#asymmetric growth

[whats-in-a-sentence]

Hook formation and maintenance in the dark result from ethylene-induced asymmetric growth (Figure 18.27A). (...) During the seedling response to ethylene, the transverse pattern of microtubule alignment in the cells of the hypocotyl is disrupted, and the microtubules switch over to a longitudinal orientation (Figure 18.27B).

"Plant Physiology and Development" int'l 6e - Taiz, L., Zeiger, E., Møller, I.M., Murphy, A.

[kitkatpadywaks]

Arcane fic recs

i'm not over Arcane s2.

Key: 🔥Smut - ❤️ Fluff - 💢 Angst - ❤️‍🩹 Hurt/Comfort

Last Updated: 17th December 2024

Multi Fandom fic recs | Bucky Barnes fic recs | Daryl Dixon fic recs

BED CHEM by @yukioos (viktor x reader) ESPRESSO (BED CHEM PT2)

summary: you and mel walk down the hallways of piltover university when suddenly, you encounter two men trying to break into a professor’s laboratory.

🔥virgin!viktor by @pipthepiper (virgin!viktor x experienced!reader)

thinking about cuddling s1 Viktor ♡ by @juststrawberrytea

It's you in the reflection, not him. by @wheatbreadfuckyeah [Viktor x Reader] Graphite Powder Oh, To Capture You In Pages [Viktor X Reader]

🔥Study Date by @honey-pages (Viktor x Reader) 🔥Weaker (Study Date Part 2) ❤️Tea and Biscuits (Study Date Part 3) ❤️Play Fight (Fluff Fics Part 1) ❤️Kiss Me (Fluff Fics Part 2)

summary: Viktor waits for you in the library for an unexpected study date.

Kindling Sparks by @prettybouquets Golden Hour Confessions

🔥academic rivals by @ihopeinevergetsoberr (viktor x fem!reader) 💢🔥i'm in love with a dying man 🔥do you fancy a quickie?

🔥studying birds and bees by @dadsbongos

summary: viktor, alone and glum, is not comforted by the company of a fellow scientist at a hextech exhibition party. not until you mention taking him home, at least.

🔥Take My Hand by @zerun0 (Viktor x Y/N (Female) ❤️Ivy & Iron

❤️💢🔥The Prophecy by @lokidjarin-7567 (Viktor x You)

summary: When the friend of your youth, Viktor, sees you still living in the Undercity, and working in a strip club at that, he is determined to reconnect, and rekindle a childhood friendship that was rooted in something more.

Late Night Studying by @amaranthine-apollo

Asymmetrical Symphony by @sweetflanfiction (Viktor x gn!reader) pt2 pt3 pt4 pt5 pt6 pt7

summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Across the River by @am-i-interrupting

summary: After the explosion and disappearance of Vi, you take your little sister across the river to Piltover. You struggle to keep the two of you afloat but manage to get Jinx to the academy. This is where she procures an internship that changes your lives.

🔥❤️‍🩹Viktor x Reader by @bluecookies02 🔥Sub!Viktor x Reader

squeeze you in by @foolinafable (Viktor x reader)

summary: Viktor barely has the time, but he makes it for you

Take A Break by @unoislazy (Viktor x Reader)

summary: Viktor doesn’t want you to be like him. You’re taking a break and you’re gonna like it.

viktor x assistant!reader by @visbacktatto

❤️[4:24 am] what are we? by @aaksuitac

Can you feel anything? by @meownotgood

🔥A 'Quick' Experiment by @supernovalcholism (VIKTOR x GN!READER)

summary: After a long day working in the lab all day, Viktor and you find an anomaly. Another hour in the lab with the man you loved so dearly? Another hour couldn't hurt! Time for science!

Unspoken Rivalry by @supernovalcholism pt2 pt3

Early Morning Whispers by @harbinger-of-enmity (Viktor x GN Reader Drabble(?), brain dump(?)

🔥Keeping Him Company by @grugruel (Viktor x f!reader)

Personal Pigments - Cadmium Yellow Deep Hue by @thefandomsfervent (Viktor x Reader) Burnt Umber (Part 2) Ultramarine Light (Part 3) King's Blue Light (Part 4) Venetian Red (Part 5) Carmine Red (Part 6) Oro Scuro (Part 7) Burnt Sienna (Part 8) Lavender Tinted Gesso (Part 9) Quinacridone Rose (Part 10 - This is now a JayVik (and eventually Mel) x reader fic.)

summary: Heimerdinger forgets to warn the science bros that an artist is coming in to visualize them and Hextech, a collaborative program between a Piltover art school and the academy for some new hall meant to be unveiled at an upcoming progress day. Large paintings can take years to do, with Hextech’s promising growth they are to be started in a preemptive manner.

💢For You, Always by @narnian-neverlander [Viktor x GN!Reader]

summary: You press your forehead to his lightly and whisper your thanks again, and “What you did was more than enough. You will always be more than enough.” He tightens the arm still looped around your waist and pulls you impossibly closer, the hand on your face slipping to the back of your neck, mirroring you. This is how things have always been between you two and how they should stay: clearly caring and loving, yet a certain line never crossed.

strawberry wine by @fushiguro-megloomy (modern au!viktor x artist!reader) 🔥After the Distance

summary: prompt - “if somebody were to kiss me, i’d want that person to be you”

The Handsome Assistant by @galactic-magick (Viktor x Reader) ❤️A Proper Date (Part 2)

summary: You keep running into the handsome Dean's assistant, whom you find you have a lot in common with. You develop quite the crush, and things get a little messy when your friends find out about him.

🔥💢(feel) whole by @kismetre

summary: ⤷ : in which you make viktor (feel) whole. and hope. and human.

May You Never Forget Me by @inkinflux (Viktor x gn!Reader)

summary: Viktor replays fond memories with his newfound power, though your memory refuses to allow him such peace.

💢❤️🔥Can you do that for me? by @grugruel (ruined!Jayce x f!reader)

summary: Formerly partners, you've started a new business in Zaun after Jayce's disappearance. One day, after hearing whispers of Victor's apparent evolution, Jayce shows up unannounced.

🔥i. wildflowers by @zevrra (jayce x reader x viktor) 🔥ii. wildflowers together 🔥iii. wildflowers forever

summary: you and vik get caught “messing around” in the lab by jayce; who surprisingly wants to join in on the fun.

🔥viktor x reader x jayce by @zevrra

summary: fem!reader and jayce help vik “focus” for a speech!

Lab shenanigans by @the-odd-shu (Jayce/Viktor/Reader) (POLYCULEEEE!) Hey Hextech, is it gay to cuddle your co-workers? (Part 2)

summary: A thread following the chaotic trio that is, laboratory illustrator!Reader, Viktor and Jayce being unsupervised in the lab.

❤️pick me up, lily flower by @vieoeil-riae (steb/gn!reader)

summary: your low blood pressure takes you down most literally, but your lovely boyfriend is medically trained and in love with you

steb/mage!reader hcs by @vieoeil-riae

I see you more, more, and more by @vieoeil-riae (steb/gn!reader)

summary: Steb, the romantic

🔥must be dreamin' by @vieoeil-riae (steb/fem!reader)

summary: despite having a strong sense of duty, steb is still as easily distracted by you as he was years ago

🔥take you down with me by @vieoeil-riae (steb/fem!reader)

summary: Both of you think the other might have died in the battle for Piltover, so you get emotional and fuck in a broom closet when you see each other again. Sounds fair, no?

🔥get clean, get dirty by @vieoeil-riae (steb/fem!reader)

summary: in the crescendo of a flirt, you finally push the right buttons to put steb's fantasies of your wet body under his touch in motion

🔥how good it feels by @vieoeil-riae (steb/gn!reader)

summary: the thought of you is enough to make steb break his own unspoken rules

🔥˚₊‧꒰ა❤︎ Il faut être deux... by @neuvilette-tea-party (Steb x F!reader)

summary: You get home, excited to visit the Montains like you are sure Steb does each year for his leave! But when you discover your lover, you realize you're going to climb something different...

Lovesick by @dulcecita-luzita (Steb/Lovesick Reader)

summary: You are utterly, hopelessly, and irrevocably in love with Steb.

Lovesick!Steb by @dulcecita-luzita

summary: Steb is consumed by an overwhelming love!

Softie by @dulcecita-luzita (Steb/Softie Architect Reader)

summary: a cool steady architect turns out to be a hopeless softie.

You get injured. by @choas232 (G/N! Reader x Steb)

summary: What was supposed to be a simple club raid goes horribly, horribly wrong.

❤️(eventual🔥)Le Coeur by @moonstrider9904

summary: The owner of a lovely and coveted coffee shop in Piltover falls in love with the Vastayan enforcer who keeps watch in her shop's surroundings.

💀🔥Ma Meilleure Ennemie by @nyxs2 pt2 pt3 pt4

summary: Silco was at his limit. The last few days had been a whirlwind, made worse by Jinx's eccentricities, which Sevika couldn't control. He was exhausted, his nerves on edge, so, as if it were the most obvious solution, one of his subordinates suggested that he relax… in a brothel. The idea was so offensive that Silco almost killed him right there. But in the end, there he was and unfortunately or fortunately you are the lucky one who will serve him.

[canonically-asexual]

I want to say something about the whole "Taako losing his beauty" discourse and I hope this makes sense because I don't know exactly how to say it.

A lot of people were disappointed that Taako didn't have to sacrifice his beauty in Wonderland, and I get it. It's a big moment in the the Taakitz reunion and character growth for Takko, etc etc. But here's the thing. And I want you to really think about this.

If you were Carey, how would you have drawn that? What features would you have changed or removed or added to indicate to the reader that Taako is no longer beautiful?

Because whatever your answer is, you're basically saying that that trait is inherently not beautiful. And people who have that trait are not beautiful.

So if you would add, say, dark circles under his eyes, you're saying that people with dark circles aren't beautiful. Scars on his face? People with scars aren't beautiful. Smaller eyes, maybe? Wrinkles? Acne? Shorter hair? Asymmetrical features? The stand you're taking is that those features negate someone's beauty.

And yeah, I get it. It would be about Taako's insecurities. Its not that those things are inherently unattractive, it's that Taako worries about them being unattractive. But it would still suck to be reading a book you've been looking forward to and see them call out something you yourself are insecure about as an indication of "losing beauty."

And that's not the McElroys brand. At all. They very deliberately didn't describe Taako's appearance when this happened, just the emotional impact it had. You can't really convey that the same way in graphic novel form. How could they have done it in a way that wouldn't make any of their readers feel shitty?

I think it's ultimately for the best that it was left out. The emotional impact of that singular moment wasn't worth the possible side effect of them inadvertently calling some of their fans ugly.

[serpentface]

Two Wardi 'unicorns', the hippegalga and the scimitar deer. These are distantly related ungulates who both happen to produce a single horn

The hippegalga is a tiny antelope, about the size of a hare. It has a very broad range and can be found across the region and beyond, settling mostly in shrubland, savannah, and wooded areas. Unlike other closely related species (these are basically dik-diks and exist elsewhere in the setting) they form large, loosely structured herds and breed rapidly, commonly producing four offspring at a time.

The horn is a permanent growth, and occurs directly in the center of the skull. It develops in both males and females (though is much smaller in the latter) and serves some practical function in scratching at bark to mark territory (in addition to scent deposits- rubbed directly into scratched bark from the eye gland, and left as piles of dung).

Their horn is worn as an amulet in many parts of the region (either intact or carved into a phallic shape) due to having strong associations with male fertility, as well as apotropaic functions more broadly associated with imagery of genitalia. One Wardi slang word for the penis is derived from this animal's name ('galga').

They experience hunting pressure for their horns, and their meat is regarded as a delicacy, but most populations are stable. They adapt well to densely populated and developed areas, breeding prolifically in ecosystems depleted of predators. A large, stable population exists in the city of Wardin. These particular animals are semi-tame and frequently fed by humans, and are socially protected from hunting (believed to be living good luck charms and just SO charismatic and cute). Their only real day-to-day threats are the city's (much less beloved) population of feral dogs.

---

The scimitar deer is the only native deer to the region, and exist in two major, isolated populations (remnants of a wider population from when woodland and savannah spanned across most of the region's north). One population exists in the wooded regions of Greathill in the northwest, and a larger population in the oak forests to the northeast (and beyond).

Their singular antler is shed seasonally and grows bigger, longer, and more curled with age. The antler grows asymmetrically on one side of the head (usually the left), though this is only slightly off-center on the skull and does not significantly impede balance (outside of old bucks with very large antlers). Some bucks grow a set of two antlers as a mutation (with one side being substantially smaller than the other) but this appears to be unattractive to females and such animals breed at a decreased frequency.

Bucks in rut may clash antlers by interlocking them at the fork, but these battles are low intensity- their antlers are relatively fragile and not well suited to prolonged shoving matches. The antler is a visual display first and foremost. A buck will show off to does and intimidate rivals by tossing and bowing his head at an angle to display its size and length.

In Greathill, traditions widely hold that these animals are supernatural in nature and herded like cattle by the mountain's 'wildman' fae-folk. They often appear in folktales as prized, magical herds, with stories centering on great raids of the deer as the ultimate and most valuable livestock (being immune to disease, able to be milked like cattle, ridden like khait, and capable of plowing fields with great speed).

[xander-wolk]

FE Engage redesign series: Lapis, Alcryst and Citrinne

Design notes:

For Lapis I wanted to show in her design that she's a village girl; and that even tho she tries to hide it, people can usually tell pretty quickly.

Also, Lapis' are blue, so I made her blue🤷🏻

Honestly, the Brodia brothers have some of the best designs in the game! I don't actually think Alcryst needed much changing, but I still wanted to give him my own spin!

Since he's an archer, I went a little lighter on the armor. I also tried making him look a bit more lanky with slumped shoulders; then the change to his promoted class, which is more bulky and stable, will be more drastic to show his character growth!

I wanted to bedazzle Citrinne a little more to emphasize her wealth and family business. But she's also fun and playful, so I made her design more asymmetrical as well!

[thedancingemu]

Twig Imps are a sort of "cousin" to Moss Mites. Budded from large old growth trees in areas with high levels of ambient magical energy (or from trees with roots deep enough to tap into underground reservoirs).

Less detritivorous than moss mites, young twig imps reconnect with the mother tree in the day time, sharing nutrients. As they get larger, they will eventually grow their own roots, which they bury in rich soil and photosynthesize during the day, emerging at dusk to wander the forest margins and glades. They rarely spend the day in the same spot twice.

Spooky luminous eyes and a nocturnal habit have given them a reputation as ill omens in some places, despite being generally harmless. Though they can be an inconvenience when they choose to root into roadways and garden plots. Most consider it bad luck to hurt them, so they are usually left alone. They will usually be gone and out of the way by nightfall anyway. They might knock some of your stuff over on the way out though. Or leave holes in your yard/garden. Or park themselves in the middle of the road all day...

They do not reproduce by dividing the way moss mites do, budding from mature trees is the only known method of bringing new twig imps into the world. They continue to grow very slowly though their lives, and rare specimens are said to become quite large. They are known to mimic humans and animals in the way larger moss imps do, but twig imps are more likely to be asymmetrical in shape.

[bethanythebogwitch]

Wet Beast Wednesday: hermit crabs

There are some animals in this series that I relate with more than others. I kind of envy hermit crabs. I would love to have a hiding place I can carry around and retreat into to avoid social interaction. I'd keep some books and headphones in there. Hermit crabs are also an example of the internet's favorite part of evolutionary biology: carcinization, the tendency for many animals to evolve a crab-like body plan. Contrary to what some people seem to think, carcinization is something that happens in crustaceans only.

(Image: a hermit crab. It is a crustacean with a bright red exoskeleton with white spots and spikes. The head (with antennae and eyestalks), pincers, and two pairs of legs are emerging from a mostly white, conical snail shell. End ID)

Hermit crabs are over 200 species of decapod crustaceans of the clade Paguroidea. They are more closely related to squat lobsters, king crabs, and porcelain crabs than they are to true crabs. What sets hermit crabs apart from the other decapods is their asymmetrical bodies and soft abdomens. the soft abdomen is a major weak spot as it leaves the body vulnerable to predators. In order to protect themselves, hermit crabs have adapted to live inside of the shells of other animals, usually snail shells, but the shells of other molluscs have also been used. A few species have evolves out of the need for snail shells, such as the terrestrial coconut crab. King crabs (which are even more crablike than hermit crabs but still aren't true crabs) may also be a subset of hermit crabs that became even more carcinized and lost their soft abdomens. The relationship between hermit crabs and king crabs is an open question and a source of some pretty fierce debate. The abdomen is flexible and curls up, but is asymmetrical, usually bending to the right. This is so it can fit in the curling shell of a snail. At the tip of the abdomen are appendages called uropods that grab onto the inner column of the shell. The front part of the crab, including the head and legs, do have a protective exoskeleton. Of the 5 pairs of limbs, the rear two remain within the shell and hold onto it, the next two are used for walking, and the frontmost pair are adapted into powerful pincers. When a hermit crab retreats into its shell, it can use the pincers to block the entrance.

(Image: a mostly white hermit crab without a shell, seen from above. Normally hidden in the shell are two pairs of small legs and a long, soft abdomen that curves to the right. End ID)

The availability of shells is of vital importance to hermit crabs. They not only need local snail species to provide shells, they rely on the snails dying naturally or being killed by the type of predators that will leave the shell intact. A crushed shell is of no use. The availability of shells acts as an upper limit to the local hermit crab population. If there aren't enough shells to go around, those without them will die. The crabs don't just wear the shells, they remodel them. Through the secretion of chemicals and physically scraping at the shell's interior, the shell is hollowed out. This reduces the weight and increases the available shape in the shells. Remodeling is usually done by young hermit crabs. The shells last much longer than their inhabitants and the same shell can be used by generations of crabs. As the crabs grow, they will need to replace their shells. A shell that is too small stunts growth and can prevent the crab from retreating into it. A shell that is too large can be too heavy to move. Hermit crabs will fight each other over the best available shells. They will also attempt to steal good shells from other crabs. The attacking crab will grab onto the defender's shell and ram shells together. This continues until the attacker gives up or the defender leaves its shell. Hermit crabs have been known to form a chain of vacancy. When a crab finds a shell that is too big, it will wait for others to show up and do the same. Once one crab fits, it will abandon its former shell. The process will then repeat with the newly vacant shell until many crabs have traded. Shell fights and vacancy chains usually happen with the same species, but will occasionally occur between different species.

(Image: a pair of white and brown hermit crabs engaged in a shell fight. One hermit crab has climbed on top of the shell of the other one. End ID)

Hermit crabs are known to associate with other species of animal. Some species have a mutualistic relationship with anemones who grow on their shells. The anemone gets a place to live and transport while predators for the crab are warded of by the poisonous anemones. A genus of hydrozoans (tiny, anemone-like animals) called Hydractinia has evolves to live almost exclusively on hermit crab shells and are commonly called snail fur. On the other hand, barnacles or too many or too large anemones, can make the shell to heavy or too lopsided for crabs to use. Some species are known to tolerate the presence of small worms or amphipods who shelter in their shells.

(Image: a white and brown hermit crab in a large, white shell. On top of the shell is an anemone, which is a red, fleshy, flower-like animal. End ID)

While the vast majority of hermit crabs are marine species, there is a freshwater species (Clibanarius fonticola) and 17 land-dwelling species. These species spend their lives on land and only return to the water to mate and lay their eggs. All of the terrestrial species are members of the family Coenobitidae. 16 of those are in the genus Coenobita. The other one is Birgus latro, the coconut crab. While the other terrestrial species still wear shells, the coconut crab has a totally different lifestyle. This giant can get a legspan of 1 meter and weight of 4 kg (9 lbs), making it the largest terrestrial invertebrate. Their name comes from their habit of climbing palm trees to knock down coconuts, which they eat. While mostly herbivores, coconut crabs will hunt small animals and scavenge meat. They are also known for being curious and for stealing shiny objects, which gives them the nickname "robber crabs". Juvenile coconut crabs do wear snail shells, but as they grow, their abdomens harden, allowing them to live without shells as adults. Also, despite the meme, Amelia Earhart was probably not eaten by coconut crabs.

(Image: a coconut crab climbing a tree, with its head facing down. Its anatomy is similar to a hermit crab, but the abdomen is much shorter and has an exoskeleton. The crab is a dark brown color. End ID)

Hermit crabs of many species are kept in captivity as pets and in public zoos and aquariums. Terrestrial hermit crabs are more commonly kept as pets due to their easier care requirements. They are often promoted as easy pets that don't need much care, but misinformation leads to a high death rate and poor quality of life. Many species are marketed as living only for a few months when they can actually live over a decade with proper care. Hermit crabs are also notoriously difficult to breed in captivity, so they are usually harvest from the wild. This is leading to population crashes among popular pet species. Outside of the pet trade, there isn't a major fishery for the crabs outside of use as fish bait, though coconut crabs are edible and sometimes caught for food. Major threats to them include habitat loss, bycatch, and snail deaths resulting in fewer available shells. There has been a recent rise in wild hermit crabs using bits of trash such as glass bottles, plastic waste, and even light bulbs. These substitutes are less effective than shells and can injure or kill the crab as it tries to move in or out of them. Dead hermit crabs release a chemical signal that alerts other crabs to the presence of an available shell, which can result in the same piece of trash killing multiple hermit crabs. As of February 2024, 10 of the 16 non-coconut crab terrestrial species have been seen using waste instead of natural shells.

(Image: a brown hermit crab. Instead of a snail shell, it is wearing a plastic pipe elbow connector. End ID)

[cripplecharacters]

hi!! I have a character I created when I was a teenager who I am currently revamping for a new project, but I am stumped for how to fix a big mistake I made at the time. I based this character's appearance on my best friend in high school, who had a growth disorder/facial difference.

at the time, I asked him how he would describe himself in writing, and his examples were phrases like "a boy with a malformed jaw" or "misshapen fingers". I recognize that if this were his own project, he would be totally allowed to say whatever he wanted about a character who had his disability, but I am not a person with a facial or limb difference, so I feel like I need to change the phrasing. I would ask him for his opinion again, but he passed away a couple years ago, so it's not possible for me to find out what he'd like me to change.

I still want to include this character and make it clear what he looks like, because it's important to me that I represent him in my writing in some way. However, I don't think he was misshapen or malformed. I don't know what words I can use instead to communicate exactly how he appeared, and I'd really like some insight for how to describe him appropriately and with the respect the friend this character is based on deserves. Please help!

For reference, the character we designed had a mix of both our disabilities' symptoms, and we did not give him any specific diagnoses at the time because of this. The character used a wheelchair because I did, the character had crooked fingers and uneven legs because he did, the character was nonverbal because we both were, had an overgrowth of tissue on his face because my friend did, and the character was epileptic because I was. I am not sure how relevant all of that is, but I figured I'd include it. Sorry if this ask is rambling, I am trying my best to be detailed

-🦴🏴‍☠️

Hey!

I don't think it'd necessarily be wrong to describe your character as such if the person he's based on used that as his self-description. I probably said this somewhere on this blog before, but I always think that “a character with less than perfect terminology portrayed well” is much better than “horrible representation, but they used the 'proper' term”. And if that's what he said about himself, this might just be the “proper” term in this context.

But I do understand that you might want to go another way, especially considering you said that you didn't see your friend as having something malformed or misshapen about him - so how did you see his differences? Maybe “a boy with 'an overgrowth of tissue on his face'” - as you described in the last paragraph - would work?

In writing, I generally think it's helpful to be more specific than not when it comes to character descriptions. So you could get more technical (all random examples);

“an asymmetric lower jaw, with the right side larger and protruding forward,”

“had a left leg that was slightly longer, with the hip tilted upward,”

“his fingers bent towards the other ones, curving like the letter C and overlapping with each other at the tips,”

or, you could go halfway, using the words that your friend used himself;

“he happened to have a malformation on his jaw; a soft mass decorated his chin throughout its length,”

“crooked fingers, each having a slight bend to it.”

If you decide to go for the original terminology, I would expand on what exactly the reader is supposed to imagine by it - there are a few ways to not have a facial difference, and a billion ways to have one. You don't need to go into way more detail than you do for other characters, but it'd be good to be informative enough so that the reader doesn't end up wondering “malformed in what way?”. In my opinion, “overgrowth of tissue” (or any other wording that would provide this amount of information) would be completely sufficient for this role.

I will also say that “malformed” and “beautiful/handsome/adorable” are by no means antonyms as words. One can have a disfigured nose that's incredibly cute, misshapen legs that look great in shorts, or an attractive malformed jaw. That's very much doable in writing, and would help here with making sure you're not portraying it as negative in some way.

There is also the option of using more medicalized terminology (“hypertrophied”, “clinodactyly”, etc.) but it might both not be the most comfortable to use, as well as confusing to some readers if there's no other descriptor given. It also might be awkward in writing, especially if that'd be the only time this kind of terminology would come up. But if you're up for this;

“the clinodactyly on his hands caused the fingers to curve toward each other,” or

“the hypertrophied tissue stretched from his left earlobe to the chin, with freckles adoring it along the way,”

or something along those lines could work, I think.

I'd also try to describe other “non-difference” features as well, perhaps even at the same time. There's a ton of ways you could go about it, but the general idea is to bring up his difference as a complete non-event - something that's so normal that it's not needed to give it a separate description;

“the bright red wheelchair had one footplate set much higher to accommodate for his short right thigh,”

“her eyes were drawn to his hands, with each colorful nail making a clicking sound whenever his overlapping fingers moved,”

“he grinned widely after noticing that his facial hair has fully filled in behind the soft overgrowth on his chin,”

“the sunflower tattoo on his larger leg was still slightly red, but the cat on the thin right one already looked fully healed.”

Obviously all the examples here are random, but hopefully they will help you figure out what kind of description you want to employ.

Either way, it's clear that you're approaching this with a lot of care and good intentions and that's what really matters. I hope this was helpful, and I wish you good luck in your writing.

mod Sasza

[dark-twist-fairytales]

I did not think creating a horn analysis thing would be on my 'I'm doing this' list, but here I am!

(I've also figured out clipping and WHY WASN'T I DOING THAT BEFORE???)

Anyways, ignoring the absolute dogshit handwriting, I've had ideas about the different horns, mainly going off size/shape/type. More below, eyestrain warning (red, light blue, and purple against medium grey). If you don't want to read that, pretty horns are there above~!

NOW! I believe that there is a difference between them. In order, it goes: Tiefling (Infernal) (Shepherd as reference), Dragonborn (Taishen as reference), Genasi (Fire) (Gideon as reference), and Infernal (Abyssal) (Caprice as reference)

(This is all headcanons, you don't have to follow or agree)

Since there are two tieflings listed, I do believe there is a difference between Infernal and Abyssal horns.

Infernal have the highest area of sensitivity, numbing agents work all the same on those areas, and have the smallest amount of area that wouldn't hurt/bleed. While this does make it more painful, this leaves that tiefling horns are the most likely to regenerate on their own without the whole horn growing back.

Abyssal horns, generally, work the same way. However, the area of sensitivity is smaller and more even with the size of horn. Caprice's horns show off the way that curves effect growth: After a while, if the horn decides to turn and grow a certain way, the veins won't follow, and instead stop at the sharp twist.

Dragonborn have the smallest area of sensitivity, for a large horned humanoid. The veins only go about halfway, and have the largest area (generally) of horn that have nothing in them.

Genasi tend to have asymmetrical horns, but that doesn't change much about where the sensitivity lies. For smaller horns, it's not far into the horns itself, but the veins do travel a bit more into the horns. For a small horned humanoid, genasi tend to be like dragonborn and have the largest area of no feeling/harm.

I know, it generally looks a little weird, but I believe that the horns on humanoids, unless stated otherwise, don't act like antlers or the horns of an animal. Unless the humanoid has the antlers/horns because they're mixed with that animal (like satyr), they're like another limb on their body.

Meaning that: the horns can regrow themselves (in a way that skin can), they don't continuously grow (or, if they do, at a very very slow rate once hitting maturity), they don't shed in the traditional sense (think more of the flaking of scales), and, for the whump and smut lovers alike, it can mean more pain and pleasure deriving from the horns.

BUT!! Also patterns in the veins!! That's another difference between Abyssal and infernal: Abyssal tend to cover a bulk area of the horn, while infernal runs very straight and pointed through the whole horn, even if curved. Genasi veins are very short, but tend to be a lot. Dragonborns tend to create patterns (uniquely, like a finger print).

Anyways, horns!! Enjoy the horns!

[fashionlandscapeblog]

The blandification of fashion is very real, guys. It has been virtually impossible to find inspiring content for the past 2-3 seasons and I blame it on the rise of quiet luxury and late stage capitalism. The latter means that the fashion industry is designing as simply as possible (minimalism does not equal boring) not because of 'sustainability' as some people seem to put it, but to save on material, details. patterns, etc to increase profits in order not to go bankrupt in a system that demands increasing economic growth. The demand for quiet luxury has been welcomed by the fashion industry for this very same reason, but in my opinion, people who wear this 'trend' do not like fashion, since wearing nondescript clothing has nothing to do with style and individuality, but on the contrary: it makes you a clone. It has also nothing to do with minimalism and less with sustainability, because it is a logical fallacy to believe that absolute simplicity has a positive environmental impact, neither do the socalled 'capsule wardrobes'. You can buy a sequin skirt or something with a pattern or a very distinctive design, but if you wear it all the time, it is far more sustainable than a Loro Piana cashmere sweater you think you 'invested in', yet never wear. Capsule wardrobes and basics are a myth, as you will wear in real life what sparks joy in you the most (I'd rather wear my asymmetric tops than any 'basic' white shirt), not what a brand/influencer/magazine tells you to buy. Capsule wardrobes are a very individual thing based on your personality, not a cookie cutter formula. To achieve a wardrobe that you love and wear for years is a very organic and eventual process, definitely not based on what a Vogue site tells you to buy now, but on what you find yourself and love.

[askagamedev]

What are common keywords any game design resume should include?

It depends on the kind of designer position you're aiming for. We want to see key words for common tasks that those kind of designers have done. Here are some examples:

Common

Experience, craft, create, live, season, update, content, schedule, create, design, team, player, UX.

Level Design

Layout, place, trigger, volume, spawn, point, reward, treasure, quest, lighting, light, dark, texture, object, obstacle, blocking, whitebox, direct, draw, through, inviting, space, place, multiplayer, competitive, cooperative, co-op, deathmatch, capture the flag, ctf, domination, asymmetric, symmetric.

Quest Design

Text, reward, spawn, balance, level, pace, pacing, word, budget, localization, loc, narrative, item, itemization, dialogue, branch, spawn, difficulty, player, multiplayer, encounter, placement, place, trigger, chain, pre req, pre-requisite, condition, scripting, faction, seasonal, event.

Cinematic Design

Narrative, camera, character, blocking, screen, position, ease-in, ease-out, pan, cut, smash, storyboard, frame, framing, beat, cue, pacing, feel, shot, zoom, sfx, vfx, mark, contextual, conditional, quick time, event, timing.

System Design

Balance, numbers, formula, spreadsheet, excel, curve, quadratic, linear, logarithmic, growth, plot, level, power, over, under, even, normal, distribution, player, total, analysis, scale, scaling, script, scripting, math.

If you're at all familiar with the regular kind of duties and tasks that any of these kind of designers do on a regular basis, you'll immediately start to see how these words fit into describing what we do day in and day out. These are going to be the kind of words we see used to describe the sort of experience we expect to see on a resume/CV from someone who has done this kind of work before. We won't expect all of them in every resume, but we expect a good many of these words on the resume/CV of a reasonable candidate.

[Join us on Discord] and/or [Support us on Patreon]

Got a burning question you want answered?

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on Twitter

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on BlueSky

Long questions: Ask a Game Dev on Tumblr

Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[deepdreamnights]

The Secret Origin of Wally ManMoth

Scans from TyrannoMax #26

Cocytus was one of the better-performing comic companies outside the big 2 in the 1970s before the whole company was bought out by Buzby-Spurlock Animation in the early 80s.

TyrannoMax was its biggest title, so almost everyone in the character stable teamed up with the Dinoids eventually.

Process under the fold.

TyrannMax is created via use of Dall-E 3 and Midjourney as pencilers, and me doing essentially everything else (writing, editing, inking, lettering, layout, etc.) DE is on most of the character art, MJ on backgrounds and select characters.

Each panel utilizes anywhere from one gen/prompt (for a handful of very simple head-shots) to around 20 for stuff like the DinoHydra action shot or the hero/villain showcase panels.

Once I know what I want for a page I lay out the rough dialog and panels, then start generating pics. Basic prompt format and a few examples:

, , , , comic panel by 1968, in the style of 1968

A portly 50 year old man, resembles Alan Hale Jr, jolly smile, wearing a tweed jacket, slacks, sandals, a fedora, sweatervest and a loosened ascot, full body character design, comic panel by Jack Kirby and Alex Toth 1968, in the style of 1968 Marvel comics

a mad scientist mid-transformation into a green anthro-tyrannosaurus, asymmetrical transformation, boils and growths, screaming/roaring, bald, portly, with round glasses. wearing a tattered lab coat, vest, slacks, tie. Comic panel by jack kirby and alex toth, 1968, in the style of vintage horror comics

Then I take the pics into PS, arrange and composite them, and then remove all the color. I don't tend to prompt for my final colors on characters and instead choose light tones I can easily extract. Why not just do B&W prompts? Style impact.

Then I start to re-ink over errors and details that don't match the mood I want, match line thicknesses over various elements, etc. Through this process I adjust dialog placement and panel arrangements, and do generally the things and editor and letterer would be up to.

Once I have the inks, flat colors, and the text on various layers, I do the weathering and compositing to simulate scans of a 1970s comic book. This is also where the deliberate flaws in coloring and print alignment are added for authenticity.

[lilcowzia]

I completely agree…lopsided fat growth is super hot…I love the asymmetrical nature of a body that has become “too” obese for the fat to go where it was meant to. I also agree, large over elbow hanging arms are incredible. You need to get some of that…and more back fat.

i pray for more arm fat every dayyyy, i rlly need more fat all over tbh

[bodybeyondstories]

dicks keep growing around me - 8 (Miguel)

After Myron's growth spurt, Miguel takes him to his tailor for a wardrobe update. Late for work, and still pent up from their recent activities, Miguel finds a surprise piece of Myron's clothing in his bag, and just like Ty, he faces explosive consequences.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 (Previous) | 9 (Next)

male TF // growth // dick growth // pec growth // bubble butt // nsfw

4908 words

(I was inspired to play around with some pec growth by this ask a little while back. It was fun!)

---

“Do these make my butt look big?”

I struggled for words. “I think we left ‘big’ behind a long time ago,” I said, watching Myron check himself out in the dressing room stall, clad in a pair of chinos with a cartoonishly oversized waist that still managed to strain against his cartoonishly oversized butt cheeks. His curvy form being reproduced three times in the tri-fold mirror lent itself to a funhouse effect, as if he could step out and instantly return to the sensible, pert bubble he once had. Not that I would ever want that to happen. Having his already ridiculous monster booty inflate in real time while I was inside him was one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me personally. It took everything in my power to extricate myself from between those cheeks this morning and my dick jumped against its triple security confines at the thought of once again getting to bury my face in that posterior. I knew I was an ass man but even this was beyond my wildest dreams. I was addicted.

Myron wore his stretchiest–and really only–option out of the house, a pair of plaid leggings that didn’t so much hug his curves as fight for dear life against the beach ball buns spilling out of the waistband more and more with each step. He tied a light hoodie around his waist to at least hide the top of his pink bikini briefs, though it didn’t do much to mitigate his ass from being on display. He even had a minor struggle fitting into my car, adjusting and readjusting the passenger seat to accommodate his long legs, tree trunk thighs, and voluptuous bottom. Another potential problem to solve.

“I’m seeing a lot of elastic waistbands in your future,” said Val, studying Myron’s physique with a scientific eye. Val had been my go to tailor for years, long before these changes had made it nigh impossible to shop for pants at a normal department store. She ran what she called a ‘gender expansive menswear experience,’ always looked the definition of dapper, and specialized in catering to a plethora of unique body types. She was also very down to give us some special attention on this slow morning after I explained Myron’s situation. “Oh I love a challenge!” she had exclaimed over the phone.

And Myron was a challenge she jumped to as soon as we walked in. As he suffered through a stack of ill-fitting slacks, jeans, trunks, and at least one asymmetrical short skirt that worked surprisingly well, she vocalized an ongoing calculus of fabric amounts, hip to waist ratios, and design patterns that might emphasize or de-emphasize his wild proportions. She was in the zone, whipping around her tape measure with a professional flair and handling Myron’s body with a gentle, open intimacy that he seemed like he grew to appreciate.

As we left the store, with not exactly success, but at least some options–and a set of new tailoring projects for Val to dig into–I noticed more confidence in his walk. I couldn’t tell if it was the awkwardness of his sudden growth spurt or the weight of open stares from onlookers, but he had seemed deeply self conscious on our way in that was thankfully fading on our way out. Between his wildly upsized lower body and my freakish bulge, we were both letting go of the luxury of blending in. We held hands and rolled with it. 

We got back to his place with just enough time to make some coffee and get me into some professional clothes before running off to the office. I had barely shut the door before Myron spun around and planted his hands on the wall on either side of my head, looking hungrily down at me. It was weird seeing him from this new angle, his gentle, inquisitive gaze falling over me like a protective cloak. I was already liking this new dynamic. “Thanks again,” he said, and leaned down for an indulgent kiss. 

“It’s the least I could do with all the trouble I’ve caused,” I said, then returned the favor and pressed my lips against his. My hands rested on his hips like they were always meant to be there. I caressed the expanse of one ass cheek, still marveling at its sheer size, while he cupped one of my pecs and gave it a hearty squeeze. I moaned, louder than I meant to. They were so sensitive lately, and felt uncomfortable in my shirt. “But,” reluctantly breaking the kiss, “We’re both late for work. You want coffee?”

He waddled off in mock dejection as I slipped into his room to get dressed. I had a few versatile options stashed away in his wardrobe. Did my clothes really occupy an entire drawer? When did that happen? I was already running late, so I arranged something basic and reasonably business casual, though all my shirts felt a little tighter than I usually liked. I guess I wasn’t the only one making some gains in the gym.

By the time I returned to the kitchen to get beans grinding and the kettle on, Myron had whipped off everything except for his bikini briefs and proceeded to station himself at his standing desk and boot up his laptop. I envied whatever work from home contract gig he had most recently stumbled into and his resultant freedom from spending the rest of the day with multiple layers of constrictive fabric. But really my eyes rested longingly on the briefs stretched tight against his prodigious ass, my dick jumping in my sweats as he hinged his hips back and rested on his elbows.

“Just coffee?” he asked. “You’re not hungry?” We locked eyes and he gave his ass just enough of a shake to set off a tremor of jiggling cheek.

“...Well I’m already late.”

—

I moseyed into my office already dreaming of the next time I would have the privilege of eating the juiciest peach on the planet. I settled onto my exercise ball and opened my email, seeing if anything was on fire in my absence. 

A lazy knock on the door was followed by the shaggy auburn mane of Wes peeking in.

“Missed you earlier,” he said, with that easy smile. 

“Right, you were washing today! Yeah, I had kind of an emergency with my…” What were Myron and I? I don't think we'd had a chance to discuss it yet. “... with my, um–”

“Oh dude, don't worry about that,” he laughed. “That's not why I'm here. I actually just need your old key to the maintenance rooms in the basement. I'm updating the locks. I don't know if you saw my email.”

There it was on my screen, fourth from the top. I was one of the lucky few to be trusted with maintenance access, a responsibility I held sacred and never actually used.

“Of course, yeah yeah yeah,” I said, digging through my bag and pulling out not a key but a pair of very familiar crumpled underwear. I shoved them into a drawer before Wes could notice. How did those get in there? I continued digging until I finally produced the item in question.

“Thanks man.” He grabbed the key and gave me a fist bump. His knuckle tatts spelled out R-E-A-L. I wondered what the other hand said. “I'll, uh, see you out there,” he said, glancing towards the windows, then winked and slipped out the door.

These days, my dick turns into a faucet at the slightest hint of arousal, which truth be told is effectively all the time, so I usually pack a backup or two of my specially-fitted underwear to slip into so I don’t end up awkwardly cleaning precum off my desk chair. But I guess with all the weirdness that morning, I had accidentally grabbed Myron’s used briefs from yesterday’s incident at the gym. Which was weird because I didn’t remember rooting around in his hamper for this specific piece of clothing.

Just like I didn’t remember pulling them back out of my desk drawer and holding them just close enough to my face to catch a whiff of Myron’s compelling musk. Ty really did have a point, I couldn’t help but admit. My face had just been buried in Myron’s ass, but there was something magnetic about these residual pheromones. My dick jumped in anticipation.

Too early for this, I thought. I dropped his drawls in the bottom drawer, the one full of miscellaneous files with the janky handle, and closed it with finality, resolving to get through the rest of the day without distraction. I only had my one outfit to last me through the rest of the workday, and I wasn’t in the mood to sneak out with my pants soaked in my homemade lube (again). The realization that I missed my usual ‘appointment’ with Wes came with the realization that after all the festivities last night and this morning, I still hadn't cum. As much as I enjoyed servicing Myron and the Giant Peach, I was pent up, and so used to my exhibitionist dynamic with Wes that I felt I couldn't clear the pipes unless he was out there washing the windows. I had missed that opportunity. My balls began to churn with overproduction, frustrated at being teased multiple times in the past twelve hours with no relief. My dick felt heavy. Heavier than usual.

My whole body felt pressurized. My crotch had grown hot and constricted, but my shirt had followed suit. It felt so tight across my chest, my extra sensitive nipples delighting in the increased friction. I got up to stretch and clear my hand, pacing around my office and taking in the view of the surrounding high rises reflecting a clear sky belied by herds of thunderclouds rolling across the landscape miles away. I looked down to check my phone and instead saw that I had Myron’s underwear twirling between my fingers, just inches from my nose. When had I pulled these out of the drawer? But I turned around to see it apparently untouched. I unconsciously brought them closer to my face. They had a scent that was magnetic and threatened to occupy all my sensory attention. I breathed deep, indulging in the smell of him, warmth resonating across my body as I fantasized about the next time I could bury my face between those cheeks.

I know. I should've seen this coming.

I was jolted back to reality by a short, staccato knock on the door. Not fully closed by my last visitor, it drifted open to allow Josh, our comms specialist, to lean in with one quick motion into a scene, not of me working at my desk, but meandering around my office with my nose in his former co-worker’s panties. In the half second I had available, I snatched them from my face, and, with no other immediate options, shoved them into my pants.

“The intern workshop is starting now, almost out of donuts,” he said with a wink. Intern workshop was an out of date misnomer from when Josh first started with us and was mistakenly referred to as the intern far too often. Largely because of a youthful, eager demeanor and the crime of being chronically online. Occasionally, we start our all-team meetings early with a social media, marketing, and PR update from him. He tells us what's trending that month and I bring my basket full memes that I need explained. I had forgotten that this was one of those days and relented at his insistence that I tag along with him to the conference room, following him into the hall with Myron’s briefs hidden in my pants, a light tingle beginning to spread across my groin.

Hindsight. 20/20.

“Dude,” he continued in the hallway. “You've got to tell me your routine, your chest is looking great. Wish I could fit a workout in before work.”

“Oh, I didn't make it to–” I self-consciously grabbed my right pec, “--the gym this morning…” It felt noticeably juicier. Like I had a good pump. A great pump.

I dutifully followed Josh's perky bottom to the conference room, eyes fixed on the swish of his hips in his fitted pants. Everyone in the office had an oddly nice ass, for reasons unknown to anyone but obvious for me, but Josh's tight, perfectly round posterior was always a sight to behold, and always showcased in expertly tailored pants that fit like a glove on his short, svelte frame. I've always wondered if he also frequented Val's doorstep.

Everyone was already settled in the conference room (they were out of donuts), and I grabbed the last seat around the table, toward the back, right near the door. Josh did his thing about the latest social media strategy and I tried to maintain some semblance of professional decorum, keeping my gaze on the slides on screen and not just the bubble butt flitting back and forth at the front of the room. But I was still pent up, my balls churning with stronger intensity and my dick feeling heavier and heavier in my pants, not like it was getting hard but just gaining a deeper, stronger presence. I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, leaning forward and hinging my hips back to provide more space along my leg. My midsection began to cramp as the tingle in my crotch turned into a generalized heat. My chest felt packed against my shirt, my nipples sending little shocks of pleasure with the slightest movements against the fabric. I felt overstimulated, hit by a full body malaise with an undercurrent of sticky sweet pleasure.

Then it clicked. I had seen the clip of Ty's latest growth spurt and got to witness Myron’s incident up close and personal. My heart pounded with the realization that Myron’s powerful pheromones were likely incubating in the warmth between my thighs. I began to have anxious visions of what that meant, of what could happen in the chaos of having an episode in the middle of the office. I imagined myself bursting out of my clothes, my chair collapsing under me, the table being flipped by the force of a superhuman monster cock. 

The cramps got stronger as I became increasingly hot and uncomfortable in my own skin, fighting against every item of clothing constricting my body. I tried to wait it out, think peaceful thoughts, hold myself energetically together. I thought I could psychically wrestle my dick into stasis until the meeting ended and I could triage the situation. But what is Bruce Banner to the Hulk?

My dick lurched. Didn't get harder, just took up a bit more space. I bit down angrily on my pen to keep from letting out a moan as I felt, vividly, the head sliding against the fabric of the pouch. My pants felt like they were shrinking around my crotch. My body was so uncomfortably hot, eliciting shivers down my spine and along my limbs. And why was my shirt so tight? 

But Josh was rolling with his presentation (and that ass was keeping me enthralled). I reasoned that I could at least relieve some pressure for the time being. I reached up and undid the first button at my collar as casually as possible, only to find the second locked in place by the pull of the fabric. When did this shirt become so small?? I awkwardly finagled it while trying to put on my best active listener face, but right when I was finally about to succeed, it was simply gone. The relief from a slight decrease in pressure along my chest mixed with terror as I saw the button sail across the room and land in someone's coffee. 

I froze. Josh froze. Miraculously, no one else noticed. He continued with his presentation and I resolved to form an escape as quickly as possible. My mind was filled with visions of what had happened to Ty and Myron, and as hot as it is to see someone grow in real time, this situation truly was not safe for work. Something serious was brewing, and by the pressure building in my balls, it was going to be messy. I had to find a bathroom or risk a scandal.

I carefully closed my laptop, mentally rehearsing my graceful exit in which I stand up, surreptitiously cover my bulge with my computer, and moonwalk out of there to take care of business. As I rose to my feet, I came to the chilling realization that I had underestimated the sheer size of the appendage distending my pants, hurrying to cover as much as possible with my modestly sized laptop, but not before Josh’s eyes locked on.

“So I really think this target audience could make for a good pipeline to…um…a pipeline…a pipe…” he stammered, on the verge of speaking in tongues as his eyes widened in disbelief, coming dangerously close to bringing the attention of the rest of the conference room to my predicament.

“You’re doing great!” I exclaimed, cutting him off and turning smoothly toward the exit. “Can’t wait to discuss implementing all of this, soon as I get back.”

I sped through the door and down the hallway, stopping abruptly at the makeshift signs printed and taped to the bathroom doors. “Out of order,” I whispered, anxiety spiking as the crotch of my pants bulged outward a little more. 

Downstairs! I thought. The single stalls on the ground floor materialized in my mind. I whipped around to find the elevators and slipped through the doors with my laptop still awkwardly situated in front of my overpacked crotch. To my dismay, a gaggle of interns scrambled on one floor below. I squeezed as far as I could into the back corner, and pressed my laptop against the furious bulge that was steadily becoming impossible to hide. It had to be at least five degrees warmer in there from the heat radiating off my overexcited dick. It lurched again. My hair stood on edge, pecs strained against my shirt as I fought back a moan of arousal and dismay.

By the time they got off on the ground floor, I was too terrified to move, convinced that the slightest increase in friction could send me over the edge.

“You heading back up?” asked Larry, the bright eyed receptionist who appeared from around the doorframe.

“No, I, uh, need to go check something downstairs,” I lied. “We’ve been having some electrical hiccups in the office.”

“Oh that’s the worst,” he said, holding his hand against the elevator door frame as he continued to recount the building’s litany of outages and anomalies. He was effectively holding me hostage.

“Oooof,” I whispered as my dick surged forward yet again. I was heading towards a nuclear meltdown.

“Right, right, duty calls,” he said, finally relinquishing his hold and letting the doors close in front of him.

I nearly collapsed out of blessed solitude. I let one hand drift down to investigate the area, eliciting a groan of shock and pleasure. My dick felt big. I mean yes, it’s painfully obvious to myself and the general public that I’m packing something serious down there. But it felt bigger than it should. Bigger than it felt less than an hour ago. Like it was echoing the essence of bigness on some metaphysical plane, gathering energy around it across multiple dimensions to emerge like Godzilla from the ocean and lay waste to the–

What the fuck am I talking about? My blood circulation must be cut off. I needed to get out of those pants. The slow drop of the elevator seemed to go on and on, what felt like far beyond the actual height of the building. The walls were closing in, the metal box shrinking around me as it fell through space, the seams of my shirt straining against my chest as what felt like every bit of fabric shrunk with it.

The elevator doors opened on the brutalist liminal space of the basement. I was pretty sure there was a bathroom down here, likely one significantly, dearly private. The only person I knew of who had any reason to be down here was–

“Wes!” I exclaimed at the cloud of auburn hair that popped up seemingly out of nowhere, toolbox in hand.

“Funny running into you here,” he beamed, giving the scruff on his chin a scratch. “Welcome to my office!” He splayed his arms wide, gesturing warmly to the concrete and fluorescent lights.

“Happy to be here,” I managed, attempting a gracious smile as the beads of sweat on my forehead hinted at the crisis at hand.

“Where you headed?” He asked, sidling next to me and hovering one finger over the number pad.

“Look, Wes, I actually need to run to the bathroom, the ones upstairs were all–”

“Out of order, yeah. Whole building is. It’s the issue with the plumbing, did you read the rest of my email? Folks have been heading to the coffee shop next door, I think.”

“Aughh,” I whispered, bracing a hand against the wall. My dick lurched again. Angry and boiling hot, it was all I could think about. That and the feeling of my shirt having somehow shrunk several sizes too small. I couldn’t focus. I couldn’t breathe. I barely string words together. My nipples perked up in response to a cool sensation. I looked down to see two wet spots spreading slowly. Fuck, my chest was swollen, what was going on? I looked like I had the greatest pump of my life. What usually could pass for decently toned pecs were starting to resemble disproportionately juicy slabs of muscle. I could’ve sworn they were inflating slightly with each breath, each involuntarily twitch of muscle. But I didn’t have time to speculate further as my abs contracted hard and I doubled over in pain.

I wasn’t going to make it to the coffee shop. I wasn’t going to make it to the useless basement bathroom. I wasn’t going to make it off this elevator.

“Yeah, sorry dude. If it’s an emergency, maybe I can–oh…”

“It’s…it’s too late,” I eked out as my dick lurched even farther down my leg, the sound of stitches popping filling the space of Wes’s stunned silence and my heavy breathing. My shirt grew tighter and tighter with every heartbeat. I felt air against my midsection as it slowly revealed my treasure trail, heard the slow tearing of seams along my shoulders, the periodic ping of buttons flying off and hitting the metal walls. I gripped the door frame with inhuman force. “It’s happening.”

“Wh-what’s happening?” Wes had grown visibly concerned. “What can I do?”

“I can’t…hold it…” my face a contortion of pleasure and pain.

“Can’t hold what?? Should I call someone, or do something, or…” He stepped closer, his eyes entranced by the dark circles against my shirt. My pecs had swollen so large they were blocking the view of the baseball bat tearing apart the stitches of my pants. He held out his hands in support. “Maybe if I just–”

“Wait, don’t–” My head lolled back as the pressure along my leg finally became too much to bear and was suddenly replaced with lovely, catastrophic release. The seams gave way and my ungodly beast was freed from its cage, swinging up in a diagonal and catching Wes’s cheek with a mean left hook. He spun around like a ragdoll, landing unceremoniously against the wall.

My prodigious cock, furious and rock hard, bobbed in front of me at a distance that was hard to make sense of. I stared down in terror at a pipe that extended at least a few feet into the air, still managing a slight upward tilt despite its weight. It was too girthy to wrap both hands around. I felt my heart pounding through the massive vein that ran along the shaft. I briefly forgot about Wes lying unconscious on the floor as I gazed in shock at the tree trunk growing from my groin. With one final, monumental shudder, with the last dregs of my mental capacity, I wondered, Did I beat Ty? And came like a firehose.

The force of the first two blasts were enough to knock me off balance, my knees buckling as I fell on my ass. My hands gripped either side of my shaft as if I had any ability to mitigate the cum cannon bucking wildly from my crotch. I painted the ceiling as every muscle fiber of my body worked in unison to fire off each volley of jizz. I was dimly aware that my muscle tits jiggled with more and more heft as my body shook with every shot. I could feel the mass of them expanding across my torso, my sensitive nipples rubbing against what was left of my shirt before that too fell to tatters against my growing muscle tits. But I was gone in a deluge of orgasmic bliss, my brain burned hollow as some untapped reservoir of sexual energy sprung forth. As I lost any sort of mental coherence, I felt like my corporeal form might simply disintegrate into the pool of cum forming around me. I was moaning in sweet release and unrelenting ejaculation.

Countless ropes of cum painted the walls until my never ending orgasm finally let me go, and I collapsed next to Wes. After a minute, he came to, and turned to me with a dreamy smile on his face.

“Can we do that again?” He asked.

The elevator doors opened. And there was Josh.

—

“Hey Miguel, I was looking for…you…” he drifted off, taking in the scene. Me, sweaty and kneeling in my tattered pants, holding Wes’s shoulders to prop him up against the wall with what looked like a black eye on the way. I mused internally about how I should’ve reviewed the office first aid training materials for the exact protocol for a penis exploding so suddenly in size that it accidentally causes a potential concussion. I made a mental note to schedule a training for the entire office soon.

“Shit, uh, just wait outside for a sec?” I asked, putting on my best everything-is-totally-fine smile. It didn’t work.

“Woah, what happened?” asked Josh incredulously. “Were you attacked? What is this on the floor? What is…that…” He seemed to be mentally connecting the dots as he gazed horror struck at the semi-hard, adrenaline fueled dick resting on the floor between my legs.

I could hear footsteps and voices approaching. We’re back on the ground floor! Without any other recourse, I pulled him into the elevator and started smashing the button for the basement. The doors closed just in time.

“I'm so fired, I'm so unbelievably fired, no one has ever been more fired,” I said, my fingertips pressing into my temples as if I could telepathically will all of this away as a weird, horny dream. I began to rock back and forth until I was halted by a firm clasp against my bicep. I looked up to see Wes's meaty forearm, his sparkling green and gold eyes. 

“Deep breath,” he said firmly. “In…” His eyes fluttered closed then looked into mine, imploring me to follow. I took a tentative breath in through my nose. “And hold.” He held. “And out.” I sighed through my mouth until my lungs felt deflated. “OK, again, you too,” he glances at Josh, who looked less terrified and more uncomfortable about the faux pas of stumbling into this intimate moment. “In.” Josh took large gulps through his mouth, chest heaving up. “And hold…and out. We'll work on your technique.”

He turned back to me. “I’ve seen weirder things, man. We'll get it sorted. And you,” looking pointedly at Josh, “can't tell anyone about this. Scout's honor.”

“H-hell yeah,” he said, flourishing an awkward salute. “Anything for the Window Wanker.”

“Did you just come up with that?” Wes chuckled. “That’s good.” Josh looked on in mild confusion. 

“The last thing I need right now is a nickname, but we can workshop it,” I offered, trying to make light of the situation.

“No, it's just that…” his brows furrowed. “That's you, right? Window Wanker. Online.”

My spidey senses tingled. My hair stood on edge.

“What do you mean ‘online?'” Wes inquired, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“Like, it's one of my favorite accounts,” said Josh. “I usually don't go for fake hidden camera scenario type stuff, but I've been hooked.” He perked up in enthusiasm. “The fact that from across the street, you can see how huge that monster is…” His utterance of monster was barely a whisper as his eyes turned to the up close monster laying between my legs. “Respectfully,” he added with a shy smile.

“Across the street…” I repeated, just as Wes said “...fake hidden camera…”

“I mean,” Josh continued, “I could tell you were packing for a while, I have no idea how no one else is talking about it. But I didn't know you were Double W.”

“Okay,” I blurted, wincing at the hitch in my voice and letting the elevator settle into a heavy silence, interrupted by the steady smack of globs of cum falling from the ceiling. “Okay. I need to know all about this now.”

Window Wanker. Ty's gonna love this.

[nobredoesart]

Continuing my rant about the elves and restructuring them, here are the 3 other missing races!

Sunfire Elves: I do mostly like the designs of the Sunfire Elves, but I did want to reduce the amount of armor and layers a tiny bit, maintaining the accessories and gold accents, while making the clothes more flow-y and vibrant. With that in mind, the Arcanum of the Sun is a very interesting one, because the show does nail it, but it doesn't explore well enough what that would mean for those who have it as an intrinsic part of them.

So, we get to it. Truth, Life, Destruction and Eternity are the core tenants, and they shape how the elves operate. It's not quite that Sunfire Elves can't lie, but the idea of it is almost alien to them, to the point of causing genuine discomfort. Reality exists and one is meant to live it truthfully and with passion. Monuments litter the streets of Sunfire cities, filled with attempts at eternity, shining beacons of who existed, along with the destruction of that which is offensive to the truth and reality itself. Sunfire Elves are a stubborn lot, and their society proves it, believing in justice with little bending, in strong work done well and lives of passionate creation honestly achieved.

Warriors, farmers, artisans and smiths are very well known within the communities, of course, but the petty squabbling of nobles can get in the way.

It's not uncommon for most other Elves to see Sunfire as kinda stuck up pricks, but that is because they do not understand that the elves of the sun would rather break than bend, no matter the cost, and they will rend asunder all that stands in the way of truth and good.

I do like the Sun State from the show, but I do want to add that in Sunfire Community, it's seen as a purer state of being, and used in rituals, ceremonies and even things like courting rituals. Sunfire Elves also passively heal quicker, and have an almost debilitating disgust over being up in the long hours of the night, as the lack of sunshine drains them, and makes them feel unclean.

Earthblood Elves: Gods, do I love the concept art for these, but hate how the only ones we see in the show lack the awesome elements. So, I am choosing to lean hard into the concept art, and then adding more detailing.

Before getting into how their society works, let's talk design. Earthblood elves should have a way more earthy appearance, with stone and dirt being part of their designs, as well as leaning into them being part of the nature that surrounds them. They have little clothing, choosing to usually trim their natural growths to be "decent" and tend to actually look deeply asymmetrical, as the earth is very rarely so standardized. Their horns/antlers are also affected by this, having wild designs and growths, from stone to moss to leaves to many other things!

The idea that Earthblood Elves are passive and against confrontation in canon is also mildly annoying. However, I understand where it comes from, so I am changing it so the motivation fits within the Arcanum of the Earth, which will touch upon Tradition, Growth, Connection and Endurance. It is slightly different from Canon, as are the other slight tweaks to the Sources, but this one has a bigger impact in how the Elves work. Earthbloods have an inherent connection with the world around them, be it the land or the people, with an almost magical sense of empathy, which tends to lead to them serving as great pillars of support within their communities. They also value the soil, the earth beneath their feet, and all those that came before them and worked it, as traditions and that which was are to be held as sacred, like the roots from which a tree grows.

Due to all this, stirring the growth of their community, without ever forgetting their roots is important and necessary, as is a more, grounded set of beliefs. Their lack of confrontation stems from the understanding that people will grow on their own, and that brutality happens in nature, and they should not intervene unless a big calamity would destroy the true center of something.

As for their innate magic, while the whole Earth State they go into that we see on Terri is interesting, I like the idea that it's different. That they go fully stationary, that they turn into a tree or a stone golem, something that doesn't move, but makes things around them grow and fortify and spread. They also just, can feel the ground and trace the roots of mountains and rivers and forests, helping them out in the wilds.

Oceanbound Elves: Why the hells are they named after Tides? No. That is ridiculous. So, they're renamed to Oceanbound, and they are going to get weird. Most of the elves of this race do not actually live on land, or even close. They live in sprawling underwater cities, in chasms deep and vast, in coral reef colorful and grand, with their Arcanum being quite different from the original, appealing to a more eldritch concept, and to more Deep rooted ideals.

So, onto design. I do like the concept art sketches, and, tolerate some of the designs of the show, but they could be so much more! The ocean is such a beautiful hostile space, and so, the elves that dwell within it are something to behold. Coral horns, jagged or smooth, colorful and deadly, sprout either from their heads, covered in tentacle like hair, curling and moving unnaturally. Their eyes seem dead, or overly hazy, with no visible pupils for most of the elves, though more surface dwelling ones to tend to have faint ones. Their bodies are covered in scales and rough textures, fins and elongated tales that vary from elf to elf, with their colouration varying wildly!

As for their clothing, they tend to wear none, or simple decorative leathers made from cephalopods, or leviathans of old, or garments found in ship wrecks. Whist this mostly applies to the underwater communities, most surface dwelling Oceanbound Elves do find clothing to be restricting if not meant to be decorative!

The Arcanum of the Ocean is complicated. All things are born of the ocean, all things will end in it, and its currents are ever shifting but old and true, so, the tenants of the Arcanum end up being Unbound, Eldritch, Beginnings and Inevitability. It's an arcanum that feels old, and those that feel its call have a weight to them that very few can match. Ocean Dragons I'll expand on more later, because I have opinions on that too, but Oceanbound Elves work primarily within the understanding that all things are eventually theirs, that the world is older than most realize (them and Startouch Elves are the most long lived races, living for over thousands of years at times), with a twisted understanding of reality and the sort of eager view of the world of one who is seeing something doomed marching on in spite of it all. They tend to be a very nostalgic race, loving beginnings and neverending concepts, but not thinking far ahead aside from the fact that it will inevitably be theirs to claim.

Death is seen as a distant dream, and the surface as an alien blind land that doesn't quite understand the history of all that came before it. It's also just, sort of funny to them, and the most adventurous of the race do tend to make their way up, breaching the tides to lurk around with their surface pears and see what the world forgot.

Their magic is old. Old and impossible in scale, in an unexpected way, but so is most Ocean Magic. The inherent one is that they can simply shed some of their existing elf like traits to become more monstrous, alien and full of teeth and slime and coiling muscles, bulging eyes and size. They are a dangerous race, but they are some of the few that recall the good of humanity still, with most having lived alongside them, and still choose to sail the seas in ports hidden and passages found.

They are eternal, and they are the beginning heralding the inevitable deep.