#sanitary belt

[vintagepromotions]

Advertisement for Kotek sanitary napkins and sanitary belt (1951). Artwork by Tom Hall.

[olderthannetfic]

Oh man. I think my mother may have still had one in a drawer somewhere when I was a kid, but she certainly hadn't used it in years. When were they last regularly in use? The 70s?

This is an interesting poll. At least to me, because if y'all participate we'll find out who's really Old on our favorite hellsite.

Do you know what this is? Have you ever used one? Either way you answer, please feel free to add your age and any other relevant information (geographic? Cultural?) or anecdotes!

[animasola86]

NSFW Hogwarts in the 1890s Headcanons

Convenient Plot Devices (to make my smut more believable)

(aka Nurse Blainey is a very supportive and progressive witch doctor!)

Every girl over the age of 15 (sometimes earlier) is required to take contraceptive potions as per request by Nurse Blainey who had to deal with horny teenagers and their lack of mind for consequences for too long.

Boys don't have to take them, but can if they are so inclined.

Very reluctantly, the recipe for that potion is taught by Professor Sharp in the Sixth-years' Potions class.

There are potions for every ailment (usually provided by Nurse Blainey), including aftermath soreness or the "potion after" if a witch/wizard forgot to take their contraceptive potion.

There were indeed condoms*, but not every wizard carried them, so the potions and/or a quick disappearing spell had to be used to prevent pregnancies.

*Condoms were usually distributed in barbershops in the late 19th/early 20th century (according to Wikipedia) so I imagine Madam Snelling selling them under the counter in her hair salon.

There is no sex-ed class in Hogwarts, but again, Nurse Blainey is the first to hand out informative literature* or reading recommendations.

The Restricted Section of the library has an entire room filled with erotic fiction, anatomical books and various guides to help out the eager witch or wizard.

*Informative literature included tips and guides for the uterus-bearing population on how to deal with bleeding. As early as 1890, probably even earlier, there was the "invention" of pad-belts/sanitary belts in Victorian England, those were re-usable and I can imagine even easier to use for witches because instead of cleaning them the old-fashioned way, they could just clean them with a swish of their wand. (Read more on the history of menstrual pads here if you're interested.)

Ignatia Wildsmith has seen more horny teenagers making out in front of her Floo flames than people actually using that way of travel.

Ghosts see a lot of things and mostly they don't care about it, unless they are Richard Jackdaw* who likes to stalk those horny teenagers more often than is appropriate.

*Shameless plug: I wrote a smut piece about our favorite horny ghost called The Horny Ghost (how creative).

"Silencio" is the most used spell in the dormitories, boys' and girls' alike.

Hufflepuffs are the only ones who don't have curtains around their beds! But I bet they can think of other devices to get some privacy. Maybe they're masters of the Disillusionment charm!

On that note: only Ravenclaws have their own in-house bathrooms - with actual bathtubs! Slytherins have to leave their common room, and Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs have to walk quite a while to find the nearest bathroom. [Correction: there are bathrooms, one with stalls, one with stalls and bathtubs, in the Gryffindor common room, but only on the girls' side! (Thanks to @mianeryh for pointing that out!)]

But this is a post about HCs, not actual fact/pointing out lazy game design, so I'd like to imagine that all houses have at least one communal bath/bathroom area very close to their dormitories.

*By the way: In the Slytherin, Gryffindor and Hufflepuff common rooms, the girls' dormitories are upstairs, so they have the stairs turning into slides whenever a boy tries to access them, whereas in the Ravenclaw common room, the girls have to go down the stairs and are "only" protected by two suits of armor guarding the way, which in turn makes it easier to sneak past!

Popular make-out places are: the boat-house, the underground harbor, the loft above the Great Hall, the kitchens (poor house-elves), the Prefects' bathroom, the Restricted Section of the library, any dark empty hallway, any empty classroom/storage room, the Undercroft and the Room of Requirement (if they know of them), ...

*Honestly: anywhere is possible in the large castle that is Hogwarts!

Let's talk fashion: we've all seen the HL undergarments of girls and boys, right? Here is an amazing guide by @tamayula-hl about period accurate clothing and their uses in smut writing, very informative!

So based on that I also believe that horny teenagers got tired of all those buttons and layers very quickly and learned spells to make the undressing easier, and/or used "Evanesco" to get rid of clothes entirely (and conjured them back afterwards) - though tbh, I, as a smut writer, don't care too much about how they get naked. They're wizards/witches, they have their ways!

My most used clothing device apart from simple spells: the convenient flap at the front of boys' breeches.

FANFICTION MASTERLIST - KINKTOBER - AO3

[oldmannapping]

Headcanon:

Red Hood doesn’t have a Bat-Utility-Belt, but he has a fuck-ton of eccentric emergency supplies in those cargo pants.

Need a tampon? Red Hood’s got you covered.

Lost your first tooth? What do you know, Red Hood knows the Tooth Fairy, and she wants you to have this shiny quarter.

Hypoglycaemic? Have a jelly baby (red, of course).

Overstimulated? Whack some of Red Hood’s putty in your ears. If it’s good enough for explosions, it’s good enough for sensory overload.

He’s got tissues, nappies, snacks, lighters, sanitary products, a mini-mirror, spare hair ties, wet wipes, and at least six rape-whistles to hand out over the course of an average night.

And that’s not including his weaponry and first aid supplies.

Red Hood starts every patrol waddling like a penguin, with overstuffed pockets and crinkling packets absolutely ruining his stealth.

He’s still a fucking badass. I dare you to make fun of the lollipop clearly visible through his back pocket.

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober (2024) Day 9 - Glory Hole

Kink: Glory Hole

Pairing: M!Reader x Tentacle Monster

Other Kinks: Blow Jobs, Tentacles

Word Count: 1369 words

Kinktober Masterlist

There’s something so simple about glory holes.

It was a blowjob stripped down to it’s barest bones, just an open hole to stick your dick through. No touching, no small talk (not usually), no awkward eye contact as you watch a veritable stranger suck you off. To some it can be impersonal, removing something special from the experience, but when you’re socially awkward and desperately horny, it can be a real blessing.

It helps that glory holes are no longer relegated to dingy bathroom stalls, riddled with graffiti and far from sanitary. No, the service you signed up for has a cozy room that's small but not too confined. There’s a mini fridge full of complimentary drinks and snacks, and of course a large jar of lube that's yours for the taking. They don’t provide free toys for sanitation purposes, but they welcomed you to bring your own. 

The atmosphere helps calm your nerves as you wait for the person on the other side, the hole in front covered by a small curtain to maintain privacy in the meantime. Snacking on chips and a Coke, you could almost forget your about to get your dick sucked by a total stranger.

Well, not a total stranger. You had marked on your submission form your preference for monsters of all shapes and sizes. The agency had been quick to assign you with another client with similar tastes. All you knew about this person was that it was a tentacle monster around your age with a taste for human cock.

The sound of a door closing has you jumping, putting your snacks on the side table and rubbing your chip-crusted hands on your jeans. You’re not sure why, the person can’t see you after all.

“Hello?”

The voice is soft and delicate. A shiver runs down your spine, and before you can stop it your mind runs away imagining what they look like.

“H-hello.” You say, rubbing the back of your neck. “I’m in here.”

You slap your cheek. They know that, dumbass.

Their chuckle is just as pleasant as their voice, the sound of carpet being rustled as they sit down making the anticipation in your gut twists.

Jesus Christ I’m actually doing this.

“It’s nice to meet you.” The voice rings through the hole, now much closer than before. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Y-yeah! Yeah I’m r-ready.”

You’re not really, hands still fiddling with your belt and fly, pulling out your half hard dick. You give it a couple strokes, an insecure part of you not wanting the stranger to see you soft. 

The stranger is patient as you slowly push through the hole, the soft curtain parting as you sheathe yourself up until your balls.

“You’ve got a nice cock.” The voice says, something slimy quickly wrapping around the head. You breathe heavily, wondering if they can tell how much you shake through the wall.

“T-thanks.”

Your voice is wispy as the tapered end of a tentacle completely encircles your tip, smearing the beaded precum around. It constricts, stealing a breath right out of your chest. You bite the back of your knuckles, face getting hot as another tentacle wraps around the base of your shaft.

“You make such nice noises too.” The voice purrs, a third tentacle entering the fray and flicking across your shaft, mimicking a human tongue. The others stay with a firm grip, the muscle underneath writhing and massaging. “I like hearing them.”

They must sense your nerves, encouraging you to let loose as you do. Or maybe they just get off on pleasuring another, hearing the sounds of their work. Makes sense, they signed up for a glory hole after all.

The tentacle around the base begins to jerk slowly, just a couple of inches. The slick of their slime has the skin feeling extra tingly, and you wonder if it's a chemical effect or just the heightened feeling of being touched without seeing it. You brace your hand on the wall in front of you, hips humping into the slimy grip.

“T-that feels good.” You whisper, half to yourself and half to the stranger. They hum, the vibrations spreading through their tentacles and down your cock. You shiver.

“Good to know. How about this?” The tentacle around your cock-head wraps even tighter, focusing on the sensitive spot and pulsing upwards. You let out another moan.

“That too.”

The voice hums, the tentacle that was flicking across now slathering the rest of your cock in its slime. The buzzing feeling has spread all the way up to your stomach and down your thighs, your nerves set alight. You reach your hand down and fondle your balls, biting your bottom lip.

“Fu-uck.” You pant, little shocks shooting up your stomach as the tentacles quicken their pace, the one at the bottom now moving up and down the whole of your cock. Others’ still flick and lather the rest, each touch like an extra jolt of electricity. You’ve lost track of how many tentacles there are, a mixture of touch and slime making it feel like a jumbled mess.

It makes it all the more jarring when the unmistakable feeling of lips, human-esque lips, wrap around your cock, sucking it like a popsicle. “Oh!”

You knew some tentacle monsters had faux faces, some mimic of a  human from a time when it was needed for survival. But in the haze of tentacles you had completely forgotten the option, the suction of a mouth now inches onto your cock making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

The walls must be thin, the noises of a sloppy blow and handjob only making you hotter. Your cock hits what feels like the back of a throat as the other tentacles focus their attention on the base, wrapped around like several hands wringing you dry. They're so smooth and wet, just like the flat of the tongue currently pressed against the bottom of your shaft.

Then, they start bobbing their head.

“Angh!”

Each retreat of their mouth is compensated by several tentacles, soaking up their spit and your sweat ravenously. Your head tosses back, chest heaving as they suck your dick like a professional, never even choking as your cock batters their uvula. If they even have one, you suppose.

��I’m getting close.” You whisper.

“Cum in my mouth.” The voice commands, as if you could resist anyway, “I want to taste you, all of you.”

They resume their sucking with even more fervor, tongue now joining the tentacles encircling your cock, pressing at the bottom of your head and drawing circles. They are so deft with each tendril, the practiced grip of someone who knows their way around. Your core clenches tight, your toes curling into the deep shag carpet as you get closer.

“Oh, gods, here it comes!”

Your hips hit the wall in front of you hard, your cock deep in the stranger mouth as you practically explode into your orgasm. Their throat contracts and bobs as they fulfill their promises and swallow down each drop, what's left being licked up by the tentacles as they pull off. You imagine a trail of spit coming off your head and onto their lips, a debaucherous sight only meant for porn websites.

“Fuck.” You say, still catching your breath and resting your sweaty forehead against the wall. “That was…fuck.”

The voice chuckles. A tentacle pats the tip of your softening cock.

“Glad to hear it, stranger.” There’s the smacking of lips as they move farther away. “Your cum was so tasty.”

Considering the orgasm you just had, their voice shouldn’t be so effective in getting you hard again. But it does, cock bobbing as you imagine them in your head, sultry and presenting.

You finally pull your cock back to your side, wet and slimy as it feels. Some tissues are provided to your right, and you wipe your cock before shuffling it back into your shorts.

“We still have some time left, handsome.”

A tentacle pokes through the hole, waving your way.

“That is, if you’re up for it.”

There’s no hesitation as your fly is undone again, blood already rushing southward.

“Absolutely.”

[burnyourtrains]

SDV Bachelor/ette Headcanons!!

I was peer pressured by @jessibbb into posting these <3 (also I'm on mobile so if it looks bad no it doesn't.)

ALso divider credits to the lovely @thecutestgrotto and @saradika

Done in alphabetical order, because we're not playing favorites here

Bachelors:

Alex

I feel like he was into band when he was younger and in school, but he got bullied for it, so he switched to gridball instead. He loves gridball, but sometimes he wonders what would have happened if he stuck with the trumpet.

Jess thinks he's short, but I don't think he'd have as much arrogance/confidence that he does in game if he were short. I think he does the hands on top of the doorframe thing.

To me, he was one of those semi-annoying popular guys in high school who would interrupt the class of the younger grade and ask the teacher if she missed him.

Takes skincare seriously (ty Haley)

Helps Evelyn in the kitchen and around the house

Shockingly handy? He's good at fixing things (doesn't want to be a burden on his grandparents, and he knows George feels bad that he can't do maintenance around the house.)

He and Haley have matching friendship bracelets

Elliot

(To the Elliot stans, I'm so sorry, but I cannot stand his character. Initially I was gonna marry him but then he started talking and I just Couldn't. So here's how I thought he was going to be. (I try to keep it somewhat similar to how he is in game but I just,,,,,,,))

Very romantic

Comes on too strong at first, but once he realizes he apologizes and learns how to be one of your really close friends (unless you ever want to be more, obvs)

Loves the drama of a historical romance

Adores Jane Austen

I feel like the game suggests that he isn't very tidy, but in my mind he keeps himself and his space neat and clean. (He might have a depression pit when he's feeling morose or lacking creativity, but he gets it together after a shower or a walk)

He's not egotistical (I also feel the game implies some of this), but he's not entirely humble, either. Very self-assured, but that could possibly be to mask that he really worries about whether or not his writing career will take off.

Harvey

(Jess drew little hearts around my notes for this one lmao)

Actually very sickly as a child, which I think had a huge factor in driving him into medicine.

Likes when the farmer does his nails. It's nice to have someone want to dote on him. (He ends up taking the polish off when he has to work for sanitary purposes, but that just means you can do them again later <3)

Secretly had a piercing at one point, but he was relatively anxious about having it, even though it made him feel good about himself. Possibly anxious because it didn't fit his "image"; he doesn't have it anymore. (He was So crazy in college literally what was he thinking??????) (it was a bellybutton piercing btw)

His guilty pleasure food is ice cream don't tell

Podcast lover. (Mainly medical and aerospace)

Sam

Mans has a mullet. I will not be accepting arguments at this time

He doesn't have a favorite color, but he really loves bright ones

Definitely has ear and possibly facial piercings

Idk where I'm getting this from, it's kind of based solely on vibes, but I feel like he might be colorblind?

Loves having his makeup done

Wears minimal jewelry, but is always wearing at least one ring, whether that's on a chain or on his finger depends on the day.

Sebastian

He gets called emo but I get more punk vibes from him

When you meet him he's just starting on his second sleeve tattoo

He uses candy cigarettes when he's trying to quit smoking, partially because he thinks it's funny, and partially just because he likes the sugar

I think he feels very stuck in the persona the town has given him, so he kind of just gives up after living there for so long on trying to convince people otherwise

Ear and eyebrow piercings, at least. Very willing to accept constructive criticism here.

Probably has the chain belt thing

Rings rings rings

Shane

I feel like he's either very tall, or very short, and I cannot decide which one

Cleans up very nice after he gets sober

Raises Jas more than Marnie does (Concerning bc alcoholism, but I can't stand Marnie so. The lesser of two evils I guess?)

Regularly takes walks to ward off dark thoughts

Keg king back in his college days

Bachelorettes

These are more look-based, since Jess and I were trying to do a redesign situation. The men I was struck with sudden inspiration and clarity for how to flesh out their personalities more, but I'll have to update the character work for the women when the creativity strikes.

Abigail

I kind of get undercut vibes from her

I think she has gages, for sure

Facial piercings but idk what most of them are called. Specifically a lip piercing

She has a small stick and poke that she, Sam, and Seb designed together

The big overlined lips that were popular in 2020 (might still be popular now but I'm no longer chronically online God bless)

Tattoo choker that was popular in the early 2000s

Big shaggy wolfcut

Elevated HotTopic vibes

Emily

Mixed metal jewelry queen

Wears multiple necklaces

Hippie-esque style (they really did her dirty with her game design she looks like s clown but she's so sweet that it's Criminal)

Crystal girly (a given)

Definitely has some sort of altar set up. Idk much about witchcraft so very loosely assigning her as a crystal witch

Really likes incense

Alice Cullen haircut, y'all know the one

Haley

She has such pretty lashes, I just know it

Big yabos

Her nails are always immaculate. Despite thinking her sister is weird, I think Emily is the one who learned how to give her acrylics

Alex is definitely the person she's closest to

I don't really have that many ides for her I'm sorry :(

Leah

Very wispy, ethereal hair (1908s aogg vibes)

Former hairdresser. While she still lived in the city, she went into cosmetology since it had the opportunity to be a creative career, and her partner at the time didn't really support her in her art (I think the partner bit is canon). Ultimately, she came to resent her job, and she left the city for Stardew Valley. I think she still uses the skills and knowledge she acquired when doing her own hair, and occasionally the hair of some of the residents in the valley.

Howl's Moving Castle earrings

Honestly Howl's Moving Castle vibes overall for her style I think

Dresses masc. but in a way that still comes off as feminine, if that makes sense. Think billowy white shirt from the male lead of a period drama

Most likely covered in some sort of art medium, (acrylics, wood shavings, oil paints, etc.), in a charming way, not an unclean way.

Maru

Minimal makeup, if any at all

She has cute little stud earrings she got as a kid (they're stars)

Has an astronomy charm bracelet, but it's only worn on special occasions. I think she'd be wearing it when she shows you the telescope and tries to confess her feelings for the first time.

She's a silver girly

Little baby hairs. Give my girl Maru better hair

Lowkey loves Hello Kitty (idk where this one came from but I feel it)

Penny

Bumper bangs. In general I get very 50s vibes for style

Doesn't think she'll ever leave Stardew Valley, so she doesn't really have any huge aspirations for herself anymore.

She mostly invests herself in teaching Vincent and Jas to the best of her ability.

Would have loved to be a teacher if she were to leave, but she worries about her mother, so she's never left

I know there are some ideas on here that seem insubstantial compared to others, but this is the best I can do currently! I'd love feedback, since I'm relatively new to the fandom and the game, but I hope you enjoyed!!

[etraytin]

Old War Stories

It's interesting to talk with my WWII vet client about the war. He's 101 now but his memories of that part of his life are still clear, just tempered by the weight of years that have gone by since then. All of his old friends and comrades are dead by now, though he pays close attention when a veteran gets on the news for turning 100 or an honor flight is mentioned. Almost everyone he knew from his youth and the prime of his life are gone now, but he likes to tell stories about them. He likes telling stories about the war, mostly funny stories about how bad the sanitary conditions were or the food or being asked to build their own semi-permanent shelter and nobody knowing how. He has a great story about the time he almost got court-martialed for all but peeing on a general who happened to be walking by; it's one of his favorites.

Sometimes, though, he gets into a pensive mood and the tone of the stories changes. We were out in his yard the other evening because he wanted to trim the hedges and I was trying to keep him from breaking a hip while trimming the hedges, when something reminded him of his time in Italy. It started out with funny stories about the young guys getting lined up for medical exams and STD checks, but then wandered down other paths. He told me how they would go out into the town and the little boys who barely knew English and called all the soldiers Joe would try to tell them about their sisters who were sixteen or seventeen or eighteen and who "liked soldiers." He explained that the people in the town had nothing, they didn't have enough to eat and they would steal or do whatever they had to do. He told me that one time he made his way into the commissary area and somehow secured a big can of mixed fruit to his abdomen with a belt and managed to sneak it out and give it to some of the kids. That part of the story was funny, but he wondered aloud what happened to any of those people later on, how many of them managed to survive.

My client is proud of helping to win the war, proud of his service, proud of the friends he lost and the sacrifices they made. But he is haunted by it too, in ways that show sometimes in the stories. He says he talked with the pilot of the Enola Gay once, who came from his bombardment group and who he knew a little bit. He told me he asked the pilot if he'd do it again, and the pilot told him that he was an officer in the Army AIr Corps, under oath and under orders, and in the same circumstances he would do it again. And then my client told me another story of the first bombing mission he went on, when the bombing was a fairly new thing, and how the people in the town below heard the engines and saw the contrails and came out of their houses to look at the planes. If they'd run a few hundred yards perpendicular to the plane trajectory, my client told me, they'd have been safe. But they didn't. They didn't know any better. He decided that was enough war stories and yard work for one evening and we went inside.

[days-until-burnout]

Day 69 (b) -

Characters - Etho/Joel (ft. Other Hermits) Words - 1,050 Time - 60 mins Content - Hermitcraft | Suggestive | Part 1

"This isn't very sanitary."

Joel turned to look over his shoulder, eyes landing on Etho instantly. Etho was facing him, arms stretched along the length of the hot tub, an eyebrow quirked. He looked at him for a moment, squinted, then eased up. He let his eyelids droop a little, lips breaking into a small smirk.

"You can always leave," Joel hummed in response, his voice shattering their lack of talking. Etho sighed, dropping his head back momentarily, giving Joel the chance to eye at his exposed neck, his Adam's apple, pale skin he knew bruised easily.

When Etho rolled his head back, he found Joel still standing in place, eyeing him back as the sleeve of his robe dropped. Something caught in his throat when he realized Joel had no shirt under. Way in the back of his mind, he should not have cared, seeing as he was down to his underwear already. But Joel's eyes darkened, his smirk sharpened, and this was exactly the reaction Joel had been looking for.

"What's wrong, Eefo?" Joel purred. He raised his right hand to his left arm, slowly gliding the sleeve down to free his arm finally. As he went, he spun around to face him. A chill from the wide, open window washed over his now exposed skin. Briefly, he wanted to stop teasing and just get in the hot tub. He was crueler to himself, however.

Etho snapped his head to his right, face a bright shade of pink that could not be hidden without his mask. He bent his arm to his mouth, clearing his throat against the side of his fist, feeling way too hot all of the sudden despite the breeze sneaking in behind him.

Still, his mind was too curious, too attatched. Too drawn to Joel to think.

His eyes dropped to the bubbles in the water, his body blurring under it, and slowly, he glided his eyes over to him. Joel was no longer looking at him, fixed on the knot of his belt around his waist, the top of the robe haphazarly behind him. Joel arms and chest were naked, the lines of muscle visible with scars littering skin. There was a bruise or two, though the color was too light to be of worry.

After a second made eternity, Joel finally undid the knot. His thumbs dug into the now loose knot, tugging on opposite directions and the robe fell.

Etho looked away again, too sharp to be able to play it off. He even closed his eyes, body burning up. For moments, sweat and water blended, body drying for a second before a wave rushed up to his chest.

"Ah, much better," Joel breathed out as he sank into the bubbling water. He closed his eyes to enjoy the heat against his cool skin, then he opened one eye, tilting his head curiously as his companion. "Too hot? You're all red."

Joel was teasing him, he knew. They both were aware. Yet Etho did not look, as if not looking meant he would not be perceived either. But Joel was much too needy for attention, swiftly moving over, right beside him. Bodies brushed, intentionally so. And there was nowhere to run, though the window was an option if Etho was desperate enough.

A finger poked his bicep, followed by a giggle.

"If you're not gonna relax, you can leave."

Etho sucked a breath in then exhaled slowly, relaxing his shoulders as much as he could before prying one eye open. Joel was looking up at him, green eyes and a wide smile, and that was enough to finally make him let go. He dropped his head in the other direction, easing into a smile.

Unlike Etho, Joel had his chest against the wall of the tub, arms crossed over it loosely. Joel nested his head in his arms, eyes glinting when Etho held eye-contact.

"No one want to hang out with you?"

Joel's eyes went wide, lips parting with an offended gasp. When he pushed himself up, the water thrashed, spilling against their chests and gliding down. He moved over to him, unsure if to argue or fight, but he was moving and Etho responded.

Since Etho was sitting, he was sturdier compared to Joel's flailing, so it was easy to 'catch' him and pull him down, the thinnest layer of water caught between their chests. He had Joel's right wrist in his hand, his right arm wrapped around his side, holding him tight against him.

Joel fought for a second, giving up shortly after since, again, Etho was a more solid position. He settled, dropping his forehead on Etho's collarbone hard, then he looked up, smiling. Etho squinted down at him, and Joel tried to play it off, looking down at Etho's naked body.

Lips pressed into Etho's skin, short kisses with smiles. Etho's hands tightened on his body, but he was not deterred, pushing to trap him against the wall of the tub. His lips bounced up leisurely until he pressed against his Adam's apple, smile widening before lightly grazing his teeth on trembling skin.

Etho shuddered, sighing as Joel kissed the underside of his jaw.

"Whoa! Bad timing!"

Joel jumped back, startled. The only reason he did not fall back first into the water was because Etho was holding him, not having let go despite being walked-in on. He blushed hard, snapping his head to the top of the stairs where their friends were, smirks and amused eyes. When he looked back at Etho, he saw him looking into the water, facing away from them.

Joel did not know how it happened. From one moment to the next, their private moment was interrupted, and the spacious hot tub was soon not.

Etho was in front of him, mask back on despite the steam and heat. Cleo on his right, Tango on his left. Scar was on Joel's left, Pearl on his right, Gem tucked between Pearl's legs as they had ran out sitting space.

They were talking about stuff, though Joel was paying no attention. Etho was, now mostly back to normal, or at least putting up a good front. He splashed some water between his hands, sighing.

Etho caught his eye, and Joel shrugged with a smile.

_____

the sillies. the absolute sillies. i miss them</3

[ashs-cardboard-box]

In sync

~ Trans masc!Arthur Morgan/Trans masc!Reader

~ Romantic

~ 1k words

CW; periods, dysphoria, time appropriate trans/homophobia/racism/misogyny, mention of lynching

Oddly really fluffy (I have cavities from just writing it)

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Being both transgender and homosexual men was as good enough a reason as any for lynching. You and Arthur were no different. As secretive as you tried to be, somehow, someway, it always managed to get out around whatever town you found yourself in. It didn’t help that the pair of you were always surrounded by other minorities like Charles, Lenny, Tilly, Abigail, Sadie, Susan or otherwise.

Ever since you had joined the gang all those years ago, surprisingly, most of them have been supportive of you. Albeit, not without questions, of course. Micah, however, was always an exception to this. He was a sour man and refused to accept anyone that wasn’t himself nor Dutch.

Despite this, you and Arthur had been largely accepted throughout the gang. Seen as nothing less than another brother in the family. Your bodies were different than a typical males, yet that didn’t stop either of you from properly completing your tasks on time.

That is, until, the dreadful month always rears its ugly head again. You had a particular disdain for those damn sanitary belts. They chafed like no other and were all in all uncomfortable. Arthur, however, powered through the discomfort. You almost envied him at times.

The two of you lie on your cot together in your tent, just in your union suits. Your chests bound with that familiar, overly tight fabric that seemed to crush the organs underneath. Not a word his shared for quite a long time. Only the occasional whimper or groan as another wave of cramps hit either of you.

Arthur’s head rests comfortably on your chest, his hand resting just above where your uterus would be. Stroking the wool of your union suit in an attempt to relieve your discomfort, despite feeling his own. Your hand combs through his hair and down the back of his skull repetitively until your hand goes numb.

“This sucks..” you grumble, complaining about it just like you do every month. Arthur chuckles in agreement, rumbling low in his chest. “Wish I were a man, y’know?” you continue with a short sigh. Your muscles tensing as a cramp constricts your inside. You’d rather get stabbed than deal with this.

“Hey.” Arthur chides, looking up towards you with his brows furrowed, causing his forehead to wrinkle. “I don’t wanna hear you talk like that.” “It’s the truth..” you try to protest, but Arthur isn’t having any of it. He lifts his head from your chest and props himself up on his elbow to look down towards you on your back.

“What? You sayin’ you actually like it?” you tease, a grin splitting across your face as he rolls his eyes. Before you can even register what he’s doing, Arthur is straddling your thighs and peering down at you, raising an eyebrow sternly. Leaning down, he begins to place several kisses across your face without a word of explanation.

“Arthur-” you start, only to get cut off by a gruff “admit it.” You were confused and starting to feel flustered. Your cheeks flushing a light tinge of pink. Your hands moving down to Arthur’s hips, your thumbs caressing over his union suit, feeling the sanitary belt underneath. Annoyingly, your cycles had synced with almost every womans’ in camp.

“Admit what?” you retort with a giggle as he continues to kiss your face. Your forehead, cheeks, bridge, nose, lips, chin..not an inch of skin is missed. Your hands move up to Arthur’s chest, placing your hands on his breasts and gently pushing on them to try and get him to quit. Knowing he’s as sensitive as you are, you don’t push hard. Trying to avoid unfastening his chest wrap.

“Admit you are one. You’re my handsome man. Most handsome man I ever met.” He murmurs against your skin, only stopping to look into your eyes. His elbows digging into the cot just above your shoulders. Both of you can feel the other’s breath hitting your faces– breathing slightly heavier due to your hearts racing.

“Sure as hell don’t feel like it..” you mumble, to which Arthur sighs in mock exasperation. Diving back down and trailing kisses across your cheeks and jawline, slowly making his way down your neck. His body tensing atop yours with a small grunt of pain as a particularly painful cramp twists in his gut. You remove one of your hands from his chest and place it on his abdomen in between your bodies, rubbing small circles like he had done for you.

As Arthur gets to a particularly sensitive spot on your neck, you squirm as a ticklish feeling overtakes you. Raising your shoulder and tilting your head to try and squeeze Arthur out of such an area. Laughing and struggling underneath him at his relentless attack.

“O-Okay! Okay! I give! I’m a man; your handsome man-” you cave in between breaths. Arthur sits back up with a satisfied smirk. Even if he hadn’t managed to rid your dysphoria completely, he sure as hell made you distracted enough to feel a bit better. “You’re a prick.” you chuckle with a shake of your head, trailing your hands down his body appreciatively and resting on his thighs.

“You know you love me.” Arthur retorts teasingly, leaning down to place one last kiss onto your forehead before he slides off of you, going back to laying next to you. He lazily lays one of his arms over your midsection, encouraging you closer.

“Unfortunately..” you groan in faux irritation, complying with his request and shifting closer to him. Laying your head on his bound chest as he wraps his arm around your back, rubbing it up and down soothingly. Your own hand returns to rub his sore abdomen, feeling the waistband of the sanitary belt underneath his red union suit. “If I’m your handsome man, then you’re mine.”

Arthur chuckles quietly and buries his nose into your hair, followed by a deep sigh. “‘M happy with that..” he mumbles. Even if it wasn’t an easy time for either of you, having each other’s support and love always made it easier to handle.

....................................................................................................

some t4t cause I can !!! >:3

[girlactionfigure]

THURSDAY HERO: Armin Wegner 

Armenian refugees photographed by Armin Wegner, 1915

Armin Wegner was a German soldier stationed in the Ottoman Empire during World War I who was  witness to the Armenian Genocide. Disobeying orders, he gathered extensive documentation and took hundreds of photographs of atrocities committed against Armenians. Later, Armin became a fearless peace activist who was imprisoned for standing up to Hitler.

Armin was born in 1886 to an aristocratic Prussian family in the Rhineland area of Germany. He was educated at schools in Poland and Switzerland, and was a gifted poet, publishing his first volume of poetry, “I Have Never Been Older than as a Sixteen-year-old” as a teenager. He attended law school, but had the soul of an artist and spent the next couple of years (in his own words) as a “farmer, dock-worker, student of drama (with Max Reinhardt), private tutor, editor, public speaker, lover and idler, filled with a deep desire for unraveling the mystery of things.”

When World War I broke out in 1914, Armin joined the German army, serving as a medic in Poland. He received the Iron Cross for rendering care under fire. Armin rose to rank of second lieutenant in the German Sanitary Corps and was sent to the Middle East as part of a detachment to assist the Ottoman Army.

Stationed along the Baghdad Railway in Syria and modern-day Iraq, Armin was shocked to witness thousands of emaciated Armenian refugees forced onto death marches by the Ottomans. The horrifying reality of what was happening was being hidden, and Armin was ordered to keep quiet about what he saw as Germany did not want to alienate the Ottoman Empire, an important ally. Disobeying what he felt was a deeply unjust order, Armin went to great effort to collect proof about the systematic massacre of Armenians – the first modern genocide. Armin was willing to risk his life to document what was happening, and his extensive photographic record remains the most important evidence of the atrocities that occurred.

The Ottomans eventually found out what Armin was doing, and he was arrested by the Germans and sent back to Germany. Some of his photographs were destroyed, but he was able to smuggle out many negatives hidden in his belt.

After the war, Armin became a successful journalist and prominent anti-war activist. In 1919 he published an “Open Letter to President Woodrow Wilson” urging the peace conference to create an independent Armenian state.

He wrote extensively about the Armenian Genocide and testified in court at the trial of Soghomon Tehlirian, an Armenian who killed Talat Pasha, the Ottoman leader who orchestrated the atrocity. Armin’s testimony was so powerful that the court could not convict Tehirian for the assassination, even though there were many eyewitnesses. He was found not guilty for reason of temporary insanity.

Armin was a respected writer and cultural figure who co-created the German Expressionist movement in the mid-1920’s. After visiting the Soviet Union, including the Soviet Socialist Republic of Armenia with his wife, author Lola Landau, Armin wrote a book about his trip, which became a bestseller. It was a chilling account of the political violence endemic to Soviet Communist rule. At a time when many in the West were romanticizing the Bolsheviks, Armin was one of the few who could see where the situation was headed: totalitarian Stalinism.

Meanwhile in Germany, Hitler and the Nazi power gained power and in 1933 they urged a nationwide boycott of Jewish businesses. As someone who witnessed the Armenian Genocide and had many Jewish friends, Armin could not remain silent. He wrote an open letter to Adolf Hitler identifying himself as a proud Prussian who could trace his roots in Germany back to the time of the Crusades. In clear language he told Hitler that his persecution of Germany’s Jews would destroy the country. “There is no Fatherland without justice!” he said. Armin was the only writer to speak out publicly against Hitler. Swiftly, he was arrested by the Gestapo, tortured and imprisoned in harsh conditions for a year. In 1934 Armin was released, and immediately fled to Rome, where he changed his name and lived in hiding. His wife divorced him, leading Armin to later say, “Germany took everything from me… even my wife.” He never returned to his beloved homeland. For being the only cultural figure in Germany to speak out for the Jews, Israeli Holocaust Memorial Yad Vashem honored Armin Wegner as Righteous Among the Nations in 1967.

Armin died alone in Rome in 1978, at age 92. Per his request, his gravestone contains a quote from Pope Gregory VII as he lay on his deathbed in 1085: “I loved justice and hated injustice/Therefore I die in exile.”

For bravely documenting the Armenian Genocide, and standing up to Hitler at great personal sacrifice, we honor Armin Wegner as this week’s Thursday Hero.

[shiftingwithmars]

“Men created literally everything! What have women ever created?🙄”

dishwashers

Wifi

life raft

airplane muffler

anti-fungal drug

beer

bulletproof fiber

car heater

chemotherapy

fire escape

geobond

globes

gifs

hairbrush

home security system

medical syringe

MBTI

naturally colored cotton

paper bag machine

pastry fork

permanent wave machine

Pertussis Vaccine

photo enhancement

radium and polonium

ReCell

Retractable dog leash

rolling pin

sanitary belt

signal flares

science fiction

space station batteries

stem cell isolation

submarine telescope and lamp

thermoelectric power generator

VoIP

waterproof leather protector

windshield wipers

computer programming

Apgar score

dna double helix

kevlar

you know, a lot of stuff that has either

A) saved your life

or

B) something you use in everyday life!

[tinybookgirl]

Makeshift Knives And Built In Locks

The classic story of how Doofenshmirtz lost his arm.

Also on AO3

It didn’t actually hurt all that much anymore, and Heinz was just aware enough to know that that was not a good thing.

It had been- actually he wasn’t sure how long he had been lying here. It must have been a few hours at least because it was darker than had it been earlier. He had already run his voice out screaming, begging for anyone to help. No one had come- they were far enough away from Gimmelshtump that no one would hear him, and the ocelots had ran away when the rocks fell. Heinz wasn’t as fast as they were, he hadn’t been able to dodge. He had tripped, and then before he knew it a boulder the size of a car had landed directly across his arm.

He supposed he should be lucky all that was trapped was his arm. It would have been just his luck to have it crush him completely, but he couldn’t appreciate that right now. Heinz really didn’t want to be out here when it got dark. The cave he lived in with the ocelots was safe, but out in the woods? There were all sorts of creatures that could find him. And they would find him. If the pork scent that always followed him wasn’t enough, the scent of his blood would certainly do the trick.

Heinz pulled uselessly against his arm. That only sent shock of pain into his shoulder. He was getting dizzy. How much blood could someone lose before they died? He had already lost a lot, soaking into the rags of his clothes and pooling into the dirt underneath him. Each time he tried to pull at his arm, he though he lost a little more.

He tried another tactic of using his free arm to push at the boulder. He screeched as pain rocketed down his shoulder and all the way through the rest of him.

The ocelots weren’t coming back, Heinz realized. Did they even realize he was gone? Even if they did come looking for him, they didn’t actually have hands. They couldn’t get the boulder off him. They just had-

They had teeth, and they had claws.

Heinz could already hear creatures moving through the woods. He didn’t have teeth or claws, but he did have- well, it wasn’t so much a knife, as it was a sharp piece of metal he had taken from the Gimmelshtump dump. He used it to slice of meat from their kills once he had realized trying to do so with his bare hands was useless. Sometimes Mama Ocelot would do it for him, but sometimes she was out or attending to his ocelot brother and sister instead.

It was an awkward reach with his free arm, but he pull it out from his belt. He grabbed a nearby branch, sticking it between his teeth. He was shaking. Something in the woods roared. Even trapped on the forest floor, he could feel the trees shaking.

Heinz placed the knife as close to the boulder as he could get. Clamping down on the branch in a vain attempt to muffle his screams, Heinz began sawing.

*

Heinz woke up to something licking at his arm. He tried to push it away only his arm wouldn’t move. Whatever was licking at him really hurt to. His other arm moved though and he reached over to find the thing licking his arm was his ocelot brother. He tried to figure out why his arm wouldn't move only to- oh. Right.

Heinz didn’t really know how he had made it back to the ocelots cave. He had found a bit of a stream, washing the stump of his arm the best he could and managing a bandage for it. It had still hurt. Hurt was an understatement, every step had sent waves of pain through it.

At least he had managed to make it back to the cave. He used his good arm to scratch behind his ocelots brother’s ears. He purred, abandoning the licking to nuzzle into Heinz’s side instead.

Was saliva sanitary? Human saliva had all sorts of proprieties like painkillers, did ocelots have that as well? Oh he could really go for a painkiller right now. He had never actually had one before, not the fancy pills that got imported from outside Drusselstein. Those were expensive. They had never had many in the first place, and they certainly weren’t going to be wasted on him.

Heinz blinked up at the cave ceiling. Everything was slightly blurry. His ocelot sister curled into his other side.

Could limbs grow back? That sounded right. The Gimmelshtump semi-public library didn’t have a very good biology section, or a very impressive any section, and he preferred mechanics and engineering. He was certain that he had read something about limbs growing back.

Yes, that was right. He had once seen Boris pull the tail off of a lizard. Heinz had caught it afterwards, taken it back home and before long it had grown a new tail entirely. Arms weren’t all that different from tails.

Of course not long after that his mother had found out Heinz was keeping a ‘filthy lizard’ in her house and that had turned into a whole different mess. He hadn’t been able to sit down for days. It still hadn’t compared to the beating he had gotten after she had found him hiding Hoarfrost in the woodshed. That had left him aching for weeks.

Heinz closed his eyes. His arm would grow back, and then everything could go back to the way it had been.

*

Heinz was only barely aware of the next few days. He sent most of it lying in the cave, only getting up when he absolutely had to. Mama Ocelot brought him meat, most of the time Heinz tried to cook it, but right now he simply couldn’t be bothered. He had tried to wash and rebandage the stump of his arm, but walking made him dizzy and the arm didn’t look like it was growing back. In fact, it looked like it was getting worse.

He threw up everything Mama Ocelot brought him. He managed a handful of wild doonkelberries from where they grew by the stream, and threw those up to. His arm felt even worse than it had at the beginning. The end of it felt like it was constantly on fire and instead of scabbing over properly the whole area was turning into a field of swollen blisters and pustules. That, Heinz knew, was very much not good.

He tried using his knife to pop them, squeezing out pus and blood. The pain rippled through his entire body, Heinz only barely managing to keep himself was passing out, although he did vomit anything still left in his stomach, although at this point that wasn’t much. He had washed it and rebandaged it except he was running out of anything to actually bandage it with. And by the next day, it felt as bad as it had before.

This, Heinz though, was not going to work. He needed more than water and vaguely clean rags only the only place he could get anything else was Gimmelshtump.

He wasn’t that far from Gimmelshtump. Sometimes when hunting with the ocelots they got close enough to the village that he could hear the creaking of the shaft. It wouldn’t take long to get there.

He couldn’t go to the hospital. No one went to the hospital unless they were dying or giving birth, not that his own mother had even bothered going at all, but they would almost certainly hand hi right back to his parents.

Sure, the cave was freezing in the winter, and the cave floor wasn’t all that comfortable. He didn’t have anyone that he could actually talk to, and if he didn’t get to the meat fast enough his ocelot brother and sister were likely to take it before he could. The water in the nearby stream wasn’t actually all that clean so much of the time it was filled with the polluted runoff from Gimmelshtump, but he drank it anyway. Mama Ocelot was prone to what Heinz could only describe as mood swings, if ocelots could even have those, and therefore sometimes clawed at him rather than cared for him.

He would rather take all of that than go back to his parents.

There was- well, she wasn’t exactly a doctor, but she ran the only apothecary in town and handled pretty much everything that wasn’t going to immediately kill you. She didn’t get along with his parents, meaning she probably wouldn’t bother going after them. The only problem was that she also hated him.

It wasn’t growing back though, and if the infection got any worse Heinz knew it could kill him. He didn’t think he had another option at this point except to go back go Gimmelshtump and hope he could make it to the apothecary without passing or, or finding someone who would tell his parents.

That was all. He would go to the apothecary, get whatever medicine she was willing to give him, then he could come right back and wait for his arm to start growing back.

Piece of cake.

Not that Heinz had a lot of experience with cake.

*

Heinz stood on the edge of the forest, leaning heavily against a tree. He had hoped that maybe his arm would have been better when he woke up, so he wouldn’t even need to do this. As always he had been disappointed If anything, it looked even worse. It felt worse too.

Every step had hurt. He was hungry and thirsty but he knew he wouldn’t be able to keep anything down. His head ached, he had kept stumbling although whether that was from his balance being thrown off or just being dizzy he wasn’t sure. Either way it had taken him a lot longer than he had expected to make it to Gimmelshtump. He had hoped to arrive in the middle of the day, when people were at work or school and the streets weren’t so empty. Instead, it was evening and everyone was out.

At the very least, he was on the far side of the village from his parents house.

The noise only made his headache worse. He hadn’t come this close to the village in months. The woods couldn’t be called quiet, there was always noise. Wind, or animals rooting in the brush, birds chirping, twigs snapping, the ocelots purring or growling or scratching their claws along the stone. This was not just loud though, it was cacophonous.

People were shouting to each other, cars and wagons rattled through the streets. Horse whinnied, dogs were barking, goats were bleating. Somewhere a group of children were yelling as they played. The shaft creaked overhead. Every noise seemed to dig into his skull, making him wonder if going back to the cave and hoping for the best would be better.

Heinz took a breath, pushed himself off of the tree, tried to ignore the stabbing in his arm, and darted out of the trees.

Within in moments he was very aware that everyone was staring at him. Oh- of course they were. He was filthy, barefoot, his clothes ragged and dirty. His hair was long and tangled, and all of that was before the fact that he only had one arm, the other wrapped in a bloodstained bandage. The smell of pork that always followed him was likely worse than every, and now he probably smelled like blood as well.

Fine. It didn’t matter. They could stare at him all they wanted because he wasn’t going to be here for much longer anyway. As soon as he got what he needed, he was gone again.

Heinz stopped, squinting up at a street sign. What road was the apothecary on again? He knew what it looked like, he had been sent to her before when his mother wasn’t feeling well late (she would never risk sending Roger out on his own). He knew how to get there from his parents house. As soon as he figured out where he was, he could find it. Gimmelshtump wasn’t big, it couldn’t be that hard.

Someone knocked into him. Heinz screeched, only barely managing to avoid falling completely. He reached out to steady himself, grabbing onto someone’s skirts.

Whoever he had grabbed let out a screech in return, swatting him away like a fly.

Heinz let go, stumbling back. He looked up to see a woman glaring down at him. Heinz though he recognized her, but he wasn’t sure. Did run the bakery? No, maybe she was on of his mothers friends? No, she managed the claw machine district. That was it. He still couldn’t remember her name, but at least he had an idea of who she was.

“Filthy child-” she wrinkled her nose at him. “Aren’t you the Doofenshmirtz boy?”

Heinz didn’t get to answer before she finished taking him in realized exactly what she was looking at.

“Oh my-”

Heinz ran.

He knocked over more than one person as he fled, ignoring the yells after him. He darted down streets at random. He didn’t want to see anyone who knew who he was. He didn’t want to see anyone who might talk to his parents. They didn’t want him. He didn’t want them to know where he was.

What if they made him come back?

He skidded to a halt. He was at the edge of the kickball field. A group of children were busy playing, including Roger.

Heinz made a face. He was panting heavily. The running had only made everything worse. He had to get out of here before Roger saw him. This wasn’t worth it. He would go back to the ocelots and take his chances.

He leaned over, attempting to brace his hands on his knees, only to lose his balance, falling hard to the ground.

The kickball bumped against his feet.

“I’ll get it!” A girls voice called. Someone picked it up. “Heinz?”

Heinz looked up. It was Grulinda, her glasses askew and her hair frizzy and out of place.

“What are you-” Grulinda’s eyes widened. She dropped the kickball, kneeling down next to him. She reached out towards his missing arm. “Heinz, what happened?”

Heinz slapped her hand away. He tried to stand back up, only to immediately fall back into the dirt.

“Go away!” Heinz shouted. His voice was wheezy and dry from disuse, and soar from screaming.

“Heinz, I think you need help!” Grulinda reached out once again, attempting to held him stand. Her hand landed directly across the stump.

Heinz screamed. She may as well have stabbed him with a hot poker. He couldn’t breath, his breathe coming in short useless bursts. His vision went black. He pulled away from her, scrambling back along the ground.

“Go away!” Heinz shrieked. “Go away! Go away!”

Grulinda jumped back. She left the kickball where it was, running back to the field.

“Roger! Roger! Your brother is here! I think he needs help!”

Not Roger. Heinz didn’t want to see Roger. He didn’t want Roger to get their parents.

Heinz tried to stand. This time, he barely managed it. Black spots danced across his eyes.

Everyone on the field was heading his way now, Roger at the very front.

Panic welled up in Heinz. He stumbled away, probably not as fast as he wanted. A loose cobblestone jutted out through the ground. Heinz slammed his foot right into it. He tumbled into the dirt, and everything went black

*

Heinz groaned, opening his eyes to see- wood.

He squeezed his eyes shut and then opened them again. Yes, that was definitely wood overhead. Whatever he was lying on was soft, much softer than his bed in the cave-

Oh.

This was his bed. It was awkward and lumpy and creaked every time he moved but his parents had always said it would be a waste of money to get a new one, even though Roger got something new whenever he wanted.

Something was clacking softly next to him. Heinz turned his head to see his mother. She was seated next to his bed, frowning over her knitting. She looked the same as ever, her plain dress and apron, her hair yanked back harshly into a bun.

She looked up as he moved, her frown deepening. Her knitting needles kept moving. “Finally, you are awake. You slept long enough.”

Heinz squinted blearily around the bedroom. It was his bedroom, although it had never really been his. It was mostly a storage room with a bed and dresser crammed into the corner. He was surprised the bed was even still here. It was just as crammed as ever, probably even more so, but Heinz was having a hard time cataloging what was a new addition.

He looked down at his arm. The rest of him was still filthy, and he was wearing the same rags he had before, but the bandages around his arm were fresh and clean. He shifted his shoulder experimentally. It still hurt when he moved it, but it was infinitely better than it had been. He reached out with his good hand to feel into the empty space.

“It’s not growing back.”

His mother made a face, slamming her knitting down as she stood.

“Habengoosher,” she muttered, “you crawl back here after all these months and you cannot even come back whole. You,” she pointed at him accusingly, “should be thanking your brother. Roger got a doctor for you. He’s a good boy.” The unlike you hung unsaid, but Heinz didn’t need her to say it to know that it was there.

She made to leave, apparently having only been waiting for him to wake up, but stopped in the doorway. “Clean yourself up. You will be doing lawn gnome duty tonight.”

“What?” Heinz sat up. He found the window, the shuttered were closed, but there was enough light to tell that it was daylight. How long had he been asleep for? “But-”

“But what?” she snapped. “You come back here, you are going to contribute. It has been too long since we have had someone protecting our garden. It’s not as though you are good for anything else.”

Heinz shrunk back onto the bed as the door slammed behind her. He pressed the palm of his hand against his eyes. He knew it would be no good to argue. It would be no good to claim he hadn’t wanted to come back. It would be no good to point out that they were the ones who wanted to get rid of him in the first place.

The door opened again. Heinz expected to see his mother again, but this time it was Roger.

“Heinz?”

Heinz glared at him. He wouldn’t cry, not in front of Roger. “What do you want?”

“Where have you been?” Roger asked. “What happened to your arm?”

Heinz rolled onto his side, glad that his good arm allowed him to face the wall so he didn’t have to look at Roger’s smug, self satisfied face. He probably though he was some kind of hero for finding his poor lost brother. For dragging him back home like a dog playing fetch.

“Why do you care?” Heinz grumbled.

“You scared everyone at the park,” Roger said. “The doctor said it was really infected. If you hadn’t come home you could have died.”

Heinz didn’t answer. He shut his eyes, hoping desperately that Roger would simply leave on his own.

“Grulinda was asking about you,” Roger continued. “She wanted me to tell you she’s sorry for grabbing you. She didn’t think it would hurt so bad.”

“Go away.” Heinz said flatly. He didn’t want to hear Roger talking about his friends and his life and everything that made Roger perfect.

Roger lingered in the doorway a moment longer.

“I’m glad you came back.”

Heinz didn’t answer him. Roger left, the door closing behind his. Heinz’s room only had a lock on the outside, not the inside. Roger didn’t lock it when he left, but as far as Heinz was concerned he may as well have. He was trapped here either way.

[cosmica-candy]

Hi I absolutely adore electrolyte I would die for him. He should be friends with my xylitol nova kid mayhaps

Oh oh oh you like Electrolyte cookie? Here he is! And below the cut? Fan fic draft + more art 💙

Deep space, sugar star belt, 12:38 am, Xylitol time.

Xylitol Nova cookie was stepping down the hallways, a small note pad in his hand,

repare ward, check

Ship docks, check

Housing wing, check

Lounge wing, check

He sighed flipping through his notes

Check, check, check, check, double check

Then his eyes caught it, an in checked line

Children's and Infant hospital wing he smiled keenly to himself tucking it away in his breast pocket

"How have I missed that?" He sighed no matter, he quickly turned heel making a quick pace for the hospital again...

His heels clicked on the floor as the fellow cookies at bots stepped out of there leaders way, giving a buzz, salute or bow to him.

Walking to the reception window, he looked at his influx of happy and healthy new parents and families, a strange pull in heart loomed... He never had parents. Just a lab grown body designed to lead. It was him. Always him. History has his eyes on him.

"Xylitol Nova! Sir! What an pleasant surprise!" Cooed the charge nurse Orbit, her white hair pulled into a messy bun, once being prim and proper... "What brings you to our side of the hospital?"

"Ah...Yes I wanted to say hello to the new little ones...I"

"Wanted something to do sir?"

He chuckled putting up his hands "guilty has charged"

The two walked through the hallways the Florencent lights shining through the sanitary halls, Orbit and Nova stopped at a large window looking at the nursery... Many freshly baked and bundled babies laied in an organized comb, all of them with charts lovingly written on by adoring parents, all...

But one.

Xylitols brow cocked "Who's that little one? third row fourth on the left"

Nurse Orbit sighed "That would be little Electrolyte...No known father... Mother ....Just passed on..."

Xylitols flinched “so that's who that ping was earlier....“ He thought... "An orphan? What's to happen to him?"

"well, if no one is to claim him... He will be enrolled in the ranger program and become an asset to the planet..." Nurse orbit stated "its the best place for an orphan seeing how tight knit the rangers are... A found family would adore a little bundle of joy..."

"...And no ones been interested in him..?"

"Unfortunately...with his hair color and his eyes, No..."

Nova placed a hand on the glass staring in... "....May I hold him?" His voice dripped with sorrow, all the nurses froze there heads whipping to gaze at there dear leader...

Nurse Orbit nodded adjusting her glasses... "o-of course sir..right this way..."

Leading into the warm, sterile nursery, Novas heart pounded stepping closer and closer to the infant... His eyes were closed, his deep black hair was streaked with strands and baby blue, his deep olive skin were painted by two rosy blushed cheeks.

He squirmed a bit being scooped up by orbit, before being gently placed into novas arms... He held a child before...but this...was different.

He felt time slow down, the warmth of the little bundle in his arms, all he could tell was this little life in his strong arms, completely helpless...yet. alone.

Tears trickled down thed leaders face as he held the child, gently falling into the boys cheek, he stirred awake cooing softly... His eyes fluttered open revealing pools of baby blue, untouched by the pain and grief of the cosmos

He sniffled ”Hello little one..." Nova cooed gently bouncing the bundle in his arms, Electrolyte smiled up at him his tiny arm reaching up to him, his tiny hands grabbing up twords him, Nova A big intrigued brought his free hand to him... Electrolyte cooed

Wrapping around Xylitols finger.

Xylitol gasped softly his eyes welling with more tears than he had wept in the past century. He cuddled the boy lifting him up to his chest cooing down at him...

Nurse Orbit was equally as tearful, she held unto her badge smiling at her leader

"I'll take him" Nova whimpered holding his new son close to his chest.

[marzipanandminutiae]

I don't know if you've ever talked about this before but you seem like you'd know. That post about split crotch drawer made me wonder, what did women in those times do when they got their periods? If the crotch is split you can't really put a "pad" or equivalent absorbent material down there or anything. And no one wants to get blood on their clothes and stuff so they probably did something?

What I've heard called a "t-bandage" at the time! Waistband + homemade cloth bandage pinned or buttoned to the front and back that runs between your legs. Unpin/unbutton the bandage when it's soiled put on another, wash the first one. Repeat as needed every month. (Some women also used homemade tampons- a roll of cotton-wool batting with a string around the middle.)

Unfortunately most of what we know about 19th-century menstrual supplies comes from anonymous surveys conducted by (cis male) gynecologists, since women could sometimes be loath to talk about such things even in their own journals- though a few extant examples of T-bandages have been found. This also means we don't know what trans men did at the time, since presumably they were wearing masculine underwear (usually a closed crotch that could be opened to use the bathroom) and would therefore have run up against the issues women would later face re: closed-crotch undergarments + sanitary belts.

Because, oh yes- the T-belt model remained common LONG after modern panties and disposable pads were invented. They were commonly called sanitary belts, and as you can imagine...they were a huge pain! because they weren't invented for the clothing they were now being paired with! this incongruity in the pace of change, I will never fathom

anyway, there's your answer

[discount-shades]

Dead or Alive: Family

Dead or Alive: Sugar and Jake 

A/N: Someone asked if I was going to write about when Sugar told Jake she couldn’t have kids so here it is. It got away from me a bit…

Pairing: Jake Seresin/Reader 

Warning: Trigger Warning: Abortion, Fertility problems, Western themed violence. 

Word Count: 1200 ish

Summary: Some updates on Sugar and Jake after they leave the Dagger Gang.

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Frozen, you stare at the sheets before you. A smear of blood blemishes the otherwise snowy white bed linens. Another month and you were not pregnant. Blinking back tears, you pull out the sanitary belt from where you had tucked it in the back of the drawer before dressing for the day. Your time of the month was only a few days late and as much as you fought against it, as much as you tried to squash it down, you had hoped that this time it would be different. 

Angrily you began to strip the bottom sheet off the bed. You had just put fresh linens on yesterday. Now you had to spend an hour washing and ironing it all again. You dump the sheet in the wash bin on the porch and begin filling it up from the pump by the back door. 

Jake had been away last night. He had spent the evening on guard duty at the local jail cell. You shake your head ruefully at the change in circumstances. Move a few states east and Jake would be the prisoner that needed guarding and not the deputy holding the keys. 

You will never forget the day that the sheriff had arrived at your door. Jake had volunteered to ride in a posse a month earlier and had helped apprehend a man accused of murdering a gold miner a few towns over. You weren't sure of the details, you only know that Jake had saved the sheriff's life. 

When you answered the door the sheriff had held up wanted posters with Jake’s and your real names without saying anything. As you stared into eyes the uncommonly accurate likeness of your own poster you had felt your stomach drop to the floorboards. You tore your eyes away and gazed at the blue sky and the California mountains towering over the small farm you and Jake had built. The dirt road trampled into the dirt led to the idyllic little town you had settled beside. Everything you had ever wanted was right here and you had brushed aside a tear, sure that the jig was up.

You clutched at Jake’s hand as the sheriff spoke. “Before these came in I was planning on asking if you wanted one of these officially.” He had held up a shiny, sliver deputy’s badge to Jake. “I did some thinking and the offer still stands for Mr. Smith.” He used the fake name the two of you had been living under. “Or I’ll allow Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin and his wife one week to leave town, if that is your decision.”

He handed the badge to Jake. “If you want the job Mr Smith, I expect to see you tomorrow and I’ll read you in.” He passed you the posters. “If I do not see you tomorrow I will be back in a week to arrest the both of you.” With a final look that ensured that you and Jake understood his meaning, he tipped his hat and walked away.  

That was seven years ago now and the only thing that had changed was the sheriff was now talking about retiring and had been encouraging Jake to run for sheriff when he did. Your mind returns to the task at hand and you grab the soap and washboard and begin to scrub the stain on the corrugated washboard. Once the mark is as clean as you will get it you wring out the heavy sheet and hang it on the line. Maybe you won’t bother ironing it again. Jake won’t care and no one else would notice if your linens had wrinkles.

After milking the cow and collecting the eggs you head inside and start on breakfast. Jake should be home soon. You are just finishing breakfast when he canters up on the pinto horse he had taken to riding since retiring Jet. The old black gelding now spent his days teaching manners to weanling foals and napping in the shade. You turn to smile at Jake as he walks through the door but your lower lip begins to tremble when you see the look on his face.  He knows what the sheet hanging on the line means. 

Forcing an overly cheery greeting past your lips you turn back to the stove so you don’t have to see the disappointment in his eyes. “It’s scrambled eggs and bacon for breakfast today.” You begin to plate the food, hoping that the familiar routine will calm your emotions.

Jake’s arms wrapping around you finally slows your movements and you lean back into his chest. “It’s never going to happen.” It is easier to speak the thought that has been sitting in your mind for years if you do not have to look him in the eye.

“You don’t know that.” His lips are soft as gently kisses your temple. “It might still happen.”

“No,” You sigh, finally ready to confess the secret you have been keeping from your husband. “It won’t.”

Turning in his arms you look up into his green eyes. “I was pregnant before.” You watch his eyes widen in shock but he doesn’t let you go, in fact he tightens his grip on your waist. “It was before us, I was barely 18.” You continue waiting for him to push you away.

“It was before the quickening, but it had recently been made illegal so a doctor wouldn’t do it.” You can’t read his expression and don’t know if you should continue but find that you are unable to stop. The secret has been eating at you for years. “I tried tansy, pennyroyal, gin, hot baths… but nothing would work, eventually the madam where I was working made it happen.” You brush a tear away and drop your gaze, unable to meet his eye anymore.

“There was an infection. A doctor did treat me for that, and he said I might never be able to get pregnant.” You watch Jake’s chest as he takes a deep breath and sighs it out before pulling you in for a hug. He gently cradles the back of your head as silent tears slip down your face. 

“So it will just be you and me then.” His chest rumbles under your ear at his words and you pull back to meet his eyes sniffing. 

“Are you ok with that?” You search his face as he smiles sadly down at you.

Jake gives a little shrug. “I can imagine my life without children.” He gently kisses your lips. “What I can’t imagine is a life without you, Sugar.”

“You would have been a great father.” You say thinking about seeing him interact with the local school children. 

“And you would have been a great mother.” You brush a tear away at his words but your heart feels lighter at his easy acceptance of your past. You no longer have to pretend that you are expecting to get pregnant. You no longer have to fake anticipation and hope that you have long given up on. 

“I guess it’s just the way it goes sometimes.” You are finally able to bring a small, sad smile to your lips. “Some things are not meant to be.”

[meowjaa]

✧ levi having a massive crush on y/n ✧

a/n: some cute little ideas like sort of scenarios BUT I CAN JUST IMAGINE THIS TITLED "levi having a massive crush on y/n for 5 minutes" like one of those type videos but heres a bullet list of those anyways enjoy my loves <33

After seeing Y/N trip over nothing, Levi sarcastically asks if she's ever considered trying out for the ballet.

Y/N catches Levi reorganizing the bookshelf for the third time that week and teases him about what a "fun Saturday night" he's having. Levi says at least his idea of fun doesn't involve belting out 90s pop songs drunkenly at 2am like SOME people…

Levi "subtly" fixes his hair for the fifth time before Y/N arrives and denies doing any such thing when she points it out.

When Y/N stretches and a sliver of her midriff shows, Levi tries and fails to keep his eyes forward, earning a smirk from Y/N.

Y/N finds Levi's search history full of questions like "What does it mean when you can't stop thinking about someone?" and "How to get a girl to notice you."

After Y/N falls asleep on his shoulder during movie night, Levi stays frozen in place long after the movie ends just to keep her there.

Levi "coincidentally" shows up at the cafe where Y/N is studying and claims he had no idea she'd be there.

Y/N jokingly asks Levi to help her move some furniture. He shows up in a full suit and tie wanting to make a good impression.

When Y/N has a girls' night out, Levi not-so-casually asks what she's wearing and who all is going.

Levi visibly tenses when Y/N laughs at another guy's joke, crossing his arms and sulking.

When Y/N gets scared during a horror movie, Levi immediately wraps a protective arm around her without thinking.

Y/N teases Levi for meticulously sorting his book collection by color, author, and genre. Levi retorts that at least he has a system unlike SOME people's messy shelves.

When Y/N comes home with a new haircut, Levi awkwardly compliments it, saying it's "suitable" and "appropriate for your face shape".

Levi not-so-accidentally schedules cleaning sessions whenever he knows Y/N will be exercising in tight leggings and a tank top.

Y/N notices Levi fidgeting to fix his already perfectly straight cravat before their weekly tea time together.

After Y/N beats Levi in training, he spends the rest of the day obviously sulking though he denies doing so.

Levi reorganizes the kitchen cabinets to "maximize efficiency" but really it's just an excuse to be around Y/N more.

When another soldier gets too friendly with Y/N, Levi suddenly needs to discuss urgent "military tactics" with her.

Y/N laughs at Levi's claim that he's ordering a new cleaning supply for "sanitary reasons" when it's the exact brand she mentioned liking recently.

Levi stumbles over his words trying to casually return a handkerchief to Y/N he noticed fell from her pocket earlier.

When Y/N comes back from expeditions outside the walls, Levi does a full inspection of her gear asking about every tiny scratch and scuff.