#this is what I've gotten out of it so far

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Christmas Special

Christmas festivities featuring your local kidnappers Yandere! Soldier and Yandere! Sugar Daddy.

Yandere! Soldier who spends all Christmas morning at mass. And when he comes home, snow thick on his uniform, he smells like incense.

"Come see. I've brought you something."

There's a bottle of strong vodka and a frosted fruitcake waiting for you on the counter. You watch him unwrap the cake, your mind wandering to your family, to Christmas mornings when you were still an angsty teen. Did they think you were dead by now? Were they still looking for you?

He cuts a thick slice and holds it to your lips. It's sweet and dense and leaves your mouth sticky.

Yandere! Soldier who tilts your chin towards him and casually runs his thumb across your bottom lip to catch any stray crumbs.

"Let's drink, yeah?"

The vodka is icy cold and bitter. But the taste makes you think of friends and university and late nights when you were too tipsy to stand but oh so warm inside. You throw back more shots than normal, trying to chase the memories.

It's only when he gently pulls the bottle away that you realise you're far past tipsy. You're straight hammered.

You stumble when you stand and he's quick to catch you, one strong arm around your waist.

"You've got no head for drink, моя любовь."

"What does that mean?"

"It means it's time for bed."

You swat at him, irritated. "No. The Russian you used. What does it mean?"

He gently steers you toward the bedroom. "It means my love."

You twist around to face him. "Do you really love me?"

He raises a brow. "Alcohol loosens your tongue, doesn't it?"

He's quiet for a moment, studying you. The flush of your cheeks, the curve of your neck... You're everything he's ever wanted.

"Yes. I really love you. Я клянусь, что да."

I swear I do.

You stand on your toes and kiss him. Cradle his face in your palms and feel the heat of him bleed into you. You're so awfully cold, so awfully lonely. You'll regret it in the morning, but for now you press into him and chase the taste of vodka on his lips.

He pulls away and presses sweet, ticklish kisses against your inner wrist. He can feel your pulse racing.

"я полагаю, это мой рождественский подарок."

I suppose this is my Christmas present.

He grabs your thighs and picks you up. You wrap your arms around his neck, terrified of falling. Your breath ghosts across his neck and your nails dig stinging crescents into his muscles.

He doesn't say it out loud, but it's the best gift he's ever gotten.

Yandere! Sugar Daddy has a tree stacked high with gifts. On Christmas morning, he wakes you up with a kiss and a mug of your favourite hot chocolate, complete with whipped cream and cinnamon sticks.

At first, you assume most of the boxes are just for decoration. There's over a dozen boxes waiting for you - they can't all be gifts, right?

But you should know him better by now. You unwrap present after present, gasping at each one.

A set of custom perfumes from a high fashion brand. Ten different pieces of Tiffany jewellery. A genuine fur coat. Your first pair of Louboutin heels.

Keys to a new car.

You sit in the middle of a treasure trove, struggling to wrap your head around it. He rests his chin on your shoulder and pushes his glasses up his nose.

"Do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes, it's incredible." You turn to face him. "But babe, this must have cost a fortune. I can't accept all of this."

He tilts his head. "Of course you can. I got it all for you."

You're about to argue when he cuts you off. "You said you got me something too?"

You nod and hand him two packages. Your dollar store wrapping paper is glaring cheap next to his.

He unwraps his gifts slowly. The first one is a journal you picked up in a thrift store, weeks before your argument left you trapped with him. Back when you still had your freedom.

You got your artist friend to emboss his name in gold leaf on the front cover. He flips it open to the first page.

To my tech genius boyfriend. This is what we normies call paper. You use it to record all the times your girlfriend is just absolutely incredible, got it? -y/n

He smirks and rubs the page between his fingers.

"I've only heard distant legends of this 'paper'... How fascinating."

You groan. "It seemed funny at the time okay?"

His next gift is a pottery vase, with elegant fluted handles. It's a deep cream with flecks of reddish iron bleeding through. He stares at it, his expression blank.

Your heart drops.

The truth is, you spent months looking for that specific vase. And when you finally found someone willing to sell, the price they named made your jaw drop. You haggled like hell for it. Practically begged the seller on your hands and knees to let you pay it off over a few months. Until this morning, it was a gift you were proud to give him.

But his gifts to you took all morning to unwrap, while all you can offer is a shitty notebook and some amateur pottery. You hate not being able to return his generosity in equal measure. You hate feeling like you're always giving him the short end of the stick. Even now, when you have every reason to hate him, it hurts that you can't spoil him like he does you.

He finally looks up at you, dazed. "This is an original Murazaki. How did you know I wanted one?"

"You mentioned it a few months ago. When we were having dinner together in my apartment."

He puts the vase down carefully.

"You remembered?"

It's your turn to be confused. "Of course? You were really upset about it. You said he was your favourite artist but that you could never find any of his stuff for sale."

He stares at you like he's trying to pick you apart. You look down, embarrassed.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't get you more gifts. I feel like an ass. Like the world's worst girl-"

He grabs you before you can finish and pulls you flush against him. He buries his face in your hair. He takes a deep breath, like he needs to control himself.

"You remembered."

He kisses your temple and then presses his forehead against yours. His voice is low and loving and just a little shaky.

"Oh y/n, you're the best gift I could ask for."

Bonus: a yandere who only has one thing on his Christmas wishlist - you.

You wake up under his Christmas tree, cold and confused and still groggy from the sleeping pills he slipped you.

Your hands are tied behind your back and there's a cherry red gag in your mouth. You squirm, trying to pull your hands free. The floor is icy against your naked skin. Wait, naked?

You look down, horror clawing it's slow way up your throat. Most of your clothes are gone. And you're almost completely wrapped in ribbon.

Your thighs are held together with an excruciatingly tight bow. Two green rosettes are pinned to the lace of your bra. You can't see it, but there's a cute red bow stuck on your head too.

The door opens and you hear heavy footsteps on the basement stairs. You squirm, increasingly desperate to get loose.

"Wouldcha look at that? Santa brought me exactly what I asked for."

Your kidnapper squats down next to you, his eyes roaming your body. Taking in all the curves and dips. Mapping it out like it's his to explore. He reaches out and tugs at the ribbon tied around your throat.

"My girl all wrapped up under the Christmas tree."

He grabs your chin and tilts your face up towards his. His eyes are dark - the pupils blown out wide with lust, with hunger.

"Merry Christmas baby. I promise it'll be one you never forget.

[nagis-wife]

𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇: Nagi Seishiro, Eita Otoya, Rin Itoshi 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 3k 𝒞𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈: Accidental confessions - I love you. 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: fem!reader, fluff, comedy, pet names used, could be a little angsty at times but nothing over the top but figured I should mention it.

--- Authors note: I may have gotten carried away with these. But I hope you enjoy them nonetheless. It was not proof read either so if there's any mistakes apologies ♡

Eita Otoya ✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ Eita nearly always wore his headphones to drown out the city sounds that never seemed to stop. He was sure he would have hearing loss by his 30’s if he kept listening to it as loud as he did. But it was the only thing that would drown out the beeping cars and someone yelling at someone for bumping into them. Eita loved his music more than anything yet somehow almost every single song he would play somehow reminded him of you. He wanted to rip his hair out, he wondered if you ever got so fucking tired from running around his head. Eita was sure, you did this purely to torture him.

“Eita.. Hey look at me yeah?” You spoke, voice sounding like an angel. Loud in his ears as if the people in the movie you guys were watching were just speaking in whispers. Eyes setting on your face, seeing your kind ones looking back at him with such a gentle gaze. He's never felt this way before. Sure he's been around a few times but nothing has compared to the butterflies twirling around in his gut begging for him to say how he truly felt. 

Things were casual, having met in a music store and going out on a couple ‘dates’. Eita saw them as dates, never knowing if you did. The two of you never discussed what either of you wanted. Eita didn't even know how you felt about him, let alone if you were even interested in him, more than just being friends anyways. Yet here he was, his hands clammy, feeling a lump in his throat and he felt faint. Eita tried to tell himself he was just being dramatic. That the worst you can say is no.

Eitas hands reached out to yours as he looked down at you as he blinked “Yeah? Sorry. What were you saying?” He said, as if he wasn't fully distracted by his own thoughts as they were seemingly in overdrive. As if his heart wasn't currently pounding in his ears, nearly drowning out you entirely. “I asked if you were okay, you don't seem well.. Do you wanna take a raincheck and come back tomorrow? I promi-” You were cut off by Eita sighing, not that he was irritated, he was, but with himself. “No.. no that's not it. I swear. I do have something I need to tell you though” He trailed off as he took a deep breath. “I have feelings for you. I could go as far as saying that my feelings are so strong one could possibly call it love. I've never felt this way about anyone before, and I'm not sure what to do about that.” 

You let out a laugh, Eitas veins running cold, not that it lasted long as he felt your hands wrapping around his waist, nuzzling your face against his chest. “Silly boy, ya know for someone who was a playboy, youre really bad at reading women” You teased as even you felt warm, weeks of courting Eita turned into this? One would say you were the winner here. 

Relief floods his pretty green eyes as he chuckles a bit, wrapping his hands around your waist resting his face in the crook of your neck. He felt so light, as if a ton of bricks was lifted from his shoulders. He closed his eyes for a moment enjoying the warmth that radiates from your body. “I think I should be the one saying that, my love. You have no idea how much you lift me just by being next to me, my beautiful muse” Rubbing his back as you sighed gently, 

“Yeah I can tell.. You flirt much less now with others, only with me huh playboy?” You joked as you pulled from him just enough to see his face as he stood straight up again with a knowing smile “Yeah yeah thats because of you idiot” Rolling your eyes you reach up to press a kiss against his cheek. “Whatever you say ya simp.” You joked as you grabbed Eitas hand watching from his apartment window the city below you, the snowflakes falling steadily. Eita grumbled something as he moved to sit behind you wrapping his arms around your midsection and resting his chin on your head. “That was rude” 

“Yeah yeah, you'll be okay playboy” You teased as he groaned. A laugh leaving your lips, yeah you two will be perfectly fine. 

✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧✩ ♬ ₊.🎧⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Nagi Seishiro  ‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

Nagi didn't think he needed anyone, and how wrong he couldve been. After befriending not only Reo but you.. Nagi soon came to realize that maybe everything isn't a hassle. Maybe.. Just maybe.. He actually enjoyed having you around. It wasn't often that he would pause his game just to respond to your text, hang out with Reo more often than normal, or even leave his apartment willingly just to see you. Nagi didn't understand his own feelings with this, looking up stupid articles about his feelings to try to understand them. One word kept showing up, “love.” Nagi was confused by this development. Did he actually love you? It wasn't the same rapid beating in his chest when he was hanging out with Reo, not that his heart skipped a beat when he was with Reo. That has to be it - right?

He wasn't sure how it happened or why his chest had felt so funny when you were around. Maybe it was the humidity in the air, yeah it was just the heat. Rather the heat that would raise on his cheeks when you so much as looked in his direction with a soft gaze, or even said his hair was cute and complimented him well. How his grey toned eyes fit his features so nicely. Nagi didn't know what to do with himself when these things happened, his face would get just hot, his stomach would do so many flips he felt sick. Nagi couldn't even handle your gaze, how would he be able to even hold your hand, to press his lips against yours. They looked so inviting, so soft. He would stay up thinking about you, how you would taste.. Shaking the thoughts as he tossed and turned. 

“Seishiro!? Earth to Seishirooo!” You waved your hand in front of his face as you sat across from him as he blinked a few times at you, his cheeks heating with a soft hue. Clearing his throat as he looked back down at his phone. His reaction made you stifle a laugh before leaning back in his bed, your back against the wall “Hmm something on your mind?” You questioned as your gaze drifted to your own phone as you scrolled through your feeds. Yeah, you. “Hell no. I was.. was distracted by uh.. something going on in my game. Don't worry about it. It's gone now anyways.” He lied through his teeth as you raised a brow and tilt your head to the side, almost as if you were calling his bluff. “Mm, right. So what was I talking about then?” Nagi couldn't recall a single thing you had said, too distracted by your lips and how the sun beams that seeped through his curtains hit the gloss that was on your lips. “Uhm.. uh..” He looked at everything but you as he tried to come up with something. 

An amused grin curled at the corner of your lips, leaning on your elbows. “I was talking about Reo and how he looked really hot, all dressed up y'know.” You too, lied through your teeth but that was not the point right now. Nagi felt an unfamiliar sensation flooding his veins as he clicked his tongue against his teeth before tossing his phone aside, a pout on his lips. He turned to you as he huffed. Jealousy and insecurities flooding his body. “I'm just teasing Seishiro I cou-” He cuts you off as he looks at you with eyes filled with determination which shut you up quickly as he opens his mouth several times before shutting it again. 

With his feelings being higher than he ever thought they could be he blurts out words you half expected to never fall from his lips “I love you okay!? I don't want to hear about Reo or h-how hot you think he is, or how strong he looks. I-I know I wouldn't match up to him. I've been alone most of my life. I don't know what these feelings are. I just know that.. I can't match up to him for you. I'm not Reo.” 

Looking at him with a shocked expression as a soft sigh left your lips reaching across the table grabbing his hands into your own. “That is the insecurities talking, Sei..” You moved closer to him as a hand rested against the top of his head, nails grazing against his scalp, earning a soft groan from his throat as he leaned into your touch.

You sighed softly as you felt the anxiety radiating from his body. “Sei. Do you really think that if I actually wanted Reo that I would be here with you all the time? That I would wait for you to come online just to be able to play games with you? Seishiro.. The feelings I have for you would outweigh anyone like Reo. No amount of money would change how I feel about you. I talk to the stars about you, whispering to the wind hoping you would hear how much I love you. Not even the Gods could keep me away from you Seishiro. I'm sorry if talking about Reo that way made you upset.” 

Nagis eyes searched for yours, as if he was looking for something in them. However he's only met with a soft gaze that was filled with nothing but adoration. He moves to sit up as he nearly tackles you back against the mattress, his arms wrapping around you rightly his head finding its place in your chest. A laugh pulled from your throat as he nuzzled against you. 

“You mean it?” He murmured, his voice muffled. 

“Yeah, I mean it, Seishiro.” You spoke as you reached to card your fingers through his hair as he gave your frame a squeeze falling in love with the way you felt in his arms. Yeah, maybe not being alone is nice.

Rin Itoshi ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ

Meeting Rin was purely an accident and neither of you remember how it happened. Well Rin did, he fully remembers the moment you walked into his life standing by his side even when he was the lowest he had ever been. Rin did not however remember when he fell for you. Maybe it was when he first saw you, maybe it was after. Maybe it was when you first breathed his name rather than calling him Itoshi. That didn't matter to him anymore. All he knew is what he wanted to protect you no matter the cost or consequence of his action. He would move mountains if you asked him too. 

Rin has always kept to himself, he found it hard venturing out, let alone understanding how he felt about you. Let alone he found it hard to even think with how he was that you would ever feel the same about him. Did you too feel the same as he did? Rin knew he was good at one thing, and still had his own self doubts. 

Now the two of you were on the train home, having gone to see a new horror movie Rin had convinced you to go see. You had been scared out of your mind the whole time while Rin didn't seem to even move a muscle while watching it. However the movie still ended up being really good. Rin had invited you over to his place for some dinner, and you weren't going to say no to his cooking. He somehow was amazing in the kitchen. Not that you knew how, but you weren't going to complain at all. 

The setting sun casted beautiful hues of pinks and purples in the sky. Stopping as you pulled out your phone, Rin had stopped looking back at you as you snapped the photo. Friends dont look at friends that way. However the thought passes as quickly as it comes into your head. 

“Rin wait, stay just like that, look up towards the sky.” You told him as he sighed but still entertained your request. Humming as you tisked before walking over to him grabbing his cheeks as you adjusted his head. His cheeks felt cold under your touch. “There just like that dont move pretty RinRin” You teased as you took a few steps back again taking a few snaps as you smiled at your phone. 

“Sometimes you should listen to me Rin” You mused as you showed him the photo, it did look great as he playfully rolled his eyes “Sure, I'd rather not do that. A bit too.. Lukewarm for me doll” 

A gasp passed your lips as your jaw slacked at his harmless insult. He most definitely did not see you as lukewarm. “Ouch I'm wounded, might need some homemade cookies and ice cream to fill the wounds you've caused me” You said dramatically as you gripped his jacket falling to your knees, giggling the whole way down. Rin couldn't help but to look at you with a raised brow and an amused expression. A chuckle being forced from his chest as he grabbed your hand pulling you back to your feet. 

“That was the most dramatic thing you've done, however if you want cookies you're gonna make them yourself or at least help me.” He spoke, a smile, albeit small, still on his lips. “Rin.. the last time you let me in the kitchen I almost burnt down your apartment and I also ruined the baking sheet. That's not a good idea.” 

Rin remembered this happening, the screaming of his name, and panic in your voice. Trying to waft out the smoke all while to get the smoke detector to stop beeping, crying out how the fire department was going to show up if he did help. All the while he was doubled over holding his stomach as belting laughs rippled from his throat. Rin was not helpful at all. It was one of his favorite memories the two of you shared. 

“Yeah I'd prefer if you didn't do that again. I'll take care of it” he spoke with a monotone voice as he grimaced.

Finally making it back to his apartment, with you not in the kitchen while he made dinner, choosing to just pull out the store bought cookies hoping it would be enough to appease you. Idle conversation filled the air as the two of you ate. However, getting a notification on your phone stating there had been an accident with the trains and you were now going to be stuck or get a taxi in hopes that it wouldnt take hours to get you home due to the amount of added traffic due to the trains being down. 

“You could always just stay over. I think you still have some clothes here, if not you can just wear mine.” Rin stated as if it was the only option. Not that he was wrong, however it did sound better than dealing with the hellish drive home. 

“Fine but you better keep your boyish hands to yourself” You teased as you skipped to his bedroom and flicked on the light. Humming as you changed into lounge wear, it was much more comfortable than what you had on before. 

Peering out from the door once you were in your Pj’s “Come on, I'm ready for bed. It's a damn good thing I have clothes over here from the last time I stayed over. I'd hate to be in your stinky clothes” You teased. Rin has never smelled bad. In fact you bought the cologne he had worn and even when he got low he would buy the exact same one again. You did say it was our favorite afterall. 

Rin let out a groan as he stood up and walked over to you, and entered the room. Following you into the bed, watching you wiggle around to find a comfortable spot as his hands came to his hips with raised brows, shaking his head with a chuckle. “You're somethin’ else I swear.” Rin walked into the closet to change in there as he stopped out. Seeing your chest steadily rising and falling. His gaze lingering for a moment. Taking out his phone as he took a few photos, to tease you with later. 

Finally climbing into the bed, he was sure you were in a deep sleep as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against him. Selfishly he knew his feelings. Rin pressed a kiss against your forehead as he sighed. “I love you so much. You have no idea what you do to me, you little minx.” Although Rin couldn't have been more wrong as he blinked a few times as he felt you shift under his weight, peering up at him with wide eyes. “Ya know, confessions are best given when someone is awake RinRin.” You teased, as he avoided your gaze only for you to bring it back to you as your hand was pressed against his cheek. 

“And you're awake, so it makes it easier for me too.” You murmured as you leaned forward, lips locking together as if it was the most perfect puzzle pieces locking together. “I love you too. We will talk more about this in the morning and what that means for us, however, for now. Protect me from the monsters under your bed, yeah?” Rin only nodded, his cheeks tinted pink as his heart raced in his chest. Feeling you adjust yourself in his arms, your face in the crook of his neck. 

This was perfect. You were perfect.

♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ♡･ﾟ:｡.:･ﾟ

Likes and reblogs are appreciated! My requests are open as well!.

tags: @pixelcafe-network @hayatoseyepatch @hayatoseyepatch @sugurouge

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[your-hockey-mom]

Christmas with Quinny?

"Hey! No peeking!"

"I...wasn't!" Quinn smirked, putting his hands behind his back after getting caught looking into the gift bags sitting on the coffee table. He had been getting antsy about opening gifts with you since he had gotten up. Sometimes he could be a big kid and during the holidays it was so much worse. Good thing he was cute, you always teased.

"You were, too!" You laughed, approaching him, two mugs of steaming hot chocolate in your hands. "Go ahead and open it, if you want! I'm ready."

Quinn would let you take a seat beside him before handing you a small box he had hidden beneath a blanket next to him. As soon as you saw the colour of the box you knew where it had come from. That trademark blue could only mean one thing: Tiffany's!

"Quinn, you didn't!" You didn't know what else to say!

"I may have. I hope it's okay."

Taking the box, you give Quinn a kiss as thanks before seeing just what was inside. "I'm sure you really outdid yourself! I didn't need anything like this!"

"Sure you did," he replied, taking a careful sip of the hot chocolate.

Inside, was a gold ring in a cursive script that read "love". It was dainty, classic, and so very touching. When had he had the time to get you such a gift, you had no idea but words could not express how much it meant to you.

"I love this so much!" You choked out, putting it on your middle finger. "Quinny, thank you so much!"

"You're welcome. I just wanted to get you something you could enjoy everyday." He was smiling like a kid whose mother had put his best artwork on the fridge. Things like jewelry wasn't his forte in buying, and he couldn't lie: he had help from the girls at Tiffany's in picking it out. His mom had actually suggested the famous jeweler when Quinn had confessed he didn't know what to get you. He had picked out some little things like a book or two, but in terms of the big, memorable, post-on-Instagram sort of gift, that's where he had struggled.

"Oh, I'll absolutely wear this everyday! I've never gotten anything from Tiffany's before!"

"Well, I'm glad I was able to get you something new." Quinn scooted closer, pulling your face to his. "Maybe I'll make a tradition of it?"

The kiss was long and passionate. Such a romantic Quinn had turned out to be and you loved being the center of his ever affection. His hands held you tightly, not letting you leave his side until he was for certain that he had expressed just how much he loved you. The ring truly had meaning.

"I have something for you, but not as nice as this, lemme go get it!"

Quinn slowly withdrew his hands, his fingertips trailing against your body as you got up. "If you have you."

"There's no need to pout! I'll be right back!" You headed to the hall closet where way in the back were two wrapped hockey sticks hidden as far back as you could get them. The had been a custom order to the specs of his on-ice sticks, but these had the Canucks colorway elements and a little message engraved where normally his name would go. You didn't care if he used them even once, but what hockey player couldn't use more sticks?

"How did you wrap those?" Quinn asked, arms outstretched to take them from you. "That's impressive!"

"Well, I think I used a whole roll of paper because it was not going well!"

Carefully, Quinn unwrapped the dual-packaged gift and smiled. It was like he had ordered them himself. Now, you had had some help; making a couple phone calls to teammates to snap a picture of his stick specs so you could get them just right. They had to be perfect!

"'Nobody puts my baby in the box!' You're too cute! Thanks, sweetheart." You had thought a long time about what you wanted to have put on the stick shaft. What better than what you always yelled when Quinn was sent to the "pretty boy box" as you affectionately called the penalty box.

"I thought it was pretty fitting," you giggled, excited that he hadn't found the message too cringe.

"They're perfect! Thanks, babe." His smile was so sweet, and his eyes sparkled within the twinkling of the Christmas tree. "I love you."

"I love you, too!" You pulled yourself into his lap. "Should we open the other stuff?"

"Later, right now I just want to enjoy you." Quinn buried his face in your neck as you laughed against the feeling of his facial hair against your skin. An hour would pass before you left the sofa, or maybe it was two... 

[ikuzeminna]

First Update!

Thank you to everyone who has participated in this experiment so far. Here's a first look for at the results I have been able to gather at this point in time.

Since I don't have enough data from non-Latin alphabet users yet, the following shows the distribution of only the Latin alphabet users.

The side of the bar represents how many people of a group opted for the handle on the left or right side.

We can see that the overwhelming majority of right-handed people choose to draw the handle on the right side. With left-handed and ambidextrous people the distribution is more even, though the low number of them compared to the right-handed group is too small yet to draw any real conclusions.

The exact numbers are:

Meaning:

20 out of 126 right-handed people (15.9%) drew the handle on the left side

106 out of 126 right-handed people (84.1%) drew the handle on the right side

14 out of 23 left-handed people (60.9%) drew the handle on the left side

9 out of 23 left-handed people (39.1%) drew the handle on the right side

I have seen some people in the comments and reblogs kindly voice concern over Tumblr not being ideal for reaching non-English speaking and therefore non-Latin alphabet using people, but that's absolutely fine! Because Latin alphabet or not, left-handed people are very valuable to both hypotheses in relation to their right-handed counterparts.

If my professor is right, then left-handed people should be much more likely to draw the handle on the left. So far, we're only at slightly more likely (61% isn't that much).

As far as my own hypothesis goes, many people have pointed this out already, and I, too, have discarded the notion that the presence of single letters within an alphabet is the reason for the handle choice and am instead now focusing on how the letters/characters are written. Latin letters are strictly left to right, Japanese, for example, also has a predominantly left to right stroke order (with exceptions, of course). Since most people draw the cup first and then add the handle, it could feel more natural for them to "continue" on the right, as that is what we usually do when writing.

(When our professor did the experiment with us, the person next to me drew the handle first, then the cup, and so ended up with the handle facing left.)

I have taken to various Discord servers to hopefully get some data from Arabic users, as I was told they favor the left side regardless of their dominant hand, as well as other groups, but so far all I've gotten are threats by mods to not self-promote when I asked them for permission to ask people to participate. lol

I'm allowed to throw money in return for promo at one though, so let's see how that works out.

Oh, and as a last note. I'm very sorry about the cup = no handle confusion because of paper cups. A "cup" in both my native tongues always has a handle because it's specifically the one made out of porcelain.

I had hoped having to specify "paper cup" would have prevented the confusion, alas. Sorry again.

I need your help with a hypothesis!

For context: My linguistics professor and I got into a discussion after a test she did with us, and I was of the opinion that the reason for the results was different from the one she offered, so she encouraged me to test my theory.

What I need

All you need to do is draw a coffee cup (with a handle, not the disposable stuff) and then answer three questions.

I don't need to see the coffee cup. You can draw it wherever you like; on a piece of paper, digitally, in the sand, on a foggy window. Anything works. It does not have to be good. A doodle is fine.

You have to draw the coffee cup before you see the questions. This is very important. If you decide to help me with this, please doodle the coffee cup before you keep reading.

Assuming you have drawn the coffee cup, I now need you to answer these three questions:

On which side did you draw the handle?

Are you right-handed or left-handed?

Do you primarily write using the Latin alphabet or a different one? (please specify which)

More context

Most people will draw the handle on the right side. My professor says it's because most people are right-handed, so they draw the handle in the direction that would be comfortable for them to pick up.

I said drawing it on the right side just felt more comfortable to my hand and argued it's probably because we write a bunch of letters like that. B, b, D, P, p, R all look like a tiny "handle on the right side" and are all a straight line followed by a round one (so "cup first, handle second," like most people draw cups). The Latin alphabet doesn't have letters like that that face the other way, except maybe d, depending on how you write it, so it makes sense to me that people writing mostly Latin letters would go with the handle on the right side.

Which means that I need to know what Asians, Arabs and Greeks do and if the distribution of left and right sides of handles differs from the Latin alphabet group. Cyrillic seems to favor right, too, though it'd be interesting to see if there are differences.

If there are, my theory is right. Doubly so if there is a sizeable increase in a group whose alphabet has letters that benefit the left side choice.

So feel free to spread this to as many people as you like and put the answers in the comments or the tags of a reblog. The more answers I get, the better I can assess whose theory is better.

Thank you for your help!

[markleessodalite]

Can you do Dreamies as boys dad please?

i've gotten multiple requests for this one after posting 7Dream as girl dads lol so here it is!!

Headcanon: NCT Dream as Boy Dads

content: just how i think 7dream would be as boy dads :) no warnings i can think of!

Mark:

Mark is his son's best friend. He loves the idea of being able to just hang out with his son, whether it be playing basketball together, playing pretend pirates (Mark has a stash of eye-patches just for this), or trying out a new video game the day it comes out. Mark will often take his son for secret trips to his favorite burger place after school, even though he knows it ruins his appetite for dinner. Mark just loves being able to spend time with a mini-Mark!

Renjun:

Renjun is hard on his son, but it comes from a place of love. Renjun thinks all his kids should have a thick skin, but especially his son. His deepest desire is to protect his kids as long as possible, but of course that can't last forever. Kids grow up, and will one day have to protect themselves. So, Renjun thinks its best to teach his son how to do that now, when he's young. You've told Renjun that this worries you, but he reassures you that he knows how far is too far-- the last thing he would want is for his own son to feel like he can't go to his father when he feels weak.

Jeno:

Jeno wants to raise a manly man! He would expect his son to be masculine, and physically and mentally strong, just like his dad. He wants him to be in tip-top shape, perfect health, always on the ball. Sometimes Jeno can be a bit overbearing with it, especially as his son gets older; sometimes teenagers just want a day to sit at home and decompress, which Jeno seems to forget... until you so kindly remind him of his own teen years. Ultimately, Jeno will be understanding when his son wants a break-- he just wants to teach his son self-discipline, so he can be a strong man like his father.

Haechan:

Haechan wants his son to follow in his footsteps. He loves the idea of his son wanting to be a musician just like his dad! And of course, knowing all the ins and outs of how to get there, Haechan will be his son's number one supporter and guide. He'll help him practice his vocal skills, he'll teach him about being fit and stylish, he'll write songs with his son, and probably learn some instruments with him just so he can be as well-rounded as possible. If his son were to reject his father's dream, however, Haechan would certainly be dissapointed-- but, he wouldn't hold it against his kid. Haechan firmly believes his primary job as a dad is to support his kids no matter what they decide to do with their lives.

Jaemin:

Jaemin teaches his son how to be a gentleman. He's most concerned with teaching him to be polite, caring, well-mannered, and even-tempered. Jaemin has always been the quintessentially perfect boyfriend and husband, but you noticed he upped the ante even more after the birth of your son. He cooks more often, he does more of your chores for you before you can even ask, he takes you out on more dates, and he's sweeter with you in front of the kids. Once your son is old enough, Jaemin is showing him how to help out his elders and have proper manners with everyone he meets. If the daughter of Na Jaemin is considered a princess, then of course the son of Na Jaemin is a prince, and should behave as such.

Chenle:

Chenle encourages his son to be involved in as many things as possible, just as he would with his daughter. Chenle wants all of his kids to be well-rounded so that they're not lost for opportunities when they're adults. Just like his sister, Chenle's son will be in an array of activities and clubs; Chenle wants him on student council, the basketball team, the marching band, and outside of school he's doing volunteer work. Of course, you sometimes have to reel Chenle in when he expects too much, but he knows his kids are going to be stellar in whatever they do.

Jisung:

Jisung wants his son to be intelligent and refined. Similar to Jaemin, Jisung thinks a man should be a gentleman. Just like his father, Jisung's son is a person of few words, but Jisung wants to be sure that those few words are always kind and true. Studying is the number one priority in the Park household, and only the highest of grades are acceptable. Although, just like with his daughter, you'll end up being the disciplinarian most of the time-- when it comes to his kids, Jisung just can't seem to find a stern bone in his body. At least not when his son is so little and cute!

[bonefall]

Any thoughts about how you're gonna approach moons sis def being a fading kit? How would this work in your world?

I've gotten this question a few times and it's honestly really simple; she can be a Fading Kit who refused to fade.

Fading Kits are extremely common to the point of not being a thing that is mourned. Clan Cats believe that they're StarClan spirits who come down to deliver the souls of the rest of the litter, and sometimes "fall in" either by accident or to briefly visit.

So, Moon's parents would believe she was just a normal occurance, until they were wracking their brains trying to figure out what's happening and realize the description fits what should have just been a StarClan visitor.

But that's as far as I'm going with it for now. I need to see where this arc goes, because I might end up deciding that it would fit the story better to do something different entirely. You know how the writing team is about having 6th books that are massively disconnected from the tone and themes of the 1st one.

It's just too early to be making plans-- but the idea that Moonpaw's sister would be a Fading Kit in BB's cultural overhauls isn't even slightly hard to work with.

[measuredingold]

i’d walk through hell for you

authors note: saw that best friend!noah is all the talk right now and decided to finally free this from the drafts. inspired by a walk through hell by say anything :) there will be a second part that’s already finished and will be posted next week ! i’m not sure about a third lol as always, i hope you enjoy and feedback is appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

word count: 3.1k

cross posted on ao3

cw/tw: angst, hurt/comfort, heavy anxiety, best friend!noah, Noah Is A Nightmare But He Can’t Help It, reader is a sweetie and loves their friend and wants to make it better, oh eventual friends to lovers btw, 18+ minors do not interact

You haven't seen him like this in a long time. You can't even remember the last time he allowed you to see him like this, on edge, snippy with fucking everyone, and down right a fucking nightmare. You thought he had gotten that under control, at least from what he’s told you, but the scene before you lets you know that may not be the case.

For the most part. He could be worse, you think.

You've seen him far worse than this plenty of times, yet it still makes your stomach turn in an unpleasant way, and there's a foul taste settling in the back of your throat as you step into his room.

“Hey.” You say quietly, making your presence known.

“Hi.” He doesn’t even bother looking up at you. Your chest tightens.

“Jolly says you’re being a nightmare,” Noah snorts at your words, but you know he doesn’t find it that amusing. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”

Your heart breaks as your best friend finally looks up at you, the bags under his eyes and the permanent frown on his lips feeling like a literal stab to the gut. You drop your bag by the door and slowly make your way towards him.

"I can't fucking..." He sucks in a deep breath as he throws his arms towards his computer setup in the corner in his room, eyes narrowing. "This one part in the song I showed you last week. It doesn't sound right. I've messed with it for days, even sent it off to Jolly and even he can't fucking get it to sound good and, " He rubs a hand down his face, "I have to send it by tomorrow night with like four other songs. The others are fine but this fucking one..."

"Sebbe. Breathe."

He does, one long shaky breath, and you're finally looking closely enough to realize his entire body is shaking. Your anxiety kicks in then, alarms sounding off in your head because you know where this can lead. You've seen it before. Your legs take you over to his bed that he's sitting on, joining him. You make sure to keep some space between the two of you, not wanting to overwhelm him more than needed.

"I just don't know what's fucking wrong with me. Like, why can't I figure this out? I did the thing, I took the break. Came back with a clear head or whatever but all I did was fuck up the song even more to where Jolly can't even fix it and-"

"Noah."

He stills at your voice, lazily dragging his eyes towards you. He looks so tired. You know him well enough to know the break was a good fifteen minutes before he sat his ass back in that chair and clearly worked himself to the ground. You know that he's probably only slept a handful of hours in the last few days, and you fucking hate that. He struggles with sleep as is, so you know the stress of this deadline isn't good for him at all.

"Listen to me, okay?" You say slowly. Noah just blinks at you. "Send it off the way it is. You've done your best, but if you keep messing around with it with this nasty attitude, it's not going to get any better. Make sure to make a note on why the song might sound unfinished, mention that you've been struggling."

"But-"

"I'm not finished." His mouth snaps shut. "Tell Jolly you sent it off and that you guys will work on it later. These are just supposed to be demos, right?" It takes a second but Noah eventually nods, somehow looking even more tired than he did seconds ago. "Then there’s no reason for it to be perfect, anyways. Just go on to something else and then go back to it when you don't feel so... negative."

The silence after your words makes your stomach turn, Noah slowly blinking at you. You know your words are registering in his mind, but they’re melting away. He's going to only hear one part of your speech, and it's the part about sending an unfinished song to his label. The unfinished and not perfect song which is unacceptable in Noah standards, and you can already make out the frown that's beginning to form on his lips.

"I have to finish it."

"No, you actually don't."

"Yes, I actually fucking do." He bites out.

You know he doesn't mean it, to be snippy with you, but that's what happens when he's like this. Irrational, says things before thinking about them. You can't stop the way you flinch, though, grimacing at the way it hurts when he throws his anger at you. His frown only deepens, sadness etching itself over his face.

"Sorry." He mumbles, head tilting down. "I just... I need to finish it. I can't just send it off the way that it is. That's not good enough."

"Demos aren't supposed to be good. That's why they're called demos. It’s the rough draft.”

"You don't get it." He groans out, resting his elbows on his knees and placing his head in his hands. "I just... I can't do that. You know I fucking can't. It's gotta be perfect, because if not-"

"You feel like a failure." You finish his words for him and watch the second his shoulders drop.

He doesn't respond, doesn't even take his hands off his face. Instead he just nods slowly.

"Noah..."

He remains silent next to you but you can hear the way his breathing has picked up, a lot shakier than it had been seconds ago. The hands that were sprawled across his face were shaking again and this time you don't bother keeping your space, scooting closer to him.

You're deliberate with your actions, hand reaching out to slide off the beanie on top of his head. You let it fall, hand now smoothing down some of his hair that was messed up by the hat. You're quiet when your fingers gently card through his hair and you do it a few times before your nails scratch at his scalp, slow and gentle.

It takes a second, a lot longer than you actually expected, but his breathing begins to even out. His hands are still shaky, though, and he still has yet to even pick his head up. You have a feeling of what's running through his mind, and you so desperately want to crawl inside there and throw it out yourself. Fill his head with better thoughts and rid him of the mean ones he's sifting through currently.

Your hand drops from the top of his head, instinctively pushing a fallen strand behind his ear before sliding your hand down to the back of his neck. Your fingers apply a good amount of pressure there, gently rubbing out the tension. You hear him sigh out, the noise muffled by his hand.

“Talk to me. What’s going on up there, bub?”

"This is all I have." He finally says after long minutes of silence, voice sounding strained.

You frown.

He continues, "The band. Music. It's all I have. All I'm good at. I can't... it has to be perfect, you know? If it's not..." He sucks in a shaky breath and your fingers dig back into his neck. "If it's not perfect, I don't know how much longer I'll have this. One fuck up and... and this all can be..."

He doesn't finish his words, but you know what he was going to say.

This all can be taken away from me.

Noah confided that fear to you so many times, but each time you're reminded of it it's like a part of you dies. His fear of losing everything at the snap of a finger is something that haunts him and has stayed with him for as long as you could remember. No matter how hard he tried to run from it, to know that things don't always end and can't be taken from him so easily, it always seemed to come crawling back.

"It's not going to be taken away from you." You say in a small voice, scooting even closer to him. Your legs are pressed together now and you don't stop rubbing at his neck, hoping to relieve some of the stress.

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." Your fingers stop but your hand doesn't move. "Noah, look at me."

A beat passes before he's finally removing his hands from his face, slowly turning his head to stare at you. Somehow the bags under his eyes have darkened in the few minutes you've been in here with him, and it seems like that frown on his lips is permanently sketched there.

"You've gotten this far without it being taken from you." You start slowly, thumb now brushing against the side of his neck. "You're good at what you do. Everyone knows that, and everyone knows that you're not perfect. You don't need to be perfect. We all have bad days. One song that isn't sounding like you wanted isn't going to be the be all end all of your career."

"But what if it is?" He sounds so small, voice shaking with fear of the hypothetical what if and all you want to do in this moment is gather him up in your arms and never fucking let go.

"It isn't." You press. "This has happened before and guess what happened? Nothing. Nothing was taken from you, and life went on as it did."

Noah just blinks at you. You stare back at him, pressing your lips together as you mull over your next words. You're not sure if what you're telling him is getting through that head of his and you're not sure what to do next. You think he needs to take a break, a much longer one, and needs to get out of his room. Probably the house, too. Away from the problem to clear his head.

"Hey," Your thumb keeps brushing against his neck and something warm spreads across your chest when you feel him melt into the touch. "How about you come over? For the day. We go back to mine and just watch some Naruto. I haven't finished it yet."

His blank expression is soon replaced with something similar to pain and his eyes dart from your face to the corner of his room, where his set up remains. You reach up with your other hand without much thought, cupping the side of his face to turn him back towards you.

"Noah."

"I..."

His eyes dart back and forth between your face and his computer, and you can almost physically see the battle happening in his head. The need for perfection. The need for control. His hands start to shake in his lap again and your thumb brushes against the top of his cheek, trying to pull him back to you.

"Just for a few hours. A couple episodes, that's all. Just to get you out of that head of yours, then we can come back here and you can finish up that song."

A compromise, but it's enough to have that pained look on his face to fall for just a moment, body relaxing under your fingertips.

"Okay." Noah breathes out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily. " A few hours."

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, that warmth from minutes ago settling across your chest again.

"Thank you."

He doesn't reply, just blinks at you again and gives you a weak smile, but a smile nonetheless. You're not sure you got through to him, but maybe he was exhausted enough to not care anymore. Whichever one it was you'll take it, as long as it gets him away from that computer and hopefully out of his mind.

He's quiet when gathering his things, lingering by his desk when he saves whatever song it was giving him a hard time before shutting the computer down all together. He doesn't say anything when you leave either, silently following you through the house and to your car. It worries you every time he goes quiet like this, but you know it's the exhaustion from his anxiety finally catching up. And probably the minimal hours of sleep he's gotten in the last few days. Still, you hate it.

The only sign of life from him was when he bopped his head to a random song in a playlist you two created together, adding random things in there from time to time. You can't remember the name, it's one of his songs you think, which is confirmed by him humming quietly in the passenger seat next to you, scrolling through his phone.

Noah still hasn't said a word by the time you reach your apartment, and doesn't bother saying anything when he gets out of your car, shuffling behind you. You try to hide your worry as you unlock your door, chewing on your bottom lip.

"Make yourself at home."

He makes a noise in response, a quiet hum, toeing off his shoes before making a beeline for your couch, sinking immediately into the cushions. You smile at that, watching as he gets comfortable in your space. It wasn't always like this, when the two of you first became friends, but after years of growing closer, your space was almost like his. It was nice to know he trusted you that much.

"Have you eaten?" You call out to him, making your way around your kitchen. He doesn't look up from his phone.

"No."

You glare at him, but he still isn't looking. "Noah."

"Wasn't hungry." He brushes it off before pausing and finally looks up from his phone, exhaustion evident in his features as he stares at you. "I'm kind of hungry now, though."

"Yeah?" That relaxes you a bit. "I got some leftover pizza in the fridge if you want some."

"Sure."

You try to ignore the way he still sounds so... small. Barely there, like he's off in some other world. You busy yourself with fixing a plate for both you and him and make sure to pour him some water in the biggest glass that you own, knowing damn well he hasn't had a sip in hours. You bring the plates in first, setting them on the coffee table in front of your couch before going back to retrieve your drinks. You hand his cup to him, narrowing your gaze.

"Drink."

You don't miss the way he rolls his eyes but takes the glass from you without a fight, taking a slow sip. You feel like you can breathe easier now knowing that he's drunk something, and is going to eat something soon too, and you finally settle onto the couch next to him, pulling your legs up under you.

The two of you sit in silence as you mess around with your remote, trying to figure out which streaming service had Naruto on it. It had been a while since you watched it, and you knew you had to finish it. Noah's been bugging you for months, maybe even years, so now's a good time as any to start it back up.

"I can't believe you still haven't finished." You’re surprised he’s said a full sentence, words muffled around the pizza in his mouth.

"I'm trying." You whine out before taking a bite of your pizza. "There's just so many episodes."

He snorts. "You haven't even gotten to Shippuden yet."

"...You're telling me there's more?"

You look at him, head tilted and eyes wide. Noah takes in your expression and laughs, the real breathy one he does when he thinks something's ridiculous. That warm feeling in your chest returns and suddenly you feel something similar to pride fill you, being the reason behind that laughter. His lips twitch into what you think is supposed to be a smile, shaking his head.

"Dude."

"You didn't tell me there was more!"

"Yes I did! I literally told you that this was part one, and then Shippuden was part two."

"I literally don't remember that at all." You grumble out, rolling your eyes.

"You could've already been on Shippuden if you'd just watch it."

"I forgot, okay?" You cry out, which only makes Noah laugh harder. "Fucking sue me."

"We're finishing this." He says matter of factly, relaxing back against the couch. "The goal is to finish both this and Shippuden by the end of the year." You give him a crazy look, brows furrowing, and he laughs again. "Okay. How about we at least start Shippuden by the end of the year?"

You think about it for a moment before nodding your head, taking another bite of your pizza. "I think I can manage that."

He smiles for real this time, small but it's real, and you smile back.

"Deal."

One episode turns into two, two turns into three, and somehow three turns into you almost finishing the season you'd been on for the last few months. You've finished your pizza by this time and Noah's been resting his head on your shoulder for the last three episodes now. The light from outside is dimming, and you know you should probably take him back home. You've kept him here much longer than he agreed to, but he hadn't said anything, just kept saying to play the next episode. He was finally relaxed and seemed to have finally forgotten about the song, at least for the moment.

And selfishly, maybe a part of you wanted to keep him here, pressed into your side for just a little longer.

The episode finally comes to an end and you go to ask if he wants to watch another episode, but a soft snore interrupts your sentence. You blink down at Noah asleep on your shoulder, face pressed against you and mouth open. You probably should be a little disgusted at the way he is most definitely drooling on you but instead you feel... endeared. He feels safe enough to sleep around you, and that feeling in your chest returns.

You reach for your phone next to you, typing out a text to Jolly that Noah had fallen asleep and you'll bring him back whenever he wakes up.

Thank fuck. He's been on nightmare mode for the last three days. He needs this.

A moment later another message from him comes through.

Thanks, btw. I don't know what he'd do without you, and quite frankly, me either. ❤️

That feeling in your chest blossoms into something you can't quite explain, a smile stretching across your lips. You send back your response before tossing your phone onto the couch and you rest your head against his, pressing your body closer to your best friends.

You're not sure what you'd do without him either.

[finchly-tintinnabulation]

- Foster Fail -

OCs: Parker Brown (baseline), Battle-Brother Mikhail (Dark Angel), Blood Claw Kári (Space Wolf). Brother-Sergeant Perseus (Ultramarine) and Battle-Brother Celeborn (Lamenter) are mentioned but don't appear yet

Tags: Space Marine Husbandry (Sentience), found family dynamics that will be elaborated on, fluffy self indulgent nonsense, Space Wolf is big doggy, gay ass space marines

This idea wormed its way into my brain after binge reading @kit-williams's Space Marine Husbandry stuff, though what I've written may not exactly be compliant with the established lore in terms of bonds. Idk I'm a silly guy who likes nontraditional found family,, ty to @daily-shenanigans784 for the beta and to my beloved Blood Angels fan for giving a seal of approval lol

The Chorus: @thisuserislilsilly

- - -

“I just don’t see myself taking on any Blood Angels in the future.” 

“Really?” The new case worker tipped her head to Parker, clutching her clipboard and giving him a bemused look over the cafe table.

“Don’t get me wrong, my friend has a beautiful Sanguinary flock with a dreadnought they absolutely adore, so I can see the appeal. It’s more of a lifestyle thing.” Licking his lips, he brushed the last crumbs of pastry from his fingers, crumpling up his napkin to discard on his empty plate.

“You say that like you don’t have a Lamenter roosting in your barn, Mr. Brown. Clearly you know how to keep ‘em.” She tittered. Speaking to another baseline was certainly a change of pace from Ankesh, the Salamander he’d corresponded with the last few years, but so far he had no complaints about Lorraine.

Parker scoffed. “Celeborn and Percy are a bonded pair, I had no say in the matter.” Well, that wasn’t entirely true, but it was hard to imagine life without the Lamenter these days.

“Oh, Perseus? Your Ultramarine?” Lorraine’s bleach blonde hair swished as she glanced down at her clipboard.

“Mhm.”

She peered over the top of her forms, expression quizzical as he took a final swig of his coffee. “I thought you and him were bonded.”

“Hm? Why’s that?” With a raised brow, he wiped his lips on the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Well, I’ve never seen a solitary marine follow a baseline without one before.” Her round eyes bored into him, seeking answers like she could drill them out with a stare. Okay, maybe there was something he could complain about. Way too much eye contact.

“Dunno about any of that, but Percy’s family, no matter how you slice it.” Shrugging, Parker tried to find a spot on Lorraine’s nose he could look at more comfortably.

“How long have you been…?”

“Seven years.” He stated before her inquisitive silence could stretch too long. “I’m 23, be 24 in the spring.”

Beaming, her round eyes grew even wider. “No wonder you’re the local loyalist foster, if you’ve been working with Astartes for so long.” 

“Working is a strong word.” Chuckling, Parker couldn’t help but be reminded of days crawling out his bedroom window only to be scruffed by a scowling Ultramarine. “Speaking of, you bring the file?” 

“Sure thing.” Flipping past what he assumed to be his foster record, Lorraine unclipped a few papers from the stack on her clipboard, passing them across the table as he pushed his glasses up his nose. 

In the interest of skimming the whole document, Parker removed the paperclip holding the stack together and picked out the important details. Battle-Brother Mikhail, Primaris, loyalist. His brow furrowed. Dark Angel. First-time foster. “...No brothers-in-arms with this one, Lori?”

“Nope! You said you wanted to take it easy for the holidays, so I figured you’d only want one on your hands.” Lorraine grinned, seemingly oblivious to the migraine already brewing.

Fostering the rough cases of loyalist Astartes was Parker’s bread and butter, and it was partially because he had gotten quite good at tuning into their needs. Loyalists might have seemed easier than Chaos marines or Renegades, but that was only on the surface, as they could become just as unruly and sullen. Potentially violent.

 A great many fosters that had gone through Pinkman Ranch, and the most common were those poorly adjusted to the second millennium, either through recent arrival or homes that couldn’t provide for their needs. An industrious and well behaved Ultramarine or a beautiful and artistic Blood Angel could very easily become agitated and restless with someone who expected an easy foray into the benefits of having a space marine in the household. His father had taught him that the hard way.

“You’ve worked with Dark Angels before, right?” The case worker piped up, snapping Parker out of his contemplation.

“Yup. A pair of them, last year.” He mused, remembering that they were… hard to motivate. For lack of a better word, space marines with hobbies often adjusted better to a time without the strife they were built for, giving them passions to pursue. Dark Angels ran on piety and persecution as their duties, which proved to be incredibly difficult to get past. “They aren’t exactly big talkers.”

“Which makes them perfect for a nice quiet vacation!” Lorraine forged ahead, nodding eagerly.

“Mhm.” Quiet was exactly what he was worried about. Years of familiarity had cracked Percy’s shell, Celeborn was forthcoming with his needs and had Percy to advocate, and Kári wore his emotions as plainly as wearing his armor. Without a battle-brother for support, to ease his way into a new worldview, fostering a Dark Angel could be tricky and delicate work.

“My only question is how you think your Space Wolf might interact with him.”

“Kári listens to his pack. He knows to back off.” The concern was how the foster would react to his squad, not the other way around. The Blood Claw could be rambunctious, but Parker worried how such an insular marine would warm up, especially if he was out of commission for a bit and unable to stand between them. However, that wasn’t something Lorraine needed to know about.

“Anything else you wanted to ask? I assume you already know how to contact the local base.”

Parker dragged a hand through his hair, staring down at the small photo of the Primaris attached to the document. Serious but slim face, dark hair, a proud but haunted look in his eye. Of course he could always decline, but… this was part of why he started fostering after all. Percy would always be there if things got out of hand. 

“Nope, I think we’re good to go.” He paperclipped the file back together and handed it back across the table to Lorraine. “I assume you’ll send him by tomorrow?”

-

In the cold grey light of early morning, frost covered grass crunched beneath boots and sabatons alike, padding along the fence of the property. For someone so big, Parker was continuously impressed by how quiet an enormous stack of muscle and armor like a space marine could move so quietly, the Dark Angel having fallen into step behind him. 

“Just so we understand each other, you’re here to adjust, so I only have one big rule. Stay on the property, don’t go running off into the woods.” Parker looked sidelong over the barbed wire at the dense thicket of blue spruce blanketing the mountainside. “Rocky Mountain National Park is pretty damn big, so there’s plenty of room for war bands and renegades and the like, but you can’t go running after them while I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on you. Understood?”

Looking back at the marine, Parker waited for some indication of understanding, thankfully receiving a nod. 

“Great. You can run off and hunt once we’re done, though if you can’t stand being idle that long, there’s plenty to do around here.” He smiled at the impassable helmet, hoping the Astartes felt welcome behind it. Mikhail hadn’t said a word since the local base had dropped him off, but Parker had to admit to himself he didn’t expect much else. 

“Most of the profitable work is seasonal thanks to the livestock we keep, the sheep get sheared in the spring, and we harvest honey from the bees in summer and fall, but upkeep is year round. There’s also the chickens up by the house, but they’re more like pets, and we eat the eggs more than we sell them.” Meandering towards the barn, Parker chattered away, a soft pride in his chest as he talked about what had become the last few years of his life. 

It wasn’t long before he was intercepted, a behemoth in grey armor rising from where he’d been sitting amongst the flock of sheep and jogging over with a sharp toothed grin. 

“This our fresh blood, PB?” Kári crowded into Parker’s space as usual, grabbing the baseline by the underarms and scooping him up for a hug in greeting. Though the armor was cold in the winter air, his body glove and skin radiated heat, and without his helmet Parker had free rein to run his hand through the Space Wolf’s short auburn curls. 

Parker chuckled. “Be nice, there’s no need to call him that. Kári, this is Battle-Brother Mikhail. Mikhail, Blood Claw Kári.” Twisting in the affectionate marine’s grip, he turned to smile encouragingly at Mikhail, gesturing as best he could for introductions. 

“No need to keep your helmet on, cousin. Let me see that pretty face of yours.” The Space Wolf teased, expression wolfishly playful as he nosed Parker’s cheek, ruffling his hair with warm puffs of breath. 

“Be nice, I said.” Parker groused, righting his glasses as Kári’s nuzzling had knocked them askew. “You don’t need to if you don’t want to, Brother Mikhail.”

Silent through their exchange, Parker half expected the Dark Angel to ignore Kári, but to his surprise after a moment of stillness Mikhail reached up. With a hiss of a releasing seal, his helm was removed and magnetized to his hip. 

The printed black and white thumbnail image on his file did him no justice. Wavy black hair hung down to the man’s jaw, framing oddly wide green eyes and high cheekbones. He, much like Kári, had a look of youth almost uncharacteristic of the Adeptus Astartes, but with a pale face rather than the Space Wolf’s freckled and suntanned one. 

Kári whistled appreciatively. “Oh, you are pretty! Why don’t you waste some time with me tending the sheep?“ Parker was ready to scold him when Mikhail defied his expectations once again and looked shy. A blushing Astartes was truly a sight to behold, and the baseline had to consciously keep his mouth shut so as to not gape at him. 

“That which does not serve the Emperor’s will is not anything praiseworthy.” Mikhail muttered, voice soft but oddly robotic. Blinking, Parker stared at the Dark Angel for a long moment before covering his mouth with a hand, almost certain that laughing would be seen as disrespectful.

“Seeing as he isn’t here to impose that will, I wouldn’t concern yourself.” Tipping his head at the other marine, Kári spoke flippantly. Already pushing buttons. Mikhail’s brow furrowed into a frown. 

“What he means to say,” Parker quickly interjected, “Is that nobody can find your Emperor in our time. Humanity is not united under him like in yours, so… he’s not exactly leading anything here. At the moment.”

Jaw working, Mikhail’s lips twisted as he seemed to think for a long moment, perhaps coming up with a retort as he stared intently at the baseline. It was what Parker often feared working with loyalists; they only knew to be His weapons. However, there was no way of knowing what Mikhail thought, as he once again fell silent with a brief nod of understanding. 

“How about we head back to the house? Percy and Celeborn are still baking?” Uneasy but relieved for the time being, Parker steered the conversation away from the Astartes’s past (future?) and patted Kári’s gorget in a request to be put down that was quickly obliged. 

“Lead the way.” Kári pressed his nose to the baseline’s mousy brown hair one last time before letting him go, and Parker started the trek back to the farmhouse, the two space marines following behind like a pair of very large, armored ducklings. 

[genderqueerdykes]

Won't go into details about my variation, but I'm an AFAB intersex, and in the past few years my body has grown very sensitive to testosterone (it didn't really show before, but suddenly got triggered after high school for some reason, as if I'd gotten a second puberty despite not taking HRT) and I now have a lot of body hair among other things

It has also led me to now start balding at just 23. I'll just see how I feel about it as it goes, but are there any physical concerns to losing your hair? Like skin stuff?

Sorry if my wording is confusing, English isn't my native language

that's a good question, i actually don't know too much about the process of losing hair, itself, and what kinds of impacts that may have on skin health. i do know that this means that you do need to be careful about being out in the sun for long periods of time, because sunburns on your scalp are now something you can possibly face

that's very interesting that you're going through those changes. that's pretty cool that you're trying to just vibe and roll with the hair loss! a lot of people become very distraught over it, i admire your chill attitude! if anyone else who is balding or has gone bald that would like to share info for this anon, please feel free to, i would love to learn more. so far i've only seen my hairline get pushed back maybe an inch at most, so this is not something i'm dealing with at the moment.

hope we can get some information for you!

[whoops-all-jennas]

Sweater Weather

Wednesday x fem!reader (Fantasy AU)

"Cause it's too cold for you here and now."

"So let me hold, both your hands in the holes of my sweater."

Summary: You go missing while foraging before a snow storm hits, Wednesday goes to search for you.

Warnings: Descriptions of death

The light trots of my horse Nero fill the air, muted by the wind of the angry blizzard. We must move slowly, only able to see so far in front of us. The lantern barely providing any assistance in the boundless sea of snow carried in the wind.

"Y/n!" I try to yell, met with the wind's deafening pressure. Hardly even hearing myself.

I'm wearing many layers. The tip of my nose red and my fingertips turning purple.

The blood restricts in my body, my heart focusing on keeping my core warm.

I don't care about what I may lose. There would be no greater loss than the loss of you.

"Y/n!" I desperately cry into the wind your name once more, met with nothing but my fear.

How far could you have gotten?

We continue to trec through the boundless snow. Nero's movement becoming slower, stiff. Nero's joints probably feel as stiff as mine in this harsh environment.

One of Nero's legs give in, causing us both to plummet to the soft snow.

"Nero!" I pull myself off the ground and move to the front of him as fast as my frigid joints will let me, blocking the snow in my face with my arm. The sharp chill leaving a blue tint to my already pale skin.

"It's okay Nero! we'll stop and make a fire to warm you up." I grab their face with my frigid hands, barely able to bend my stiff fingers.

I grab the lead and pull with the little energy I have. Nero is barely responsive, their eyes nearly lifeless.

I look around with haste, through the blinding storm I manage to notice a small cave.

"Nero stand, we will find shelter in that cave." I pull again on the unresponsive lead. Nero's eyes now lack all life, their eyes barely open.

I stare at Nero's lifeless body for a moment before going to close their eyes, so they may rest.

"I apologize for what I've done to you, my faithful horse." I pet the bridge of their nose with my cold hands.

"I will return, with Y/n. We will give you a proper burial." I slowly stand, fighting the resistance of my cold ligaments. I find my way into the small dank cave, guided by the muted light of my lantern.

I rest by the warmth of the small fire I manage to bring to life, finding my eyes drifting closed. I resist the temptation of slumber. The weak, but warm fire needs to be maintained.

I treat the fire, feeding it more sticks to fuel the flames. I start to regain feelings in my fingers, the blue hint fading to reveal the color of life coursing through my thawed veins.

I now find the temptation irresistible. I lay for a moment, soon drifting into a peaceful rest.

The warmth of the sun meets my face through the window of our cottage. I sit up to meet the warm summer air meeting my skin through our opened windowed.

I look through the window, my eyes adjusting to the light. I'm soon met with your figure treating the garden.

Your smile meets my face, I wish I could find the words to express what you meant to me.

I stand, changing from my pajamas to my day clothes, soon meeting you out in the lush and lively garden.

"I was thinking.. " You're watering the plants full of life while you speak.

"We should go down to the lake today, just enjoy the beautiful day for a bit." I find your smile meeting my stoic face. I sometimes wish I could be as expressive as you. For my smile to meet yours, as it fills you with the same warmth your smile fills me.

"We can do that." Before I find time to complete my statement, I find you have already taken hold of my hand. Interlacing our fingers.

You take Nero by the lead, hopping in the front section of the saddle. I soon follow and hop onto the back section of the saddle.

You lead Nero to the lake, the sound of their hooves trotting on the dirt path filling the woods. Squirrels and other critters fleeing from the noises.

We're soon met with the lake, the water perfectly reflecting the sky and trees.

The air that was once warm, nips at your skin with a sudden chill.

Suddenly you vanish, leaving just Nero and I. The sky getting dark and cloudy, intimidation catching onto the faint rays of light from the blocked sun.

Snow starts to rapidly stick to my skin, the sudden cold feeling like needles on my skin.

I block my face with my hand from the cold snow and fierce wind.

"Y/n!" I shout, unable to hear my voice

The lake starts to crystalize over, a fog looming over the frigid ice.

I find myself falling suddenly to the cold, soft floor. Nero was now gone.

I quickly stand, watching the scene around me. I wrap my frigid arms around my chest, feeling the cold burry itself into my bones.

"Y/n!"

"Nero!"

I awaken to the smell of smoke, faint embers take place over what once was a lively fire.

I stand already cold, the fire must've been out for a while. Grabbing my lantern before going to continue my search for you.

It is now night time, the storm still spinning wildly with sharp snow and wind. Its more unbearable than before.

My ligaments soon start feeling stiff, but I mustn't give in.

Without your presence life meaning nothing to me. I will find you or die trying.

As I persist through the treacherous storm, my fingers meet the same fate as before. Blue finding a hint of color over my pale skin.

I shiver viciously, my steps slowing. Resisting the urge to give in.

I find myself in what seems to be a field, covered in the freezing snow.

I take a moment to dig through the snow to be met with thick ice from a lake.

I trec onward. The already muted light from my lantern dimming.

"No, no!" I start the shack the lantern as it's light now breathing it's last breath.

I throw the lantern with as much strength as I can muster in front of me, unable to hear the sound of it land through the vicious storm.

I am now completely blind to the storm, no sense of what direction I came from or where to go.

Is my death inevitable?

I still resist, my steps slow. Finding it exceedingly difficult to bend my knees.

My knees finally buckle as I fall into the snow. My face meeting the cold snow, unable to recognize the temperature of it.

I try to force myself to stand. Only holding my self up with my arms, my purple fingers digging into the white field beneath me.

My legs are now unable to move, any attempt met with defeat.

Was my journey useless?

Was my attempt futile?

I'm so cold

So cold.

A blue light beams through the snow from the lake below as the storm starts to soften. A gap in the clouds revealing a full moon, lighting the field with its soft white glow.

The light moves forward from below me, revealing a silhouette.

Your glowing silhouette.

Your skin looks warm and colored, you eyes soft and inviting. You approach, the only sound is the crunching of the snow compressing underneath your foot steps.

"It's going to be okay Wednesday, I am here now."

She holds my face, a gentle tear streaming down my face at her touch.

You almost appear as ethereal, angelic.

"You have found me."

Your warm lips meeting my purple cold ones, the heat coursing through my veins. It feels as if the color returns to my skin for a moment, holding onto your loving embrace.

My body is illuminated by the pale glow of the moon. My skin a pale blue, a tear frozen onto my cheek as I rest my head in the soft snow.

A gentle smile frozen onto my purple lips.

My lifeless body will soon be buried above this lake, and will join the water with the life of spring.

But for now, I will rest in the snow. My body cold, but my heart warm with my final memories of you.

a/n: hope you guys enjoy this quick little story, I decided to try something new a make it take place in an alternate universe. lmk if you want more fantasy au fics :) I'm not too sure how I feel about this but I decided to post it because why not

[ennn]

Re: "I can't believe Agatha gave up her quest for power due to Kingo's speech"

Okay but like, she really didn't? If you listen to what he says, Kingo appeals to her to focus on a different kind of power.

"The movies are magic Agatha. Hell, they're better than magic. Because they change the world by changing people. By making them feel something real. And with that kind of power, you don't have to be feared. Because you can be adored."

Prior to this, Agatha was demanding that the people of Earth kneel before her given her newly acquired cosmic might. Subservience. She's absorbed the power of two gods, she's gotten what she's wanted right?

Agatha, you're the only one you ever seem to lose to.

Now I've no idea whether Nicky or Rio are in the picture in this universe so I'm going to just focus on the bones of Agatha's character. And the whole tragic thing about Agatha is that deep deep down—behind all her schemes and lies and performance—Agatha desperately wants to be loved, to be part of a family and community.

Agatha doesn't really want to rule a damn planet. She wants love and respect and appreciation—and mind-controlling billions of people isn't really the same thing.

And the way I see it, Kingo gets Agatha enough to basically tell her to chill out and focus on what makes her more happy: Agatha can make the world adore her through the movies. It's just a different softer kind of power and influence. It's an option where Agatha gets to feel less alone.

Ignoring the whole "you're just like me" schtick, the whole appeal here also works coming from Kingo because he:

isn't judging or condemning Agatha for all the stuff she's done so far (I'm pretty sure if the Eternals weren't space robots they'd be dead from the siphoning already)

understands that Agatha's probably been mistreated in the past ("at some point somewhere in our lives, the world made us feel small")

has lived like 7,000 years and is willing to stick with her in mlm/wlm solidarity

Besides, Agatha still has her crazy Celestial powers and if their last conversation is any indicator, Agatha's all too eager to siphon a few more of them. In the meantime, she's simply building an incredible reputation and fanbase on Earth. This universe should still be very nervous about this now-cosmic entity.

[storygnome]

💗💗💗 Recent devotee of Hers as well - and my experience so far has been very gradual. She came to me at Midsummer two years ago, in a meditation - and in flame form, to the point that I didn't realize it was Her at the time and spent time in worship and research of other Deities before it was made clear to me that it was Her (which was, again, a gradual thing. Like a very slow awareness, and suddenly the clarity of "Oh. It's You" after months and months and months of an impression I didn't fully grasp).

(I'm of Irish descent but in a way that like.... most of that has been lost, information-wise and traditions-wise, and She is such Big Energy and big history that it's taken me some time to get confident enough to take the hand She is reaching out - not that one needs to be of any specific descent to work with Her, obviously, I just had a lot of baggage in that area and apparently needed Her patience and grace, which She has given to me in spades.)

The only signs I've gotten from Her are of fire (again, in meditation/visualization), and that warm impression. And just like, a sureness that She is the right direction for me right now. Basically anytime I take the initiative to believe in myself and have self-confidence and assertive self-compassion, I feel Her there. And though She is a hearth-Deity and a healing-Deity too, the impression I've been getting from Her has been very much about Her role as Goddess of smithcraft/crafting in general/poetry (I'm a visual artist and a writer). I'm not sure what that's gonna look like moving forward, but what I feel from Her is very deep, and very patient.

And on that note, back when I was still gathering my confidence to work with Her, I did ask what She wanted from me and the impression I got at that point was to let myself take things - take my growing relationship with Her - slowly. Things have amped up between us recently (not exactly sure why, except that it feels like it's time. I must have moved through some sort of blockage!) but what I get from Her initial guidance, there, is that She is a comforting, resting, patient space and wants us to come to Her as we need to, however that looks. She gives that permission, and is so glad when we take it. I really feel that. I was reading other people's notes on their reblogs of this post and someone mentioned Her as the archetype of an Irish Mother - like expecting you to do your part, put the work in that is yours but is there cheering you on - and that really resonated with me too!! And last thing I'll mention is that since I've gotten serious about working with Her, I've gotten subtle, positive nudges from two of my existing Patrons as well (Sigyn and Persephone), and the energy around that feels so warming and reassuring.

So whatever reassurance you're getting as you reach out to Her more, and however your growing relationship with Her is developing, I say lean into it - and in my experience, She will be there for you 🌼

Followers of Brigid,

How did you understand that she was calling you? I think she might be, but I needed help differentiating between my impulsiveness and a true nudge, you get what I'm saying!

What are the signs? What's she like, what's your impression of her personality? I wanna know everything about her.

[secondbeatsongs]

[kumakuma-circus]

investitism team.

[sysig]

Enecomimi Banzaiiii (Patreon)

[xellandria]

Week one of @stranglethorn-bonfire-bash's art bash this year is "Hidden Treasure" and for once, I immediately had an idea of what I wanted to do: make friends! Literally! A quick walk over to the local fabric/craft store (after making sure they had what I wanted via the internet) and I had the materials to make 31 gold coins and 30 silver ones. I ended up only making 20 gold and 6 silver because the pens I was using all kept running out of ink, and at some point I'd decided I'd had enough, heh.

Of course, now I have almost an entire can of greyish-gold spray paint that I gotta find a use for...