#gardening while queer

[samwisethewitch]

Homemaking, gardening, and self-sufficiency resources that won't radicalize you into a hate group

It seems like self-sufficiency and homemaking skills are blowing up right now. With the COVID-19 pandemic and the current economic crisis, a lot of folks, especially young people, are looking to develop skills that will help them be a little bit less dependent on our consumerist economy. And I think that's generally a good thing. I think more of us should know how to cook a meal from scratch, grow our own vegetables, and mend our own clothes. Those are good skills to have.

Unfortunately, these "self-sufficiency" skills are often used as a recruiting tactic by white supremacists, TERFs, and other hate groups. They become a way to reconnect to or relive the "good old days," a romanticized (false) past before modern society and civil rights. And for a lot of people, these skills are inseparably connected to their politics and may even be used as a tool to indoctrinate new people.

In the spirit of building safe communities, here's a complete list of the safe resources I've found for learning homemaking, gardening, and related skills. Safe for me means queer- and trans-friendly, inclusive of different races and cultures, does not contain Christian preaching, and does not contain white supremacist or TERF dog whistles.

Homemaking/Housekeeping/Caring for your home:

Making It by Kelly Coyne and Erik Knutzen [book] (The big crunchy household DIY book; includes every level of self-sufficiency from making your own toothpaste and laundry soap to setting up raised beds to butchering a chicken. Authors are explicitly left-leaning.)

Safe and Sound: A Renter-Friendly Guide to Home Repair by Mercury Stardust [book] (A guide to simple home repair tasks, written with rentals in mind; very compassionate and accessible language.)

How To Keep House While Drowning by KC Davis [book] (The book about cleaning and housework for people who get overwhelmed by cleaning and housework, based on the premise that messiness is not a moral failing; disability and neurodivergence friendly; genuinely changed how I approach cleaning tasks.)

Gardening

Rebel Gardening by Alessandro Vitale [book] (Really great introduction to urban gardening; explicitly discusses renter-friendly garden designs in small spaces; lots of DIY solutions using recycled materials; note that the author lives in England, so check if plants are invasive in your area before putting them in the ground.)

Country/Rural Living:

Woodsqueer by Gretchen Legler [book] (Memoir of a lesbian who lives and works on a rural farm in Maine with her wife; does a good job of showing what it's like to be queer in a rural space; CW for mentions of domestic violence, infidelity/cheating, and internalized homophobia)

"Debunking the Off-Grid Fantasy" by Maggie Mae Fish [video essay] (Deconstructs the off-grid lifestyle and the myth of self-reliance)

Sewing/Mending:

Annika Victoria [YouTube channel] (No longer active, but their videos are still a great resource for anyone learning to sew; check out the beginner project playlist to start. This is where I learned a lot of what I know about sewing.)

Make, Sew, and Mend by Bernadette Banner [book] (A very thorough written introduction to hand-sewing, written by a clothing historian; lots of fun garment history facts; explicitly inclusive of BIPOC, queer, and trans sewists.)

Sustainability/Land Stewardship

Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer [book] (Most of you have probably already read this one or had it recommended to you, but it really is that good; excellent example of how traditional animist beliefs -- in this case, indigenous American beliefs -- can exist in healthy symbiosis with science; more philosophy than how-to, but a great foundational resource.)

Wild Witchcraft by Rebecca Beyer [book] (This one is for my fellow witches; one of my favorite witchcraft books, and an excellent example of a place-based practice deeply rooted in the land.)

Avoiding the "Crunchy to Alt Right Pipeline"

Note: the "crunchy to alt-right pipeline" is a term used to describe how white supremacists and other far right groups use "crunchy" spaces (i.e., spaces dedicated to farming, homemaking, alternative medicine, simple living/slow living, etc.) to recruit and indoctrinate people into their movements. Knowing how this recruitment works can help you recognize it when you do encounter it and avoid being influenced by it.

"The Crunchy-to-Alt-Right Pipeline" by Kathleen Belew [magazine article] (Good, short introduction to this issue and its history.)

Sisters in Hate by Seyward Darby (I feel like I need to give a content warning: this book contains explicit descriptions of racism, white supremacy, and Neo Nazis, and it's a very difficult read, but it really is a great, in-depth breakdown of the role women play in the alt-right; also explicitly addresses the crunchy to alt-right pipeline.)

These are just the resources I've personally found helpful, so if anyone else has any they want to add, please, please do!

[silkentine]

Me when they are the sisters ever: 😭😭😭 They came out soooo freaking well. I won’t lie, they took me a thousand years to finish but through the constant support from all of my buds (and my latent bisexuality), we made it 😤

Hopefully you guys know the deal by now: design choices, easter eggs, and (NEW!) closeup shots below the read more. ⬇️

I wanted Ace to have a very down-to-earth vibe and looked at Aussie beach-girls, coastal cowgirls, and vaqueras for reference. (IDK, I’ve just always envisioned Ace as part-Australian🌺 and Mexican 🏴‍☠️) Her clothing choices are mostly natural or utilitarian materials like the painted wooden beads on her top, her woven fabric and leather belts, and her denim jumpsuit. I gave her bikini top a zen-garden kind of feel because I read the first Ace’s Story Novel and I loved how idyllic and peaceful they made Sixis Island sound so I wanted to invoke that in some way.

Speaking of her painted wooden beads, they hang off the back of her top and represent her connection to Sabo and Luffy. They watch her back once she sets sail. She only wears one red glass bead earring because the other one got ripped out of her ear when a child, leaving her earlobe torn (don’t think about it too much 😢). Also, YES! she does wear a hibiscus flower just like Rouge (because I hate you and I want to make you cry, muhwahahahaha).

Also, I really wanted her to have super textured curly hair that licks behind her like flames. I am always considering whether or not a character should have long hair or not because I don’t want it to be a hindrance if they’re in a fight (or if they ARE a fighter with long hair, how to they avoid an enemy making use of that?). Ace is, of course, a Logia-type Devil Fruit User so I think she wouldn’t have trouble with people grabbing it LOL I get the feeling that she doesn’t take very good care of it even though it looks amazing. Like you’d think it would be soft and bouncy just by looking at it but if you ever get the chance to run your fingers through it, it’s a total rat’s nest and there’s sand and food all up in it. She still falls asleep while eating 😂 but she tries her best to only do it around people she can trust (woman moment 😔).

Honestly, her design is not that different from Ace’s canon look. It feels really vital to Ace’s character to have a lot of skin showing. And he’s always hanging all over himself with his hips all cocked like the weight of the world is too much to stand up straight. It is certainly not my OWN preference to make her an absolute smoke show. That’s just the character, okay? (I’m partially lying and the proof is that I turned the emblem on Ace’s hat strap into a sternum tattoo for no other reason than that it is sexy af.)

Here are some closeups of Ace:

Now for Sabo, I’ve made her very girly. I tried putting her in pants or something more militant but she told me that she’d wear the big poofy sleeves and hiked-up ruffled skirt. I think Sabo has always had a strong grasp on his fashion sense and individual flair and I truly believe that his personal style is one of the major influences for the rest of the Revolutionary Army resulting in the very flashy, queer, steampunk aesthetic (aside from Dragon’s plain-ass cloak). So of course I had to implement her nonconformist look when reimagining her as a woman and dress her up to the nines.

I’ve given her very ornate jewelry that is there to tell a story, even if she herself doesn’t know it. I like to think she picks up stuff from her travels that resonate with her, such as a damaged set of earrings with one stone missing or red cup-shaped shells featuring three nestled pearls. Another accessory that cannot go unmentioned is her dragon claw hat pin that keeps her top hat resting on top of her hair (and is definitely used as a weapon when the situation simply doesn’t call for trusty metal pipe). She also has a veil that obscures her prominent facial scar. I imagine she’s not very keen on the reminder of the incident from her childhood that took away her memories. I also kept her chipped toothed because 1) it’s fucking adorable and 2) is a visual reminder that she no longer aligns herself with the nobility who would have gotten such a thing fixed. She is so poised in almost every outward facet of her life from her dignified role as the Chief of Staff to the elegant materials in her clothing that it can be easy to forget she was also a rough and tumble forest dweller. Every time Koala remembers this, he lets out the biggest sigh.

Her hair is inspired by Gibson Girls and Elizabeth Swann from the first Pirates of the Caribbean movie. I wanted it to be fussy and tidy but fall apart when she’s in moments of distress. For example, when she remembers her sisters, her hair starts to look like Ace’s flaming mane. I’m so in love with her, I think she looks like an adorable little porcelain doll that would fuck you up. I made an effort to keep her eyes a little bit manic. I get lost in her steely black orbs (and also Ace’s warm brown ones, but we’re talking about Sabo rn).

Here are her close-ups:

Plot notes for this AU:

For this series of character designs, I wanted the expressions and outfits to be aligned with the canon plot but I don’t know if I have the heart to kill fem!Ace in my AU. I’m too attached and ASL has suffered enough!!!!! But Ace’s death is also a major defining moment for Luffy so it feels disingenuous to completely avoid it. Also a huge aspect of Sabo’s character is carrying on Ace’s will and I have so many thoughts about how the Dressrosa Colosseum scene would play out if they were all women. Oh well, I’ll cross that tragic bridge when I get to it. I’m definitely going to draw some Modern AU Girl Piece ASL though. They deserve to hang out with no stakes 😭 They are sisters!!!

Check out the tag “girl piece” on my blog for my other One Piece genderbends! 🥰

[booksinmythorax]

Some tips from a librarian for today and the future:

Go to the library. Get a card. Borrow things. Buying books is neat, but the books the fascists want to ban are still there, on the shelf, at your local library, and if they aren't, you can request them. While book bans can happen and are happening in public libraries, the vast majority of "successful" challenges are happening in school libraries. You can still get books from your public library, and getting the books from the library tells your library they should keep them on the shelf. Borrowing anything, walking in the door, and/or attending programs all help get your library more funding. Fighting censorship in this way is effective and costs you $0.

Pay attention to local government. Read your local newspaper, or the local-est paper you can find. (You wanna know who can probably help you read your local paper for free? Your local library.) Look up your representatives in your state and local governments, not just federal. Read their biographies online. Find out what they stand for.

When something divisive is happening in your local community (a book ban, a school board ruling on bathrooms or sports, a change in curriculum), show up. No, literally. Show up to the school board meeting, the library board meeting, the county commission meeting. If you can't show up, make a phone call. If you can't make a phone call, write an email. Your voice has the most effect on the local and state level.

Now, counterintuitively, is a really good time to get to know your neighbors. Do not self isolate out of suspicion. We are stronger together. If you need suggestions for ways to get to know those neighbors, your local library probably has groups you can join, or will start them if you ask nicely and promise to show up. Hand to the gods, a once-monthly book club or gardening club or crochet circle might be your difference between total despair and feeling maybe pretty okay.

Only talk about your personal identities and experiences if you think you will be physically safe doing so. Consider limiting your social media posting. Buy a paper diary. Talk to people in person or via secure direct message if you really want to grow relationships and make an impact. Educating others is great and important. It's also most effective when you have an existing personal relationship with the person involved in the conversation with you. Consider starting new accounts without your face or name if you choose to continue using social media.

Avoid talking about others' personal identities and experiences, particularly without their consent. Your friends, family members, children, and partners are not tools you should use to win an argument. Point to the lives of writers, activists, educators, and artists who are out if you need an illustrative example in a teaching moment with someone you know. Others' religious beliefs, immigration statuses, queer identities, and pregnancy statuses are nobody's fucking business but their own, unless they choose to tell others for their own reasons.

[darkmuffinstudios]

headcanons 2 electric boogaloo part 103 because i'm still not normal

(The first post cut me off in character limit, so here's the continuation :3)

(These can be general headcanons, found family, queer platonic, or poly if you want to interpret them in any way ^^)

There's couch that can fit then entire gang on it that everyone likes to sit at. Dust dislikes anyone taking his spot, Killer constantly keeps changing spots, Cross always picks his spot last, Horror sits on the floor, and Nightmare sits in a arm chair off to the side.

Killer forces all of the gang to watch movies every so often, typically when things become stale around the castle. The rest all act like they hate it, but Horror still makes popcorn, Dust collects all the blankets, and Cross helps set up the TV.

During the winter, the gang all huddle up in Nightmare's room for a large sleepover. The castle can be big and chilly.

Nightmare used to keep a moderate distance between his subordinates and himself. However, the first time Killer ended up in the infirmary changed that. It was only the two of them, and Nightmare realized the fragility of mortals that day.

Nightmare is a worrier for several reasons.

Nightmare mixes and matches his team in groups of 2, rarely sending any one of his men on solo missions (unless absolutely necessary). Safety in numbers.

Horror's love language is giving gifts and acts of service. He feels conflicted receiving it back, preferring touch instead.

Same with the last point, Horror is a cuddle bug- to Killer's delight.

Dust can't sleep in one, continuous stretch. This results with him taking 2-3 hour power naps at varying times throughout the day.

Horror snores in his sleep. Not loudly, but kind of like a soft rumble with each breath.

Dust likes Horror's snoring. It's therapeutic.

Killer sleeps like a corpse. Still and silent- which is strange when juxtaposed by his usual, lively demeanor.

Cross is an early riser and late sleeper. His circadian rhythm is exact, and runs like clockwork.

We're not going to talk about Killer's sleep schedule. He knows its bad. No one can fix it.

When Cross first joined, he felt extremely guilty for his chocolate cravings. After a while and some encouragement from the others, he finds himself indulging himself (at least in this one regard).

Cross loves sweets, not just chocolate. Chocolate just happens to be one of his favorite things/flavors though.

Cross keeps a mini snack stash in his pocket at all times. On missions, out and about, in his room, training, etc. You can look over at him and see him pop a chocolate kiss in his mouth. His one guilty pleasure.

Nightmare and Dust enjoy their fair share of alcoholic drinks. Nightmare has quite the collection- ranging from various years of quality, make, and base. Of course, they are all expensive.

Horror and Cross are indifferent to alcohol. They may indulge in it when there is a special occasion, but otherwise they don't go out of their way.

Killer is the only one that does not enjoy alcohol. If you see him drinking, leave him be. Bro is probably going through it.

Dust sometimes wears glasses to read. Depends on if he cares to put them on or not.

Out of the group, Cross is the designated driver. Nightmare not only doesn't know how to, but also doesn't have full peripheral vision. Horror and Dust would get stressed out/overstimulated on the road.

Killer is the backup driver, but there is a 80% chance of the car crashing at the end. Despite this, he's one hell of a getaway driver.

Horror likes to spend time out in the garden.

Killer is the only one which has explored every room/inch in the castle. He sometimes uses secret passages to scare the others, or cut his walking time in half.

Cross has a nervous habit of fidgeting with his heart locket.

Dust has claustrophobia. Small spaces, large crowds, feeling trapped? He'll come out swinging.

Everyone knows this and always is careful to make sure Dust has an easy out whenever they nap together.

Nightmare is always the one to attend to any of their wounds when they get hurt on missions. He fusses and lectures and rants the whole time he's bandaging them up, mending broken bones, treating illnesses. Everyone knows its because he cares.

Dust get sick the easiest. Because his own magic is trying to boil him alive from the inside out sometimes.

Killer is the least likely to get sick.

Nightmare can't get sick.

Okay, well, Nightmare can, but it would have to be like. the plague to end all plagues.

Nightmare doesn't let any of the boys buy apples.

The only times Horror wears his hood over his head is if its raining/snowing. His head gets itchy if he wears it up for too long.

Killer has a knife on him at all times. You can pat this man down, take off a couple of knives, and he can still shank you afterwards.

All of them, to some extent, have trust issues. They learn to trust each other over time, though.

Nightmare hangs up pictures of his boys up in his office. He even frames them.

Nightmare has a secret picture tucked in a drawer in his desk. It's a drawing that Dream had made for him (a crude drawing of the both of them in a field of flowers), one he had safely folded and tucked into his favorite book as a child.

After the whole apple fiasco, the book barely survived (the picture along with it) and Nightmare rereads it whenever he's feeling sentimental.

Killer is extremely nosy. If he can't get what he wants by asking/prodding, he'll snoop. Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back and all.

I don't remember if I mentioned this in the other post, but Nightmare's bed is HUGE. Like King Deluxe plus plus. It also has those fancy canopy, curtain things that can close around the bed.

Killer's bed doesn't have a bedframe, just a mattress.

Dust's bed is circular and decently big. It also has that drape canopy that can cover it, as well as a shit ton of pillows.

Horror gets cold easily.

Nightmare makes sure Horror gets enough blankets during particular cold nights. Maybe a heater too.

Killer has a bad habit of sleeping in other people's rooms. He just barges in and makes himself at home. Over time, the others have let him get away with it.

Lots of mirrors in the castle were taken down after Dust shattered the first few.

That doesn't stop Killer from having a full body one in his room though.

Cross has a favorite training dummy.

Horror names his weapons and kitchen tools. He tends to keep that to himself.

Killer, weirdly enough, knows how to repair clothes. Hole in your jacket? He can stitch it back fairly neatly.

Dust has ripped quite a few sets of clothes in his days. He's gotten used to shrugging them off and dumping them on Killer.

Killer always returns Dust's stuff with a little chocolate inside the pocket/with it (probably stolen from Cross's stash).

When Horror gets anxious, he starts to pick at the crack in his head. To stop this habit, he just sits on his hands.

Nightmare thinks its a little amusing that Horror sits on his hands. Hey, if it works for Horror, then that's all the king needs.

Whenever Nightmare needs to run errands, he always brings Cross with him and lets Killer hold down the fort in his absence.

Cross works hard with Nightmare every year to ensure that their realm can't be found by anyone else. Encrypting code, manipulating magic, etc. While this is an annual thing that they do, Cross checks up on the state of it every month diligently.

Nightmare and Killer like the ocean. They visit it sometimes.

Horror makes sure to create meals that are balanced, healthy, and to preference. Also likes to keep the fridge stocked up.

Cross and Dust sometimes play chess with each other.

The whole gang (minus Nightmare) love playing cards.

Uno cards are banned from the castle after Nightmare repaired the three large holes in his castle wall.

Horror puts all of his food scraps in a compost bin and recycles it into his garden.

Aaaaand that's the limit again.

Very silly to think about, but I might make a separate one concerning ships/bsp because my mind started to wander LMAOOOOO

Hope you enjoy these!

[makingqueerhistory]

Queer history fact: (493-534 BC) Duke Ling, a married man, was madly in love with his courtesan, Mizi Xia. Mizi Xia was said to be incredibly beautiful and well-loved throughout Wie, the land the Duke ruled. While the two were in an extramarital relationship, the Duke was very open about his love for the other man.

When Xia's mother became ill Xia forged the Duke's signature to take one of the carriages. This offence was punishable by cutting off the thief's feet, but when Xia returned, the Duke didn't punish him. Instead, he praised his love's loyalty to family and willingness to face punishment to be with his mother.

Another source of pride for the Duke was the bitten peach; a symbol still used to signify love between men in China. While walking through the garden together, Xia picked a peach and took a single bite. When he realized it was particularly sweet, he gave it to the Duke. The Duke praised Xia, saying:

"How sincere is your love for me! You forgot your appetite and thought only of giving me good things to eat!”

It is a beautiful story, but its telling begins for another reason. It was originally recorded by a scholar who used the story's beginning and eventual end as a parable. It was said that after Xia's beauty faded, so did the Duke's love for him. He was accused of crimes against the Duke—the crimes for which he'd received praise. The theft of the carriage and the gift of the half-eaten peach, once hailed by the Duke, now brought punishment for Xia. The scholar used the Duke's shifting attitude to ward against the dangers of falling into the favour of powerful people.

[tshifty]

actually yk what im going to just make a running list of things ive been thinking about and others may also want to over the coming weeks and months, and ill just keep updating this so it's shared:

if you are transitioning or are hoping to, make a plan to talk to your local abortion funds and radical queer orgs about how they are going to maintain access to T and other hormones etc.

if you take birth control, start thinking through ways to maintain your access. they will be coming for birth control and likely other forms of contraception too.

make sure you know who your local abortion funds are, and/or abortion funds in states surrounding where you live. they will be stockpiling plan B, you also can do that it has a 4 year shelf life.

if your passport expires anytime in the next 4 years I would encourage going ahead and getting it renewed. it will last 10 years.

know who your neighbors are. talk to your neighbors. im so serious. online communities are great but we need people in our real daily lives. join a club or an organization if you aren't part of one. find your people. community will be our grounding point.

does your area have a community garden? find where! know where your food pantries are. start thinking through ways to look out not only for yourself but for your neighbors and communities, for those who already are struggling and whose circumstances will get increasingly worse.

look into tap water filtration and air purifiers. if and when they gut governmental institutions it will start impacting our air and water, particularly if you live in a major city. yall saw what the wildfire smoke did across the northern US last year, that will happen again.

start to slowly stock up on covid tests. many city libraries give out free covid tests-- don't go grab a ton all at once, but just make sure you have a few boxes on hand for yourself and your friends/family. make sure you're keeping a pulse on the expiration dates, but they typically last quite a while and many are good even beyond the originally listed expiration date.

are you up to date on your vaccines? if not, make sure to get that done at your next doctor's appointment.

[0w0tsuki]

The concept of "Being viewed as transmisogynistic is worse than actual acts transmisoginy" has reached it's logical extreme and the term Terf has become so muddled that now it's becoming a common tactic to accuse trans women of being TERFs to have the veneer of trans allyship while harassing trans women. It's being used from "drinking radfem koolaid" said by trans androphobia truthers to "you look like a garden variety TERF" by a PickMe Transfem looking to throw her sisters under the bus to trans women being called gender essentialists for making egg jokes.

And it not just Terf accusations. It's also accusing trans of being Crypto Channers or kiwifarms users. Basically any predator of trans women are becoming the new smokescreen to harass trans women under and it's fucking insulting and disgusting. TERFs are a hate group that's specifically seeking our genocide. Kiwifarms is a site dedicated to doxing us and painting us as sexual predators.

Not only is it paradoxical and impossible for a trans woman to be a TERF but the attempt to paint them as one is an act of violence. It is attempt to to not only ostracize us from the wider queer community but from from our sisters. The very small community that we had to carve for ourselves to feel the smallest amount of safety. It's lying and giving otherwise trans positive people the greenlight to harass us and tell themselves that they are doing it to protect the rest of us from us.

If you find yourself falling for this you seriously need to reevaluate your allyship to trans women.

[capseycartwright]

can't ignore the crazy visions of me in la

Margarita-drunk Buck ruminates on how beautiful Eddie Diaz is while his best friend is dancing to Chappell Roan. That's what LA pride is for, right? - or, alternatively: Eddie spends his first pride as an out queer man in a gay club, and Buck is in love with him about it.

written for week one of @summerofbuddie- mixed media. the mixed media part of this fic is eddie's big gay playlist, and is full of what i believe to be all of eddie's favourite queer music. pls enjoy.

ao3 link

Buck had always thought that Eddie was beautiful. He knew how that sounded – but even when he had thought he was straight, Buck had always felt quite comfortable in his masculinity. Men were beautiful. Okay, sure, with the benefit of hindsight, it was long-buried bisexuality threatening to burst to the surface, but the point stood: Eddie Diaz had always been beautiful to Buck. 

Physically, yes, he was beautiful. He had these big brown eyes that had always been incredibly effective at getting Buck to do all the things Eddie didn’t want to do –  small things, like driving (of course, because Eddie was a passenger princess at heart, and Buck was more than happy to indulge), and cooking, until Eddie had begun to find a love for that himself, and the bigger things too, like agreeing to be Eddie’s medical proxy, and being Christopher’s guardian in case – well, Buck didn’t like to articulate the rest of that one. It felt like jinxing it, so he always left it at ‘in case’ – nothing else needed to be said.

Eddie was physically beautiful – he had the softest brown hair Buck had ever come across, and a sweet grin that got him more than his fair share of attention on calls, and firefighting had packed on a lot of muscle over the years, so maybe he wasn’t the proud owner of an eight-pack, anymore, but Eddie’s body was strong, and capable, and Buck felt that was beautiful too. 

Eddie was gorgeous, was the thing – but he wasn’t just physically beautiful. Eddie Diaz had a really beautiful personality, too. It had taken a while for him to allow Buck to get to know it – and not just Buck, for everyone else, too – but when Eddie had decided to let people in, and see who he truly was, underneath the somewhat gruff exterior, there has been so much beauty there. Eddie was kind, kind in a way that Buck could only admire, genuine in his kindness. Buck could see where Christopher got it from.

Eddie was gentle, too. Buck knew most people would doubt that, given the life Eddie led – an army veteran with a penchant for street fighting and Muay Thai – but Buck knew better. Those were all circumstances, responses to a life filled with trauma, and underneath all of that, Eddie was the gentlest person he knew. Eddie would always be the one who carefully picked up spiders, and bees, if they found their way into the firehouse, or Buck’s apartment, or his own home, and he’d coo gently as he brought them to the window, setting them free before anyone (Buck, usually) could hit them with a stray hardback novel. Eddie liked to garden, a collection of brightly coloured flowers growing in the front bed right outside his porch, Eddie humming to himself as he watered them, the image one Buck hoped would be seared into his memory forever.

Eddie was gentle with Christopher. Buck hadn’t exactly grown up with a father he aspired to be like – Philip had been cold, and distant, and though Buck understood why now, he would never forgive it. Eddie had been through his fair share of heartbreak, and trauma, and yet he still raised Christopher with a gentle hand, guiding his son through life in a way Buck had never experienced himself. He was glad to be able to watch it, though, watch as Eddie learned from his own mistakes, and apologised to Chris, and did better for his son every day. 

Eddie was gentle with Buck.

Buck was a lot, he knew – he was loud, and talkative, and the undiagnosed ADHD he definitely had made it so both of those qualities were amplified when he was stressed, or anxious, which was frankly, a lot of the time. Buck knew he earned his eyerolls and exasperated looks – but never from Eddie. Eddie always listened, attentive and eager to learn as Buck went off on tangent about the latest fun thing he learned. Eddie was the first to suggest a gym session, when he knew Buck was antsier than normal, suggesting they work off some of his nervous energy before their next call.

Eddie had been there after the truck bombing, gentle as he had torn down Buck’s already shaky walls, gentle as he helped Buck in, and out of bed, gentle as he’d helped him shower, shrugging off Buck’s thanks with a ‘you’d do the same for me’ and a smile. 

(Buck would do the same for Eddie – he would do anything for Eddie.)

Eddie was beautiful. Eddie was beautiful when he smiled, when he laughed, Eddie was beautiful in every single conceivable way to Buck –

But this might be the most beautiful Buck had ever seen his best friend.

read the rest on ao3

[pftones3482]

Being so serious when I say that NOW more than ever, if you live in the US, you NEED to preserve physical media.

- Physical books, ESPECIALLY commonly banned/likely to be banned ones (not just the classics - those are important, but people are much more likely to have those secured. I'm talking children's literature, especially non-white and LGBTQIA stories. I'm talking religious texts, gardening books, crafting books ((sewing especially)), dictionaries/books in other languages, ESPECIALLY native American languages - get em all)

- Physical music - CDs, records, cassettes, whatever you can get your hands on. If you have the ability to get the supplies to burn your own CDs with modern music, even better. Songs about dissent and rebellion, queerness, blackness, a lot of punk/rock/rap, will be the first stuff to be targeted

- Movies - DVDs, VHS, whatever. We've seen with Netflix removing their own original shows that content can disappear off the face of the earth with a snap. I've been collecting my favorite movies from childhood, highly recommend you do the same

- Cookbooks. In a worst case scenario, it is very handy to have recipes in a physical book. Most cookbooks also have sections with information on how to properly and safely cook many foods, which can be helpful. If you don't own a cookbook, start by taking your favorite recipes from online and either print them out and put them in a folder OR do what I do and hand copy them into a notebook (your hand will hurt but you can personalize the recipes easily that way!)

We are entering an age where our media is being controlled by fewer and fewer people, one big monopoly. Preserve it while we can. And while you're at it, read Fahrenheit 451. It is, in my opinion, one of the most important banned books you could ever read to understand WHY the preservation of media is so important

[shesjustanothergeek]

The Gods We Can Touch

Archmaester Gyldayn’s Testimonies of Princess Aelora Targaryen’s Youth

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: This is kind of a filler chapter until I can finish chapter 7. I was planning on either putting this at the end of chapter 6 or the beginning of chapter 7, but here is as good as any. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that I'll be able to finish chapter 7 by next Sunday. Thank you for your support and patience. Love y'all! (⁠*⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠)⁠/⁠～⁠♡

Chapter Warnings: mentions of childhood SA, mental illness, suicidal ideations, Targaryen queerness.

Princess Rhaenyra’s eldest child blossomed into a captivating presence at Dragonstone, earning admiration from those close to her but invoking fear and ire in those who dared to cross her. Known for her unpredictable temperament, she would fall into fits of anger and sorrow, during which her judgment would become clouded, leading to subsequent regret. In bouts of profound grief, she sought solace in Aegon’s Garden with the company of flora and fauna, finding peace and consolation by tending to the roses and lilacs and fashioning delicate flower crowns for her siblings to wear.

When Princess Aelora was approximately ten and two, eyewitnesses observed her standing on the balcony railing for an extended period during one of her episodes, seemingly trance-like. Despite numerous attempts to persuade her to step down, she adamantly refused, stating her desire for a better view of the landscape. In response to this concerning behavior, Princess Rhaenyra took the drastic measure of ordering the balcony doors to be permanently sealed shut. The exact cause of her distressing episodes remains shrouded in mystery. While many attributed it to the infamous Targaryen madness in her bloodline, the Fool Mushroom believed it was linked to a specific incident involving Prince Aegon during her early years.

Late one night, he claims to have spied on Princess Rhaenyra and Prince Daemon in their bed chambers on Dragonstone. He overheard the Princess confiding in her husband about her eldest’s behavioral problems and impulsivity. He alleges that she confessed to a rape committed by Prince Aegon on her daughter while they were living in King’s Landing. However, this information is heavily debated, as there has been no further mention in oral or written records.

When Princess Aelora reached ten and four, scandalous rumors began circulating on Dragonstone about her relationship with her twin brother, Prince Jacaerys. It was whispered that their stepfather went to her rooms after reports of suspicious sounds emerging from behind closed. Prince Daemon was rumored to have discovered the Prince in a compromising position between the legs of the Princess. In response to the gossip, Princess Rhaenyra sent her daughter to study abroad at the Citadel and in Dorne as a gesture of goodwill, hoping it would ease her troubled mind. This separation was particularly difficult for the twins, as it was the first time they had ever been apart. Prince Jacaerys was visibly upset during this time, spending hours upon end sulking inside his chambers and absconding his duties until Princess Aelora finally returned home once they both came of age.

Nevertheless, Princess Aelora radiated warmth and kindness to all she encountered. She was admired for her outgoing and naive nature, and she took great delight in her love for nature, herbalism, botany, and medical techniques gathered from her journeys around the realm. Her fondness for citrus plants was evident as she carried the sweet scent of the fruits wherever she roamed, though they were difficult to cultivate on Dragonstone’s soil. Adorned in her late father’s distinguished Velaryon blue, she was never seen without the elegance of pearls, aquamarine, topaz, and sapphire, with a delicate headpiece and veil enshrouding her dark, lustrous locks.

When eligible suitors ventured to Dragonstone intending to court Rhaenyra’s eldest daughter, she dismissively turned them away, leaving the cock hurt Lords to return home scorned. It was said that during a gathering of the court, Princess Aelora boldly declared that she harbored no yearning for a marital alliance, as she found solace in the enduring companionship of her beloved dragon Gaelithox and her loyal brother, firmly indicating that she had no intention of entering into matrimony.

IMO, the reader suffers from borderline personality disorder. People with BPD are often mistaken for having depression, but the main qualifier is periods of mania with impulsivity, which is more susceptible to hypersexuality and addictions. They're typically triggered by actual or perceived separations, disagreements, and rejections. Highly sensitive to abandonment and being alone, which brings about intense feelings of anger, fear, suicidal thoughts and self-harm, and very impulsive decisions. People with high-functioning BPD experience frequent negative thoughts, fear of rejection, and regret about expressing their feelings. I'm by no means a mental health expert. This is just my head cannon.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

Jace and the reader fulfill the Targaryen queerness. Who would've thought? XD

Thank you for reading! (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡

P.S. the reader wears what's called a French hood. I couldn't find one that matched her aesthetic unfortunately.

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld , @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint , @ln8118 , @prettyduckling22 , @primroseluna

Bold means I couldn't tag you for some reason :(

[mrcrawly]

Daryl Dixon Headcanons

got to the part in s7 where Daryl makes it back to Hilltop. OUGHHHH my shayla 💔💔💔💔💔 anyways Daryl is my fave and these have been cooking a while

likes Legos. i think the pipeline would be that he found a set of them on a run and brought them back for Carl and Carl asked him to help. he likes all the little intricate pieces and parts, kinda for the same reason he likes working with cars and bikes

DEFINITELY owned a dirtbike as a kid

likes the little honeysuckle flowers and will still stop to take one when he finds them

has been hunting for most of his life (obviously) but took up the crossbow because he hated the sound of a gun going off

his dad owned a lot of guns so he had a negative association with them before the outbreak and just had to learn to deal with it after

really cautious about making fire pits after what happened to his mom

got blackout drunk after Beth died and then never drank again

can't stand even the smell of peach schnapps

sweet tooth but doesn't get much of a chance to have sweets; Carol used to sneak him chocolate in Alexandria when she got some to make cookies

really likes cherries and peaches

took in a stray cat as a kid and never named it, just called it 'kitty' or 'cat,' but it got scared off when he dad was yelling and raving and he never found it again so he stopped keeping pets

always seems really mean to people who don't know him when they try to get acquainted but he's just insanely awkward

doesn't have the best social skills because he didn't have good examples growing up and was often isolated from other people

plays dress up with Judith whenever she wants

he always felt aroace to me and i cannot explain this

but he generally just feels queer to me can someone back me up on that

he seems like one of those characters the writers are going to give a gf just so people stop thinking he's gay

got REALLY protective over Maggie after Glenn died; he'll feel terrible forever that his bad decision was part of the reason Glenn got killed but Maggie never blamed him for it

has nightmares of talking to Glenn's headless body in the cell he was kept in

wanted to be a dad but feels like he's too old and that he wouldn't be any good at it anyway

has never seen, heard of, or spoken the word 'chapstick' in his life. i know them lips are dry as a BONE

is used to sleeping curled up in a ball because he was always on the run and sleeping any other way made him feel vulnerable but he fucking starfished across the bed they gave him at Alexandria. like i mean he took up the ENTIRE mattress by himself

deliberately does not take painkillers when he has pains because he thinks it makes him stronger

would probably like gardening if anyone taught him to do it

"my sweet boo bear darling angel baby sweetheart" i say about a character who is fictional and also a grown man

[ai-manre]

Hang on king, a true warrior queen is coming

The strength he admires:

Val stood on the platform as still as if she had been carved of salt. She will not weep nor look away. Jon wondered what Ygritte would have done in her place. The women are the strong ones. - Jon III ADWD

Drogon roared. The sound filled the pit. A furnace wind engulfed her. The dragon's long scaled neck stretched toward her. When his mouth opened, she could see bits of broken bone and charred flesh between his black teeth. His eyes were molten. I am looking into hell, but I dare not look away. She had never been so certain of anything. - Dany IX ADWD

The shared loneliness:

Even with Ygritte sleeping beside him, he felt alone. - Jon V ASOS

She sat up with her hair disheveled and the bedclothes atangle. Her captain slept beside her, yet she was alone. - Dany VII ADWD

Lonely lovely lethal:

All the same, the wildling princess was not beloved of her gaolers. She scorned them all as "kneelers," and had thrice attempted to escape. When one man-at-arms grew careless in her presence she had snatched his dagger from its sheath and stabbed him in the neck. Another inch to the left and he might have died. Lonely and lovely and lethal, Jon Snow reflected, and I might have had her. - Jon III ADWD

Xaro took another bite, chewed, swallowed. "Daenerys, sweet queen, I cannot tell you what pleasure it gives me to bask once more in your presence. A child departed Qarth, as lost as she was lovely. I feared she was sailing to her doom, yet now I find her here enthroned, mistress of an ancient city, surrounded by a mighty host that she raised up out of dreams." - Dany III ADWD

Silver hair:

Beyond, the haunted forest waited, dark and silent. The light of the half-moon turned Val's honey-blond hair a pale silver and left her cheeks as white as snow. She took a deep breath. "The air tastes sweet." - Jon VIII ADWD

Dany's skin was flushed and pink when she climbed from the tub. Jhiqui laid her down to oil her body and scrape the dirt from her pores. Afterward Irri sprinkled her with spiceflower and cinnamon. While Doreah brushed her hair until it shone like spun silver, she thought about the moon, and eggs, and dragons. - Dany III AGOT

Wish for a dragon/wish for a rider:

We should have twenty trebuchets, not two, and they should be mounted on sledges and turntables so we could move them. It was a futile thought. He might as well wish for another thousand men, and maybe a dragon or three. - Jon VIII ASOS

The dragon has three heads. There are two men in the world who I can trust, if I can find them. I will not be alone then. We will be three against the world, like Aegon and his sisters. - Dany VI ASOS

Wishing for a dragon/wishing for someone to love a dragon:

"The Lysene pirate? Some say he has returned to his old haunts, this is so. And Lord Redwyne's war fleet creeps through the Broken Arm as well. On its way home, no doubt. But these men and their ships are well-known to us. No, these other sails … from farther east, perhaps … one hears queer talk of dragons."

Jon: "Would that we had one here. A dragon might warm things up a bit." - Jon IX ADWD

She was the blood of the dragon. She could kill the Sons of the Harpy, and the sons of the sons, and the sons of the sons of the sons. But a dragon could not feed a hungry child nor help a dying woman's pain. And who would ever dare to love a dragon? - Dany II ADWD

Shared prayers

Gods of the wood, grant me the strength to do the same, Jon Snow prayed silently. Give me the wisdom to know what must be done and the courage to do it. - Jon VII ADWD

Gods, she prayed, you took Khal Drogo, who was my sun-and-stars. You took our valiant son before he drew a breath. You have had your blood of me. Help me now, I pray you. Give me the wisdom to see the path ahead and the strength to do what I must to keep my children safe. - Dany V ADWD

Winter rose/flowers instead of violence:

If I could show her Winterfell . . . give her a flower from the glass gardens [...]

Ygritte: "Then I'd push him in a stream or throw a bucket o' water on him. Anyhow, men shouldn't smell sweet like flowers."

Jon: "What's wrong with flowers?" - Jon V ASOS

A blue flower grew from a chink in a wall of ice, and filled the air with sweetness. . . . mother of dragons, bride of fire . . . - Dany IV ADWD

"No heads," Dany insisted. "Once you brought me flowers." - Dany VII ADWD

Ruler of ruins:

He stalked across the yard, into the teeth of that wind. His cloak flapped loudly from his shoulders. Ghost came after. Where am I going? What am I doing? Castle Black was still and silent, its halls and towers dark. My seat, Jon Snow reflected. My hall, my home, my command. A ruin. - Jon VI ADWD

I am queen over a city built on dust and death. - Dany I ADWD

Turned off by their crushes due to violence against innocent:

"North of the Wall it is. Hemlock is a sure cure, but a pillow or a blade will work as well. If I had given birth to that poor child, I would have given her the gift of mercy long ago." This was a Val that Jon had never seen before. "Princess Shireen is the queen's only child." - Jon XI ADWD

Daario: "Better the butcher than the meat. All kings are butchers. Are queens so different?"

Dany: "This queen is." - Dany IV ADWD

Compassion and desire to save an entire people:

"Thousands of enemies. Thousands of wildlings."

Thousands of people, Jon thought. Men, women, children. Anger rose inside him, but when he spoke his voice was quiet and cold. - Jon VIII ADWD

"When Aegon the Dragon stepped ashore in Westeros, the kings of Vale and Rock and Reach did not rush to hand him their crowns. If you mean to sit his Iron Throne, you must win it as he did, with steel and dragonfire. And that will mean blood on your hands before the thing is done."

Blood and fire, thought Dany. The words of House Targaryen. She had known them all her life. "The blood of my enemies I will shed gladly. The blood of innocents is another matter. Eight thousand Unsullied they would offer me. Eight thousand dead babes. Eight thousand strangled dogs." - Dany II ASOS

Warrior princess:

Val looked the part and rode as if she had been born on horseback. A warrior princess, he decided, not some willowy creature who sits up in a tower, brushing her hair and waiting for some knight to rescue her. - Jon XI ADWD

Dany mounted her silver. She could feel her heart thumping in her chest. She felt desperately afraid. Was this what my brother would have done? She wondered if Prince Rhaegar had been this anxious when he saw the Usurper's host formed up across the Trident with all their banners floating on the wind. She stood in her stirrups and raised the harpy's fingers above her head for all the Unsullied to see. "IT IS DONE!" she cried at the top of her lungs. "YOU ARE MINE!" She gave the mare her heels and galloped along the first rank, holding the fingers high. "YOU ARE THE DRAGON'S NOW! YOU'RE BOUGHT AND PAID FOR! IT IS DONE! IT IS DONE!" - Dany III ASOS

No one was calling her Daenerys the Conqueror yet, but perhaps they would. Aegon the Conqueror had won Westeros with three dragons, but she had taken Meereen with sewer rats and a wooden cock, in less than a day. - Dany VI ADWD

A coppersmith had fashioned her a suit of burnished rings to wear to war. She accepted it with fulsome thanks; it was lovely to behold, and all that burnished copper would flash prettily in the sun, though if actual battle threatened, she would sooner be clad in steel. Even a young girl who knew nothing of the ways of war knew that. - Dany I ADWD

Ten years ago I would have sensed what Daenerys meant to do. Ten years ago I would have been quick enough to stop her. Instead he had stood befuddled as she leapt into the pit, shouting her name, then running uselessly after her across the scarlet sands. - The Queensguard ADWD

Wildling/no southron lady:

"And yes, I will take your women too. I have no need of blushing maidens looking to be protected, but I will take as many spearwives as will come." - Jon V ADWD

The carcass was too heavy for him to bear back to his lair, so Drogon consumed his kill there, tearing at the charred flesh as the grasses burned around them, the air thick with drifting smoke and the smell of burnt horsehair. Dany, starved, slid off his back and ate with him, ripping chunks of smoking meat from the dead horse with bare, burned hands. In Meereen I was a queen in silk, nibbling on stuffed dates and honeyed lamb, she remembered. What would my noble husband think if he could see me now? Hizdahr would be horrified, no doubt. But Daario … Daario would laugh, carve off a hunk of horsemeat with his arakh, and squat down to eat beside her. - Dany XI ADWD

Shared pet plays!

Jon squatted to let the direwolf close his jaws around his wrist, tugging his hand back and forth. It was a game they played. But when he glanced up, he saw Ygritte watching with eyes as wide and white as hen's eggs. - Jon VI ACOK

Drogon looped his neck around to nip at her hand. His teeth were very sharp, but he never broke her skin when they played like this. Dany laughed, and rolled him back and forth until he roared, his tail lashing like a whip. It is longer than it was, she saw, and tomorrow it will be longer still. - Dany IV ASOS

Add more please!

[cassiusfen]

This isn't my art, (it's made by @ TheHearthFox over on Twitter) but I wanted to make a long post about why this work in particular speaks to me so goddamn much. I think such a massive part of the queer experience -- and also the furry experience -- is about the abstract. This can be seen in so many different aspects of furry "culture," from the concept of fursonas to kink and and other fetish content. You and I will never know what it's like to be a werewolf and transform under the full moon into the form of a big hulking furry beast. However, us furries create art and other works about the idea of it anyway. We never will be able to be our fursonas -- our often idealized and "perfect" versions of ourselves -- and part of that really hurts. It hurts so bad honestly, to the point where I can't quite put it into words. In terms of queer culture, I will never know what it is like to be a cis woman, and that also messes with me a lot. Yet, I'm still trans, my identity can change, I can perceive myself as whatever I damn well please. Identity allows you to shape yourself and the world around you in your own image, even if not everyone can see its beauty.

We have ways to get at least somewhat close to how we feel in our abstraction. VRChat allows you to make an avatar of what ever you want, whether it's your fursona or just an ideal version of you. Hell, it doesn't even have to be you, it could be anyone or anything really. We have a whole industry based around creating big ass costumes that allow people to at least look something like their desired character. But it's not enough. It's never enough. I ain't religious, but sometimes I feel like I've bitten the apple, been kicked out of the garden, and now I'm left to fend for myself with an identity that my physicality will never match. When I made my fursona using an avatar base in vrchat and configured it to match my real world body scales and looked down, I honestly started crying. I take the headset off, and I'm still me. Everyone takes the headset or fursuit off and they're still the body they were given, not what they would choose. Our reality is objective, and there's no way to really change that. We can act like animal people online all day, but the moment that screen shuts off, the moment we walk away, that warm, fuzzy feeling (hehe) fades.

To think abstract is to think beyond what you can normally sense. You will never get to brush the knots out of your fur in the morning, or play with your antennae while anxious (I see you bug people). We can still have those ideas, however. I know I'm on the third goddamn paragraph and I'm just now talking about the artwork I linked but this is an important concept to me. Usually, when I think of the abstract, it feels unreal, "fuzzy" so to speak. However, in HearthFox's piece, the objective reality appears out of focus and pixelated. It feels like even if we are unable to fully embrace the abstract, we can still embrace what we can of it, and bring some sort of color to a world that doesn't feel like it is made for us. The colors being outside of the lines could suggest that our abstract perception is maybe just "painted on" to the world around us, but is that a bad thing? Is it bad to take things in from the world around you, but still look at it all in your own unique way? I think not. This also isn't only about therian identity, or furry identity, or even queer identity -- it's also about neurodivergence. You are never in the wrong for thinking about the world in a way that is viewed as "non-standard" by the rest of the world. If you see yourself as a wolf, bee, fox, bear, raccoon, a fucking plane, it's not a bad thing. We can still identify however we want, and this modern way of looking at identity is the best way for us to embrace the abstract.

Go wild, go fucking stupid. Love yourself, if you're a fox, be a fox, there are ways you can feel that way, even if it's not all of the time. We can fight, we can love, we can still find ways to elation, even if sometimes existence itself feels wrong to you. This work is but one side of abstract thinking. Look at the color the fox has compared to the objective. Look how the fur drapes, how it runs down the body, or how the snout expresses emotion. Sometimes it feels melancholic, but you cannot tell me that trying your absolute damnedest to live your identity doesn't at least bring some color to your otherwise dreary and unfocused world.

Stay safe, love yourself no matter what.

[txttletale]

Do you have recs for combatless rpgs? sorry if someones asked this ! im getting into ttrpgs now and its just pretty hard to find anything non combat focused ?

i recommended wanderhome (melancholy animal roadtrip), dream askew (queer postapocalyptic survival), microscope (collaborative worldbuilding), and crescent moon (kids learning and growing in a fantasy land) in resposne to an ask earlier today. other great rpgs that aren't combat focused include:

chuubo's marvelous wish-granting engine: i'll level with you, if you're just getting into rpgs this one might be A Lot because it's quite mechanically complex. but it's a beautiful game about having ghibliesque coming-of-age adventures in a surreal dreamy world.

nobilis is by the same person (jenna moran, a genuine game design pioneer and genius) -- it's about being godlets, the living embodiments of concepts from the concrete to the abstract. you might find yourself fighting in this game, but it's unlikely to look anything like 'combat'.

brindlewood bay, which is about being elderly women investigating murders.

pasión de las pasiones, a pbta (powered by the apocalypse) game about doing ridiculous romance drama shit based on telenovelas

monsterhearts, about teenaged monsters having weird drama and exploring their sexuality. think buffy or twilight, but queerer

pigsmoke, about being professors at a college of magic and competing to see who can publish the best paper (yes, really)

the girlfriend of my girlfriend is my friend, about... i mean i think the title makes it pretty clear! being gay and poly and kinda broke

it's been a long, long, time, about two people who used to date, their relationship, their lives after it, and their reunion

sagas of the icelanders, about being viking settlers in iceland during the saga period and playing out quasimythical dramas

hieronymous, about being a bunch of sinners making your way across hieronymous bosch's garden of earthly delights

thousand year old vampire, a solo journalling game about being a vampire and living through long stretches of history

blow up hamlet, where your table performs hamlet while changing the plot and improvising new plot beats at semi-random

slugblaster, about being rowdy teens hoverboarding through interdimensional rifts in the spirit of 90s teen movies

woo! that's a fuckin' lot of ttrpgs, but i wanted to give a lot of suggestions because i think it's so important for people getting into the hobby to understand the breadth of games out there and how far from the popular image created by D&D they can go! there are two-player and GM-less and even one-player games on this list. you can do anything! the world of rpgs is so fucking wide and beautiful. good luck and i hope you find something that speaks to you!

(oh, also, my game, most trusted advisors -- about being the untrustworthy privy council to a dipshit king and falling over each other's nested dipshit schemes -- has no combat in it. just saying!)

[tswhiisftteedr]

ANYTHING Lute x Reader, i just need to see more of this perfect gal whose had like 3 minutes total of screentime

Girls ☆ One Shot

☆ Lute x Human Soul!Fem!Reader:

After having met you on your first day in heaven, your life and lute’s would change for the better as you had found your other half despite your original predicaments.

Words: 4228

Warnings: Mature Content, Explicit/Graphic Language, Honestly Nothing Kinky, It’s just plain girl on girl smut. Homophobia. Lute might be ooc. NOT PROOFREAD.

Notes: Okay right off the bat, some bullshit logic about angels being able to tell if someone is queer, also lute is gay but has some major internalized homophobia so for a good chunk of this she’s rude to the reader just because they’re gay.

☆ more under the cut. ☆

Frankly, the scenario felt weird, especially given the fact that both of you were, well, 'you.'

From a logical standpoint, it didn't add up, not in the slightest. However, in the grand scheme of things, ‘does love really need to make sense?’

The response to that question was unquestionably, no, when observing your relationship with Lute.

It all began when your seemingly stable life abruptly crumbled. While crossing the street, mind you, at a red light, fate took a dark turn as a truck with faulty brakes struck you, ending your life on the spot.

There was no reincarnation into another world after this encounter with truck-kun; you were flat out dead.

In the blink of an eye, you found yourself standing before the gates of Heaven, where Saint Peter meticulously inspected his book, akin to the VIP list of an exclusive nightclub – or so it seemed.

However, instead of the typical club scene with artificial lights, drugs, unpleasant odours, drunk individuals, and a sense of desperation, you were enveloped in a heavenly realm. Fluffy clouds, savoury food, sweet fragrances, joyful company, and an overwhelming sense of acceptance surrounded you.

This was truly paradise, and you were relieved that your life wasn't too problematic. After being shown your potential residence—a beautiful house with a spacious garden—and touring 'Heaven city' with a friendly Angel couple, you enjoyed exploring your surroundings.

However, the perfection took a turn when you accidentally encountered the first unfriendly 'individual' in Heaven.

"Watch it," the woman with white hair warned you, and after scanning you from head to toe (much like her golden-winged companion), she remarked, "I guess they really let anybody in these days, even people like you."

With those words, she walked away accompanied by the non-human-looking 'man,' which seemed to be the norm in this place. However, you couldn't shake off the unease caused by her reference to 'people like you.'

Soon, you discovered the meaning behind her comment. Apparently, angels here could distinguish between cis-straight and queer individuals.

The reason of ‘why?’ remained unknown to you, but what became clear was that, in her opinion, you didn't deserve Heaven—not based on your actions but solely due to your sexuality, ‘and that pissed you off.’

You had planned to confront her the next time your paths crossed, and that moment arrived three months later, long after you had moved on from the incident;

Now, you were patiently waiting in line to sample drinks at the recently opened smoothie bar. The atmosphere was serene and heavenly, as expected.

Just as it was about to be your turn to order, you were rudely jolted by the announcement, "Move it, bitches, Adam’s in the houuuse."

You found yourself pushed aside, forced to witness the obnoxious Angel now placing his order.

Midway through his order “Pineapple smoothie with extra pineapple, tapioca, grass jelly, make it an extra-large with extra sugar, then she’ll have-“ it suddenly dawned on you that he was the guy with the white-haired companion from last time. Before you could fully process it, you turned around to find the white-haired woman right beside you.

Upon noticing you, she shot a disgusted glare and 'tsk' your way. Frustrated, you thought, 'That rude bitch- Not only did she cut in line, but she also gave you a look like you were a turd on the incredibly clean streets of heaven!'

This time, you were determined to speak your mind to her;

"Whats your problem?" you question her with frustration evident in your tone.

"Excuse me?" she retorts, disdain dripping from her voice.

"I'm asking, what's your issue with me? Our first encounter, you flat out implied I didn't belong in heaven. Seriously, for what, for being gay? Firstly, that's bullshit because my worth as a person shouldn't be based on my sexuality. Secondly, it's just plain homophobic. Isn't heaven supposed to be all about accepting thy neighbour? So instead of treating me like I'm beneath you, how about an apology for our last interaction, Miss off-brand Kanade?" You lay it all out, determined not to let her disrespect slide this time. She was to blame before, but allowing it again would be on you, ‘and that wasn't going to happen.’

"Oooooh, cat fight!" remarked the golden-winged Angel, treating your dispute as some form of entertainment. Also 'cat fight', was he fucking serious?! That term left you thinking, 'misogynistic asshole!' in response to his words.

"Do you even know who you're speaking to?" the woman questioned, exuding a sense of superiority.

"Yeah, tear that bitch a new on, Lute!" the golden-winged Angel chimed in.

"I don't 'lute,' and if you were truly that significant, I would’ve. But it sure as hell doesn't seem to be the case!" you retorted with a touch of spite, placing extra emphasis on her name.

The shop as a hole gasped at the mention of the ‘H word’.

"I’ll have you on that I hold the title of Lieutenant of— in the Heavenly Army. And as one of God's warriors, I deserve respect from someone of your, let's say, slightly above dreadful mortal soul status," she declares, almost slipping up and inadvertently revealing the existence of exterminators.

"Sure thing, 'heaven warrior.' Firstly, when did we ever need an angel like you? It's been peaceful here. Secondly, I couldn't help but notice that slip-up. I don't know your real occupation, probably still military judging by your mannerisms, but certainly not some simple member of this 'heaven’s army,'" you respond, now sure that she's concealing her true job from most of Heaven's population.

"You insolent, miserable, lower life form! Consider yourself fortunate that your meager good deeds in your pathetic human life landed you here. Otherwise, I would have had the pleasure to—" she began, but was abruptly interrupted by her 'companion' or perhaps 'boss.' "Chill out, danger tits," he calmly stated in a tone vastly different from his earlier goofiness. The shift in his demeanor was genuinely unsettling.

And her attitude swiftly transformed; she composed herself and turned to face him. "I apologize, Adam, sir. I allowed my emotions to take over and stepped out of line," she said, directing her apology not to you but to her boss.

With that, the two individuals departed, leaving you to independently apologize to your fellow angels for the disturbance.

Was that the final occasion you heard or saw them? No, because not even a month later, here you were;

Another fun aspect of heaven was its schools, designed for souls who aspired to study on Earth but lacked the opportunity or had their lives cut too short to complete their educations.

Another facet of this scenario allowed the souls of teachers or individuals aspiring to aid in unfulfilled dreams to volunteer for assisting with the children's education.

That's why you found yourself present today, supporting Miss Asiimwe with her fourth-grade anglophone class during a spelling bee. Just as the classroom door swung open, an unmistakably loud and obnoxious voice rang out, "What up turds, big bro Adam's in the house!"

Your day took a turn from a wholesome one contributing to kids' education to a shitty one, because if that ‘pompous jerk Adam was here, she sure would also be—‘ "Oh, it's you again," Lute remarks to you, her voice less harsh than the last encounter but still carrying a hint of bitterness.

Truly, ‘It was a waste for her to be so beautiful with that kind of attitude’. Despite her rude remarks about your sexual orientation, you may or may not find her attractive—perhaps not the wisest choice, and you were aware of such. But hey, after all, dominatrix existed, and they get paid handsomely to insult people. So, ‘is it really that unconventional to be into her?’

Yes, it very much so was. However, before having the chance to delve into those thoughts, Lute abruptly snapped her fingers right in front of your face to divert your attention.

"What are you doing here?! And a quit staring at me like that!" she demanded, replacing her fingers with her face, now uncomfortably close, and you could feel her breath on your face.

"Um, well— I'm assisting this classroom's teacher, something I've been doing since week one in heaven, so you're not kicking me out," you replied with a defensive tone, slightly taken aback by her question but drawing from your previous interactions.

"I never claimed I would, chill out, mortal soul. You shouldn't project the stress of your inadequacy as an inferior being into this classroom's atmosphere. Stress spreads easily, and you wouldn't want it affecting the children," she declares with authority, though her tone and gaze had some gentleness in it.

Truth be told, she might have found herself drawn to you. It was a difficult pill to swallow, given her blatant homophobia and the fact she found the thought of ‘her’ being attracted to a woman absolutely absurd.

Upon initially glimpsing your figure and sensing a certain fire within her, her instinctive response was to be rude to you.

"You mentioned you've been assisting here since your first week. How frequently do you come by?" she inquires, attempting to initiate casual conversations with you. By now, she had acknowledged that you weren't to blame for her attraction. While you might be the source, her draw toward women wasn't dependent on whether she found you hot or not.

"Well, I try to stop by at least twice a week. I believe having familiar faces during learning helps children feel safer and more supported," you admitted, surprised that she's engaging in small talk.

"I completely agree. Having a trusted adult present during learning builds a strong foundation for children's education, especially for the younger ones," she adds, gazing ahead at the classroom where the children have transitioned from spelling to playing with Adam.

"Leave it to the man-child to get along with kids," you joke to yourself, watching how effortlessly Adam bonds with the children. They're engrossed in a game involving knights and kings, with Adam, of course, playing the role of the king.

To your surprise, Lute chuckles at your remark before quickly composing herself. "Well, he is the father of humanity," she states, a faint smile appearing at the corner of her lips.

"I guess I can't argue with facts," you reply, your own face lighting up with a smile at the sight of the joyful children.

After that day, your meetings with Lute became a regular occurrence. Whether it was the joyful atmosphere of children immersed in learning or something else, she grew quite friendly with you over the course of two months. Your interactions even extended beyond the school, evolving into outings to cafes and amusement parks.

Today was one of Lute's off-duty days. You weren't exactly sure why heaven required an army, but you refrained from probing too much, especially during your hangouts, which were focused on enjoying each other's company rather than discussing work.

Currently, you were at CheeLand, the largest amusement park in all of heaven, offering rides for both the faint-hearted and adrenaline junkies alike.

You leaned towards the gentler side when it came to this type of amusement, while Lute embraced the thrill. That's why you found yourself anxiously gripping your seat’s restrains as the cart ascended the rails, anticipating the impending drop.

Your white-haired friend had successfully egged you on, convincing you to join her on the ride. Despite calming yourself in line, once the ride began, all your anxiety rushed back;

Lute, growing excited as the carts continued to climb up, remarked, "This is going to be so fucking fun! Can't believe you were such a baby about it in line." Her teasing tone shifted as she noticed your terrified expression.

Softening, she grabbed your hand and reassured you, "Listen, you'll be alright. The rides are completely safe and secure. Plus, I'm here with you." Her last sentence was emphasized by a comforting squeeze of your hand, prompting you to turn and look at her. "And worst case scenario, you're already dead, so there's nothing to be truly afraid of," she joked, easing the tension slightly.

But then came her next words, reigniting panic. "Okay, get ready, we're almost there." Glancing forward, you realized, "Oh, shit." She was right, and in an instant, the drop arrived. Both of you screamed at the top of your lungs throughout the entire ride…

You emerged from the ride, your head still a bit foggy and your voice hoarse from screaming, with Lute holding your hand.

As you both walk towards a nearby bench for a moment of composure, she remarks, "See, wasn't so bad."

"The fuck it wasn't!" you retort. Just as she's about to tease you for your reaction, you abruptly pull her into a tight hug in a serge of emotions. "But thanks for being with me. I doubt I could have even mustered the courage to join the ride lineup if you weren't here. I'm really grateful you're with me," you whisper softly.

She was startled by the contact, causing her to freeze momentarily. Although her initial instinct was to pull away due to nervousness, she recognized this as a vulnerable moment for you. Awkwardly, she hugged you back and gradually melted into the embrace.

After 5 minutes, the reality of the position hit her, and nerves kicked in. "You're welcome, now get off me, you weirdo," she insists, pulling away from the hug. However, all you can do is smile at her. Despite her attempt to maintain a front, she can't help but crack a smile too. 'She actually enjoyed how close you just were,' but that was something she kept to herself.

At some point in time, you had even overheard her referring to you as her friend to her boss, Adam, who questioned her sudden shift from his side to yours. Her face turned beet red as she defended you—a sight you wouldn't have expected from her at all.

However, that flushed look she harbored became increasingly frequent over time. You had become accustomed to her mannerisms and the way she expressed emotions, often lashing out due to difficulty in self-expression.

You had grown familiar with what brought a smile to her face, what upset her, and especially what left her flustered. By then, you had realized she liked you based on her behaviours, yet it seemed she hadn't recognized the romantic nature of her feelings.

Aware of her confusion, especially considering her upbringing and training, you knew the absence of romance in her education left her clueless about such emotions. Despite this, you chose to let her navigate these feelings on her own. It wasn't your place to impose that you were better aware of her own emotions than she was.

Yet, you played a role in guiding her toward this realization by incorporating more physical gestures, of course, always within her comfort boundaries: holding her hand more often, offering more frequent hugs, ensuring there was some form of touch between you two.

A common occurrence was when you walked together, either with your arm around her or your pinkies linked.

Her flushed face became so habitual that seeing her without it seemed unusual; the red tint became her typical expression when spending time with you.

Take, for instance, that day when you visited the newly opened restaurant on 'Holy Avenue.';

Opting for a Caesar salad, Lute aimed to play it safe in case the other offered dish didn't appeal to her taste. However, as she munched on her food, her gaze kept wandering to your dish, which seemed quite appetizing.

She attempted to deny her desire for a bite, but after spending so much time together, you had become adept at reading her emotions.

Acknowledging her unspoken request, you picked up a small portion with your fork, gesturing for her to join in. Initially embarrassed, she hesitated to refuse, but a single pleading look and she relented.

Her face flushed from the intimate gesture, the question of ‘why was she getting so worked up over your friendly act’ lingered in her mind as she finally took the bite-size food portion. The fact that she found you visually pleasing wasn't the answer she sought. Her feelings were deeper than mere physical attraction.

This realization was further confirmed as she spent the entire night unable to sleep, her mind consumed by thoughts of your hangout and the fact that you had fed her.

Tossing and turning, she found herself questioning the nature of your relationship: were you friends? Yes, that was obvious. Were you a couple? No, definitely not. Did she want you to be more than friends, an item perhaps? "Uuh, fuck," she groaned into her pillow as the realization hit her that she had developed feelings for you.

By now, it seemed like everyone and their mothers were aware of Lute's feelings, evident in her actions toward you. Not only had she begun reciprocating your physical advances, but she also initiated some herself.

Whether it was greeting you with a warm hug after a week apart, including you in her imposed outings with Adam, or playfully wrapping an arm around your waist during these occasions, her actions spoke volumes.

She'd whisper sweet jabs about her boss into your ear, leading to fits of laughter. Adam, in response, would roll his eyes at your intimate gestures, teasing Lute for being too obvious about her affection.

Despite her embarrassment and denials of any romantic feelings, you knew better than to take those at face value.

Yet besides the deep connection you shared, she struggled to express her feelings toward you. Accepting that she liked you had already been a significant challenge. Therefore, the idea of asking you out was currently off the table.

She needed to communicate her sentiments without uttering a word, and that's where today came into play—Valentine's Day.

Lute had dedicated the entire previous day and night to baking the perfect sweet, chocolaty treat for you. Not being accustomed to baking, she faced numerous trials and errors before getting it just right. Now, the moment had arrived for her to present these treats to you.

Having texted you to meet her at 'Wings Caffe' around 10, she patiently occupied a table since 9:30 a.m. following your confirmation text.

Initially, her plan was to simply hand you the chocolate, letting you make assumptions and agreeing when you eventually concluded that she liked you. However, things didn't go as planned, and nerves took over;

"Aww, that's so sweet, Lute. Thank you, really. I didn't get anything today, since y’a know, single as a Pringle," you remarked, pointing to yourself. "These chocolates mean a lot. By the way, they look fantastic. Where did you get them? I'd love to buy more for a snack," you inquired, holding the heart-shaped box.

"Made them," she mumbled, visibly embarrassed by your compliments.

"Really? Wow, I didn't know you baked. Maybe I'll come over to your place more often and have you whip something up for me," you begin. The implication of spending more time together tugs at Lute's chest, but your last sentence hits her hard. "I'm so grateful to have a friend who's skilled at baking and willing to make me things," you say as you start munching on the treats.

'Friends'—that's right, nothing more. It appears she couldn't rely on the heart-shaped box or the chocolate with words of affirmation in pink sprinkles to convey her feelings. If she desired more than friendship, she would have to be honest about her feelings this time.

However, true to her defensive nature, instead of clarifying the true reason behind giving chocolate on the day of love, she merely went along with your characterization of it as a friendly gesture.

"Yeah, I guess you're lucky to have a friend like me, someone so good at everything," she boasted, her voice proud, yet her expression betraying a hint of sadness.

Noticing the inconsistency, you set the box down on the table to free your hands and gently took hers. Meeting her gaze directly, you squeezed her hands for reassurance. "I wanted to let you work things out at your own pace, but we're not making any progress," you began, and she looked at you wide-eyed.

"I like you, Lute, and I know you like me too," you stated frankly. Before she could employ her defense mechanism, you added, "I'm not saying we have to start dating right away. I understand if you're not ready for that. But please keep in mind, as long as you don't outright reject me, I'll keep trying to pursue a relationship with you."

Upon hearing those words, Lute sensed the release of all the built-up stress and fear of rejection.

A newfound confidence surged within her, making her bold enough to grab your face and plant a bold kiss in plain sight for everyone at the café to witness. "Fuck yes, I'll be your girlfriend," she declared as she pulled away.

With a simple "Now, let's get out of here," the two of you stood up from your seats, leaving the café behind as her apartment became your new destination.

Upon reaching her place, things escalated rapidly—like, really rapidly. Mere seconds after stepping through the door, she was all over you.

Passionate kisses, hands exploring every inch of your body, fingers grabbing at whatever they could find. Nails scratching and digging, teeth occasionally biting at your skin when her mouth left yours.

Given the speed with which she undressed you, it seemed like she had envisioned this scenario for quite some time.

Before you knew it, you were lying on her bed, completely devoid of clothing, and that's when she began to work her magic;

Squirming within her grasp, she held your thighs down while eating you out. Breathless, you questioned, "I thought you were a homophobe before we met. How are you so good at this??" The overwhelming sensation of her tongue left you in awe.

You can practically feel her grin against your lips as she responds, "Yep, I was. But after developing a crush on you, I did my homework. Figured it be useful at one point or another. Though, ‘didn't think I'd be that good on my first actual trial.”

"Please don’t stop" you croak out between pants.

“Don’t worry, I won’t." she promised, increasing her rhythm and pressure.

As she continued to please you, you couldn't help but wonder what changed in her. This was way different from her usual flustered self. ‘Was it the time spent together? Or maybe the touch? The combination of both?’

Regardless, you decided to focus solely on the present moment, losing yourself in the sensations coursing through your body. Lute showed no signs of slowing down, proving her dedication to satisfying you.

Eventually, you reached climax, shouting her name as you finally released, your wings fluttered and your essence coated her tongue. Her response? She swallowed it down greedily, moaning around your pussy. When you finally fell back onto the bed, panting heavily, she climbed up beside you, her breasts pressing against your chest.

"That was... intense," you managed to utter between breaths.

"Glad you enjoyed it," she whispered, nibbling on your earlobe.

As you settled down together, Lute traced gentle circles on your stomach before trailing her fingers along your inner thighs. Her thumb brushed against your sensitive folds again, teasingly circling your tight entrance. "Do you want more?" she asked softly, her voice husky with desire.

You nodded weakly, unable to speak coherently yet.

Without further delay, Lute positioned herself between your spread legs again, positioning her own pussy just inches away from where she had been earlier. Lowering herself slowly, she began to rub your clits together, creating a new wave of pleasure that reverberated throughout both of them.

With each thrust of her hips, she increased the pace until you were moving in sync, your moans growing louder as you neared another orgasmic peak.

Your bodies intertwined, united in shared ecstasy, leaving neither wanting nor regretting your decision to explore the concept of a sexual relationship together.

Lute's hands grabbed onto your hips, holding you steady as she picked up speed, driving them both closer to climax. Your nails dug into her shoulders, leaving shallow crescent marks in the soft flesh; evidence of your shared intensity.

You could feel the familiar buildup starting again, your entire body tensing up in anticipation. With one final powerful thrust, Lute groaned loudly, her orgasm crashing over both of you like waves crashing onto shore. In response, you let out a high-pitched cry, joining her in blissful release.

Breathing heavily, you stayed in the same position for several moments longer than necessary, savouring the afterglow of your passionate union.

Eventually, you separated, both panting heavily. Lute rolled off of you, lying next to you on the bed, her chest heaving rapidly.

"That was... incredible," she panted out, reaching over to grab a nearby water bottle and handing it to you.

"Yeah, it was... Although I have to admit, having sex on the first day of making it official is pretty needy," you playfully tease her.

"Oh, shut up," she retorts before planting a kiss on your lips once you've swallowed your sip of water.

This relationship was going to be wilder than what you had anticipated…

Thanks anon for requesting!

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Tag list for Lute: @sunflower-lilly @charlott30045 (I still used your request because it was one that fit with what I had already received)

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[shousetsubangbang]

Shousetsu Bang*Bang: Distracting You With Happy Endings Since 2005!

Sure, our whole zine focuses on smutty queer romance with a happily-ever-after aesthetic. But we asked our Discord which stories are especially warm and particularly fuzzy. Here's a list of the recommendations they gave, just in case you need something like that in your life right now, for whatever reason.

Arame Cove: Stardew Valley yaoi

c:\rano.bergerac: the Mechanical Turk, but make it sexy

Cheesecake and the Art of Political Warfare: the electoral college… IN SPACE!

Corvus, Cancer, And Other Constellations: friends don't let friends go through cancer treatments without smutfic

El Presidio Rides North: hurt/comfort while escaping zombies

A Fish Story, OR, The Ones That Got Away, OR, The Mermaid Solution: pretty much what the title implies

Moonstricken: knife-throwing, paperwork, chains, and other unorthodox ways to (not) approach your crush

Busted: same as above, but with 100% less werewolves and 100% more explosions

oh Charlie Harper we love you get up: everyone knows elocution lessons are very sexy

Out in the Wash: and you thought your laundry mix-ups were incriminating

Sid Stills’ Blues (Three-Quarters in the Bag in Alphabet City): aging musician falls in love, does not die of cancer

Up the Garden Path: D&D&D (Dungeons & Dragons & Dicks)

War Bonds: just two gals bein' pals while the men are off fighting in WWII

And of course if you're looking for something even more specific, we have https://www.s2b2search.com/ to help you navigate our enormous back catalog. You can search all 1200+ pieces in our archives by issue, by author, by artist, by tagged content, or by some combination of the above. Enjoy!