#then you make ur own lore

[sonicattos]

anyone else have a weird relationship with gender where your body naturally has traits of both afab and amabs because of some sort of hormonal or intersexual experience, so you’re pretty much not really getting that much body dysphoria, but still has the social dysphoria of being called your agab even though calling yourself that and certain terms don’t bother you because you don’t associate them in that way?

[mutopians]

the way im so pissed about how shitty about the minecraft movie that i want to go back to my old high school minecraft fic out of spite because i could ABSOLUTELY do the players isekaied into minecraft better than they could when i was like. 14-15 years old.

[schemelin]

every now and then i experience brief moments of self-awareness telling me to make major changes to the fusionsprunt story

[seventh-district]

not even gonna tag this properly bc i don't wanna get Involved but i do have some Thoughts i need to get out into the void so here we go

(aaa quick edit: CW for mention/discussion of Boothill leaks)

[bananasfosterparent]

[bioswear]

he's not even hiding it at this point 🤪🤪🤪

I don't think Adam and Eve are specifically One and Brother One incarnate but they do have way too many shared traits to be purely coincidental reuse of character tropes.

[recklessmoss]

Are potbeasts an original species of yours? I’d love to make one myself but I wanna make sure I’m 1. Following any species guidelines and 2. Not stealing your idea or accidentally making a oc from a closed species

fot a short minute I considered making them a species of sorts but even if i were to I would have made to an open one most definitely, i'm not too big only closed ones and I also fully encourage people making funny little guys :)

i think in the long run i do wanna ask to be crediter but it's not smth i'm gonna make a necessity 24/7! I'm glad you liked them enough to decide to make one of ur own ❤❤❤

[mestos]

from a chara standpoint i think ppl can and are allowed to enjoy the vampire ascendant ending and direction if they want to. i mean, we all kno of power fantasies and villainious routes being extremely hot and sexy. i just find it incredibly grating ppl love to enforce the "he doesn't know love anymore bc dnd lore state that vampires don't feel emotion" like maybe for you jan but not me! my man is infatuated and adores my tav as the ascendant. sorry!

[sntoot]

finally finished something enough to put it together in a post

anyways i looked at the sky pirate raids and i was like hey what if i put a whm in there. that couldnt make things worse right

more details about them under the cut in case anyone is curious

(gron ehsk means escaped tree in dravanian)

they r born and raised in gridania, and reach adulthood as the autumn war hits. thats how old they are.

anyways time goes on and they become more of a cryptid and harder to interact with until quarrymill kicks them out and demands the elder seedseer take them in front of the elementals for some kind of punishment. the elementals dont give a shit bc gron was doing everything correctly for the forest, just not the people

so they get banished from the shroud by the elder seedseer and head to coerthas instead. they get branded a heretic pretty quick from having horns and offering to teach the lowborn conjury, so they end up in anyx trine with vidofnir and the dragons there. the dragons there give them their new name and they stay there for a while. the dragons think they r a funny little guy.

after the calamity they find that not only does the shroud still not want their help but the people of coerthas also dont want them around, and even when they offer the highborn conjury they r rejected for obvious reasons (heretic). they r chased out of coerthas and end up in the sea of clouds instead of dravanian forelands, much to their displeasure

as theyre running from camp cloudtop, leofard takes pity on them and takes them to ok'zundu where the zundu are kind enough to let them use an abandoned hut a little ways off from the village to live in. the redbills find having a healer accessible is really damn convenient

leofard visits to ask them to join the redbills repeatedly and also to pay them for healing all the random injuries the pirates get, they repeatedly refuse and also make him eat vegetables from their small garden. it doesnt seem to make him less inclined to visit. (they remind him of his mother; they obviously want to live freely but something is holding them back)

when they hear about the mhachi stuff and the void ark they demand to come along because as a white mage its technically their job to clean it up, since amdapoor and mhach are why these magicks are forbidden.

over the course of the raids they go from hating cait sith to becoming besties, and they finally join the redbills officially at the end of the quests because they do actually like the redbills despite the idiocy

[rutadales]

cfoolish morals are central to all the conflict he faces in such a compelling way. it's specifically the fact he holds himself to a higher moral standard then the people around him— he won't kill people and won't take revenge. and those choices cost him everything again and again and again and he keeps making them. he keeps choosing to be kind, to be forgiving, to be lenient, and throughout the story he loses more and more people— through betrayal, through distance, through loss of faith.

one of the most interesting to me is csam bc sam never hurts him, but it's sam's action in the prison that completely change how not just how foolish views Sam, but foolish's entire worldview. "Maybe you are right, maybe everyone's a scumbag". But this damages foolish's and sam's relationship to the point that the June 6th conversation is one of the last they ever have in canon. bc foolish's morals can't let him stomach being friends with someone who would do that. sam was his friend. And it's this loss of faith in his friend that shakes foolish to his very core— to the point he starts considering throwing everything he believes away, because why is he holding himself to a standard no one else is?

it must be so lonely, being kind in a world like that.

[ssoupcup]

the oc lore iceberg.

[springcatalyst]

*asks you about world building*

*sickos haha yes image*

All my stories take place in roughly the same timeframe in largely the same environment: hesitantly named Synsolic as an analogue to Earth (I may change that later because I don't know if I like it but it's stuck for a while now so. We'll see)

It's fantasy because I am a sucker for fantasy, populated by humans, merfolk, fauns, satyrs, ipotanes, and nightlings- which are also called shadowlings or aveoliths in varying contexts. I know "faun'' and ''satyr" are largely used interchangeably in a lot of things, but they're different species, here, though they share similarities with each other as well as with ipotanes, the other ungulate species. Merfolk are actually made up of two subspecies, iarans and nix, but while they differ physiologically in a lot of ways, culturally they are one and the same, so they're generally grouped together. I think that's as far as I'm going to get into species things for now, because I've got *checks notes* 32 pages of species things in my own nonsense word docs and I really don't think you want all of that. Unless...

BUT

The world as it is now has been fractured. I hesitate to call it post-apocalyptic because that implies a level of supernaturality and/or violence that generally isn't present, but the gist of it is that over a century past, in the mountain range at the northern edge of the continent, the tallest peak erupted. Think Mt. Taupō or Mt Tambora, with some variation. The ash, the pyroclastic flow, the acid rains and sulfide clouds, combined with the continued effects that the material that made it into the stratosphere had on climate in the next few years, contributed to a heavy death toll. Even after the initial activity ceased, cities fell just because they couldn't feed themselves in the unnatural winter that followed, in the subsequent years' lack of a true summer. The sulfuric content released poisoned the air, especially close to the mountain, though if you were close to the mountain, you were probably dead anyway from that initial eruption, just from being buried in ash or debris. More people were lost than can be counted- in the hours after the eruption, but also in the years that followed.

Some were affected more than others. Merfolk, occupying mostly the southern seas and having the added protection of the waters' surface, retained more of their infrastructure, and with it, knowledge and history, more of their people, than terrestrial humanoids. Satyrs had typically occupied the forests in the north, and so there are very few, if any, true satyr cities remaining. As a result, merfolk are now known for their knowledge of technologies that were lost to others, and satyrs are largely travelers or scattered among other species, unlike fauns, humans, and ipotanes, who have places that are more theirs. (The species are not completely distinct, they live amongst each other in a lot of cases, but there are places that are mostly fauns, or mostly humans, for example, where other species are more a minority. Satyrs don't really have that.)

It has been a long time since the cataclysm. Nobody currently alive lived it, in fact, there are few that even remember somebody who did, and if they did, they were almost too young to know it. But it lingers in the way that things are, now. Cities don't really exist as much as towns or villages, small settlements that can support themselves with little outside influence. There's not a whole lot in the way of governmental influence, and there's definitely not any nations anymore, though they were more of city-states before, anyway. This is a double-edged sword, because the cataclysm made people come together in a way they weren't previously, but it also gave people who wanted to use or harm others an easy avenue to do it, with no formal punishment a disincentive.

The world is mostly in-betweens. Towns or herds or any other type of community are few and far between, and in the spaces linking them is just a vast wilderness that, too, has been changed by the cataclysm. Ash is rich soil. There are forests where there were once prairies and there are rivers that were redirected. The closer you get to the mountain, the more changed things have been. The landscape is scattered with overgrown ruins, again, with increasing density as you draw closer to the source. People are isolated because of this vast space they must span in order to reach others. There are many travelers, but they rarely cross paths, because how could they? There is so much space.

There is SO much more I could say but for the sake of your sanity I'll leave it here. Extremely swag of you to indulge me and if you EVER are actually interested in me elaborating on literally anything PLEASE ASK. I WILL GLADLY

[elegyofthemoon]

i miss exploring areas and unraveling stories by exploring :/

[doubleedgemode]

@followers/whoever reads this: Please feel free to metaphorically wallop me if I say an absurd badly-reasoned take about the series, and also correct me. Thank you

[shoemi]

I made a shipping video about my own ocs

They r so toxic Yuri teehee (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)

[satoruhour]

geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt

OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD

a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers

wc: 2.9k

warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut

geto was a sweet roommate.

he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.

even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.

it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.

the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,

“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”

shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”

gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.

“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”

suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.

today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.

“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.

there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.

“(y/n)? love? you okay?”

“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”

“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”

geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.

“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”

geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.

“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.

geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.

what would it be like to actually wear it?

the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.

peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.

“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.

you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.

you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?

the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”

setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.

“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.

your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.

oh, shit.

and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.

fuck, did i say that out loud?

you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.

“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.

“yea— yeah…”

geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.

suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”

your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.

“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”

your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.

“yeah?”

you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.

“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.

“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.

“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.

geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.

“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.

“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.

“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”

“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”

you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”

your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”

he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.

geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.

“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 

“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.

“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.

“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”

you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.

once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”

you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.

he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.

you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—

as his roommate and maybe now, something more.

part two ♡