#texts from delta green

[chromatophorium]

I finished making new gear for a hypothetical Agent 4 storymode!

(Text on the back of the hypothetical box): As the head of security of Project Memverse, Agent 4 has been tasked to track down the Octolings still on the loose in the Deepsea Metro! Together with a recently reformed C.Q. Cumber, they will have to explore behind the scenes of Kamabo Co. to find and secure the victims of sanitization!

Using the Caught Shot, Agent 4 will have to subdue the Octolings that are still under Tartar's hostile programing! After that, they will have to transport their quarry to the goal using Containment Tank! Said goal is the Memverse entry room, housed in a modified train car. The SeaCURE.ity gear set will help them stand up against the immense pressure; both of the responsibility on their shoulders and the offensive launched against them by what remains of Kamabo Co! And of course the literal pressure, as they travel deeper and deeper into unknown waters...

(design notes under the cut)

C.Q. Cumber: The last two story modes have had a companion I thought it would be cool to use C.Q. Cumber! (Did you know it’s not just one individual?) C.Q. is one of the only characters with dialogue not to return in Splatoon 3, and he looks throwable! So, l would maybe make him be a portable bounce-pad, who returns to you when you jump on him. You could also make him the thing used for Broken-Armor Jump, if that’s a mechanic you’d want to return. He is wearing the hat from a plush zapfish!

Containment Tank: Based on a coffee machine, since the Spawners in Splatoon 3 are based on expresso machines! The jug that contains the octoling “ghost” is also based on a snow globe, since Octavio was contained by one in Splatoon 1 and 2!

Caught Shot: Based on a retro coffee grinder, to fit in with the tank’s theme! (Like the Splatoon 3 Hero Shot was based on a 3D printer (the fully upgraded one has a filament reel) and there were 3D printed monuments in Alterna.) The name is a play on their task, catching octolings, and hotshot, since Agent 4 is rumored to be the strongest in the squidbreak splatoon, and it's apparently also the name of an alcoholic coffee drink (I don't drink coffee or alchohol, so I didn't know that). Also following the naming convention of single-player shooters; Hero Shot, Octo Shot and Order Shot.

Earmuggs: Did you know the handles of mugs are called ears? Now you do! I included a cup-handle motif by the ears, and the springy thing is inspired by the edge of coffee presses.

Baristanorak: This is based of a coffee barista look, with an apron! The reflectors on the green part is meant to mimic the straps. I also kept the collar the same as Agent 4's canon outfit, since I think it's a big part of why I like their design. The wrist sweatbands are there to tie into the texture of the socks, and cuz I thought It gives the outfit a more recognizable silhouette.

Step-it-cups: They're actually just Luminous Delta Straps with the branding removed, don't tell anyone! Well, I guess it is keeping in tradition, since Agent 4's canon jacket is super similar to the Olive Ski Jacket, which was present in Splat 1 (and my favorite gear in that game).

[wrathofrats]

@iamthecomet omg heyyyyy guess what

Cw: death, grief, bad uses of magic, descriptions of gore, descriptions of a corpse, probably corpse abuse ngl, angst, hurt no comfort? He’s hurt and there’s 0 comfort.

Absolutely distraught with grief omega rummaging through old dusty books that are falling apart at the seams after being stored improperly and not touched for years. Decades of old magic that was hidden away by the clergy decades before omega was summoned, more than likely hoping to never be seen again as it was considered experimental and dangerous.

Old text and journals of magic users doing weird experiments in the morgues late at night. It’s almost too tempting, in omegas mind the worst that could happen is that he would kill himself along side Terzo, a fate that he hadn’t not already considered.

He sneaks down into the morgue late after he watched delta leave. Terzo was already sewn back up, his head held on with sturdy thread and delicate stitch. The makeup was already set out for the next day, paints and waxes to cover his sickly grey skin and jarring suture marks. It was bitter sweet, the knowledge that delta had taken on the burden of making his own papa look alive again so no one else would have to. He would do a good job, omega was sure of it.

Omega brushed his hand along terzos cold skin as if he were comforting him before he began.

Purple sparks flowed through his fingers. Dancing over terzos forehead and heart. Omega traced the stitches from his autopsy, trying to connect the skin once again before trying to truly bring him back to life. Ugly, raised white lines of strings of flesh covered each line of thread, the markings staying prevalent along his chest and stomach but being stronger than they would have been before

Terzos fingers twitched with the electricity and magic. Omega used all of the energy he could muster, fluttering his heart and pumping blood back through his veins. The once lifeless and sickly lines running down his arms now becoming purple and spreading pink warmth through his extremities. Certainly not as lively as he once was but it was better than the putrid green grey wash of his decaying body.

Omega put both of his hands on terzos head and flooded his brain with his magic. Terzos eyelids twitched, torso starting to try and rise with every wave of quintessence.

He finally rose, eyes open even with the deadly white cast over them. He was *alive*, somewhat at least.

Omega cried out, collapsing to his knees beside the metal table. He took terzos hand in his and pleaded to look at him, try to speak, anything to show omega that he was *omegas* still.

Terzo blinked. He stretched his fingers and turned his head from side to side. He watched as omega sobbed in a heap on the floor below him with a blank stare.

It wasn’t right. He was alive, most definitely, but it was omegas Terzo. Simply mannequin of flesh and rotten blood filled with preservatives. He didn’t look at omega with the same love and adoration, he was sure if he had any sense of consciousness to him he would’ve collapsed with omega to thank and comfort him.

But he didn’t. He sat, and watched. Practically a monster instead of a human. An abomination.

He couldn’t stay like this, it was inhumane. Omega tried not to wail as he grabbed some of the tools left out by delta. Ready to undo the magic he had done, almost no better than terzos killers themselves.

[iaminyourbones]

Hello everyone!

My name is Alastor, but I also go by Atlas or Alice

I will mostly refer to myself as Atlas

I have a bunch of other active blogs

@firemaniac-pyro which is a Pyro ask blog (Tf2)

@tf2-blu-ghosty Which is my blu tf2 oc

@tf2-green-ghosty Which is my grn tf2 oc

@tf2-red-ghosty which is my red tf2 oc

@green-scout-tf2 which is the og silly colored Scout

And

@meet-the-stealthbomber-tf2 which is another red team tf2 oc

As well as

@caine-the-ringleader which is a Caine ask blog (Tadc) (which is retired)

I also have @shitty-short-stories-anonymous to post my random writing stuff on

And

@i-am-inside-your-bones as a kinda spam blog

(That’s the text I use(d) for each account)

This is completely going to be ranting

Mostly about tf2

I might post art here sometimes but I’m honestly pretty shit at drawing

Also I swear a lot so I apologize in advance

Pfp matches with @the-depressed-comedic-relief!!!

Tags:

Basically any post- #Atlas time

Answering asks- #Atlas has answers

Talking about random shit- #Atlas has rambled

Reblogs- #Atlas reblog wow

Rebloging my moots- #Atlas harasses his Friends

Interacting with moots- #Atlas has frens

My dearest @the-depressed-comedic-relief- #Atlas’ angel

Interacting with or talking about irl friends- #Atlas irl frens

Vent or talking about mental illness- #Atlas is not good

Hyperfixations- #Atlas has obsessions

Talents/hobbies- #Atlas has a little talent

Art- #Atlas draws sometimes

Writing- #Atlas writes sometimes

Edited images- #Atlas made another silly image

Talking about OCs- #Atlas made a silly character

Scout <3- #Atlas loves Scout tf2

Sniper <3- #Atlas loves Sniper tf2

Speedingbullet specifically- #Atlas ships himself with speedingbullet

Goodnight posts- #Atlas goodnight

Coming back from school or waking up or something- #Atlas has returned

Ranting about military aircrafts [One of my special interests]- #Atlas rants about planes

I think that’s it idk

JOIN MY DISCORD SERVER

^@\the-depressed-comic-relief

Psst more under cut

The official unofficial tf2 simps™️

Scout- >Me< @absolutelyzoned @the-depressed-comedic-relief @blu-m3l0n @kapoosh

Soldier- @darkcloudsatnight

Pyro- @lampinspectingmoth

Demoman- @lyrics-symphony @sp1der-pngisnotavailable @scoutisthebomb @r4cc0on-in-tr4shcan

Heavy- @another-delta-lover [rip🕊️🥀] @gorydreamer

Engineer- @tyrianludaship @stolenrocket218 @tavernofdragons @theweirdo-ontheblock @r4cc0on-in-tr4shcan

Medic- @scouts-cosplays @scozthewoz @medicsboywife @tavernofdragons @gorydreamer

Spy- @brokensenseofhumor

Sniper- >Me< @roseworkshop @typical-ukraine @alternate-okameeznuts @ranger-la-criatura @tavernofdragons @r4cc0on-in-tr4shcan

Mrs. Pauling- @ilovegayvampires

Scouts mom- @ilovegayvampires

Zhanna- @lampinspectingmoth

Saxton Hale- @lampinspectingmoth

The list can be updated at any time. If you wish to be added or removed just request and I will get to you as soon as I can

I can also add other characters don’t worry

:]

[greymoonfeelings]

Goddamn, Man-child

you fucked me so good that I almost said “I love you”

Pairing: Frat boy! Jake Seresin x Fem! Reader

Summary: Your Friday night doesn’t go exactly as planned, but what can you expect when you’ve fallen for a fuckboy?

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: toxic fuckboy Jake, alcohol consumption, dirty dancing, jealousy, degrading names, oral (m receiving)/facefucking, unprotected PinV and creampie.

thanks to @green-socks for editing help!

•••

When you first started college three years ago, you had no interest in partying. Your top priority was getting good grades, not spending your weekends hunched over a dirty toilet seat. For three years it stayed that way. It wasn’t until your final year that you finally indulged in the partying and that was for one reason only: Jake Seresin, the president of the biggest fraternity on campus.

The first time you met Jake was two months ago when your friends dragged you to Gamma Delta Chi’s Halloween party. Apparently, he has a thing for sexy pirates because you hooked up that night. What had started as a drunk mistake turned into somewhat of a ritual for the two of you. Jake is by no means the “nice guy” you were hoping to meet when you started college, but he’s charming and gorgeous and he knows how to please a woman which is more than you can say for most guys his age.

After a long and stressful week, it's finally Friday night. Jake sent you a text Wednesday night saying he missed you, accompanied by a foggy mirror picture post-shower. You nearly ran over to his house right then but you knew you had an 8 am class the next morning. However, you planned on making up for it tonight.

When you first walk through the front door of the house, you’re hit by the overwhelming stench of weed and cheap cologne. As you push through the sea of bodies on the way to the kitchen, your eyes subtly scan the house for Jake. He’s usually easy to spot. He’s tall with a mess of blond hair and likely to be surrounded by a few girls or freshman boys who worship him like some sort of god.

You finally locate him when you make it to the kitchen island that’s lined with an array of alcohol. In the corner of the connected dining room, directly in your line of vision, stands Jake. He’s pressed up against some redhead, talking intimately. From the smile that breaks out on her face, it’s apparent that he’s flirting with her.

The sound of her giggling turns your stomach. Your grip on a beer bottle starts to slip as your palms grow sweaty and your heart hammers in your ribcage. You exchange the beer for something stronger, quickly screwing the top off so you can chug straight from the bottle.

No matter how much you drink, your mouth still feels like it’s full of cotton. The scene playing out before you is nothing new. Jake is notorious for flirting with any girl who crosses his path. You’re not officially his girlfriend, but that doesn’t stop it from hurting.

You exit the kitchen with the bottle of vodka tucked under your arm in search of your friends. If you can distract yourself for an hour or two, you’re sure Jake will eventually seek you out.

As the night progresses, Jake and his new friend stay attached at the hip. Jake hasn't looked at you once despite your circle of friends standing only a few feet away. Eventually, he brings her over to the pool table and starts to teach her how to play, the same thing he did with you and likely all his potential hookups.

How could you be so stupid as to fall for that and think that you were somehow special? You knew what kind of a man he was, a horny 22-year-old frat boy who prided himself on being a womanizer, but somehow, you convinced yourself he was different.

Deciding to leave and stop attending these parties completely would be the smart thing to do, but at this point, you’ve consumed too much alcohol to be making any rational decisions. Right now you need something to make you forget about Jake. Or someone…

That distraction comes in the form of a rowdy frat boy who bumps into you as he high-fives his friend that’s in your circle. You recognize the guy as Bradley Bradshaw. The two of you shared a few classes over the years and he’s always been nice to you unlike some of his frat brothers. He’s attractive, athletic, and gets good grades. You could do a lot worse.

“Hey, Bradley!” You throw your arm around his shoulder, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

“What’s up?” He greets you with a squeeze on the hip.

“Let’s dance!” Without a second thought, you grab the brunette’s arm and drag him toward the horde of dancing couples. He doesn’t question you, instead falling quickly into place with his hands on your hips as they sway to the beat of whatever song is shaking the house at its foundation.

As you dance, you put all your energy into forgetting about Jake. You get lost in the music and the feeling of Bradley’s body pressed against yours. The alcohol coursing through your veins helps and for a few minutes, the distraction works. That is until you catch Jake staring at you from across the living room.

He watches the way you move to the music along with the man pressed up against your back. The sight of someone else feeling you up causes his body to tense up and his grip on his beer bottle tightens, squeezing it the way he wishes he could to Bradley’s neck.

You smirk proudly at Jake ignoring the oblivious girl in favor of glaring at you and your dance partner, obviously jealous. This was not your original intention, but Jake deserves a taste of his own medicine.

You keep your eyes locked with his as you begin to grind your ass harder against Bradley’s front. One of Bradley’s hands snakes around your waist to pull you flush against his chest. He presses his mouth into your neck, warm breath fanning the exposed skin.

Jake stands there seething until he can’t take it anymore. His reserve finally breaks when you grab Bradley’s neck and turn to smash your lips together. When Bradley tries to slip his tongue into your mouth, you decide it’s time to pull away, but before you can, he’s being pulled off of you.

Everything is a blur as Jake grabs your waist, pulling you through the crowded house past other couples and into the first-floor bathroom. The door slams behind him with a resounding thud.

“What the hell are you doing with Bradshaw?”

“We were dancing!”

“His dick was pressed against your ass!” Jake is now mere inches from your face and you can’t help but think that he still looks hot even when he’s angry. His beautiful green eyes darkened, nostrils flared and that prominent vein popping out of his neck. God, you wish you could bite it.

Fuck. You remind yourself why you’re furious with him in the first place.

“Fuck you!” You push him away. “Why don’t you go back out to Strawberry Short–”

Before you get the chance to finish, Jake is all over you like a cheap suit. He captures your lips in a heated kiss that sends you stumbling backward. You bump into the wall just as he slips his tongue into your mouth.

Part of you wants to shove him off, keep yelling at him for being an asshole and maybe even slap him just to prove a point, but you won’t. Your need for him significantly outweighs your anger and frustration. After all, he’s here with you, isn't he? Not that other girl.

Running your hands through the hair at the base of his neck, you use it as leverage to pull him closer and force his tongue even farther into your mouth. One of Jake’s hands trails under your skirt, groping the supple flesh of your ass before drifting between your thighs.

“Pathetic,” Jake growls as his fingers trail over the wet patch of your panties. “So wet just from grinding like a bitch in heat.” He rips the flimsy fabric down your legs. “You were a little slut teasing him like that. I bet he thought you were gonna fuck him. He’s probably standing out there with a tent in his pants. I bet he’ll be rubbing one out to the thought of you later on. Maybe I should let him in here, let him use you any way he wants.”

The response that pulls from you is something between a whimper and a moan. Jake lets out a dark chuckle, “I bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Well, that’s too bad. The only guy you’ll be taking care of is me.”

“On your knees,” he orders and you oblige, slipping off the counter and onto the tile floor. You sit on your heels, watching patiently as Jake undoes his belt buckle and pulls his dark-wash jeans down to his calves along with his boxers.

Jake smears your lips with precum as he taps his leaking tip against the delicate skin before ordering you to “open up”. You stick your tongue out and relax your jaw, allowing Jake to slowly feed you his cock. He starts slow, letting you take your time to get adjusted to the feeling of him in your mouth. He’s gotten you well-trained over the past two months though and within a minute you’re taking him back until your nose rubs against the curly hair at his base. When your hands grip his thighs and you look up at him through your long fluttering lashes, Jake knows you’re permitting him to use your mouth.

He holds your head still as he pulls his dick almost completely out before forcing it back down your throat. The surprise jolt causes you to gag around his thick cock as your eyes water and drool pools at the corners of your mouth. Peering up at him through wet lashes, you try to hold eye contact with him, but his eyelids flutter closed as he revels in the feeling of your warm mouth.

Jake looks down at your flushed face to admire your ruined eye makeup. Black mascara is smudged under your eyes, running with tear tracks. The sinful sight fuels his arousal. You focus your breathing to avoid violently gagging anymore as Jake begins to steadily fuck your face.

“Knew you had to be good for something,” he grunts.

Between the spit you’ve coated his cock in and the feeling of your warm mouth, Jake can feel his orgasm creeping up on him. You swallow around him as he pushes to the back of your throat once more and Jake decides that’s enough. You whine at the loss of contact but he tuts.

“Did you think I was gonna let you taste me?” You nod solemnly. “Nah, that would be too easy. I gotta make you work for it.” Jake motions for you to stand up and then bends you over the counter. The temperature of the granite is a stark contrast to your body which feels like it’s on fire.

When he nudges your legs apart and flips up the fabric of your skirt to expose your wet cunt, Jake notes the glimmer of your slick-coated thighs under the warm light. He leans down so he can whisper in your ear. “You get off on me using you, don’t ya?” You can hear the amusement in his voice. His heavy drawl sends a new wave of arousal to your neglected cunt. If you don’t feel him inside you soon, you fear you might die.

Your wish is granted when Jake lines his cock up with your dripping entrance. Within one thrust he’s fully sheathed inside your pussy. You yelp as your body slides forward, your head nearly hitting the mirror from the force of his pelvis slamming against your ass.

The sensation that comes with being full of Jake’s thick cock is nearly too much. It’s a painful yet delicious stretch, one you’ll be feeling for days after. Every time you think you might have gotten used to his size, he proves you wrong.

“I can feel your tight little pussy squeezing around me, sugar. I can tell I’m splitting you open.” Jake uses his grip on your hair to gently lift your head off the counter. Your eyes meet in the mirror as he watches you squirm on his cock. He’s got that shit-eating grin plastered on his face like always. “Always so needy for some cock, huh? My greedy little cockwhore.”

Jake’s pearly whites tug on your earlobe before releasing your hair, allowing your head to lull back against the counter. He pulls his cock out halfway then slides back in. His first few thrusts are slow yet purposeful. Slender fingers dig into your hips as he pulls them back to meet him with each deliberate punctuation of his cock.

With your face buried in the crook of your elbow, your moans are muffled. This doesn’t please Jake. “I want to hear you, sugar. I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel”, he growls. You obey, letting your arm fall to your side.

Your volume increases as Jake picks up his pace, now mercilessly pounding into you. The high-pitched cries that fall from your open mouth are like music to Jake’s ears. Your hands clutch onto the edge of the granite as if your life depends on it and it might as well with the way Jake is fucking you.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jake’s angry voice snarls in your ear. “Wanted someone to fuck you like the dirty slut you are?”

He lifts your left leg to rest it beside you on the counter, allowing him to slip in at a new angle. Your body rocks against the counter with each snap of his hips. The nudge of his cockhead against your cervix is unrelenting as he takes his frustrations out on your body.

The tiny bathroom is filled with the sounds of skin slapping and euphoric screams but the music booming through the frat house muffles it from the unsuspecting crowd.

“Please,” you cry. You’re so close to your orgasm, but you need something else to push you over the edge. Jake knows exactly what it is that you need, but he refuses to give it to you.

“Please?” Jake taunts. “Please what?”

“Please make me cum!”

“Make you cum? I don’t think so. I think I’ll just fill you up and let you walk around the rest of the night unsatisfied with me dripping down your thighs. Maybe that will teach you a lesson.”

Your head shoots up from the counter. Looking at Jake in the mirror again you cry out, “No, Please! Please don’t! Please!”

Suddenly, the door bursts open. A deep voice yells out, “What’s going on in here?”

Your head snaps to look at the intruder, embarrassment flooding you as you come face to face with Bradley. You’re even more horrified at the fact that Jake is still pounding into you as if his sworn enemy hasn’t just walked in on the two of you fucking.

Bradley’s face turns beet red as he realizes what he walked in on and that it was not, as he had thought, some girl getting harassed. His brain is screaming at him to run away, but he stands in place frozen and wide-eyed as he grapples to understand what he’s witnessing.

“What the fuck are you looking at, Bradshaw? Get the fuck out of here!” Bradley finally scrambles out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. “Fucking idiot,” Jake grumbles. “Now, I believe you were asking me for something?”

All your embarrassment dissipates as Jake’s cock rams against your sweet spot again. “Will you make me cum? Please, Jake?” Your voice quivers as you plead.

He considers you for a moment, eyes glassy and a pout on those perfect lips of yours. Jake loves to tease you, but he loves the feeling of you coming apart on his cock even more.

“Guess Bradshaw knows not to mess with you now.” Jake resigns as one hand trails to the front of your body. Two deft fingers find your swollen clit, offering you the stimulation you desperately craved.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You cry out as you reach your climax. The white-hot pleasure spreads through you like wildfire, causing your entire body to shake against the counter.

Jake’s body folds over yours as he’s propelled closer to his orgasm by the feeling of your sweet cunt pulsing around him. His teeth sink into your shoulder as his cock twitches inside of you. He ruts into your spent pussy, pumping you full of his cum that will surely leak out of you just as promised.

Once he catches his breath, Jake pulls out of you and redresses his bottom half. You stay propped up against the counter trying to compose yourself while Jake picks your underwear off the floor. He tosses the article of clothing onto the counter before pulling off his baseball tee.

“Here. You should probably clean yourself up before you go back out there.” He extends the shirt out for you to take before reaching for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

“That’s it?” You ask, incredulous. Jake’s brows furrow as he gives you a quizzical look. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You can’t just fuck my brains out because you were jealous that I was dancing with Bradley and then not say anything. You’re the one who ignored me all night while you flirted with some other girl.”

“I am *not* jealous of Bradley.”

“Then what do you call what just happened?”

“It’s called hooking up, sugar. We do it all the time.”

“and now you’re just gonna leave?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. We’re not a couple. We can do whatever we want.” With that final remark, Jake walks back out to the party, still shirtless, leaving you alone in the bathroom to process what just happened.

When he nudges your legs apart and flips up the fabric of your skirt to expose your wet cunt, Jake notes the glimmer of your slick-coated thighs under the warm light. He leans down so he can whisper in your ear. “You get off on me using you, don’t ya?” You can hear the amusement in his voice. His heavy drawl sends a new wave of arousal to your neglected cunt. If you don’t feel him inside you soon, you fear you might die.

Your wish is granted when Jake lines his cock up with your dripping entrance. Within one thrust he’s fully sheathed inside your pussy. You yelp as your body slides forward, your head nearly hitting the mirror from the force of his pelvis slamming against your ass.

The sensation that comes with being full of Jake’s thick cock is nearly too much. It’s a painful yet delicious stretch, one you’ll be feeling for days after. Every time you think you might have gotten used to his size, he proves you wrong.

“I can feel your tight little pussy squeezing around me, sugar. I can tell I’m splitting you open.” Jake uses his grip on your hair to gently lift your head off the counter. Your eyes meet in the mirror as he watches you squirm on his cock. He’s got that shit-eating grin plastered on his face like always. “Always so needy for some cock, huh? My greedy little cockwhore.”

Jake’s pearly whites tug on your earlobe before releasing your hair, allowing your head to lull back against the counter. He pulls his cock out halfway then slides back in. His first few thrusts are slow yet purposeful. Slender fingers dig into your hips as he pulls them back to meet him with each deliberate punctuation of his cock.

With your face buried in the crook of your elbow, your moans are muffled. This doesn’t please Jake. “I want to hear you, sugar. I want everyone to hear how good I make you feel”, he growls. You obey, letting your arm fall to your side.

Your volume increases as Jake picks up his pace, now mercilessly pounding into you. The high-pitched cries that fall from your open mouth are like music to Jake’s ears. Your hands clutch onto the edge of the granite as if your life depends on it and it might as well with the way Jake is fucking you.

“Is this what you wanted?” Jake’s angry voice snarls in your ear. “Wanted someone to fuck you like the dirty slut you are?”

He lifts your left leg to rest it beside you on the counter, allowing him to slip in at a new angle. Your body rocks against the counter with each snap of his hips. The nudge of his cockhead against your cervix is unrelenting as he takes his frustrations out on your body.

The tiny bathroom is filled with the sounds of skin slapping and euphoric screams but the music booming through the frat house muffles it from the unsuspecting crowd.

“Please,” you cry. You’re so close to your orgasm, but you need something else to push you over the edge. Jake knows exactly what it is that you need, but he refuses to give it to you.

“Please?” Jake taunts. “Please what?”

“Please make me cum!”

“Make you cum? I don’t think so. I think I’ll just fill you up and let you walk around the rest of the night unsatisfied with me dripping down your thighs. Maybe that will teach you a lesson.”

Your head shoots up from the counter. Looking at Jake in the mirror again you cry out, “No, Please! Please don’t! Please!”

Suddenly, the door bursts open. A deep voice yells out, “What’s going on in here?”

Your head snaps to look at the intruder, embarrassment flooding you as you come face to face with Bradley. You’re even more horrified at the fact that Jake is still pounding into you as if his sworn enemy hasn’t just walked in on the two of you fucking.

Bradley’s face turns beet red as he realizes what he walked in on and that it was not, as he had thought, some girl getting harassed. His brain is screaming at him to run away, but he stands in place frozen and wide-eyed as he grapples to understand what he’s witnessing.

“What the fuck are you looking at, Bradshaw? Get the fuck out of here!” Bradley finally scrambles out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. “Fucking idiot,” Jake grumbles. “Now, I believe you were asking me for something?”

All your embarrassment dissipates as Jake’s cock rams against your sweet spot again. “Will you make me cum? Please, Jake?” Your voice quivers as you plead.

He considers you for a moment, eyes glassy and a pout on those perfect lips of yours. Jake loves to tease you, but he loves the feeling of you coming apart on his cock even more.

“Guess Bradshaw knows not to mess with you now.” Jake resigns as one hand trails to the front of your body. Two deft fingers find your swollen clit, offering you the stimulation you desperately craved.

“Thank you! Thank you!” You cry out as you reach your climax. The white-hot pleasure spreads through you like wildfire, causing your entire body to shake against the counter.

Jake’s body folds over yours as he’s propelled closer to his orgasm by the feeling of your sweet cunt pulsing around him. His teeth sink into your shoulder as his cock twitches inside of you. He ruts into your spent pussy, pumping you full of his cum that will surely leak out of you just as promised.

Once he catches his breath, Jake pulls out of you and redresses his bottom half. You stay propped up against the counter trying to compose yourself while Jake picks your underwear off the floor. He tosses the article of clothing onto the counter before pulling off his baseball tee.

“Here. You should probably clean yourself up before you go back out there.” He extends the shirt out for you to take before reaching for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

“That’s it?” You ask, incredulous. Jake’s brows furrow as he gives you a quizzical look. “Are you kidding me?”

“What?”

“You can’t just fuck my brains out because you were jealous that I was dancing with Bradley and then not say anything. You’re the one who ignored me all night while you flirted with some other girl.”

“I am not jealous of Bradley.”

“Then what do you call what just happened?”

“It’s called hooking up, sugar. We do it all the time.”

“and now you’re just gonna leave?”

“There’s nothing to talk about. We’re not a couple. We can do whatever we want.” With that final remark, Jake walks back out to the party, still shirtless, leaving you alone in the bathroom to process what just happened.

[sarkos]

Lilly was a sort of Midwestern ideal type of the Lovecraftian protagonist: born in St. Paul to wealthy parents, he studied chemistry and philosophy from an early age. His undergraduate career at Caltech (1933-1938) almost exactly overlaps the period of the alchemist-Crowleyite John Whiteside Parsons’ GALCIT rocketry program there, and both were chemistry students. (Lilly and Parsons almost certainly met, Caltech not being that big a world in the Thirties, but what happened — or Happened — during that Trail of Cthulhu time slot has managed to go un-recorded in their various biographies.) He entered Dartmouth medical school in 1938, then transferred to Penn where he continued his Lovecraftian development by conducting various medical experiments on himself and writing a forbidden text: a book (this was 1942) called How To Build an Atomic Bomb. He conducted postgraduate work under pioneering biophysicist (and putative Majestic-12 member) Detlev Bronk and at the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), doing research for the Air Force — among other things developing early electro-encephalograms and, in 1954, the first sensory deprivation tank. According to his memoirs, he was approached by the CIA to work on such things as animal-activated surveillance and explosives, and (perhaps) on the MK-ULTRA mind-control project. According to Lilly, he refused, nobly insisting that his work remain open for all. He loudly resigned from NIMH in 1958. Having boldly proclaimed his independence from government control, Lilly founded the Communication Research Institute Inc. (CRII) on the island of St. Thomas in the U.S. Virgin Islands. CRII was, of course, funded by NASA, the U.S. military, and possibly other shadowy figures. Lilly had become interested in the question of dolphin brains: much like those of humans, cetacean brains are very large in ratio to their bodies and have an even higher density of neurons. Lilly set up dolphin tanks and pools, and began to experiment on dolphins, most notoriously when his dolphin Peter fell for researcher Margaret Lowe Howitt while she tried to teach Peter to speak English. It wasn’t all dolphin grabass in the islands, though: Lilly also dissected and probed the brains of the cetaceans, in between drug experiments (on them and himself) and attempts to decipher dolphin communication by floating next to them in sensory deprivation tanks. James Wade’s terrific 1969 short story “The Deep Ones” provides a fictionalized Lilly in the form of Miskatonic hippie guru Alonzo Waite, and in the form of his opposite number, dolphin researcher Dr. Frederick Wilhelm. Most impressively, it casts the dolphins as one more intermediary between man and Cthulhu, cousin or evolutionary stage of the Deep Ones. Wade mentions the ancient Greek myth that dolphins were pirates turned into beasts by Dionysos, tying it wonderfully into the deeper Mythos truths of Dagon and human-oceanic interbreeding of the Innsmouth sort. Any Fall of Delta Green Handler has a whole mini-campaign just lying there between Wade’s fictions and the CRII’s madness. But it doesn’t end there. Wade doesn’t even bring in Lilly’s involvement in SETI, which (likely again via NASA back channels) wound up connecting Lilly and the CRII with astrophysicist Frank Drake, who considered dolphins a template for alien life on Earth. Lilly presented his dolphin theories at the Green Bank astrophysics conference in 1961 where Drake coined his famous equation for the probability of alien life. He was such a hit that Drake, Lilly, a pre-turtleneck Carl Sagan, and biologist J.B.S. Haldane all made up the “Order of the Dolphin” and wore dolphin lapel pins when they were wearing lapels, which wasn’t often in St. Thomas.

Call of Chicago: John C. Lilly, One-Man Mythos – Pelgrane Press Ltd

[pawseds]

I've had this idea in my head for a while! In our Delta Green campaign, Hrothgar (real name Gavrill) sleeps in so many play-by-posts, which I thought was kinda funny. Context for each sleep is below the cut.

From left to right clockwise, ending with the middle:

Before the first operation, Gavrill falls asleep on the couch to My Little Pony on the TV

Gavrill tries staying up to wait for his eldest, Hrodwyn, to return home. He ends up sleeping on the table at 2am

Sleeping on the flight to the second operation in Australia

uhhh

In the current second operation, the party got stranded in the middle of the desert. Gavrill made a plan to travel at night and sleep in the day

After the first operation, Gavrill exchanges terse texts with his children and realise life would've been easier for everyone if he just stayed in prison (he was framed and was stuck there for a decade until Helvetia hired him out)

On his first night back from prison, he sleeps in his children's room on the floor between their beds. Hygd, his youngest, joins him

[darthyolk]

Im gonna explode if i dont talk about this eventually so heres my delta green character okay be NICE :3

Her name is Jeeja Cheung (named after two Hong Kong movie stars! Jeeja Yanin and Leslie Cheung respectively), she was born in St. George, Utah on March 21st, 1978, to Chinese immigrants who followed the Dao. Their religion made them a target of frequent visits by missionaries sent by the church of latter day saints, and a young Jeeja immersed herself into her families beliefs further and further out of pride and spite from their harrasment. It didn't take long for her to run through what little her library had on the Dao or about other Chinese religions, and she found herself reading all kinds of books about other cultures religions and ways of life: The Norse, Irish, Egyptian, Shinto, Vietnamese, Navajo, Goshute, Buddhist, and Islamic texts were of special interest. She was utterly enthralled by all of these stories of gods and spirits, humans and forces beyond their ken, how these stories captured the magic of the world in a childs eye.

As she grew, she took to more occult interests. After she graduated high school she enrolled in Valley University with a major in Anthropology, but in her spare time she researched occult texts and symbolism trying to see if she could provoke a reaction from the other side. She never succeeded. In the Winter of 98' her group of friends and her decided to start an ametuer ghost hunting party which would investigate abandoned houses and hokey murder mysteries in the state, they would drive around in her 96' chevy caprice station wagon and talk the night away about the cases they were on. These outings are mostly recorded and some of the footage was even edited by her friend Cary Shou into shlocky home movies (Cary still ghost hunts to this day!) Jeeja still has some of the old equipment in her modern day apartment in Dublin as well.

Eventually, ghost hunting lost its calling, and as much as she tried her attempts to contact something supernatural never bore any fruit. With her PhD in Anthropology complete, she began her professional career as a freelance anthropologist, bouncing around the world looking into sites of interest and studying the way the legends she read as a child formed. The ways people think and act. At the age of 25 she had firm roots with an anthropology group in Ireland, and had even gotten herself a partner out there. Her station wagon has some cheesy Irish gift shop decorating it.

Because of her reputation in the anthropological world as being somewhat of a nut, but a nut who got her job done well once she got to it. She was hired by the FBI to take on a mysterious job in Death Valley in the Spring of 2005, and she would finally meet the forces she'd spent her whole life chasing

The artwork of her was done my really talented friend Noc!!!

[runwayrunway]

No. 23 - Icelandair (With an Aside on the Role of Flag Carriers)

Sure, let's talk about Icelandair! I think they fit in pretty well with the conversation that's been slowly playing out with other European flag carriers Lufthansa and SAS about the evolution of liveries as we stumble in to the 2020s proper. (As for the second half of this ask, hold that thought for just a minute.)

Unfortunately, Lufthansa snuck its nasty little face into this post as well, and I do sort of want to give a brief content warning, as a...certain sordid point in Germany's history is alluded to, though not lingered on. Because flag carriers are sort of important. They're propaganda - and in Icelandair's case, that's okay!

Icelandair is not a concept that needs much explanation. It's right there in the title. It is an airline, and it is from Iceland. If you want a little more information, here's a summary written in 1997 by John K. Morton for his book "Jetliner Glory". (Scan mine)

As you can see, Icelandair was, at this point, rocking a supersized nothingburger of a livery. With just a cheatline and some paint on the bottom of the nacelles to accompany the logo and wordmark it feels less like SAS's belly stripes or Tibet Airlines, where it looks like a plane painted white, and feels more like they just forgot to add the rest of the livery.

While I do slightly prefer this older take with the more faded colours, the bare metal underside, and the contoured down-sloping cheatline, it's still pretty nothing.

Oh no. Oh nonononono don't do that please don't-

Thank you. That's much less worse.

The blue-and-yellow livery was adopted in 2006. I don't like this but this feels necessary. What stands out to me about Icelandair, above any individual feature of their fleet, is that they are fundamentally incapable of departing from whatever the most simplified and common design trend of the time is.

70s and early 80s. Single rule cheatline, large font wordmark, bare metal lower half.

80s and early 90s. All over paint, text moved forward to just behind the forwardmost door. Beginning of strict adherence to Eurowhite en masse.

Aughts to late 2010s. This is an era of somewhat refined Eurowhite. This allows very specific colored parts of the airframe: a block of color on the underside, a detached floating tail, colored winglets, and colored nacelles.

My opinion of this specific livery is that it is nearly identical to Delta's. Similar dark blue shade, exact same layout. The only difference is that Delta's blue engines make the livery look more coherent and Delta's logo is far more distinctive. I consider Delta to be the platonic ideal of this type of 2000s Eurowhite, and Icelandair uses the exact same layout.

I will say...it could be worse. Icelandair does not fail the Star Alliance test, so I cannot give it an F.

It's getting a D, for Delta.

But hey! Great news! They literally just unveiled a new one! And they've given me a nice webpage describing their thought process. I keep seeing more and more airlines do this with their 2020s livery releases and I think it's awesome.

image: icelandair

And they're jellybeans! I make no secret for my love of jellybeans. These come in five colours: boreal blue, magenta, sky blue, yellow, and green. Each of them is meant to represent a different aspect of Icelandic natural phenomenae, which I would expect at least partially stems from the response to their widely beloved Hekla Aurora and Vatnajökull liveries.

The two colours not pictured above: boreal blue (left) and green (right)

I really like these choices of colour. I think my favourite is ultimately magenta because of how striking its contrast is with the main blue, but none of these look even a little bad.

I do wish there was a little more integration of the jellybean colours into the rest of the livery (maybe the winglets or the engine nacelles, or as an outline on the wordmark, or extended to the underside of the plane), but the concept itself is solid and each colourway is pleasing. While I think this is a welcome change from the earlier yellow-and-blue scheme I am very happy that they kept a yellow variant.

Red engine SAS livery jumpscare in the background.

I would say the main thing I dislike about the new livery is the billboard wordmark. It's fine in theory but I utterly despise the typeface they've chosen and I find that sans-serif typefaces look fine when they're small but get uglier and uglier the larger you make them. It's a very boring downgrade, especially compared to the tasteful little serifs on the very tips of the old one. They were a minor aerodynamic touch but they were very nice compared to this, which is giving corporate brochure in a way I can't stand. At least it keeps the middle fuselage from being blank, I suppose.

I do like it a lot better on the Dash 8, though it's a little too low to the bottom for my taste. They could solve this by just making it slightly smaller, but they've apparently fully committed to a font that is, in my opinion, too large and widely spaced.

I feel like they also missed an opportunity with their logo. I've seen people say that it's a stylised 'F' to represent the company's first name, Flugfélag. I've heard someone else say that it reminds them of a stylised aurora, and I agree with them. I think there was a lot of room to play with both of these, and that it's a shape that's simple enough and dynamic enough to lend itself well to livery design, and that they could have created something so much better had they made more use of it - especially with the jellybean colours.

The final thing I want to point out is the tail. It's very blatant that the 2020s equivalent of the detached tail is the slightly-integrated tail, which loops down and just prevents the tail from being detached while still leaving the majority of the fuselage blank white without really adding much visual interest or presenting much in the way of creativity.

SAS and WestJet are two other airlines from those I've covered which do this. Now, they could both be a lot worse - WestJet has a nice wordmark and I've already talked about why SAS does a lot that's more interesting than the tail - but I can't deny that I dislike this trend. It fixes the ugliness of Detached Tail Syndrome but without adding much. It is the bare minimum. It is an upgrade from bad to nothing. And I think it's worth noting that both of these airlines, and indeed the majority of airlines with slightly-integrated tails, used to have detached tails. The Lufthansa clone of the 2020s is the Delta clone of the 2010s.

But I think Icelandair's new livery requires comparison to one 2020s livery more than any other - our old 'friend', Lufthansa.

The reason I point out Lufthansa is that unlike SAS and WestJet it does not feature a curve, but a straight line downwards. It also features more than one colour on the tail itself, sort of - I mean, it has the contrasting white stripe.

I don't think I particularly need to linger on why I like Icelandair's livery so much better than I like Lufthansa's. But I will point out one aspect in particular. The descriptions of the inspiration behind Lufthansa's livery focus on how sleek and modern it is. It occasionally mentions nebulous 'German values' (a phrase which in context refers to Europe's obsession with the most hideous sans-serif fonts on the face of the planet and soul-sucking minimalist white design but which sort of makes me shudder as a disabled bisexual Jew, a set of traits seemingly min-maxxed for being a target of...well, you know) but beyond that is wholly and almost gleefully corporate, scoffing in the face of the fact that flag carriers are almost by design intended to be unprofitable, to provide air transport to residents of their country and to serve as propaganda.

Air France lost heaps of money on Concorde, Alitalia went fourteen years without turning a profit, and do you think carriers like Rwandair or Air Niugini, which just don't have the demand to operate planes filled to capacity, are able to make money? Of course not, but they operate anyway because people need to get places and it's a statement for a government, especially one without the means of a massive European power with centuries of stolen resources at its disposal or an ultrawealthy Gulf state, to put their names on a plane and say that this is a service they are providing to the people they are, on paper, meant to provide for.

This is not a feature unique to airlines - just think about the way high-speed rail in China and Japan are inherently tied to their national identities, as something these countries have built as a service to their people and as something which makes them better places to live. Think about the Space Race, which was a dick-measuring contest more than it was for science. The US government is notorious for its unwillingness to fund science projects but if it means sticking it to the reds it's worth a couple billion to put a man on the moon.

Any sort of project which invents or builds by necessity becomes a symbol of national power. Sometimes these things are useful, like high-speed rail, and sometimes they advance science, like reaching the moon, but, like...did Ferrari World need to exist, or is the UAE willing to spend a bunch of money to say "look how awesome we are, we have the fastest roller-coaster in the world"? Did the USSR need the Tu-144? Of course not - luxury air transport wasn't a thing, they couldn't charge a premium, and there wasn't anywhere safe to release a sonic boom over, and it was rushed out in a state that couldn't really be considered airworthy just to serve for less than a year while diverting resources from actually useful aerospace projects. The Tu-144 set back Soviet aerospace engineering by decades but it was worth it for the chance to say they built the first supersonic airliner, which will remain technically true forever. Countries are chomping at the bit to displace people and abuse labourers and waste money and resources to build stadiums that will lie derelict for the rest of time just to get to say they hosted the Olympics.

These things are worth losing money for. To say 'we are willing to lose money to give our people transport and to have our own airline with our own flag on it'. Flag carriers do not need to be profitable. If they happen to turn a profit that's a good thing for the country but it's not meant to be the point. That the US has never had a flag carrier feels like a very pointed statement to me - no handouts, pull yourself up by your bootstraps and build your own damn airline. While many large airlines elsewhere have their own founders with their own marks on history and large personalities, none of them have the cultural capital that Juan Trippe or Howard Hughes do. Icelandair's equivalent of Juan Trippe is the aurora.

I cannot imagine a carrier which reflects its national identity less than Lufthansa does. Perhaps they want to forget that they are a flag carrier and by this nature propaganda. After all, despite being largely a different entity, they bear the name of a flag carrier founded by the Third Reich. They had an easy out of this. They could have stuck with their initial name, Luftag. They could even have taken the name and branding of Interflug, the East German flag carrier, but better to be founded by the actual Third Reich than by the Communists, from their perspective. It's probably better to lean as far away from what they were made to be as possible. And from their point of view to be as corporate as possible is actually probably a reflection of what there is to love about Germany, given that this is their background. I find that incredibly sad. If I were German, this would make me furious. There is so much more to Germany than anything Lufthansa has ever been. It is insulting not just to my eyes but to the idea that it is meant to be part of German identity.

Meanwhile, Icelandair's inspiration is Iceland: the natural features which make their country worth visiting. They are aware of this - they actually used the Hekla Aurora livery to promote the fact that they offered free week-long stopovers in Iceland. Their website explicitly lays, interspersed with images of aurora over snowy mountainous landscapes which seem to stretch on forever, that this is what Iceland has to offer.

And since we spend so much time in the sky, we drew inspiration from what we see in front of us, and what we see in our country from above. [...] By extending our color palette, we have a chance to bring the vibrant Icelandic spirit to the world, and to show the world the diversity of our people: The Icelandic spirit is available to anyone and everyone who wants to share in it.

At the end of the day, flag carriers are a form of propaganda. That word normally has a very nasty connotation, but it doesn't have to be things like war crime coverups and attempts to quell rebellion. In this case, it can be an encouragement for Icelandic people to be proud of something about their country as well as an attempt to drum up tourism. Is it still a calculated attempt to sell you something? Sure. But it's an attempt to sell something Icelandic people are proud of, because they live somewhere with beautiful features that don't exist anywhere else. I really want to visit Iceland, and have for years, for the exact reasons outlined in Icelandair's material about their new livery.

And does this livery actually overtly communicate these things? No, not really. I think it's something you can see when you have it explained to you but wouldn't notice at a glance. But the fact that this was considered at all, much like condor's justification for their flying striped nightmares, keeps me from feeling the same sort of disgust I do for liveries like Lufthansa's.

So, Icelandair could do a lot better. But they're doing a lot better than they ever have before. And they have succeeded, fundamentally, at being Icelandair.

I leave them with a final grade of C.

It could be better. Far better. But they're at least using the right equation to get the wrong answer. If they ever get the courage to design something which doesn't follow the dominant trends in whatever the decade's particular flavour of Eurowhite is as if it's copied from a template, I think Icelandair could come up with something really great, and I hope I live long enough to see it.

And, as a final note on their commitment to their national identity, I will be discussing their three non-crossover special liveries: Þingvellir, Vatnajökull, and this blog's first twice-requested livery, Hekla Aurora. But they will get their own post, because this one is already preposterously long, so get ready to see a lot more Iceland very very soon.

(...I really want to visit Iceland.)

[ssugarsp00n]

I dreamed that I was writing an adventure for Delta Green. Or rather, running it, improvising as I went. There was a scene where a character (a child) is sneaking around an empty school, because there is a monster on the second floor of the school. The kid doesn't know it yet, but the monster is a bunch of people stuck together in a slimy heap. He only knows about the monster because of the sounds it makes - like someone slapping a wet mop on the floor.

The school is empty because there is a September 1st assembly going on outside the school. I have no idea if they do something like this in the US, but it was ambiguous whether the adventure was taking place somewhere in the former USSR or somewhere else. It could have been any other event that required all the students to be gathered outside.

There was a clue that the history teacher was telling the kids how before WWII Germany hired people in the USSR for sabotage and they had a secret sign to identify each other - a coin. And he showed this coin. It and the monster were somehow connected. And the child was trying to decide - either to use something from the chemistry class to try to defeat the monster, or not to approach it at all, find a coin and run.

At the same time, another character, also a child, was riding a train and trying to figure out how to send her mother a text message so that she would think it was from her father, who was now on an expedition at a polar station.

Unfortunately I don't know what the context was, but in the dream I really enjoyed watching the player figure out how to do it from a child's point of view.

[attapullman]

Mo-Mo, I swore I was gonna wait for this but I just couldn't help it (lol).

After seeing those photos of young Royal and Cecelia in the promo shots, all I can think about are those damn home movie tapes (lol). We saw Cece's pregnancy journey with Rhett, but what about when the precious lil bean got older?

Royal's personal favorite home video was when Rhett was about ten months old and he brought him down to meet the horses. Royal was holding him in one arm and Baby Rhett was reaching up to pet the big stallion's snout when he suddenly snorted and scared Rhett, two seconds later the baby spit his binkie out and screamed "FUCK!!!!" in his lil baby voice........that was his first word (lol).

Cut to two years later when Rhett was two and Perry was being a little asshole at the dinner table. Cecelia's trying to get the kitchen cleaned up and Royal's making sure the boys finish their dinner and Perry's tattling on Rhett because of something stupid. Royal just cuts in and goes "Perry, nobody likes a tattle-tale", cue baby Rhett going "Yeah nobody does Pewy" and Perry dumping his whole plate of spaghetti all over his brother (lol).

Oh but that's nothing compared to that summer when it was bathtime. Cecelia would haul out the big metal washtub and scrub the boys outside. Royal was running in and out of the frame chasing Baby Rhett, who by this point was running butt naked all over God's green earth and loudly declaring "NO DADDY! NO!!! NO BAF FOR ME!!!!!"

Or the exasperated looks on their faces when Rhett came running up to them one day and Royal caught on camera poor little Rhett going "Daddy, Pewy pushed me in da pile of horse poop." Of course Perry's denying it while their grandfather, Royal's dad, is yelling for Perry to "get yer fuckin ass over here".

"The Great Leaf Pile War of 1996" was pure gold though. The dog was involved and had Royal and Cecelia rolling for hours.

Rhett, Kayce Dutton and their best friend, Wes Redwood (a very well known rez brat from over the hill and Joy's little cousin) filmed themselves at ten years old, singing along and dancing to Lil Jon's "Get Low" at ten years old in the bed of Royal's truck. In the background you can hear Royal yelling at'em from the garage to "stop singing that fuckin song". Years later when they were all at Montana State, some of Rhett's Delta Tau brothers helped him, Kayce and Wes recreate the video. Cecelia sent him a text when she got it with only one word in response "Dumbasses" (lol, she did the same thing when the boys lip synced to Awkwafina's "My Vag").

Mo-Mo please enjoy this hilarious little slice of life from the Abbotts and if you want any more, please let me know, I'm always happy to pick from the orchard (lol).

Mary, I needed this hilarious slice of life so much today! I'm actually rolling at Perry being told off for being a tattle tale because he has SUCH tattle tale vibes 🫢

Thank you for sharing the gems that are your mind!!

[besiwoo]

close to you // starter for @bejaeyoung

siwoo hardly sees jay – and in truth he’d sort of suspected that that would be the case if he’d sign up for project green. still, it was jay that had pushed him into signing the contract with lime, and it was jay who had told him to take up the opportunity when project green was presented to him. in truth, when it all boiled down to it, it isn’t far off to say that jay is the reason behind siwoo’s new found passion for music and performing.

still, while project green is new and exciting, siwoo hadn’t strayed away from pouring his concerns to jay. late night conversations, text messages shared between one another during breaks – those felt as though the only time that siwoo had to himself. the only time that he could spend with jay, unabashedly. at the very least though, he’s still able to see his boyfriend when they’re both in the axis building. it’s perhaps one of the few things he looks forward to every week.

when he spots his boyfriend in one of the practice rooms, immediately his eyes lighten up, and a smile graces his face. he doesn’t waste any time, instead walking over to the boy, before wrapping an arm around his waist. “hi jay,” he smiles, resting his chin against jay’s shoulder. they’re so close, and yet siwoo knows better than to move any closer. even this distance is too much for him, already used to having their bodies intertwined, and his lips on jay’s skin. 

but they’re in the axis building after all, with cameras abundant. the most he can do is this – touches that he’d always seemed to share with jay, even before they became official, before he’d even realized his own feelings that were brimming to the top of his heart. 

jay smells nice, feels nice too. siwoo knows this ( of course he does ), but there’s a difference and a pull that’s so much stronger now that he isn’t able to see jay as often anymore. at the very least before project green, he’d take the time out of his day to drive jay to and fro the studio delta building in his car; those were the times he cherished the most. the little moments he would spend with jay, even if only barely for an hour. 

he likes having his chin attached to jay’s shoulder like this, and so he doesn’t pull away. they’d always been unabashedly touchy from the beginning – the only difference now was that siwoo had to use every bone in his body not to kiss his boyfriend. it’s not fair, he thinks, that jay looks so cute and he isn’t allowed to kiss him. whatever. a problem to solve for another time.

“i missed you,” he says, tilting his head slightly to look at his boyfriend. “were you busy practicing?” he asks, and his thumb begins to draw circles around jay’s waist. oh, dangerous.

he pulls away, before it gets too far – siwoo knows to keep with his limits here. he smiles, and he knows he looks exhausted, bags under his eyes that he hadn’t had the time to care for, and glasses slipping off of his nose – eyes too dry from the lack of sleep to warrant wearing contacts for the day. 

[rudjedet]

I posted 3,846 times in 2022

That's 503 more posts than 2021!

1,103 posts created (29%)

2,743 posts reblogged (71%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@thatlittleegyptologist

@somecunttookmyurl

@bubobubosibericus

@rudjedet

@23-tiny-wishes

I tagged 1,320 of my posts in 2022

#egyptology - 89 posts

#ancient egypt - 52 posts

#tagamemnon - 30 posts

#toddler reblogs - 25 posts

#seth - 18 posts

#alt text provided - 8 posts

#ygo - 8 posts

#hieroglyphs - 7 posts

#sutekh - 6 posts

#writing - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#i tried very hard not to get excited because well we're there with three kids and i can't just go running around from enclosure to enclosure

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

the Bible is a historical document, just not in the way 95% of people think it means when historians say that. people not understanding this concept is why you can’t adequately discuss anything concerning said source with them because they kneejerk into “IT’S ALL FAIRYTALES AND LIES!!!” or “everything happened exactly like that and there’s no debate”. in both cases a regrettable lack of nuance, but worse so in the former case because often those people pretend to be in the camp of “rational science”. something something please develop some historical literacy before you engage in discussions pertaining to (ancient) history.

7,368 notes - Posted August 18, 2022

#4

So. Pharaoh Mentuhotep II's daughter (?), Mayet. Is Mayet the best way to write her name? I saw her coffin once, and the plaque said it's spelled Mayet but I've seen online sources use other spellings.

Mayet works, Miut works too. Her name means "cat", so personally I'd say Miut is closer but Mayet is an older and therefore more entrenched sort of spelling as far as I'm aware. As with all Egyptological pronunciations, it's a modern convention anyway since we don't know the actual vocalisation of the words. If you like Mayet best, go for Mayet.

7,856 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

#3

ah yes, dncisnt sphyrt, my field of study

10,111 notes - Posted March 18, 2022

#2

NOT EVERYTHING IN EGYPT IS SAND NOT EVERYTHING IN EGYPT ANCIENT OR MODERN IS DESERT EGYPT LITERALLY IS A BIGASS RIVER VALLEY + DELTA THAT IS GREEN AND HAS PLANTS AND SHIT BECAUSE OF THE RIVER NOT. EVERYTHING. IS. FUCKING. SAND.

11,098 notes - Posted May 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

listen i am a bitter little fuck and i get angry a lot about a great many things that i see wrong with the world but if there’s anything i absolutely hate it’s that godforsaken attitude that humanity is inherently evil. die on the hill of your self-defeating ecofascist rhetoric so that i can picknick on your grave, ta.

11,826 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[agentravensong]

it's the day before christmas... you know what that means?

it's dess deltarune day!!!

presenting, at long last, the dess holiday that lives in my head:

more drawings plus detailed design notes below the cut!! please click on the images for better quality viewing (they also all have alt text)

dess design notes:

- her fur and hair colors are picked from rudy's sprite, though i toned her fur color down slightly (and then even more so for her ??? form).

- her freckles, like how i draw noelle's, form triangles as a not-so-subtle reference to the delta rune. that being said, i draw noelle's freckles as oriented the other way, one of a few small ways in which i have their designs mirror but differ from each other (the others being: both having bangs but swept in opposite directions; and dess having buck teeth like noelle but rectangular instead of rounded)

- i didn't give dess antlers because of that line from sans in ut where he refers to "the antlered girl and her big sis" rather than "the antlered girls/sisters". instead, i gave her those hair tufts that are meant to look like horns, as both a parallel to kris's horn headband that they wear to try and fit in with their family, and as a bit of devil symbolism to contrast noelle's whole angel thing.

- i messed around with dess's light world outfit color pallet for a while. for example, i had her jacket be green for a bit so that between that and the skirt we'd get the main christmas colors. i eventually went with having her jacket be red too to make the design as a whole more cohesive. i wanted her to be wearing mainly warm, firey colors cause that feels like it matches her personality from what little we know about her so far.

- the jacket was conceptualized as a hand-me-down from rudy, but in the coloring process i had the idea that it would be neat if azzy had a matching green one (recycling that discarded element of dess's design). perhaps his could be a hand-me-down from asgore?

- the jacket turns that dark purple color in her ??? form because... look, there's a few things i could say, like how it would probably make more sense gonerfication-wise for it to have turned pure black but then that wouldn't stand out as much in dark environments, or how purple is red+blue with the blue coming from water/ocean theory (don't ask (or do)), or how the general use of purple is a callback to the ??? dark world... but in truth, it's because i like purple and i thought it looked cool. the main intended meaning is that she's in a cold, dark place now, so the warmth has, mostly, left her pallet. oh, also, because susie's purple, and it def feels like there are gonna be parallels between dess and susie. jevil too, by extension.

- i gave dess's shirt five stripes, even though by the age she is here she's probably outgrown striped shirts (not that that's stopped kris), as a visual reference to a music staff! cause, ya know, she seems to be a musician. the reference is a lot more obvious in her ??? form with the black and white shirt, as that's where it originated.

- i gave her the skirt with the shorts underneath them because i already had in mind that in her ??? form she'd wear that half-skirt half-shorts piece. the idea is that when she falls into the code or whatever, that element of her design gets mistranslated and the two clothing items are scrambled together. i also already knew from an older version of her design that i wanted it to have a chessboard-like pattern cause of chess's potential as a motif in dr - and also cause black white and grey as a color scheme is associated with gaster and the goners - so having the light world version of it be flannel/plaid just, fit.

- on a similar note, the darker and grey patches in dess's fur in her ??? form are meant to both contribute to a somewhat glitchy aesthetic and hint towards her ongoing gonerfication. i then had the idea as i was messing around with them that there should be grey specifically around her facial features to mimic skull face paint!

- the whites of her eyes going dark in this form ties into the idea that "only eyes blinded by darkness can see the way", as well as referencing jevil specifically, and her pupils are shaped like save points because they're the light that breaks through the dark. it unintentionally works pretty well as a metaphor for where dess is at: being trapped in the dark for so long has caused her to lose a lot of her hope and fire, but there's still a speck of light that she holds on to. eyes really are the window to the soul ;)

- back to dess's outfit(s), cause i skipped over the scarf. in my older version of her design, i had her wearing an unraveled bowtie or ribbon around her neck, a clothing item that had been part of her mom-approved formal attire. i switched it out with the scarf because a) winter vibes, and, b) more importantly, because i could have it do this in her ??? form:

that's right, wings! only under Certain Conditions, but, wings! cause, uh, angel stuff, and, i mean, come on. wings!!!

the split diamond pattern is again, though less obviously, derived from the triangles featured in the delta rune. the added dots in her ??? form are meant to make the diamonds look like eyes, especially if you turn them on their side. just to add another touch of spookiness. and the scarf is purple in both her designs mostly as an extra justification for where the purple in her ??? form comes from, like it's the one color she got to keep, and to strengthen the continuity between the two versions of her.

- while we're here, it took me a while to figure out what symbol should go on the back of dess's jacket. what i eventually decided on is a slightly modified version of the black symbol to the right in that drawing, which is apparently used in sheet music for piano to denote when the player should release the sustain pedal. i chose it less for its specific meaning and more so just because it's a music thing that kind of looks like a snowflake (or, perhaps, a star).

- then there's the other major addition with dess's ??? form: the halo! it's meant to be another music staff reference, with constantly changing notes traveling along it, but contorted into a guitar-like shape. i'm not 100% set on the colors i used for it tbh, i might change those in future drawings of her. here's the fun part: when dess wants to make music, she's learned how to take her halo and temporarily turn it into, essentially, a hologram version of her guitar that she can actually play songs on! good thing she has a couple of picks in her coat pockets. i wonder what else is in there...?

lastly, for comparison's sake, i drew dess with kris and noelle, back when they were all together... and where they're at now.

(reminder that kris uses they/them pronouns!)

that should be everything covered! if you enjoyed my dess thoughts, may i also take this opportunity to recommend: my playlist for her! it's a little shy of four hours long, featuring 69 songs in a long-deliberated order meant to go through the story of her life - including how i hope her story resolves.

happy dess day everyone! no matter what holiday you celebrate :)

[bodypositivemitsurizine]

[ID: Two primarily pink Guest Contributor Spotlight graphics. The first image has a profile picture framed by roses. It holds a headshot face view of a person with long mossy green hair, they are smiling and have glasses covering their dark brown eyes. They are wearing a grey shirt with white lace and a pink bow in the center. This person also has deer antlers and fluffy deer ears. There is text that reads "Willow, They/She/Fey, and Artist/Merch Artist." Next to the tumblr icon is "@/Faunafell." Next to the twitter icon is "@/Faunafell." Next to the instagram icon is "@/Faunafell." There is a pink box that reads "A funky little fey in a big wyld world, living day to day the best I can. My art is inspired by nature, fantasy, and all things cute!" At the bottom, there is a thin pink ribbon with links to the twitter (BPMitsuriZine) and tumblr (bodypositivemitsurizine).

The second image has the creator's best work. In the corner, Mitsuri Kanroji is an anthropomorphic deer who is smiling. At the bottom, there is a thin pink ribbon with links to the twitter (BPMitsuriZine) and tumblr (bodypositivemitsurizine). The creator's best work is the video game character Ralsei from Delta Rune. He is a dark purple black goat like creature, and has a teal wizard hat and cloak. A pink scarf is wrapped around his neck and white, teal, and pink burst like designs surround him. End ID.]

♡ CONTRIBUTOR SPOTLIGHT - WILLOW ♡

[Plain Text: Contributor Spotlight - Willow.]

Please welcome @FaunaFell to the zine team!

[pawseds]

I convinced our Delta Green game master to have a play-by-post (basically text roleplay) section in our game's server and uhhhhh maybe I've been having too much fun with it. Writing is faster than drawing comics, what can I say?

(Long ramble about writing stories below hehe oops)

While we're here! A bit about writing: I like writing! I've written for loger than I've drawn for (because school). I think I'm better at writing than drawing for that reason (I'm more confident at least). I've written short stories. I've written short stories about TTRPG things. I've also written a ~100k word novel by hand for 2 years. While writing it, I had 'writing class' (technically AS/A level Ennglish Language classes). It was the only class I had confidence in and high expectations for.

With those 2 combined, I burnt out pretty quick LOL. Specifically, I had a big perfectionism issue because of the high expectations I had from my teacher and especially myself -- it was the one thing I knew excelled at in school, so I better do it well! After I was done with the novel and A levels, I was supposed to edit the novel. It's been years and I haven't done it yet, and I wouldn't write non-assignment stories (except 2) until now. Writing became more nerverwracking than it was fun, so why would I?

To get back to the PBP thing: I've been in a campaign that was fully PBP. With my mindset being the way it is, hey! This is just one big writing exercise, so I ran along with that and had fun with it. I saw how some players would make their own PBP and essentially monologue/have a scene only with their PC. That was cool to see.

And now, my current Delta Green campaign (tagged 'Helvetia'). Hrothgar (guy in drawing) and his kids were ported over from a previous D&D campaign (the fully PBP one!), so the crew had a very well defined background already. Of course I get tons of drawing ideas for them, except I don't have the time to draw them all (compsci hard). But since the server has a PBP section, I had like 2 weeks to kill between session 0 and 1, and I was bursting with ideas... I made a lot of solo PBPs that were essentially short stories.

It didn't quite hit me until some time ago, but the PBPs actually made me enjoy writing again -- enjoy it a lot more, in fact! I think the format of Discord threads and messages removed most perfectionism tendencies I had. I just had to fire the story away, message by message. It didn't have to be amazing, and it was fun! (Also I really don't know how to shut up with them LOL)

I'll definitely be cleaning these PBPs up and posting them here as stories. Some of them are just silly, fun, slice-of-life character sketches. (These were the stories I wrote after my novel... and yes, they were about my other set of Delta Green characters LMAO) (and I've posted them here under pawsedswrite btw!) But some I see as legitamite short stories that I would edit more heavily and present as a short story. They were the kinds I could see myself writing on a document rather than on Discord.

Well, I lied. 'I would edit' is false. I have already edited one, because I spent like 5-6h writing this one PBP (oops) instead of writing the draft for my short story class/elective (oops 2). I joked to my two friends saying that I could just submit it as my assignment. Apparently, they both really liked it and said the dialogued slapped. So I did!

I procrastinated like hell on it though, because I was very nervous to go back into the PBP with an axe to edit it. Being in a writing class where nearly everyone else has been formally studying writing for some years kinda puts some pressure on ya!

Like the last assignment (which I'll post here after editing), I had a lot of worries. But the feedback and grade I got from my last assignment, the peer review I got from the current one, and also the support from those two friends (shoutout @katastrofish <3) made me feel more confident in myself. And also the fact that I had a lot of fun editing the PBP!

Uhhh this ramble was way longer than expected LMFAO if you've made it this far, damn, thanks for reading! If you also write or have similar experiences, feel free to share em. And have a good day!

(bonus POV editing)

[indefenseofjoy]

Live blogging OBX S3 as a Venezuelan (as in, the country  part of this shitshow is supposed to be taking place)

Let me preface this by saying that I love this shitshow. It is shitty af and I love it.

 Now I’m just going to be ranting about the things that concern the Orinoco and Venezuela only, not my opinion on the season in general. Also I’ve never bee to the part of the country the show alludes to I’ve only ever been to Apure not the Delta... but all of this is common knowledge. This is mostly composed of a series of texts (translated) that I sent to another Venezuelan friend who is also a fan of the show... Enjoy

Oh and spoilers

- "Onece we get to Orinoco" o "We need to go to Orinoco" as if it wasn't a goddamned river it is “the Orinoco”

- they named Venezuela and apparently john b knows that the river is here

- Imma allow suspension of disbelief here - There neither are nor were indigenous populations in the Venezuelan territory with a written language of their own, but imma let it pass for the plot...

- What kind of sorry excuse of a lame ass archeologist -like not even archeologist just person who went to primary school  - thinks that a thing found in Delta Amacuro (That’s the name of the estate where the Orinoco Delta is) is Mayan?

- Pointing to a map that clearly says "Venezuela" (it even has names of cities like “Barcelona” and “Maturin”  "you pointed to just South America, you know that?"  It only fucking shows a part of Venezuela 

- Bitch! The guajiros founded El Dorado by the Orinoco!!  for reference I attach a map showing where the Guajiros are located and where this show is trying to make you think El Dorado is (for reference the trip by car nowadays, it’d be at least 14 hours): Green: where the Guajiros are located (just in Venezuela, they are also in Colombia) Red: The Orinoco River (Just the Venezuelan part of the river) Pink: What the previous map kind of showed Yellow: Apure, the part or the Orinoco I’ve alluded to (Kind of self promo go see the NGO I work with)

- Look the guajiros still exist, they are alive and not well they are actually literary starving, but they are not Caribe (the wider etnia the Kalinagos belong to)...

- the river guide called josé - that narrows it down...

- JJ has a point, he doesn’t have a passport, but further than that, people from the US need a Visa to get to Venezuela and they can’t get that Visa because Venezuela closed their embassies in the US - just pointing it out, though I’m going to let it pass for the plot 

- A ride to South America? the deal with Barracuda Mike is not very specific... What if he takes he drugs to Chile? the trip from Chile to Venezuela is longer than the trip from anywhere in the USA to Venezuela? And I doubt Barracuda Mike is taking his drugs to Venezuela, the Venezuelan drug trade does not need discreet transportation believe me...

- I’ll give it to them the Orinoco they show looks like the Orinoco I’ve seen in real life and in pictures

- The Orinoco a graveyard of empires... not really unless you count the War of Independence...

- JJ is going to end up in fucking Uruguay if he doesn’t start being more specific...

-I’m not sure “Tres Rocas” exists, but I know a lot of places here that don’t show up on google maps...

- Why the fuck are the people in Tres Rocas partying with dusters? Though we do love unsafe fireworks handling, national pastime right there

- they do get the license plates right 

- Well I assume they can’t find the José who owns a “panga” because “panga” in Venezuela means either a type of fish, a dumb person or a cigarette, like I had to google what a panga was.... they are probably mean a José with the “curiara” or with the “chalana” most probably a chalana... Suprise they didn’t get like kidnapped or scammed

- ...Anyways how come no one in this place is named José? Not even José without a chalana?

- Love the random black and white print of Bolívar on Singh’s place, really dirves home the “we are in Venezuela” thing...

- JAJAJAJAJAJAJA they think a wad like that of bolívares is enough for a trip like that one JAJAJAJAJA that’s less than 10$ I can assure you... And I can also assure you that no one in a remote Venezuelan town that close to the border takes bolívares, they only deal in US dollars and I guess that in the Delta: Guyanese Dollars....

- Btw it was indeed a chalana

- Just a thought... these people are going to get yellow fever or tb or something, are they even vaccinated against that sort of thing?

- “Guajiro” is pronounced is pronounced “whoo- ah- hee- roh” no “Whoa-ha-ro” not that guajiros have anyplace in Delta Amacuro... 

-What kind of goddamned magic phone does Ward have? Those place don’t have signal, you need a satellite phone - I haven’t been to the Delta but my cousin has and they needed a satellite phone... I need a satellite phone down in deep Apure... You cannot just sneak off and send your location to someone there... those places have special guides for a reason and the reason is that GPS does not work down there...not to mention roaming

- You can’t just use Kalinagos and Guajiro interchangeably, they are not the same ethnicity...

- Like pre-columbina guajiros probably didn’t know the Orinoco existed...

- The Pogues have too much trust in the Venezuelan rural health system... that man is going to die, there is nothing to be done.

- There wasn’t enough Jiara though - yes, that is related to the Orinoco...

Conversation with my mom about this series: Me: Now that they’re going on an expedition to El Dorado I feel like this should end like every other expedition to El Dorado Mom: With everyone dead? Me: With everyone dead

She also said I should stop complaining that for a gringo show this is almost intellectual