#was quite satisfied with the designs i came up with

[son1c]

I'm new-ish to your blog. Haven't done much digging around. I only knew of your falling stars au so I'm really interested to learn about your other ones!

Could you give a quick rundown of each or tell us the tags for them for people to see them? /nf

#falling stars au: sonic attempts to catch shadow after they defeat the final hazard together at the end of sa2. because of this, the two of them fall to earth together. they both lose their memories and sonic, being a regular mobian and not some science experiment freak with alien bones, breaks his leg. the story is about the past, the present, and finding your identity, but mostly it's just about wacky adventures.

#sol sonic: sonic and blaze roleswap. sonic is the (reluctant) fire prince of the sol dimension and blaze is the speedy hero of mobius.

prime shadows (#prism, #bermuda, #halcyon): fun what-if about shadow getting spliced by the paradox prism.

new yoke shadow is called prism, and he's very young, because he was made by nine after the fox stole the (abandoned) plans for him from the chaos council.

no place shadow is called bermuda, he's a siren created by gerald, but instead of space, the ark was basically atlantis, and bermuda has a horrible grudge against all surface dwellers for raiding his home and killing maria (who was a mermaid).

boscage maze shadow is called halcyon, and he was made by gerald as a solution to the megafauna problem that's plaguing the earth and making it uninhabitable for humanity, and intends to keep his promise to maria and restore the earth regardless of thorn rose's opposition.

#project nova dlc: what if eggman experimented on sonic after he got captured in sonic forces? what if he got fused with one of the chaos emeralds and was a little bit evil about it? what if infinite slowly realized his quest for unlimited power was futile, and the pain will persist so long as he continues to chase after it and forsaking what's really important, the memory of his deceased squad? what if he had a character arc???

[arolesbianism]

I'm rotating my oni pmd au so hard rn I have been cooking up some stuff and it's making my brain go brrrr. I cannot believe I managed to make a perfectly sensible set up for the worldbuilding in this story along with a way to connect the two main sides of it all without realizing, like of fucking course the long shut down guild that Otto accidentally ended up inheriting was this universe's gravitas, it just fits so nicely how the hell did I only realize I did this once I started thinking abt how the power cells for the spacetime opener machine worked and not the second I made a spacetime opener machine and had one of the power cells be in the possession of the random guild I happened to make extremely relevant

[vexwerewolf]

If we talk about the aesthetics of technology in Lancer, we can divide each of the Big 4 along lines of form and function.

IPS-N: Pure Function

IPS-N cares only what a mech does. It doesn't need to look good or pretty doing it - it only needs to be able to do that thing well. It's notable that the Raleigh, arguably the most form-oriented of the IPS-N frames, is also considered to be the company's biggest commercial failure - they strayed from their core design principles and got punished for it.

Harrison Armory: Form Follows Function

Harrison Armory still leans pretty heavily towards the functionality side of things, but it isn't satisfied with doing a good job alone. Yes, the mechs have to perform well, but they also have to look good doing it. There's no practical application for the Sherman's sleeveless coat or the Tokugawa's dainty little tassels, but they don't hinder combat functionality and they make the mechs look dashing. In comparison to IPS-N's coarse, industrial, almost unfinished look, HA mechs look stern, austere and imposing. There's a smoothness to them that you just don't get on IPS-N frames.

SSC: Function Follows Form

SSC is where we start to plunge into aesthetics-forward mech design. The Death's Head isn't six-legged because it's a sniper - the Death's Head is a sniper because it's six-legged. SSC came up with a mech design and asked: "what would this do best?" A six-legged chassis provided a more stable firing platform for precision weaponry, so that was what it did. Shapes and appearances are invented, and then a use case is discovered for them.

HORUS: Pure Form

It might seem weird to classify HORUS as "pure form" when their mechs largely don't have a consistent visual identity outside of the examples in the book. However, if we look a little deeper at the definition of "form," the explanation becomes clear: in some ways, HORUS is in the business of making statements, not mechs.

For anyone who's actually played a HORUS mech in Lancer, you may have noticed how awkward they are to actually pilot. Their statlines are, on paper, often very poorly suited to the sort of work they have to do. The Gorgon is built to attract attention and draw fire but has no armor. The Manticore is meant to be a front-line fighter but is quite slow. The Minotaur is meant to be a tech platform but has a low sensor range. The Pegasus' one functional trait doesn't apply to any of the weapons in its equipment package!

This is because HORUS mechs are designed purely as a testament to a certain discipline of technology. I remember expressing irritation with a friend's NeoGeo-for-X-Box emulator once, that you couldn't reconfigure the controller mapping so that it was easier to play with the X-Box controller. He remarked that it was meant as a historical preservation tool that perfectly duplicated the functionality of the NeoGeo, and that the only reason you could even play games using it at all is because that was a function of NeoGeo arcade cabinets.

That's how HORUS mechs are - their usability as chassis is broadly a side-effect.

[temis-de-leon]

He has a nightmare where he rejected you

Characters: Levi and Satan (x gn!reader, separately)

Part 1 , Part 3 , Part 4 , Part 5

Main Masterlist

A/N: not very satisfied with this one, but I don't want to get stuck in writer's block forever. I will revisit this in the future to improve it, but, until then, I hope you enjoy it <3

.

Leviathan – He didn’t think he deserved you

Companionship from him was hard to earn; not due to pickiness, but rather fear.

Would you make fun of him when you discovered the things he liked? Would you call him a pathetic, sad excuse of a demon?

He wasn’t embarrassed about his passions, mind you; in fact, he was quite proud of them, but he knew an otaku like him wasn’t considered as attractive or interesting as others with more… normie preferences.

Take Asmo, who knew how to talk to people and profited from his appearance; or Beel, who knew how to keep his muscles; or Lucifer, whose presence was enough to call for everyone’s attention.

He couldn’t hold a candle to them, as much as the knowledge pained him, and he was sure you thought the same.

How else would you feel? You, a human suddenly lost in the Devildom with no way of surviving but proving your wit and your strength. You, who fought with tooth and nails to stand your ground and still acted with kindness towards him, paying attention to his rants, asking out of pure curiosity, keeping track of the passwords…

Falling for you came immediately after you became his best friend, but Levi couldn’t lie to himself.

There wasn’t a way in hell, heaven or earth where a possible reciprocation wasn’t fuelled by pity, no matter how much you tried to convince him otherwise.

He closed the door of his room again, keeping everyone out, hoping that if he couldn’t see your lovesick gaze anymore, then you’d find someone fitter and more deserving.

The thought pained him to no end, but really.

Levi couldn’t lie to himself.

His chest hurt, no wonder. The shape of his clothes was imprinted on his skin, sternum and ribs aching with each breath after hours of sleeping on the edge of the bathtub. He thought he’d also twisted his wrist for a moment, but the pain just came from the weight of his torso resting on top of it for who knows how long.

Levi slowly blinked as he started to wake up, a pool of drool drying next to where his head had previously been and his mouth completely dry in return, the taste of something stale and unsavoury covering his tongue.

There was a water bottle on one of the glass tables, his headphones and a half-full glass of soda, but his DDD was on the floor with his jacket. He saw a blanket there too and your scent reached him like a siren’s song.

Groaning at the rigidness of his muscles, quickly embarrassed once more of his unfit body, he pushed himself out of the bathtub and tried not to trip on the clutter around the room. Most things were his, obviously, but he also found some of your clothes and even a pair of shoes and your backpack, covered in custom pins he’d carefully designed just for you.

The image of his door closing and leaving you out of his life resurfaced in his brain. What else could it have been if not a nightmare? While he was perfectly aware you were way out of his league, Levi was also conscious about his sin and about how weak he was under its power. There was no way he would’ve survived seeing you with someone else, let alone after confessing your love to him.

Noticing your absence with a sudden wave of nausea, he wondered for a horrible second if he’d talked during his sleep and woken you up with nonsense and rejection, but there was no way you would’ve left him for that, right? You would’ve woken him up instead, offering words of comfort and reasoning.

Him knowing that fact was the main evidence of how ridiculous the nightmare was.

How could he ever forget dating you, if just for a few seconds after waking up in pure stupor? As though your mere presence in his life didn’t change him; could he ever fool himself into thinking he could go on without the chance of being with you? His dream self may have been idiotic enough to believe so, but he knew better.

Levi would never let you go.

.

Satan – He didn’t realise how deep he’d fallen

He wouldn’t describe himself as superficial.

Feeling wasn’t a foreign experience; hell, he was doomed to feel, but there was so much he could understand about emotions.

Why did there have to be so many layers?

Asmo fawned over himself, rejoicing in who he was, yet he couldn’t bring himself to show how deep his mind and heart could reach.

Diavolo, so prepared for political business, yet so unsure at matters of the heart, abandoned and lonely.

You, so obviously afraid of your new surroundings, yet unwilling to bend your knee and show weakness.

Himself, falling for you slowly without either of you realising. He cared for you with what he knew was fondness, respect and appreciation. After all, given everything you’d done for him and his family, there was no other way he could look at you.

You confessed to him one day out of the blue, hope in your eyes, and his heart skipped a bit; but what if that flutter wasn’t enough? What if he was reaching too far, anticipating a chapter that would never be written?

Over time, the warmth in his chest turned bitter and electric, not stimulating anymore, but painful.

Yet, he smiled at you.

How confusing.

What a stupid mistake he had made.

You weren’t with him when he opened his eyes, which only fuelled the anger his dream had caused. Frustration at the cycle, always returning to the comfort of his sin, and fear upon your absence.

The swaying towers of books covered the window and cast shadows where they weren’t supposed to be, taunting him with the presence of someone else just as he was coming to terms with the lack of your company. His stretched arm, searching for your touch, slowly returned to him and pulled him deeper under the covers.

He still felt the goodnight kiss you had given him hours ago lingering on his lips, but it wasn’t that what helped settle his uncontrolled mind.

No.

Satan didn’t need reflection to know how much his soul yearned for yours. Although intimidated by the intensity of it, he wasn’t afraid to show just how much he loved you. Also, he would be caught dead before rejecting an idea due to a lack of perspective. Exploring your relationship had been his favourite subject by far, after all.

He knew that, had his rejection been real, his dreams would’ve been filled with the never-ending hope in your eyes and his willingness for more instead.

What he had with you in what he knew was the undeniable reality, was what he would always want in any other.

He may not understand the strength of your love and all that came in between, but wasn’t that what made it all that exciting?

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion

[dovesdreaming]

Ink and needles

You and Eddie become close when you keep coming back to him for your piercings. One day you ask for a piercing that leaves Eddie flustered though and romance follows.

I want to write a steamier version one day!

Warnings: anatomy (not gendered), piercing tools

-

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped into the dimly lit tattoo parlor. The walls were adorned with flash sheets and framed photos of satisfied clients showing off their ink. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and the faint hum of a tattoo machine coming from the back room. You glanced around, taking it all in, until your eyes landed on the front desk where a man was leaning casually against the counter. He was flipping through a magazine, his wild curls spilling over his shoulders, and his black band tee showcasing worn graphics. Rings adorned his fingers, and his arms were covered in intricate tattoos that snaked up beneath his sleeves. Eddie Munson. You’d heard of him before, people in town talked about the guy who made the darkest, most intricate designs come to life. He had a reputation for being a bit of a wildcard, but everyone who came to him always left with a story.

You cleared your throat, nerves buzzing in your stomach as you approached the desk. He glanced up, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked grin. “Hey there” he greeted, his voice low and rough. "What can I do for you today?". You hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Hi, um, I was thinking about getting a piercing”. His grin widened, and he set the magazine down. "You've come to the right place. What are you thinking? Something simple, or are you looking to get a little wild?". You laughed softly, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just a bit. There was something disarming about him, the way he looked at you like you were the most interesting person in the room. "Maybe somewhere in between”. He nodded, motioning for you to follow him to a side room with a high leather chair and a table lined with neatly arranged piercing tools. You sat down, your nerves creeping back as you explained what you wanted.

Eddie listened intently, his gaze focused on you the entire time. He asked a few questions, making sure you were comfortable and confident in your choice. His easygoing demeanor helped you relax, and before long, the piercing was done with minimal pain and a surprising amount of laughter. “There you go” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "You handled that like a champ”. You smiled, genuinely pleased with the result. "Thanks. I was more nervous than I thought I’d be, but you made it easy”. Eddie chuckled, running a hand through his curls. "Well, you’re a natural. Maybe you should come back, keep me company in this lonely old shop." You laughed, not entirely sure if he was joking or serious, but something about the way he said it made you want to take him up on the offer.

And you did. You found yourself coming back to the shop more often than you’d ever planned, sometimes for a new piercing, sometimes just to say hi. Each visit brought you and Eddie closer, your conversations becoming longer, more personal. You’d talk about everything from music to movies to the strange quirks of living in Hawkins. There was an easy chemistry between you two, something that neither of you acknowledged outright, but it was there, simmering just below the surface. Eddie’s teasing became more playful, his smiles lingering a bit longer, and you found yourself looking forward to every visit just to see him.

Then came the day you walked in with a request that neither of you were quite prepared for. Eddie was at the counter, sorting through paperwork when you strolled in. He looked up, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he saw you. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite client. What’s the plan for today? New piercing? Or are we finally gonna get you started on that tattoo?". You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach that always came when you were around him. "Actually, I was thinking about getting a piercing. But… it’s a little different this time." Eddie’s curiosity was piqued. He motioned for you to follow him into the piercing room, where he prepped his tools as usual. "Alright, hit me with it. What are we doing today?". You hesitated, your cheeks heating up as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. "I was thinking… nipple piercings."

Eddie froze for a split second, his hands pausing over the equipment. He cleared his throat, glancing up at you with a look that was both surprised and something else you couldn’t quite place. “You sure about that?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than usual. You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yeah, I’ve thought about it for a while now." He nodded slowly, his usual confidence faltering as he tried to process the request. "Alright. We can do that. Uh, just… make yourself comfortable, and we’ll get started." You could feel the shift in the air as you took off your top, leaving you in just your bra. Eddie was suddenly more careful with his movements, more focused on the task at hand, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over your skin, lingering a bit longer than necessary.

He guided you through the process, explaining everything as he went, his voice steady but lacking its usual playfulness. When it came time for the piercing, his fingers brushed against your skin, and you noticed how his touch was gentler than ever before. It wasn’t long before the piercings were done, but the atmosphere in the room had changed entirely. Eddie seemed a little more flustered, his usual bravado replaced by something softer, almost hesitant.

“All done” he said, his voice quieter as he stepped back, avoiding your gaze.

You smiled, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. "Thanks, Eddie. They look… really good”. He finally looked at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. "Yeah, well, you make it easy”. You both stood there for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. There was something unspoken between you, something that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm under your lips, and you felt him tense for just a second before relaxing.

“Eddie” you began, your voice trembling slightly as you pulled back, meeting his gaze. "I… I really like spending time with you”.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden admission, but then a slow smile spread across his face, more genuine and tender than you’d ever seen. "Yeah? Well, I really like having you around”. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment too long. "You know… you don’t have to come in just for piercings, right? You can, uh, come in anytime. For anything”. Your heart raced at his words, the meaning behind them clear as day. "I’d like that" you whispered, your eyes locking onto his. Eddie’s smile widened, his usual confidence returning as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "Good. Because I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t want to scare you off."

You laughed softly, the tension in the room melting away. "I think I can handle it”. “Yeah?" He grinned, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. "Well, in that case, how about we start with dinner tonight?". You nodded, your shyness momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the moment. "I’d love that”. Eddie’s smile was contagious as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "Me too. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll make those dinner plans official."

And as you sat there, the cool antiseptic stinging slightly against your fresh piercings, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something much bigger than either of you had expected.

[lxmelle]

The man surrounded by the theme of love…

Geto.

Gege has made several writing choices to depict Geto as someone who was handsome and loved - arguably more than any other character in the series. Maybe Gege loves him the most - not complaining at all.

More under the cut - just a few visuals I’ve collected to demonstrate this. I’m certainly not alone in noticing it and there may be others who show this much better, lol. Tag me in if you want to share!!

My post does end with a not-so brief analysis which you can skip if you wish.

Geto, despite being cursed at birth with the technique to absorb the ills of the world, the very skill that led him to fight alongside Gojo as part of the Strongest Duo - by design, each others’ counterpart in so many ways - a twist of fate led them onto opposite paths, leading to complete imbalance, one that drove him into madness.

If Geto in some ways represented Love, it is truly the most twisted curse of all which played a part in his death.

Geto witnessed the most love confessions in the whole series - I found (and stole) it off twitter/now X:

The Japanese originals seem more compelling to me:

Riko says “daisuki” whereas Yuta uses a more traditional “Aishiteru” which, is quite embarrassing of a confession, and therefore almost hints at what could be Gojo’s last words to Geto, if it directly parallels Yuta & Rika’s relationship. And that expression Geto wears when he sees Riko and Kuroi struggle with separating?

That does not look like a person who cannot sympathise and empathise with people. Geto was a person who cared too much, and in search for a way to protect those he cared for, needed an outlet and something (in this case, lesser being, the humans) to blame. He descended into a mania and much like shinobu sensui from yu yu hakusho, seemed to develop some kind of mental disorder due to being unable to carry the conflicting ideals together. The dissonance the world presented to him was just too cruel, and he himself became a weapon to defend his ideals.

Before his defection, Geto was liked by his peers:

Haibara

Mei Mei

Loved by his family for and despite his ideals:

Mimiko and Nanako

Shibuya crew liked/loved him and carried his will/beliefs even after his death, in their own ways, as family:

Miguel and Larue in the most recent chapter to date:

Translations (rough):

Larue: You and me alike, we just wanted Suguru-chan to be King.

Miguel: Yea, I followed just because it was Geto. After shibuya, I trained Okkotsu and I don’t want anything to do with the country anymore. (Something along these lines; a little too complicated for my rudimentary Japanese)

Larue: You , me, Mimiko, Nanako, Manami, Toshihisa, everyone just really liked/loved Suguru-chan.

Canonically, he was known to be handsome and popular:

Takaba

Gege’s character book:

JJK popularity poll:

I do not have screengrabs of how Manami and Larue joined, but it was said to be due to how handsome they thought he was.

Maybe he was like Rika, who did realise how she came across in her life, and manipulated people, lol. But that’s a bit of a stretch to bring that parallel/similarity in. Geto was just quite a magnetic person, according to Gege.

And in the most roundabout way:

Gojo:

“my one and only”

“Love is the most twisted curse...” “curse me a little at the end.”

“I don’t need love to satisfy me” ... “if you were there I might’ve have been satisfied”

While love surrounds Geto, the theme that follows Gojo appears to be “the strongest” cursed; he was admired, revered, feared, and disliked by many. It truly breaks my heart, to think of what he had to give up to carry the weight of this for his whole life, until the very end.

This looks like the most dizzyingly lonely picture of Gojo. It was indeed ironic to have it all but to embody what it means to have an unlimited void by being totally different.

He suffered so much for his power and to have carried this strength. The sorcerer world was practically on his shoulders. The balance was up to him; everyone relied on him. Every time he tried to protect his love (geto) it seemed to fail. It worsened each time, ending with his own demise. But of course that’s just a dramatic interpretation - I don’t really mean/believe that, but it is one way to see the tragedy between Gojo and Geto. Strength at the expense of love; it plays out with the strongest this far as those identifying with this title are plagued by loneliness and do not know love.

They met before things got twisted within themselves, between them. Even after Geto left, Gojo seemed to be looking and waiting for him - to prove his trust for him almost as if he saw through his illusions and lies. Geto was the shadow (Yin) and Gojo was the light (Yang). Only the light can see through the dark. I’ll leave the gojo characterisation for another time / to other better writers.

For now, I’ll just say that I felt that he had planned for the possibility of losing to Sukuna (with the various things we see him do between scheduling the 24th and the actual day) and if he won, he’d just carry on the plan to cremate Geto on top of saving everyone and being a good example as the strongest. Worst case scenario, he would weaken Sukuna and I guess just die on the same day as Geto - idk, maybe as a form of redemption for one of his most painful experiences in life. Who knows?

I headcanon he was relieved to pass on, doing his part to defend the world that relied on him so much, with a big bang - a really fun fight.

And I’m glad they found each other at the end - the loved and the lost.

Back to Geto:

We don’t get much insight into what Geto wanted or felt aside from a world that was better for sorcerers, those he cared about. Even at the afterlife scene, or in subsequent chapters, we only hear from others rather than Geto.

Call me biased and delusional; I believe he didn’t kill the innocent despite saying he hated them all. He loved and hurt so strongly that he hated with almost equal force. He did want to force evolution and eventually extinguish all human kind, to him: the ignorant source of suffering, but I’m glad he didn’t manage to get Rika. I headcanon that he was aware he was losing himself by defying his own principles (to kill sorcerers) for his own gain. That, and Rika with a binding vow for a life, no less, was just too powerful.

In the official character book, Geto was described as someone who told himself that he hated humans a lot, like a reminder. He didn’t kill people indiscriminately. I’m sure he was well aware of how evil he had become but he had chosen, hadn’t he? He expressed to Yuta, that self-affirmation was incredibly important in his view. And the more he interacted with the students, I think the more his humanity fought back - I mean, he was standing there crying from being so moved by what he saw. He also let Yuta heal his friends. How villainous? Or how incredibly loving in spite of himself?

Geto has been shown to lie to others too: jjk 0: described having lied to the school about the conditions for obtaining a cursed spirit, and after defecting: upon taking stage for the first time, stating that the looking the part (wearing gojokesa) was important (ie lying). At his death’s door, he also prefaces with, no matter what anyone says - why would there be a need for that if he wasn’t telling a half-truth? He sought to avenge Riko (first person at the cult he killed after calling him onto the stage + cue mic throw) and the village represented a bunch of people who he slaughtered out of rage and ignorance. I’m definitely not defending him here - his actions are reprehensible. My headcanon view is that he didn’t know how to live with himself after snapping and that was the only path laid before him, which he ardently committed to.

I just think that he held onto a form of love/humanity still- Gojo and Geto both did. Without it, Geto would’ve become the Queen of curses due to Rika (uncaring about his family, or killing young sorcerors despite witnessing the students’ bond and yuta’s selfless power of love in jjk0) and Gojo may have focused on training at all cost without embracing Geto’s principles and becoming a teacher to change the jujutsu world - he could’ve become the next Sukuna and take the title of the King of curses instead - crowning them both King and Queen - instead of both the King and Queen contributing to their deaths. Anyway, I digress...

Geto appears very mother-coded in his protective and defensive relations to the girls, but also to Riko, Kuroi, and Gojo - especially after Toji had killed them. He was so fiercely trying to avenge and defend them, but failing that had a huge effect on him. Moreover, Haibara - innocent, glowingly positive - suffered an undeserved death. It weighed so heavily on Geto, that he didn’t defend Gojo when Nanami vented about leaving things to Gojo who seemed to take it all in his stride, almost insinuating that Geto, too, had little autonomy but to carry on that cycle of curse consumption he began to loathe.

Yuki also underlined the meaninglessness of the death / sacrifice / relationship rupture / suffering. And like the novel implies: Geto was too sincere for this world. He just loved too deeply and wounds cut him too painfully. At just 17... what inner resources were they forced to develop?

He was disillusioned by the system, but respected that Gojo had a place there. This is also SatoSugu indulgent: He never once attempted to talk Gojo into joining him, despite it being the most logical choice, but Geto was the emotional and loving kind - he prioritised Gojo over his ideals / himself. This man was willing to die trying to pursue his ideals, but didn’t want to try convincing his friend even if he know it might fail. What does that say about him? I think it says he loved Gojo. And Gojo loved him.

He masked like Gojo did : the infamous “yeah I’d win” and Geto’s “I’ve made my choice” and his face fell as he had his back turned, stating that he just needed to do it to the best of his ability. This may be headcanon but it does seem plausible to me. He was under no illusions about what he had done. To love was to turn away too. To love was to let the other go. Sigh.

Backtracking a bit: When Geto encountered the twin girls, who knows what entered his mind, but there was something that emerged from being horrified, enraged, and it gave birth to new meaning. He would take control and save them - from humans and the institution that made child sorcerors die. According to Gege, he became Papa Geto. (Kenjaku is also mum-coded but the antithesis of motherly love, with the womb protrusion domain and actually bearing children.)

This is of course not limited to feminine energy, as parents, both male and female, have protective instincts. But I’m not here to go into that discourse. Just stereotypically, and loosely speaking, Geto is very Yin energy. He is a big Mama Bear. With extreme maternal aggression. We see female counterparts do this in the wild more than males. And yes, of course both male and female are protective. Both geto and gojo were protective in their own unique ways. That’s for another post. Geto would rather die than have anyone come save him. In fact, the scripture behind him in the temple goes somewhere along the lines of “death to the weak”. If he had failed, he deserved to die. His family should live.

Gojo cares for others differently. And yes we know he died whilst defending others too. He is inherently more individualistic due to what he is with his gifts and noble heritage. He is less emotional and more cerebral, the only time we saw him lose his composure was due to Geto.

He allows his students to take risks and would allow them to fight in his stead, like in jjk 0 where Toge and panda were sent to be defeated by Geto. Tough love, as Gojo admits. This is also very Dad-like in the modern sense of the word.

In my subjective experiencing of the world, it’s almost like a husband who is only really emotionally vulnerable with his wife, and is otherwise the successful businessman, dad, and whatever else he is. Geto is much like a mum that he would walk away from her husband (lol, Gojo in this case) in order to protect them in a way she deems is best. Maybe I’m a little nuts, I don’t know. (Actually I am a little eccentric, but that’s by the by).

Now this is totally just satosugu indulgent: I headcanon that Gojo also “protected” / was possessive of Geto by making a deal with Miguel since the latter said he would curse Geto if he died, lol. Especially in light of the latest chapter where Miguel said he was spared by Gojo. (And i reckon Gojo was respectful of Miguel being Geto’s family, so he spared him for that reason too). I mean, Gojo had to kill his best friend, but this was his burden to bear, you know? It’s almost sickeningly intimate to allow someone to end your suffering, and be entrusted with that too. Ugh, ouch, my heart…..

Edit: I’m reminded of that scene where Shoko reflects on loving neither of them, like Gojo, Geto didn’t want anyone to be alone anymore either. Geto said he didn’t feel happy from the bottom of his heart. Gojo felt lonely (although he said it got better at the airport scene). They weren’t alone, but probably felt it… because of the absence of their true/first love? Larue stating in the panels above that Geto wouldn’t wish for them to fight seems like a nod to what Geto believed happened between him and Gojo. Gojo raised allies - be strong, don’t be left behind. Geto a family - get along, don’t fight. Just pointing out what my take is on the parallels I’ve observed.

That ends the brief analysis portion of what I wished to convey about what appears to surround Geto. He may not have been depicted much in the series, but his presence has been felt through the eyes of many. It made me wonder why did Gege do this?

This author deliberately wrote multiple people in the verse to love and follow him (and spare him a death sentence for 10 years) despite not agreeing to his ideals.

Perhaps it isn’t Gege’s focus, understandably, to give us a lot more insight from Geto’s pov, but there is certainly some kind of narrative he is pushing to depict how this man, cruel yet kind, is somehow one of the few he seems to portray in this way more than others within the sorcerer world at the very least. That his life was somehow a tragedy that he might not have really known the love at all? I wonder what Gojo’s last words were to incite such a heartfelt reaction - well done? Welcome home? You did well? I love you? My one and only best friend? Sigh, I guess it’s a secret between them.

There are others who have written metas on Gojo and maternal energy. If I find it I’ll link it! Otherwise, search through my reblogs! So many fantastic writers and thinkers out there!

Thanks for reading if you made it this far!

[canthelpit0]

Come through

Pairing: Cocky!Player!Chris x Reader

Word count: 4.5k+

Summary: chris hand always been a player. Would that change once he becomes famous? -no.

Warnings: smut, player!Chris, influencer!Reader, party, mentions of drinking/tobacco/weed, pet names (ma, pretty boy, pretty lady, sweetheart, etc.), bathroom sex, semi public, oral m!receiving, fingering, p in v (protected), praise kink, swearing, no use of y/n, no oc, written in 2nd pov

(A/N: English is not my first language, and I always appreciate feedback enjoy! love y'all. this is heavily inspired by come through, the song.)

Chris had always been sort of a fuckboy.

And with his growing fame it wasn’t getting any better.

Chris has a huge ego. Sure people would always say him and his brothers are nice and humble, but that doesn’t mean Chris can’t be cocky at times.

He didn’t drink. He was underage, though in LA nobody really cared about that anyway. He just didn’t like drinking.

Chris and his brothers would always be invited to some random LA parties.

At first Chris never wanted to go. He didn’t like partying. He didn’t like the smell of alcohol, tobacco and weed.

However he soon came to realize that his looks and fame would get girls swooning over him.

He was being a player and he knew it. However none of the girls he’s ever been with complained.

He made sure they know that it would be a one night stand, and that he doesn’t date. And it worked for him.

★ ★ ★

You were an upcoming YouTuber and influencer. You were starting to gain more and more followers. People were starting to notice you more

You were known for your humor and your witty comebacks.

And as much as you would like to deny it, People didn’t just loved you for your personality, but they also loved your body.

You were gorgeous, To put it lightly.

So obviously when Chris saw you on his for you page a week ago, picking out an outfit to put on for some place you were going to that day, he thought you were hot.

Not that he’d do anything about it.

He wasn’t the type of guy to slide into someone’s dm’s. Because quite frankly he didn’t care that much.

★ ★ ★

But when he saw you at the party he was attending tho…

You’d been carelessly dancing. You weren’t drinking, even tho you were 21. You didn’t want to drink today. You wanted to have sober fun and hang out with your friends.

Your friends always did and said the craziest things when drunk. And watching it as the sober designated driver was hilarious.

You feel big hands being placed on your waist delicately.

You turn around to see who it was and to your surprise it was one of the sturniolo triplets.

Chris.

He’s bold for just touching you like that. But for some reason it was hot. Maybe it was just the air laced in weed that was getting to you, but you were enjoying this.

So you simply dance with him.

After a while you both leave the middle of the crowd going to the kitchen to talk. The kitchen being way less crowded than the living room of this house party.

“You’re bold.” You chuckle pointing out watching as his expression morphed into one of amusement and lust as he checks you out.

“Couldn’t help myself ma”

“Sure you couldn’t, pretty boy” you chuckle rolling your eyes at the statement.

Chris, to the public was known to be a sweetheart. But in LA, around other influencers he was known to have quite frequent hook ups. And he was known to never leave any of the girls not satisfied.

You, having moved to LA recently for your career, have heard all about it. People were ‘warning’ you, but no one was outright telling you it was a stupid idea. Because was it tho?

“What’s a pretty lady like you doing here anyway?” His goofy grin is wide as he stares back into your eyes.

His eyes are a light shade of blue, but in the lights of the party and his blown out pupils they look dark. His brown hair long, and a mess.

After people had told you about him and his brothers (And particularly Chris’ reputation), you had searched them up and watched a few of their videos. They were quite funny.

And Chris in particular seemed to not be able to take anything seriously.

“Nothing, just having fun.”

You shrug taking a sip from your red solo cup. It was filled with plain water. Chris raised an eyebrow at that.

“You’re not drinking?” He can’t help the small laugh he lets out at that. Tho he is secretly glad you’re not. This was his chance to get you in bed, but he wasn’t going to do anything with a drunk girl.

“No,” you chuckle back. “Designated driver” you raise your free hand in surrender as if it was a crime.

He chuckles at your antics his eyes trailing over your face over to your body once more.

“Eyes up here sweetheart.”

His eyes snap back to yours his goofy grin staying right where it was.

“Sorry ma, you’re just really distracting.” He smiles looking down at you.

You weren’t that much shorter than him. But granted you were wearing high heels. He wasn’t even that tall himself though.

You were wearing a tiny mini dress. One that ends right below your ass. Your cleavage being low giving him a great view of your boobs.

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

You tease. You take a step closer to him, stepping into his personal space as you tilt your head up to look at him better.

His hand goes to the side of your jaw rubbing his thumb over your cheek gently as if asking for consent. You wrap your arm Around his neck pulling him down connecting your lips.

The sweet kiss turns more heated when his hand moved from your jaw to the back of your neck. His other hand holding you by the small of your back keeping your body flush against himself.

His tongue graces your lips asking for entrance with you eagerly give, parting your mouth slightly so he can slip his tongue into your mouth.

You make out, your tongues tangling in each other as you simply kiss for a moment.

His tongue hungrily exploring your mouth. He leans into you more tilting your head back more, kissing you with all the lust in his body. Kissing you Like he wants to devour you.

You eventually pull apart to breath. His lips immediately meeting your jawline. He kisses down your jawline moving down to your neck to your collarbone.

“Damn you smell amazing.” He breaths out. His voice strained from the previous kiss.

“Thank you” you chuckle your hand finding its way into his messy waves. You scratch his scalp with your freshly manicured nails causing him to let out a low groan.

He pulls back slightly. He leaves a quick peck on your lips before looking at you again.

“How about we go somewhere.” His voice low and raspy. Laced with the attraction and lust he feels for you.

You just hum. He starts to drag you back through the living room, through the crowd of people. Getting to some random bathroom. He opens the door and lets you walk in first.

You immediately stand in front of the mirror, leaning over slightly to fix your hair.

He closes and locks the door behind himself. He stands behind you watching you through the mirror. You make eye contact. In this new lighting his eyes seem clearer.

He stares into your soul as you push back from the sink.

You swiftly turn around and sink to your knees in front of him.

Chris would’ve never asked. But wich guy doesn’t like head.

“So eager” he chuckles. His hand goes to the top of your head petting it gently. Before he picks up your chin, making you look up at him again.

Your head is tilted back as you look up at him through your lashes. you know he’s probably had countless woman in this same position. But it never got old for him.

And he liked seeing you like the is anyway

“You look so pretty like this you know.” He mumbles before leaning down and leaving a heated kiss on your lips.

He stands back up straight, and you can’t help the way your eyes trail to his crotch. It was right in front of your face and you were getting impatient.

Before you know it your hands go to the top of his jeans, tugging on them gently. You were asking for permission without asking.

He chuckles at your eagerness, undoing his belt, then unbuttoning the jeans and letting you slide them down.

You can already see his huge erection through his boxers. Your mouth was already watering at the sight.

You pull down his boxers fast. His length springing free, hitting his abdomen.

You flinch back slightly. You look at his length with an eyebrow raised not doing anything for a moment just admiring.

You’ve never seen a dick be this pretty. It had a thick vain running up the side. It was long, at least a good 8 inches. It was thick, not too thick, but enough that you knew the stretch would burn.

“You good?” He asks. He was clearly holding in a laugh. His hand goes to your hair, still just patting the top of your head.

“You’re sure you’re white?” You tease one hand cupping his member as you start to gently and slowly jerk him off.

“Definitely, sweetheart” he chuckles rolling his eyes at the comment. People always asked about it. Wich is fine since most people weren’t used to his size. the constant questioning was so annoying sometimes.

But the way you teased him with that sentence was just too good.

His red tip is already leaking pre cum. He eagerly waits for you to start. You press a small peck on it, while looking up at him your eyes staying locked on his.

You start to kitten lick the tip. You watch as he lets out a slightly shaky sigh at the contact.

“C’mon ma, don’t tease.”

You pull away slightly chuckling at the statement. You teasingly blow air on it, watching as he shivers. But before he can start complaining about your teasing you take his entire tip in your mouth swirling your tongue around it.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighs softly. He rubs your cheek with the back of his hand as you hollow out your cheeks to give him more pleasure.

His hand moves to my hair taking it and putting it in a makeshift ponytail. You start to take him as deep as you could, starting to slowly bob your head. Sucking and swirling your tongue. You take him as deep as you can jerking off what you can’t fit with your manicured hand.

The sounded coming from it are sinful, and so are his low moans and grunts.

When you hear his soft grunts turn into moans you can tell he’s getting close. You pull off with a pop. You stroke him gently, and then teasingly lick a stripe up his shaft.

“You like that?” You tease licking at it. He groans in annoyance. He thrusts his hips back to get more friction from your hand.

“Please keep going.”

You lick your lips briefly watching him. His eyes meet yours. You chuckle starting to suck him off again. This time you do it more vigorously and faster than before. His dick repeatedly hitting the back of your throat as you slightly gag around it.

Chris’ grip in your hair tightens as he starts to tug in it. He holds you in place stopping your movements as he starts to harshly thrust in and out of your mouth.

The sounds of your moans send sensations of pleasure through him. Every sinful sound echos through the small bathroom, making the music outside sound non existent to you two.

His cock is repeatedly hitting the back of your throat. Your eyes water at the harsh feeling. You try to gag as little as possible.

“Fucking- swallow ‘aight” he breaths out harshly. You hum as best as you could. The sensation tingles through his spine. And with a last thrust you feel his cum pore down your throat. You try your best to swallow as much as you could.

He gently pulls out. His thumb rubbing the corner of your lips where some of it had leaked.

He puts his thumb on your plump and swollen lips. And without a secound thought you suck on his thumb. You blink away the tears that’d been forming.

The sight is enough to have him going all over again.

His grip on your hair had loosened, but he still pulls you up by it gently.

He turns you around, so that you’re facing the mirror your hands on the sink. Your ass presented to him.

His eyes meet yours through the mirror once more. Seemingly asking for consent, to wich you nod.

His hand starts to trail over the side of your thigh slightly under your short dress.

“Words baby”

“Yes Chris- please” you waste no time asking him. You want him to touch you where you crave him the most.

“Gonna be a good little slut now?” He teases. His eyes stay locked on yours through the mirror.

“Mhm” you mumble watching him. You feel him start to pull up your dress. He bunches it up right over your ass.

His fingers go to trail over your slick wet folds. Chris pushes the lacy thong to the side. He rubs his fingers briefly over your clit, before going to tease your cunt.

“Words, sweetheart.” He repeats, his eyes staying locked on yours. He had no problem teasing you until you comply.

“Yes-“ you get cut off by a Moan. When he slams two of his long fingers into you.

Your body jolts forward, your thighs hitting the cold sink. You grimace at the feeling.

“Wow, so sensitive?” He teases leaning over again to leave a quick peck behind your ear.

He starts to plunge his fingers in and out of your cunt. He roughly fingers you, his long fingers curl just right to hit your sweet spot.

You let out a breathless moan letting your head fall forward. You were leaning on your arms for support.

You feel his big hand wrap around your throat as he pulls you back up. “Now, now, baby watch yourself.” He teases.

“Keep those pretty eyes on me” he taunts. You flutter your eyes open. You feel his fingering get rougher as you can feel your climax rapidly approaching. You’re tempted to close your eyes again, but you’re sure Chris would edge you or something.

So you try your best to keep them open and staring at his face.

“Good girl. Yeah. Just like that.” He praises. His low words sending tingles to your core. You can practically feel yourself get wetter at how words and the sound of his voice alone.

Your wetness is loud. The lewd sounds bounce off of the bathroom walls. That along with your sweet low moans, while you try to keep yourself together.

“You like my praise honey?” He asks in a sweet tone. His words sound so innocent. Unlike the very things he’s doing to you right now.

“Yes- god” you whine, this time not hesitating to answer.

He chuckles at your eagerness speeding up his pace to give you your release. His fingers curl at just the right spots, reaching places you couldn’t reach by yourself.

“I’m close-“

“I know.” Chris grins keeping his eyes on yours through the mirror. His hand moves higher from your neck to your jaw, cupping your face roughly.

He turns your head to face him. He roughly crashes his lips onto yours. You try hard to focus on the kiss, but the way he finger fucks you has you weak in the knees. The kiss is sloppy and messy. His tongue explores your mouth as you try hard to focus.

You whine loudly. His lips catching the moan as he only picks up pace even more. He gets the hint that you’re close. And before you know it, you’re coming around his fingers.

He lets go of your face. You lean further on your arms. Your Hands harshly gripping onto the sink. You let your head fall forward as you pant harshly.

He gently pulls out his fingers. His eyes focused on the way you’re throbbing around nothing.

He sucks his fingers clean humming at the taste of your cunt on them. “Did so well for me ma” he hums reassuringly, pressing a sweet kiss on your neck.

“You think you can take another, sweet girl?” He says softly.

“Please.” Your breath out your voice shaky. You pick up your head looking at him through the mirror again.

He leans down briefly to his jeans that were still pooling down at his feet.

Chris puts his hand on your hip His eyes locking with yours through the mirror. He holds out a condom with one hand. He leans over you to leave a quick peck on your shoulder.

“I’m clean” you raise an eyebrow at him through the mirror. He doesn’t respond. “And I’m on birth control..” you trail off watching him.

He grins letting out a low laugh that seems to vibrate through his entire chest.

He presses his chest up against your back as his arm wraps around your torso. He leaves another kiss on your shoulder, trailing it up to your neck and right under your ear.

“I’m not taking any chances ma”

His voice is low and seductive. The tone sending vibrations right to your core.

“Fine for me” you shrug as you watch him lean back. His eyes lock on your ass. He licks his lips.

Chris roughly rips open the condom package with his teeth. Rolling the condom over himself fast. He was eager to get into you as fast as possible.

He hums in response, caressing your ass gently, his other hand guiding his dick through your soaked folds.

He gently starts to push into you. Letting you take the tip first. Once he feels you relax he rams in the rest of his cock.

You let out another breathless moan at the impact. Chris doesn’t move right away tho, he wants to make it last as long as possible.

“Good” he praises lowly rubbing your hips soothingly. Your body was tense, and he was waiting for you to adjust just a little bit.

You let out a shaky sigh pushing yourself back on him. He takes the hint that he can move now.

So before you realize it, he’s relentlessly pounding into you. You let out a squealed moan at the sudden intense feeling of his movements.

“Oh- fuck-“

He chuckles, and suddenly you feel a harsh slap on your butt. You wince at the harshness. Chris’ hand goes to knead your ass, easing out the pain.

His other hand trails from your waist to the small of your back to arch it more, consequently pushing you closer to the sink.

You lean over the sink. You try hard to keep your head up and look at him. But with the way he is hitting every spot inside of you, it’s hard for you to focus right now.

Chris notices the struggle. One of his hands trail from your hip, up your back teasingly. Before he grabs your hair roughly, putting it in a makeshift ponytail.

“Does the pretty girl like getting her hair pulled like a slut?”

The way he tugs on your hair, the way his sharp eyes trail over your body , and then lock on your eyes through the mirror. It’s all so hot to you.

You let out a shaky breath between Moans. “Yes-“ before you can say anything more you feel him tug harder on your hair And his thrusts becoming harsher.

His eyes train back onto your ass And the way it looks when he thrusts into you. The way his cock disappears in your wet cunt. It’s so captivating to watch for him. He could stare at that sight for hours.

“Gorgeous girl wants to get fucked like this?” He questions teasingly. Another harsh slap echos through the bathroom, But it feels so euphoric.

Your eyes close momentarily at the feeling. Before you feel him rub your ass again. Chris tugs on your hair again, to wich you open your eyes.

“Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you”

Chris’ words are harsh. He is being dead serious. His breaths sharp and his tone laced with lust.

You only let out a mumble to wich he pulls on your hair harsher. And another smack echos through the room. You jolt forward again at the sudden impact, but this time he doesn’t ease the pain away. Instead his pace gets even rougher.

The sound of skin clapping, and the lewd sounds of your soaked cunt are loud, Creating a sinful melody.

“Touch yourself ma.” He huffs out harshly keeping up the pace. Chris keeps his fingers tangled in your hair pulling on it. While his other hand stays firmly on your hip. The harshness at wich he is holding onto you would be enough to leave bruises.

Without thinking you reach one hand down starting to rub your clit furiously, chasing your own high.

“Close” you moan as you keep repeatedly rubbing your clit. And the way Chris’ cock is hitting your cervix only intensifies the feeling.

“Come around me baby” you’ve been pulsing around him all this time. You were already squeezing him so tight. What he wouldn’t give right now to just feel your cunt squeeze him while you come.

So he keeps going. Until you let out a loud whine. You close your legs as best as you could and You clench around Chris harshly.

Chris keeps up pace. His eyes locking to your ass. Watching the way his cock disappears into you over and over. Watching the way the condom he’s wearing is covered in your slik wetness.

What he wouldn’t give to just raw dog it and feel your cum on his bare dick right now. He was tempted to actually just take off the condom to see and feel this without one.

Chris’ thrusts become more messy. But his pace doesn’t let up. Until his hips stutter and he lets out a breathless moan burying himself into you one last time.

His jaw is dropped. He moves his hand from your hip, instead wrapping that arm around your waist, holding you close. He leans over your back keeping himself inside for a moment. Chris burries his face in the crook of your neck. You both breathe heavily at your previous orgasms.

His hand in your hairs loosens. Until he fully lets go. His hand rubbing your scalp since he’d been pulling on it relentlessly.

“Did so good for me ma” he mumbles. His face stays buried in your neck for a moment.

You place your hand back on the sink again, trying to catch your breath and steady yourself.

You’d just fucked a random influencer. Some random player. But, god, was that worth it. No wonder none of his one night stands ever complained. That was fucking amazing.

You just mumble out a quick agreement.

He stands up straight. Gently pulling out as to not hurt you or anything. He takes off the condom.

But while he gets rid of it you don’t even pay attention to him. You look at yourself in the mirror. As much as you want to regret it, you can’t.

You pull your thong back into place and pull your mini dress back down.

You examine your face. Your hair was messy from the pulling, and your make up was only slightly smudged. You’d almost cried while deepthroating him, but you luckily hadn’t. Tho your mascara was still slightly smudged.

You could feel your cunt still ache.

You can see Chris pull up his pants from the corner of the mirror. And then fasten his belt back.

“You okay?” Chris asks his arms wrapping a round you. He looks at you through the mirror . His expression is soft and more caring than you’d expect. Most guys would’ve left by now.

“Mhm.” You mumble watching his expression through the mirror. He narrows his eyes at you.

“Do you regret it?” He asks softly. His tone sweet, like he is talking about something normal.

You purse your lips trying to hold back a smile. The fact that he cared to ask if you regret it or not. Everyone told you he’s a fuck boy, and that is motto is literally ‘hit and quit’. But why was he being nice then?

“No” you speak. And you can’t help the small chuckle that leaves your lips.

He turns you around so you face him. He presses a quick peck on your lips. Before he leans over and grabs a random towel off a rack. He wets it slightly in the sink behind you.

And then he sinks onto his knees in front of you. He looks up at you pulling up your dress again slightly.

“What’re you doing?” You question. a chuckle leaves your lips at the sight of Chris on his knees in front of you.

He leans in leaving a soft kiss on your thigh.

“I’m not letting you walk out with your cum running down your thighs ma.” Chris laughs, he then runs the damp towel over your inner thighs.

He cleans you up enough for you to not feel so sticky anymore. He places your panties back. Then he gets up again. Chris pulls down your dress for you before placing another kiss on your lips.

He throws the towel into some laundry bag carelessly. At your curious gaze he explains. “A friend of mine is throwing this party.” He shrugs.

There is a silence for a second where you two just look at each other. Neither of you say anything. Until you speak up again.

“Do you always wear condoms when you hook up with girls?”

You ask before the words even register in your mind. And once they do a blush creeps over your cheeks.

“Yeah. I won’t wear one next time if you don’t want me too.” He chuckles. “There will be a next time?” You question.

Chris was the type to only hook up with a girl once. He probably didn’t even remember half of their names.

Instead of answering though, he leans in and kisses you. The kiss is slower, not heated like the previous one shad been.

One of your hands moves from his neck to grab his phone out of his back pocket.

You Lean back slightly. You type your number into his phone. Then you hand it back to him.

He grins at the new contact on his screen.

“I’ll see you around pretty boy.”

You smile giving him another kiss on the lips. And this one lingers. You slide out of his grasp opening the bathroom door. he watches with a goofy grin, as you leave.

You leave going straight back into the crowd of drunk influencers. Trying to search for your drunk friends that would be around here somewhere.

You know he’s a player. So you don’t know if he’ll call you. You don’t know if you’re special, and if he treated you different than others. But if it came down to it you’d at least tried.

But,

He’s not into dating.

Materlist

(A/N: I literally wrote this within the span of one day. I feel like this is probably the best thing I've written so far. Hope you enjoyed <33)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @ecliphttlunar

[eternalsa2z]

Her Name Is Mandi

She received the necklace as a gift. 'MANDI' it said in bold, flashy, gaudy jewelry. At first it didn't make sense...that wasn't quite her name? But as she started to wear it, she began to understand how well it fit her.

M - MADEUP

She started wearing the necklace while applying her makeup. She couldn't miss the name flashing in the mirror as she applied elegant makeup every day. It made sense - she was a high-end aesthetician after all! For some reason she recalled working towards a different goal, like medicine or something. But a little glimpse of her glam necklace and the thought would be covered up like how her makeup painted her face.

A - ALLURING

After a while, her aesthetic changed. She needed something refined and showy to match her necklace at all times. So altered gowns with low necklines and slits up the side filled her wardrobe as her head filled with thoughts of wearing feminine finery. It fit in well with her side-hustle as a hostess at a high-end club. A perfect match to how her necklace nestled between her buxom bosom, which felt bigger and better squeezed by her splendid attire.

N - NEEDY

By now the necklace never left her. Neither did the increasing sense of lust, arousal, and desire. Her head felt emptier with the necklace or a glitzy choker squeezing her neck; instead it was increasingly filled with an obsession with physical beauty, sexy wardrobes, and self-indulgent pleasure. She looked hot; so she felt hot.

Her urges grew until she gave in. She dressed in a scandalous, searing-hot red lingerie set. Constantly licked her plump, inflated, pleasurable lips. Desperately dreaming of satisfying her desires.

D - DOLL-LIKE

Her old sense was hanging by a thread, the opposite of how securely the necklace fit around her plastic form. Desperately she tried to recall who she was, her true self, until an important decision came into her empty head. It didn't matter who she used to be...now she was just a plastic trophy. Built for pleasure, designed to be paraded about, meant to be played with.

The thought broke her brain and cemented her new personality. She was a buxom Barbie. A bratty Bratz. A dumb bimbo doll. Mindlessly she stood frozen, mouth agape, posing in a sexy manner. It was her destiny all along.

I - ICON

The necklace had overwritten her identity completely. She embraced her new self, strutting down red carpets and showing off her enhanced assets. Heads would turn, faces flush, and cameras snap in an attempt to capture her perfect image in their minds forever. She was an bimbo icon yet she kept working to become even feminine, amazingly lovely, and worry-free. In other words - her own ideal!

It turns out the necklace really was a match for her all along. She was a madeup, alluring, needy, doll-like icon. Her name was Mandi. It fit her perfectly.

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 1

Part 1:

When they were kids, Liana and Art didn't like each other. To be more precise, they couldn't stand each other. They were born in the same month, and because their parents were such good friends, they always celebrated their birthdays together. Since Art was born two weeks after her and his grandmother firmly believed that one should not celebrate in advance, Liana never celebrated her birthday on its actual date, and that was a good enough reason to hate Art Donaldson forever.

When they were 7 years old (or more precisely, he was seven, and she was seven and two weeks), Art received his first tennis racket, and Liana got a small skateboard with a Pokémon design. He cried. Of course, he cried; everything Liana had, Art wanted too. He didn't know how to share anything, and eventually, Liana was forced to let him use her skateboard whenever they met, which unfortunately was at least once a week.

"You don't even know how to ride it," she tried to instill some logic into the blonde boy. "Do you?" he asked curiously. "Not yet, but I'll learn, duh," she rolled her eyes at him. "Then I'll learn too," he shrugged and went to wash his face, returning a few minutes later as if nothing had happened.

Only those who knew Art well understood what Liana knew - he was a crybaby who was never satisfied with what he already had. His friends passed around the racket he received as if it were a chocolate cake while he continued to glance at Liana, who was trying to balance on the skateboard and nearly fell.

At the age of 12, Art was accepted into the fancy tennis boarding school he couldn't stop talking about to anyone who would listen (even those who wouldn't), and Liana was the first to arrive at the party held in his honor. She was so excited. As far as she was concerned, Art wouldn't be coming back. There was a high chance that now, with him gone, she could convince his parents that it wasn't worth maintaining him at home. He was too much of a headache, and they were too good-hearted to keep enduring his presence.

Instead of that happening, he came back with a curly-haired addition named Patrick Zweig. They shared a room at the boarding school, and now he spent half the summer with them. Every time Liana wanted to do something like go to the pool with her friends, her parents would say that the Donaldsons had a pool at their house. Every time she wanted to lie on the grass and read a book, the two noisy boys would decide to play right in front of her, until she gave up on the book and had no choice but to stare at them. It was a pity her plan didn't work, sadly Art didn't stay at his stupid boarding school forever.

By the age of 17, it was clear to everyone that Art was good at tennis. Really good at tennis. He won youth singles competitions and also did well in doubles with Patrick. Her parents forced her to attend quite a few of these tournaments.

"Li, I think you're my lucky charm," he said in front of everyone at dinner after one of the tournaments, smiling a smile that only Liana knew was malicious. Everyone melted at the touching gesture of the ultimate champion taking time for the girl he grew up with, but Liana knew Art too well. He couldn't fool her with his feigned niceness, his suddenly acquired manners. She knew him too well and knew that everything he did was always about embarrassing her and making her do something she didn't want to do. "So, are you suggesting I stop coming to your games?" she asked, taking a bite of chicken, throwing a smile of her own. Two could play this game. "You're going to be at most of my games for the rest of our lives anyway," he shrugged while Liana raised an eyebrow, and the adults around the table laughed as if they knew something Liana and Art didn't. Later, Liana sat on a chair by the pool, and Art sat next to her. She looked at him with the same expression as before, and he raised one hand in surrender. "I come with peace offerings," he pulled out a cake and two spoons from behind his back. Her raised eyebrow turned into suspicion. "What do you want?" she reached for one of the spoons. "I missed you, Li. Tell me something good," he took a bite of the cake and in response got another eye roll that made him lightly slap her hand as it reached for the cake. "You're not getting any until I hear at least one interesting story," he moved the cake as far from her as he could. "I'll just go in and get a piece for myself," she replied quickly. "There’s no more. I took the last one," he took another bite, knowing she was starting to worry about how much cake would be left for her if he finally agreed to let her have some. "I started working on my applications to Stanford," she said, and he moved the cake closer to her, finally letting her eat.

"How's it going?" he asked. They both knew Stanford was a big deal; their families had history there. Art's parents got engaged there. Everything in their lives revolved around getting into Stanford. "I'll be fine. I'm in all the extracurriculars at school, student council, and prom committees. My essay is a bit boring, needs more work, but I have a year, so maybe something will change," she shrugged and saw he hadn't eaten the last bite of the cake, leaving it for her.

"Write about your best friend and what it's like growing up in the shadow of the best tennis player in America," he said with a serious tone, and after a few seconds, he started laughing. "Write about how you miss me," he added. His laughter faded a bit as he studied her, and she went back to looking at the pool. "If I decide to lie in my university application essay, I'd rather write that I got into a modeling agency and live a double life like Hannah Montana," she replied without looking at him. "You're mean," he chuckled and stared at the pool, enjoying the silence between them.

When they went inside, Liana saw there was still half a cake left, and Art, noticing her look, just shrugged and went to talk to her dad about basketball. A year later, things got a bit complicated. Liana had a boyfriend. It wasn’t anything too serious, but he came to her and Art’s joint birthday party. Needless to say, Art and Patrick couldn’t stand him. Patrick said he smiled too much, like he wanted everyone to like him. "How can you trust a guy with a smile like that?" he asked for the third time that evening, as they stood there watching Liana talk to her parents with Jake holding her hand. "All his teeth are in place," Art responded. He felt betrayed. He felt as if tennis had betrayed him. If it weren’t for tennis and the boarding school, he would still be going to the same school Liana went to. He wouldn’t take his eyes off her, certainly not for long enough for her to have a boyfriend with a smile like that. "Do you think they’ve fucked?" Patrick asked suddenly, making Art turn his head sharply in his direction. "You think they did?" he asked back. "I don’t know. You know her better. I only talk to her on the phone occasionally," Patrick shrugged. "You talk to her on the phone???" Art asked, unable to process this new information. In his view, there wasn’t an option to talk to Liana unless she came to watch him play or their parents arranged for them to meet. The thought that Patrick and Liana had phone talks and didn’t just meet in the summer made him uncomfortable.

"Yeah, that’s what phones are for, to call people you miss," Patrick chuckled, but quickly returned to the same expression as he watched Liana and the quick kiss her annoying boyfriend gave her. "In front of her dad," they said together. Art knew her dad well. He knew that gesture wasn’t appreciated. "What do you talk to her about on the phone?" He was a bit embarrassed asking. He felt like he was losing to everyone. Losing to Liana, losing to Jake, and worst of all, losing to Patrick. "Just stuff. She called when she got accepted to Stanford, for example. I promised her I’d take her out for ice cream this summer to celebrate. And she said she stole a bottle of wine from her parents and celebrated with her friends," Patrick felt like he was rambling. He knew Liana and Art didn’t talk on the phone. He didn’t want to compete with his best friend because, well, he was his best friend. But Art had a significant advantage with Liana. He’d known her all his life. And if someone with such an advantage wasn’t making the most of it, Patrick had to step in. He had to show Art he was also in the picture. That even if they both went to Stanford, Patrick would still be around.

What none of them considered was that Liana could choose someone else entirely. That someone else might win. Come to think of it, neither of them even saw her that way. She was just Liana, the girl who was always there, in the background of their lives. And neither of them planned to change that anytime soon. Well, anyway, Jake had to disappear.

here it is. Once again, English is not my first language, and it's my first time writing in it. Hope you like it as much as I love writing it. I'd really like to hear your thoughts so don't stop yourselves from hitting the ask box ❤️

[frenchkisstheabyss]

🖤 Yours Alone 🖤

🖤 Pairing: dom!boyfriend!hongjoong x sub!fem!reader

🖤 Genre: smut

🖤 Summary: Things get interesting when you visit your boyfriend while he's on a business trip in Greece.

🖤 Word Count: 1.1k-ish

🖤 Warnings: soft dom hongjoong, praise kink, masturbation (f), fingering, nicknames (daddy, baby, good girl), edging, the filthiest of language, and remind me if I missed anything

🖤 A/N: @sailork-pop I hope this insomnia fueled one shot satisfies your wishes to be a spoiled Joong babe who gets flown out to pretty places

Hongjoong spares no expense when it comes to you. Anything you’ve ever wanted, anything you might even think you want, is yours without question. Some might say he spoils you but why shouldn’t he when you’ve always been such a good girl? You’re his goddess. His muse. His addiction. If you want the moon he’ll pluck it from the night sky and every star with it. This time around you hadn’t quite asked for the moon. Actually, you hadn’t directly asked for anything.

You’d simply called to tell him how much you missed him while he was away on business in Greece, never expecting that he’d have you on a flight to the breathtaking island of Santorini mere hours later. With gorgeous homes carved into the towering cliffs of the island surrounded by a sea that reflects a vivid blue unlike any you’ve ever witnessed, it’s been the epitome of romance since you stepped off the plane. 

But none of that is why you’re here. You didn’t drop everything to come dine at expensive restaurants or brush elbows with his friends in the fashion industry. You came to be with him. To be seen by him. To be loved by him. To be draped across the bed in his luxury suite like the beautiful creature that you are, stroking your clit through the designer lingerie he had custom-made just for you.

Hongjoong stands at the end of the bed, still dressed in the suit he wore to dinner. The one that drove you mad all night, making it impossible to focus on much else but him. He looks so good that you can’t take your eyes off of him. A feeling that’s intensely mutual. Hongjoong’s eyes are glued to you, captivated by the sight of you playing with yourself precisely as he instructed.

You make the cutest pouty face, whimpering at how heavenly the expensive silk of your panties feels brushing against your stiff clit. Hongjoong takes a deep breath, rolling up the sleeves of his dress shirt, “Aww, my girl has the prettiest little moans. Come here and let daddy see how wet you are.” “Yes, daddy” you mewl, inching closer to the foot of the bed and spreading your legs. Using two fingers he pulls your panties to the side, grinning at how drenched they are before he even gets a look at the arousal dripping from your warmth.

“I didn’t tell you to stop, did I?” he teases, his free hand reaching up to lovingly cup your cheek. Gripping your panties, he tucks them to the side, exposing every bit of your deliciously needy pussy to him. Your fingers are back at your clit, your head falling back at the jolt of pleasure you get from finally touching your bare clit. He groans, chewing at his bottom lip, his cock growing hard enough to make him regret these fitted pants.

Fuck, he wants you on his tongue so badly but that’s not a part of the plan. At least not for this round. For now, he needs you just like this, making delicate figure eights on your clit, your pussy so wet that your fingers keep slipping through your folds whenever your clit twitches from you hitting a particularly sensitive spot. “Daddy, am I doing okay?” you whine, a wave of heat washing over you. “Oh, baby,” he coos, dipping two fingers into the juices trickling from your slit, “You’re doing so well. Look at this.”

Hongjoong raises his fingers up to show how perfectly you glisten in the light. He pops them into his mouth, those few drops of you coating his tongue enough to chase off his craving. He doesn’t even try to hide how much he loves the taste of you, humming as he takes one last lick. Just knowing how hooked on your pussy he is has you teetering on the edge of your high. Your movements begin to get sloppy as your muscles weaken, your body tingling from head to toe.

Your breath hitches as your stomach winds itself into endless knots that threaten to snap without warning. “Stop” Hongjoong demands, grabbing you by the wrists and pinning your arms to your sides. You writhe beneath the pressure, slowly losing your grasp on an orgasm so close you could almost taste it. But you don’t want it, not really, unless Hongjoong says you’re allowed. 

“Are we forgetting to ask permission? We can’t have that can we?” he scolds, leaning forward to kiss your inner thighs, his lips barely skimming your clit as he moves from one thigh to the other. “I’m sorry, daddy. Can I cum? Pretty please? Can you…can you make me cum?” Hongjoong releases you, kissing his way down your leg as he rises back to his feet. “I don’t know. You were doing such a good job on your own. I don’t think you need me.”

Crawling onto your knees, you poke your bottom lip out, “But I do need you. I always need you.” Hongjoong pets your hair, contemplating his answer for what feels like a painfully long time. Without a word, he kisses you on the forehead and makes his way to the other end of the bed. When he shifts to the middle of the bed, his back to the headboard, you don’t even question that the answer’s yes.

You position yourself between his legs, leaning back so that your head rests on his chest, the scent of his cologne filling your lungs. Hongjoong wraps his arms around your waist, his embrace safe and comforting. You spread your legs, knees pressing into his, back arching as his fingers sink into your core. “Joongie, mmph” you squeak at the feeling of his other hand laying flat on your clit, rubbing back and forth at the same rapid pace of those fingers rhythmically thrusting into your pussy.

“You hear that baby?” he whispers into your ear, “Still so wet. You must really wanna make daddy happy.” “I do. Want you to be proud of me.” Hongjoong picks up his pace, moving faster and faster the tighter your walls clench around him. “What? Look at how well you take my fingers, swallowing them so fucking deep inside you. I’m always so, so proud of you, baby.”

And just like that you’re seeing stars, trembling in his arms as you gush all over the bed, his fingers tapping at your sweet spot until you can’t take it anymore. You collapse into him, whimpering even after his fingers have eased out of you. Lifting you up a bit, he grabs the blanket tousled about beneath you, bringing it up to cover you as you cuddle up together.

“Hey,” he says softly, kissing you on the cheek. You smile up at him, your eyes bright and loving, “Yeah?” “I really missed you too.”

[badbugbotblood]

Mini conspiracy to do with lrt actually because this has been rotting my brain. The timeline doesn't necessarily make sense because there is like a small ocean of time between the unplugging of TurboTime and Turbo's incursion into Sugar Rush, BUT HEAR ME OUT!

So we know that the visual design, vocal flair and body language of King Candy is HEAVILY inspired by Disney's Mad Hatter from their original animated Alice in Wonderland (1951). The resemblance is extremely deliberate. The hair, the high collar, the iconic lisp, the presentation.

But if we look at King Candy's visual design when compared to the other human avatars of SUGAR RUSH, our little faux monarch here does NOT STYLISTICALLY MATCH UP!

The racers of Sugar Rush are very clearly emulating a typical cutesy Japanese 'chibi' style. Round heads, big eyes, little noses, and legs that (while not so long as to be anatomically realistic) fit the proportions of their bodies. Their outfits are sleek and their silhouettes are quite thin.

King Candy does not follow this same design philosophy at all (and it's for this reason that I also personally believe that King Candy's appearance as a whole was a fabrication of Turbo's, rather than an unfinished NPC character whose model he commandeered).

I think an interesting in-universe explanation for King Candy's appearance could come from another game. One which Turbo would have known well.

After all, TurboTime had had a neighbor in Fix-It Felix Jr.

While their design language definitely does not line up 1:1, I see more of Felix in King Candy's appearance than I do the likeness of any Sugar Rush avatar. There are some commonalities in the facial proportions of King Candy and Fix-It Felix. Their heads are taller, eyes are smaller, and their mouths are wider. And then there is the nose, which is to me and my delulu brain the most obvious visual similarity between these two.

So. Say you're a societal pariah after doing something seriously taboo, and you need to blend in with a group of newly-arrived strangers in order to avoid being caught and punished for your misdeeds. There's not much time, and you need to get your affairs in order before anyone realizes what you're doing.

I think that, with his take-over of Sugar Rush being an extremely time-sensitive ordeal, Turbo had very little chance to devise the perfect disguise. So he cheated just a bit, took inspiration from a place that was familiar to him.

His own appearance, ghoulish and grey, dressed in blazing red over stark white, that would never fly in such a whimsical world. But he once knew a cast of characters with designs that all the Players found appealing at that time, and he fell back on that knowledge to craft his royal façade. All he knew for sure was that his avatar had to be cute, colorful and coherent.

The end result definitely doesn't scream Sugar Rush when you really scrutinize it, but it held up for fifteen years. Fifteen wonderful years full of racing and ruling and winning to his heart's content. Turbo was satisfied, maybe even truly happy.

I wonder if part of his apparent surprise during the Big Twist Villain Reveal(tm) came from him not immediately recognizing the ashy grey skin beneath the mask he'd built more than a decade ago. After all, he'd spent right around half of his entire life as the one and only King Candy, the benevolent monarch and best racer of Sugar Rush.

He would have been more than happy to leave his loathsome original avatar behind with the rest of the eight-bit era. It had done him no favors even when he wasn't old news just yet.

How unfortunate for him that the pesky Glitch had different ideas.

[heich0e]

tags: pls look away, inspired by this art by @/iinoruu, yakuza!suna/escort!reader series masterlist

The first thing you recognize as you stir from the loosening grip of slumber is that your body hurts.

An ache, tender and warm, has rooted itself deep in your muscles. Your back. Your thighs. Your hips. Just rolling over under the soft cotton sheets exacerbates the pain, makes it throb a little hotter underneath your skin.

The second thing you recognize is the familiar smell of smoke.

"You should quit, y'know."

At the window of the hotel room, Suna stands. He's half-dressed now, silhouetted by the breaking day beyond the pane of glass beside him, his trousers on but his button-up still unbuttoned—it leaves just the faintest curl of the ink that spans his arm and his back on display, a sliver of black swirling next to the divot of his collarbone, as well as the design that spans the column of his throat. He looks at you with the burning cigarette still held to his lips, and you watch as the cherry flares brighter on his inhale.

You're not supposed to smoke here. Not in a hotel this nice. But you doubt anyone will be complaining to him, or will even say anything at all, given his particular influence and his reputation in his line of work.

"I should?" he replies in his usual low tone. The corner of his mouth is ever so slightly turned up, and a wisp of smoke rushes out along with his question.

He pauses for a moment, and then stamps the mostly-unfinished cigarette out in the ashtray on the table in front of him—where it came from in a room you're not supposed to smoke in to begin with, you can't be completely sure.

You push yourself up in bed, wincing at the pain such a simple movement causes. You rub at your eyes a little, still bleary from sleep. "It's bad for you."

Suna hums.

"I didn't realize you cared."

You bite your tongue from letting a comment slip out that could get you into trouble. Instead, you flop back down into the embrace of soft cotton and feathers that the plush hotel bed provides.

"Do what you want, then," you say quietly.

He's good at that, after all.

"What I want?" you hear him ask, and let your head loll to the side against the pillows just in time to see him approach the bed. His movements are slow, unhurried—like a predator as it stalks in the night.

You don't offer him any substantial reply, just a breathy, affirmative sound.

You're lucky to have this job. Lucky to be the one that Suna Rintarou calls for so often. Of all the girls that work at the club, you seem to be the only one that's caught his eye as of late. You know that if you do something to mess that up it might cost you more than just the thick stack of crisp bills you leave the hotel with a few times a week.

You've never been the most successful girl at the club, nor the least. Your performance and popularity has always been relatively middling, comparatively unremarkable. You're not bad at the job by any means, you know what to say and do, the line you have to walk, the fantasy you have to satisfy when duty calls.

Lately that line has proven harder to toe with him.

Suna kneels at the edge of the wide mattress, leaning across the bed towards you. His shirt falls open as he angles his body nearer to your own, revealing more of the tattoo that's etched into his skin. It's always a stark, indelible reminder of just who and what he is.

"It's pretty bold of you to assume to know the things I want," he murmurs, holding himself over you on one of his arms. His other reaches down to the top of the sheet that covers you, peeling it gently away to reveal your skin.

On instinct, you grab for it, rushing to cover yourself. You realize quickly it's not your place to hide yourself from him, that it's not what he pays you for, and you let your grip on the sheet slacken, looking away as a shameful heat crawls up your throat.

He doesn't try to pull the blanket away again.

"You woke up too early," he says quietly, still hovering over you. "You should sleep, you're still sore."

You watch as his eyes trace your face in the dim light of the hotel room.

"Are you leaving?" you ask.

That same little smile appears, lifting the edge of his lips ever so slightly. This expression always confuses you, though he makes it often. There's no real joy behind it, it's a drier, almost sardonic twist of his mouth, like he knows something you don't.

"Work," he says, though he owes you of all people no explanation. "I'll leave the cash on the table by the door as usual, I won't short you for any of your time."

You nod slightly. You hadn't been thinking about payment at all.

The corner of Suna's nose twitches. It's a movement so slight that if you weren't so terribly close you might not notice it at all. There's something behind his perpetually heavy-lidded eyes that makes you nervous.

His hand, the one that had just reached for the blanket, comes up to cup your cheek. You can still detect the scent of tobacco that clings to his skin, and you've never liked the smell but for some reason you don't mind it so much anymore. He dips down, your cheek cradled in his palm, and slots his mouth against yours.

His kiss isn't innocent—no one kisses a whore chastely—but there's something about the way he's holding you that feels different. Something in the gesture that's wholly and completely him.

He pulls away, and his warm breath fans across your mouth and catches in the slickness of your lips. Your eyes flutter open to look up at him.

Something aches in your chest, different from the way the rest of your body has been left tender but no less his fault.

Maybe Suna isn't the only one with habits that are bad for him, after all.

[karl-jensen]

Henry and the Great Western Fiasco, 1919

This drawing that I made on December of last year was based on Henry's old shape and who built him. To pair up with the drawing, I also made a headcanon concerning Henry's old shape and who built him and it just so happens to be related to a failed Pacific locomotive that a certain railway experimented on.

H E A D C A N O N T I M E .

The Great Bear

Our story begins in 1908 in Swindon Works when Chief Engineer George Jackson Churchward designed an experimental engine that can haul passenger and freight trains. This came in the form of Number 111, also known as The Great Bear. The engine turned out to be a failure due to some issues with its boiler, which resulted in the engine being converted into a Castle-class Locomotive in January 1924. Churchward was distraught at his optimistic ambition being turned into a failure, but when he had heard news that Scottish-born Chief Engineer Sir Nigel Gresley was going to design a Pacific Express Locomotive, he remarked with "What did that young man want to build it for? We could have sold him ours!"

Churchward vs. Gresley

Illustrations of Henry's old shape in the Railway Series featured a brass-tip on his funnel which was common on locomotives of the Great Western Railway meaning that the original illustrator Reginald Payne associated Great Bear to Henry. Hints are present as to why I made Henry a Great Western engine.

Seeing a brass-tipped funnel on Henry looked very odd to me. Doesn't it remind you of the Great Western Railway?

During the design process of the now famous A1 Pacifics of the London and North Eastern Railway, an unknown engineer sent out thieves to steal plans for Gresley's express locomotives. People say that the engineer was old Mr. Churchward who still could not recover from the failure of his experimental Pacific. A Blueprint was stolen, but it wasn't the latest design that Gresley had drawn up, but an earlier design that he drew up in 1915 when the Great War was at full swing. The drawing had a boiler that was quite small which made Gresley think about the consequences. However, a certain Swindon Engineer decided to build it to satisfy his needs. That man was George Jackson Churchward.

And so, the engine was built under the orders of Mr. Churchward. He had placed William Stanier as the technical advisor of his latest Pacific project. Stanier recommended that he redesign the engine and add a larger firebox, but due to Churchward's decisions it didn't happen. The engine was finally built in 1919 and was given a name - and that is Vanguard. However, Factory Workers would often call the engine Henry.

When Henry rolled out of the factory, he was given a nice healthy batch of Welsh Coal for testing. Great Bear wasn't pleased when Henry rolled out and thought that he'll outperform him. When the first trial run came, Henry was steaming properly while pulling a heavy train consisting of twelve coaches jam-packed with passengers. Great Bear envied him, but when Henry was put into regular passenger service, the same problems from Great Bear finally showed up when he was given a batch of regular coal. With this, Henry was deemed a failure and was planned for scrapping. However, when a Railway Director was buying a locomotive (specifically a 4-4-2 Atlantic), he received a Pacific-type locomotive in the form of Henry. His remarks were quite enraged and profanity-filled.

"I wanted an Atlantic. But that stupid, son of a bitch gave me that instead!"

— Sir Topham Hatt I, 1922

Henry was planned to be scrapped indeed, but when the Director saw Henry's sad expression, he had no choice but to give him a chance. The rest is history.

Mr. Stanier's Chance

After Henry's infamous crash with the Flying Kipper in January 1935. He was sent to Crewe Works to be rebuilt entirely. The engine was skeptical until he met a familiar face that he had seen years ago back when he was in Swindon.

"When I first met Henry at Crewe, I was very surprised to see him in such a beaten-up state. I had intentions in redesigning him prior to being built, but that impatient old man [Churchward] did not listen. Seeing him like this made me want to redesign him entirely, but would cost me plenty of money to create a new boiler and frame for him, as well as a new tender. Instead, I went for the cheaper alternative and turned him into a Black 5 instead of what was supposed to be a 'prototype' for the Coronation class."

— Sir William Stanier, 1948 Interview

Sir Topham Hatt did not have enough money to completely convert Henry into a Princess Royal or redesign him entirely. Instead, he decided to turn Henry into a Ten Wheeler. His smokebox and front wheels remained, but the trailing wheels were discarded. Everything else were parts from the Black 5, including his Tender.

"Being rebuilt entirely was a huge blessing for me, and many people sent me 'Get Well Soon' cards and flowers while I was at Crewe. My smokebox and wheels were retained while many of my old parts were scrapped or perhaps reused as spares. I now felt better after that fix up at Crewe, and I managed to share stories with Mr. Stanier, whom I first met in Swindon when I was in my old shape."

— Henry, 1963 Interview

During his rebuild, he met several Princess Royals that were being maintained. Mr. Stanier explained to him that he was the inspiration into building a Pacific locomotive.

"Seeing those beautiful engines made me want to cry, since they told me that I was the inspiration for their design. The Princess Royals were meant to be the success that Mr. Churchward wanted, but failed to achieve. I do envy him and wished that he had the patience to make his dream come true. Great Bear would have seen those beauties."

— Henry, 1963 Interview

The rest is history...

And as for the laconic version or the TLDR:

Henry was designed by George Jackson Churchward as a second attempt for a Pacific Locomotive for the Great Western Railway.

[bonny-kookoo]

Bonny we love everything you do! If you are up to, what about IT girl has a date and jk open a live coincidently on the same day and time so she cannot go

(Ps: Her date is an asshole and jk knows it)

You guys have really made me wanna write this... Warnings for Jungkook's internal dirty thoughts haha

First part: here

There's no fucking way he will let you go on a date with someone like sangwook. Absolutely not.

You're way too nice to say no to the guy, and he himself knows that the staff member has a certain way with words, knows how to get his way. But Jungkook has also heard the horror stories of the guy getting girls drunk until they're barely conscious, just so he can have his way with them- and he won't just sit here and let that happen to you of all people.

Not if he can do anything about it.

Jungkook and you had honestly had a great time when you eventually came over to eat the re-heated instant noodles together. He learned some stuff about you, about your interest, about who you are apart from just your job. You share a lot more interests with him than initially thought, both of you having a love for gaming and good food. And he especially enjoyed how natural you were, treating him like a normal person, not like the idol he is.

Maybe that's why he just can't let you go now.

He'd heard of the date from Sangwook himself- he'd been chatting with another female staff about you, and how he'll 'find out' if you're 'as innocent' as you apparently act. It made Jungkook feel like throwing up, a guy like that potentially filling you up with alcohol just to eat you like prey- he can't let that happen.

You've told him how you seek love, romance, excitement and something almost childish.

Exactly what he wants, too.

So he goes live, the only way he knows he will keep you there, well aware that you take your job (hopefully) too seriously to go on a date instead. He doesn't know how close you are with him yet- maybe it's a lost cause, maybe Sangwook had been the reason you'd been so hesitant with jungkook in the first place-

But he has to try.

"Hm, hello." He greets the fans, but more so you who he hopes is watching on the other side. "Its quite sudden, isn't it?" He chuckles, holding onto the iced wine in the glass mug in front of him. "Looks like a date? Ah, yes it does, doesn't it?" He grins, acting all shy.

And there it is. An angry smiley- several, even.

It makes him chuckle as he reads the comments and imagines you fuming in your home, but he can take the heat coming his way if he at least prevents that horrible date from happening. Have you already started to get ready? He wonders what you might look like all dolled up. In a short dress maybe, one that hugs your curves just right, with simple delicate straps holding it up over your shoulders. He knows you need no fancy designer shit.

He'd rip it off of you either way.

"Army.." he hums, referring to the fans, but hoping that you get the message most of all. "If you go on dates, late- you be careful, right?" He says, taking a sip of his iced wine, before setting the mug down, and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. There's another round of emojis flooding in, and he can't help but laugh.

He continues this game for almost an hour, making sure that your date was not happening, before he ends the live.

And not even half an hour later, you're in his apartment, fuming, angry, upset. But you're there, and not with him, so Jungkook can't help but be satisfied.

Especially at the sight of you in a strapless denim-dress. Short, but long enough to cover you comfortably. The fabric stretches a bit over your curves, tits looking so good but a little uncomfortable. He would just have to pull down a little, just a tiny bit, and they'd spill out, he's sure of it. He can't see bra straps.

Are you not wearing one? Interesting.

You're pushing him lightly. "You asshole!" You yell at him. "You knew I had a date! You knew it!" You complain, and he nods, a simple smile on his face, and it only angers you more. "Stop laughing!" You demand, but he just raises his hands as if to show you he's no threat, but you just reach out to push him again-

But instead he pulls your wrists towards him, wraps his arms around you, completely catching you off guard as he holds you close, trying hard to ignore your body's warmth against his.

"I'm glad you didn't go." He says, and it sounds surprisingly serious. "I was worried you might." He tells you, and you hate how good he looks, how good he smells.

"Cause you wouldn't have someone to play around with?" You mumble still angry, and he chuckles.

"I'm not playing with you." He denies, swaying you both from side to side a little. "I really am not." He says as if to make sure his point gets to you.

"And yet you still ruined my date.." you complain.

"Sangwook isn't worth your time." He shakes his head.

"Oh but you are?" You scoff. He chuckles. Again.

"I mean, you're here, are you not?" He states.

You are. And you're not sure why you're here, why you didn't at least change, why you don't want to leave just yet.

"To tell you to stop trying to ruin my love life." You snap back in defense, and he laughs.

"Then stop trying to ruin mine." He says back, making you freeze in his arms before you both detach a little. "I thought we were good? Why did you agree to that date?" He wonders, and you shrug, crossing your arms.

"He asked... nicely, you know?" You say, looking at the floor.

"And you couldn't say no." He sighs. "Because you're too nice yourself." He scolds softly.

"I just.. wanted to, you know, talk to someone. Be social. Spend my evening with something else than animal crossing and icecream.." you try and justify yourself, and Jungkook suddenly opens his arms wide, shaking his head before he hits his chest.

"Am I not right here?" He complains. "Am I just an illusion or something?"

"..no?" You wonder, and he tilts his head in irritation for a moment.

"Then why am I not an option for you?" He asks, a little agitated. "I thought we were fine last time you were here. We had a really good time, talked, fuck I thought we were going somewhere!" He complains.

"I'm just.. scared." You say, and he runs a hand over his face.

"I know." He nods. "Lets just- okay. Do you want to try this?" He asks, motioning between you and him. "Yes or no."

"I don't know-" you start, but he shakes his head.

"Not an answer, try again." He tells you, crossing his arms.

"Jungkook what if we get caught-" You start again, but he denies it again.

"Yes or no. It's pretty easy." He says.

"What's your answer?" You ask, and he throws his head back in agony. "Okay, yeah- yes? But-"

"Good, great, fuck!" He barks out to no one, before he holds your face in his palms. "Just trust me. Please." He begs, eyes sparkling in both the light of the candle on his kitchen table, and the neon colored laser points traveling all around his walls from his moodlight.

"What do you want from me?" You ask, and he smiles.

"Your love." He answers, before he shrugs playfully. "And maybe the occasional fuck on the couch if I'm in the mood-" he starts, and you hit his chest at that, though you laugh.

"So you really do just want to screw me!" You whine, crossing your arms- unaware of how you're pushing up your cleavage.

"No, baby." He shakes his head, tongue running over his lip piercing. "I don't only want to fuck you." He answers.

"Though I won't say no if you're ever offering."

[w1shb0n3z]

Chilchuck girldad shenanigans!!! +Senshi's thoughts on mlp at the very end

(Brace yourself. This is a long one)

What's Chilchuck's favorite girldad activity? It's not doing their hair, no. That's just something he's been praised on. Being able to put his girls hair up in different styles whenever his wife wasn't around was seen as very admirable and lots of people complemented him on it. Especially non-half-foots (becuase they seem to think the father is less involved in the kids life LMAO) And though his daughters loved when their dad did their hair, they much proffered when their mom did it since it was neater

Chilchuck's favorite girldad activity (well, general girldad activity) is actually playing pretend. He seems like the type to just playfully scoff at kids he sees engaging in an outrageous, glorified LARPing session. And he is. He is that type. He thinks it's playing pretend is silly. But, when it comes to his daughters, it's charming.

He found some genuine entertainment when he was making believe with his little ones while they were young. Fully immersed in the ever complicated plot and nonsensical characters, he loved seeing the spark in their eyes and the giggle in their voices as they played out their fantasies. He'd also like to be dense from time to time just for the reaction it got. Saying things like "but bears can't fly" or "I thought you said princesses couldn't swim" be uase there's something very humorous about being scolded by a toddler

Once the girls got older, though, his favorite activities became specific to the kid.

For Meijack, his mini-me, it was teaching her his craft. For Flertom, the one that looks just like her mother, it was makeovers. And with Puckpatti, his bright-eyed youngest, it was shopping.

A little more of Meijack

She had taken an interest in locksmithing when she was young; so much so that she would often swipe a spare lock when her dad wasn't looking. Mei had proven herself to he a very crafty and tactile person. After about the 15th time, Chilchuck was tired of this and decided to improvise.

He took a nice square wooden board, sanded it down to make sure no mishaps would occur, and then attached some latches, locks, and other miscellaneous things to it. He essentially made a busy board for Mei, and she loved it. She would often be found in her room, buckling and unbluckling, messing with straps and zippers and locks and ties.

He'd make her a new board each year on her birthday; that is, until she turned 5. After that, she got puzzle boxes, and each year, they'd get more and more complex. If they were invented at the time, Mei would totally fuck up a Rubix cube on the low.

Expanding a bit on Flertom

After finding baby Fler with a face smeared with her mom's ruby red lipstick, Chilchuck knew he had a future full of make-up modeling. So following that incident, he bought Fler her own little make-up kit.

Initially, little Fler was satisfied just beautifying her own face, then showing it off to her dad; however, she did start feel like good old papa Chuck was missing out on the fun, so she pressured him into letting her put some eyeshadow on him. It was bright blue, it was messy, and it was awful to apply.

After a year or two, the make-overs got better and better. 10 year old Fler was becoming quite talented with her cosmetic skills. She'd gone from doing outlandish looks on her dad to actually finding styles that fit him and testing out new ideas on him.

What about Puckpatti?

Now I did say that Puckpatti's designated activity was shopping, but what I meant to say was haggling down prices and looking for deals. Ever since she was young, the adorable, unassuming half-foot had a knack for bargaining— even while trading toys in the playground or snacks in the lunchroom.

Chilchuck first noticed Patti's gift after she came home from school with a necklace on. ...She certainly didn't come to school with it, so it's safe to say Chilchuck was confused. Once he found out what actually happened, he did get Patri to return the necklace and focused her abilities to learning how to shop efficiently.

Patti truly did enjoy shopping with her dad. And kn occasoik they would go to different shopping centers together. Chilchuck would always get discounted tools, courtesy of Patti, and Patti would find a pair of shoes or some fruit and nealry cut the price in half. They go wandering place to place, talking and spotting the best deals, It's always a fun and productive time!

Now to Senshi

If you've made it this far, congrats! Here's your reward

Either in a modern AU, or just due some crazy magical force, Senshi finds out about MLP.

Now, would he watch this on his own? Nope. A colorful show about ponies doesn't catch his eye, so sorry.

But let's just say he ends up watching MLP. (Moslty because in this scenario, Marcille had mentioned liking the show and senshi heard it was about horses- or well, ponies)

After whatching a few episodes he's come to a few conclusions and has gained a couple of opinions.

Who's his favorite character? Big Mac

Who's his least favorite characters? Diamond Tiara, Silverspoon, Gilda, Rainbowdash, and Rarity

He does NOT fw the them.

His opinions on the mane 6 + a few more

Twilight: very uptight, but has the potential to be a leader of some kind. Not a personal favorite

Fluttershy: Thinks she needs some guidance and to grow a backbone, but is very impressed witb her connection to the fuana

Rarity: Does NOT like her. Thinks she's spoiled and prissy and snippy

Applejack: Likes her! Think she's nice and hard working and well rounded

Rainbowdash: Think she does wayyy to much. Someone needs to teach her not to be so full of herself. He legitimately didn't want to watch some of the episodes because he felt like rainbowdash was just being an ass (some with Rarity)

Pinkie pie: Too hyper for his taste. Thinks she's pretty odd

Spike: he finds the idea of keeping a small dragon as a...well, a little brother figure, to be odd. He doesn't get the fact that Spike has a crush on Rarity and thinks that the gang should treat him with more respect

Zecora: Another character he actually likes. The episode introducing her frustrated him a LOT, he actually haf to pause it becuase all that pony racism was too much for him

Luna/Nightmare Moon: He's iffy about her. Ay first, he didn't have too much of an opinion on her, but once he figured out her deal, he liked her a little. He doesn't blame her for turning evil at all

Celestia: Thinks she's USELESS. Oh my god. He's confused because she seems like she should be a queen and not a princess, but based on what she sees her do, he isn't surprised that her status is princess

[gracefireheart]

A collection of drawings I did of Bunnyblade Origins!Technoblade (along with a few friends).

First drawing (November 24th 2021) - One of the first drawings I did of o!Techno after he revealed his origin. I liked this design at the time, but later on, I decided to change it and liked how it looked more in that later design.

Second drawing (December 18th 2021) - Just a cute lil’ drawing I wanted to do of Niki and Techno where I originally was hoping for them have some fun interactions in season 3 of the origins server.

Third drawing (December 20th 2021) - Sneeg and Techno are just a fun combo tbh. The stream where these two + Phil were just having fun in the season 2 origins server is still one of my favorites.

Fourth drawing (January 7th 2022) - Tommy and Techno can be such a chaotic duo. Whether it’s them trying to screw with Phil or the two of them going on a mining trip together. It was just fun to watch.

Fifth drawing (January 9th 2022) - Tbh, just wanted to draw the meme with Techno and Ranboo lol

Sixth drawing (March 28th 2022) - Decided to redo the design a bit as I wasn’t quite satisfied with it. And eventually, it landed on a more rounded version that I liked way more.

Seventh drawing (April 9th 2022) - The last drawing I did of o!Techno, which I’m still pretty happy with. I might try and draw him again soon considering the origins server is coming back to life again, but idk yet.

Eight drawing (October 2nd 2021) - Before he chose the frog Mario goat kangaroo bunny origin, many of us had theorized that he might choose something like a wither skeleton origin (aka what this drawing is supposed to be of), which came with it’s own share of HCs and scenarios people thought up. But it’s safe to say that a lot of people loved that he chose the bunny origin instead :]