portectorisms

[sharkenedfangs]

— ☆ “PRETTY BOY.”

— expect the worst when whitney has a stupidly, dumb puppy love crush on his upperclassman that happens to be you and even more so, when you predictably take notice of it. but, remember— he asked for it first, didn’t he? 3.5k w.

— warnings? yeah, mildly dub-con, handjob in broad fucking daylight, somewhat exhibitionism although no one gets to see the stupid, pretty boy squirm and upperclassman male reader who’s sort of.. a bitch. y’know the drill by now, plus a younger whitney (still an adult, no worries. I’m not into that sorta shit.)

Like a clueless moth instinctually drawn towards a burning flame, he’s no goddamn different than the clingy idiots who can’t seem to automatically take a hint when given so in their direction— y’know, the ones he’d audibly snicker and scoff at due to the sheer embarrassment, disgustingly obvious puppy love streaked along their flushed faces as they mindlessly follow the other’s every move. Innocently peer up in search of their crush’s approval like some sort of brain dead dog whose sole purpose is to joyfully please their master. Hell, it’s gross, and the blonde doesn’t make it any more difficult to showcase his wrongly placed dislike for it— yeah, by the repeated gagging noises spilling forth from his open maw.

“It’s nauseating to watch, stinks up the whole room with those big, puppy, doe eyes”— he’d openly say with an absent shrug of his broad shoulders, glinting, barely visible glimpse of the metallic barbell freshly pierced upon his curved tongue proving his judgemental statements to be otherwise.. fuckin’ hypocritical, no? ‘Cuz, isn’t that same piercing found in his mouth done due to one, single, stray comment you aimlessly made by chance?

Not like your liking of things plays a grand role in whatever he does, trouble he’s immediately roped into, fuck— no, definitely not! It’s a stupid, damn coincidence is what it is, nothing more and nothing less either. No need to uselessly pry any further in the meaning of his baseless actions. Just.. happened to have it done on the same consequential day you confidently expressed your idea that he’d get one because— y’a said it’d look good on him, didn’t you? And, look here, he fuckin’ did it like some cheap mutt. Obediently parted his rosy lips for your viewing pleasure to willingly prove to your pretty eyes that he truly went along with your absently made suggestion, for real. Gleefully hung upon your every important word like his life depended on it— god, it isn’t like that, okay?

An upperclassman he’s briefly looked up to is all you are, all you’ve ever been for that matter, and he’ll punch the shitty, fuckin’ lights out of any big mouthed idiot who dares to say so otherwise. Right in the guts for spouting out complete, nonsensical bullshit, alright?

Or is it time to reluctantly admit it with a bashful blush apparent upon his contorted features— accompanied by gritting teeth stubbornly grinding together in a futile refusal of his shoddy, unwanted sentiments burrowed deep within his stuttering heart? As if he’d ever would in your presence, which he possibly can’t help himself, to childishly imitate your gestures in the withering hopes that’d you scarcely notice his thinly veiled efforts, acts filled with meaning.

Well, well.. Whitney, the supposedly cold and untouchable bully here isn’t so unique nor different from those idiotic dumbasses he’d routinely poke fun at, huh? Time to face the embarrassingly evident reality set before him, whether his gaze dares to instinctively stray away or not from the unsettling truth— ah, good thing you’re here to seamlessly guide him on the right path, ain’t that right?

As for the so-called, morally ethical path he’s hopelessly talking about.. Perhaps, that’s a plain, ol’ lie he’ll repeatedly tell himself of so considering your shared reputations at hand. More likely than not, often referred to — as much as the nickname itself has the tip of his ears prickling scarlet, noisily yelling at the fuckers who cheekily name him that — your little, dumb puppy. Fuck, he’s not! The day he, himself, Whitney of all people, wordlessly bows down to the height of someone’s heel frustratingly grinding atop of his head, is the day one can loudly claim with unbridled conviction, that he’s officially lost his goddammit mind, that’s what.

Listen, you’re the one who faithfully promised and guaranteed your unwavering protection if he stuck to your sides like some fuzzy pet, so he did the obvious choice. Specially when met with the shitty conditions this rundown town, definitely shady for that matter, is. Rather be silently stamped as the ‘sly follower’ who went along with the smartest choice presented to ‘em— your offer, by the way — than some nobody seamlessly forgotten on the dirtied streets. Least, that’s what likely replays on and on in his mind like some cheap, broken record to dumbly convince his unmoving mind of what this annoyingly persistent feeling is deep within the pit of his quivering tummy. Annoying, ain’t it?

Speakin’ of tummy, you sure are touchy-feeling with him, aren’t ya? Not that he necessarily minds nor will outwardly admit the slightest shivers that comes to grace the entirety of his figure when met with the briefest grazes of your fingertips flush against his bare skin. Likes the physical contact intimately shared between you two? Fuck no— just keeping himself on your good side in case you were to suddenly discard him like you habitually do with your other.. nameless toys, which he doesn’t possess enough fucks to bother learning their names. As long as your flickering gaze doesn’t happen to stray too far from his, he’s actually, pretty content.

‘Course, it did progressively start off with the sorta things you’d absentmindedly do with your numerous friends. Brush of his golden strands glimmering against the gleaming sunlight— shit, even acted out like some cheesy rom-com at the way his face instantly heated up, glimpse of vulnerability you seem to so easily catch on with him and fuck, does he detests it— truly does like no other. Still, lets y’a carelessly stroke your fingers throughout the mess of a hairstyle the delinquent wears, even fucking.. tenderly pushed a single, stray strand of hair behind his burning ear. Shoulders instinctively drawn up in sheer defence at the tension residing within him because, really, how do y’a expect him to relax and ease up when it’s with you?

“What? What is it? Do I have shit in my hair or somethin’?” Oh yeah, nice goin’ on that fuckin’ stupid question of his, huh? Flush adorning the length of his face— god, even down towards his neck too— immediately deepening at the crude choice of words. Might casually speak so with anyone, but when it comes to you, he’s got this instinctual urge to not come off as some try-hard desperately trying to butter you up in hopes of your returned approval of him.

“Hm? It’s nothing, I just think you’d look cute if you grew out your hair a little bit. Don’t you think?” Ah, and there you go— with your surprising compliments spoken out of the blue like that.

“Cute?? Are you seriously tryna fuck with me right now?” Defensive mechanism or whatever to draw up that blank conclusion since this is just about the first time any sort of adjective resembling that of ‘adorable’ by the way, could’ve been made to plainly describe a rowdy, unrelenting boy such as Whitney.

“What? You don’t think so? I think you’re cute as shit, Ney-ney.” That fuckin’ nickname again, god. Quit it, will ya? And, don’t try to tentatively lean closer in his personal space when calmly making that stupid remark too! Your goddamn— ah, hot breath effortlessly heating up the shell of his ear, curled lips almost, insistently pressed against his cheek. “Real fucking cute, actually. Definitely cuter than the average boy that’s for sure— prettier too, but you’ve got too much of a stick up your ass to admit that, don’t you?”

At this point, you’re practically taunting him, and he would’ve unabashedly swung his fist if it weren’t for that said person being you. Grin cracking upon your lips at the doe, wide-eyed look he’s greeting you with, seemingly unable to utter so much as a word to that uncharacteristically depraved statement, or is that your idea of a damn compliment to another guy? Shit, that’s right! Both guys is what you two are— so, his cock hidden underneath the fabric of his ripped jeans, languish legs lazily stretched out along the creaking, wooden bench, shouldn’t be stirring up with peeked interest at the mind numbing prospect of endlessly being called ‘pretty’ by you. Nor profusely encouraging the alarming amount of translucent pre-cum dizzyingly forming at the swollen tip of his cock head, crudely staining the material sheer. Give the blonde a supportive head pat while you’re at it, too. Ah.. should be saying somethin’ right about now lest he wants to appear as some bashful fool.

“I don’t—“

“Yeah, yeah. You don’t swing that way, I know. I’m not hitting on you, I’m just telling the truth as it is. Got any idea how many guys would line up just to fuck your dirty mouth? Maybe your tits too, if they’re into that sorta stuff— shit, I think they’d go for the ass too, definitely. I could make a goddamn fortune just whoring out your pretty, slutty body to the old fucks at the pub, y’know that, Whit?” Endless chattering on and on, explicit details of how some grubby old men could be here, disgustingly groping his flesh instead. Yet, that lingering glimmer within your gaze, noticeably darkening in return at the mere idea of it as your thumb comes forth to idly tap at his blazing cheek.

“But, you know.. I don’t. I won’t. Not cuz’ I’m a nice guy or anything— hah, truthfully, I’m no better than them for wanting to ruin a pretty face like yours.” You’re.. god, he can’t keep up with whatever shit you’re nonchalantly spouting, gracing solely his ears to be the one to silently listen to this.. crap, can’t really say it— fluttering in his tensed stomach from your bold admission, depraved wants just as much as he does late at nights— wanting to fuck him too.

“Honestly, do you know why I don’t use your sorry fuckin’ ass, Whitney?”

If he’s meant to attentively keep up with your words by now, then his brain has happily shut off due to the dizzying amount of semi-insults, degration and somewhat praise shot in his way. Like he’d fucking know, shit!

“See, it’s cuz’ it’s real funny to watch you trotting ‘round my side like some dumb, fucking puppy begging for its owner’s attention. I give you just a bit of praise, and your doggy tail would start wagging if you even had one. You look so goddamn stupid that it’d hurt my conscience to sell you out like this. And, I don’t like it when other fucks touch what’s mine either. I’m not running some gracious charity, am I?” To be truthful, if you tirelessly keep up with that incessant spouting, he’s bound to boil over like some screeching, burning kettle considering.. the obscene amount of scorching heat riddled across his features currently, adorning his cheeks so stupidly — and prettily too, huh— crimson red for your unwavering gaze solely. Seems like you’re liking the rare show in front of you quite a bit, aren’t you?

Stunned would’ve been one of the few lacking words remaining in the thick, daunting dictionary to scarcely describe the absolutely idiotic expression he’s nicely sporting right about now.

“Shut up.. I’m not—“ Fuck, fuck, fuck!! And, how the simple concept of verbal speech dutifully fails the bully at a time like this. Great going there, fuckin’ dumbass! Visibly seething would’ve been the most reasonable reaction in face of this, but— but— fuck! Entirety of this crap is all too quick for his sluggish mind to steadily keep up with your unpredictable actions, pathetically keening with a drawled out curse— no, more like a high-pitched whine is what it truly sounds like, once your calloused palm gingerly strips him free from his relatively loose jeans in one fell swoop.

“What the fuck’re you doin’—?? Mmph, fuck.. don’t—“ Dumb question to be asking when the self-evident answer is plainly in front of him.

Weeping cock, flushed in the cooling, outside air, naturally springing forth out of its constricting confines to audibly slap against his bare rigid tummy. Aw, now ain’t that real pretty to witness? Timid, twitching cock profusely leaking out sticky pre to messily smear along the curve of the blonde’s stomach, which you promptly do the honours for him, unabashedly too.

Always been pretty confident in your audacity to joyfully serve people, haven’t you? By god, he’s half-hated ya for meddling with others private businesses to begin with, although his throbbing cock being so smoothly tended to can say otherwise, idly disagree with his withering logic. Shakily sighing, puffing out heated huffs of air as your so— fuck.. annoyingly warm and soft hand loosely tucks ‘round his fat cock, teasingly squeezes him down at the base. Meanly drawing out more pearly globs of his dribbling pre-cum with a resounding, wet squelch!, undeniable proof of his shared arousal at the newfound situation he’s unfortunately finding himself in.

‘Unfortunately’— one says, funny that you see right through that by the mocking nature of your barking laughter, sharply ringing within his ears.

“My, who’s the exact fucking pervert here, Whit? Y’seem pretty hard to me. Actually, you’re dripping wet down there, y’know that?” No fucking shit. Ready to single-handily cum from a single, measly stroke of your fist snugly wrapped around the veiny girth of his quivering length— fucking hell. Head instinctively thrown back to which you soon wistfully take advantage of, ‘course you would, wouldn’t you? Lazily pressing hot, heated kisses along the sharp edges of his jawline that soon has the same bully, known to be so very resistant, stifling wanton moans, firmly clasping a palm over his gaping mouth in a heedless effort to remain discreet as possible. Slithering, pink tongue laving and tracing over the heated shell of his ear, ushered snickering coupled by bouts of utter filth being so brazenly whispered towards him. And your canines— ah, are not helping at all either. Grazing the bobbing curve of his throat, delicately sucking a bruising mark upon the tanned skin to pridefully admire over later. “Nnh— no, fu— ah, uuckk! N-Not there, you bastard!!”

“Not here? What’s the matter, Ney-Ney? Can’t fucking speak properly when your pretty, pink cock is being stroked off like this?” Would’ve scornfully refuted you, barked out the meanest curses that would’ve had an elderly woman shockingly clutch her pearls if given the chance, but stealing a discreet glance down to humiliatingly witness how sticky and wet his tip has gotten, messily stained your palm in a string of creamy, white pre is not.. Possessing way too much pride to do so. “Y’see, you like this— hah, fuck— you like it when I actually take what I fucking want from you and ruin you down to this cute, little, slutty mess, yeah?”

“I-It’s not like that—“ Uncharacteristically meek protest on his part. Cat got his tongue, ‘s that it?

“No? Pretty boy. Use your words, will you?” Oh, fuuuuckkin’ god. Seeing sheer darkness as his eyes reflexively roll backwards to his skull from casually being called ‘pretty’ by your lulling voice.

Have any idea the way your hushed words dizzyingly affects his fuzzy brain? Renders him alarmingly stiff like a stoned statue, wobbling knees surely bound to buckle beneath the weight of your relentless taunting, all the while being boldly jerked off in broad, fucking daylight — hidden amongst the rustling bushes of the park, mind you — still, very much in an open space where one can be so easily seen by oncoming passerbys. And even then, the absolute control you possess over him, sneakily snaking your arm ‘round his middle, relishing in the little, heated gasps hurriedly rushed out of this dirty, fucking perverted bitch of a blonde’s mouth is too way goddamn much for him to precariously withstand another tortuously long second of this shit.

Yeah, one more minute? He’s fucking busting by then.

“What’s the matter? Can’t keep up? Gon’ shoot your filthy load soon, ‘s that it?” Mild disinterest lacing your very tone with a slight hint of, what’s that..? Actual anticipation? Hah, as if he can barely discern between the mind buzzing layer of reality set upon him when coupled by your soft— so fucking warm, shit.. hand relentlessly fisting him dry, milking every thick droplet steadily trickling forth. Uncaring for the accumulated mess below you both as his hips instinctually roll forward against the rewarding palm of your curled fist, sickeningly jolts at a noticeably harsh press of your padded thumb atop his oozing tip. “Well, then.. Go ahead, I’m not stopping you, am I?”

“Cmon, pretty. Paint my hand all sticky and nice for me, yeah?”

Predictably so, as the uttered rumours had notably confirmed— how downright desperate Whitney’s always apparently been for you to the damn point that he’s automatically cumming on command like a dog patiently withholding for its owner’s words and oh, was it fucking worth the extensive wait. Stifled whimper weakly slipping out, fingers immediately latching onto the comforting feel of your forearm lazily slung around his quivering figure for proper support. No use in making a fool out of himself by clumsily buckling down to his slacked knees— not that he hasn’t already, though too late to be thinking about it twice, huh? Thick, sticky strings of his hot seed directly shot out of his pulsing cock and into the air to, as expected, pervertedly dirty your open hand in a mess of his load which is kinda.. hot, no? Fuckin’ get ahold of yourself, shit! Minus the rest having uncontrollably splattered downwards onto the ground, pitifully traced in a puddled mess of droplets.

And somehow, the barely discernible hint of a relieved breath tumbling from between his parted lips. The natural conclusion that this is it, oncoming closure bound to take its place yet still— still, damn it; Always managed to keep the dirtied blonde on the edge of his toes, haven’t you?

So, truly, it shouldn’t have came off as an unexpected shock then, how you so brazenly mumble a stuttered curse beneath your puffed sighs at the melting sight. “Ah, fuck.” Swiftly freeing your fat— well, admittedly hefty cock for his following eyes to shamelessly gawk at in turn because, y’know.. fuck, he won’t outright voice it, but the sinful glimmer in his wide gaze says it all. Innate itch, unadulterated need— god, to merely sling down to his knees, sloppily drool all over your tasty-looking cock and coat it all shiny and wet with his spit. Although, too busy admiring the rare glimpse of your contorted features strained with pure, unrestrained concentration to bother paying much attention to the repeated, distinct fapping! noises of your cock being so hurriedly stroked raw, as if in a hurry, almost.

Furrowed brows deepening, lashes fluttering in their wake as your rosy lips that he’s known time and time again to be nonchalantly formed into a grin— now, so prettily stained crimson by the harsh press of your teeth against your puffy, bottom lip. “Don’t— ugh, fucking look at me like that.” You audibly groan out in the mix of a huffed chuckle. Slightest flush delicately dusting your cheeks a pink hue, so damn pretty too. “Hah, it makes things kinda awkward, y’know?” Ah, takes less than a stretched minute for his brain to acutely process what’s hit him before given the proper chance.

Something hot— and sticky too, actually it’s pretty evident what it should’ve been if he wasn’t so goddamn brain dead within this bleary moment. Splattering amongst the already present mess you’ve both collectively made of yourself, thick ropes of sweet cum landing right upon his rumpled uniform you’ve taken a gleeful joy of permanently ruining. Judging by the cackling laughter soon drawing forth outta ya thanks to the sheer, dizzying sight of the cum-stained mess he’s forced to pitifully endure for the time being.

Look what you’ve done, god— even if you manage to be one step ahead of him, as always, in such a predicament as the delinquent merely receives a thrown jacket straight in the face. “Sorry for ruining your nice shirt of yours, I couldn’t really help myself when you looked so dumb like that. Take it as an apology, alright?” Exhaling out shakily in the chilling air suddenly alarmingly cold without your warm weight shifted against his own, too deliriously fucked out of his mind to muster up a rightful remark to your cheaply made one. Dumb, little ol’ puppy is what he is to you, no?

And perhaps then, it’s the idiotic absurdity of your actions, swiftly turning away like the encounter itself hadn’t even taken place right at this very spot. Footsteps progressively fading amongst the rhythmic crunches of fallen leaves fluttering down from the withering trees, gaze tentatively flicking downwards to where your stupidly soft, discarded jacket rests within his arms. Meaningless gesture is what it should’ve been notably perceived as, though that doesn’t really help the gradual thump! of his swaying heart noisily beating against his chest nonetheless.

That’s not— oh.

Oh.

“..Fuck.”

Yeah, being wholly swallowed by the ground beneath his feet doesn’t sound so bad now, does it?

[bitsbug]

Me and a friend have been developing this conlang thing for use in co-op play, both for immersion and so we don’t need to constantly pause to type things. I call it slugsign :-)

I should note that neither of us know ANYTHING about language structure or conlanging, we just developed it naturally lol.

some grammar notes:

-’punctuation’ style signs (such as ‘question’, ’attention’, ’relax’) come before the rest of the sentence. this is for clarity of intent

-’relax’ can be used to initiate longer, more complex conversations

-signs are VERY position specific. the limitations of the medium make a lot of signs look similar, so using the right starting and ending positions are important.

-’region’ specifies which region you’re referring to by the direction of your arm waggling, and the regions adjecent to the one you’re currently in. For example if you were in industrial complex and wanted to refer to chimney canopy, you’d waggle upwards.

[ovaryacted]

I’ve been posting too much today, not sorry, so I’ll leave y’all off with this one thought.

Thinking about old man! Logan fucking you in front of the mirror and holding your knees up in his big hands as you watch yourself take him over and over again. He’ll whisper praises in your ear as your arousal spills over his length and drips to the floor, pinned to his body as you let him take and take like the good girl you are.

Yeah. Need dat. Good night fellow freaks! It was lovely having you guys tonight! See y’all same time tomorrow!

[doghart]

i’m catching up on tsv, i think something that eskew prod does extremely well is using horror absurdism to capture the absurd horror of capitalism. it’s clear in eskew too, but i think it’s especially fantastic in the silt verses. the casualness with which sacrifice is discussed. how red lobster has a god that has and continues to take human sacrifice, and so do cereal companies, cops, and the grueling start up that has a “fun room”. it captures EXTREMELY well how it feels to live under capitalism, that you’re constantly bombarded with horrible things, discussed cheerily in a nice tone. the way it’s simultaneously numbing, hysterical, and horrifying. i think i was especially fond of how in ep 39, protest against sacrifice was taken as radical, a propostorus, idealistic thing that’s just so SILLY it’s not even worth considering, something that feels very real to revolutionary organizing/protest irl. i also liked how despite the face, when everything gets down to it, when everything is about profit, all people come down to are bodies. all capitalism is a gaping maw, and it eats the poor and marginalized first, but doesn’t STOP eating just there. the very literalized version of this, where the profit wheel (and all that includes— war mongering, the prison industrial complex, wage labor, etc) is given a very real literal set of teeth, but the body count is the same. so the electric company has a god, and so it takes humans sacrifice. do real electric companies not have a very real human cost? overworked and underpaid labors looking to make rent, or well off comfortable employees no less likely to get the axe under profit margins, or the blood shed when colonizing in the first place, in clearing the space for the electric company to move in. is that not also a very real human sacrifice? the commercial aimed at elderly people talking about “back in my day, we would just talk about all this human sacrifice and find a compromise :)” is so bleakly hysterical, but is that not very accurate? that you can put a good face on it, but in the end what it comes down to is that you’re being sold the chance to be human fodder? that there is no glory or honor on a battlefield or in working yourself to death, just mud and shit and bodies to throw at problems. idk! i’m rambling but it’s a deeply engaging podcast.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

At rest, your lungs wish to deflate, and your ribcage expands outwards.

[rhiangalaxy]

Working on my Binghe designs! (Some design notes under the cut :p)

Edit: Had to reupload the image because I forgot his demon mark 😭

[ID: A Scum Villain Drawing. There are three half body shots of Luo Binghe in books 2-3, book 4 to post-canon and Luo Bingge. The left most Binghe from books 2-3 wears a tired, upset expression with less fluffy hair and primarily red and black clothing. The middle Binghe from book 4 and post-canon is wearing a remarkably happier and lovestruck expression, with much fluffier and curly hair. He is wearing a green hair ribbon around his throat, green jade earrings and light green inner robes. His outer robes are dark grey and red. Bingge is wearing an angered expression. His hair is noticeably straighter and has a small braid on the left side. He is wearing black and dark red robes. End ID]

[ID: Notes from the illustration above. In the book 2-3 version there are notes stating that his hair piece is from Huan Hua, and that his hair is less fluffy with the quote 'what no shizun does to a mf'. The second Binghe has notes that his side braids are done by Shen Qingqiu and that the hair ribbon around his neck was given to him by SQQ during his disciple days. The notes about Bingge state that the braid is from the Bingmei vs. Bingge Extra and that his hair is straightened. End ID] 

[ganondoodle]

(totk rewritten)

finally, all the arm and spirit abilities- for the first half of the game (rauru) and for the second half with the shiekah arm replacing links arms instead and the spirit abilities gained through ganondorf

(please excuse my handwriting and sometimes repeated info on the first two, i lost motivation/patience at the end and couldnt get myself to basically redo it all from scratch just to make it a bit more cleaner)

note, the camera rune is unconnected to the arm, its the shiekah stone copy link has (zelda carries the one from botw, a copy was attempted to be made for link but it lacks all runes except the camera, the map and its teleportation, and journal/archive)

note for the heal effects of some spirit abilities- im also reworking the healing system, making it more like the older games, so healing isnt as easy and much more restricted, thus making those effects of spirit abilities more valuable ( lil potion icon on the d pad will act a little bit like in skyward sword, opens your limited selection of healing items and if chosen link switches to holding it and letting you consume it with -a- while walking around in real time- to avoid more pausing and mass healing on regular items while in menu)

additional note, the automatic recharging of the magic meter depending on the environment gives you a reliable but less abusable way of using abilities and allows for even more creative dungeon/challenge design by using it effectively- it works by absorbing magic from its surroundings, so if its an area with little magic it recharges slower, if its a very spiritual or healthy place it will recharge faster, it can be used to make things more challenging and also as subtle storytelling (example, theres a graveyard with the magic energy around being off the charts, even if there are no spirits to see, it could hint at the people buried not having died peacefully, no matter what their gravestone says...)

the usage of magic and how much the different abilities cost also allows for a much more dynamic fighting style for players to choose and try out, balancing them all out with their cost instead of a fixed timer, and the recharging beign affected by the environment perhaps forcing players that favor high cost magic abilities to use the lower cost ones for example, or not being able to charge one up bc the enemy is too fast and doesnt give you enough time to charge it

about half of the small overworld dungeons (not shrines) are also locked/inaccessible for the first half and new quests appear as the second half commences- together with the additional changes raurus return brings with it (sonau buildings, enemies being mostly cosntructs that he summoned etc) and whole set of new abilities giving you a fresh new way to play while (hopefully) not making you feel too restricted for the first half

... making these detailed concepts took me longer than id like to admit q-q

[tea-cat-arts]

Shen Yuan has fandom baby energy to me. Like, his ranting wouldn't have even been a problem if he did it on tumblr and tagged it "pidw discourse" or like in a discord chat

[squeakadeeks]

yesterday when i was in bed falling asleep i got a call that the lab was about to literally explode. i didnt have time to get dressed, i could barely put on shoes and a coat before sprinting like a bat out of hell to the lab and open a valve to prevent the entire system from over pressurising and failing. girly pops i had so much adrenaline in my system on that drive and subsequent literal sprint into the lab i felt like i inhaled a kilo of high purity cocaine and i could hear my heartbeat for hours afterwards

[spaced-out-muses]

Spaced-Out-Muses — An Indie, Multimultimuse, Semi-selective rp blog featuring canon and (mostly) original muses from Tezuka’s Black Jack, Honkai: Star Rail and Persona. Penned by Kitt. (she/they | 21+)

Please read my pinned before following and interacting!

Pinned | Muses

[banicraft]

Minecraft, But the patchnotes said "Ominous" so many times that it doesnt feel like a real word to such a point that i could be easily convinced that Jeb Underscore himself invented the word

[crysdrawsthings]

Me: I shall be normal about Warframe

Also me: Corpus Macdonalds with beanie kavats

Also me: One Orange Braincell Chroma

Also me: Kela's superfan with KELA BEST knuckledusters

Also me: Noodles the Vulpaphyla

[the-abyssal-system]

Tragic, fictive has taste in music that is entirely predictable based off of his source

[clementine-kesh]

in general i’m finding sideways: the city google couldn’t buy an interesting read but the implication that los angeles’ much despised highway system is a result of good foresight instead of automotive industry lobbying and racist policies in a book about urban planning is crazy. can we be so serious. like toronto wasn’t the city that tore up its streetcars tracks cuz gm told them to

[idkaguyorsomething]

Is it weird that I am perfectly fine with Araki giving Jodio a severe mental illness but still wish he had given Jodio a different one?

sorry it took so long to answer this one, i was trying to figure out how exactly to answer it, and it turns out there's a lot of different ways:

from a perspective of representation: mental illness is an incredibly stigmatized subject, and in mediums like manga and comic books even more so, as it is incredibly common for a lot of popular plots in those mediums to go "well, x character went crazy, that's why they're evil", as well as stories in general to associate a lack of empathy with a lack of ability to act in traditionally heroic ways. jjba itself has shown that, as part of dio's initial villainous characterization involves him showing a lack of empathy towards various figures such as dario or george (although this isn't the only way his villainy is characterized, as we're also shown right off the bat that he's very deliberately cruel). with jodio being set up as more of an anti-hero, giving him more traits that could be considered unheroic as well as a commonly stigmatized mental disorder, it makes sense to not have that sit quite right. but taking the history of the series into mind, jojo's is no stranger to exploring more shades of gray in its protagonists in its past. johnny and gappy have certainly committed far greater acts of brutality in their parts, while giorno, who jodio is set up as a parallel to, outright aspires to be a head of organized crime. even josuke, who is portrayed as one of the kindest and most pure-of-heart jojos, basically condemns a guy to a fate worse than death in his first arc. this isn't necessarily anything new the series is giving us, and the fact that the jojolands is largely portrayed from the perspective of jodio himself is a massive plus, as it gives us insight into his thought processes and helps us sympathize with a character we might not have done so otherwise (telling a story from the perspective of someone doesn't necessarily ask us to sympathize with them, but things like the goofy jokes he makes with dragona, his own insight on his diagnosis, and his clear love for his family go a long way towards making jodio likeable). one could view this as the natural progression of jojos tending towards the anti-heroic while araki explores more marginalized communities he's interested in portraying, or a poorly thought out decision that furthers stigma towards said marginalized communities. personally, i think it's still too early in the story to make any real judgements, but the way i see it it's kind of similar to the situation with jolyne. she's the only female jojo, and the only one besides jonathan who ultimately fails in her quest at the end of her part. there are narrative and thematic reasons for doing so, but it doesn't sit right with a lot of people, and that's perfectly fine.

from a medical perspective: according to the dsm 5, a person must fit at least three of the criteria for antisocial personality disorder in order to be diagnosed as having it, most of which jodio does fit. failure to conform to social laws and norms (he's a teenage drug dealer), deceitfulness (when barbara ann asks him where he is and if he's hanging out with paco, he lies), impulsivity (he destroys one of the lava rocks to try and get rohan to cooperate), aggressiveness (he kicks that one fucking cop until he's a stain on the ground, twice, although he is justified in his actions and this kind of willingness to fight people is essentially a requirement to be a jojo), reckless disregard of safety (again, practically a requirement for most main characters), consistent irresponsibility (assuming what we've been shown of him is how he acts all the time, yes, although the story so far takes place over too small of a timeframe to determine that), and lack of remorse (dragona has to remind him not to get too violent in the opening chapter with the cop). so he does fit most of the criteria, but it is also a requirement that, to receive a diagnosis, a person must be eighteen or older, with evidence of having fit some of the criteria before the age of fifteen. so by real world standards, jodio would be on track to being diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder, but actually receiving it from a high school psychologist is bullshit. then again, this is the universe where the president made a cowboy race battle royale where the contestants had to collect magic body parts, so it's entirely possible that psychiatric standards in that world are just different. but you would be entirely justified in not liking his diagnosis, and there are several other disorders that fit the behavior that jodio shows. there's adhd (the impulsivity and tendency to get lost in daydreams and beating the shit out of cops), depression (the sense of emptiness he describes upon being given his diagnosis), anxiety (irritability and angry outbursts), and that's just some of the more common disorders. we haven't even gotten into some other full-on personality disorders or common comorbidities with antisocial personality disorder! from this perspective, your assessment is totally fair.

from a thematic perspective: as mentioned earlier, jojo's is no stranger to making its heroes increasingly reflected in shades of gray, and parts seven and eight especially make a point of contrasting their protagonists with their respective foils from parts one and four. johnny is a paraplegic gringo jockey twink that murders people so hard his friend the executioner had to tell him to slow down, in contrast with the jacked and kindly gentleman jonathan who impressed a stranger so much with his dignity that he immediately joined him in his quest. gappy is a quirky lil amnesiac who beats people to death with shovels while josuke has one of the more normal personalities of all the jojos and possibly the lowest kill count. at first it might seem like giorno and jodio are the most similar duo, since they're both criminals that act a-okay with murder, but while giorno's goals and reasoning for joining the criminal underground are motivated by a sense of empathy towards the people of italy and a belief in a higher ideology that passione can aspire to, jodio is a very self-centered kid. he has a very inflated idea of his own reputation, can't spot obvious traps, and the very first thing we're told about him is that he wants to be stinking rich. he also believes in the ideology of mechanisms, but it's an ideology that is explicitly centered around gain and his own material wealth, in contrast to giorno's philosophy, which involves ideals of self-improvement and certain boundaries that should not be crossed in the pursuit of power. giorno's ruthlessness stems from a place of compassion, so having his counterpart being someone who lacks the ability to feel empathy is a really interesting choice that gives the story a lot of places to go. the fact that the other criteria he fills, like impulsiveness and irresponsibility, stand in direct contrast to giorno's ambition and planning ahead, also adds further potential for the jojolands to explore a completely different sort of crime story than golden wind. so from this perspective, i'd say that your assessment is rather harsh.

tl;dr there's a lot of different angles to approach this question from. it's 90% probably that i completely misunderstood what you were trying to ask, though, so please tell me what i got wrong :P

[mahamatra-cyno]

Is gay marriage legal in Sumeru? Would you face any issues with the Academiya for dating or marrying a man?

Sumeru is a nation focused almost entirely on the pursuit of knowledge and understanding. As such, it is well within our interests as a nation to reject nonsensical traditional views and policies. Especially now, with the corrupt sages removed from power, that has been realized in its entirety. Akademiya is expanding to the desert, healthcare is free, artistic expression is encouraged. Even then, all of the previously existing stereotypes and biases have stemmed from academic disparities, misconceptions, and influence from the people in power—rather than mass discrimination for sexuality or gender, like some other nations might face. This is not to say that some people don’t experience those biases on an individual level—they just aren’t systemic. The discrimination against desert dwellers, on the other hand, are an entirely different issue, and will likely take years to deconstruct.

In terms of gay marriage, I cannot recall such a preventative law existing in the time that I’ve been General Mahamatra, but if it had, I have no doubt that either Lesser Lord Kusanali or Alhaitham himself would have eradicated it from our legislature by now. You are free to marry who you want in Sumeru.