#because I'm tired of feeling like a deflated tire lol

[artemismatchalatte]

I remember cosplaying as a teen. I used to mostly dress as male characters just because the girl's outfits were usually too short/revealing that I wouldn't feel comfortable in. It was fun wearing suits and men's clothing.

I thought of it again last night even though I gave up cosplaying a WHILE ago because I'm not really into anime any more.

However, in college, I very nearly went out for a student drag show. I had a persona and everything. I backed out at the last second. Not proud of that, but it's what I did.

But the idea just kind of sat with me and has come back to me a few times since then.

There was a joke my friend and I had. He made a fake drag persona to go with mine. I don't think he thought I was serious but I think I might have been.

[heartswithinreach]

your post about sylus essentially conditioning the reader to sit on his lap hasjsakddf that was so perfect and in character 😭 i love it sm its given me so much brain rot - how bout this:

can i request the lads boys reaction to the reader randomly asking to be carried/picked up in the middle of walking? for no other reason just to see how'd they react lol

LaDS casually carrying MC

Xavier

The most casual. He just smiles at you and asks, "Bridal or piggyback?" in the same tone as if he's asking what you want to eat.

And he's not just playing along. He means it. He wants to be the one you lean on — metaphorically and literally.

You can try and backtrack but then you'll get those eyes. The bluest puppy dog eyes that can break the strongest of wills. "Are you sure? We still have a few blocks to go to the café, I don’t want you to get tired..."

You feel like you're holding out on him by not letting him carry you. The mind tricks this man is capable of to get what he wants are ridiculous.

You fold embarrassingly fast and Xavier is happy as can be with you on his back, your arms and legs around him like a full-body embrace. He can see the tactical advantage to carrying you like this during missions, too.

Rafayel

"You want me to carry you?“ Rafayel scoffs. “What if I pulled a muscle in my arm and couldn't draw for a week? No thank you!"

He refuses until you ask if it's not that he doesn't want to carry you, but that he can't.

Now you've wounded his pride. He might not be the God of the Sea anymore, but he can't let this go unanswered! Rafayel will be on you relentlessly to let him pick you up, no matter how long it takes.

"Whoa, be careful, cutie! There's no telling how deep these puddles are from all the rain — you're super lucky your boyfriend is here to carry you to safety."

When you finally break and let him do it just so he can prove a point, he realizes he likes this way more than he thought he would. You're like his adorable little prisoner and the only way you're getting out is in praise and smooches. This will become a regular thing, I fear.

Zayne

“I told you to wear more comfortable shoes.”

Zayne inwardly grins at how quickly you deflate at his blunt response. It's adorable.

But Zayne has a hard time denying you something so innocent as wanting to be close to him. So he guides your arm to wrap around his shoulders and picks you up with a strength that always takes you by surprise.

He waits for you to settle comfortably in his arms before he starts walking. He's aware of the disapproving stares from the people around you and not too long ago, he would've been one of them. How quickly his perspective has changed because of you.

Zayne is brought out of his thoughts when he feels you peck his cheek and now you get that oh so familiar look of gentle reproach from him. "I am working on being more affectionate but I'm not there yet, MC. Now, behave or your ride will end early."

Sylus

Sylus is so caught off guard that, for once, you can see his entire thought process play out through his expressions.

Surprise at your request, suspicion you're just toying with him, the realization you're being somewhat serious, and then the most gratified look you've ever seen on his stupid smug face.

Now you’re speaking his language. So delighted you’re finally catching on, he just picks you up and continues on his way without breaking his stride.

However, you didn't specify how he should carry you. So you're draped over Sylus's shoulder and to keep you there, his hand is dangerously high up on your thigh for being in public. The smack on your ass is so inevitable, you can feel it like it's already happened.

"You just said you were tired, now you want me to put you down? You need to learn to make up your mind, kitten. I'll just carry you until you're sure of what you want."

[nnight-dances]

ONE KISS, ONE LOVE

PAIRING: park wonbin x fem!reader

GENRE: fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive dialogue but nothing explicit

TROPES: established relationship!au, idol!wonbin, age gap vibes but no real mention, reader babies wonbin like he deserves to be, texts at the end, just sickening sweet stuff

WATCH: wonbin's night routine

NOTE: inspired by the video above! once again, these wonbin fics write themselves ... he might be my favorite boy to write rn or maybe that's just my way of coping!! anyway don't be surprised if i just start spamming u with the wonbin fics i just have too many good ideas. but they're all gonna be set in this same established relationship style, he's just so bf coded lol... anyway, enjoy <3

you've been in bed for a good twenty, clad in cream pyjamas and skincare intact, when you hear the frontdoor open – signalling your boyfriend, wonbin's arrival. you pause the video you're watching on your phone and sit up to greet him, "bin? welcome home." his heavy footsteps stop where his figure finally comes into your view.

wonbin looks wiped out, no doubt, eyes shadowed by his somnolent lashes. he stares at you for a moment before humming, the sound halfway between a thank god you're here and i could die right now. he peels his layers off with speed, black leather jacket hung up on the tree-shaped rack near your closet and his other outerwear finding its place on the small cabinet next to it.

you watch fondly as even in his fatigue, he patiently makes sure no outside clothes pollute the bed. as soon as he's in nothing but his white tee and boxers though, he jumps onto you, deflating the air out of you like a body pillow.

"hello," he mumbles, face disappearing into your chest where he snuggles closer. 

"hi, love," you welcome him warmly, fingers carding through his hair as a force of habit. you breathe against his limp body, letting him unwind on top of you as he often does. it's a silent activity, a night routine of sorts for wonbin on his longest days. he'd trudge home and settle close to you, wordlessly like a cat looking for soothing. 

sometimes, you talked to him about your day and he'd hum along, eyes on yours telling all you needed to hear. other times, you would go back to doing whatever you were doing – watching a show, playing a game, or talking to a friend – while he recharged. he even insisted it worked best when you were just doing your own thing.

today, you do neither. setting your phone aside, you occupy yourself with wonbin himself, first meandering through his charcoal hair and then trailing down to his neck, tracing hearts and stars into his skin. you can feel him relaxing under your touch, his face finally coming back into your vision. 

"tired," wonbin says, voice coarser than ever. "need to sleep." 

"i know, baby," you croon, "wanna wash up first?"

he shakes his head adamantly, "no. sleepy."

you laugh softly, "angel, i'm sure you are but you can't sleep with your makeup on, can you?"

"had a few drinks with taro hyung," he murmurs as if that explains his behavior.

"really? you had time after practice?"

"he snuck it into practice. beer after all that sweating was nice."

"wow, look at you," you muse, hand brushing his bangs out of his eyes, "you sound like an old man."

"i am," wonbin pouts, "let the old man go to sleep."

"sorry, love, i can't do that," you say.

"rude."

"say what you will," you sit up fully, pulling your sluggish boyfriend with you. ignoring his groans, you kiss his nose, "wash up, okay? can't have my rockstar breaking out because he was too lazy to wash his face before bed."

he groans again but this time it's an endearment, his kiss on your cheek disguising his smile. "but i can't move, y/n. please."

"i'll help you," you snake out of the sheets, squatting as you heave wonbin out as well. he stands up unwillingly, head wilting like a sad flower. you laugh, pulling him toward the washroom, "will you listen if i do all the work?"

that gets the job done alright because two minutes later, wonbin's settled against the sink with you between his legs. you crane around his tall limbs to reach for his products, having memorized his night skincare by now. 

cleansing balm in hand, you carefully cover every inch of his face, the makeup turning into oil gradually. "okay, babe, now rinse your face for me."

"you said you'd do all the work!" he complains without missing a beat. 

you glare at him, "i can't possibly wash your face without making a mess of both of us."

"sounds like an excuse to me."

sulking, he turns around, washing the balm off. next, you go in with his foam cleanser, gently circling his cheeks and forehead. despite all his earlier declarations, he watches you attentively, his hand loosely clasped around your waist to keep you in place. you have to scold him midway at one point when he gets cheeky and sneaks a hand down your pyjamas, feeling the hem of your panties. 

eventually, you dry his face off with a hand towel. "there," you peck his cheek, "all clean."

when he doesn't let go of your waist, you raise a brow at him. "you only love me when i'm clean," he scowls, "don't you?"

you narrow your eyes at his tantrum, "i think you're forgetting how i'm sacrificing my screen time before bed to clean you up right now."

he looks unconvinced as he tails you out of the bathroom. he's about to throw himself back onto the bed when you stop him by his hand. "change first," you explain, pulling out fresh pyjamas and throwing them at him. 

wonbin stands idly and it's only when he starts raising his arms up that you realize he wants you to do it. you sigh, "bin, you're such a baby today." but you smile as you pull his shirt off, disregarding the way he instantly flexes when he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. slipping his pyjamas on, a piece at a time, you clap when he's done.

"i would make a great mother," you pat yourself on the back.

"you can adopt me if you want," he shrugs and you snicker, "i don't think i need to." 

"you want anything to eat before you sleep?" you ask as if you hadn't quite literally brushed his teeth. "chocolate," he says without any conviction and you roll your eyes at him, watching as he launches himself at the bed.

"quick, come here," wonbin whines. you pad over to your side of the bed and join him, giggling when his body curls around you instantly. his nose finds its indent against your neck this time, cold and fresh. 

for a minute, you think that's all you'll hear out of your boyfriend for the night. but it's just as you're about to reach for your phone when he speaks up again, "sorry if i'm boring."

you're not sure if your ears hear right, "what?"

but his voice is solemn, "...i'm probably kinda boring lately. so i'm sorry."

you turn on your side to face him completely, hand coming to rest against his cheek. "bin, you idiot. you coming home is the best part of my day."

"really? even though i'm too dead to do anything?" he perks up but his eyes gloomy, "we don't even fuck anymore. or go to the movies. or go out at all."

you laugh, "you're making us sound like an old couple on the verge of divorce, baby. you're just busier because of your comeback! i'm so excited and you should be, too."

"i am. but i don't want bore you."

"you don't, though. i'm lucky enough i get to see you at night and take care of you when i can. plus, it's not like you won't have more time after your promotions, right? we can do everything you want then."

wonbin blinks at you, his cool hand finally coming to meet yours where it was still caressing his cheek. he kisses your palm, "thank you. i'm glad."

"of course, love. now, go to sleep or you'll regret it tomorrow," you chirp, rolling over and shutting the lights off quickly.

"...you really would be a great mom," wonbin laughs at your behavior. 

"good night, wonbin."

"good night, mom."

you hit his arm at his brazenness but when he just laughs again, the sound is too sweet for you to even pretend to be mad. so instead, you hug him closer, hand on his bicep and his legs tangled with yours. 

–

bin: I AM FREE AT LAST

bin: FROM THE SHACKLES OF IT

you: …

you: how would ur fans react if i leaked our texts

you: so much for being mysterious

you: "shackles of it" boy have you ever touched a book

bin: okay so you're rude today

bin: i miss y/n mom version

you: ew?? if u have a kink i dont think this is gonna work

bin: because…? 

you: is sungchan still single

bin: i was kidding! haha!

you: ok.

bin: seriously tho let's do smth fun 2nite

you: i get off work late today :(

bin: whatttt you have a life outside of me :0

you: do you WANT me to break up with you???

bin: what i meant was i will be there to pick you up <3

you: wtv man idgaf anymore

bin: noooo

bin: i'll do anything you want don't be mad

you: anything?

bin: well other than leaking our texts ofc

you: i want to live together

bin: ???

bin: we alr do

you: wonbin 

you: baby

you: you just always come over to my place

bin: i sleep there it's my home wdym

you: and you still pay the bills for your place?

bin: i don't make that bag for nothing

you: ok so what if we lived together instead

bin: but i really like your place!!

you: i do too

you: let's make it our place 

bin: shit

bin: i just actually blushed irl

you: :) 

you: is that a yes

bin: i want to marry you

you: okay well let's calm down

bin: did u just reject me

you: i'm telling u that you're gonna regret proposing through text

bin: i love u and i want u to be my wife

bin: omg i just shed a tear at the thought of calling u that

bin: wife…. im changing ur contact name

bin: or should i change it to fiancée? since we havent yet tied the knot

you: park wonbin

you: we are 20 years old

bin: untrue

bin: im 22 

you: i am not marrying you right now

bin: … is there someone else

you: i'm not marrying anyone right now

bin: ok so i'm not husband material

you: you are

bin: i'm not father material? you: no comment

you: but we aren't ready babe

you: let's take it slow k?

you: just move in first

you: we have so many memories to make

bin: you're such a flirt

you: ??? u just asked me to marry you but sure

bin: i'll be moved in by the time you come back home

you: i thought you were picking me up

bin: that was before u asked me to move in

bin: now i have to bring all my stuff over

bin: which side of your closet can i use? bin: also thoughts on letting me keep my rock collection next to your figurines?

you: right side and no

bin: wow u didnt even think about it

you: imagine we get into a fight

bin: i refuse to

you: i'm just saying i would be tempted to throw them rocks at u

bin: you would do that????

you: depending on what u do

bin: why are you expecting me to do anything at all????

you: …experience

bin: wow

you: to be loved is to be known

bin: you can't flatter me now

you: i love you 

bin: …

bin: i love you too

[whirlwindimagines]

I wanna give vash a comforting head pats and some loving head scritches, tell him he has been working hard and needs to rest sometimes, the world not going anywhere, he can rest. May I request a scenario of vash sad he didn’t save everyone again and is sad, so reader hesitately reaches up to his head before deciding to give him a head pat, telling him he did his best with the circumstances he had, it’s not his fault for being unable to save absolutely everyone, and all that matters is he saved at least someone, and that’s enough? Plz and thanks

Okay but same ;p; Like let me hold Vash and tell him everything is gonna be okay! Studio orange let Vash be happy challenge, please. I’m a little sad, so lol this reflects that for sure This definitely got out of hand and turned into something else 

Lol you can tell I wrote this after my therapy session.

‘I’ll stare directly at the sun, but never in the mirror’

Vash x Reader

You wonder how Vash can continue like this, the gunfight had been as usual destructive and deadly. Neither of you made out of it unscathed and the town had suffered as well, it broke your heart how much Vash tried to make things right. How he didn't want to hurt anyone or let anyone get hurt, but you can't save anyone and especially not alone. 

Vash had gone off on his own, he checked you for injuries and was distressed to find one. You brushed him off, saying you were fine and that you would take care of it and now you have no idea where he went. He wouldn't leave you here by yourself, you weren't worried about that. But you were worried about him. 

Briefly, you wondered how Vash would handle this, but you knew it would be fake smiles and white lies, he must be tired you were tired of it. The suns were setting now, casting the desert in a purplish red light. You sigh standing and brushing the sand from yourself, you’ve done all you can to help the people here and they didn't want any more help from Vash the Stampede. 

Wandering around the town you found Vash with the Thomas, he’s petting it gently Vash was much better with the creature than you were. You join his side quietly and he greets you with a small wave and a light smile. You try to greet him with one of your own but you can’t you are tired of the fakeness God you want Vash to express some emotion, sadness hell you’d take anger something. 

“Are you okay?” you don't know why you ask; you could repeat his response word for word I’m fine are you okay?

“I’m fine are you okay?” his response pisses you off, you knew the words were coming but you were sick of it. You clench your fist at your sides, wanting to get angry, but you know that’s not what Vash needs right now. You can be angry on his behalf later; he stares at you confused as you deflate. 

“No Vash I'm not okay.” he looks startled, his hands hovering over your body unsure if he should touch you, wishing he would, you step closer to the blonde as he speaks, “Where are you hurt?” shaking your head, he only looks confused you don't know how to express your hurt to Vash. Because it’s not your physical pain that’s hurting you right now, it’s his hurt you care about. You want to cry for him, to scream out and curse the world, because you know he never will, and that’s what hurts. 

Taking a step closer your bodies are nearly touching, you reach a hand up and place it gently on his head. “You did your best, you know that right?” you ask and you can hear the stuttering breath he takes in, he looks directly into your eyes and you can see his begin to water. You smile kindly at him, patting his head gently before running your fingers through his hair so your hand is resting on the nape of his neck. 

He may not want to hear this, but you know he needs to. “Not everyone can be saved, and that is not your fault. God Vash, you do your best every day, and if no one else sees that I do, I see you. We will get through today.” You pull him in closer, gently resting your forehead against his, you can feel him tremble as the tears slowly drip down his face. You hold him to you lightly, giving him a chance to pull away if needed. You don’t want him to, but you know you can only push Vash so much.

He doesn’t pull away instead he raises his hands and cups your face, holding you there so you can't pull away. You startle a bit when you feel his thumbs wipe your own tears, you didn't even realize you had been crying yourself. “It’s just….” You don’t say anything while Vash struggles with what he has to say. You’re hoping he’ll be honest, and not bottle up all the pain.

“I don’t know how to move forward” the words are whispered against your lips, as if he’s afraid to admit it out into the open. you close your eyes, and your heart breaks. Vash moves back, you think he’ll pull away completely but he doesn’t instead he places a kiss on your forehead, and it makes your heart skip a beat. 

Vash pulls you into a hug then, his arms going around your shoulders while yours wrap around his waist, he cries softly and you let him holding on to him tight for as long as he needs. Your hands rub his back under his red coat, “I know, but you are not alone I'm right here and I’ll be right here as long as you need me. Let me help you anyway you need.” you answer trying not to choke on your words, putting as much emotion as you can into your words. 

He sobs, gripping you painfully tight but you don't mind, letting him take all the comfort he can get and asking for nothing in return. His hands shift down your back squeezing again, the action jostles your wound and you let out a pained cry because of it. Vash lets go instantly stepping back. You're shocked by the sudden coldness, your hands hanging limply at your side. He’s looking at you wide eye, “I'm sorry.” he chokes out, he looks like he's going to run you can't let him. 

You move forward quickly, he sees you coming and steps back right into the Thomas the pack animal moves forward startled it causes Vash to lose balance, injury, and boundaries be damned you grab him by his jacket and surge forward he falls straight onto his back and you let the momentum take you with. 

He lands on his back hard, and you land right on top of him straddling his waist you still have a hold of his jacket, “Stop! Don't you dare run away.” you say it a little frantically, “I'm okay really just… stop.” you whisper, he looks up at you his eyes filled with tears. How did you even get here, you didn't mean to be forceful with Vash but you couldn't let him pull away when he was so down on himself. Blaming himself for everything, you know he blames himself for you getting hurt. But these things just happen.

“I just can't seem to do anything right,” he says it with a light chuckle, and you fist the material of his jacket leaning in, you watch his eyes go wide and a blush settles on his face you choose to ignore that. “Vash.” you say his name sternly, and he gulps at your tone, “I am going to say this in the nicest way possible, but if you say one more bad thing about yourself, I'm going to hurt you.” 

You don't really mean it; you could never hurt Vash, but he does this light laugh that sounds real and it makes your heart soar. He grabs each of your wrists, and you loosen your grasp blushing as he looks at you softly. “Okay, I get it… I just don't deserve you, you’re always doing so much for me, and you're so kind! I just feel like-” You cut off his rambling by grasping his hands and intertwining your fingers with him, and you lean forward pressing into him it shuts him right up.

“What did I just say? This world doesn’t deserve you, don't ever think you don't deserve nice things, and comfort. You deserve the world, and I wish I could give it to you.” you pause, your heart beating wildly in your chest, thinking your next words carefully, but you want him to understand. “Can I show you?” 

“Show me what?” his voice drops to a whisper, the suns have long since set and his eyes seem to glow in the moonlight, “How much you mean to me, how much I care.” you wonder if his heart is beating as fast, he nods and you drop his hands they fall limply to his side as you cup his face. “I need you to say it.” 

He takes in a deep breath, the words leaving him in a whine, “Please show me how much you care about me.” he looks so embarrassed, but you smile brightly as you lean in kissing his forehead, “I love how kind you are.” you mutter, he makes a startled noise, but you keep going moving to kiss under his right eye, “How you see the good in everyone.” under his left eye next, “How strong you are, but only use your strength to help those in need.” 

You pull back to check on his face to make sure you're not overwhelming him too much, his eyes are watery again and there is a slight tremble to his lips but he doesn’t ask you to stop or pull away so you continue, kissing him on the tip of his nose, “You put up with me and I appreciated it, even when I'm being difficult.” he lets out a light chuckle at this, and you smirk. Your eyes flicker to his lips and then to his eyes asking for permission to continue, your voice quiet in the night. 

“Please,” he asks and well who are you to refuse, you lean in pressing your lips to his gently, he touches you now finding the courage to do so, his prosthetic resting on your waist, while his other hand comes to rest on the nape of your next. 

You pull back barely out of reach, “And I really love how you never give up, even when it would be easier. You are so good Vash, and if I need to spend every day reminding you of that I will.” 

He lets out a whimper, you lean back into to give him another kiss he holds you close, you feel his grip tighten on your waist. You don’t mind, letting him take as much as he wants. You don’t know how long the two of you stay like this, sharing soft kisses and shy touches. But eventually you pull back, resting your hands gently on his chest. 

“Are you okay? Was that too much?” You ask softly, he opens his eyes to look at you, you can see the blush covering his face, and making you smile. He removes his hands form you, instead covering his whole face to block his blush. “Is that a yes then?” You tease lightly. 

“Thank you…” he says it quietly, and it makes your heart melt, you grab both his wrist and pull them away so you can see his face, placing a soft kiss on the inside of each wrist you smile softly at him. “You don’t need to thank me; I’ll do this every day if you want.”

“Then it really will be too much.” He whines and you laugh getting to your feet and pulling him up. Once he’s standing you drop his hands, “never, I’ll never run out of love for you.” He’s blushing again hands covering his face once more, you love when he gets all shy. You step around him reaching up to tussle his blonde locks, “we need to find our Thomas now.” 

He sighs dropping his hands, “I’ll find her.” You laugh he tells you to wait here and he’ll be back. Watching him leave, you hope that you were able to bring him some comfort. You hope he understood how deeply you cared for him, and that you would continue to be by his side no matter what.

Eventually, Vash came back he held out his hand from the top of the Thomas, you grabbed his hand and he pulled you up, settling you in front of him. You thanked him as you grabbed the reins, Vash settled his arms around your waist. Resting his chin on top of your head you smiled, as you moved the Thomas forward, you didn’t know where to head next but it didn’t matter as long as you were together.

[yanderu-deredere]

taste. (extras)

★ the aftermath of the both literal and metaphorical fuck-fest you had with your newfound werewolf pack

a/n: idk just wanted to put the points of view of the yanderes as their own thing so here's that on here LOL

also i just wanted to write a thing to remind yall that im SOFT and SWEET and its all about CUDDLING here on this WHOLESOME MINECRAFT SERVER

part one (bite.) ★ part two ★ (chew.) ★ extras (bite and chew.) ★ part three ★ (swallow) ★ part four (digest.)

pairing: poly werewolves x male reader word count: 1302

warning: bottom reader with male parts and pronouns, stereotypical werewolf scent stuff, mentions of marking (both scent wise and with bruises/bites)

Mel sighed, wiping himself of with a wet tissue.

If he thought that Isamu and Leonard were a handful, he was really signing himself up for something with the three of you. But, he supposed, Mother Moon knew he'd be able to handle it.

After all, the pull to you was even stronger than his pull towards his other two mates so he knew your rightful place was beside them.

He just needed to get used to cleaning up all three of his mates' messes now.

First, of course, was Isamu because he was for sure the least grumpy out of all three of them. And, also, the one with the most stamina so he'd for sure help out.

"C'mon, pup." Mel cupped the back of the back of Isamu's neck, pressing a soft kiss to Isamu's temple as he whispered in his ear, careful not to jostle the other two. "Careful now."

Isamu woke slowly but, like always, his moves were careful and calculated despite the sleepy look in his eyes.

"I?" Isamu leaned back, resting his bare ass against his ankles as he tried to remember what the hell happened during his momentary rut.

Mel saw when the recognision hit him because Isamu scrambled back, his now deflated knot pulling out easily.

"I-I-I--" Isamu stuttered out, his eyes flickering all over their new mate, assessing exactly what damage he'd made.

Mel knew the feeling. He'd spent a good long while staring too. You were a beauty before, when he first saw you in the forest.

You were even more beautiful now, with Isamu and Mel's bitemarks and bruises all over you and Leonard's scratches littered along your thighs.

"Calm down, Sam. It's fine." Mel cupped the back of Isamu's neck again, pressing another kiss to his temple. "Are you okay? You tired?"

Isamu looked up at Mel, those lost hazel eyes looking so nervous that it made Mel chuckle. But he gave Isamu time to think, to assess how he truly felt.

Mel would stand tall and firm, would be the hard rock that his mates needed to rest against.

"I-I'm fine." Isamu finally muttered after a few minutes.

Mel grinned, happy to hear that his mate was okay. His palm moved from Isamu's neck to his cheek where he drew him close to press a soft kiss against his lips

"Why don't you go clean yourself up, I'll wake up Sleeping Beauty and the three of us can take care of our new mate, hmmm?" Mel offered, knowing it was the only way he could talk Isamu into leaving your side.

Even then, Isamu looked hesitant, his eyes darting from you to Mel and back. Finally, he seemed to realise that he didn't have much of a choice because he slowly nodded and left the couch.

Mel almost laughed at how he hobbled a little.

That, of course, left him with the arduous task of separating you from Leonard without waking you up.

He had thought it would be hard but, actually, when he shifted you, you stayed asleep. He worried you were dead for a second but he checked on you and it really was that they took a lot out of you.

Made sense. Isamu and Leonard pretty much overstimulated you to hell and back just in between the two of them.

Mel wanted to be free of blame but he could admit he was part of the problem seeing as he basically just kicked back and watched.

He carefully laid you back and lifted Leonard into his arms. Like always, Leonard just laid there, giving little to no resistance. HIs head even lolled over, resting against Mel's chest.

Mel pressed a kiss to his forehead and brought him to the bathroom where Isamu was already filling the sink with warm water and readying the towels.

The two worked together, soaking the towels with warm water and wiping Leonard down till he was coherent enough to wonder what the fuck was going on.

"Where is he?"

"Calm down." Mel immediately clutched Leonard to his chest to prevent him from going feral and guarding over your body like an overprotective wolf over its own pups.

"He's in the living room. He's fine. We were just going to clean you up and then we're going to go with some warm towels and clean him up." Mel explained, his broad hand running through Leonard's soft blonde locks "You need to calm down or you'll trigger another rut and he won't be able to handle that."

Leonard panted, his nails digging into Mel's biceps, but he nodded frantically. The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you. He knew you weren't like them, that you were softer, more easily breakable.

He didn't want to break you.

When Mel felt like Leonard wouldn't run to you the first chance he'd get, he let go of him and Leonard sagged a little, feeling like his skin was too tight over his body, like he itched.

He wanted to see you but he didn't want to panic and make himself feel worse so he just itched his arms and focused on Mel.

Isamu felt the same. He had better control because Mel had been training him longer but you took that control and crushed it in your hand like paper.

You made him feel so weak and he loved it.

The last thing he wanted was to lose that control and hurt you though so he wrapped his arm around Leonard's shoulders and kissed his forehead before handing him some sweatpants and a crop top.

When the two of them dressed (as slowly as possible, Mel insisted) and washed their faces with cold water, they were finally allowed to take some damp warm towels over to you.

You were still where Mel left you, all splayed and vulnerable, open and trusting.

The inside of your wrist was raw and bitten from Isamu. Leonard could see where he reached back and clawed at the tops of your thighs, near your pelvis. They were already puffing up. There were even various bites along your shoulder and neck from Mel.

They really did a number on you.

Leonard sat down on the couch first, moving you so your cheek rested on his leg.

With the warm towels he had, he gently dabbed at the hickeys and bites along your shoulders, making sure not to scrub or rub and irritate it.

Mel sat down too, gently wiping along the grain of the scratches on your thighs,m making sure to be gentle with them so he wouldn't irritate them either.

Then, Isamu sat on the floor and took your wrist, tears threatening to spill from his eyes as he took your wrist and pressed several apology kisses on it before he dabbed at it with a warm cloth.

They wiped you down till all the stickiness and lube was completely gone, till you were clean and comfortable. Then, they dressed you in their clothes.

You wore Isamu's sweatpants, one of Leonard's shirts and Mel's cleanest pair of used boxers. If you asked, it was because your clothes were covered in cum (Mel had a bout of insanity and came all over them) but, in reality, they liked you being covered in their scent.

Lastly, they positioned themselves around you, cuddling all around you.

Leonard plastered himself against your front immediately, his face already nosing against your jugular like he couldn't get enough of your scent. Isamu was against your back, his arms sneaking around your sides.

Mel had the unfortunate position of being under all of you, your head resting against his collar, Isamu's head against his bicep and Leonard's head on his chest.

He'd been in this position enough times to know that he'd wake up not feeling anything in the morning. Not that he'd complain seeing as he loved having all his mates in his arms like this.

Plus, Mel knew that Isamu and Leonard wouldn't be able to handle being away from you for a while, especially when they hadn't officially marked you.

To Isamu and Leonard, you could easily be stolen away and they wouldn't be able to stand it.

So the three of you would sleep on the amply sized couch, comfortable and safe. Mel would make sure of it. He'd keep all of you safe, forever.

[whatisthismandoinghere]

For the drabbles prompt:

"Kill Me" - After Hogan is caught outside the wire on one of his solo missions, Klink is forced to choose between killing Hogan or being shot himself, with the implication that Hogan will be shot either way. So Klink regrettably kills him, but only because he knows his prisoners need him.

I am happy to announce that I have finally finished a request!! For you my dear friend <3 I'd also like to thank you and everyone else who has requested things for their patience as I very slowly wade my way through them all lol but without further ado!!

"Herr Kommandant! Major Hochstetter... he- he caught Colonel Hogan... outside the wire."

They were words that Klink had been dreading to hear and that day had finally come. They echoed loudly in his mind over and over as he desperately tried to think of what to do, what to say, but nothing came.

"Kommandant?" Schultz gently spoke again, snapping Klink back to reality. "What are we going to do?"

Klink stared at Schultz for a moment, realizing how tired and sad he looked. He knew the sergeant was a good man, and he only wanted the best for the prisoners and for this terrible war to be over. But he couldn't give him any hope, for Klink couldn't find any himself.

"I honestly don't know, Schultz," Klink finally answered. "I don't know if there's anything we can do."

"But there must be something."

There had to be, Schultz just knew it. Things couldn't end like this. Hogan couldn't... he just couldn't... Schultz couldn't even being himself to think the word.

Die.

Schultz shuddered a little then turned to face Klink again, hoping against hope that he would be able to do something.

"Send them in," Klink said tiredly. "Maybe we can make this up as we go along."

Schultz nodded then turned to open the door to Klink's office, hoping his commanding officer was as good at winging it as Colonel Hogan was.

☆☆☆

"Colonel Klink," Hochstetter growled menacingly as he entered the office. He radiated confidence and pride with every step he took, fully basking in the glory of the capture of his greatest rival, Colonel Hogan of the USAAF.

Klink could hardly stand Hochstetter's attitude. It made him feel sick to his stomach, but he could not let him know that. He tried to put on a brave face and puffed out his chest, but he felt so deflated on the inside.

"Major Hochstetter," Klink answered, trying to keep his voice steady and making the choice to stand up behind his desk, hoping the fact he was taller than the major would help boost his own confidence. "What brings you here at this ungodly hour?"

"I'm so glad you asked," Hochstetter answered sinisterly as he reached his hand back and dragged Hogan forward. "Missing any prisoners lately?"

Klink looked at Hogan for a moment, noticing that Hochstetter had already had some fun. Hogan's clothes were rumpled and torn. Civilian clothes. There was blood running down the side of his face. A dark bruise was starting to form on his cheek and his hands were tied behind his back. The longer Klink looked, the worse the situation seemed to become.

"Major-" Klink began.

"Let me stop you right there, Colonel. You know the rules just as well as I do. I caught Hogan in civilian clothes, which means he is no longer protected by the Geneva Convention. A pity really."

A twisted smile crossed Hochstetter’s face as he nonchalantly pulled out his pistol and admired the gleam of it in the light of Klink's office.

"I'm sure there's a perfectly reasonable explanation, Major-"

"Like what? Are you trying to cover for him? Or maybe trying to cover for your disloyalty to the Fatherland?"

"That's not what I said. If you'd only let me finish-"

"I'm tired of talking Kommandant," Hochstetter said through clenched teeth. "There's only one way for this to end."

Hochstetter paused for a moment, then held his pistol out to Klink.

"And why don't you do the honors?"

Klink's eyes went wide as Hochstetter's words sunk in, and he nearly stumbled back into his chair.

"Unless of course, you'd like to join Colonel Hogan?" Hochstetter couldn't help but smirk at his ingenuity.

"Herr Kommandant," Schultz whispered, his hand resting on his heart. He tried to say more, but the words just weren't coming out.

Hogan just felt... numb. Everything that had happened had been a blur, from his initial capture to now, standing here in Klink's office. He was grateful this had been a solo mission though. He couldn't bear to see any of his men meet this fate.

But when Hochstetter had basically threatened to kill Klink if he didn't kill Hogan, he was suddenly paying very close attention. He honestly couldn't say what he'd rather Klink choose. On one hand, if Klink died what would happen to his men? Would they end up with a vicious kommandant that would treat them worse than any of them could have imagined? How would they fare? Could they keep the operation going?

Would they make it out of Stalag 13 alive?

On the other hand, Hogan wasn't quite sure how he felt about... well, dying. Sure, it had always been a possibility, but now it was actually happening. He didn't necessarily want to go out this way, but if his last act would be protecting his men in a way, so be it. He'd be more than happy to do so.

Klink was also fighting an inner battle. How could he bring himself to shoot one of his own prisoners? Especially one that he interacted with daily? He didn't think he could do it.

But then he also had to think of his other prisoners. What would happen to them if he was killed? Would they be treated well?

Klink had finally come to a decision, regrettable as it was.

"Very well, Major," Klink said. "Let us go outside and get this over with."

Klink calmly took the pistol from an incredulous Hochstetter and gently pushed Hogan in front of him, taking the opportunity to whisper in the American colonel's ear and attempt to explain himself.

"I'm sorry, Hogan. I truly am." Klink tried to speak as fast as he could, knowing Hochstetters's shock at his decision wouldn't last forever. "I do not wish to do this. But the other prisoners... I simply cannot risk them falling into the hands of Major Hochstetter or somebody worse, if that's even possible."

Klink braced himself for how Hogan would react. Not that Hogan was a selfish man, far from it. But given the stress of the situation and how uncharacteristically quiet he had been in the office, Klink didn't quite know what to expect.

"I was thinking the same thing," Hogan answered quietly. "I respect your decision, Colonel. Just... just make sure you don't miss," he finished with a half hearted chuckle.

"Hogan..." Klink began.

"There's nothing more to say, Klink. I hold nothing against you. Let's just get this over with, yeah?"

Hogan turned to face the door, but paused for a moment and turned around to face Klink once again.

"Take care of my men. Make sure they don't meet the same fate as me. Please. They have to make it home."

"Of course," was all Klink could manage.

Not that he had much time to say more, for Hochstetter came barging in not soon after.

"What are we standing around here for?" he shouted. "Let us not waste any more time."

☆☆☆

It was a grim scene at Stalag 13.

Hogan, a helpless standing target.

Klink, the reluctant killer-to-be.

Schultz, crying silently at Hogan’s fate.

And Hochstetter, all too happy to see all of these events unfold.

After all, it was to be the major's crowning moment. A capture he had been waiting what felt like a lifetime for. And on top of it all, he had been able to force Klink to be the one to pull the trigger.

Would Hochstetter have liked to be that man? Sure. Killing Hogan would be a great pleasure. But to have the kommandant do it, especially considering the two interacted daily and Klink was opposed to such violence, now that was even better.

Klink fiddled with the gun for a moment, making sure it was loaded, trying to stall for time. But in the end he knew it was useless. Hochstetter's voice soon confirmed that.

"What are you waiting for, Klink? Have you changed your mind and decided to join Hogan? Because I can happily arrange that," Hochstetter called out impatiently. He was getting tired of waiting.

"That will not be necessary," Klink answered tiredly, raising the pistol and aiming right at Hogan's heart.

Schultz couldn't bear to watch, so he turned away as tears continued to stream down his face. He knew why Klink was doing what he was doing, but he didn't know if he would ever be able to look at his commanding officer the same way ever again.

Hogan silently nodded at Klink, trying to reassure him that it was all going to be okay. Trying to assure him that he should not feel guilty, although he knew he would. Trying to assure him that Hochstter would not win in the end.

Klink nodded in return, but he knew this moment would haunt him for the rest of his life. There was no happy ending here. Only death, pain, and sorrow.

Klink took a deep breath and finally pulled the trigger.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion, and after what felt like an eternity the bullet finally struck Hogan. He stumbled backward a bit, before falling to his knees. Blood seeped from his chest and stained his white shirt. Then he finally collapsed and hit the dirt.

☆☆☆

That was always when Klink woke up, tangled up in his sheets and drenched in sweat. It was a recurring nightmare for him, although the victim wasn't always Hogan. Sometimes it was Newkirk, sometimes it was even young innocent Carter. But the ending was always the same, and it always left him feeling hopeless and even more resentful of the monster controlling his country. He was just grateful that he hadn't actually had to kill a prisoner. Although the fact they were only dreams wasn't much comfort.

He knew about Hogan's operation. And he knew that Hogan and his men were usually careful. But he couldn't help but think of the what ifs, which always seemed to manifest themselves into twisted nightmares that haunted Klink's sleep.

That was just proof of how high the stakes were in this war though, and while Klink was definitely proud to be helping Hogan, his men, and the Allies, he wished his mind would find better outlets for his anxiety.

"This cursed war is going to be the end of me," Klink grumbled as he sat up, glancing at the clock which read 0200.

But despite all this he couldn't say he regretted anything. He didn't regret Hogan gathering the courage to tell him about his operation. He didn't regret Hogan and his men asking for his help. He didn't regret saying yes.

Because this cause was worth fighting for. His country was worth fighting for. The fate of Europe and the world as a whole was worth fighting for.

And that was of great comfort to him.

☆☆☆

"Morning Kommandant," Hogan sloppily saluted as he walked into Klink's office.

"Good morning Colonel Hogan," Klink smiled. He was genuinely happy to see the man considering his nightmare from the night before.

"Long night? You look-"

"Exhausted? Defeated?"

"Well... yeah."

Klink remained silent for a moment, flashes of the nightmare playing through his head. "Let us just say that I did not sleep well."

Hogan recognized that look, that blank stare. He also had been in this war long enough to know what "I just didn't sleep well" meant. He also knew better than to outright ask about it, but he decided to offer his support anyway.

He traced the wood on Klink's desk, trying to choose his next words carefully. He didn't want to seem like he was prying, but he also wanted to seem genuine.

"If you ever need to vent, I'm here. I'm just a typical POW. I don't do much," Hogan smirked.

Klink couldn't help but chuckle. "Now we both know that is a lie."

"It was worth a shot." Hogan stood and started to leave the room but paused in the doorway. "I mean it though. I offer the same open door policy to my men. And since you're part of the team now... it applies to you too."

"Thank you, Hogan. I appreciate it. Perhaps I shall take you up on that offer another time. All this paperwork you know..." Klink trailed off and ended with a weak chuckle.

Klink knew it was a weak excuse, and so did Hogan. But Hogan also knew how to take a hint and decided to drop the subject for now. Klink would talk if or when he was ready.

"Well I'll let you get to it. It's a shame they're keeping the Iron Eagle cooped up with such menial tasks."

"Dismissed, Colonel Hogan."

"Too far? Yeah, I suppose you're right," Hogan joked, but then he took on a more serious note. "I meant everything I said though, Klink. If you ever need to talk, I'm here to listen."

Hogan finished with a nod and a somewhat awkward smile then finally left the room, leaving Klink alone with his thoughts.

Klink appreciated the gesture, he really did. But he wasn't sure if he'd ever be able to open up about those nightmares. It was unnerving to see what his mind could come up with at times, but it helped to know he had true friends that wanted to help him.

He had a lot of progress to make, he knew that, but for now that small comfort was enough. He just hoped it'd get him through this bloody war.

[crazyunsexycool]

What would Ransom say if one day his mum was like "why are you so mean to everyone but y/n? I'm your mother you should treat me better and show me more respect than you do her"

Linda is a bitch and she really would say some shit like this! 🙄😡

So this became a drabble idk I’m really tired I shouldn’t be writing lol

I feel like Linda would do this when Ransom and reader are visiting Harlan. Ransom is more than a gentleman. He helps her take her coat off, pulls out her chair at the dinner table, makes sure she has whatever she needs to be comfortable during the visit. (He is so soft for her ugh!!!!)

It would be something like this:

Ransom is soft spoken with you, a lot of checking in, letting you know they can leave when you want. All that sort of stuff.

It makes Linda see red!!! She fucking hates it because she doesn’t get that from her husband or son. Why can’t she have a relationship like that?

Anyways…

I feel like they would be in the living room enjoying dessert and coffee. Ransom leans in and whispers something into your ear like “do you want more coffee thimble?”

You turn to look at him and smiles but shake your head and give him a small “thanks.”

“I don’t get this.” Linda motions to the two of you. “You’re such an ungrateful prick with your parents, we gave you everything, but you treat her better than you do any of us. Why? Why are you like this Ransom? We’re your family and I’m your mother you should show me some respect.”

Ransom throws his head back and laughs. He can feel your hand on his thigh and a small squeeze both as a comfort and request to not start a fight. But he doesn’t care, you’re more important to him than his mother.

“When you say you gave me everything are you referring to the verbal or physical abuse?”

“You son of a bitch.” She spits.

“You are right on that one.”

“Ran…” you say softly, trying to stop this from getting worse but the next words out of Linda’s mouth set him off.

“I don’t even know why you even talk to her. She’s the one that gave those kids up like the trash they are. She’s ruined this family by being a whore and trying to baby trap you. Can’t you see she only wants you for your money?”

“Eat shit Linda.”

That causes everyone to start going in on him but he doesn’t care. He stands, towering over everyone.

“You wanna know why I treat her with respect? It’s because she does the same for me. She cares about me and my well being. She loves me even when I’m an ungrateful prick. Y/N is a much better person than any of you will ever be. Her and our kids, that you forced us to give up are the best things in my life. So I will not tolerate any disrespect from anyone. You and Richard have been nothing but abusive pieces of shit and you’ll never get an ounce of respect from me.” By the time he’s done, Ransom is breathing heavy and his neck and face are red with rage.

No one in their right mind says anything. The tension is thick in the air and you move to stand at Ransom’s side. Your hand finds his and you tug him back until you’re both out of the room.

Upstairs in what used to be his old room, Ransom loses it. He grabs his old things and just throws them against the wall until they break. You stand outside and let him calm down for a moment. Once the breaking has subsided you open the door slowly and poke your head in. He’s sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes cast down and hands balled into fists sit on his thighs. You walk in slowly and stand between his legs, playing with the few strands of hair that fell forward.

“Even after all this time they still get to me, I hate them.” He says completed deflated.

“I’m sorry baby. You deserve better than that.”

“No I don’t. I’m not a great person, I’m not even a nice person. You’re the one who deserves better.”

“Is that what you think?”

“Yeah,” Ransom finally looks up at you. His eyes are red and puffy, a clear sign that he had been crying. “I’m an asshole, you deserve someone that is better than me.”

“Than be better, because I only want you.”

“You’re not expecting me to go and apologize right?”

“Fuck no, you’re mom’s a cunt. Besides I like being the one with the privilege of being on your good side. It’s nice and spacious here.”

He chuckles at that before you lean down and give him a chaste kiss. Ransom leans his head against your chest and wraps his arms around your waist.

Truth be told it didn’t matter if he was an asshole to everyone else or came off as rude to people. You knew who Ransom was under that unfazed exterior and as long as he was the soft sweet Ransom you’ve always known and love you didn’t care. Because he was yours

[fonulyn]

what sort if things do you want to talk abt with people/what would make you feel better?

I mean, in an actual utopia? :'D I'd love it if people were excited for what I'm working on. if they'd ask about the fics in progress, kick my butt when I can't get shit done, and push me into doing more. maybe even give feedback already during the process! i know it's too much to ask for, especially when so rarely even finished fics get excitement or feedback, but it's what a Dream World would look like lol.

ideally I'd love it if I had some friends who I could actually brainstorm with and talk about the stuff I'm stuck on or trying to otherwise flesh out. my dog does listen but rarely has any suggestions I can take :'D I know I got spoiled because earlier (like …two years ago lol) I had someone who was always excited to talk about the ideas and brainstorm with me, and who kicked my ass into gear if I was dragging my feet, and I got used to it and now that i'm supposed to just figure everything out alone I have zero motivation to actually do it. the kind of instant feedback I got then was the best motivator ever. now? eh.

and I'd love it if my feeble attempts at trying to talk about wips wasn't just brushed off. if i post on tumblr about something it's most of the time ignored. i've tried to talk to multiple people, and in return i get either the "you'll figure it out eventually" or a complete topic change immediately. no follow-up questions, no excitement, no nothing.

and I'd love it if people didn't go "oh I can help brainstorm that!" and then not even bother to read it. go "I'm gonna comment on that soon!" and never do it. empty promises do nothing but get hopes up and end up in crushing disappointment.

I know people are busy, people have their lives and shit happens but like. it's easy to not make promises you can't (or have no intention to) keep, imo.

and idk in the Olden Days I had multiple people to chat general fandom with, and it in turn sparked fic ideas, and excitement, but now that doesn't really exist either.

just to be clear I'm not expecting anyone to be at my beck and call 24/7 all the time :'D god no :'D but it's so friggin' disheartening when I get a new idea, am all excited about it, and then deflate when I know I don't really have anyone to hype me up about it. so then i won't do it. or then i write like two sentences a day maximum and never get shit done. and every damn day i'm getting closer to just quitting for good. i really really don't wanna abandon my to-write-list and leave shit unfinished but it's starting to look like the only viable option left.

idek. I'm tired. i know it's just a pipe dream and i'll just keep struggling until i fade away from fandom and no one notices lol but yeah.

(it is really nice to just chat about anything with people too, tho, so a shoutout to those who did reach out and who i've been occasionally chatting with :3 it is appreciated!)

[canmom]

Hi! Question about the Baru Cormorant series for you! Any chance you could expand on Barhu finally discovering that the blood of Empire of gold? (Or do you do that in your analysis series? Maybe I missed it) It doesn't seem like a realization many other 'dystopic'-ish works address.

hiii! always glad to talk Baru, but I admit I'm a little confused about the question. guessing like, the blood of Empire is gold? implicit in the metaphor of bleeding Falcrest by siphoning its circulating wealth out through Baru's trading concern? but I think it's pretty likely I misunderstood you!

anyway I talked about Baru's grand plan in Butchering an Empire - that's where I went and learned about the history of John Law in France, which was a bold new financial scheme that collapsed on itself when it turned out that colonising Louisiana wasn't as immediately profitable as expected, and the British 'South Sea Bubble', which was an elaborate insider trading scam around slave trading. what I said there was that while those were both financial disasters for their host empires, and may have checked their ambitions to expand and even laid some seeds that affected the later French revolution, they clearly weren't fatal. when the financial system broke, the governments tore it up and made a new one, because the collective fiction of money was no longer serving their interests. call it a blood transfusion if you want.

but Baru aspires to more than that - not merely to pop a speculative bubble but to usurp the actual flow of goods so the Oriati Mbo can cut Falcrest out of the equation by force. in that case the analogy is like uhh... you're a vampire and you drain someone's blood before having a boxing match with them?? anyway would that work? maybe! then I go into a long aside about denazification and its limits as an analogy for what might happen afterwards, because destroying a financial system and political structure doesn't put an end to ideologies and social relations and such.

so I'm not sure how far that answers what you were asking about. i can take some guesses like circulatory system : body :: economy : empire. we could be more specific e.g. money is the universal equivalent which allows the capitalist optimisation process to quickly redirect its efforts, at least in theory. is the circulatory system analogous? it circulates oxygen and glucose, which we could liken to fungible raw materials like yards of linen (;p), and ig you could say like, when part of the body demands oxygen and glucose (a muscle in the leg when you're running), blood flow increases to match, so that's kind of a similar function: directing resources to where they are in demand. and by this analogy disrupting a financial system is like... an artery getting clogged, resulting in getting tired more easily. i can see it being a productive analogy as they go.

i actually don't know how the body directs blood flow too much. i assume something unconscious in the brain controls heart rate? but what about how capillaries open and close to help manage temperature, is that determined more locally? would be interesting to look up.

anyway, as i understand, part of the theme of book 4 is going to be deflating this whole idea of baru's that one sufficiently clever person can have such an outsized influence on historical events. but also it sounds like the redrafting process is pretty brutal even by seth's standards lol, so i don't really know where it's gonna go.

anyway, i agree that the economic angle of Baru and its ability to make that immediately engaging does a lot to help the setting of baru feel solid, and thus its model of colonialism in a bottle feel meaningful. it uses it to greater effect than for example the stories of Daniel Abraham that I've read, which use economics for flavour...

...but at the same time it's still a shell game, like all fantasy. I am certain that Seth didn't work things out in spreadsheets behind the scenes, because it's not about simulation, nor should it be. it's an exciting, dramatic story that dresses itself in the exciting parts of the history of economics. because it's a story about the worldview of someone indoctrinated to view the world in that light, as a huge deterministic machine, that she needs to solve.

no idea if that's a proper to your question, anon. lmk!

[x-authorship-x]

Alright so, my grammar and spelling will be bad due to the fact that it’s 3 am and i’m tired af– but when I saw your timeline i saw that ur years start at konoha’s founding which yeah makes sense because it's your timeline and you won't ever put what year is it on your well… fic.

But this got me wondering, what calendar system does Konoha– or well, the narutoverse use? Do all of the villages use the same calendar? Or does each village have their own calendar? If they all do use the same calendar, when was this decided on? On what day did they decide to start the calendar? How many months are in this calendar? 

Do they use the ancient chinese style with the year of the rat or dragon? Or do they stick with the numbers? If they all have separate calendars, how would they meet? They all would have different days, years. How long is it in a day? Why is ___ is in year 200 while we’re in year 100?

Let’s just say.. They all do have the same calendar and they used the Gregorian calendar to make this simple– Do they use BE and CE (or BCE and CE) to abbreviate what year it is? What day do they put it on? When the last major village was founded or the first village that was founded?

If it’s the first village that was founded– which village? And well.. So on and so on until you couldn’t even remember what started this trail of thinking.

Calendar has always been the world building aspect that I get stuck on in every single fandom I'm in– but it never has been THIS bad for whatever reason. Maybe it’s because dates have always been a huge aspect in my life and that just… translated into fandom-space? Or maybe it’s because i’m obsessed with making fics that includes dates with them (i.e files, interviews, etc)

But why wouldn’t I just… make the date be like this? 1XX or 20XX like any sane person would? Is it because it sucks or what? Whatever the reason is, i;m cutting this ask short due to the fact i’ve been rambling for what? 5 paragraphs? thank you for listening to my rambling!!!

(PS this rambling may be easily debunked and all of my sleepless nights will be all for naught just because this exact question may all be shown in the anime or manga what year and what type of calendar they used which makes my 3 am rambling all for nothing. I hope it isn’t that.)

- N

N-anon, I hope you don't see this answer until you've got a solid night's under your belt 🤗

...because I do have some "bad' news

It's not ALL bad, because Narutoverse is a huge mess and continuity is very very touch and go. There isn't a Narutoverse Calendar to look up (I tried, it's all merch lol) but there are some clues that might leave you feeling a little deflated?

Naruto's milk carton had a date on it. 2.19.20. I don't know if this is the same in non-english versions because this is surely the American way of spelling dates??? I looked it up and Japan normally goes "year-month-day". So unless Narutoverse has 19 months...??? And if "20" is the year, twenty years from what???

I make the assumption that the whole continent shares a calendar and year system because of civilian record keeping, tax purposes, and the (seemingly untouched by Shinobi bullshit) rule of Daimyo and warlords. If they didn't, the logistics and reasons for this would be fascinating

XXXX dates always drive me wild tbh, they're better than most alternatives but, for example in My Hero Academia, they're also very confusing to me. Like, if it's a different world entirely, great; if it's supposed to be our world but 200 or whatever years ahead.... What about global warming, social change, and technological developments??? 😵 I can't take it seriously

Back to Narutoverse tho! Narutoverse characters seem to have their birthdays according to the Gregorian calendar (someone on Reddit has also pointed out that OG Narutoverse material has a mix of 70s/80s retro tech jumbled up with post-war Japanese nostalgia and, if you think about the ridiculous technological jumps from Warring Clans to Boruto, then... 😵) So this is where my happier advice comes in; fuck it!

All of your ideas/theories sounded really interesting and I urge you to apply the mentality of "fuck this shit, we play by my rules" to whatever in Narutoverse doesn't "spark joy"

❤️😤✨ your rambles were delightful, sleep well!

Edit: a connected ask on Narutoverse nostalgia, "crushed timelines", and mirroring RL -

And a second response to ^

[spaceorphanssecondbreakfastclub]

SO's Bookclub : Don't Scream

Title: Don't Scream Author: Joan Lowery Nixon Genre: YA Mystery

Goodreads Summary:

Jess is curious about the new family next door. Especially Mark Malik, who's goodlooking and charming. Then Jess and her best friend, Lori, discover that there is a second new guy at school, and Jess thinks the school year is really looking up.

But soon things don't seem right. A neighbor's cat disappears, and the next night Jess's own cat is missing. Now Jess is more than curious -- she's frightened. What she can't know is that there is a connection between these two new guys. One has been given a new identity by the Federal Witness Protection Program. The other is someone seeking revenge. Whom can Jess trust? Who will be the next victim?

Review:

This one had an interesting premise - so I was hopeful when I picked it up. The book starts out with a transcript of a judge pissed off that a young sociopath is getting put in the witness protection program instead of being placed in jail. So, okay, at least the set up feels a little different.

Well... I'm not entirely sure what I expected. This book's biggest fault, again, was that it was incredibly boring. There is zero tension nearly the entire way through. There's not even that much of a mystery until a couple of cats go missing about half way through the book. At least it was short, and probably one of the fastest books I've gotten through.

Our usual JLN tropes are back -- this time we're kind of in a suburb of Houston. Jess is our typical plucky heroine, but she's not as dumb or irritating as so many of these girls our. She's really on the more tolerable side -- but she doesn't have that much to get into.

Oh, I have to add -- she has a bff named Lori, who does actually do something in the story. The last book, too, had a bff who was more present and helpful, and honestly, that's kind of nice. I'm so tired of these girls being alone except for their love interest.

Well -- there are two new guys at school, and while neither one really presents themselves as a real love interest, they're both described as 'hunks'. One of them is the beforementioned sociopath. The other one is trailing our sociopath because he killed a cousin, and he wants to take said sociopath down.

Which one is which? Well -- that's incredibly obvious from the first time the character shows up. It really deflates the entire story, and unlike other times when Nixon has made it super obvious who the bad guy was, there is zero tension as you kind of just wait for the reveal you know is going to happen. It's disappointing really - because I do think there's an interesting premise here.

There are also a bunch of b-plots that don't really go anywhere -- such as the fact that the sociopath is in the witness program because of the mob, the fact that Jess spends a lot of her time at a children's hospital, and the fact that the next door neighbor is a sad man because he lost his wife and children in car accident (such a dark detail that's kind of skimmed over).

I will say, one of the more amusing aspects of the novel is being propelled into the mid-90s. One of Jess's geeky friends uses the computer and the internet to help them solve some of the mystery. I feel like Nixon is resisting a little to this technological change - as Jess is persistent that she doesn't need to use a computer (or a fax!) - and the journalism teacher insists that there are better ways to find things out than use a computer. (Lol)

Rating: 3 stars. This book is one of the more harmless ones -- there's really nothing bad in it, but is a lot of wasted potential.

[themeanpea]

Art Hiatus 2: Electric Boogaloo

I'm gonna keep this short and simple (narrator: she did not) because I'm tired of learning this lesson repeatedly and being too stubborn to absorb it.

Art will always be precious to me, art will always be a source of escapism, happiness, and fulfilment for me.

But in this capitalistic world (yes, yes, we live in a society), as someone who has just recently lost their job, I've been trying to escape into art but it just doesn't hit right anymore.

It just doesn't feel like the responsible thing to do. And well...I'm not a great artist. Hell, I am was not even a good employee. Let's just say I'm not very technically competent. But I am a responsible person. An accountable person. A person who feels a sense of duty in providing and contributing to the household. And art is just not...giving me a way to do that. It's hard to escape into this world when I know I'm failing irl.

I honestly normally avoid being so vulnerable online but ig this tumblr is more of a personal diary than anything else anyway.

I know I'll come back to art eventually, I always do. But when I'm in a routine of job-hunting/interview-prepping, I just feel this weird...resentment towards my art. Ik it sounds crazy but I almost feel like, "Damn, after all the hours I've poured into you, what have I got to show?"

Art isn't paying the bills and I can feel the noose tightening. It used to be a "good" escapism because I was doing the "right" thing irl (i.e. working and providing an income), and art helped me to cope with the lack of fulfilment in my job. So it was like...art helped me to be good. But now it feels like a "bad" escapism - because I'm doing the "bad" thing of being unemployed and trying to suppress the bad feelings by doing art. But I can't anymore. I feel guilty. Very guilty. The call is coming from inside the house.

But the weird thing is...when I get into the flow again, I get lost, it feels magical, I'm building worlds in my head and castles in the sky. Then I check my email and see another rejection and I feel like I'm wasting my time with this stupid art thing. Even though art has helped me in the past, it isn't helping me now and I feel...not even bitter, just deflated. Disappointed, even? :'D Like art was my golden child who I so lovingly nurtured....who still cheers me up even when I'm down, but when it comes to real issues like money and bills and taxes (well actly no taxes when you're unemployed HA!), art just stares at me like, "so...what you gonna do?" Like dear lord art can't you help me or something?? T__T

Anyway, I'm going to take a hiatus for now. I can't keep giving effort, time, and commitment into my art when I'm getting nothing concrete in return. Maybe a temporary happiness that gets me through, but then what? There are still bills to pay at the end of the day and indulging in my art isn't getting me any closer to paying them.

I know that I'll be back, once I've found a job and stabilized a little - but for now, I just can't justify it. I need to put on my adult pants and put food on the table again before I get back to indulging my inner child lol. It is what it is. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[thebangtancloud]

"What if I'm pregnant?" "You're a man, silly."

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Crack, Fluff

A/n: Requested by @persefoneniverse ageeesssss ago and I've finally gotten around to finishing it up and posting it lol.

Wc: no idea honestly, it's just a cute little drabble.

Summary: The one where Yoongi shows all the symptoms of pregnancy and thinks he has a baby in his tummy.

Another groan left the lips of your husband, eyes opening in the dark at the sound of his whines. Yoongi sat right up on the bed, bending over with a hand flat against his stomach.

“Bubby,” he whimpered, poking you with his other hand. “Get up.”

“I’m up,” you croaked, stretching your legs until you heard a crack. “Is it back again?”

“It hurts so bad,” he murmured, tenderly rubbing his hand over the sore skin of his belly. “I’m so frustrated.”

“Should I bring the bucket?”

Yoongi sighed. “No, I don’t feel nauseous.”

“That’s what you said last night before you puked, Yoongi.”

“You make it sound like I’m a burden.”

“You’re not,” you frowned, sitting up beside him. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable. You threw up again just because of the sme-”

“Don’t remind me!” He snapped, eyes wide and holding his breath. “Don’t.”

“Okay,” you nodded, touching his arm gently. “Okay, relax. I’ll get you some lemon water. It helps with nausea.”

Just as you were about to turn to get off of the bed, a hand circled around your wrist.

“Where are you going?”

Blinking slowly, you looked at him in disbelief.

“I just told you. To get you some lemon water. Were you not listening to me?”

“I’m sorry,” he frowned, letting go of your wrist. “I was just trying to forget what happened yesterday.”

“It’s okay,” you ran a hand along his arm. “I’ll be right back. I’ll bring you a bucket too, just in case.”

“Come soon. What if someone kidnaps me while you’re gone?”

“You big baby,” your head fell back in laughter. “Why would anyone kidnap you?”

“Just come back soon. I want to lie down. I’m tired,” Yoongi grumbled with a sigh.

“I’ll be back before you know it.”

~

His words deflated into a weak puff of air, head tipping back and his body turning to the side before he collapsed onto the floor.

The shriek that left your lips echoed through the house, your footsteps quick and heavy against the flooring as you raced towards your husband.

"Yoongi!" You fell onto your knees beside him, patting his cheeks repeatedly. "Yoongi! Are you okay?"

His eyes rolled to the side, opening them and groaning at the weakness in his body. You cradled his head closer to your chest, gently running a hand through his hair.

"That was embarrassing," he mumbled, eyes fluttering shut again. He raised a hand to rest over yours, pulling it a little so that he could cling onto it.

"I told you to rest, didn't I?" You lightly scolded him, leaning down to rest your lips over his hairline. "You scared me."

"You were there to catch me, though."

"You're such a pain," you whined. "Why don't you just listen to me for once?"

"Get ready."

His head snuggled deeper into your stomach, tugging your palm closer to his chest.

"For what?"

"You're going to be a mom."

For a moment, you froze.

You thought back to the last time you got your period, which was barely a week ago. Frowning in confusion, you looked at Yoongi who had his eyes closed.

"What do you mean I'm going to be a mom?"

"Cuz I'm carrying."

"What?" you guffawed at his words, watching the tiniest of smiles grow on his face.

"Are you saying that you're pregnant?"

"What if I am?"

"You're a man, silly," you slapped his shoulder playfully when he opened his eyes to frown at you.

"Hey! I literally have all the symptoms!"

You helped him sit up, the two of you staying right there on the floor with his hand in yours.

"Yoongi, you're just sick. You're not pregnant. It's physically impossible for you to get pregnant."

"Don't be mean, you're hurting my baby's feelings." He dramatically placed a hand over his stomach to shield said baby away from you.

"Okay," you laughed, deciding to play along.

"Okay, I'm sorry. Hey baby?" you touched his stomach. "I'm sorry, did I hurt your feelings?"

"Yes."

You almost choked at the high-pitched sound that came from Yoongi. Looking up at him in disbelief, your lips rolled into a straight line to bite back the grin that was tearing at your mouth.

"Um," you giggled. "Okay, I'm sorry baby. How you doin' in daddy's stomach?"

Yoongi flexed his abs and then deflated them, hoping to give you a response through that.

"Look, my baby is upset with you," Yoongi frowned. He was about to play along when this time he really felt a pain in his stomach, causing him to twist to the side and let out a groan.

"What's wrong?" you asked worriedly, placing a hand over his arm.

Yoongi shook his head, breathing out heavily before looking back at you.

"It just kicked, don't you know?"

"Yoongi," you deadpanned. "Jokes aside, you just fainted. I think we should go to the doctor."

"I'm fine, bub," he shook his head. "I've just not been able to eat well. That's all."

"I'm beginning to think it was the fish that day," you frowned in concern. "Maybe you have food poisoning."

"Shhhh," he shook his head when your hand raised to touch his temple.

"It's not food poisoning, it's probably because my baby doesn't like fish."

"Your baby doesn't like fish," You parroted back lamely with a snort.

"Mhm," he murmured tiredly, tugging at your arm until you were seated right next to him with your back against the couch behind you. He snuggled into the warmth of your embrace, a deep hum sounding from him when you touched the side of his face.

"My baby might not like fish, but he certainly loves the way you're holding me right now."

"He?"

"Or she," Yoongi shrugged. "But it's most probably a he because he's taken after me. He loves your cuddles, just the way I do."

The fond laugh that soon came from you pulled a whine from him.

"That's just you being a big baby because you don't want to visit the doctor."

"Don't hurt my baby's feelings, bubby."

.

.

.

.

.

I finished up the rest of this on my phone, so if you find any mistakes, please ignore it (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

BTS Permanent Taglist: @jeonsorchid , @joondiary , @0xnna0 , @cuteipat , @koalasandcuddles , @bangrauhl13 , @blissedjoon , @underratedbitch-number13 , @tinyoonsblog , @itachi-chi @sparkyprotectionsquad @scuzmunkie @uno7 , @jhopesucker , @kitty-kair , @persefoneniverse , @k1ngsnak3

[the-lightning-strikes-again]

Yeah, I checked. He’ll die too. How “nice”. I’m getting very tired of this, to be honest. I (we) don’t even know this character yet but I’m lowkey grieving him already.

Maybe it’s the vld trauma. (Maybe it’s maybelline.)

Hi, anon! Yeah I was looking up the character profile for Vax'ildan as well and deflated, because of course I always like the characters who die or are sacrificed in painful ways lol. Vax's sacrifice for his sister (although, what does it mean for him to be a champion of a Goddess, in which he can be resurrected for a time?) does feel very different from VLD death.

I do think VLD did such a questionable job of justifying deaths or giving weight/respect to trauma that it left the whole fandom to do all the emotional labor of finding closure/catharsis. So I don't doubt that there could be some residual fear or resentment left over from that, when looking at whether to engage with other shows.

Since Vox Machina existed as a D&D campaign before VLD's twists, I think that's a very different structure/paradigm for how the story unfolded. So, as long as a story can justify a main character death and handle it well, I think that's what I'm personally looking for. And with a Rated TV-MA show, I kinda figure that no one is really safe from death...VM operates under very different parameters than a Y7 show would.

I don't know much about Critical Role or Vox Machina, but it looks like there's a pretty significant fanbase for it. Even if the show follows the source material, there may be some cool fanon opportunities to play with AUs. To keep this disaster bisexual goth emo trickster chaotic-good elf boi alive or involved in the narrative in some way...

[tirednerd2012]

The oldest sibling , especially when the youngest is going through something, is almost always forgotten. It isn’t purposeful or malicious most of the time, but it’s just a common response.

Joyce never means to brush aside Jonathan, it’s just an instinct after Jonathan became more ‘independent’ in a way with growing up and getting a job so early. Taking care of Will and helping her around the house. Then everything with Will and the upside down happening, it’s just solidified at that point. Jonathan would never blame his mother for it, but it hurts. And that hurt just builds up overtime.

Imagine it’s the smallest thing that sets off his breakdown too. Like after the upside down and Vecna’s defeat, they can all start to live normally again. Go back to school, be with their friends. It’s nice now that they’re all back together in Hawkins. Towards the end of the year, Jonathan gets awarded a scholarship or something to NYU for his photography portfolio. It’s a big thing and the high school is found this big award ceremony for the art program, his portfolio will be displayed and he’ll get the certificate. He really wants his family there, Hopper and El included obviously. Everyone is really excited.

Maybe it slips their minds, or maybe even Will or El have something earlier in the day and the celebration after that carried late into the night. (Tbh Will and El would most likely make it but angst Yknow) Either way, something happens where no one but Nancy ended up coming. She can tell Jonathan’s upset even if he tries not showing it. Every time someone walks in the room, he looks over all hopeful and deflates when he sees it’s not them. She tries her best to cheer him up, offers to take him to celebratory dinner like everyone was supposed to do, but he says he just wants to go home. When he does get home, seeing them all in the living room, he ignores them. Puts the certificate on the kitchen counter and goes right back to his room to lock himself in and blast his music in his headphones.

Joyce and Hopper wonder what that’s all about, see the certificate, and their stomachs just drop.

Okay, I have other headcanons I'm working on but I had to stop and do this one because I'm the oldest and I've had a much similar thing happen to me where everyone forgot my award ceremony in high school... I was class valedictorian and I was getting several scholarship certifications and all that mess and no one showed up. And my family had a house literally right down the street from my high school. I also didn't have many friends in high school lol. Before I dive in and hurt my feelings, I want to say I don't believe this would happen. I don't think Joyce would intentionally miss it and the twins sure wouldn't, but for the angst, let's just go with it.

But Jonathan having this huge moment. He's so excited and everyone is excited for him. But the night of comes and no one's there. I can't imagine El and Will not being there, but Joyce could get caught up with work and I can see Hopper not realizing the time and they don't show up. And he's devastated but he tries to hide it. Nancy says she's sure there's good reasoning, and El and Will just stand there and watch, both unsure about what to do. Nancy offers to take him to the celebration dinner, but he just brushes it off as being tired and asks to go home. Meanwhile Will is on the phone trying to call his mom's work and the house, but no one answers and he's irritated as he joins his brother.

El watches everyone come in the room full of Jonathan's work and tell him congradulations and say how proud Joyce must be of him and she sees a light in Jonathan's eyes die more and more with each one. So she grabs his hand and asks him to explain his work to her. He does, taking her hand and guiding her through the room and explaining, pointing out how pictures of her, Will and Nancy are his favorites. Nancy handles the people coming in, putting on a show about how yes, everyone is so proud of him. She knows they are but she's also upset for him.

Will joins in after attempting to call and follows Jonathan and El around as Jonathan explains his photography to them. Will knows all of it, but he notices the small smile on his brother's face as he goes into great detail about the inspiration behind the photos and why they're so special to him. He listens intently and then brings up the dinner again, telling Jonathan he deserves to be celebrated.

They do go out to dinner with Will's influence, but Will knows Jonathan is still upset about Joyce and Hopper. He tries to phone them again, but no answer once again. Nancy is fuming but she holds Jonathan's hand and brings up how excited he is for NYU. Jonathan agrees and El asks if she can visit him in New York, and Jonathan reminds her that she and Will are always welcomed. Due to the money they got from the government, Jonathan is able to get an off-campus apartment that's essentially paid for and Will and El are always welcomed there. He reminds them he's only a call away and Will says they know this, and tonight's about Jonathan, and he doesn't have to worry about the twins.

Once they get home, Jonathan lays the certificate on the kitchen table. Hopper and Joyce are in the dining room going over something, quietly, and he ignores them. The moment he walks in, Joyce remembers the award ceremony and how they missed it. She tries to talk to him, but he just walks in his and Will's room. El goes to her room after shaking her head at them but Will is the one that gets snippy. He looks at them and asks where they were, and reminds them how that night meant the world to Jonathan. Will also starts to see how Jonathan is pushed to the side a lot when it comes to him and El and it upsets him. He loves Jonathan so much and he feels guilty for it.

And Joyce feels just as horrible. Will walks back to his shared room and both Joyce and Hopper realize how much they messed up. Pits form in their stomachs and Joyce looks like she could cry. They both go to Jonathan's room and ask to speak to him alone. Meanwhile Will was trying to comfort Jonathan, who keeps insisting he's fine and tries to calm Will down. He assures Will he's fine and sends him away while he talks to Joyce and Hopper.

Joyce immediately apologizes and Jonathan tells her it's fine, but Hopper's the one to say it's not. They both got caught up with work and then had an argument, and they ended up forgetting about Jonathan's ceremony and it wasn't okay. He has every right to be furious with them. And Jonathan admits he was disappointed but not angry and when Hopper pushes again, Jonathan says he was angry, but he's used to it. He gets it. Jonathan has been on his own for as long as he can remember. He's taken care of Will, a house, school, held down a job, everything he needed to do. It's not Joyce's fault, Jonathan makes that clear, but it's just what they had to do to survive.

Joyce apologizes, agreeing that Jonathan's always been so independent and she's trying. Jonathan's taken care of himself and that's not fair on him. She doesn't want him to keep hiding his feelings, especially when he's not wrong for being mad. She apologizes over and over again, pulling him into a hug and telling him how proud she is of him and she always is and she's trying her best. Hopper also apologizes but Jonathan once again insists it's fine. He sees Joyce trying even more after that, but he doesn't want to hurt her by letting her know how badly she hurt him.

[mew-ya]

Excuse me mew-ya fella, I'm curious about Maren. If I didn't misread, he can inflate his body, but what does it look like when he does it, or under what circumstances does he do it?

hehe I'm flattered that you've asked about my boy! I am not sure how to explain it without giving a fairly chonky explanation so here:

basically he sucks in and gets bigger depending on how much he sucks in! it's sort of like breathing, but not quite the same, if that makes sense? he can still breathe when he's "big." and the opposite for when he's small--he kinda breathes out and boom. he's shrunk.

he prefers being larger, which is why my art depicts him as around kata's size most often. his spines fully come out. he can even sleep that way! he is 38 and spent a lot of time practicing, he wasn't always this capable at holding this form. his natural form is 6'5" so when he was younger it would have been more common to see him small.

he feels vulnerable when small though, so typically he wouldn't be small around people he doesn't trust. that said, he is not able to hold his big form if he's wounded, so when he's recovering he tends to be very whiny and reclusive because he feels like he can't be "himself" at a smaller size :")

there might be some side cases where he's big or small--he'll vibe match people so he might not always be quite as big as kata. he's a pretty laid back dude so if there's a good reason to be a certain size, he doesn't care at all.

sorry that ended up kinda long lol....bad at coming up with short explanations.

tldr: inflating/deflating involves breathing in/out and it makes his body magically change bigger or smaller. he usually stays big because he finds it most comfortable, but will be small for certain reasons (wounded, tired, etc)