#babushka answers

[fiddles-ifs]

you doung multiple projects at the same time partially out of spite is so petty and i fucking love it. get their ass bro LMAO

One thing you must know is that I was raised by a collective of ancient Eastern European women. I will die on any hill and do anything for spite.

[deadpanwalking]

At least tell me you're still gonna vote

It's not 2016 anymore, man. I've changed my whole shit around. I've actually been a leftist for quite some time, and believe me when I say I'm beyond done shilling for the Democratic establishment. Under the guise of "civic engagement", my leftoid commie friends and I have infiltrated the system and are gonna flood the market with potential non-voters.

Here's the deal.

You know how I've been a CASA for almost a decade? Well, my friend tipped me off about the local chapter of Black & Pink/ FJAH—I got involved ostensibly because I'm outraged by the violence and racism woven into the fabric of the justice system ruining the lives of entire generations of families. As I've been volunteering for Ayanna Pressley's election campaigns since her Boston City Council days, I've been lowkey spreading the prison abolitionist agenda by talking up the importance of the Inclusive Democracy Act—which would end felony disenfranchisement—when I tell people about Pressley's progressive policies. Now, that may sound extremely vote-pilled at first, but in the long run it accomplishes the most important leftist objective of all: suffrage gives 4.6 million people the choice not to vote.

I'm also continuing to help immigrant and refugee families navigate the byzantine naturalization/citizenship application process via the same organization that my grandmother volunteered for when she was alive. This may also veer dangerously close to patriotism (the amount of American propaganda I have to push to help them pass the civics exam is excruciating), but bear in mind that many of the freshly minted citizens will forgo voting entirely because they're just happy to be living large on Uncle Sam's handouts, and the rest are rabid Zionists who believe that "эта проститутка" (Hillary Rodham Clinton, age 76, public speaker, grandmother of 3) is an active threat to society, and are chomping at the bit to vote for Trump this and every subsequent November.

This is how we win.

[stargazer-sims]

TLC (3)

previous

Nikolai: Look, Sasha, who's that? Is it Grandma?

Alexander: *squeals*

Elena: You used to make that same noise whenever your Grandpa came home from work, Kolya. You always got excited to see him.

Nikolai: I'm not sure if I should be embarrassed or amused by that

Elena: Amused. It's much better for your mental health.

Alexander: *happy noises*

Elena: Come here, Sasha. Let Grandma give you a cuddle.

Nikolai: Thanks for agreeing to take him.

Elena: I should be thanking you. I get to close the shop tomorrow and spend the entire day with my grandbaby.

Nikolai: You're going to close the shop? Where are Deb and Rose?

Elena: Debbie is on holiday with her husband, and Rose had dental surgery yesterday, so she's taking a few days off. I do give my employees personal time, you know.

Nikolai: I never assumed you didn't. This is going to inconvenience your customers though, isn't it?

Elena: Any more than you staying home tomorrow is going to inconvenience everyone at the rink? They'll survive a little inconvenience.

Nikolai: Okay, point made.

Elena: Silly Daddy, worrying about inconveniencing people. Everyone knows the world revolves around you, don't they, Sasha?

Nikolai: I'm pretty sure he does think that, actually.

Elena: As he should. Have you packed his bag yet?

Nikolai: No, not yet. I kinda had my hands full with Mishka, and I was busy making Sasha's formula for you. Oh, he should eat before he goes, speaking of that. When I got home, he and Mishka were both passed out on the couch, so I have no idea when Mishka last fed him. He's probably starving.

Elena: I'll feed him.

Nikolai: Thanks. Would you mind packing his bag too?

Elena: Of course.

Nikolai: Mishka made you a list, although you probably don't need it.

Elena: I'll look at it, since he went to the trouble of making it. Then you can tell him I checked off everything on it.

Nikolai: Thank you. He'll appreciate that. He's really worried about being away from Sasha for the night.

Elena: That's not surprising. I was beside myself the first time I left you and your sister overnight. Grandpa took good care of you, but that didn't stop me from wanting to burst into tears every time I thought about how much you might be missing me.

Nikolai: So, it's normal? Mishka isn't overreacting because of his anxiety?

Elena: Well, I can't say if he's overreacting or not since I haven't seen him, but if you're asking if it's scary to leave your baby with your in-laws overnight for the first time, then the answer is yes. No matter how much you love and trust them, they're not your parents and there's bound to be a tiny bit of doubt.

Nikolai: I never thought of it like that. I guess that explains why I'm not as worried as him.

Elena: That, and you've always been fairly unflappable. It must be hard for little Mishka, not having his own mother here.

Nikolai: I think so. He talks to her almost every day, but it's not the same as being close by. She's coming to see us before the end of the summer though, and I think Vika is coming with her too, so that'll be good for him.

Elena: And for this little one as well. Your babushka is going to travel a very long way to meet you, Sasha, and I know she's going to fall in love with you.

Nikolai: I hope she does. I got the impression she's really coming for Mishka, not for Sasha or me. She's not a huge fan of mine, and neither her nor Dr. Vasiliev are particularly thrilled by the whole science baby situation.

Elena: Dr. Vasiliev? You don't call your father-in-law by his name?

Nikolai: You met him at our wedding. Would you call him Ivan?

Elena: You're asking the wrong person. You know I would, if for no other reason than to knock some of the pride out of him.

Nikolai: I don't think I'm as brave as you. The man intimidates me.

Elena: Don't let him do that. He may not like you, but he doesn't have the right to intrude on your happiness, or to impose his opinions on your family. If he's not pleased with Mishka's choices, that's entirely his problem. You and Mishka are grown men, and you don't need anyone's permission or approval to create the life you want for yourselves.

Nikolai: I... yeah. I'm not going to tell him that.

Elena: If I ever see him in person again, I might. If we can embrace little Mishka and welcome him as part of our family, the least your father-in-law can do for you is have the courtesy to respect you.

Nikolai: Remind me never to get on your bad side.

Elena: Don't worry. I can't even imagine what you'd have to do for that to happen.

Nikolai: I know I don't say this enough, but I'm really glad you're my mother.

Elena:That goes both ways, and it goes for Mishka too. I'm honestly glad to call him my bonus child, and I'm especially glad we have this little man. Your father and I don't even care about that science lab business. As far as we're concerned, Sasha is perfect. How you and Mishka had him doesn't change anything.

Nikolai: That means a lot.

Elena: It's the truth.

Elena: There we go, little man. You're all done with your late dinner. Can you burp?

Nikolai: You should probably have a towel or something. He spits up a lot.

Elena: Grandma doesn't mind a little spit. That's what the washing machine is for.

Nikolai: You think Grandma can teach Daddy how to have a stronger stomach? The first time he spit up on me, let's just say he wasn't the only one doing it.

Elena: *laughing* You didn't tell me that before.

Nikolai: It was a little embarrassing to admit. Mishka's like you, though. It doesn't seem to bother him, and he doesn't use a towel on his shoulder either.

Elena: It gets easier, I promise. Here, why don't you wash his face, and then maybe you can hang out with your father for a bit while I pack his bag.

Nikolai: Okay.

Mike: You were in there for a long time.

Nikolai: Sorry about that. Sasha had to eat, and Mama wanted to feed him, so I just stayed in there to talk. You could've came in too, if you wanted to.

Mike: It's fine. The cats were keeping me entertained.

Nikolai: They're not very good conversationalists.

Mike: Neither am I, so it worked out.

Nikolai: You shouldn't underestimate yourself. Being shy doesn't mean you have nothing to talk about.

Mike: Have I ever told you how much like your grandfather you are? That sounds like something he'd tell me.

Nikolai: Being told I'm like Grandpa is a compliment.

Mike: That's how I meant it. What's your mother still doing in Sasha's room, by the way? I thought you'd both be done in there.

Nikolai: She's putting some stuff together for him. I didn't have a chance to do it before you guys got here. Mishka needed me, and I was kind of frazzled trying to figure out how to do all the things by myself.

Mike: I guess it's a good thing that we're running off with the grandbaby, then.

Nikolai: As long as you bring him back.

Mike: You know your mother. She'd keep him forever if she thought she could get away with it.

Nikolai: She could, but then she'd have to keep Mishka too. It took some convincing for him to let you take Sasha for the night. If you don't bring him back tomorrow afternoon, I wouldn't put it past Mishka to come looking for him, sick or not.

Mike: We'll bring him back. If Mishka isn't feeling better by tomorrow evening, maybe your mother can stay here with you for a couple of days instead.

Nikolai: Could you manage by yourself? Like, with meals and everything?

Mike: Probably not, but you have a kitchen. I'd just come here to eat.

Nikolai: Why don't you just come and stay as well? That'd make more sense.

Mike: Well, if you insist...

Nikolai: *laughing*

Alexander: *giggling*

Mike: Did he just laugh too?

Nikolai: Yeah, he's been doing that for about a week now. He does it when he sees somebody he likes. Mishka, me, Beth-Anne... He goes wild when he sees Beth-Anne.

Elena: *from the doorway* Look what Grandma has, Sasha! It's your overnight bag.

Alexander: *excited squeaking*

Mike: I guess the sleepover is already off to a good start.

Nikolai: Sasha, you be good for Grandma and Grandpa, okay? Don't give them too much trouble. Papa and I will see you tomorrow.

Mike: Don't worry. We'll look after him, and I'm sure he won't give us any problems.

Nikolai: I know you'll take good care of him. We're going to miss him, that's all.

Elena: We'll call you in the morning so you can say hello. And you tell Mishka not to worry. He can FaceTime me as much as he wants.

Nikolai: I'll suggest he tries to keep the FaceTime calls to a reasonable amount.

Elena: What did I just say, Nikolai? As often as he wants. I don't want him to feel like he can't check in. That's not going to help him learn to trust us, is it? Better for him to call me twenty times to assure himself I'm taking care of his baby as well as he could than to give him a reason to think we don't want him to know what we're up to.

Nikolai: I guess you're right.

Elena: Of course I'm right. Eventually, Mishka won't be so upset about being away from Sasha, but you have to let him work up to that point. You shouldn’t rush him into anything.

Mike: Like all those kids you teach. You wouldn’t rush them.

Nikolai: Mishka isn’t a kid.

Elena: No, but all of this is new to him.

Nikolai: It’s new to me too.

Elena: It is, but he’s not as resilient as you. I think you imagine risks are like speed bumps. For him, I’d say he sees them more like mountains, and you’re going to need to let him climb at his own pace.

[sgiandubh]

Who are you ?

Dear (probably returning to piss me off) Nagging Anon,

This question is periodically asked. Last time I answered, briefly and cheekily (but honestly) was on July 17th: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/723050835494502400/who-are-you?source=share

I also doxed myself almost completely, lest you think you are talking to The Babushka Lady or a 55 years old grumpy Swedish man, and also to deny Mordor a comfortable upper hand into blackmailing or trying to scare me (keep running, bitches). With a bit of intellectual resources and two Google clicks (I promise exactly two clicks, not more), you can easily find the rest. Check the archives - they are chock-a-block full with clues.

I am who I always said I was. I see no interest in lying, even if this seems to be the national sport of Mordor.

Now, answers might diverge, if you ask...

*urv - 'the worst of the worst'

Marple - 'a nutcase, pretentious lawyer' (never took the bar path and I explained why in great detail)

Moo - 'an idiot'

Contemplating Outlander - 'a woman with no critical sense... is she really an attorney?'

All this spit and spite amuse me beyond measure. If they were in front of me, in full official capacity, I'd really like to see their faces.

Really.

Right now, I am a rather sleepy person, on an Athenian couch. Listening exactly to this (it's a random playlist, don't dream):

Happy? Sad? Confused?

[sunevial]

Reasons Why You Should Move To The Torn Veil

It's a night market

It's a giant, sprawling, night market full of people from a million worlds who have come to trade and to live and to rest and to find themselves

There's boats with people on them and the people on the boats in the river can sell you things

GOOD

PUBLIC

TRANSIT

A dragon runs the city

Specifically, an undead dragon, who turned her body into ice and now possesses both a giant dragon-sized suit of armor and a smaller humanoid shaped construct, runs the city guard

She gives paladins sworn to the city cool dragon weapons

And she's very excitable

YOU DON'T NEED A CAR. THE STREETCARS MIGHT BE HAUNTED, BUT YOU DON'T NEED TO PAY FOR CAR INSURANCE

There's good liches

Well, morally complex and slightly scary liches, but good liches

One of them runs a library. My friends think the lich that runs the library is hot (not wrong)

Vampire blood bars

Or blood in juice boxes if you prefer that

And art deco vampire speakeasies

These posts about the wildest oneshot I've ever ran will make more sense because I ran that oneshot in the Torn Veil

(i said more sense, not complete sense, the math my friends did still breaks my brain)

STREETCARS, NARROW ROADS THAT DON'T REALLY FIT HUGE CARS, GONDOLAS, FLYING CARRIAGES DRIVEN BY LICENSED PROFESSIONALS

Corner stores and restaurants from every culture, real or otherwise, serving foods that have existed forever and do not exist anymore

Memory river that lets you travel to a million different afterlives

Fishing in the memory river for memories

Slime Carriage Driver

ACCESSIBLE

DENSE

URBAN

HOUSING

I'm queer and mixed SEAsian and this is what happens when I'm allowed to be incredibly self indulgant

The answer is Haunted Spooky Less Fucked Up Sigil, apparently

The massive park full of nature spirits born from plants left at people's gravesites

Necrodancer rave clubs with ghosts playing EDM and power metal

Specifically made constructs that can house ghosts and other spirits, giving them back a semblance of agency after being violently separated from their bodies

Or cause they want a ghost mech

Pop off

CATACOMBS HOUSING SKELETONS FOR THE SKELETON WAR

THE CITY IS FIRMLY ON THE SIDE OF THE SKELETONS

BY THE WAY

IF THAT WASN'T ABUNDANTLY CLEAR

They're used for the defense of the city and are largely controlled by said necrodancers playing the EDM and power metal

It's always dusk

And a little chilly but in a nice way

Well, sometimes it's warmer, the dragon in charge of the city guard can also control the weather

She does that so the farmers can get rain

The skeletons also pick fruit on the farms btw

There's many uses for a skeleton and sometimes those uses are animating it so the skeleton can pick delicate fruit that has to be harvested by hand

A friend of mine loved this place so much that there was a real timeline where he ran a oneshot in the setting before I was able to run a oneshot in the setting

The oneshot took place in a place called the Dead n' Breakfast

It's run by a skeleton who's also a vampire

Her name is Constance

I love her

NO RENT

WHY IS THERE NO RENT YOU MAY ASK

WELL BECAUSE THE CITY JUST MAKES BUILDINGS AND NEW FLOORS TO APARTMENT BUILDINGS APPEAR OUT OF THIN AIR

(you do need to pay a little bit of tax though)

(because while the city has figured out how to make modern buildings, it has not figured out electricity or plumbing or streetcar rails)

btw the city is alive

kinda

sorta

hard to explain

Street Food

Every Street Food Ever

Like if you want some, it's there, and it's real nice and real cheap and sometimes people will just give you food for free

Sometimes a nice ghost makes it for you

Sometimes it's a skeleton babushka

The knowledge that there's other people caught between life and death, that there is a place for the lost and the wandering, that there is a place where life and death have different meanings and that complicated relationships with life and death can be a little less so, that families can reunite long, long after they were supposed to, that there is a place that calls the lost and calls them home and calls them somewhere that is safe, it is a place you can be finally safe

Ghost Macy's

[kafka-ohdear]

hello duck :D since i just came back from a grocery run 💀😭 for brenny and dougley post war or modern au (whatever) what's your thoughts on them going shopping for groceries?? i mean of course dougley is the old married coupleᵀᴹ type and brenny would take meatball with them for sure (yes unfortunately this is exactly what i was thinking when I went for groceries 💀💀)

idk what kind of coincidence is this but my mom just asked me to get some groceries when i was answering this ask 😭

!!!!! alright you got me when you hit send this ask 😈

tw: long ass and random post about my headcanons for them 😭,,,

*

for dougley, i think it's like:

- blakely pays. of course.

- blakely is (un)surprisingly good at choosing fruits & vegetables etc, and he is like a professional yk. he has everything planned out and follows the exact list. nothing more, nothing less.

- dougie? that man doesn't know what is a shopping list. he likes something, he'll buy it.

- maybe i'm delulu rn but i think dougie can literally buy anything (mostly candies and random stuff) because: one, he doesm't meed to pay under any circumstances; two, blakely likes to see him smiles when he gets his favourite treats.

- okay. the neckerchief. based on the fact that blakely handles grocery runs very well, i'm convinced that dougie has tried at least once to tie the neckerchief onto blakely's head in the babushka style (idk im sorry about my poor vocabulary 💀💀,,,).

- blakely didn't resist him doing so, but he's already working on the plot of his revenge on dougie (yes i'm talking about the "coquette" bow 💀...).

- the kids in the supermarket/grocery store likes them (😭 idk because blakely has the grandpa aura to me,,, and dougie surely loves playing with kids) so whenever the kids see them doing grocery, they'd wave at the couple and talk to them.

- blakely does most of the things, and dougie will help him with smaller stuff like putting the groceries into their vehicle or help him carry some of them back home.

- dougie would steal some of the treats or some random stuff when blakely is unpacking the bags, which usually is blakely's.

- blakely knows but he wouldn't say a thing but plots on his great revenge mission instead

*

and in my mind brenny would be like:

- they certainly would bring their child aka meatball along with them whenever they are going out for groceries.

- they have zero clue what to buy for their meals and end up taking loads of random stuff back home.

- brady like canned meat. demarco doesn't. they argue over the problem that demarco throws up whenever he smells canned meat, but brady always wins and gets to buy some because their beloved meatball likes canned meat as well.

- brenny is the kind of couple would buy ice cream or other small treats after getting groceries.

- hmmm i have a feeling they might take a walk around (somewhere near there idk,,,) so meatball could enjoy some fresh air before going home.

- BTW ABOUT THE CLOTHING. i think brady would dress kinda??? like a fashion icon??? and demarco would wear clothes like some random ass guy with white t-shirt and black shorts with some slippers,,,

- demarco packs & unpacks things for almost all the time while brady uses entertaining meatball as an excuse.

- demarco doesn't mind because he loves seeing his two favourite person (i kinda feel like he would refer to them as "creatures" to tease brady 💀) happy together,,,

*

i'm really sorry for this long ass post and shitty headcanons but 😭😭😭 i hope you like them,,,

[tropicalscream]

Atomic Heart starts the following in:

a slow walk through a AU Soviet Union Retro-Futurist paradise,

a flying car ride to a natural resort scientific facility run by robots who then all go haywire, try to kill you, almost do

but then ur unexpectedly saved by a Babushka Farmer who calles you (the Spec-Ops agent) "a fuckin idiot "

who theb fends of a an robot drone assualt armed only with a pitchfork and rocket launcher

as you fall down a plummeting elevator shaft only to hit the bottom at mach speed,

stand up light+smoke a cigarette saying "

wow that sure was fucked up huh?"

all speaking in russian language

11/10 best game

Atomic Heart answers the question "What if the Soviet Union was still around and made cheesy 1980's sci fi action movie starring Communist Brock Sampson"

the answet is a resounding "That would fuckin rule"

Maybe its the Venture Bros fan in me but its so cheesy, dumb and takes itself just srsly enough to be interesting .

[chekov-in-a-dress]

hello! sova headcannons (besides that he's a blonde bottom man who must be tormented)? also, thoughts on sova x chamber as a ship, if you have any?

(no pressure to answer immediately or at all. asks are for fun!)

Hello Hi Yes I am ALWAYS down to talk about this man so thank you very much for asking! ♥

Firstly, you have good taste my friend this man deserves to be topped and tortured.

So let's go through some basic background headcanons first, shall we.

Sova's parents either died when he was too young to properly remember them or when he was around 5-7, leaving him to be raised by his babushka

If his parents died later, I like the idea of Sova's mum having been either a soldier or an athlete (archery/shooting ofc) and being the one who got Sova his first bow / taught him how to shoot which is one of the reasons why he continued to practice and ultimately became a sniper since it makes him feel connected to his mother

His childhood is rather uneventful, maybe they're tight on money / struggling at times since they're living off what babushka can earn on the side and whatever pension they're receiving thanks to his parents so he learns at an early age how to forage/hunt to make ends meet

Joins the military as early as they allow because he figures this way he can get a stable income and support his babka at home as well, plus he'd be following in his mom's footsteps

He excels in the military, quickly being recognised for his exceptional aim and ends up in some kind of special forces where he gets to hone his skills further until he's established a reputation for himself

I like to think that it's during this time when he first meets Brimstone, maybe a joined OP with US special forces and they become fast friends, sprinkle a little mentorship in there, possibly Brim saving Sova's life disregarding his own safety

Which is why later when Brimstone is given the first order to form a special team, Sova is one of the first people he recruits and, of course, Sova instantly agrees

His feeling like he owes Brimstone only adds to his habit of overworking himself for the Val protocol because he will NOT disappoint Brim

He's a good little soldier, you tell him to jump he asks how high

Oh god I have so many headcanons for my sweet son, I could go on forever BUT you didn't ask for a novel so here's just a few random ones

Due to his military background he's one of the best hand-to-hand combatants in the protocol and takes over training the other, less experienced agents

He definitely has a soft spot for the younger agents, especially Gekko, Neon, KJ etc.

He pushes himself extra hard, insisting on running more simulations / practicing more than the others because he has to keep up with his Radiant/genius/augmented squad mates and preserve the only edge he has in this fight

Maybe he doesn't always wear his cybernetic eye because it sometimes overloads his brain/overstimulates him

NOW before I ramble on forever... you asked me about Chamber/Sova and let me tell you YES. Yes Good. I absolutely love Somber ♥ ( I wrote a little Somber OS at some point and I have at least five wips for them if only the writer's block didn't beat my ass all the time)

Not only do I personally think Chamber is hot and I want to see him play my babygirl like a fiddle but there's like so much potential. Because Chamber's easy, flirty nature is so different from Sova's, especially if you headcanon Sova as not having a whole lot of experience in the romantic/sexual department, which, chef's kiss tbh.

Plus, Chamber's more... grey-ish morality, his 'am I really on your team or are you just part of my plan' attitude, clashes so nicely with Sova who clearly follows a very rigid moral code.

I really love the idea of Chamber having a fun time getting under Sova's skin and the poor owl not having a single clue how to deal with it???

Don't get me started on Chamber using his indefinite resources to spoil Sova and Sova being so uncomfortable with all the fancy gifts...

Also guns. Let's talk about guns. Because I see Chamber's Tour de Force and I can't help but think 'what if he allows Sova to use it, or they get into a situation where Sova is forced to use it to protect them'?? How exactly do Chamber's powers work? Does he FEEL it when someone else touches his guns???? Is it an erogenous zone

I mean Chamber clearly respects Sova's skills (how could you not) and I just see him as the kind of man who sees something/someone he wants and then stops at nothing until it's HIS. Featuring Sova who is both confused by the blatant flirting and totally NOT down to indulge Chamber.

You can also go with the trope of Chamber being purely interested in getting Sova into bed playboy style while Sova is the 'i don't do one night stands if i date someone it's bc i'm serious aboutt hem' kinda guy. Chamber who is used to getting what he wants is both frustrated and determined to win him over to the point where he doesn't even realise he's developing actual feelings until it's too late~~ whoops~ (damn i wanna write that lowkey)

ANYWAY

Thanks again for asking lmao if you want you can join the bottom Sova server on discord where you can read through several dozen weird AU ideas or headcanons we came up with for Chamber/Sova amongst other ships lmaoo

[gammacousin]

Rebecca Banner Jr.: *answering the phone* “Hello?”

Melina Vostokoff: “My dear. Where is your mother?”

Young Rebecca Banner Jr.: “That sort of depends. She said if Uncle Tony calls, she's in the woods carrying an ax and just buried a body. If Tetya calls, she's on a date with daddy—”

Melina Vostokoff: “-What about me, h-h-honey?”

Young Rebecca Banner Jr.: “She told me to hang up, but we’re in too deep for that, babushka.”

[breninarthur]

lost (found) - nanw & xerxes

a sweet little drabble for oc kiss week, featuring a platonic kiss between my nanw mostyn, and @nirikeehan's xerxes, our d&d characters <3 (and alyosha's there too!)

210 words. Divider credit.

Xerxes stood in front of the tiny, moss-covered door, struggling to hold himself upright. He was exhausted, in pain, and barely knew what was going on. He hadn’t known where to run to, where to turn. He'd been utterly lost, until somehow, he’d found himself at Nanw’s cottage.

It didn’t take long for her to answer after he'd knocked softly.

“Xerxes! Where have you been?” the old halfling smiled at him, as if he’d popped out to get some milk and taken an hour or two too long.

“Oh, you know,” he grinned, swaying on his feet. “Prison.”

“Oh dear,” Nanw replied mildly. “Well, I’m glad you’re here now. I’m just making some mushrooms on toast, would you two like some?”

Xerxes laughed. “What do you think, Alyosha? Hungry?”

The little ferret perked up immediately, chattering hungrily from their hiding spot in his coat.

“We would love some,” he said, ducking through the doorway as Nanw happily stepped aside.

“It's good to see you,” she said warmly, reaching up her wizened arms to hug him, despite the filth on his clothes and the general state of him.

“It is good to see you too, babushka,” he muttered, bending down to return her embrace and kiss her on the cheek.

Safe.

[lorei-writes]

Omg Lorei, I desperately need to know what Kicho wears to bed 😝

(Or if you don’t write/hc for him…maybe Mitsuhide instead!)

Eyo!

I don't really write Kicho, but hey! It's a weekend party, so let's try anyway. Two for the price of one deal!

Kicho

Based on his appearance alone, I think he doesn't sleep all that much. It is just a conjecture, but I personally wouldn't be surprised if it got worse over time, with the timeline of Sen Act II being the peak of his sleeplessness. He's dealing with many not so nice people to put it lightly, after all. It wouldn't be safe to let his guard down for too long, especially not with the Oda after him...

With all that in mind, I think he may not have any designated nightwear, at least not unless he's really unwell and resting. I'd guess that his sleeping schedule consists of a series of naps caught throughout the day (possibly when he cannot avoid falling asleep), still dressed in his normal attire.

Mitsuhide

Ah, I think practicality in the face of danger wins with this one too. He probably undresses just to his underkimono layer (hadajuban?) and sleeps in that. The plainest yukata under the sun (so plain the sun wonder how it appeared under the sun; the answer is Mitsuhide Akechi and his spending habits on anything that's not a necessity) if he's feeling fancy.

As for why... Well, he not only cannot keep himself fed (random leaves and surprise bowls of possibly eldrich origins do not count), he naps. Like a cat. And cats sleep like those very devoted babushkas occupying front row seats in the church -- just lightly enough to say "Amen" and nod along.

It is just fast. It might have been faster (and more convenient) to sleep in the nude. However, in case of ambush, that poses the threat of having his... shlong. Wonder rod. Drill head.

cut off. clean. or not clean. not that it'd matter.

The point is, it's probably good to have something in the way there to prevent excessive dingly-dangling.

Weekend Party

[maridotnet]

Get to know you game! Answer the questions and tag 9 people you want to know better.

:DD aww omg thank you @bittersweetresilience for the tag, i'm so proud of myself for actually seeing it lolol

Last song listened to: something by fleetwood mac? probably Silver Springs or Edge of Seventeen! I've been working my way through their music lately, presumably in preparation for my male manipulator era

Currently watching: Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Currently reading: The Way of Kings and a book of poetry my sister got me for Christmas, also my textbooks for the semester :')

Currently obsessed with: writing things by hand, hot water bottles at the foot of my bed, a jar of caramel my friend made me, dipping bread in soup, wearing silk scarves over my head babushka-style for protection against the wintry humidity

@yunyin @mozzygan @nemaliwrites @pisoprano @celestialtitania @torvalvt @rosekasa @monpetitchattriste @kasienda @i-wiggle-i-squirm-bc-i-am-a-worm

[mollymauk-teafleak]

darlin', darlin'

This was an anniversary present for my wonderful gf @nb-fearne. We both wrote each other icemav fics inspired by Jerry Maguire scenes so if that doesn't tell you why we've been together for six years, nothing will. Love you baby 💙

Please reblog and go leave a comment on Ao3 if you liked this!

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As far as weddings that weren’t weddings went, Tom thought it had gone pretty well. 

All day long and well into the night, their little house had been full of noise, laughter and music and clinking glasses. But now the record on their old player had finally wound down and no one was replacing it. The plates and glasses were piled up on nearly every flat surface and all the guests had staggered home. Expect for a handful who hadn’t made it past the couches.

Tom was hardly surprised, he even came prepared. He moved through the living room as quietly as he could, arms full of the blankets he’d set aside, dodging abandoned wine glasses and kicked off high heels to cover the snoozing Kerner twins, their mother who was slumped over the arm of the couch, her hand stretched out to loosely entwine with Slider’s, who looked like he’d fallen from a great height to collapse in Ice’s armchair. One for his sister, Sarah, whose face looked less like his own when it was gentle and relaxed in sleep, though she curled up in the same tight ball he did. Another for Carole, curled up on the floor in a tight little ball, her head pillowed on Alice Kerner’s jacket and one arm draped with a natural protectiveness over little Bradley. 

Sundresses instead of gowns, linen shirts and jeans instead of suits and definitely instead of navy whites, a room full of exhausted parents spending what was left of the morning sleeping off cheap beer rather than a lavish hotel. Their wedding that wasn’t a wedding and it had very little of the things that made an actual wedding. 

But Tom wouldn’t have traded it for anything. 

Once their guests were as comfortable as he could make them, he whipped around and gathered as much cutlery and glassware as he could carry without dropping it and undoing all the hard work he and the booze and food had done. It wasn’t far to their tiny little kitchen where he was a little unsurprised to find his new sort of husband with his shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows, wrist deep in dish suds. He’d promised to be on his best behavior after all. 

Maverick caught the movement in the corner of his eye and turned with that brilliant smile, not even dimmed with how long he'd been awake, “Hey, baby. Everyone out for the count in there?”

Like always, Ice couldn’t keep from smiling back if his life had depended on it, “Quietest I’ve ever seen those Kerner girls. And that includes Alice.”

“If I ever want you dead, I’ll tell her you said that,” Mav winked, “Come on, stick those dishes in here, I’ll do them.”

Tom did, moving to grab a dish towel instead, ready to do his part. He nodded towards the water and chuckled, “Don’t lose your ring in there, you only just got it.”

“Thought of that!” Maverick lit up like a school kid with the right answer, catching his dog tags on one sudsy thumb and showing off his wedding ring, dangling there on the chain alongside the steel stamped with his name.

Ice beamed, leaning and pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Smart and pretty. Good thing I locked you down when I did, Mitchell.”

Mav nudged him with his hip, grinning, “I’m basically the whole package…I was thinking I could maybe keep it on there? Say it was my mother’s if anyone asks?”

Tom fought for his smile to stay in place, to keep the sudden pain confined to his own rib cage. Everything he knew told him even that small lie, that wink and nod, was too much. It was skirting far too close to the lines he’d drawn around parts of himself. Tom had been planning to keep his own ring well out of sight, he was wearing it today but after that it was going in the same box he kept all his precious weak points- his babushka’s recipe book, sheet music done in his mother’s shaky hand, the drawing his sister Sarah had done in preschool when she’d been asked to draw her family and had only done the two of them, side by side. In Tom’s mind, hiding was safe. Hiding was the only way. 

But that fear was his own and Tom was determined to keep it that way. He wouldn’t clip Mav’s wings, certainly not today. 

“That would be sweet,” was all he said, kissing his cheek again because he just had no other answer to Maverick’s reckless bravery, “Come on, we should really get these dishes done before we go to the airport…”

Mav laughed, “So we’re just giving up on the idea of going to bed, huh?”

Tom waved his hands, indicating the clock on the wall, the rising sun outside and the living room full of sleeping friends in one swoop, “I’ll owe you a wedding night.”

“Hey,” Mav’s eyes softened and he nudged him again, “We’ve got every night for the rest of our lives, baby. I’m easy.”

And they really did. The words they’d said to each other, out there in their tiny backyard with the ocean rolling behind them, didn't mean anything legal and Tom had little faith they ever would. There were no contracts or documents to back up that ring hanging there alongside Mav’s dog tags. But like Maverick himself had said, when they’d come up with this a month ago, curled up together in a tangle of blankets and limbs and crazy ideas, a wedding was just a party. You got everyone you loved in one room, or at least as many as you could, and you told them all hey, I’m nuts about this guy and I want to be with him forever. If the government was honestly happy for them to risk their lives but not while openly loving each other, then they- in Maverick’s words- could go fuck themselves. They weren’t getting an invite. 

Tom didn’t need Mav to write his name on a piece of paper to know he loved him. He trusted his wingman. 

Suddenly, getting the dishes done didn’t seem all that important. The old record player was still sitting in the corner, half covered under the bomber jacket Maverick had thrown aside after enough dancing to flush his cheeks. But he knew the disc he wanted wouldn’t be in the pile stacked up next to it, threatening to topple over and slide onto the tile. Those were all party tunes, songs from their teenage years they were dragging into this new decade, songs for Slider to pick Alice up and swing her around to, songs for little Bradley to bounce around to with his mama’s hands in his own. But Tom wanted something slightly different. 

“Thanks for your support!” Mav called out sarcastically as he watched him disappear into the hall where the shelves of books and CDs and vinyls were neatly arranged by type then genre then color. 

By Tom, naturally. He’d once caught Mav putting a CD in the wrong case just because it happened to be closer. And somehow he’d married him. 

“Something occurred to me,” Tom said airily, coming back with the record he wanted, setting it into the player before Mav could see what it was. They had it on CD too but Tom would always prefer the way vinyls crackled, “Besides, Slider can do the dishes when he wakes up. I’m mad at him for that speech.”

“Because he made you cry?” Mav smirked, wiping off his hands. 

“Maybe,” Tom grunted, gently setting the needle down. 

“I thought it was adorable…so what occurred to you?”

After that static scratch and pop, there was that smooth, rhythmic plucking of strings, like the notes were going down a set of stairs, accompanied by those bright, happy barks of brass. Stand by Me, the original Ben E. King version naturally, Mrs Rosie Mitchell’s favorite and the one of the many soul tracks that had scored Maverick’s childhood. One of the ones he claimed to have gotten sick of but he’d still always reach for when he was given the chance. 

Tom turned and offered out his hand, “We never got a first dance?”

And it was true, after they’d said whatever they wanted to say to each other out there in the yard, after Slider’s best man speech had made Tom cry and Carole’s had made Maverick laugh so hard he blew champagne out of his nose, they’d all just piled back inside to drink and dance and sing. It had been a brilliantly hectic whirlwind since then, this was probably the first time Tom and Mav had been alone since they’d kissed under the rosewood tree out back. 

But this was one part of a traditional wedding Tom thought he’d like to have. And if the smile on his face was anything to go by, Pete agreed. 

Two steps brought Maverick into his arms, just as the words began. He placed a hand on the small of his back, the other joined with his husband’s in a loose hold. Neither of them were really dancers, they couldn’t manage more than a simple step and sway without their legs getting tangled or knocking into the counter, but that hardly mattered. As Ben E. King sang about how he wouldn’t be afraid, the golden sunrise painted the two of them into a Klimt, into something more than beautiful. Something that didn’t need to be seen to know how precious it was. 

Tom found himself humming along without even realizing, formless sounds that became words as his heart ran away and left his usual nerves behind, as Mav’s hair tickling his nose and their fingers threading together became much more important than how he sounded. Maverick beamed and tucked his head in against his husband’s chest, so he could feel the words as well as hear them. He always insisted he loved his husband’s voice, as hard as Tom found it to believe, always asking him to sing for him when he was feeling under the weather or in the quiet moments when that incessant Maverick branded energy finally wound down and he became soft and clingy. One of those things Tom was prepared to do for Maverick and only Maverick.

And he sang for him now, gladly, not caring that his voice was rough with beer and the lack of sleep or that he dropped out of lines to kiss Mav’s forehead. There were so many things Tom struggled to say, simply because he hadn’t been taught they existed, let alone how to put them into words. So he sang them instead, he rubbed small circles into the small of Mav’s back instead. And he trusted his husband would hear them all the same. 

Tom didn’t quite know what he was going to do when the song finally ended. Of course it said something about him that he was here in this warm, loving moment and already worrying about when it would end but Tom wasn’t about to linger on that. Not on his wedding day. 

But as he was inhaling the amber smell of Mav’s cologne and that edge of jet fuel he never seemed to lose, as he was singing in his rough rumble to ask him to stand by him whenever they were in trouble, there was the sound of footsteps. Footsteps that weren’t swaying over slightly cracking linoleum. 

Tom lifted his head, chuckling as he watched a tuft of blonde, curly hair waver behind the counter like a submarine periscope. 

“Mr Bradley Bradshaw, you have not slept long enough to be on your feet,” he laughed, watching the tuft come to a guilty stop. 

A set of blue eyes peered up over the edge of the counter, “Sun’s up!”

“The sun may be up but you went to bed at three in the morning,” Maverick snorted with laughter, peeking up at him in a similar way over Tom’s shoulder.

Bradley’s gap toothed smile followed his eyes, “I can’t sleep…”

Tom kissed Mav’s cheek and let him go with some reluctance, going to lean on the counter so he could see the kid grinning up at him, wobbling on his tiptoes. His hair was a cloud of curls, so blonde in the sunlight that they seemed white, like he was wearing a halo along with crumpled overalls and striped socks. 

“How about your mama, is she still asleep?”

Bradley nodded, “I tucked her in!”

“You’re a good kid,” Tom reached across to pick him up, swinging him safely into his arms, his heart warming as Bradley laughed and clung to him. 

“Whatcha doing?” his little fist grabbed for the chain of Tom’s dog tags like a reflex, the way he did with Mav too. 

The way he’d probably done with Goose.

“We’re dancing,” Mav grinned, coming up and poking his cheek lightly, “It’s our wedding, you see.” 

Bradley made a sleepy grab for his finger, “Nah…that was yesterday…now it’s today…”

“Well, that's the fun thing, you see,” Maverick could have pulled back easily but he let himself be caught in the toddler’s free hand, “After you have your wedding, you get to be married to that person forever and ever. And you get to dance in the kitchen every morning, if you feel like it.”

Tom could hear the record crackling as the needle scraped through empty valleys and came to a halt. He smiled.

“And you get to go on vacations together. Which we’re leaving for in a half hour and I’m guessing you haven’t packed yet?” he grinned at Maverick. 

Mav did in fact blush lightly and laugh, “Yeah…I’ll go get on that…”

He gave Bradley a kiss on the cheek, Tom a longer one on the lips before heading off to the stairs, still whistling Stand By Me. 

Bradley seemed to have no desire to get down from Tom’s arms, though maybe he wasn’t quite as awake as he thought, yawning against the shoulder of his dress shirt before mumbling, “Can I come on vacation?”

Tom chuckled, “I don’t think we’ll be doing anything you’d find fun, kiddo.”

In fact, he had very few plans when they got to the little rental on a Hawaiian beach, chosen mostly for its seclusion rather than its luxury, beyond closing the door, pressing Maverick into the bed and fucking him every which way he could think of. Maybe reading some poetry books while his husband caught his breath. 

Bradley huffed softly, his grip tightening, “But you’ll be gone so long…gone forever…”

Tom held the kid a little tighter. He knew Bradley was too young to be so used to goodbyes, too young to know how ‘gone for a while’ could turn into ‘gone forever’. He pulled back so he could take Bradley’s hand in his own, helping him put up five fingers. 

“This is how many days we’ll be gone, kid. And then we’ll come home. I promise.”

Bradley fluttered his five fingers, humming thoughtfully, “That’s not so many?”

Tom smiled, “Nah. We’ll be back before you know it and I’ll even bring you back something cool.”

“When you come back,” Bradley nodded, still clutching that thought like a talisman. 

“When we come back,” Tom closed his little fist, holding it safe within his own so the promise held fast, “Everything we love is here.”

Bradley held onto that as Tom coaxed him back into his mama’s arms, back into the sleep which the toddler was clearly losing the fight to. He certainly seemed pleased as a still sleeping Carole wrapped her arms around him and brought him close, burying his face against her as Tom gently fixed the blanket back around them. 

He took a moment to glance around the room again, making sure that everyone was sleeping soundly. The twins were still curled around each other like puppies, Alice and Slider’s fingers were still loosely threaded together like even crashed out on their friend’s couch, they were looking for each other. Tom smiled as he took his house key off the ring and left it by his RIO’s head. 

By then, Maverick was waiting for him at the door, bags at his feet, whispering, “Ready to go?”

Tom grinned, lifting the man he loved right off his feet, muffling his soft noise of surprise with a searing kiss. 

“I’m very ready.”

Carrying Maverick to the car, stealing kisses between half hearted protests and laughter, Tom took a brief glance back at the house, dark and silent now but full of everything and everyone he loved, the life that was hidden but safe for all that. 

Maybe he didn’t have to be afraid of what would happen when the song ended. 

Maybe Tom could just believe there would always be another. 

[sylviareviar]

Okay, so just to let everyone know, I guess I should give some context for why I've been a bit more active lately.

First of all, my mom left about a week ago for Israel to tend to her mother-- my grandmother, Babushka Sveta-- who had fallen (multiple times, and she even HID it from us!) and landed in the hospital needing an emergency surgery on her lungs.

Babushka Sveta told my mom she was fine, over and over, and when my mom asked, "Aren't you scared to go into surgery?" Babushka couldn't give a proper answer.

She was scared, and she died scared. After the operation, she was intubated so she could be fed through her neck. In trying to remove the tube, she became unstable, so they had to do another operation to try and save her life.

The doctor had other patients to attend to, so the operation was delayed by two days. After they finally got to her, they said it may take her a few days to wake up.

A few days passed. Today, she passed away roughly an hour ago as of writing this post.

Meanwhile, while my mom had been away in Israel, I had been left alone with my younger sibling to take care of and feed them. They're only two years younger than me (so, they're grown-up), but they have joint problems and depression, and it's difficult for them to care for themself without external prodding. I've been making sure they at least eat breakfast and dinner, since they have an aversion to food as well.

Up until now, I've been trying to keep myself happy so I could take care of my sibling, manage upkeep of the house AND us both, as well as keeping up with homework. That's why I've been so active on Tumblr lately; my muse came back and I've been trying to be a lot more attentive to myself.

Long story short: Babushka Sveta just passed away, so I may be a bit more selective with posts right now. I also may be even more active or less active, I have no idea. But I'm not going to stop RPing because I need the distraction right now. Sorry for not saying anything sooner, everyone.

[ggebba]

Im not sure if you are familiar with him or not but is Klim Kostin a tatar muslim as well? I’ve noticed from some of his previous ig stories that he went to one of his cousins/childhood friend’s wedding (unsure) and one thing i realized that most of his female relatives were wearing the hijab (definitely wasnt tied in the usual babushka style.

Hi 👋 Klim Kostin is an Orthodox Christian. I don't know which storyis you're talking about (I hardly ever go on Instagram), but in Russia Christians, Muslims and other different religions live and coexist peacefully.

And not to be unsubstantiated, I'll give an example, in the form of an excerpt from Klim's interview about religion:

-You seem very religious. Even the screen saver on your phone has a cross on it. How'd you come by it?

- My mom's very religious. She doesn't miss Sunday services, she can go on a weekday. Especially during the playoffs. A bishop I know, a big hockey fan, is always watching me. They pray that everything goes well for me.

I also try to thank God when something works out, and when it doesn't - to ask (for help). I believe that everything that works out is with God's help.

- Did you take communion?

- After moving to Moscow at the age of 11, I came to Penza every year and took communion before my birthday. The last time I took communion was in St. Louis. And now I'm back in Russia, and something distracts me. I think I will go, but I never get there.

- What is it like in churches in North America? Do they read the prayers in Russian or in English?

- In the Orthodox church in Edmonton, the service was in English. In St. Louis - in Russian. In Los Angeles there are a couple of churches where the service is purely in Russian. And there are some where they combine them, and the service lasts four hours instead of two. First they read in Russian, then in English. I was there, but I didn't make it to the end.

In Edmonton, I used to say morning prayers before practice and night prayers before bed. I usually spent about five minutes. I asked the priest if I could shorten the prayers so that I didn't have to read for 40 minutes. He said that what you believe and what is in your heart is enough.

- When you pass by churches, do you baptize every time?

- Yes, always. It has become a habit and sometimes I don't even notice it. It scares some people.

The full interview in Russian: https://www.sports.ru/amp/post/3173499/

It feels like all hockey players from Penza are very religious 😁

I hope I answered your question ☺️

[despazito]

I just saw (on Reddit so huge bowl of salt) a convo about domestic chickens "having to be put down" because they started eating their eggs and that they will refuse to eat anything else after getting a taste and there's "no going back" this sounds super weird and incorrect but trying to search for an answer just pulls up arguments about humans eating eggs

Wtf that's not true at all. If chickens are eating their own eggs constantly it could be a sign they're missing something in their diet or arent being fed enough, or even just doing it out of boredom. There's literally so many interventions before culling like a tilted nest box that collects eggs.

My babushka would feed newborn chicks hardboiled egg as their first meal, the idea that once they have a taste for egg they won't eat anything else is absurd. They could probably use extra protein+calcium and some boredom busters.