#idk what else to tag without doing every character

[chipthekeeper]

lately i have been a bit miffed by the lack of awareness when it comes to queer characters, and more specifically sapphic characters, in the Star Wars canon. so, in my capacity as the patron saint of lesbian visibility, i've decided to quit whining about it and be the one to spread some knowledge

without further ado.....a very long and obnoxious lesson

now let me tell you about them. in detail. through very specific categories

you don't have anything else to do, right?

CATEGORY ONE: GAY. ON. SCREEN.

they're gay. on screen.

CATEGORY TWO: THE A WORD

Doctor Aphra and her web of lesbianity

CATEGORY THREE: HANDGAYDENS

Padme Amidala and her gay handmaidens

CATEGORY FOUR: THE HIGHLY GAY REPUBLIC

all the many, many queers of the golden age of the jedi

CATEGORY FIVE: VIDEO GAYMES

queers from the Jedi games and related media

CATEGORY SIX: GAY FROM A CERTAIN POINT OF VIEW

characters created for or made queer in the From a Certain Point of View books

CATEGORY SEVEN: COMICALLY QUEER

wlws from comics not involved with Aphra

CATEGORY EIGHT: BOOKED AND GAY

characters who are gay in books, even if nowhere else

whew. still here?

thank you for scrolling all the way through this. if you are interested in talking about any of these people or want to know how to learn more about them on your own, my inbox is always open!!

and seriously folks, if you’re interested in any of them i implore you: read their stories, write fic, make art!!! the more we show that these characters are appreciated and talked about, the more likely we are to get more like them, and hopefully more that are even better and more visible rep

that’s all from me. have a gay day

[papercutsmp3]

bro is inquisitive

[museaway]

✍️ yet another list of fic writer asks

You all seem to like these, so here is another batch of writer asks! These questions are a little more relaxed than the last two. Followers can send an ask with a number OR you can reblog and answer everything like a Q&A. I always see a lot of “idk if i’m a writer” in the tags for these so let me just say in advance, yes you are and you can play.

What is the crackiest* thing you’ve ever written? (*I mean this with great affection)

Has writing a fic ever changed your opinion of a character?

Tell us about a headcanon you invented for a fic

Have you ever written a fic inspired by a tumblr post?

How do you know when you’re finished writing a fic? At what point do you call it done?

When do you title your fics? Before you write them? As you write them? While posting to AO3 and that “Work Title” field is staring at you?

Navigate to your complete list of works on AO3. What are your top 5 Additional Tags?

Tell us your shortest and longest titles of all time

The two fandoms you’ve written the most have been suddenly crossed with each other! What AU are you writing?

What’s a phrase you catch yourself using in multiple fics, not necessarily on purpose?

Oh no! You’re posting a fic to AO3 and completely forgot to write a summary. What is your summary-writing strategy?

Do you write in order, jump around the draft, or a mix? Something else?

Congratulations, you’ve just finished the WIP you’ve been working on for months! How are you going to celebrate?

Is there a word or phrase you intentionally use in every fic?

How many times has someone nodded in your current WIP? This is for posterity so be honest

Describe your current WIP with just emojis

When you get a new fic idea, what does that look like in your mind? Does it play out like a film? Do you imagine lines of dialogue or a certain moment? Does a character just sit there staring at you?

If you have noticed themes emerging in your writing, what are they? What broad themes and topics do you enjoy exploring?

It’s a lovely morning in fandom land and a horrible goose is running rampant through your folders. How many WIPs is it going to step on?

What’s the story behind your pen name?

Without getting into any discourse, just thinking as a writer approaching characters, would you ever write about your NOTP? If you did, do you think that would change how you feel about it? (If you’ve done this, how did it go?)

Do you have a fixed writing routine, or do you write when you have time? Is there a time of day when you prefer to write?

What is your #1 distraction when you’re trying to write? If it’s a pet, post a pic

What colors, sights, sounds, textures, etc. inspire you? Do certain environments make you feel more creative than others?

Someone you know outside of fandom has heard that you’re a writer. “I’d like to read something of yours!” they say with sincere enthusiasm. “Where can I find it?” What’s your answer?

Do you have a routine you run through before you write?

Share a random sentence from a WIP. The less context, the better. Be confusing.

You’re out and about, nowhere near your home, when a fantastic story idea pops into your head! What do you do?

Have you ever actually remembered one of those 3am “I’ll remember it in the morning” ideas?

Finish this sentence with your fandom’s variation(s): No beta, we die like _________

[aventurineswife]

Hii, silly but relatable request. Aventurine, Loucha, Caelus, Jingyuan, Yingxing and Jiaoqiu taking care of reader while they're having period and struggling with cramps

-🧀

Through Every Ache

Tags: Caelus x Reader, Luocha x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Jing Yuan x Reader, Yingxing x Reader, Jiaoqiu x Reader, Fluff, Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship (Implied), Period Cramps, Soft & Caring Characters, Domestic Moments, Light Humor.

Warnings: Mentions of Menstrual Pain, Slight Physical Touch (Hand-holding, Massages, Cuddling), Some may tease in a playful manner, Mild Language (if that counts...?).

A/N: I always wanted to write for Yingxing but uh idk (i was too scared lmaoo), I probably wrote him ooc 😔💔

The hum of the Astral Express was usually a comforting background noise, but today, it did little to distract you from the cramps twisting in your lower abdomen. You curled up on the lounge couch, pressing a heating pad against your stomach with a grimace.

Caelus walked in, pausing as he noticed your discomfort. He knelt beside you, concern flickering in his eyes.

"Are you alright?" he asked, voice gentle.

You groaned in response, shifting to ease the pain. "Cramps. I feel like I'm being personally attacked by the cosmos."

He nodded, as if understanding some great battle you were facing. Without hesitation, he grabbed a thick blanket and draped it over you, tucking in the edges to keep you warm. "I'll get you something," he said, disappearing into the pantry. Moments later, he returned with a steaming cup of herbal tea. "Pom-Pom said this might help."

You took it gratefully, relishing the warmth in your hands. "You're a lifesaver."

He sat down beside you, resting a hand on your knee. "I wish I could fight it for you, but since I can't, I'll just keep you company."

You managed a small smile. "That's more than enough."

He leaned back, watching over you as you sipped your tea, making sure you had everything you needed.

You clutched your stomach, wincing as another wave of pain rolled through you. The day had been long, and the cramps only seemed to worsen. You hadn’t noticed Loucha’s approach until his voice broke through your daze.

"You're in pain."

His statement wasn’t a question but an observation, laced with quiet concern. Before you could brush it off, he was already reaching into his coat, producing a small pouch.

"Here," he said, offering you a herbal remedy wrapped in delicate cloth. "This should help ease the pain."

You looked at him in mild surprise but didn’t hesitate to take it, trusting his expertise. "Thank you."

Loucha nodded, kneeling beside you as you swallowed the bitter herbs. "I can apply acupressure," he offered after a moment. "It may lessen the discomfort."

You hesitated only briefly before nodding. His hands were warm as he pressed carefully against your palm and wrist, moving with practiced ease. To your amazement, the sharp cramps dulled slightly.

"Better?" he asked, watching you closely.

You exhaled in relief. "Much. You're really good at this."

He offered a small smile, tilting his head. "It’s my duty to care for others. And you, most of all."

"You’re making that face again," Yingxing remarked as he sat beside you, his arms crossed. "The one that says you’re suffering but too stubborn to do anything about it."

You groaned, curling up tighter. "What else am I supposed to do? My uterus hates me."

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "Alright, up you go."

You shot him a glare. "Absolutely not."

But Yingxing was persistent. With surprising gentleness, he slid his arms under you and effortlessly lifted you, settling you against his chest as if you weighed nothing. The warmth of his body was immediate, soothing in a way you hadn’t expected.

"You’re warm," you mumbled, letting yourself relax against him.

He smirked. "I know."

He adjusted you slightly, one hand rubbing slow, firm circles against your back. "Just breathe through it," he said, his voice softer now. "I’ve got you."

Despite yourself, you found comfort in his embrace, the steady rise and fall of his chest grounding you. He stayed like that, holding you close until the pain dulled enough for you to finally drift off into much-needed rest.

He murmured, almost to himself, "I’ll keep you safe, even from this."

And somehow, you believed him.

You groaned, curling into yourself on the couch as a particularly sharp cramp shot through your lower abdomen. Aventurine, lounging in a nearby chair with a glass of wine in hand, arched a brow at your discomfort. "Oh dear, has fate dealt you a bad hand today?" he mused, setting his glass down with exaggerated pity.

You shot him a glare. "Aventurine, I swear if you say anything about luck right now, I will throw this heating pad at you."

A smirk tugged at his lips, but he stood and walked over, kneeling beside you. "Noted. So, what's the best way to handle this? Do I bribe your cramps away with extravagant gifts, or shall I gamble on a more practical approach?"

You groaned again, pressing the heating pad harder against your stomach. "Just… be useful for once."

With a dramatic sigh, he rolled up his sleeves. "Darling, you wound me." Still, he got to work—fetching you a warm drink, ensuring your blanket was tucked properly around you, and even offering to massage your lower back. Though Aventurine enjoyed chaos, he wasn’t oblivious to your suffering. He gently pressed his fingers against the sore spots on your back, applying just enough pressure to soothe the tension. "Better?" he murmured, an unusual softness in his tone.

You hummed, letting your eyes drift shut. "You should be this sweet more often."

He chuckled, a low, amused sound. "Ah, but then where would be the fun in surprising you?"

You chose to ignore him, focusing instead on the way his hands worked away the pain. Maybe, just maybe, luck was on your side today after all.

You were curled up in bed, clutching your stomach as waves of pain rolled through you. It was miserable. So miserable that not even the idea of getting up for tea seemed worth it.

Jing Yuan, ever the observant general, had noticed your discomfort early on. Instead of lazing about as he often did, he had busied himself gathering everything you might need. When he finally returned, he set a steaming cup of herbal tea on your nightstand and sat at the edge of the bed, brushing his fingers through your hair.

"Ah, my poor dear, even a lion has days where it must rest," he said gently, his golden eyes filled with quiet concern. "Have you taken anything for the pain?"

You mumbled something incoherent, pressing your face into the pillow. The weight of the bed shifted as he laid beside you, wrapping an arm around your waist. His warmth seeped into your aching muscles, and for a moment, you felt like you could breathe a little easier.

"Let me guess… you'd like to stay here all day?" he teased lightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"Mm-hmm," you mumbled. "Preferably with you as my human heater."

He chuckled, pulling you closer. "Consider it done. The Cloud Knights will survive a day without me."

"You sure?" you murmured, already feeling the lull of sleep thanks to his presence.

"Absolutely," he whispered. "After all, what kind of general would I be if I let my most beloved suffer alone?"

The scent of medicinal herbs filled the room as Jiaoqiu carefully stirred a pot over a small flame. His fox ears twitched as he listened for any signs of discomfort from you, his closed eyes making him rely on other senses. When you let out a small whimper from the couch, he immediately turned toward you.

"How bad is it?" he asked softly, walking over with measured steps. Though his vision was gone, he moved with practiced ease, placing a warm hand on your forehead. "You're tense. The tea should be ready soon."

You sighed. "I hate this. Why did nature have to curse us like this?"

Jiaoqiu let out a small chuckle. "If I had the answer, I would offer it gladly. But for now, let’s focus on relief, yes?"

You felt the couch dip as he sat beside you, carefully placing the tea in your hands. His fingers lingered over yours, a subtle check to make sure you had a firm grip before he let go. "Drink slowly. It’ll help with the pain."

You took a small sip, surprised by the sweetness. "It’s not bitter."

"Of course not. I tailored it for you," he said, a small, pleased smile on his lips. "Healing isn’t just about function; it’s about comfort too."

As you drank, he carefully placed a warm cloth over your lower stomach, letting the heat seep into your muscles. His ears flicked as he heard your relieved sigh, and though he couldn’t see your face, he could tell you were beginning to relax.

"You’re too good to me," you murmured, leaning against his shoulder.

Jiaoqiu hesitated for only a moment before tilting his head slightly to rest against yours. "Only because you deserve it."

[daxisyzz]

As the world caves in

Pairing: Bucky Barnes × Reader

Summary: What was supposed to be a simple mission turns into a nightmare when Bucky and the reader lose contact with their team and find themselves trapped in a collapsing Hydra base. As the world crumbles around them, they cling to each other, holding onto love even in the face of the inevitable.

Word count: 2.2k+

Warnings and tags: Angst, hurt/no comfort, character deaths, feeling hopeless, collapsing buildings, gunfire and blasts, very sad.

Prompt idea goes to @la-gotica-fantasma

Prompt: “When we get home, I’m going to love you so well.” “We aren’t making it out of this alive.” “I can love you in Hell, my love for you is unconditional.”

A/n: Writing this genuinely broke my heart. Idk what to feel anymore 🥲

P.s requests are open. Feel free to send some

The wind howled like a wounded beast as you trudged through the desolate, snow-covered wasteland with Bucky at your side. The sky was a relentless gray, and the falling snow blurred the line between earth and heaven, lending the world an eerie, frozen silence. It was supposed to be a simple mission—a brief extraction of intelligence from a Hydra outpost nestled in the bitter cold—but nothing had ever turned out as planned.

Earlier that day, in a rare moment of calm before the storm of chaos, Bucky had leaned in close, his eyes soft yet resolute, and promised, “When we get home, I’m going to love you so well.”

Those words had been a beacon of hope amid the constant threat of violence and loss. You had believed in the possibility of a future where the battles ended, where quiet mornings and gentle laughter replaced the roar of combat.

Now, as the wind cut through the silence like shards of glass, that promise felt like a distant dream—fragile and almost cruel in its unattainability.

You remembered the plan: infiltrate the outpost swiftly, extract the needed data, and rendezvous with the rest of the Avengers waiting back at base. The mission brief had been confident, almost nonchalant. But as you and Bucky advanced deeper into the icy expanse, every step seemed to echo the growing dread in your hearts.

The communications link, your lifeline to your teammates, went dark almost as soon as you crossed into enemy territory. No reassuring voices, no status updates—only static and the gnawing realization that you were utterly alone.

Then, without warning, the ambush began. Hydra operatives materialized from the swirling snow like specters of death. The first shots rang out, shattering the silence and sending adrenaline surging through your veins.

Bullets and energy blasts whistled past as you dove behind crumbling concrete walls, the world erupting into a chaotic blur of violence and icy wind. Amid the clamor, every instinct told you to fight—to survive. But as you exchanged fire with the enemy, a grim truth began to settle over you both.

Between bursts of combat, you caught sight of Bucky’s face—his eyes narrowed in concentration, his jaw set in determination—but you also saw something else: a deep-seated sorrow, a silent acknowledgment of the danger you both faced.

In a moment of desperate clarity amid the chaos, his gravelly voice cut through the din, heavy with resignation, “We aren’t making it out of this alive.”

The words reverberated in your chest like a death knell, each syllable a painful reminder of your mortality.

In a frantic bid to salvage any hope, you fumbled with the comms device, your trembling fingers desperately trying to re-establish contact with your teammates. “Avengers… come in, do you copy?” you cried out, your voice barely audible over the roar of battle and the relentless howl of the wind. Static was all that answered.

You repeated the call until it became a ragged litany of pleas that dissolved into the indifferent winter. Each failed attempt gnawed at your spirit, the silence a stark testament to the isolation you now faced.

The fight raged on, a brutal ballet of survival amid falling snow and shattered dreams. Hydra soldiers pressed their attack relentlessly. You and Bucky fought side by side, your movements mirroring each other in a desperate dance for life. Every explosion, every ricochet of shrapnel, was punctuated by the sound of your rapid heartbeats—a rhythm that now served as a mournful metronome counting down your final moments.

As the battle wore on, the structure of the Hydra base itself began to betray its strength. Cracks appeared in the walls, and the ground beneath your feet trembled with the violent shudder of collapsing concrete. The once formidable outpost was now crumbling, its defenses disintegrating as if the very building were succumbing to the despair that filled the air.

Debris rained down around you, and in the midst of the falling rubble, Bucky shouted, “Get down!” His tone was urgent, laced with both command and raw fear.

You dove behind a large chunk of concrete, your body slamming into the cold, unyielding surface. The impact stole the air from your lungs, and for a moment, you lay there, the taste of dust and defeat mingling in your mouth. When you looked up, you saw Bucky already moving, guiding you to a small, partially intact alcove—a temporary refuge amidst the chaos. It was cramped and dark, barely enough room for the two of you, but it offered a semblance of shelter from the relentless storm outside.

In that suffocating space, the sounds of the battle raged on outside the thin barrier of the crumbling wall. Your hearts pounded in unison, echoing the rhythm of a shared, desperate hope that somehow, against all odds, you might survive this ordeal. Bucky’s eyes met yours in the dim light, and for a heartbeat, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you suspended in a fragile bubble of intimacy amid the madness.

“Do you think… do you think they’re coming?” you whispered, your voice trembling not only from the cold but from the overwhelming sense of impending doom. It was a question born of both fear and the desperate need for connection—a plea for reassurance in a moment when even the strongest bonds seemed to be unraveling.

Bucky’s response was slow, measured, as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. “I tried to reach them,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “Every call… nothing. It’s like we’re lost in a void, cut off from everything we once knew.” His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and for a moment, the hardened warrior you knew softened into a man laid bare by the cruelty of fate.

Silence fell over you both, heavy and suffocating. Outside, the Hydra base shuddered with the force of its impending collapse. The sound of crumbling concrete, the distant echo of explosions, and the relentless whistling of the wind combined into a dirge for the dying hope that you might ever escape this frozen nightmare.

As if sensing the despair in your voice, Bucky pulled you closer. “Remember what I said earlier?” he murmured, his tone both tender and fatalistic. “When we get home, I’m going to love you so well.” It was a promise made in brighter times, a vow that now felt painfully out of reach. But even in the midst of despair, those words carried a weight of truth—a promise that, no matter how bleak the present, the love you shared was real, undeniable.

You nodded, unable to muster any words, your throat tight with emotion. The hope of a future together��of peaceful mornings, shared smiles, and quiet moments of tenderness—had evaporated into the cold, indifferent air around you. All that remained was the brutal reality of the present, a fight for survival against impossible odds.

The Hydra operatives continued their assault, their voices and shouts muffled by the falling snow and the collapsing walls. In a rare lull between attacks, you and Bucky exchanged murmured words—a mix of confessions, regrets, and bittersweet promises. “I’m scared,” you admitted softly, tears freezing on your lashes as they fell silently into the snow. “I don’t want to lose you,” you added, your voice barely more than a whisper in the dark.

Bucky’s hand tightened around yours. “I know,” he replied, his tone laced with sorrow and determination. “Every moment with you is a gift, even if it’s our last.” There was a raw, heartbreaking beauty in his words—a recognition that love could still flourish in the shadow of death, even if only for a fleeting heartbeat.

In that cramped, shadowed corner of the collapsing base, time slowed. Every heartbeat, every ragged breath, felt amplified—a stark reminder that life was slipping away. Outside, the structure continued to crumble, the roar of destruction melding with the persistent, mournful sigh of the wind. The cold had seeped into every crack of your bones, and the promise of rescue or escape had all but vanished into the void.

With trembling fingers, you reached for the comms one last time, your eyes searching the static for any sign of life. “Avengers… please, if anyone can hear us… Steve, Tony, anyone...” your voice trailed off into the oppressive silence. There was no response—only the relentless sound of your own despair mingling with the fading echoes of distant explosions.

Bucky pulled you closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I can love you even in hell,” he said, the words a defiant stand against the cruel fate that had brought you here. “My love for you is unconditional, doll.” His voice was steady, yet beneath it lay an undercurrent of sorrow that matched your own. In that moment, his words were both a comfort and a lament—a final affirmation of the bond you shared even as everything around you crumbled.

The minutes stretched into what felt like an eternity. Each second was filled with the sound of falling debris, the relentless beating of your hearts, and the unspoken acknowledgment that nothing could change the inevitable. The Hydra base, once a symbol of enemy might, was now nothing more than a tomb—a grave for hopes, dreams, and the promise of a future that would never be.

As the structure groaned and finally began its irrevocable descent into ruin, you and Bucky clung to each other, seeking solace in the familiar warmth of your embrace. Tears mixed with the snow on your cheeks as you whispered your final goodbyes—not to the world, but to the life you had once dared to dream of. The bitterness of regret, the agony of loss, and the deep, aching sorrow of unfulfilled promises coalesced into a single, shattering moment.

“Do you remember,” you asked in a voice choked with emotion, “when we talked about running away, escaping all this madness?” Your question hung in the air, fragile as a snowflake in the storm.

Bucky’s eyes searched yours, and for a long moment, neither of you spoke. Finally, he said, “I do. I dreamed of a life where we wouldn’t have to fight, where the world was kinder, where I could hold you every morning without the fear of losing you.” His admission was raw and honest, a confession of all the hopes that had been built and now lay shattered.

The sound of collapsing walls drew nearer, and the harsh reality that you were nearing the end pressed in like the cold itself. With a shaky laugh that was more a sob than mirth, you murmured, “It feels like even our dreams are falling apart with this place.” Your voice cracked under the weight of truth.

Bucky’s grip tightened, his fingers tracing the line of your tear-streaked face. “Maybe we were foolish to hope,” he replied softly. “But even if this is the end, I wouldn’t trade these moments with you for anything—even if they’re wrapped in sorrow.”

Time itself seemed to slow as you sat huddled together in that dark, cramped corner. The only sounds were the rhythmic beating of your hearts and the soft, sorrowful whispers of the wind outside—a lullaby for the damned. In that final space, you and Bucky clung to each other, sharing a look that spoke of years of love, pain, and the bittersweet beauty of life even in its final throes.

As the final moments approached, Bucky’s voice, barely audible above the collapsing din, broke the heavy silence once more. “I’m sorry,” he said, his tone a fragile mix of regret and love, “that I couldn’t do more. But I promise… I will love you in every possible way, until my very last heartbeat.” His words wrapped around you like a fragile shield against the inevitable, and though there was no rescue, no miraculous escape, there was a profound connection that neither death nor destruction could ever erase.

With the Hydra base collapsing fully around you, the walls and roof caving in with a final, mournful groan, you both closed your eyes and held each other tightly. In those heartbeats, as the echoes of your shared love mingled with the sound of falling debris, you allowed yourselves one last moment of vulnerability—a final embrace where all the pain, hope, and regret converged into a single, unforgettable truth.

There, in the darkness and despair, as the light of day faded beneath a blanket of snow and ruin, you and Bucky found a small, defiant solace. The world was ending around you, but in that fleeting, poignant instant, you had each other. And though rescue was a memory lost in static and hope was buried under endless layers of ice and concrete, the love you shared—raw, unyielding, and achingly human—remained the last, unwavering truth.

In the dying echoes of that crumbling Hydra base, your final moments were marked by tears that froze on your cheeks, by whispered apologies and desperate confessions, and by the unbreakable bond of two souls intertwined even as the world fell apart. There were no heroes emerging from the wreckage that day, no triumphant survival. There was only the haunting beauty of a love that dared to shine, even in the coldest, darkest of nights—a love that, despite everything, burned fiercely until its very end.

And as the snow continued to fall, blanketing the ruins in silence, your hearts beat together in a final, sorrowful cadence—a cadence that, even in the face of oblivion, whispered of promises kept, of lives entwined, and of a love that would echo long after the storm had passed.

[fortheharbingers]

— truth or dare gone wrong

notes: idk… don’t look at me. multiple bllk characters x f!reader— but Kaiser focused, Shidou implied to be your best friend ig, idk how clear it is but that “voice” by the end belongs to Sae (these r all the specified characters I can think of rn)

warnings: implied dubcon, alcohol mention, fingering, voyuerism and exhibitionism. Minors do not interact. Lmk if I’m missing any tags!

An impromtu night in with bllk boys- that somehow ends up with someone’s genius idea to play shitty high school games, everyone’s too buzzed to refuse or even fully register so it starts with the classic truth or dare

You feel a little too bold- and clearly forgotten about tour unspoken rule for this game, and pick “dare” for your first.

Your dearest friend Shidou dares you to sit on Kaiser’s lap without missing a beat. And when you try and protest, you’re hushed with a finger pressing to your lips, now now, you chose dare, no? So be nice and play along.

The night only goes downhill from the on for you. With Kaiser being touchy but remaining somewhat cold and more and more questions being targeted at you, you’re certain they’re spinning the bottle in a way that’ll end up pointing at you always.

“So, what color is your underwear?” Oliver says, and you whip your head to hide your face- sadly the only way to do so is Kaiser’s neck so you take all you can find but feel a finger by the band of your bottoms, pulling the band to take a peak and answer on your behalf “blue, lace too.”

You can hear a whistle from somewhere, and Oliver following up with a why. “You got your answer so shut it” you retort and can hear several laughs raising in the room. A little too late the seriousness of your situation sits in- it’s a den of wolves and you’re thrown in the center to be their latest victim.

You try to move and get away as much as you can from Kaiser— at least to not feel his breath down your neck, his lips ghosting the skin there, but with strong hands pinning you down to his lap, he sneers at you, “I’d suggest you keep the squirming down a little. Unless you’re offering to help out later.”

Giving him a puzzled look at his words, he relaxes his hold on you only to press you down again, slowly grinding you against him— it’s impossible not to feel his hardened length against you and only then his words sink in, something akin to fear taking over your features and making him grin.

When the bottle spins and finds you two once more, slightly tilted towards Kaiser but you aren’t sure, you cannot trust your senses any more, you try and protest only for the hand stroking your leg to squeeze and make you shut. “Fine, we will play as two and answer in turns.”

And much to your dismay, he always, always picks dare. One wants a peak at the lace, one says you look like you’re begging to have a couple fingers inside, so Kaiser follows suit. Always with a shrug, saying he’s simply following suit of the game. Long, agitating hours of his fingers inside of you, his thumb occasionally massaging your clit and drawing small mewls out of you— with how you’re, you bury your face to the crook of his neck, mouth gaping slightly, overheating all over your body, it feels too much, he feels too much.

Then you hear someone, you think Karasu but you’re not sure, asking if it’ll always be limited to two.

When he inserts a third finger, you cannot hold your gasp anymore, clutching at Kaiser’s shoulders.

Shidou only makes the matters worse— you don’t know when he switched places but every once in a while he leans in and suggests Kaiser where else should he touch to drive you a little more crazy, a little more stupid. The blond is not the least bit of happy regarding this but Shidou only offers a smile that unsettles you and says it’s all just things you told him willingly on another night drunk off your minds, talking about pleasure and whatnot.

As the game reaches its high and the bottle long forgotten now, another dare is thrown into the mix, to put on a little show, to allow them all an audience.

Nudging your legs to the side, Kaiser increases his pressure on your poor clit, nibbling on your ear, he whispers to only you that if you do this final thing, he will reward you— this only makes you clench around his fingers more, already aware despite your drunken state that he means to fuck you stupid properly and for only him to see.

You think you feel more hands on you, you’re unsure, with desperate to hide your face and bite onto Kaiser’s shoulder every time it feels too much, you don’t have the heart to look at any of them.

You feel someone blowing on your ear at last, telling you to let go and not contract your body like that. Have mercy on your body and stop holding back. The voice sounds like it wants the best for you, like this is the most logical way to go, that it’s pointless to resist. So you nod weakly and feeling you relax in his hold, still pressed against him, Kaiser chuckles at your admitted defeat.

Knuckles deep inside of you, he increases his pace, his thumb toying with your clit and his other hand roaming your body. Pushing your legs further apart to settle his leg inbetween, his hand sneaks under your shirt and finds your breasts. Kneading the tender flesh there, you begin your body to jolt slightly, mumbling to no one in particular pleas of nothing, trying to squeeze your legs shut and hips meeting the pace Kaiser has set with his fingers.

With a snap, you feel yourself shake and body going limp, no more strength left in you to try and shy away push your legs together. Barely meeting the rhythm of his finger still inside of you.

When Kaiser pulls away, you cannot help but whine at the sudden feeling of emptiness. Raising his cum soaked fingers, he seems to demonstrate for a while, turning his hand to inspect for himself and brings the digits to your lips.

Without a word, you feel something pushing against your lips and open, licking clean whatever you’re being dared to do so now. Sucking on Kaiser’s fingers, you let go with a slow pop.

Bringing his other hand to your cheek, he makes you face him and seems to give it some thought. Swiftly, he places the hand under your knees and gets up, picking you up in the process and walks to where he knows is the bedroom, ignoring the protests of the men left behind in the living room.

[ieetbeez]

Small Rant About RE

Hello gang... This has been on my mind for awhile. Today we're talking about Resident Evil and particularly Leon stans. Now I'm gonna come out and say I am one of them! I love that silly little blonde man and he's like number 1 on my favorite capcom white boy tier list next to Cody from Final Fight/SF.

tw: mentions of rape, pedophilia, incest, abuse, and my opinion

Let me make it clear, I'm not kink shaming, I'm not advocating for censorship. Art and literature shouldn't be censored. Sex is cool. Kink is cool (when safe and consensual).

I'm gonna be one of those fans real quick and say, I've been an RE fan since I was like 7. That doesn't really mean much since I can't drink legally but I've been in love with Leon since elementary school. I watched my Dad and brother play RE6 co-op and man... Aka I've been in the fandom for a fat minute. Before the RE2 remake came out I'd see the occasional Dead Dove fic but that's whatever. But I have never seen this much dark romance about Leon of all people!

Like. Call it the T-Virus the way it's everywhere I swear I can't scroll down the damn tag without getting hit with a sexual crime. And let me say, I'm not new to fandom culture. I take don't like don't read to heart (I'm super picky LMAO). And I understand that, that's just how big fandoms are, more people, more bad eggs. I'm sure the majority of y'all are sweet people.

BUT I feel like I shouldn't have to say that romanticizing things like pedophilia, rape, abuse, and incest is disgusting in the big year 2025 but here we are. Honestly, I feel this way about a lot of the fics of other fandoms I'm in. I feel crazy seeing it everywhere and it makes me feel like some sort of sexual puritan. Am I insane for wanting freaky smut and not ...freaky smut??

There for sure is a bigger conversation here about how easily accessible porn is and how quick people to fall into these pipelines. Or how booktok caused a rise in the normalization of dark romance troupes and just pure porn writing (I still hate icebreaker). Or how quick form constant content is slowly leaking it's way into everything. But we’d be here for forever…

And like, it's just completely out of character?? Like if you're gonna write about that can it at least be in character? Wesker fits the dark romance thing LEAGUES better. But LEON?? THE POLICE OFFICER?? Did you even watch a walkthrough? Leon is a sweet upstanding guy with lots of trauma, that is the last thing he'd do to ANYONE! Not saying fics have to be completely accurate all the time but there's literally nothing fun about "Omg what if Leon RAPED you!?" HES NOT THE EVIL RESIDENT HERE GUYS! At some point it's not even about Leon (or whoever the fic is about) anymore, it's just someone wanting to share their sexual fantasies online.

These topics are almost never written with any care and are insanely insensitive to the survivors of these acts. I don't know, sexual crimes are literally some of the most deplorable acts of hatred and depravity someone can do onto another person. I can't imagine getting off to the suffering of others (in a heinous crime way not BDSM way) (BDSM is cool). Have some fucking empathy and stop thinking with your goon wad guys <3

Like at least take it to AO3 so that I can filter it out or smth...

Edit: I just woke up and remembered what else I was gonna say.

You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat their fictional characters. Another thing I don’t like are the Gooner mods for the games. Like they’re fun every once in a while and like if it’s a capcom game you have to expect it. At some point though, it just stops being sexy and feels gross or uncomfortable.

Idk maybe I’m in the minority here but there has never been a single time where I was playing any RE game and thought to myself, “man… I wish I could see Leon’s end rod whipping in the wind rn…” Obviously, I wanna see that man oiled up butt booty naked doing jumping jacks like as most normal people do but… zawg…

That’s also like an actual person?? At least for the remakes. Maybe this just isn’t my dove to eat but the treat Leon like some sort doll. I know it’s kinda weak to be like this for a fictional person but yeah </3

[caemidraws]

M A S T E R P O S T

[General Tags]

₊˚.⋆ #dnd related art

₊˚.⋆ #comics and other funny things

₊˚.⋆ #tarots, full deck in progress

₊˚.⋆ #pettirossi content*, from full illustrations to session notes

₊˚.⋆ #marsilio (computer, show me pictures of the blorbo)

(*more links for the comic under the cut)

[Useful Links]

The other social

About me

Previous Asks

[Comic (TBA) - Prologue]

Cover | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

[How to Support]

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Comms (CLOSED)

:･⚔ ||| P E T T I R O S S I ||| ⚔･:

[fantasy/horror webcomic written by @jonesylium, illustrated by me]

Inspired by our dnd campaign, the comic follows the events that brought a group of unfortunate characters together, in a city ruled by factions and tall towers, scarred by night runners and obscure legends.

 ⬇  ⬇  ⬇  Find out more on our comic here  ⬇  ⬇  ⬇

Serious business aside...if you ever wondered what's going on in my art or who are the characters I keep drawing without providing any context - you're going to find out (some) more!

⚠️DISCLAIMER⚠️

This is our first experience in the field, as it's the first comic (of more of 3 pages) we've worked on together,,, We just really wanted to make a media with our characters, and while we know it's a wonky attempt, the dnd urge to share blorbos is strong--

(TW list in the FAQ section)

[ ₊˚.⋆ Comic Pages ⋆⁺. ]

Cover | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | E1 | E2 | E3

[ ₊˚.⋆ Session Notes and More ⋆⁺. ]

⚠️⬇ Spoilers Below ⬇⚠️

Misc | Side Tales | Colors | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 | 27 | 28 | 29 | 30

[ ₊˚.⋆ Lore / Asks ⋆⁺. ]

⚠️⬇ Spoilers Below ⬇⚠️

Random Infos 1 | Random Infos 2 | Asks (WIP)

[ FAQ ]

☆ When are we getting new pages?

On every Thursday, at Midnight (Central European Time).

☆ Any trigger warning?

I'll be updating the tw list on here as the comic proceeds.

First chapter: blood, death, scars, burns, gang violence.

☆ Where should we send our asks?

You can send asks to me, @jonesylium or @pettirossiofficial! I'll do my best to reply any question concerning the comic but it'll may take some time in case I need to doodle something or need to wander the woods for 3 days to think about a good reply idk

☆ Who does what????

@jonesylium: writing and lettering (typos)

me: sketching, inking, coloring, crying

☆ Who are the characters???

Andrea [he/him]

Mars [he/him]

Misericordia [they/she]

the Twins (coming soon) [he and she]

Quarzaldo (best name btw) [he/him]

Solvi [she/her]

Toloc [he/him]

Ultima [she/her]

Will [he/him]

⚠️SHORT REF SHEETS COMING SOON⚠️

Special thanks ₊˚.⋆ to who's playing Everyone Else, aka @shaykan

☆ What is a pettirossi? Is it something you can eat or what

It's a pun about petti-rossi translating to red chests (red=rossi, chests=petti) and the italian name for robin (the bird!!!). We needed a gang name that sounded bloody and cool but not edgy.....

☆ Do you take requests?

You can hope to 'lady macbeth' me enough to make me think it was my own idea to draw something

☆ Why haven't you replied to my ask? :(

I either forgor OR your ask had a compliment in it and I'm safekeeping it in my askbox so that I have something nice to look at when I get sad

There are chances I go back to older asks so don't lose hope.....

[jedi-enthusiasm-blog]

Listen maybe the jedi couldn't end slavery on tattooine in their lifetime with just the numbers they had, sure. But they could've gone back for anakin's mom, like the one woman who is clearly a sore spot for him, I get it, not attachments and all, but he's far more likely to not make a sudden, angry, rash decision and slaughter not just the men, but the women and the children as well if she's not in danger of being kidnapped and murdered right?

Beautiful comment left by a dear in my post about the Jedi's limited numbers. At least it wasn't an essay in the reblogs, unlike the last… seven or eight I think. Idk, I lost count after three people dropped anti-Jedi essays I definitely didn't ask for in less than an hour in a clearly tagged post that wasn't even meant to be serious.

Now for the response because why the heck not?:

1) Sorry to break it to you buddy but she could still be kidnaped tortured and murdered on Couruscant.

2) They should have gone back to free one slave and risk war with the Hutts since Watto has connections with them? Really? It sounds really fucking risky. Plus, when freeing slaves, slaves are hostages, freeing them is dangerous for both the slave, the person/people freeing them and whoever is in the blast radious since, y'know, there's a fucking bomb inside them.

3) They did free her in Legends, or at least had a part in her winning her freedom.

4) It's not the Jedi's job to placate a fucking genocidal child murderer, it's ANAKIN'S job to keep his shit together and not murder people.

5) Why does Shmi deserve freedom more urgently than any other slave? Because she's nice? Because she's Anakin's mom? Newflash mate, freedom is a right and even the rudest slave who has no family or friends deserves it. What you say is ATTACHMENT, it's the Dark Side. You'd be saving Shmi because of who she is in relationship to someone else or because she's "earned" it, not because she's a fucking person and deserves her basic human rights. Arguably, if you flip this you could just as easily say that a rude person with no friends and family deserves slavery, or at the very least shouldn't be a priority when freeing slaves.

6) George Lucas is more metaphorical than literal, and the PT suffered for it (it does have some holes).

7) How do you know the Jedi didn't try to free her but couldn't for X reason? That headcanon is just as valid as saying they never tried (actually more, since Qui-Gon did try).

8) It bears repeating: it's ANAKIN'S responsability to keep his shit together and not. murder. people. I don't give a fuck that his mom died, it's no excuse to MURDER FUCKING CHILDREN. Shmi didn't deserve to be kidnaped, tortured and murdered, but the Tuskens (the children most of all) didn't deserve to be slaughtered like animals either.

9) I'm gonna say it again because this is serious: Anakin shouldn't be coddled by the fans, he was above the IRL age of majority in most countries, twelve year olds spent their whole lives in PRISON for far less and he got married literally one day after. He. Was. An. Adult.

I apologize for the essay because it does seem disproportionate in hindsight. But after months of having nearly every single one of my posts infested with anti-Jedi people dropping essays I have clearly stated I don't want, after years of not being able to enjoy the content I like without looking at comments and reblogs and seeing vitrol towards not just the fictional characters I love but towards me and other real people, I'm at the end of my patience.

I won't tag you in the end, commenter, because I don't want to give any incentives for harassment or make you or anybody who sees Star Wars like you to feel upset by reading this. You are entitled to your opinions as much as I am to mine. If you see this post, you know who you are.

[coldwayhome]

Hi could you do an apollo x reader doesn’t matter what it’s about. Thank youu!! I really love your writing!!

love songs on the radio ☀️

synopsis: domesticity with apollo (and some reflection)

tags: blurb i am sorry. reader has no gender (apollo’s pov, usage of ‘you’ instead of ‘me’ or ‘they’.. sorry), idk what else to tag it’s pretty lowkey!

notes: so i may have went a little overboard.. i hope this is okay 🤍 i love apollo’s character in the rrverse but i mayyy have overdone it. please send feedback this is new ! (also, so sorry it’s short!! i wanted to get it done before my inspiration died.. i will try to continue if you like it!)

he prays this isn’t a dream, for a blessing has been bestowed upon him through early morning bird songs and harmonic sunrise musings. he thanked every god he’d ever done right for the scene playing out in your shared kitchen. the sun-bleached & salt-stained windowsill rested the speaker that was playing soft music (the music you were swaying to; the swaying which caused him to grin).

the sound of his bare feet patting on the wooden floor alerted you of his presence behind you. chirping a morning greeting, you continue your place at the countertop. apollo couldn’t get a good glance at what you were working on from his position in the hallway, but he had a clear view of the baking being done when he sat at the counter stool. even if he couldn’t see, though, his nose still worked. your wildflower and honey-filled pancakes could wake him up out of a dead sleep.

conversation was passed, and apollo felt himself becoming drowsy (despite waking up ten minutes prior). the whistling of the tea kettle and the sun rays weaving through the sheer curtains seemed to encourage him to rest again.

heavy-eyed as he was, his battering heart, syncopated and burning gold, could not stop his wandering mind. he had sworn countless times before that he wouldn’t listen to the voice within, but it tended to steal his attention at times.

during these times, apollo tended to think cynically. (it’s just where is mind takes him, he’s sure you’d understand). what if, in another life, you had taken another lover? or what if, in another life, you had never met him? and when the fates finally give up on him, where would you go? he’s sure he’d chase after you in every lifetime. but, there will always be a grave in the garden, and he will crumble without your roothold on him.

one look at your tranquil appearance, lips chapped and hands busy, was enough to push the notion away. words fell flat on his tongue as you looked back with a beam, seemingly beckoning him closer to you. how could he refuse?

as he resumed his spot behind you, bronzed and hardened arms around your waist, he knew that this love will never falter.

[meanbossart]

in the least confrontational way possible…what’s up with you shipping durge and orin? is it just another aspect of u liking fucked up dark dynamics in media? personally its not for me at all, but i’m curious why you like them together and how her dynamic is with ur durge

[CONTENT WARNING for mentions of inter generational incest and grooming below, nothing explicit.] Hm. You know, it's a little unfortunate that we have reduced every depiction of characters having a relationship that is at all romantic or sexual in nature (not even, really, I've only ever drawn them hugging LOL) as "shipping". I don't "like" them together in the way I like DU drow and Astarion together, for example, and they never really were together. I made up a story that I find interesting, because I find Orin interesting and wanted to explore her themes more, and liked the idea that hers and Durge's relationship wasn't always "bad".

I really enjoy writing for DU drow, I put a lot of effort into making his story feel fleshed out and suited for the in-game universe. It's a little disheartening that some people may harp on this without considering that there is a wider context beyond it just tickling me, somehow. These are two characters who've never even had sex, in which one of them (Orin) isn't even interested in romance or "mating", and the other one has no concept of healthy relationships, familial or otherwise and just desperately grasps at the one thing he feels a kinship to: to the eventual disintegration of the one relationship he had that approached anything to mutual understanding and relatability.

Theirs isn't a love story, it's a story about isolation and grooming that led to total dependency. If you've been told your whole life that everyone and everything is fated to die at your hand, that your kind is meant to be contained within a genetical crockpot, that debauchery is normalcy and everyone else is the enemy, it is no huge stretch that you would dump all expectations of companionship onto your one, supposed equal - friend, sister, mate, should-be-lover. And then, if you're a bad person on top of that, you won't take no for an answer.

Add to that that your grandfather (Sarevok) is apparently in total agreement and a practicant of the idea of inbreeding for weird purity purposes and you have yourself an environment where an obsession like such can be born - one that Orin wants nothing to do with, because unlike DU drow, she doesn't become distracted by matters of the heart - and hence we have conflict, and we have reason for resentment to brew over time. At some point in the past, they had a "good" (within the bhaalist concept) relationship, and there was nothing sexual or romantic about it. DU drow crushed that. And then he got a worm in his brain for it.

Is that shipping? 🤷 idk

If you go onto my blog's archive and look up the "orin the red" tag you can find more asks where I discuss them and their relationship.

[hughiecampbelle]

Autopsy (Will Graham Oneshot)

Character/s: Will, Hannibal mention

Word Count: 1,363

Tag List: @locke-writes

A/N: Heavily inspired by the freezing temperatures that have come on suddenly :) I just love the winter and the snow. Something about it makes me feel alive lol. Anyways, I am having so much fun with these fics!!! I was really afraid I wouldn't be able to stick with it, and ik it's only the second day, but I have a good feeling. I have a lot more to watch lol bc I want to write for Hannibal too, I just feel like I can write Will better, if that makes sense? I know him better. Idk lol. I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always appreciated!! ❤❤❤❤❤❤

WRITING EVENT 🔪🩸

I still think of you. The words come to his mind as they have constantly, consistently, since the day you died. Not dead, he corrects, but murdered. The day you were murdered. Taken from him with violence, with cruelty, without remorse. Small things. Big things, too. Reminders. Lately, the change of the season, autumn to winter. The long, dark nights he searches in the linen closet for an extra blanket. The way the stars seem a little brighter. How the leaves, what remains of them, shudder in the wind. The hot water he shivers under, trying to warm himself up. The air is sharp, nipping and biting at his skin as he stands in the yard, in the road, in the woods. Shivering. The frost in the grass, on the pavement, sparkles, threatening to melt in the sunlight. The apples of his cheeks growing rosy, his face shielded by the collar of his coat, by the frame of his glasses, by the knit hat he wears that belonged to you. 

I still think of you, he chants. A quiet, naive, foolish part of him hopes you know. I Hope you can see him, feel him. He doesn’t bow to a higher being. He does not break his back and contort his spine in a manner of prayer. He does not step forward between the doors of a church, a temple, a house of holiness. This is as close as he’ll get to believing, to worshipping. Standing here, the temperatures dropping, the sky a watercolor painting of pinks and oranges, purples and blues, trying to stop his teeth from chattering. He can crawl into the minds of killers, of degenerates, of the insane. That is easy. The crime scenes spell it out for him in a language no one else seems to speak, to read, to understand. He can watch as they stab and slice and suffocate without flinching. A witness to the filth of humanity. What he cannot do, what he cannot understand, is your perspective. He has studied the autopsy reports. He has memorized every inflicted wound, every mark of self-defense. He has touched the objects, the weapons, that were used against you. But when he tries to get into your head, your mindset, there is a blankness that mimics untouched snow. 

Were you scared? Did you beg for your life? Did the infinity that is death creep up on you while you slipped away or was it thrust upon you like a white hot pain? Did you cry? Call out for your mother, your father, for him? They found you in the snow. A shallow grave dug before a storm, a blizzard. It made things harder. Slowed decomposition. You were missing for two weeks. That’s all. Fourteen days. He smiles despite himself. The absurdity of it all. He should have fought harder. He should have threatened until he got his way. Of course he had a bad feeling. They all did. But he wasn’t prepared for this. You didn’t come home. Your side of the bed sat empty, undisturbed. Your boots, your coat and hat and gloves hung with care by the front door, left on the mat so you wouldn’t track in slush and snow. The books you were reading, the case files you were analyzing, all waited on the coffee table, expecting you home at any time. Even the dogs, unaware of the situation, slept soundly. They knew where you lived. They stalked you for weeks on end. It was their pattern, their modus operandi. They wanted you. They loved you. And that is why they had to kill you. 

Killed because of him. His therapist disagrees. It wasn’t anything he did. It wasn’t anything he could have prevented. That’s a lie, he thinks, but doesn’t vocalize. A nervous habit: bringing your engagement ring to his lips, holding it there, before dropping it back on the chain around his neck. He waited a long time to get it back. Finally, Jack agreed. He hasn’t taken it off since. He tucks it under his shirt, the cold of the ring against his skin. You haven’t been sleeping, Hannibal states, and Will has no choice but to agree. Bruise-like circles painted beneath his eyes. How can he? How can he when the bed is so large and there is a gaping wound where you used to lie? How can he rest when he knows how you’ve suffered? The instruments used to hurt, to kill. He ends up downstairs, on the couch, his eyelids heavy. The image of your body on that metal slab. You must’ve been cold, that much he knows. You ran out without shoes, your socks, mismatched with silly patterns, thick with frozen mud. Without your jacket, without insulation, your thin shirt torn and ripped. Cut open. They were in your house. They watched you. How can he sleep when he sees a pair of eyes, bright in the dark, staring him down. Watching him. Waiting. 

It should have been me. The thought never leaves him. He can shun it away for a few fleeting moments. Between sips of coffee, tea. Before and after he spits his toothpaste in the sink. As he cleans his glasses on the hem of his shirt. Should, Hannibal points out, is a dangerous word. He nods, but does not comprehend, does not care for. The killer learned your routines. They knew when he would be out, when you were alone, when you were at your most vulnerable. He never should have. But how could? Don’t. This is my fault. The idea is sickening and, strangely, comforting. He ruminates. He sits for hours in the morning, at night, in the time between lectures and crime scenes. He goes over what he could put together. The house, your home, littered with investigators, with yellow tape and analysts. Collecting hair, fur, fingerprints. He has nowhere to go. Him and the dogs staying with Hannibal. Just until they’re done, he assured him, but he didn’t mind. When the time came to unlock the front door, to walk through and re-enter the life he’d put on hold, he couldn’t do it. Backed away from it like it was wielding a knife. Just recently has he been able to face it. It was as if nothing had ever happened. Your things right where you left them. Even the dishes, a glass, a mug, a plate, exactly as before, nestled in the sink. Dirty. Unwashed. Begging to be scrubbed clean.  They wouldn’t come after him, that he was painfully aware of. They got what they wanted. He was of no use to them. Not anymore. He could bloody his hands and knees, begging and pleading, but they are gone. Looking for their next victim. Their prey. If they’re not going to hurt him, hunt him down as they had done to you, he will punish himself instead. He will stand in the cold, the frozen temperatures, and wait. He will watch his own breath until it’s too dark, until the night takes over and the sky, inky black, mocks him. Another day you have not seen, experienced, lived. He will shed everything until the thinnest layer. He will put himself in your place, laying in the snow, waiting for his skin to grow numb. If he could he would bury himself. Dig his own grave. But the ground is too thick, too hard, and so he must wait. He must imagine. He must be patient. When it’s become too much, when he is sure he can no longer feel his limbs, he will drag himself back to the house, the dogs, the lonely bed. And he will try again the next night, thankful the winter lasts as long as she does. Dreading the days the sun waits to set and the snow melts, when the wildflowers bloom and the cold dissipates. It’s only been a year and yet, it’s felt like a lifetime. How much longer can he carry on without you? How much longer can he live this life where he cannot sleep, he cannot eat, he cannot find your killer? I don’t know, he shrugs. I don’t know.

[deltabluesdelight]

Sinners (2025) History book recommendations:

Ok so I saw one post going around of books they recommended for the history behind Sinners but I know of books closer to the history of that era and sharing is caring and I hope this post will spread the knowledge forward, and if anyone else knows of additional books to recommend then feel free to add, so without further ado here is my small list:

"Dark Journey: Black Mississippians in the Age of Jim Crow" By Neil R. McMillen

When doing online research about Jim Crow era in Mississippi, you'll see this book show up a lot under sources as it covers a massive amount of topics about black lives during this era. It delves deep into the Jim Crow system and how its oppression effected the lives of black mississippians in every aspect of life, even the gap of education and how little the government spent on black children vs their white counterparts. Despite the era the book also highlights the feats of black folks ability to not just survive but to create something for themselves such as the historic town of Mound Bayou (mentioned in the movie!!!)

"Lynchings in Mississippi: A History, 1865-1965" By Julius E. Thompson

Ok heavy trigger warning for this book yes, but also Thompson delves deep into Mississippi's history of lynching, the government and politics that encouraged the violence, as well as the many black voices that fought against it from Ida B Wells to 1965, I am still working on this book as I am writing notes as I go. The book does not focus solely on the violence aspects of jim crow Mississippi,but also of historical black figures, such as black lawyers, of historic black schools and colleges, and of the progress black folks made building things for their community despite the forces against them. For the author I would recommend others look at his other works as well, as he has one book focusing on the black press in Mississippi, and another named "Black Life in Mississippi: Essays on Political, Social, and Cultural Studies in a Deep South State"

I debated on adding this one due to the gravity of the subject matter but in the movie they say "What if someone scuffs their shoe or looks at their woman too long" and how they refused to let Remmick in the juke joint when he showed up and how this is an era of horrific violence and fear, this is not an era of "lets hold hands and sing/we don't see color" because even if Remmick was not a vampire the danger would still be there, there was already risk with Mary's presence there.

"Chopsticks in the Land of Cotton: Live of Mississippi Delta Chinese Grocers" by John Jung

I am only halfway into this one but the author goes so far to even include oral histories of these groceries, how they came to be, the people that worked and lived there, the risks and hardship they faced, and how the delta chinese moved and navigated a jim crow system. (Do not bad mouth Grace Chow in my tags)

Other books in my read list that I plan on reading:

"Mississippi: Conflict and Change" James E. Loewen (yes that Loewen of "Lies my Teacher Told Me" and "Sundown Towns" Had worked on it at Tougaloo College and released in 1974 as new Mississippi history textbook (the state rejected it to the surprise of no one) that is said to include more on the indigenous history and the African American history, sadly it is so hard to get a copy as it has been out of print BUT! , In August a new edition will releases that is updated to cover more modern history and it will not make your wallet cry compared to the prices people want for the previous edition.

I plan on making more posts in the future with some resources and details I noticed in the movie (maybe idk for sure yet), consider this post my flare in the darkness. I'm trying to find others posting about the movie, characters, themes, and details that are not about remmick, I'm sorry but he should not be flooding the tag like that. This movie is such a love letter to the delta blues in a way that makes me lose the ability to lose words even with the small amount I know of the delta blues. THEY EVEN HAD A CREDIT FOR SOMEONE PLAYING THE DIDDLEY BOW!! I have to stop rambling otherwise this post will never end, Ryan Coogler you did so much research with the details you have in this movie, what a story, absolutely amazing work it is beyond stunning.

ALSO! Does anyone have high quality pictures of the patches on Sammie's jacket and vest? I know a little about embroidery and I have been trying to see the stitching on the patches to figure out what stitches were used.

also Ryan Coogler and movie crew thank you so much for costume details like that, in an era where so many movies and shows seem to have forgotten about details such as that, to see them here is so wonderful.

But also everyone reading this, go listen to Wang Dang Doodle sung by Howlin Wolf, im sorry movie crew but Howlin Wolf has the best version of it you cant beat perfection.

[kaq3yma]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐃 𝐉𝐔𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐑 ft yamato endo

syn: could he a be a good judge of character after all?

⸻ contains: slight yandere tendencies, reader is mentioned to be a cashier, and languages.

qeena's brief note: yippieeeee finally wrapped up my endo fic AND slightly yandere endo (๑-﹏-๑) wowzwowzzz but honestly idk how i feel about this um whether i like it or not BUT i dont hate it rofl anyway no long note this time, im keeping it "brief" (๑>؂•̀๑) so lemme know what you guys think of this, thank you, i love you, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated and happy reading xoxo 🩷💚

It's that one time, that one time he walk around amidst of the night trying to find an open store to buy fireworks for Takiishi. He stop in his trance, gaze swept away by a solitary store stood out among the dimly light streets. His feet brought him almost leisurely to the front door and that's when he saw you, working through the racks to fill up stocks.

When he pushes the door open, the automatic bell chime and you turn around "Welcome..." The corner of his eyes crease as he smile at you "Hey, do you guys have any fireworks in 'ere?" Yeah, it's not everyday a weird looking guy with weird tattoos litter across his body come in the middle of the night asking for fireworks "Yeah, sure..." He follows you to the farthest corner of the store where you kept them "Is there anything else?" The man turn to you, shaking his head "That'll be all,"

You rushes back to the counter, patiently waiting for him to come back and pay "Y/n..." Your eyes widen, and as you look up, you're surprised to see him leaning down to your face very closely. His eyes concentrated on your tag. You ring every bit of his items as quickly as you could "That'll be 507¥." He huff, taking the bag from you and leave.

You really thought it'll be the last time you see him...

But no, the weird man keep coming back, not to buy fireworks or anything, just to loiter around and pester you with your works and because it's in the middle of the night, there's barely any customers in the store which leave you not to only listen to his constant yapping but to reluctantly accompany him as well "Don't you have anything else to do?" He point at the cup of noodle he site on the table "Besides eating?" You groaned, shaking your head "No. Besides bothering me." He snickers, taking a noisy slurp of his noodle "I do. Following Takiishi around."

You look at him, confused but you dismissed the thought straight away "Whatever, I'm going back to work, if you're finish eating, leave." He pout, putting down the utensils he's using "You're mean. I'm a customer, y'know?" You sway your head at him "You make me pay for you everytime, you fool." He breaks into a fit of laughter, watching you mad is so hilarious.

The next night, he strides to the familiar route of your shop, face bruised and nose trickled with stained blood. The prior incident flashes in his mind once again.

He was with Takiishi like usual, tailing behind the poker-faced male wherever he go without question. The duo browse a town with its street swarming with delinquents and thugs. Endo didn't mind and he's sure as hell Takiishi didn't mind it either but when one of the men purposefully pick a fight with Takiishi, Endo decided to step up for him instead and he got a harsh blow from Takiishi "Don't intervene." Another blow, his face spotted with sheepish smile and blood smearing out every cuts as Takiishi continue to beat the tattooed male.

"Why am I going to her, anyway?" He didn't understand why his feet brought him to you. He knew what you're like, indiffirent and without a doubt, he can guarantee you couldn't care less about the bruises on his face, so why is he here? In front of your work place, damaged face grinning without a thought. He opens the door, greeting you with that same crazed smile.

"Welcome...!" Your eyes widen upon seeing the state he's in "What the fuck happened to you?" He chortle, bringing one hand to touch a singular cut on his face which causes him to wince terribly "... That hurts." He couldn't properly registered what was happening until you pull him to a nearby table and sat him down "Of course, it hurts, you prick. You leave the wounds untended!" He watch you move around the store, going to the back room and came back with a first aid kit "You're so careless..." You sighed, lift the lid of the box and start tending him.

A deep gash across his cheek, several cuts and scratches covering his forehead and temple, nose trickled in crimson and eyes almost swollen "Just what the hell did you get yourself into..." You graze alcoholic pad across the wound to clean it, damping ointment gently over the cuts and scratches and finally, you put one last bandaid below his eye, on the apple of his cheek "All done."

Your eyes flutter forward to him, only then did you realized just how close you both are. Your eyes expanded and you almost fall back in shock but he caught you, rolling into laughter "Why are you red?" There's that, that hint of mockery lacing in his undertone "Shut up, asshole. You didn't even thank me for stitching you up." You look away from him, well, he wanted to tease you some more by how red and incredibly cute you look at this moment but uncharacteristically, he stayed quiet.

"Thanks," You look up, awkwardly coughed out fake coughs "D-Don't mention it, just buy me something next time." You pick up the first aid kit and leave back to the cashier.

He leave the store, heart pounding within its cage, he can feel himself shuddering to the bone at the slightest remembrance of you. Yes, he likes you, he think he wants to make you his, he think you are so perfect... Don't tell Takiishi but, now, you're his number one.

And yes, he indeed still is a bad judge of character.

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓 is open. all rights reserved goes to @kaq3yma on tumblr.

[lizdenys]

Outer Wilds (Video Game) AO3 Tags appreciation post

Of course, no one cares about spoilers quite like Outer Wilds fans care about spoilers:

major outer wilds spoilers

Slight game spoilers

DLC Spoilers / Echoes of The Eye spoilers

art book spoilers

allusions to the dlc but nothing in depth

spoilers for a small but important part of the story

don't read it unless you've played it

as in plot and quite literally a solution to a puzzle, so don't read if you want to solve them all yourself

DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED ECHOES OF THE EYE OR FINISHED THE MAIN GAME

all the spoilers ever for everything outer wilds you have been warned

idk what else to tag pretty much everything is a spoiler

I can't even write tags without spoiling

DO NOT SPOIL YOURSELF MY GOD

I'm a little afraid of posting this because it might spoil something inadvertantly

Spoilers!, but this is outer wilds, you probably know the drill

so don't spoil yourself!!

So here's the requisite Outer Wilds "There will be spoilers!" warning because there will be spoilers throughout this post from this point on, okay?

Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's start this off like every run, with a cozy campfire, shall we?

Campfires

Campfire stories

there will be mallow roasting over a campfire

Marshmallows

S'mores (OMG how much I wish someone - anyone - got to make a s'more.)

And Riebeck is a big marshmallow

Implied/Referenced Drug Use

just two high buddies chillin and talking about stuff

Now that we're all enjoying perfectly-roasted marshmallows, let's get to it:

breaking spacetime in pursuit of science

they/them pronouns

it is more difficult than I thought to avoid gendered words

Based on my friend's inability to fly and ability to land anywhere

feldspar is a newbie to anxiety

Dark Bramble scary

Third wheeling except your crush is in love with the entirety of space

quantum tomfoolery

the tyranny of linear time

Something about the horror of eternity

the fabric of spacetime is hanging on by a thread

infinite possibilities brain go brrrrrrr

impulsive feelings about chert today

the hatchling just wants to share their findings they're so excited

little tiny bit of cosmic horror

this was written in about 20 minutes (I really need to know if this "about 20 minutes" was, in fact, 22 minutes.)

they're gonna be fine in 22 minutes just

this heist could have been a meeting

Hornfels needs an advil

somebody go save hatchling im begging get this kid a marshmallow

they can have one happily ever after as a treat

Feldspar and I both have no idea how to raise a baby in general

there is so much trauma in this owl

this literally came to me in a dream

Gabbro is depressed in this one because you can't convince me being so blase about losing their ship, and being able to meditate through a supernova is the hallmark of someone mentally well

gabbro is also doing so fine and normal and also does not have any hearing problems (lie)

They all need a hug, Except the anglers

Someone invent therapy for these three, They're going to need it so badly

Spacetime needs therapy after this

Anyway let's go die horrifically in space! ::D

trauma bonds

also i totally stole the main premise for this fic from a mod

when gossan goes low slate goes lower

hatchling was not supposed to be a kazoo player but they're really stubborn

i just think the player should be allowed to play an instrument (Me, too.)

Quartz-Typical Disregard for Ethics

canon typical disregard for affliction

There is an eject button for a reason

does it count as major character death if they come back?

Is it still considered the end of the world if its the entire universe thats dying?

the possibly applicable archive warning is major character death, but you knew that already didn't you?

the many deaths of you

Canon-Typical Suicide, thats an insane tag but its Outer Wilds sooooo

Five Stages of Grief, with a 6th secret stage (Can we call this "the sixth location of grief" please?)

i really tried not to make it sad at the end but the loops are tragic man

I Made Myself Cry

Okay, let's wrap up with all the varied "not beta read" tags this exquisite game lends itself to, nay, demands:

No beta we die like REDACTED

no beta we die like. well. you know

No beta we die every loop

no beta we die like the hatchling

no beta we die like hatchling (horrifically)

no beta we die like gabbro, chill and overstressed

No beta we die like real hearthians

no beta we die like everyone in outer wild does

No beta we die like the sun

no beta we die like the sun every 22 minutes

NO BETA READERS WE DIE LIKE THE STARS

no beta we die like the universe

No beta we die like any time-looper worth their salt

No beta we die like the homeworld

NO BETA WE DIE LIKE NOMAI

No beta we die like 5/6ths of best girl (I teared up reading this tag.)

no beta we die like the prisoner (I nearly sobbed reading this tag.)

No Beta We Just Cry

No beta we die like the fish (Not gonna lie, this one is my personal fave.)

[kikiwooo]

i’m the anon that asked about xavier and fredrinn tag teaming me and i haven’t been brainrotting about fredrinn lately but i’ve been thinking about xavier as a camboy alot 😭 idk the idea just appeals to me. and i’ve been trying to think of other characters that would fit this trope, like i could totally see lancelot, yin and gusion as camboys HAHAHA

MANNN GODDAM Y'ALL HAVE SOME QUITE INTERESTING FANTASIES 💀😭 I kinda didn't liked what I wrote and some parts might be short because I died

notes; gn! reader, camboy! mlbb boys

Gusion

lmao gus after his brother didn't give him enough money or overall he doesn't have enough money for himself, quite pitiful indeed. Let's jump straight into it cuz if I ever go into detail that would be an essay +he's paxley so probably there's like lot who knows him and his ego just wouldn't allow him

He probably does challenges about how big and deep he can take in and people just following cuz he's not only a new face but a pretty one too+he's also stubborn. He reads every donation out loud, also those shitty and troll ones too, he's that gullible but he learns it after it happens a few times. his eyes does go wide and his system stops for a few seconds after receiving big ass donation (while having a big ass dildo up his ass, his challenge not mine) will also smirk if the person who donated him challenge to another thing and says they'll pay him even more if he does this and that, Gus will do it no matter how impossible it is. (is that dragon di-

Will frequently invite you to his streams or videos if you guys are in relationship irl, but if you only watch and donate and maybe sing in membership(he has the silliest emotions of himself) he'll favor that one person(it's you)

Yin

INEXPERIENCEDDD I TELL YOU, but somewhat he's pretty good with those dildos, bro's born for it. Lieh is tired of hearing Yin's sloppy whimpers and half moans which he tries so hard to hide.( They're twins) most of the people favor him and only him cuz he's cute.

He recording videos cuz he heard it from Lieh that one makes so much money from it and only it. Yin was insecure at first so he first talked it with one of his very very close friend(you), but like super duper close, he can't handle anyone else other than you so you're his go to. He's pretty vanilla but from time to time he doesn't skip to try new things (𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂), also somehow gets lots of donations even if he does literally nothing and just sits in front of the camera (you know the deal shh)

But if you're one of his viewers, and probably the nicer one than those of the perverts and just keep him in his ground and offer him to do new things to not lose the attention+also keeping him updated about literally everything going around, somehow Yin even offered you a private video just for you- or just a simple invite (lieh didn't liked that)

Lancelot

ALRIGHTTT, lance is experienced and probably has been in this camboy things for years, he's pretty proud of his own body and shamelessly shows it into the camera without any hesitation maybe that's why he's so popular.

Though he's open to the camera, you can never get anything from him real life, he shuts the topic really fast that you can't even argue back. If you're one of his viewers+have membership probably the earliest one, yeah lance over here has a VIP room for y'all like the first seats of the cinema. Lance cares about what his viewers want because that's where the money comes from, no?

Lancelot is actually fond of tight clothes/gears?? Like how they squeeze is skin so deliciously(he knows his chat loves it, he also himself likes them so win?)

Everyone's literally there for his girly moans what are you talking about.

Xavier

Y'all how we got him on here, 's like we won the lottery???? despite being quiet both irl and in front of the camera, we can hear soft grunts and gasps whilst he's taking it hard(I'm not the one salivating no it's you) AHHHH HE'S JUST, PERFECT??? the way his waist and they way he turns around to check, the way his muscles mmhmmmmhmhmhm. Though he likes you interrupting his streams when you come behind him to tease, he scolds you from after the stream (damn). if one of his viewers with membership, he quietly thanks those people (he whispers, asmr fr) at the beginning of the video/stream, doesn't show much of a reaction at the donates, he's doing it for it anyway, but his eyes will visibly widen whenever reaching such lot donations with cute messages(his fandom is 🎀yes both genders),

He's always sore after the streams and videos, no matter how he took it from low, he always ends up sore which he complains about it, but does he make money? yes so so much and he doesn't thinking about giving it up any time soon.