. Your eyes trail to the head of his cock, greeted by the bullying fury of reds. The tip weeps an uncontrolled sob of greed, the blushed adorning a smear ring of his precum.

Your lips falter at the scene, a pool of spit budding just beyond sight. Gojo’s hand cups the back of your neck, rattling a gentle pace of encouragement to soothe your nerves. It’s kind encouragement, his efforts allowing for your lips to part for his girth. A gentle kiss lays upon his slit, staining the pout in his essence. The throbbing pulse of his cock is hot against your lips, beckoning you to place yet another peck.

Your mouths with every bit to be covered, gradually slipping the fat head to sit snug between your suckling lips. It’s soft, pulling at the mere surface of the swelled tip. Your tongue even peeks for a moment, wavering along the underside all too teasingly in faint swipes. Gojo winces at the sensation, tingling with a striking thrill. His fingers find work at the nape of your neck once more, playing an uncoordinated tune upon your skin.

“You…You know what to do, take it all in your mouth fr’ me, Baby.”

Mindlessly, you lose to his imminent demand, your eyes suffering under the influencing weight. Your head strums along Gojo’s length without care, the throbbing head pecking at the back of your throat. The sensation’s nothing short of brutal, brash strikes threatening to pursue deeper lengths. Your ears help ease what coherency remains, hinged on the pretty crumbling moans ripping from his chest.

Gojo’s hot-blooded spree of lust carried you through the consistent hollows of your lungs, begging for just a lick of air. He’s desperate for it, to use your poor mouth like his favorite toy— so warm, wet and even tighter than his fist could ever begin to achieve.

But little does Gojo know, it’s more of a strain on you than him.

It’s a struggle, a harsh journey to endure to please Gojo. He’s far from the concept of silence, but there’s more dying to fly off his chest. He’s feeling it, courtesy of his jutting hips reckoning to reach the plump cling of your lips. The pitiful whimpers tell you all that’s known about his crumbling state. You want to deliver that taste of irresistible heaven to him.

Your hands migrate from the loose casing formed around his cock to his thighs, the pads of your digits settling into place. The thoughts swirl at the forefront of your mind. It had to be thoughtless, free of any worry, care, or restraint. If you faltered for even a moment, the teasing would be ripped right from the hands of Gojo.

You pull your lips to rest at the fat head of his cock, head tilting to greet his drowsy eyes. He’s high off his anticipation. Sweat works across his body, bringing the white locks of his hair to stick to his forehead. But more attaches onto Gojo’s fleeting persona, the glints of his own vulnerability coming to light. It’s present in how he looks at you, lust melded with the forbidden glints of genuine peeking through the haze. A chilling sight at first glance, a forced endeavor to endure at his whim.

His hands cup at the chub of your cheeks as an unknown comfort, his thumbs swiping at the polished highs with a look of intrigue. His tongue curls with a lax pull, putting the ramble of words to flood the air.

“W-why are you so…fucking pretty?... Hm? Can’t even look at me straight b-but you look s’ perfect just like this.”

A muffled moan vibrates about the inflamed crown from your throat, barely processing the praise to rattle off Gojo’s tongue. Your mind’s numb to it, the brisk descent of your lips down Gojo’s cock. Bubbly foams of spit dribbles from the corners of your mouth, only to be brushed away by the lewd gurgle brewing in your throat.

 It’s sloppy and messy, taking all of him in one swift notion. And you know it’s working, your eyes peering up at Gojo Through the thick gather of your lashes. He’s singing a song so passionate it simply can’t be hidden, head nicked between his shoulder blades with the ball of his adam’s apple sent awry.

Gojo doesn’t mean to be mean, ripping his cock from your jaw destructively. He’s sure you aren’t aware of all you’ve done to him in a matter of seconds, your tongue nipping at the heavy bloat of his balls. A few moments longer and he’s sure you would’ve milked him of all he’s had. He hopes you’ll appreciate it as an apology, his strong arms wrapping around your waist. 

He pulls you onto his lap, digits latching onto your chin once more. He doesn’t take a second to acknowledge your ruined state, crashing his lips against your own. It’s heavy, the press so rich it’s almost dizzying. His tongue curls along with yours, draping the flat laggardly. That’s all he does before breaking from your lips, falling back onto the couch’s plush backing.

“S-Shit…did such a good job…I want you—really fucking want you— to use me, ride me, fuck that pretty lil’ pussy on me!”

“O-Okay…just let me do it.”

A small hand disappears between the clash of bodies, in your palm holds the head of Gojo’s cock. He’s wet, slick with the fruit of your labor. It’s just enough to press the slit at your own, your hips lifting to a degree. Timing is all you need, the time to raise your hips just enough to prepare, fueling the frantic sink onto his cock.

Yet, you couldn’t have really prepared for Gojo, not with how much harder he’s become with you in his grasp. His cock’s brimmed with spry nerves, prickling with a fiery heat. It’s that same heat that keeps your walls from fluttering, sending the rich burn to nip at your poor entrance.

“OhmyGod, you’re so—”

“B-Big? I know, it’s all for you, baby…”

Your hips are caught in a bind, stubborn to move from their cocooning state. It takes for gentle rocks of Gojo’s hips to relax you, your hips rising voluntarily. He’s easing those walls of yours to a point, pushing past your sweet spot dumbly. You almost give him the full right to control in those moments, your body growing limp in his hold.

Right until you start to question it, the privilege to ruin your date by your means. He’s right there for the taking. It’s because of those very ponderings that you can sit high, swiveling about the head of Gojo’s cock before delivering a shattering pry at his building high. You can handle yourself this time, smothering your clit in the hairs surrounding his base. Your strides hold fast along his length, your pussy enveloping the entirety of his cock. Whiffs of insecurity whisk through your mind, unsure if Gojo would succumb to the lust as quickly as you did—only for you to discover the sweetest sight known to man.

Gojo’s brought himself to a whimpering shell of himself, mind numb off the slobbery squeeze of your walls. It’s so good to his poor, ruined mind, drunk off the bliss of your pussy. Spit spills from his mouth and glosses his lips, eyes glassy by the burning onslaught of tears—he’s a wreck underneath you. He’s finally got you, putting the effort to be used as some boy toy. He can’t take it, Gojo’s mind being beyond comprehension.

You take him so well, granting his sullied tip to nudge at your precious cervix. He deems himself blessed in the moment too, studying the pleasure trap itself beneath your features. Your lips fall from their pursed build, eyes rolled back into your skull, and hips set at a senseless pace. Why it’s so good, Gojo can’t believe it, freeing himself from the binds of his carnal lust.

“Shit, you’re gonna make me cum like that, Angel—and I don’t want that yet.”

Gojo’s brute strength comes to play as he takes hold of the reins, using her sheer force to pin you beneath his body. He settles onto his haunches, pulling you that much closer to close the distance. He doesn’t, guiding your legs to fold against your chest. He’s focused on your behalf, eyes queued on his bucking hips.

“B-But I’m gonna fuck you now, kay? Wanna make you feel good too, cover my cock with your pretty cum.”

The head of his cock pushes into you, splitting the lips of your cunt in an open kiss. He’s fitting inside you with such vivid ease, his cock almost sitting homely in your heat. The thick head kisses your leaving his shaft to curve at your sweet spot explicitly. He stretches you just right, fills you to the hilt, and the pulsing throbs that twitch inside you are nothing short of lewd.

With a few dips of his cock, Gojo could’ve made you cum just like that…but you’ve come to know that he won’t.

Gojo’s hips snap with no prevail, sending his cock to plunge so deep inside you. He’s hitting your cervix on every drive of his hips, smothering the perked nerves in a mess of fluttering pecks. He prefers it this way, pitting himself to the brim of your pussy that you have no choice but to cry out, his name falling from your lips.

He’s unforgiving when he’s like this, bringing forth the clash of skin echoing around the room. Gojo’s feverish in such nature, desperate to savory your pussy and desperate to cum. It’s more or less a reward for him, witnessing you handle all he’s giving. He can bury himself as much as you would allow, your walls sending his cock to. Each reel of his hips pulls the glossy sheens of your essence to paint his shaft

There’s much to take in but not a coherent thought in sight to do such bidding. From his chest smothered against your own, breath fanning—it’s simply too much for you to endure. The friction doesn’t offer you much either, the melds of heat running your body hot and throwing your mind into a flushed haze.

Gojo’s the one to blame, the thick of his fat cock rummaging tempered drags along your walls. It’s the hot and gummy fat bullying your walls that trap you in a trance, his cock rendering you a dumb mess of drool and spilled tears.

“G-Gojo…wait! It’s so–no, it’s too much! Jus’ slow down—”

Gojo’s hand peels from your thigh, his palm curved to the plush of your tummy. The tips of his fingers sit deep upon you, his soothing touch massaging your skin.

“It’s going too deep? Oh pretty girl, I can go, so, so much deeper than this. So deep that all you’ll know is me, baby.”

But it’s unbeknownst to Gojo how much he’s ruined you. He’s caught up in the sight of you so distraught and needy that he doesn’t know how close you are to your high. It’s hinged on so close that all it does take for you to reach that high is the pretty head of his cock to kiss at your cervix, the kiss of reassurance allowing for you to crumble.

Your spine arches from the dented cushions, hands fighting for solid grounding. Patches of stars coat your vision, courtesy of. Violent waves of exhaustion all strike your body at once, pulling what energy was left behind. You’re caught in a bind, the firm hold looming over your limp physique until it breaks at the sound of Gojo’s voice.

“That’s it, let everyone know that you’re all mine, Angel. You’re all mine, and I swear to fuck I’m not letting you go,” the oath rolling off his tongue. Gojo can’t help himself, refusing to quit amidst your high. His hips tilt to better his reach against your sweet spot, riding through the course of your orgasm.

A sharp seethe of air cuts through Gojo’s lips, pity boiling at the forefront of his mind. He knows it’s too much for you, watching your body attempt to flee. His eyes settle on your tits, bouncing with each flinch consuming you. He wants to say it, ask for your fleeting patience as his own orgasm hints at its arrival. But bless his foolish heart, he’s so drunk off your drooling pussy that words come out harsher than he means.

“Ah, don’t run from me, just take it…take every inch of me.”

A longing whimper of defeat wails off your chest. He’s fucking you to undiscovered lengths in your body, so far gone that babbles serve as your conversings. That same crowding influence seeps into your limp tongue. There’s no control in what you can say or do, your hands resting along the ridges of his flexed abs. Even your legs lose the urge to resist, lacing around Gojo’s waist to push him deeper than he’s even been.

“Please, c-cum inside me, Gojo. Please cum inside my pretty pussy, ‘Toru, please!”

“Oh Y/N, that’s so dirty of y-you…wait—fuck!—”

The threads of reality snap in Gojo’s mind at the sound of your pleading voice, a violent reckoning crashing over him. The spill of tension that sits in the fat bloat of his balls ruins you, thick ropes of a creamy white flushing your walls white.

Gojo’s lost all strength to carry on, his impoverished body collapsing onto yours. A dizzy head and heaving chest is a combination he’s used to but tonight holds a different story. Words can’t be found to describe the state he’s entered. He’s astute, taking everything in as his hands cling to your waist. His thumbs draw mindless circles into your skin, Gojo’s silent form of apology.

It’s a strange instinct for him, the sudden urge to shower you in his care. His mind’s racing with thoughts, how to show his intentions for you. It’s not in his character but god did he was To soothe you with kisses, rub all the sores and knicks he’d inflict, just to lay next to you in idle conversation was all he wanted at the moment. The effort’s worth it in his eyes.

So he decides to try his hand at it, pulling his chest from yours. His hands lay flat beside your head, closing the distance between you both with a smirk.

“Lemme clean you up.”

With a quick peck of his lips, Gojo turns his attention between his legs. His eyes fall shut as he pulls out from your cunt with a hitching breath. But it’s the sight that has him whimpering, his cock glistening with slick and spattered patterns of white.

Slotting himself between your legs, Gojo presses his cheek along your inner thigh, hands keeping your limbs apart.

His eyes return to the timeless sight of your slit, dribbling with his cum. He’s apprehensive about it for the moment, admiring the rare scene with doting hues. Yet as his tongue finally curls up against your folds, all thought suspends from him.

He can’t help but to be lazy, the flat of his tongue lapping at the puffy sheets of flesh. Each drop of your essence is caught by Gojo’s ministrations, relishing in your taste.

He’s guided to the hood of your clit, the bud perked twitching in regards. The tip of his slicked muscles tightens upon the sticky contact , swirling around the pearl gently. Gojo’s digits gravitate to your pussy, catching the hood of your clit in a flurry of strokes. He couldn’t care less about his cum pooling from your entrance, too enthralled with the unsteady gasps trapping your lungs.

“G-Gojo, wait! It’s t-too much!”

“Told you I love this cute clit of yours. Just give me one more, please?”

Feverish nods spill from you, the heft of the impending orgasm reaching like no other. It’s passing you in waves, the tingling numbness claiming the soles of your feet. Your legs fold to meet your chest rapidly, the knot in your lower back unraveling at godforsaken heights.

Gojo’s humming a giddy tune as he presses his lips to your quivering clit. He watches as your body thrashes about the sunken cushions, a prideful glint illuminating his eyes.

“Mhm, that’s my girl. ‘M so proud of you!”

Gojo pulls from your side for the moment, leaving the couch to sort through the vast piles of discarded clothes. He returns with his briefs and wrinkled button-down in tow. The dress shirt drapes across your body as he pulls you to your feet, his arms laced around your waist.

“C’mon, let’s go get comfortable,” he coos, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck. The two of you stroll up the stairs, passing through the first right door to enter the moonlit bedroom. The duvet’s tint of blue beckons you and Gojo to grow closer. He leads you to the bed, collapsing beside you with sleep itching on the brain.

As he settles at your side, Gojo’s eyes scan about your room. He’s greeted by the blanched white walls, a few paintings that hang—the bare coverings over your windows. A streak of blush surfaces at the highs of his cheeks, turning to meet your languid sights.

“Y’know, you have to buy some blinds, Princess. It’s especially dangerous at night, people can be so nosy.”

“Is that right?” you giggle, staring at Gojo through your lashes. You can’t help but admire his beauty, how the faint light of the moon kisses his fair skin and white hair. Even the way he looks at you holds radiance, his eyes of blue holding the purest glow you’ve ever seen.

Gojo doesn’t bother to keep his distance, bringing his body to cocoon your own. His hand catches yours in a hold, paired with the gentle pecks riddled across your cheeks.

“Promise to take you out on a real date tomorrow. We can do everything, walk around town, go to a different restaurant–”

“What’re you doing, Gojo?” the question calling about reflective silence.

He lets your inquiry bake on his mind for a while, keeping his fingers intertwined with your own. Gojo knows exactly what you mean. Promising another date, even just being in the same bed as you for this long was foreign. But with you—for you— he’s inclined to do anything that’ll keep you around.

He pays you one final glance before replying, a small grin teasing the corners of his lips.

“Trying something new.”

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[factual-fantasy]

(post in question) @elegysonnet

Thank you! None of my ideas are really solid yet.. but I can explain the reasoning behind their designs and tell you a bit of the back stories that I've got so far! :}} (prepare for a WALL of text-YOU ASKED FOR IT--)

First, Jevil. I pictured my Jevil being locked away in a cell for many many years. Like I think canon Jevil was. The wear and tear you see on his clothes is just wear that developed overtime from being in that cell. I might update his old outfit later.. but so far the torn gloves, missing bell and worn shoe are from the years of being locked away. Now eventually he is able to break out of his cell and escape into the multiverse. I'm not sure how, but thinking its gonna have to do with mirrors. He probably wanted to go back to his AU, but if he did he'd just wind up right back in that cell. So he.. left. And just kind'a roams the multiverse now, looking for a new home I guess.

Now during his travels he was able to find bits of clothing to replace/repair his old outfit. Replacing his shirt, finding a new cape, cutting out a corner to patch his new shirt- Finding a cheap Christmas bell to replace his old one. Using standard bandages to patch his shoe- cutting a square out of the overalls to fit his tail and patch his torn hat- <XDD stuff like that.

Now turning to Grillby.. My Grillby's AU was suddenly destroyed. And Jevil saved him from being destroyed along with it. But Grillby isn't exactly grateful.. rather he's overcome with grief over the loss of his world and family, and is actually angry with Jevil for having saved him. He would have rather just been extinguished along side his wife and daughter..

Because of this emotional turmoil, Grillby tuned blue and stayed blue. (See this post for my Grillby color headcanons-) I drew him in his bartender outfit but that wont stick. He ends up wearing what ever trash clothes he can find. His uniform is the last existing thing from his AU. And he dare not let his emotional instability burn it up. So he keeps it folded up neatly in his backpack and just tosses the backpack aside when he gets upset enough to start burning things uncontrollably..

Now for the creepy one, Spamton! He comes from an AU where things function a bit differently then our usual Deltarune. One of the big differences is the acid in the queens castle is blue instead of green. And yes! I did go with the acid lake theory :00-- but instead shrinking when falling into the acid.. my Spamton just kind'a.. fell apart. Its like the structural integrity of his body just collapsed. He kind'a got Gastered- The outer layer of his face and hands got so dry that huge splits formed all over his face and knuckles. His teeth got stuck together and became one big glob of hard mass. His hair melted together, his pants and shirt became part of him.. Its pretty yucky. He was in so much pain and he didn't know what to do.. Well, that's when Jevil showed up.

I'm thinking that taking Spamton outside of his AU didn't eliminate his pain.. rather.. being away from his world effected his body and.. changed his pain. Changed how it hurts or where it hurts. In a way, Spamton is in "less pain" when he's outside of his AU, because the pain is different and more.. tolerable..? Somewhat.?? So he chose to leave his AU and stay with Jevil. Its not like he was leaving anything behind.. the people in his AU treated him horribly. As they traveled, they got a cloak and some goggles/glasses for him. Spamton also struggled with motor function in his hands. like Gaster.. So Jevil wrapped them in bandages to keep them together and help them move more coherently.

Also Grillby kind'a envy's Spamton for having an AU to freely return to. And thinks that despite the pain and struggles, he should return. He still has the opportunity to make a life for himself there. But you cant really blame Spamton for following the only person who has ever shown him kindness and changed his blinding pain into something else..

Then there's Goner kid. I'm thinking that she is from an AU where she fell into the core perhaps? But she's not a part of Gaster. She doesn't have anything that ties herself to him. She's just, out there. All alone..

Jevil finds her and feels sorry for her.. so he helps her to get back to her AU. Only to discover that another version of her already exists and took her place. In order to bring her back to her world, you would have to destroy her other self.. But her other self is a person too.. someone who can love, who can think, its a person. Jevil wont kill her and Goner kid doesn't want him too. But she's still heart broken.

Her entire identity was stolen. She has nothing left to her name.. not ever her name. Its not hers anymore. So to cheer her up Jevil gives her a new name. One completely unique to her. Goner kid smiles, and decides to follow Jevil where ever he goes. She cant have her old life or name back, but she can live a new life, with her new name and new best friend. (I might reveal that name in a future comic👀👀)

Eventually during their travels they come across an AU where Alphys made robot arms for Monster Kid. Now MK is like a teenager in this AU so he doesn't need the other arm models that Alphys built for him. So she simply gives a pair of little arms to Goner kid! The pink bow was also a gift from Jevil so there's that XD-

Now River person.. I haven't really been able to flesh her out too much actually. But I'm thinking that River person is in a similar situation to Goner kid and Grillby. She cant go back to her AU for some reason and is heart broken. Maybe it was destroyed like Grillby's was? I imagine that she's not mad at Jevil for saving her though. And I don't think she'd be grieving her life like Grillby is. More of.. she's grieving for.. everyone else's life?? She would take people on trips down the river and hear about their life and stories. Their hopes and dreams.. Hear about what the children wanted to be when they grew up. Only to have all that snuffed out. Gone. Yet she remains? Why her? She feels that compared to the others from her world.. She was simple. Was of less value then those that she spoke to. She feels like someone, anyone should have been saved in her place. Maybe survivors guilt would be a good way to put it?

But she's not angry with Jevil for saving her. Just.. hollow. Conflicted.. appreciative..? But still conflicted-

ANYWAYS, wall of text over XDD I hope you enjoyed reading all of that and I answered all of your burning questions. :}} Feel free to send more!

[kimis-gloves]

warnings: SMUT! alot of smut, like alot. basically anything you might imagine is in this

everything under the cut is NOT for minors!!

max :

- tries to hide his possessiveness but once he learns how much you enjoy how he acts when jealous, he decides that he’ll be a-lot less nonchalant about making sure the paddock knows you belong to him. hell do this by leaving hickeys and bruises all over your body when its just you two alone together, he enjoys seeing the purple and red marks form and grow darker as the hours go by and seeing how your face flushes with embarrassment when people notice them or when they’re visible in pictures.

- SIZEKINK!!!!!! god, max loves how much bigger he is than you, how one of his hands perfectly wraps around your neck with ease. this also means his cock stretches you out so much it leaves you feeling like you’ve been ripped in half. he loves the way your eyes glisten and sparkle as his large and strong figure hovers over you, cock deep in your fucked-out throat. it makes him feel so unbelievably powerful when he can manhandle you as if you were just a doll.

- ^ following that, he absolutely adores the way you cling onto him whether it be while you both are walking around or laid up close together in bed. he loves how little room you take up compared to him and he feels a desire to protect you with all he has. hell wrap you into his arm while holding the back of your head with the other. its moments like these which he feels most genuine with you.

charles:

- will spoil the everliving shit out of you. he loves the way you try to refuse and smile at the gifts and gestures but he knows deep down its more than you could ever ask from him. he loves to show you off as his partner and absolutely worships you as his. he could never look at another person the way he looks at you. nobody could ever compare to your beautiful essence. when he’s with you he feels like he’s won everything there is to win in life, you’re his greatest prize and he would give up the world to make you happy.

- he’s the type to wait until marriage, but oh boy its so unbelievably worth it. you learn throughout your relationship the things that he wants to try and well it doesn’t take too long after your honeymoon for you both to be fucking like rabid rabbits. you’re making frequent trips to your local sex toy shop as he loves the way your body (and his) reacts to new sensations and experiences

- he absolutely fucking loves being dominated. he will beg you for hours to be touched, when you’re away from each other he sends you pictures and videos of himself begging for your help with cumming. he wants to be bitched out until he cries, he wants to be your pathetic cum whore and will do anything to please who he belongs to. he will beg you to sit on his face and let him eat you out until you cant form a coherent sentence, and then proceed to fuck your brains out even more because he loves to watch his cum trickle out of your pussy.

oscar:

- a shy boy, he isn’t very open about how dirty and filthy his thoughts can be as he wants to keep a considerable reputation for himself but the closer you get to him the more you find out how badly he wants you to absolutely ruin his body with pleasure. he’s open to anything and everything. he loves it all, he will never complain about anything you do to him as he sees his purpose is to please you and make you happy. while under no hesitation he will be your bitch, he enjoys corrupting your mind and making you a total mess of yourself. he knows exactly what to say, where to touch, how to fuck, absolutely everything about your body he has memorized as well as he knows how to drive.

- when he feels dominant, he has no intent of holding back. he will fuck the life out of you for 13 hours straight, because 12 isn’t nearly enough for him. he isn’t satisfied until he’s made you cum however many times he feels like it. you being the tease you are, on nights where you wear particular clothes or act in certain ways with the intent of doing this to yourself, you may end up cumming up to 30 times that night, or maybe not even at all. it all depends on his mood and what he thinks you deserve.

- after you experience the wrath of him, he is the most soft and gentle lover towards you. the second you give off an energy or use your safe word, he will stop everything he does and asks what the problem is and what you need in that moment. he will do absolutely anything for you. he would more than happily carry you to a warm and relaxing bath, if you request him to leave he will do just that but otherwise he will be sitting with you, hell offer to gentle wash your body and lovingly scrub & massage your hair with your favourite products. he will cook for you or order whatever food you desire and will do absolutely everything it takes to ensure you’re taken care of and as happy as can be.

lando:

- you never know what to expect from Lando. some days he’s going to cling onto you like your baby and need to be held and kisses every second of the day, but other times he has no problem bending you over any and every surface and taking away every one of your abilities to function. on the days he spends wanting every ounce of your attention, he will genuinely do whatever it takes whether its creeping up behind you while you’re cooking or working. kissing your neck and touching your body in a seductive and teasing manner, or actively pulling you away from whatever task it is you’re doing and fucking you ruthlessly right there and then. he enjoys the way your body reacts to him, its almost as if you both need each other to function.

- one of his favourite things to do during a race weekend is to send you dirty texts throughout the day, whether its during a meeting, in the garage or walking throughout the paddock. he loves the way you instantly will send him either a picture of how much his words affect you, or you try for the entire day to get a moment with him alone to show you how desperately you need him to act on the things he was saying in the texts. he knows your body is his and his only and its so incredibly hot to him how much control he has over you.

- much like max, he also has a sizekink. he just absolutely fucking adores the way he hovers over you, or the way his hands take up most of the surface area of your ass. he loves abusing and stretching out all of your tight holes. it leaves him in absolute shock the way your insides clench around this thick cock, theres no other feeling than that. when he has a hard or bad day, all he can think about is going home and creating a destructive mess out of you. he loathes about the way your body moves on his, the lucrative sounds that come our of your pathetic mouth and how he wants to muffle them either with his thick fingers or his cock.

A/N: AAAAAAA OMG! i hope u guys enjoy these!! i tried so so hard as this is my first time writing content for formula one!! please leave any feedback you desire!!

[thesublemon]

best picture

For the first time in a long time, I watched all of the movies nominated for Best Picture at the Oscars this year. Partly on a whim, partly for a piece I’ve been working on for a while about what is going wrong in contemporary artmarking. I cannot say that the experience made me feel any better or worse about contemporary movies than I already felt, which was pretty bad. But sometimes to write about a hot stove, you gotta put your hand on one. So. The nominees for coldest stove are:

Poor Things. Did not like enough to finish. I always want to like something that is making an effort at originality, strangeness, or style. Unfortunately, the execution of those things in this movie felt somehow dull and thin. Hard to explain how. Maybe the movie’s motif of things mashed together (baby-woman, duck-dog, etc) is representative. People have been mashing things together since griffins, medleys, Avatar the Last Airbender’s animals, Nickelodeon’s Catdog, etc. Thing + thing is elementary-level weird. And while there’s nothing wrong with a simple, or well-worn premise, there is a greater burden on an artist to do something interesting with it, if they go that route. And Poor Things does not. Its themes are obvious and belabored (the difficulty of self-actualization in a world that violently infantilizes you) and do not elevate the premise. There’s a fine line between the archetypal and the hackish, and this movie falls on the wrong side of it. It made me miss Crimes of the Future (2022), a recent Cronenberg that was authentically original and strange, with the execution to match.

Anatomy of a Fall. Solid, but not stunning. The baseline level of what a ‘good’ movie should be. It was written coherently and economically, despite its length. It told a story that drew you along. I wanted to know what happened, which is the least you can ask from storytelling. It had some compelling scenes that required a command of character and drama to write—particularly the big argument scene. The cinematography was not interesting, but it was not annoying either. It did its job. This was not, however, a transcendent movie.

Oppenheimer. Did not like enough to finish. But later forced myself to, just so no one could accuse me of not knowing what I was talking about when I said I disliked it. I felt like I was being pranked. The Marvel idea of what a prestige biopic should be. Like Poor Things, it telegraphed its artsiness and themes and has raked in accolades for its trouble. But obviousness is not the same as goodness and this movie is not good. The imagery is painfully literal. A character mentions something? Cut to a shot of it! No irony or nuance added by such images—just the artistry of a book report. The dialogue pathologically tells instead of shows. It constantly, cutely references things you might have heard of, the kind of desperate audience fellation you see in soulless franchise movies. Which is a particularly jarring choice given the movie’s subject matter. ‘Why didn’t you get Einstein for the Manhattan project’ Strauss asks, as if he’s saying ‘Why didn’t you get Superman for the Avengers?’ If any of this referentiality was an attempt to say something about mythologization, it failed—badly. The movie is stuffed with famous and talented actors, but it might as well not have been, given how fake every word out of their mouths sounded. Every scene felt like it had been written to sound good in a trailer, rather than to tell a damn story. All climax and no cattle.

Barbie. Did not like enough to finish. It had slightly more solidity in its execution than I was afraid it would have, so I will give it that. If people want this to be their entertainment I will let them have it. But if they want this to be their high cinema I will have to kill myself. Barbie being on this list reminds me of the midcentury decades of annual movie musical nominations for Best Picture. Sometimes deservingly. Other times, less so. The Music Man is great, but it’s not better than 8 1/2  or The Great Escape, neither of which were nominated in 1963. Musicals tend to appeal to more popular emotions, which ticket-buyers and award-givers tend to like, and critics tend to dislike. I remember how much Pauline Kael and Joan Didion hated The Sound of Music (which won in 1966), and have to ask myself if in twenty years I’ll think of my reaction to Barbie the same way that I think of those reviews: justified, but perhaps beside the point of other merits. Thing is. Say what you want about musicals, but that genre was alive back then. It was vital. Bursting with creativity. For all Kael’s bile, even she acknowledged that The Sound of Music was “well done for what it is.” [1] Contemporary cinema lacks such vitality, and Barbie is laden with symptoms of the malaise. It repeatedly falls back on references to past aesthetic successes (2001: A Space Odyssey, Singin’ in the Rain, etc) in order to have aesthetic heft. It has a car commercial in the middle. It’s about a toy from 60 years ago and politics from 10 years ago. It tries to wring some energy and meaning from all of that but not enough to cover the stench of death. I’d prefer an old musical any day.

American Fiction. Was okay. It tried to be clever about politics, but ended up being clomping about politics. At the end of the day, it just wasn’t any more interesting than any other ‘intellectual has a mid-life crisis’ story, even with the ‘twist’ of it being from a black American perspective. Even with it being somewhat self-aware of this. But it could have been a worse mid-life crisis story. The cinematography was terrible. It was shot like a sitcom. Much of the dialogue was sitcom-y too. I liked the soundtrack, what I could hear of it. The attempts at style and meta (the characters coming to life, the multiple endings) felt underdeveloped. Mostly because they were only used a couple times. In all, it felt like a first draft of a potentially more interesting movie. 

The Zone of Interest.Wanted to like it more than I did. Unfortunately, you get the point within about five minutes. If you’ve seen the promotional image of the people in the garden, backgrounded by the walls of Auschwitz, then you’ve already seen the movie. Which means that all the rest of the movie ends up feeling like pretentious excess instead of moving elaboration. It seemed very aware of itself as an Important Movie and rested on those laurels, cinematically speaking, in a frustrating way. It reminded me of video art. I felt like I had stepped through a black velvet drape into the side room of a gallery, wondering at what point the video started over. And video art has its place, but it is a different medium. Moreover video art at its best, like a movie at its best, takes only the time it needs to say what it needs to say. 

Past Lives. I’m a human being, and I respond to romance. I appreciate the pathos of sweet yearning and missed chances. And I understand how the romance in this movie is a synecdoche for ambivalent feelings about many kinds of life choices, particularly the choice to be an immigrant and choose one culture over another. The immigrant experience framing literalizes the way any choice can make one foreign to a past version of oneself, or the people one used to know, even if in another sense one is still the same person. So, I appreciate the emotional core of what (I believe) this movie was going for, and do think it succeeded in some respects. And yet…I was very irritated by most of its artistic choices. I found the three principal characters bland and therefore difficult to care about, sketched with only basic traits besides things like Striving and Being In Love. Why care who they’d be in another life if they have no personalities in this one? It’s fine to make characters symbols instead of humans if the symbolic tapestry of a movie is interesting and rich, but the symbolic tapestry of this movie was quite simple and straightforward. Not that that last sentence even matters much, since the movie clearly wanted you to feel for the characters as human beings, not just symbols. Visually, the cinematography was dull and diffuse, with composition that was either boring or as subtle as a hammer to the head.

Maestro. Did not like enough to finish. Something strange and wrong about this movie. It attempts to perform aesthetic mimicry with impressive precision—age makeup, accents, period cinematography—but this does not make the movie a better movie. At most it creates spectacle, at worst it creates uncanny valleys. It puts one on the lookout for irregularities, instead of allowing one to disappear into whatever the movie is doing. Something amateurishly pretentious in the execution. And not in the fun, respectable way, like a good student film. (My go-to example for a movie that has an art-school vibe in a pleasant way is The Reflecting Skin). There’s something desperate about it instead. It has the same disease as Oppenheimer, of attempting to do a biopic in a ‘stylish’ way without working on the basics first. Fat Man and Little Boy is a less overtly stylish rendition of the same subject as Oppenheimer, but far more cinematically successful to me, because it understands those basics. I would prefer to see the Fat Man and Little Boy of Leonard Bernstein’s life unless a filmmaker proves that they can do something with style beyond mimicry and flash.

The Holdovers. Did not like enough to finish. It tries to be vintage, but outside of a few moments, it does not succeed either at capturing what was good about the aesthetic it references, or at using the aesthetic in some other interesting way. The cinematography apes the tropes of movies and TV from the story’s time period, but doesn't have interesting composition in its own right. It lacks the solidity that comes from original seeing. (Contrast with something like Planet Terror, in which joyous pastiche complements the original elements.) The acting is badly directed. Too much actorliness is permitted. Much fakeness in general between the acting, writing, and visual language. If a movie with this same premise was made in the UK in the 60’s or 70's it would probably be good. As-is the movie just serves to make me sad that the ability to make such movies is apparently lost and can only be hollowly gestured at. That said, the woman who won best supporting actress did a good job. She was the only one who seemed to be actually acting.

Killers of the Flower Moon. The only possible winner. It is not my favorite of Scorsese’s movies, but compared to the rest of the lineup it wins simply by virtue of being a movie at all. How to define ‘being a movie’? Lots of things I could say that Killers of the Flower Moon has and does would also be superficially true of other movies in this cohort. Things like: it tells a story, with developed characters who drive that story. Or: it uses its medium (visuals, sound) to support its story and its themes. The difference comes down to richness, specificity, control, and a je ne sais quois that is beyond me to describe at the moment. Compare the way Killers of the Flower Moon uses a bygone cinematic style (the silent movie) to the way that Maestro and The Holdovers do. Killers of the Flower Moon uses a newsreel in its opening briefly and specifically. The sequence sets the scene historically, and gives you the necessary background with the added panache of confident cuts and music. It’s useful to the story and it’s satisfying to watch. Basics. But the movie doesn’t limit itself to that, because it’s a good movie. The sequence also sets up ideas that will be continuously developed over the course of the movie.* And here’s the kicker—the movie doesn’t linger on this sequence. You get the idea, and it moves on to even more ideas. Also compare this kind of ideating to American Fiction’s. When I said that American Fiction’s moments of style felt underdeveloped, I was thinking of movies like Killers of the Flower Moon, which weave and evolve their stylistic ideas throughout the entire runtime.

*(Visually, it places the Osage within a historical medium that the audience probably does not associate with Native Americans, or the Osage in particular. Which has a couple of different effects. First, it acts as a continuation of the gushing oil from the previous scene. It’s an interruption. A false promise. Seeming belonging and power, but framed all the while by a foreign culture. Meanwhile potentially from the perspective of that culture, it’s an intrusion on ‘their’ medium. And of course, this promise quickly decays into tragedy and death. The energy of the sequence isn’t just for its own sake—it sets up a contrast. But on a second, meta level it establishes the movie’s complicated relationship to media and storytelling. Newsreels, photos, myths, histories, police interviews, and a radio play all occur over the course of the movie. And there’s the movie Killers of the Flower Moon itself. Other people’s frames are contrasted with Mollie’s narration. There’s a repeated tension between communication as a method of knowing others and a method of controlling them—or the narrative of them—which plays out in both history and personal relationships.)

Or here’s another example: When Mollie and Ernest meet and he drives her home for the first time, we see their conversation via the car’s rearview mirrors. This is a bit of cinematic language that has its origins in mystery and paranoia. You see it in things like Hitchcock or The X-Files or film noir. By framing the scene with this convention, the movie turns what is superficially a romantic meet-cute (to quote a friend) into something bubbling with uneasiness and dread. This is not nostalgia—this is just using visuals to create effects. It doesn’t matter if you’ve seen anything that uses the convention before, although knowing the pedigree might add to your enjoyment. The watchfulness suggested by the mirrors and Ernest’s cut-off face will still add an ominous effect. It works for the same reason it works in those other things. Like the newsreel, it is a specific and concise stylistic choice, and it results in a scene that is doing more than just one thing.

In general, the common thread I noticed as I watched these nominees, was the tendency to have the ‘idea’ of theme or style, and then stop there. It’s not that the movies had nothing in them. There were ideas, there was use of the medium, there was meaning to extract. There were lots of individually good moments. But they tended to feel singular, or repetitive, or tacked on. Meanwhile contemporary viewers are apparently so impressed by the mere existence of theme or style, that being able to identify it in a movie is enough to convince many that the movie is also good at those things. The problem with this tendency—in both artists and audiences—is that theme and style are not actually some extra, remarkable, inherently rarifying property of art. Theme emerges naturally from a story with any kind of coherence or perspective. And style emerges naturally from any kind of artistic attitude. They are as native as script, or narrative, or character. A movie’s theme and style might not be interesting, just like its story or dialogue might not be interesting, but if the movie is at all decent, they should exist. What makes a movie good or bad, then, is how it executes its component parts—including theme and style—in service of the whole. When theme is well-executed it is well-developed. Contemporary movies, unfortunately, seem to have confused ‘well-developed’ with ‘screamingly obvious.’ A theme does not become well-developed by repetition. It becomes well-developed by iterationand integration. Theme is like a melody. Simply repeating a single melody over and over does not result in the song becoming more interesting or entertaining. It becomes tedious. However, if you modify the melody each time you play it, or diverge from the melody and then return to it, that can get exciting. It results in different angles on the same idea, such that the idea becomes more complex over time, instead of simply louder.

Oppenheimer wasprobably the worst offender in this regard. Just repeat your water drops, crescendoing noise, or a line about ‘destroying the world’, and that’s the same as nuance, right? Split scenes into color and black and white and that’s the same as structure, right? That’s the same as actually conveying a difference between objectivity and interiority (or another dichotomy) via the drama or visual composition contained in the scenes, right? When I watched many of these movies, I kept thinking of a behind-the-scenes story from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. The story goes that Joss Whedon was directing Sarah Michelle Gellar in some scene, and when the take was over he told her how great she was, and that he could see right where the music would come in. And Gellar replied that if he was thinking about the music, he clearly wasn’t getting enough from her acting alone. This conversation then supposedly informed Whedon’s approach to “The Body,” a depiction of the immediate aftermath of death that is considered one of the best episodes of television ever made, and which has no non-diegetic music whatsoever. Not to imply that music is necessarily a crutch, or to pretend that “The Body” is lacking in other forms of stylization (it is a very style-ish episode). But more to illustrate the way that it is easy to forget to make the most of all aspects of a medium, particularly the most fundamental ones, once one has gotten used to what a final product is supposed to feel like. 

And that’s why most of these movies don’t feel like movies. They create the gestalt of a movie or a ‘cinematic’ moment—often literally through direct vintage imitation—without a sense of the first principles. Or demonstrating a sense of them, anyway. Who needs AI when the supposedly highest level of human filmmakers are already cannibalistically cargo-culting the medium just fine.

[1] “The Sound of Money (The Sound of Music and The Singing Nun).” The Pauline Kael Reader. (This book contains the full text of the original review, rather than the abbreviated review that I linked earlier.) 

[betterbemeta]

As it is right now, machine learning image generation is classist. It depends strongly on the human audience's eye for pareidolia to smooth over its inconsistencies and find patterns in its noise where its procedural generation falls short.

This means that the less opportunity a person has to gain context for information, the more likely 'AI art' is to be convincing. As long as that person has been given a baseline to 'believe' the general arrangement of elements, AI art will 'make sense' even if that baseline is just exposure to more acontextual imagery. Which is what the machine learning's algorithms were trained on in the first place.

For example, 'AI' right now struggles to coherently depict plants. When it's not blurry, indistinct plant fur, leaves from different kinds of plants appear on the same stem, plants from the wrong biome are included in 'nature' images. Someone who has very little educational opportunity, but has seen movies where people walk through jungles or forests as set pieces or something, might not notice the difference. And why do you 'need' to know if the plants look right, poor person; you'll never leave your immediate area or take a biology class!

Someone without the opportunity or comfort to travel might not recognize that a cityscape has been artificially generated, depicts no actual real-world city. Is that supposed picture of Dubai or New York City or Cairo showing a real place that exists? Who cares, you're too poor to ever go there.

Searching for information about animal species, even, can get messed up by generated 'content.' Do servals have ear tufts? What kind of insect is that? What species of lizard or snake am I looking at? You don't deserve to know what kinds of animals are real. What time do you have to go to a zoo, if there's even one around you?

The less money you have, the more likely you are to be surrounded by advertising and "AI Art" is ideal for advertising because it only tells a very simple story at best. There's no complicated human emotions; its literally made of averages of what has been seen before. Marketing and advertising content often replaces actual art that might be a window into a greater world. It may even just be dropped in there to fill the awkward silence or blankness that would have otherwise surrounded marketing efforts-- commercials would be surreal without some say-nothing 'music' track behind them, and billboards would be creepy without the graphic noise that surrounds the product and its information. Someone who passes through more monetized public spaces per day will see more of it than someone who inhabits private property.

And like, at the end of the day if you are wealthy... you probably don't care about any of this. You have access to whatever you want, so why do you care what's real? You trust you can 'pay for' the real thing, right?

Plus, who knows the economic status of who generated imagery the machine learning algorithms train on? It's all stolen.

Photography has been critical in modern history for bringing 'the world' across social divisions of class, race, geographical divides. Photographers and filmmakers, along with other visual artists as well as musicians, writers, and journalists associated with all of these disciplines give us lenses, framing, voices, and perspectives to understand our greater world no matter where we are. Hell, identifying the human intentions BEHIND those lenses, framings, voices is key to our development. No matter your circumstances, with a strong grasp of media literacy anyone can sit down and say, wait a minute, is this real, would it be true for me too? Or is this someone's point of view?

To the point of view of wealth and capital, the working class and those without wealth who cannot work (disabled people, displaced people, homeless people shut out of employment, and more) do not deserve to know about reality. To that point of view, nonwealthy people don't deserve to even know who created the perspectives they're allowed to see. You can be born, get trained to work, go to work, come home to the minimum, repeat, and die having seen no images of reality for all they care. They'd like that! How can you dream of something outside the current exploitative structure if you can't even trust you know what plants and animals and cities look like, outside your tiny box?

[kradogsrats]

Mercy and the Sunfire Monarchy

so I started this as just a short "Aditi or a direct ancestor was the originator of the Merciful Compromise, here's the evidence" but then it kind of turned into a general Sunfire meta on Janai and Aditi and I'm too lazy to extract it into two coherent parts

anyway I'm officially calling it now: either Aditi herself, or one of her close ancestors, was the one who proposed the "Merciful Compromise" of splitting the land between humans and elves

But at the last moment, a daughter of the elven leader proposed the Merciful Compromise. She asked that humans be allowed to move and settle the lands to the west.

— Book One: Moon, Prologue

Aditi, being queen of what is obviously a bloodline monarchy, would have been the daughter of a prior monarch.

— s4e4: Through the Looking Glass

Note the numerous types of elves pictured: Aditi was not considered queen/leader of only Sunfire elves, therefore it's a reasonable assumption that the elven leader mentioned was another Sunfire monarch.

— s5e5: Archmage Akiyu

Here's where things get a little messy: Aditi is Karim and Janai's great-grandmother. We still don't have a firm answer on elven lifespan, but it technically only has to be about 250-300 years to easily put Aditi's parent as Sunfire monarch 1000 years ago. Problem is, we know Aditi was queen as recently as 300 years ago, so she would have to have lived 700+ years to have been alive at the time of the expulsion of humans from Xadia.

Now, to be frank, this canon is not the best with timeline consistency, especially when it comes to reasonable length of time between events. Combined with the deliberate vagueness over elven lifespan (in that they clearly intended it to be significantly longer than a human's, but then probably realized that would make the two primary romantic relationships of the show sad and now don't seem to know what to do with it), it would not surprise me at all if they were just like, "yeah Aditi lived extra long because of... her exceptional connection to the Sun primal" or something. There does seem to be something special about Aditi, compared to Khessa and Janai—like, Janai's great, but I can't see her commanding the respect of archdragons (yet).

However, if we assume a 250-300 year lifespan, the originator of the Merciful Compromise could be Aditi's grandmother. If we continue to take Rayla's jab at humans' "sub-century" lifespan as a canon-establishing fact, with minimum expected elven lifespan at 100-200 years, you're looking at a distance more comparable to that between Aditi and Karim/Janai. If elven lifespan drops to "comparable to a human's, plus an extra decade or two so 100-120 is not abnormal," the distance becomes more like that between Ezran and the Orphan Queen. Even with the distance, those are considered significant connections—for Janai to Aditi, and for Ezran to the Orphan Queen. I don't think it's a stretch for Queen Aditi the Merciful to possibly have a connection drawn to a merciful ancestor.

— The Queen's Mercy

Queen Aditi the Merciful. The Merciful Compromise.

The concept of mercy in The Queen's Mercy is very complex, and if anything at all, I think it points to a continuing dichotomy of Sunfire elves and Sunfire elf culture—the Sun primal is explicitly known for its destructive power and connection with strong emotions, but also has a less-acknowledged potential for healing and truth when balanced (Tales of Xadia, 137). Janai is introduced to us as an aggressive warrior, having attacked the fort Amaya commands and attempting to trick her into an ambush. She's shown to have a stern and hot temper when interrogating Amaya.

However, because Amaya showed her mercy she didn't expect, she's clearly deeply uncomfortable with Khessa's initial decision to just have Amaya killed (due to her being "worthless") and then even with Khessa's clearly pointed use of "letting the Light decide her fate." Khessa is obviously expecting her little sister to learn a harsh lesson about mercy in that scene: Amaya will be revealed to be corrupted, as all humans are, and Janai will see that her soft heart allowed her to be tricked. She's visibly disappointed when Amaya passes the trial, but at least keeps to her word and lets her live... as an object that is Janai's problem, now. (Probably she still expects to be vindicated, in the end.)

— s3e3: Ghost

We don't see a lot of Khessa being queen, but that's not a very flattering scene for her. In The Queen's Soul, we see Karim and Janai remember her fondly... but there's also an interesting moment:

— The Queen's Soul

Karim expects Janai to be the kind of ruler Khessa was, calling on her to take the same path as Khessa's "wisdom." Janai rebuffs this line of thinking, partly because she's not super thrilled to be queen... but also because, as the next sentences show, she doesn't plan to be the kind of queen Khessa was. We see throughout s4 the tension between the future Janai wants for her people and Sunfire tradition: blood duels to the death, the death penalty for nonviolent infractions... the start of the s4 Sunfire arc is literally Amaya mistaking a Sunfire ritual of joy and love for an attack.

Completely unrelated side note: Karim already has Osato's red glove in The Queen's Soul, meaning the events of After Darkness are within weeks of the end of s3. Boy's been holding on to that shit for years, now.

Aditi is portrayed as a ruler, a warrior, a smith, and a mage—aspects that encompass different kinds of power, as well as both creation and destruction. She is characterized as wise, kind, and merciful, but that doesn't make her naive in the face of unrepentant evil. She spares Kim'dael's life, but locks her into a redemption that will take lifetimes—and also hinges on the mercy of her descendants. (A mercy that Janai is not willing to extend, though that's the kind of thing that could still come around.) Janai may not be a mage and we haven't seen how much of a smith she may be, but we are seeing that she's a visionary who cares deeply about the future of her people, even at the expense of her own life.

Janai can stand up and say "this human is guilty of her crime, but death is not justice," the way Aditi could stand up and say "this blood duel tradition is nonsense and detrimental to our people," and the way someone, centuries earlier, stood up and said "all humans don't deserve to die."

The Merciful Compromise was proposed by a Sunfire elf of the royal line, send tweet.

[moonshine-nightlight]

Hi, I'm always very impressed by your world building skills, even in shorter stories! Do you have any advice for aspiring writers on how to build their fantasy world?

So i drafted a response to this in between working just far too much and then my computer crashed and i lost it. Then i was even busier so i never got around to writing it again but i am making some time this weekend, so worldbuilding post - take 2

My main, high level worldbuilding tips are:

Rule of Cool: worldbuild things you think are fun and interesting. not only is that the best way to get ideas you like and are motivated to write about, but other people will also think they're interesting too. have fun with it.

Iceberg theory: know more about the world than ever makes it into the story. people can sense when worldbuilding is shallow, so even if they never see the true depths of the world they can often sense it's there. plus if u know the whole picture, everything the readers do see will seem more coherent

Integration: i heavily integrate the world i'm building into the story i'm telling--so dig into the plot and characters and make sure that the world and the story serve each other well. your world is there to contribute to the story so make sure its fulfilling that purpose

For more specifics about how i personally world build and for some examples from my stories of the above guidelines, see below.

So firstly, i love worldbuilding. i just think its a ton of fun and could easily spend hours just thinking about worlds in my head. (i mean what else is there to do when ur commuting to work, amiright?) i think that does make it easier for me to take the time to do it right and makes the world come through more vividly in my writing. it can get annoying or tedious or be more challenging at times, but since i like it/find world building interesting, i'm more willing to put in the time and effort to whip it into shape and i get less frustrated with that part of the process in general.

i'm also always thinking about world building to some degree in the back of my mind. picking up interesting information, facts, snatches of cool ideas or images or whatever. then i throw all that in like a junk drawer in my brain so when i sit down to more officially write or flesh out a world, i already have spare parts at my finger tips to use or drawn on.

Reading and consuming other art and worlds also makes it easier to make your own, just lik reading is a key part of writing practice. i don't just mean fiction, but just anything about the actual world makes it much easier to make up your own--that can manifest as awe at the fireflies that actually exist or spite that dragons dont. Whether that's random youtube video essays about the history of musicals or drinks or fashion to books and articles and documentaries or just my friend's niche interests (or their regular jobs). i'm always taking worldbuilding notes in the back of my mind.

For a more writing specific example, i read this short guide '50 Ways to Kill a Mermaid' (its locked for AO3 so u hav to sign in to read it) and it was super fun and cool to read that info from a writer who had studied marine biology. then when i was fleshing out Don't Shoot the Messenger a year later, the problem of Satrasi being a sea demon in a fresh water pool and bloating came to my mind because i'd stored that tidbit from the article away for later use.

My personal method for worldbuilding and plot outlining is sort a brainstorming/Q&A i have with myself (i hope this makes sense when i'm done writing this all out lol).

I've mentioned this before but the prompt that inspired Dale was: "You’re pretty sure your boyfriend was replaced by an eldritch being that can barely emulate being human. Weirdly, you enjoy a better relationship with them than your actual boyfriend."

So when that idea grabbed me, i started brainstorming about the world and asking myself questions. Why is the reader with the boyfriend if they don't really like them? What would make someone stay in a relationship like that? Do i want to make this a dark story? And i did not, i wanted it to be fun, so the arranged marriage angle came to mind. And if that's the premise then when is the story? is this our 'past' or another world entirely? diff world means more freedom so i automatically leaned in that direction.

Can the reader tell the 'boyfriend' has been replaced? Are demons a thing people know about? does the reader know that's an option? which is more fun? if the reader is worried about Dale getting caught, that's more room for hijinks so then yes, demons are known, but not common otherwise too many people would notice.

So my plot and worldbuilding are evolving in tandem and informing each other, based on the type of story i want to tell and how the characters i have in mind will react etc.

i run through a lot of ideas and turn them over in my head--trying out diff pieces to see if they fit--and am always willing to drop an idea or save it for another story if i don't think its working for the current one

For iceberg theory, i mentioned above for Dale would be the religions in that world. When i decided to introduce a priest like character (for discovery danger) i knew i needed to focus more on the religions than i previously had noted. the majority of what i came up with isn't int he story, but i think the fact that i know it helps me write when did end up in there, helped make it consistent, and means i can more easily work in allusions to it without having to work so hard those singular times.

For example, i'd decided to call the demon realm "the Depths" early on, which to me already invokes deep water and darkness, so i followed that through to sort height and air and light as being perceived more positively. fire and light are important symbols in this world and they primarily burn their dead--to bury someone below ground would be seen as almost condemning them and someone drowning is also seen as like, not good for their soul because what if it is 'pulled down' rather than 'ascending'. some of this was alluded to in the chapter, but most of it is not. this also helped me come up with the various "by the light" "dawn's ire" and other similar little 'religious' phrases and exclamations different characters use at times.

Meanwhile, in Sacrifice, the people living their are relatively non-religious--thats why they both don't pray to any other deities and it takes 5 years of problems to even bother trying an old god. it's not sacrilege because they're desperate people trying a long shot, not violating or abandoning a different belief. because i wanted the reader's main problem with it all to just be that they didn't think it work.

And why is she a translator? because i wanted to use the idea from that one post that goes around about how ridiculous it is in movies when their translated prophecies rhyme in english. why are they arguing about the translation? because its a dead language so no one really speaks it, that means the people who came up with it were here a century ago or longer. why aren't they here anymore? nomadic so they left and ended up staying away because of a natural disaster elsewhere. why is this town here now? a particular export/resource in this area became valuable enough for people to try to live here. the fact that its a lumber town due to some rare wood native to the area doesn't come up in the story, but i know it and i think that i know that about the town helps it feel more real, makes it easier for me to reach for new details when i need them

and going back to anything can be inspiration, let's talk about the doorlock in the very beginning of Finally Woken. its literally just a magical keypad/number pad but with different colored tiles instead of numbers because i wanted the reader to be able to get in, but i felt it didnt make sense for them to hav a physical key. and i thought it would look cool in Heshi's door and it went well with the fact that he's a glassblower . also, why is Heshi a glassblower? because i frickin' lov blown glass - i just think its so cool and pretty. that helped lead into the sort of artisan economy feel that world has.

Each of these stories has an outline and notes doc at a minimum. the notes doc is where i throw lik pics, inspiration posts, random worldbuilding ideas etc. only much shorter stories or stories that are heavily based in 'modern' world don't hav extensive random notes.

my Dale folder has subfolders for characters and the setting, as well as random worldbuilding files such as "demon summoning/magic" "spiritual belief and org" "fashion - feminine" and so on. Even excluding the plot outline and chapter notes (and not counting pics) i've got like, over 4k of random notes saved. dale is the one i hav the most of that for, but all my fics have some little section with stuff like that jotted down

in the end, i think the best way to sum up all that is with my three original rules of: put stuff u think is cool in your world, known more than you tell to help everything fit together and seem deep, and build your world around your plot and characters because they should all be working together to tell the story you want to tell.

honestly, i could ramble about worldbuilding all day so if anyone has any questions or wants more examples, just let me know ^^

[catsconflictscopicsandchamomile]

been seeing lots of Chuck-As-Demiurge/"Flawed God" spn meta and it made me realize that my understanding of Chuck is???? not common????

so my hc/understanding was the Chuck Shurley was/is a human prophet who was possessed by God. First in the usual prophetic sense, then later as a "word of God" type prophet, like MAJOR biblical-level power, in order to pass God's direct thoughts/opinions on to Sam and Dean- and then lastly, God took Chuck as a full-time vessel.

so re: this, I kind of wondered if in the finale, the guy Sam and Dean left scrabbling on the ground was... just human Chuck. is it less meaningful? eh, kinda. does it make the finale make more sense? ...yup.

But most importantly. Picture this. You're a writer, creating OCs that you whump/angst/generally torture the CRAP out of, somehow this becomes an incredibly popular book series, you're touring, you're making BANK. Then later, you MEET YOUR OCS, they are REAL, and apparently so is magic, and the "prophet of God" thing that you thought was a writing/inspo device you'd made up is real, and God is talking to you. so uh, what the fuck. then everything goes black

and when you fade back in, its YEARS later, you're beat up and lying in the dirt, and yoUR OCS ARE STANDING OVER YOU, YELLING AT YOU FOR MAKING THEIR LIVES MISERABLE

THE GUYS *YOU THOUGHT WERE YOUR WHUMP OCS*

TELL YOU THAT YOU ARE MORTAL AND WILL INEVITABLY AGE AND DIE LIKE EVERY OTHER HUMAN

AND THEN DRIVE AWAY IN THE CAR THAT *YOU HAD THOUGHT YOU MADE UP*

all before you can get out so much as a coherent "what the fuck is going on"

like I'm sorry. conceptually that's hilarious

the whump OC you made when you were 25: "YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE A NORMAL BORING LIFE AND AGE AND GET OLD AND DIE! FUCK YOU GOODBYE FOREVER"

you:

[streaminn]

Twin anon here. I have two questions for you stream for the streamer Enid au

One) does Wednesday have social media. Now I know she hates technology and all of that but I ask this with in mind that maybe she has a pr team (or an agent) that wants her to talk about her books/whatever films she’s a part of

Two) if she does I bring you this does the pr team run the social media OR does Enid

I have this in mind while picturing a few things. Wednesdays Instagram looks entirely her it is the top tier goth of Wednesday but every caption on every post is solely done in emojis. “🔪🔪🔪👿” “☕️🏴‍☠️🎬” “🕶️♟️🔪” Enid is having the time of her life with emojis. Wednesdays fans are fighting over whether it’s actually her or not, most are on the side that it isn’t.

THIRDLY ACTUALLY) who is the big and little spoon I will judge your answer

Hello twin anon, ty for tagging yourself. Makes my whole job easier, lemme quickly wrack my brain.

If none of this makes sense, come back next week where I hopefully am back in my bed and finally coherent after hibernating.

Anyways, wednesdayyyy

Fortunately does not :D

At first yes, but after the success of the forevermore series and realizing that she doesn't need to advertise no more, she cut ship and abandoned her accounts.

Even if she wasn't the one maining them.

So yes, the image of Wednesday having this whole seriously run account is funny when you realize it's essentially aesthetic boards Enid made.

Its like an actual fanaccount but it's legit.

So uhhh, know how those big companies have like teenagers run their account on tiktok for promotion? That's essentially what Enid did but less crack and much better in making people stick around.

AS FOR THE SPOONS

Wednesday's still a knife. Enid is there, cuddling said knife. If it helps, wednesday enjoys the weight of enid's body parts on her. Says it's almost like a slow death and she has to fight for her life to breathe in the morning, so that's definitely horrifying.

Aka, wednesday is a cuddler and if yall say otherwise you are WRONG

[wiltkingart]

i hope im not bothering you with this question but i have to say your art style is absolutely MESMERIZING i could study it all day. i was wondering- when you want to draw a couple of characters, lets say andreil, do you visualize them in your head in your art style, or does it take time to translate the way you would like to draw them manually while drawing? (i don't know if my question is coherent enough sorry,,)

thank you! i dont visualize anything in my art style tbh. on the apple visualization scale im pretty mid, and i struggle with picturing detailed faces especially, so it's less of a translation and more of a conjuring. the faces are already in the canvas and its my job to carve them out or whatever. thats how i see it at least! because when i read i picture a basic/blurry amalgamations of passably-human traits, which leaves a lot of wiggle room to map out the details when i draw. hope that makes sense - thanks for the interesting question!

[allnewbananasong]

Do you have any advice on how I can learn angles,poses etc...?

@xoxod3v1l I am quite literally the last person you should be asking for advice cause I am below subpar… but I will share a few things I’ve picked up.

I know people hate to hear it, but practicing is your friend. I know a lot of people suggest using reference photos, but the way I learned was from real life; I watch people in motion as opposed to a photograph. There’s nothing wrong with photos, but I find them to be constricting when you are trying to convey some semblance of movement in your image. When I lived in the city, I used to take a sketchbook to the mall, sit in the food court, and just draw what I saw in motion. They weren’t always carefully crafted and proportionate; a lot of the time, I just scribbled stick figures with a bit of meat to them. Because your subject is on the move, you have to draw quickly if you want to develop what you see into a specific pose. I’ll use a feral Swiss as an example: instead of finding a photograph/reference photo, I played a video clip of the ghoul losing his little ghoul mind on loop and tried to feel what he was trying to say with his body. I wasn’t sure how I wanted it to look, so I scribbled out several “stick figures” before I found one I felt like developing into a sketch. I keep the scribble off to the side as my “reference photo” and just build off of that. I developed the pose by alternating between watching him move in the video and what my mind’s eye was seeing in a stationary image.

Sometimes I don’t draw stick figures first. Sometimes I just start build-a-ghoul and go from there. I think about how my body feels as I draw, using my mental map of my body as a reference. Being aware of how your body feels as you draw is helpful because I feel like it helps assist me in developing what kind of pose I’m trying to say. Drawing is a conversation with yourself; your mind is talking to your body about what the body has to say, and then your body responds with its own advice. From there, the mind starts talking to your drawing hand until you find what you like on the canvas, using loose strokes as you go (I find keeping my hand loose as I draw gives my brain less time to fret over getting it perfect on the first go).

Once you map your body on the canvas, then you can flesh it out a little more. You can be a little more defined with your strokes, because you have a stronger feeling as to what you are trying to say with your pose.

I stroooongly recommend looking into drawing lessons. They don’t have to be a formal school setting; I learn a lot from artists that post their creative process. Not just step-by-step tutorials, but how they form what they want to convey. Watch people livestream their drawings as they’re doing them. Watch time-lapse videos from start to finish. Aaron Blaise has some really good videos, and I’ve downloaded quite a few of his lessons (creatureartteacher.com). My best advice though is to draw from real life. Reference photos are fine, of course, I use them from time to time, but I personally like the touch of learning to draw quickly from moving subjects. That was where I first started learning to draw. It helps you develop a sense of movement and bodily awareness as you draw. Kind of a holistic approach to drawing, I guess lol; I usually draw by feeling the pose in my body, over replicating the pose from a picture. Warm up before you start drawing; it doesn’t have to be good, it doesn’t have to be proportionate, no one ever has to see it. I currently have 306 canvases open in my drawing program, and I’d say a good 289 of them are just warm up sketches. Sketches I’ll one day close without ever sharing. Don’t get too attached to your warm up sketches (unless you plan on developing them into a more coherent sketch later). Warming up is pretty much the only time I’ll use reference photos; any other time, I’m using gifs/videos/models in motion. The pose will make itself known from there.

But seriously, my art is terrible so… sorry if this doesn’t help any. 😅

Also sorry for how long this post ended up being….

[runwayrunway]

No. 23 - Icelandair (With an Aside on the Role of Flag Carriers)

Sure, let's talk about Icelandair! I think they fit in pretty well with the conversation that's been slowly playing out with other European flag carriers Lufthansa and SAS about the evolution of liveries as we stumble in to the 2020s proper. (As for the second half of this ask, hold that thought for just a minute.)

Unfortunately, Lufthansa snuck its nasty little face into this post as well, and I do sort of want to give a brief content warning, as a...certain sordid point in Germany's history is alluded to, though not lingered on. Because flag carriers are sort of important. They're propaganda - and in Icelandair's case, that's okay!

Icelandair is not a concept that needs much explanation. It's right there in the title. It is an airline, and it is from Iceland. If you want a little more information, here's a summary written in 1997 by John K. Morton for his book "Jetliner Glory". (Scan mine)

As you can see, Icelandair was, at this point, rocking a supersized nothingburger of a livery. With just a cheatline and some paint on the bottom of the nacelles to accompany the logo and wordmark it feels less like SAS's belly stripes or Tibet Airlines, where it looks like a plane painted white, and feels more like they just forgot to add the rest of the livery.

While I do slightly prefer this older take with the more faded colours, the bare metal underside, and the contoured down-sloping cheatline, it's still pretty nothing.

Oh no. Oh nonononono don't do that please don't-

Thank you. That's much less worse.

The blue-and-yellow livery was adopted in 2006. I don't like this but this feels necessary. What stands out to me about Icelandair, above any individual feature of their fleet, is that they are fundamentally incapable of departing from whatever the most simplified and common design trend of the time is.

70s and early 80s. Single rule cheatline, large font wordmark, bare metal lower half.

80s and early 90s. All over paint, text moved forward to just behind the forwardmost door. Beginning of strict adherence to Eurowhite en masse.

Aughts to late 2010s. This is an era of somewhat refined Eurowhite. This allows very specific colored parts of the airframe: a block of color on the underside, a detached floating tail, colored winglets, and colored nacelles.

My opinion of this specific livery is that it is nearly identical to Delta's. Similar dark blue shade, exact same layout. The only difference is that Delta's blue engines make the livery look more coherent and Delta's logo is far more distinctive. I consider Delta to be the platonic ideal of this type of 2000s Eurowhite, and Icelandair uses the exact same layout.

I will say...it could be worse. Icelandair does not fail the Star Alliance test, so I cannot give it an F.

It's getting a D, for Delta.

But hey! Great news! They literally just unveiled a new one! And they've given me a nice webpage describing their thought process. I keep seeing more and more airlines do this with their 2020s livery releases and I think it's awesome.

image: icelandair

And they're jellybeans! I make no secret for my love of jellybeans. These come in five colours: boreal blue, magenta, sky blue, yellow, and green. Each of them is meant to represent a different aspect of Icelandic natural phenomenae, which I would expect at least partially stems from the response to their widely beloved Hekla Aurora and Vatnajökull liveries.

The two colours not pictured above: boreal blue (left) and green (right)

I really like these choices of colour. I think my favourite is ultimately magenta because of how striking its contrast is with the main blue, but none of these look even a little bad.

I do wish there was a little more integration of the jellybean colours into the rest of the livery (maybe the winglets or the engine nacelles, or as an outline on the wordmark, or extended to the underside of the plane), but the concept itself is solid and each colourway is pleasing. While I think this is a welcome change from the earlier yellow-and-blue scheme I am very happy that they kept a yellow variant.

Red engine SAS livery jumpscare in the background.

I would say the main thing I dislike about the new livery is the billboard wordmark. It's fine in theory but I utterly despise the typeface they've chosen and I find that sans-serif typefaces look fine when they're small but get uglier and uglier the larger you make them. It's a very boring downgrade, especially compared to the tasteful little serifs on the very tips of the old one. They were a minor aerodynamic touch but they were very nice compared to this, which is giving corporate brochure in a way I can't stand. At least it keeps the middle fuselage from being blank, I suppose.

I do like it a lot better on the Dash 8, though it's a little too low to the bottom for my taste. They could solve this by just making it slightly smaller, but they've apparently fully committed to a font that is, in my opinion, too large and widely spaced.

I feel like they also missed an opportunity with their logo. I've seen people say that it's a stylised 'F' to represent the company's first name, Flugfélag. I've heard someone else say that it reminds them of a stylised aurora, and I agree with them. I think there was a lot of room to play with both of these, and that it's a shape that's simple enough and dynamic enough to lend itself well to livery design, and that they could have created something so much better had they made more use of it - especially with the jellybean colours.

The final thing I want to point out is the tail. It's very blatant that the 2020s equivalent of the detached tail is the slightly-integrated tail, which loops down and just prevents the tail from being detached while still leaving the majority of the fuselage blank white without really adding much visual interest or presenting much in the way of creativity.

SAS and WestJet are two other airlines from those I've covered which do this. Now, they could both be a lot worse - WestJet has a nice wordmark and I've already talked about why SAS does a lot that's more interesting than the tail - but I can't deny that I dislike this trend. It fixes the ugliness of Detached Tail Syndrome but without adding much. It is the bare minimum. It is an upgrade from bad to nothing. And I think it's worth noting that both of these airlines, and indeed the majority of airlines with slightly-integrated tails, used to have detached tails. The Lufthansa clone of the 2020s is the Delta clone of the 2010s.

But I think Icelandair's new livery requires comparison to one 2020s livery more than any other - our old 'friend', Lufthansa.

The reason I point out Lufthansa is that unlike SAS and WestJet it does not feature a curve, but a straight line downwards. It also features more than one colour on the tail itself, sort of - I mean, it has the contrasting white stripe.

I don't think I particularly need to linger on why I like Icelandair's livery so much better than I like Lufthansa's. But I will point out one aspect in particular. The descriptions of the inspiration behind Lufthansa's livery focus on how sleek and modern it is. It occasionally mentions nebulous 'German values' (a phrase which in context refers to Europe's obsession with the most hideous sans-serif fonts on the face of the planet and soul-sucking minimalist white design but which sort of makes me shudder as a disabled bisexual Jew, a set of traits seemingly min-maxxed for being a target of...well, you know) but beyond that is wholly and almost gleefully corporate, scoffing in the face of the fact that flag carriers are almost by design intended to be unprofitable, to provide air transport to residents of their country and to serve as propaganda.

Air France lost heaps of money on Concorde, Alitalia went fourteen years without turning a profit, and do you think carriers like Rwandair or Air Niugini, which just don't have the demand to operate planes filled to capacity, are able to make money? Of course not, but they operate anyway because people need to get places and it's a statement for a government, especially one without the means of a massive European power with centuries of stolen resources at its disposal or an ultrawealthy Gulf state, to put their names on a plane and say that this is a service they are providing to the people they are, on paper, meant to provide for.

This is not a feature unique to airlines - just think about the way high-speed rail in China and Japan are inherently tied to their national identities, as something these countries have built as a service to their people and as something which makes them better places to live. Think about the Space Race, which was a dick-measuring contest more than it was for science. The US government is notorious for its unwillingness to fund science projects but if it means sticking it to the reds it's worth a couple billion to put a man on the moon.

Any sort of project which invents or builds by necessity becomes a symbol of national power. Sometimes these things are useful, like high-speed rail, and sometimes they advance science, like reaching the moon, but, like...did Ferrari World need to exist, or is the UAE willing to spend a bunch of money to say "look how awesome we are, we have the fastest roller-coaster in the world"? Did the USSR need the Tu-144? Of course not - luxury air transport wasn't a thing, they couldn't charge a premium, and there wasn't anywhere safe to release a sonic boom over, and it was rushed out in a state that couldn't really be considered airworthy just to serve for less than a year while diverting resources from actually useful aerospace projects. The Tu-144 set back Soviet aerospace engineering by decades but it was worth it for the chance to say they built the first supersonic airliner, which will remain technically true forever. Countries are chomping at the bit to displace people and abuse labourers and waste money and resources to build stadiums that will lie derelict for the rest of time just to get to say they hosted the Olympics.

These things are worth losing money for. To say 'we are willing to lose money to give our people transport and to have our own airline with our own flag on it'. Flag carriers do not need to be profitable. If they happen to turn a profit that's a good thing for the country but it's not meant to be the point. That the US has never had a flag carrier feels like a very pointed statement to me - no handouts, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and build your own damn airline. While many large airlines elsewhere have their own founders with their own marks on history and large personalities, none of them have the cultural capital that Juan Trippe or Howard Hughes do. Icelandair's equivalent of Juan Trippe is the aurora.

I cannot imagine a carrier which reflects its national identity less than Lufthansa does. Perhaps they want to forget that they are a flag carrier and by this nature propaganda. After all, despite being largely a different entity, they bear the name of a flag carrier founded by the Third Reich. They had an easy out of this. They could have stuck with their initial name, Luftag. They could even have taken the name and branding of Interflug, the East German flag carrier, but better to be founded by the actual Third Reich than by the Communists, from their perspective. It's probably better to lean as far away from what they were made to be as possible. And from their point of view to be as corporate as possible is actually probably a reflection of what there is to love about Germany, given that this is their background. I find that incredibly sad. If I were German, this would make me furious. There is so much more to Germany than anything Lufthansa has ever been. It is insulting not just to my eyes but to the idea that it is meant to be part of German identity.

Meanwhile, Icelandair's inspiration is Iceland: the natural features which make their country worth visiting. They are aware of this - they actually used the Hekla Aurora livery to promote the fact that they offered free week-long stopovers in Iceland. Their website explicitly lays, interspersed with images of aurora over snowy mountainous landscapes which seem to stretch on forever, that this is what Iceland has to offer.

And since we spend so much time in the sky, we drew inspiration from what we see in front of us, and what we see in our country from above. [...] By extending our color palette, we have a chance to bring the vibrant Icelandic spirit to the world, and to show the world the diversity of our people: The Icelandic spirit is available to anyone and everyone who wants to share in it.

At the end of the day, flag carriers are a form of propaganda. That word normally has a very nasty connotation, but it doesn't have to be things like war crime coverups and attempts to quell rebellion. In this case, it can be an encouragement for Icelandic people to be proud of something about their country as well as an attempt to drum up tourism. Is it still a calculated attempt to sell you something? Sure. But it's an attempt to sell something Icelandic people are proud of, because they live somewhere with beautiful features that don't exist anywhere else. I really want to visit Iceland, and have for years, for the exact reasons outlined in Icelandair's material about their new livery.

And does this livery actually overtly communicate these things? No, not really. I think it's something you can see when you have it explained to you but wouldn't notice at a glance. But the fact that this was considered at all, much like condor's justification for their flying striped nightmares, keeps me from feeling the same sort of disgust I do for liveries like Lufthansa's.

So, Icelandair could do a lot better. But they're doing a lot better than they ever have before. And they have succeeded, fundamentally, at being Icelandair.

I leave them with a final grade of C.

It could be better. Far better. But they're at least using the right equation to get the wrong answer. If they ever get the courage to design something which doesn't follow the dominant trends in whatever the decade's particular flavour of Eurowhite is as if it's copied from a template, I think Icelandair could come up with something really great, and I hope I live long enough to see it.

And, as a final note on their commitment to their national identity, I will be discussing their three non-crossover special liveries: Þingvellir, Vatnajökull, and this blog's first twice-requested livery, Hekla Aurora. But they will get their own post, because this one is already preposterously long, so get ready to see a lot more Iceland very very soon.

(...I really want to visit Iceland.)

[sammyloomis]

2023 completions

welcome to the 2023 edition of my ramblings about video games i completed this year!! including even more unwanted opinions and even less coherency

total games: 37

09/01 - Sam & Max Save the World - 8/10

sam and max, freelance police, begin a long string of investigations involving hypnotised celebrities, sentient computers, and conspiracies that go all the way to the TOP, baby

startin the year off good game wise then!! tbh i started this one in 2022 but it didnt make that list cause i just.. wasnt in a game playin mood towards the end i guess fghj but anyway!! really liked this one, ive seen a few mutuals who like this series so i was excited to play it and it was a lot of fun :] defo an old school point and click game and i rly liked the main characters themselves and the supporting cast!! glad theres another remaster i can jump into right after this one

11/01 - Dark Pictures Anthology: The Devil In Me - 8/10

the crew of lonnit entertainment are invited to a recreation of the infamous murder house, the stomping grounds of americans first serial killer, h h holmes. they are hoping the location will help save their documentary, but will you be able to save... THEIR LIVES??

i feel like every dark pictures game becomes my fave dark pictures game as they come out, but this one really was Very Good. i can confidently say this is probably the most scared ive been while playing a supermassive game Ever. the characters, while dysfunctional, grew on me a lot over the course of the game which made keeping them alive even more nailbiting :’] speaking of, the deaths in this one were Particularly gruesome imo, just from a concept standpoint, so big kudos for that too!! my only gripe is that i think the new “features” such as puzzle solving and traversal mechanics just artificially prolonged the runtime without actually adding anything to the experience

15/01 - Sam and Max Beyond Time and Space - 7/10

even more weird shit is afoot in the second sam and max game, this time our duo facing off against T-H-E-M, the bermuda triangle, and satan himself!! ... or was it santa??

2 sam and max games in one month, this may have detrimental effects on my brain :’] but really, i liked this one too!! not as much as the first, but i still liked the characters and overall story, i liked how it all connected to both the previous game and the events through this one. i found some of the puzzles a bit more difficult and obtuse, but they were still fun. another fun point and click game (tho somewhat dated in some cases fghjk)

18/01 - Sherlock Holmes: Crimes and Punishments - 5/10

the game preceeding sherlock holmes: the devils daughter, which i completed last year, follows the titular character once more, solving 6 of his cases along with his partner dr john watson

eh, not much to say about this one. i certainly prefered the devils daughter, but that one was also kinda meh fghjk. with this one being an older game, the graphics and gameplay were a bit more janky, and i guess theyd changed voice actors for sherlock since this game cause i didnt like his voice in this one tbh. that being said, mystery wise id say its abt on par with the devils daughter. yeah, again, not much to say really :’]

24/01 - Psychonauts 2 - 10/10

a mole in headquarters, an evil from the past is rising again, and even MORE figments hidden in really obscure places... another day at the psychonauts office :V raz once again must delve into various brains to figure out what the Fuck is goin on

okay this game was literally so fkn good in every aspect. visually stunning, amazing story, brilliant characters both new and returning... GOD!!! what the first game did well, this one blew it CLEAN out of the water, i loved it a lot!! like idk what else to even say, it was just such a solid game i cant think of much to critisise :’]

04/02 - AI: The Somnium Files - 3/10

kaname date works for the police force for a department unknown to the general public, using groundbreaking technology, he delves into the minds of suspects and uncovers clues using their own memories. when a body shows up resembling a victim of a serial killer from a cold case, he begins his investigation

... man... spike chunsoft rly just know how to make characters that grate on me fghjk for starters ill praise the original concept and interesting story (when it finally got around to being revealed), but i disliked/was uninterested in most of the characters and thought the tropes they kept using were annoying and just plain weird. im not fully sure Why this game was a branching path type game since it never really plays into the plot and the main story could have easily been told with a single storyline. overall, didnt rly enjoy this one, but what can ya do they cant all be winners :’]

13/02 - Sly Cooper and the Thievious Raccoonus - 5/10

sly cooper, youngest descendent of the illustrious cooper thief clan, had his familys secrets stolen when he was just a lad. now he sets out to retrive what was taken from him and beat up some bad guys as he does

i gotta commend this game for the humour and the creativity with it, and im defo lookin forward to playing the rest of these games based off this one, but i think this first entry suffers from a lot of Jank that made it quite frustrating to play :’] also, there wasnt any way to mute anything except the music or adjust the volume so it would routinely blow the FUCK out of my eardrums. that bein said tho, still fun, very quick game, but im keepin it a low rating cause im expecting to like the later ones better :’]

26/02 - Hidden Agenda - 2/10

the infamous “trapper” killer makes a final confession while counting down the days on death row, claims he never killed anyone and he can help lead the police to exactly who did. detective becky marney must investige this case one more time and decide if hes lying, or if the killer is still afoot

im so so SO sorry to my friends who like this game but besties.... why fghj for starters i was locked out of playing it for almost 2 years when the app you are REQUIRED to use in order to play this thing just stopped working, and when i finally did start playing the jank didnt stop with just the app. the whole game seems to be a broken mess with textures flickering in and out, characters walking thru solid objects, its MADNESS. the story and characters are so.... not interesting :[ it takes only 2 hours to do a full runthru of the story so i never rly grew to care abt them and theyre so flat anyway that i didnt Want to. if it wasnt so clearly rushed i think itd be good, and some of the acting is actually rly stellar, but overall...... its a no from me

04/03 - Minecraft - minecraft/10

its minecraft

technically i already got the plat ages ago but this year i finally got the coveted 100% so.... yeah ;w; i mean we all know what minecraft is so like...... idk what to say abt it guys, u already know how good it is (tho the console version is Vasty inferior to pc)

05/03 - Death Stranding - 8/10

after a world ending catastrophe dubbed the death stranding wiped out modern life as we know it, humanity is scattered across america. its up to sam porter bridges, post apocalyptic delivery man, to travel across the country and unite those that remain

depsite how confusing this game was, and how slow it was paced, and how fkn damn weird it was half the time, i still had a lot of fun playing it :’] i enjoyed the characters, tho wish certain ones had more limelight, i enjoyed the actual gameplay, tho by the end game i was finding it a bit Too repetetive, and i found the story rly interesting, when i could understand what was going on fghj so basically for every good thing i liked, it was countered by something, tho they are fairly small things. also the ending cutscene is an hour n a half long and i was fkn 3 am when i was finally allowed to exit the damn game so, u know, beware of that

10/03 - Ratchet & Clank - 7/10

young mechanic ratchet, with his new buddy clank, join the galactic rangers in stopping the blargs from destroying countless planets in order to build their own

another game thats been on my backlog for ages, im glad to have this one done and dusted :’] i certainly had fun playing it, but i feel like it was a bit Too kiddy in some places for my personal taste (dialogue and humour wise that is, but since this was also made by insomniac of spiderman fame, it makes sense) and after a certain point the game becomes piss easy with all the upgrades u get, but i still enjoyed it

03/04 - Sly Cooper 2: Band of Thieves - 5/10

sly and his pals return to their thieving ways after learning that the infamous klaw gang have begun reassembling parts for slys arch nemesis; clockwork. they travel across the globe to stop them

man my descriptions are getting worse fghj but anyway, as with the first game, i rly enjoyed the characters!! and the music, and... thats pretty much it. i really dont know what it is about these sly games that i just cant seem to enjoy the gameplay but i Really Really dont have fun while playing them :[ which is a shame cause, like i say, great characters that id like to spend more time with. if this was supposed to be the best in the series, i think im gonna give the 3rd and 4th games a miss for now, but maybe ill come back to them in the future

29/04 - Last Day of June - 7/10

a short game depicting a young couple named carl and june, and the tragedy surrounding their relationship

this game doesnt actually have a plat, which is something im trying not to be too picky about going forward in terms of playing games, but even tho this game was super short i really liked it!! the story is rly simple but incredibly sad, and even though theres a lack of “voice acting” in the traditional sense, there was still a lot of great emotive acting in this. that being said, the fact some of the voices sounded so odd detracted from the seriousness of the plot sometimes, and the actual gameplay was kinda boring, but still a solid short game :]

29/04 - Predator Hunting Grounds - 1/10

DO NOT PLAY THIS GAME

OH THE AGONY OH THE PAIN OH THE HOURS OH THE WASTED YEARS THE WASTED YOUTH THE PRETTY LIES THE UGLY TRUTH

and i dont like it >:[

03/05 - Linger in Shadows - 1/10

this... isnt even a game apparently

i had it on my list of things to check out while i had the ps plus premium thinking it Was a game, but its not. its a strange kind of “art” thing according to the guide i used. i didnt rly know what was going on fghj. certainly a unique experience i suppose but nothing id recommend u go out of ur way to do, even if it takes literally 10 minutes to get all the trophies (no plat either)

08/05 - Kurushi - 2/10

ps1 puzzle game, another one from the ps plus catalogue

not much to say abt this one again fghj seems like these last few games have been kinda duds huh :’] ah well, theres certainly better games on the horizon i suppose. as said, this is just some puzzle game from the ps1, janky controls and all. the music is surprisingly good, sounds almost like disney instrumentals :’] not that fun without assisstance tbh

09/05 - The Gardens Between - 6/10

a very short puzzle game following 2 friends exploring a strange series of islands that tell the story of their friendship

when i say short i Mean short. like even without a guide i got this completely done in 2 1/2 hours, and that included me leaving the game on while i went to get something to eat from the kitchen. that being said, its a very cute game!! i enjoyed the puzzles, the style is nice and Capital-I-Indie, the musics nice and relaxing. the story was also nice, if sad, (can i say nice a few more times??? nice nice nice nice) but i just think this game is Wayyyy too short dfghj i think a lot more could have been done with it :’] glad i didnt pay the full £15 for this as it would have been a bit of a rip off

09/05 - Nelson Tethers: Puzzle Agent - 8/10

fbi agent tethers is sent out to the minnesotan town of scoggins to investigate the local eraser factory shutting down

damn we’re just flying thru em now huh! ive actually played and 100%’d this game before on steam, as well as its sequel so i suppose im a little biased :’] but i rly like this game!! another short one, and another puzzle one, but i rly love the art style and story, as well as the puzzles being fairly simple but still fun!! its a shame the second game never made it to ps or id complete that one too but yeah, fun and simple puzzle game, defo recommend :] like most games like this tho, i wish it were longer

11/05 - ABZU - 6/10

you are a diver on a journey through the ocean, discovering the creatures that inhabit the waters

short n sweet indie game (anotha one) and this one was pleasant!! i rly liked the style and music, the story was simple but told fairly well, and just overall a nice game :] beyond that, not much to say tho fghj defo a very pretty game, and id recommend if you have an interest in marine life n such, but beyond that its pretty bog standard indie game

11/05 - The Pedestrian - 5/10

a short puzzle game where you traverse various signs as the tiny person within them

pretty straight forward puzzle game with a Weird ending that i dont quite understand fghj but overall it was enjoyable :’] most of these quicker games ive been playing lately have been super quick puzzle games so i might be getting burnt out on them, but even then i can appreciate the creativity of this one. its also another game with no plat which, considering it came out not 3 years ago, is kind of annoying

14/05 - Brothers: A Tale of Two Sons - 4/10

two brothers venture on a quest to find medicine for their sick father

another short puzzle game, with a pretty interesting feature!! you control each brother with an analogue stick each, which can make coordination in some parts quite tricky if ur me fghj overall a pretty decent game, the story was kinda meh for me but i thought the gameplay was interesting, not much else tho

20/05 - Bloodborne - 6/10

the town of yharnam is crawling with beasts and hunters alike. fight through the corrupted streets and discover the fetid depths of this city and all the inhabitants trying super duper hard to kill you

im editing this from when i first wrote it after immediately finishing the game because i was cranky and frustrated because i cant in good faith give this game a score lower than 5 (mainly because i know the fromsoft fans would dox and kill me). this game is visually very nice, in the sense that it looks Horrible, which fits the vibe. the gothic style along with the monsters are really unique and detailed to the point where some of them are hard to look at. that being said, i personally didnt like this game. at all. i know on a “technical” level its very good, but i struggled for a Long Time to “git gud” as it were and surprisingly, dying a million times because you cant dodge within a 1/2 second window before being stun locked to death GREATLY decreased my enjoyment of this game. and thats all im gonna say about it :V

21/05 - Black Mirror - 4/10

following the suicide of his father, david gordon returns to scotland from india to inherit his familys estate. however, there are strange mysteries surrounding this house and the family who occupy it

pretty short horror/puzzle game that was pretty light on both the horror and puzzles fghj tho this game had a surprising amount of animation that looks fairly good which was a nice surprise. the characters were fine, and the story started out quite interesting but just felt a bit... weird. especially the ending, the final climax is basically just a bunch of qtes that ends really abruptly with little push back from the villain :’] for a free game i guess i cant complain too much

23/05 - Vampyr - 8/10

dr johnathan reid, recently turned vampire, has just returned home to london after serving as a field medic during the war. the streets are crawling with rogue vampires, and an epidemic is spreading quickly through the city, all while johnathan is searching for his maker

FINALLY A GAME I ENJOYED. GOD. okay so this was surprising because ive heard a lot of people call this game p mid, and maybe id think the same if it wasnt preceded by a whole bunch of Crap ive recently played, but here we are!! i really loved the chracters, i thought they were all fun and interesting, even the ones we dont meet for too long, and i also found the story super compelling!! the game Does have a bit of jank to it, with weirdly long loading times (even on the ps5) and the occassional graphical error, but otherwise i rly enjoyed this one :]

31/05 - Ratchet & Clank: Rift Apart - 9/10

seperated after dr nefarious begins ripping holes into other dimensions, ratchet and clank must team up with another lombax named rivet and stop the universes from collapsing altogether

man this game was so fun!! i got the whole thing done and dusted over the course of 2 days :’] the writing was still a bit cheesy for me, and as implied the play time is Outrageously low for the steep price (which i thankfully avoided cause ps plus), but the gameplay itselt was Incredibly fun and engaging!! defo a huge step up from the first game in this reboot series. i also rly loved rivet so that certainly helped :’]

02/06 - Lake - 5/10

meredith weiss, a successful programmer, moves back to her childhood town of providence oaks to fill in her her dad at his post office job. deliver mail to the residents of this lakeside town and decide how meredith wants to end her 2 week stint

pretty cute indie game i got through ps plus, i kinda wish the whole thing Was just a post delivery simulator :’] the characters are okay, the storys okay if a little eh.... i wanna say Loose?? like the plot beats (if u can call them that) feel kinda boring n half arsed. theres also a random romance option in this which feels?? out of place and doesnt actully impact anything that much. overall its an okay game, like i say the thing i found the most fun was driving around delivering post but maybe thats just my autism showing :V

13/06 - PowerWash Simulator - 10/10

i mean... kinda does what it says on the tin guys

is a 10 a bit generous?? maybe. do i particularly care?? absolutely not. this game is a 10 if ever there was one. i truly dont know how else to sell this if the idea of cleaning stuff with a powerwasher isnt immeditely appealing to you like, maybe You’re the problem :V this game also has a weird amount of lore?? which is also v fun fghj so do with that info what you will

19/06 - LEGO Pirates of the Caribbean - 7/10

a lego retelling of all 4 pirate movies, with all the usual lego bells and whistles

pretty typical lego game, so the gameplay and stuff is p fun!! ive actually never seen these movies so i didnt rly know what was goin on half the time, especially because this is an Older lego game so theres zero voice acting in this. i also had quite a few crashes and bugs while playing where i had to restart either the level or the whole game, which got annoying during the cleanup grind. overall tho, cant go wrong with a lego game tbh

17/08 - Chicory: A Colorful Tale - 9/10

after all the colour in the world disappears out of nowhere, you must go on a quest across the picnic province to restore it using a magic paintbrush

you may notice the significant time gap between the last game and this one and uhhhh ngl folks i was Not Gamin dfghj i was Tired n a lil Sad but eh what can ya do, but this was a great game to come back with!! absolutely loved this one, super adorable art style and gameplay that reminded me a LOT of toem, very similar vibes but this game is much longer imo. id give it a perfect 10 if the collectibles weren’t so horrid to find fghjk but other than that cant recommend this one enough!!

29/08 - Observation - 7/10

dr emma fisher wakes up after the space station on which she resides undergos a catastrophic failure. take control ships ai, S.A.M., and attempt to reboot the systems and find the crew, who have all mysteriously disappeared...

rly quite liked this one!! the fact u control the ships ai is a pretty interesting feature and made the interface really cool and sci-fi lookin, defo alien inspired on that front. i liked the story, even if it Did get a bit confusing, and the voice acting was also pretty stellar!! gotta dock points for some classic indie game Jank, and the fact that there isnt a whole lot goin on gameplay wise (p much entirely minigames that arent that well explained to you that u only end up doing once) but the story and overall eerie atmosphere rly saved it for me

31/08 - OMNO - 5/10

short indie game where u travel through a mystical world, solve puzzles, and meet extraordinary animals

theres indie games and then theres Indie Games, u know?? this is the latter. and thats not a bad thing!! it just means its kinda... predictable. usual fare of no voice acting, gorgeous music, simple but stylised graphics etc etc. it was pretty cute and the puzzles were fun, but some of the controls felt a bit clunky and like i say, a little boring story wise imo (but maybe ive just played too many of these types of games). perfectly middle of the road :’]

03/09 - Tacoma - 7/10

you have been sent on a mission to retrieve the ai from a ship where all the crew have seemingly vanished (sounds a bit familiar huh?? all sci fi is the same (affectionately)). explore the ship and piece together what happened to everyone

anotha one, anotha sci fi indie game :’] rly liked the story of this one!! and it was an interesting mechanic to be able to view scenes of the crew via an AR system, and then also view their files and such. despite their limited appearances, all the crew members were interesting and unique, and no spoilers but it made the ending and its lead up a lot more exciting and intense. gotta dock points for how Glitchy this game was, it crashed at one point and started stuttering so bad i had to restart it manually, and also for how short it is. still, good story, good characters

06/09 - Chicken Police: Paint it RED! - 8/10

a gritty noir point and click detective game where u play as the infamous sonny featherland, one half of the crime fighting duo, chicken police. after a nervous dame shows up on his doorstep about her mistress recieving vague threats, he realises hes gotta take just one last case

anthropamorphic detective chickens..... played TOTALLY straight, mind you. like i was actually totally blown away by this game fghjk its Completely voice acted for one, and its Pretty Fuckin Good voice acting too, the story and mystery is Really interesting, the world its set in is super gritty and deep despite how little its kinda touched on through the story, i was very surprised!! i think the ending and reveal were a bit uhh.... abelist, not to get too into spoilers, but for a noir story i guess its par for the course. still, enjoyed this one!!

08/09 - The Testament of Sherlock Holmes - 5/10

a mutilated bishop, a deadly poison, and some other shady bullshit, its another sherlock holmes game

this is actually the oldest game in the series thats avilable on ps, ive kinda gone about playing these in the exact wrong order :’] that being said, i do think this is my Least favourite of the 3 ive played thus far. like crimes & punishment, this game also has plenty of jank, and the voice acting is a lil ehhh stiff for my taste. the puzzles were fine, the story was fine, overall just Fine. this game follows 1 case rather than multiple like its sequels do

10/09 - Garfield Kart: Furious Racing - 4/10

basically a mario kart clone but with garfield :]

now i am not one who loves racing games. in fact i suck quite badly at them. so u may wonder why i have a racing game in this list and well?? im ngl i bought this game as a meme and it ended up being so hard i had to put it down for a while dfghj BUT i came back to it and after hours of sweatin and gamer rage i DID IT!!! but at what cost. the game is fun, it looks nice, tho the only real garfield references it Has are its racers, the courses are kinda bland and generic. also the trophies...... my GOD the trophies..... not even a plat btw hhhh anyway if u like racing games check it out but if u Dont then DONT

17/09 - The Last of Us: Part 1 - 8/10

in the fungusy zombie apocalypse, smuggler joel is tasked with taking an immune girl, ellie, to a group of freedom fighters to create a cure. a remake of a remake :’]

obviously its good. i mean cmon. i remember watching a playthru of the OG og game wayyy back when so i kinda knew all the plot beats, but playing it myself in this beautiful 4k ps5 remake was Glorious (dont get me wrong, i think it was totally unnessesary to remake it AGAIN but it do look pretty). i can certaily see why this game has such a cult following and got the reception it did. maybe a Tad overhyped?? maybe a tad. but still good!! gameplay is solid, story is solid, characters are solid, whats not to like?? docking points for the frankly OBSCENE price point (luckily i got mine Mega cheap but go-LLY)

03/10 - The Last of Us: Part 2 - 10/10

after a devastating loss, ellie begins a gruelling quest for revenge and runs the risk of not only losing the ones she loves, but herself as well

i mean. fuck me guys. fuck ME. if the first game is good then this one is straight up glorious. the story is Vastly improved, so much tension and grey morality and Bone Deep Agony, emotionally and physically. its just such a hugely better game, both story and gameplay wise with a Bunch of new features and they arent afraid to take you to Extremely dark places with characters we already love and brand new ones too. this games going to be sitting with me for a long time i feel

and thats it for 2023!!

kinda fell off the gaming wagon in the final few months of this year due to a variety of reasons, but lets hope i can keep gettin games off the ol’ backlog in the new year :]

[corrodedparadox]

wow looking at your rat king thing, you improved SO MUCH in the last two years. what did you feel helped you improve?

There’s a handful of things I would say but the main one was switching from a screenless tablet to an iPad!! Obviously iPads are kinda pricey so I can’t recommend it for everyone, but I genuinely feel like switching from a screenless tablet (I used to use Huion) to screened one REALLY helped me get a better grasp of everything, along with procreate just having an easier layout to use compared to the other programs I used (SAI and CSP) which made me less afraid to mess around with brushes and other fun things like halftone textures and chromatic abbreviations, ect ect . Definitely play around with brushes!! While a different brush won’t suddenly make you the Best Artist Ever, finding a brush that works well with your style/art process can help a TON (almost all my brushes are from @/thedawner brush packs, I highly recommend their brushes!! Lots of free packs too, I use the bonobo chalk as my main painting brush)

The other big thing is references!! I rarely used any references until like last year, I’ve been taking my own pose/expression/ect references (yes that means looking at a weird picture of you for like an hour to get the pose right but you get used to it) and going on walks to get nice landscape shots for my work (all my giant ass floating fish drawings are based on images I personally took), but if you don’t wanna do that websites like unsplash, Pexels, and pixabay are great for royalty free (VERY IMPORTANT, I have seen LOTS of artists end up in legal battles because they just used a random photo they got off Google that ended up being copyrighted) pictures and vectors to help get ya started.

The last major big thing is my drawing process in general!! I was hardwired to believe you HAD to do art in the steps of sketch, lineart, color, then shading all on separate layers. Don’t be afraid to use what process works for you! When I threw lineart out the window and started painting all on one layer it became WAY easier for me to block out shapes (highly recommend doing greyscale paint studies, it helps SOO much with more coherent color pallets and lighting) and really helps the entire work fell connected rather than a character that feels poorly overlaid on a separately drawn background.

Don’t be afraid to fuck around! Its art! It’s supposed to be messy and weird! Merge your layers! Use 30 different brushes because you feel like it!! Have fun and mess around with the process and see where it takes you!!!

[paramouradrift]

#Avatar BioShock Crossover AU" 2023 please!!!

This one's a doozy.

I don't remember precisely what triggered this one, but there was a period of a couple weeks last year where I got really into the idea of an Avatar/BioShock crossover AU. This spawned several AUs, only one of which made it into my WIP folder, apparently, so the rest must be lurking on discord with my beta reader. This particular AU has a few scant character notes, some timelines, and a discussion of themes that paint what I would consider a compelling but overly-ambitious picture.

The themes in play: destiny, causality, consciousness, free will, and moral choice. We are pulling material from BioShock, BioShock 2, BioShock 2: Minerva's Den, BioShock Infinite, Avatar: the Last Airbender, and Legend of Korra. Rapture exists in its own right, whereas Columbia is replaced with Republic City. Tears, Spirit Portals, and Spirit Wilds are all the same thing, linking Rapture and Republic City across time and space. Bending and Splicing are the same, as well, with the "Avatar" being someone who has spliced up to an incredible degree and not died of every kind of cancer. The Avatar State is thus a kind of berserk mode that uses up all the EVE in the Avatar's body, leaving them powerless and vulnerable at the end. Past Avatars exist as coherent ADAM ghosts.

Aang, in this story, is a Jack/Eleanor Lamb character originally from Rapture who escaped into Republic City through a tear, and set about trying to find a way back to Rapture's past to undo all of the damage he ended up causing. He's a man haunted by guilt whose efforts are ultimately futile, because that's not how causality works.

Korra is our Elizabeth, whose ability to open and close tears makes her valuable to Aang in his quest for redemption, but also makes her a target for everyone on both sides of the veil who wants a slice of the Rapture/Republic City pie. But opening and closing tears destroys entire sections of probability space, creating fixed points in spacetime and releasing a ton of spiritual energy that gets eaten by the bioluminescent mass that sits beneath Rapture, spitting ADAM slugs back out into the world, accelerating the chaos and decline of both cities.

I have here that Aang somehow travels back to the past and becomes the founder of Rapture, which means he later creates and then kills himself while trying to do everything he can to avoid that outcome. It probably made more sense in my head the time. The other members of the Gaang are listed as Rapture's Best & Brightest: Zuko and Sokka are divorced and miserable, with Zuko trying to be a single dad and Sokka inventing the Thinker; Katara is the city's foremost doctor and philanthropist; Suki is a detective/private security chief; and Toph runs the banks because nobody else is capable. She also laid a lot of the city's foundation.

The Mechanist is here inventing things. Wu is a popular singer with his own radio program. Suyin is a prima donna ballerina. Asami is...presumably doing something amazing, but I didn't write that bit down.

The villain rogue's gallery is all here as well, moving back and forth across the tears and causing mischief and mayhem. Zaheer's radical spirituality causes Aang (Rapture Founder) to ban religion, and Unalaq tries to get control of the Avatar Program so that he can become an Avatar himself. Ozai and Zhao extend their feelers throughout both cities, seizing power and resources for themselves. Amon slots himself nicely into the Atlas role (plot twist and all), so nothing really more to say there. Kuvira is apparently a former police officer turned mob boss capitalizing on the chaos for her own gain. Long Feng is a cold technocrat who runs a private security firm and manages assets for city big wigs. My note on him is "a less affable Sinclair."

Pro-bending/ADAM boxing is a thing, so Mako and Bolin are here trying to make it big in the big bad city/ies, which probably means I planned some background Wuko.

I have no idea what my endgame was. I don't know what the actual plot was going to be. This project wasn't one I seriously considered planning out in detail because I was in the middle of H&V/J&R work, and that takes priority over anything else with this level of ambition. Having said that, it might be interesting to take another pass at the concept and see if I can turn all of that up there into something workable.

WIP Game master post.