#but have it anyway

[lover-of-mine]

You're the reason, the only reason...

[miasmaghoul]

Okay, you said you wanted non-sexual prompts, so if this is a no thats totally fine. Could you write like casual piss? I don't know how to word this. No smut involved, just domestic? If that makes sense...

anon please know that the phrase "casual, domestic piss" has been on repeat in my weird little brain since i first read this, and also that i had an idea for it immediately

god i am such a pissboy smh

anyway, here, have some soft rulti ft a little casual, domestic piss.

what a sentence.

Rain is not what you could call a morning person.

He never rouses before noon, at least not willingly, and even when he is awake he simply migrates. Shuffles out of bed and drapes himself dramatically over a sofa to doze back off until someone pays attention to him. Trying to wake Rain up before he's ready is a futile task at best, and at worst a bite risk. Generally this isn't much of a problem - mass is in the evening, there are no strictly scheduled mealtimes or chores, so Rain is free to be as slothful as his heart desires.

Even rehearsal doesn't usually interfere.

On an average day, any practice happens whenever the ghouls feel like it. There's no rhyme or reason to it, really; sometimes they have creative energy that needs expressing, sometimes Dew gets a bug up his ass about working on a solo and drags along company, sometimes Mountain gets in one of his moods and hauls Rain over his shoulder for an impromptu...rhythm session.

Point is, it's not really something that's planned. More of a casual affair, something they do every day but never the same way twice. Again, this works out perfectly for Rain. There's never a rush to start the day, and the others know by now not to expect him at anything close to a reasonable hour.

The issue arises when tours approach.

Unfortunately (for Rain), Copia has proven to be a morning person. Rain (somewhat) silently laments that fact every time Sister Imperator announces a new leg, a new cycle. Every time, Rain hopes it'll be different. That Copia will suddenly despise the idea of singing with the morning sun, that he won't expect them to be up and ready to go by 9am, can you imagine?

(It should be noted that Rain is the only ghoul that actually minds this.)

Alas, this never proves to be the case, and as soon as his phone chimed with the notification of an Imperator meeting Rain knew that his beauty sleep was soon to be severely compromised.

"Next week," Copia had said after Sister Imperator laid out the proposed itinerary. "Next week, on Sunday, we will resume our standard rehearsal schedule."

He'd handed out a list of thirty songs to each of them, a not-so-short list for the ghouls to study and provide input on. An opportunity for them to put together their own setlists to compare and contrast them with one another.

Rain had used his sheet of paper to hide his frown, dreading the fact that Sunday was only five sleeps away.

"I know that face," Swiss had teased when they left the meeting, looping a strong arm around Rain's shoulders. "Someone's being a pouty princess again."

Rain had given him a hiss, but Swiss just grinned at him in that very Swiss way and, well, Rain can never stay mad at him anyway.

"Not all of us look good with eye bags like yours" he'd grumbled, a statement that had wrung a loud ha from Swiss.

"I dunno," he'd snickered, ducking his head to knock his horns with Rain's. "You look pretty damn good when I tire you out."

Rain had rolled his eyes so hard he'd gotten dizzy, but it wasn't an accusation he could deny.

He also couldn't deny Swiss the opportunity to prove his point, and as they lay in the afterglow Rain gives a mighty yawn.

"This's bullshit," he slurs against Swiss' chest, nuzzling into the spot that smells the most like pepper and whisky and old weed. "Who even gets up that early?"

"Most of the abbey is up at dawn," Swiss chuckles, settling into Rain's lanky hold. "You're the exception to the rule, starfish."

Rain would argue, but then Swiss' purr kicks up and he's sinking his fingers into his sweat-damp waves and Rain feels little desire to do more than enjoy the way Swiss envelopes him. The way their skin sticks together with drying sweat, among other things. Swiss had given him a courteous cleanup where it mattered, but Rain's entirely too wiped out for a shower. Wonderfully sore all over, drained, and way too dehydrated to stand up for very long.

He doesn't mind it though - not when it makes him smell like Swiss too.

"Whatever," he grumbles, grabbing the covers and tugging them up over his shoulders. "S'still bullshit."

He's been fighting to keep his eyes open for the last twenty minutes or so, drifting on casual conversation and the brush of Swiss' fingertips along his bare back. Now that they're finally settling in Rain finds himself fading by the second.

"Don' wake me up'n the morning," he adds with another yawn, and the last thing Rain hears before all goes quiet is the raspy little laugh Swiss gives in return.

The next thing he hears is rushing water, creaking pipes and the telltale twitter of birdsong.

It feels like no time at all since he sunk into the peaceful realm of sleep, but when he dares to crack an eye Rain finds himself assaulted by rosy sunlight. Morning. Early, by the look of it. Rain shuts his eyes tight and groans.

"Finally," a deep voice hums, clearly amused. Footsteps pad across the floor and Rain feels the mattress dip behind him. "I've been shaking you for ten minutes."

Swiss reaches up to scratch at the base of one of Rain's horns, affectionate. Rain makes an unhappy sound, as close to a real whine as he ever gets, and Swiss gives his shoulder a squeeze.

"Why 'm I awake?" Rain hates his morning voice, all thick and inelegant. "Did I sleep 'til Sunday?"

"If that's what it takes to get you out of bed," Swiss chuffs, reaching up to tuck a stray curl behind Rain's ear. "Let's go, up 'n at 'em," he encourages, regardless of continual grumbly protests. "You might as well get used to existing before lunchtime while you can."

"This is torture," Rain complains, tucking his knees up towards his chest. "Inhumane."

"Good thing we aren't human, I guess."

Rain cracks an eye open just to shoot Swiss' blurry visage a sideways glare. Swiss winks as he lifts the covers just enough to lean down and press a kiss to Rain's shoulder. He rests his chin there after, gives him a warm smile.

"C'mon, raindrop," he lilts, sneaking lithe fingers under the covers. Dragging them along the nape of Rain's neck. "I'm drawing you a bath, surely you can forgive me."

Ah, that would explain the water he can still hear. Rain blinks at him, sluggish.

"Remains to be seen," he grouses, "but it's a start."

Swiss flashes him a grin, and then those warm, cozy covers are ripped from Rain's naked body with no ceremony. He yelps as the chilly morning air hits his skin, more awake than he ever intended to be and scowling at the other ghoul.

"Oh don't make that face," Swiss teases, reaching down to give Rain's nose a gentle flick. "C'mon, I put that weird shit you like in the tub and everything."

Swiss holds Rain's ankle, rubs his thumb over the bony ridge of it while Rain sniffs at the air. Picks up notes of rosemary and peppermint, citrus and rose. The bath salts Mountain had gifted him for Yule, an energizing scent that's sure to chase the exhaustion from his muscles.

Still, he can't give in that easily.

"Fine," he pouts, stretching his legs and not at all adoring the way Swiss' fingers glide along his skin. "But only if you carry me."

The words earn him an extreme eye roll, but Swiss can't hide his amusement. He heaves a mighty sigh, cracks his neck and knuckles, and Rain most definitely doesn't watch the muscles in his arms and chest flex.

"As you command, princess."

Swiss says it with an exaggerated bow, and then he's scooping Rain up with no further preamble. Rain snickers, looping his arms around Swiss' neck and nuzzling into his shoulder. He's warm and solid, comfy, and if the walk to the bathroom was more than ten steps Rain could very easily drift off again.

As it stands, he's being set down far too soon for his liking, letting out a squeak when his bare ass meets the cold marble of his vanity. Swiss kisses him on the forehead when Rain frowns once again, giving his stomach a little tickle just to make him squirm.

"You want it hot or scalding?" Swiss asks as he strides to the tub, steam wafting around him. Rain stares unabashedly at his ass, eyes tracing the obvious bite mark he left there the night before.

"Boil me like a lobster," Rain sighs, stretching his arms over his head and trilling at the way his spine pops. Swiss gives him a thumbs up, twisting the faucet knobs while Rain yawns. "How much salt did you put in?"

"Enough to make you smell like the greenhouse for a week," Swiss replies, testing the temperature and only hissing a little at the heat. Rain takes a deep breath, taking in the herbal steam and letting it soak into his skin. "Mount'll be all over you."

"Don't sound so jealous," Rain says with a sleepy tilt, scratching at his chest, "you can share me once in a while."

Swiss snorts as he wipes his hand on the bath mat, turning back with a lazy smile on his face. Rain blows him a kiss while he swings his feet, ankles crossed, and doesn't complain when Swiss crowds him closer to the mirror ar his back. Palms planted on the vanity so he can lean in and nose at Rain's temple.

"You assume I want to share," Swiss rumbles, possessive fangs grazing Rain's jaw. It gives him the shivers in the best way, but Swiss doesn't push further. He steps back so Rain can see the sparkle in his golden eyes, the wrinkles at their corners. He's beautiful, and if Rain were in a more giving mood he'd say so. As it stands...

"You can cope," he mumbles, nose in the air, and earns another eye roll. Rain sticks his tongue out at the other ghoul just because he can, reaching for his comb to try and work out some of the knots Swiss gifted him last night. Before he can grab it, though-

"Ah," Swiss interrupts, batting at Rain's hand. Rain raises a brow as Swiss picks up the comb instead, moving to stand in front of him again. "You're playing princess this morning, remember?" He twirls the comb between two fingers, the same motion he does when he steals Mountain's sticks. "Lemme take care of you like one."

Swiss offers a roguish wink, and while some part of Rain knows that an offer like this - especially from Swiss - always comes with caveats, he can't find it in himself to argue. Blame it on sleep deprivation (nine hours isn't nearly enough), but all he can do is hum and nod.

"If you insist," he yawns, leaning forward to rest his cheek gainst Swiss' pecs, "but don't be surprised if you put me back to sleep."

Swiss' laugh resonates through his skull, dull claws scratch at his scalp, and the purr that kicks up in Rain's chest when he begins to comb is one he has no control over.

Swiss talks to him while he works, picking out every tangle he can find. Talks about everything and nothing, from the places they'll be playing this next tour, to the fitting for their new uniforms. Rain hums where appropriate, but mostly he drifts. Basks in the scratch of Swiss' chest hair against his cheek and the care with which he fixes his hair. It can't take more than a few minutes, but it feels like forever in the best way.

"Alright," Swiss eventually murmurs, stroking delicate fingers through Rain's knot-free waves. A delightful feeling that could put Rain back to sleep all on its own. "Ready for the bath, your highness?"

Rain huffs out a soft laugh, nips at his chest just hard enough to make Swiss jump. He's woozy when he sits up, half present and more than a little floaty, so relaxed he may yet melt into the sink beside him. He yawns again, smacks his lips while Swiss twirls a curl around his finger.

"Mm," Rain hums with a bleary blink. He reaches up to sling both arms around Swiss' neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss. "Almost," he sighs against Swiss' mouth. The other ghoul pulls back, gives him a quizzical look. "Gotta pee first," Rain elaborates, shooing Swiss away. "C'mon, lemme up."

"Nah," Swiss replies, waving a hand, and it takes Rain a second to register it. He grins again, happy as a clam, and then he's hoisting Rain up by the backs of his thighs and all Rain can do is scrabble at his back with a yelp, clinging.

"What the -"

Before he can get the words out, Swiss is setting him down again, right in front of the toilet. Lets Rain get his feet under him, holding his hips until he's balanced, and then he's pressing a quick kiss to his horn. Rain blinks up at him, opens his mouth to speak, but then Swiss is turning him on the spot. Snuggling himself right up to Rain's back and hooking his chin over his shoulder, dragging the tip of his nose along the shell of his ear.

"As you wish," he croons, low, and Rain chuckles. Leans back into that broad chest and moves to aim at the bowl, eager to empty himself so he can finally slide into the herbal soup Swiss has so lovingly prepared.

Swiss grabs his wrist before he can manage it, though, and Rain just stares at it. Blinks. Swiss lifts his hand to his lips, kisses Rain's palm.

"Uh-uh," he breathes, warm against his skin, "I told you, sweetheart," another kiss, to the inside of Rain's wrist, "lemme take care of you."

Rain shivers at the feel of a large hand coming to rest low on his stomach, the one holding his wrist guiding in to rest over Swiss' own hand. Rain stares down at them, laces his fingers with Swiss', and heaves a deep sigh when Swiss' other hand slides over his hip. Tracing the line of his happy trail with two fingertips, until he reaches the soft swell of Rain's cock.

Swiss takes it in hand, aims, and Rain feels the strangest bloom of warmth in his chest.

"Go on," Swiss encourages, kissing the hinge of his jaw, "when you're done I'll even scrub your back."

"You'd do that anyway," Rain replies, and Swiss gives him a half shrug.

"A little incentive never hurts."

Rain snorts, but doesn't feel the need to argue. He takes in the way his cock looks in Swiss' hand, pale against his skin, nothing sexual about it regardless of their position. Of the way he can feel every inch of Swiss against his back, warm and comfortable and familiar. It's intimate, to be sure, but in a context Rain isn't sure he's ever felt before.

Rain offers a pleased sigh when the last drops hit the water, lets Swiss give it a couple shakes, and then he's turning in his arms. Planting a kiss on his stubbled chin.

He gives Swiss' hand a squeeze, presses it into his belly, and both of them groan when the first few dribbles leak out. It's no time before Rain can let go fully, a steady stream of relief, silly giggles escaping him when Swiss moves his dick around to draw shapes in the water. Swirls and circles and a their initials, because Swiss doesn't know how not to be a sap.

"Better?"

"Better," Rain smiles, wrapping long arms around Swiss' waist. "Now get me in that tub, I'm sick of being sticky."

Swiss laughs, gives him a squeeze, and this time Rain's expecting to be lifted.

"Such a princess," Swiss complains, lowering him into the steaming bath, and Rain groans. Swiss ruffles his hair, wasting no time in sliding into the tub behind him.

"Guess that makes you my prince," Rain mumbles, resting back against him the moment Swiss settles, and the pleased purr that rattles through his chest is almost enough to turn it into a jacuzzi.

[adharastarlight]

Reg: the cat urge to only respond by tilting my head or raising my eyebrows

James: and scratching, he does that too

Sirius, blissfully ignorant to the innuendo: he may do the head thing, but he doesn't scratch

James:

Remus:

Reg:

James: ...right, what was I thinking haha

[whiskygoldwings]

Anecdotes of a Guard Life: Stone's Tattoo

CW: Sexualised discussion, mocking of a character for not understanding what a sexual term means (Thorn's good-natured here, but don't be dicks people!)

I saw a post about Stone and his tattoo, and I couldn't help but think what Fox thinks...

-

It’s not always fun and games in the Guard. Sometimes, it’s serious matters requiring serious responses.

“Do you think Stone’s tattoo means what I think it means?”

This is not one of those matters.

Fox places his finger and thumb on the bridge of his nose, and desperately wishes for patience. He’s 36 hours in. His caf mug is empty. There’s still a pile of datapads as tall as Thire (who’s 2 inches shorter than the rest of him and will never be allowed to forget it) waiting for him. And Thorn’s sitting with their feet on his desk, throwing a squishy ball that frankly, Fox doesn’t want to know how they got hold of, and asking inane, stupid questions that make Fox want to bury his head in his hands and scream.

It’s a typical Taungsday really.

“What?” Fox asks, knowing there’s absolutely no getting out of a conversation Thorn has decided to have. He’d have more luck asking the Chancellor for a tenday off, and that won’t happen until there’s snow on Tattooine.

Thorn hums. “Stone’s tattoo. What exactly do you think he meant by that?”

Fox squints at Thorn. “Which one?”

The ball drops into Thorn’s hands but doesn’t get thrown back up, as they turn to blink at Fox instead. “The one on his head?” There’s an amused tone to their voice, and Fox narrows his eyes further.

“69?”

Thorn’s lips twitch. “That uh... That’d be the one, yes.”

Fox thinks for a second, then seesaws his hand in the armoured version of a shrug. “I always thought it was a bit weird. His ident code ends in 68, maybe it’s a batchmate or something?” He ducks back towards his datapads, hoping that’s the end of that so he can keep plodding his way through the rest of his mountain of datapads.

It is not the end of that. He should know better to be hopeful.

Thorn swings their feet off his desk, and leans towards him. “Fox. Do you... Do you know what 69 means?”

Fox glares at him. It’s a number. What the kriff is Thorn on about? He thinks quickly, trying to remember if the number has ever come to his attention for some reason. Other than numerous recquisition forms, he really can’t imagine why he’d care.

Thorn leans back, and their expression tells Fox he’s in deep, deep danger. His spine straightens, and his brows furrow into a glare on instinct.

Thorn’s not phased. The fucker. They’ve developed immunity to him. He’d almost be proud of the dikut, except this means Thorn won’t back off like the others.

He staunchly ignores the warm feeling in his chest at that.

“Fox, I cannot stress just how much you need to get out more.” Thorn says, voice haughty and nose tipped up into the air.

“Thorn, I will put you on Senate duty for a month.” Fox states sweetly, teeth gritted.

Thorn visibly wilts. “You wouldn’t.”

Fox merely raises an eyebrow.

Thorn sighs. “Seriously, do you not know?”

Fox glares. “Who the fuck cares? So Stone has a number on his head! As long as he doesn’t take his helmet off in the Senate it’s not a problem.”

Thorn’s silent, and that’s dangerous. Fox glances up at them, tearing his eyes away from the datapad, only to see their eyebrow twitching, and their mouth strangely twisted like they’re trying to hold back a laugh.

He narrows his eyes at them, watching as they put their hand over their eyes, and take several, giggly, deep breaths. They manage to calm themselves, slide their hand down, and glance at him, then abruptly whip it back up again and make a strange, choked noise.

Fox puts up with this for far longer than he really should have done, but his patience is thin under the strain of lack of caf, and he snaps. “Thorn, get the fuck out of my office if you’re not going to explain yourself.”

Thorn squeaks, something Fox has definitely never heard before, before rising to their feet, hand still covering their eyes until they turn away from Fox, where they drop their hand to their hip and bend over to take a few, deep breaths. Abruptly, they stand, grabbing their helmet, and Fox could swear he hears them mutter “Gotta get him out of the office more” as they leave.

Fox rolls his eyes, then bends back to his datapads, frowning at the form he could swear he’s already read but can’t remember.

Hmm...

He makes a note on one datapad, grabbing another to cross-reference.

Maybe he should ask Stone what his tattoo means...

[khaoray]

What I Watched in 2022 ⤖ 45. The Bear Season One (2022)

That restaurant, it has and it does, mean a lot to people. It means a lot to me.

[hl-obsessed]

Tomlinsons out in London ✨

[click for better quality]

[th3archivist]

“I watch the Sandman for the plo-“

No I don’t. I watch it for the sad, wet cat that is Dream of the Endless and nothing else.

Okay fine, Hob too.

And the plot is pretty good i guess.

Wait, why is Satan so hot?

[ashotofogdensoldfirewhiskey]

The Worst Murderer

It’s not that he wants to have killed someone. At least, not exactly. 

James had tried to make light of it the first time he had. 

“It’s like he was trying to die. Fucker stumbled into it, wasn’t even aiming for him,” he’d said, taking a drag from a cigarette. Sirius had grinned, but noticed the way the cigarette trembled slightly in James’ fingers all the same, the way he took a particularly long drag afterward.

He’d reckoned that was just James, though. “Ever the man of honor,” Sirius had mocked aloud but quietly coveted. 

But then, Remus had come back from a mission with a haunted look in his eye a few weeks later. “Flint’s dead,” he’d reported quietly, while the rest of him - his slumped shoulders, white lips - screamed and I killed him. 

There must be something to it, then, Sirius had thought. Killing must change you, no matter the scum at the other end of the spell. He’d tried to use that thought as a comfort, when he’d felt shamefully envious of them. 

Sirius had done a lot of damage, sure. Been involved in countless missions. But no one had died at his hand, that he knew of. And it felt, in the height of war, like he wasn’t pulling his weight. Like he was missing out on the action. Like killing was a right of passage. 

Peter had been predictably squeaky about it when he’d finally done it, trembling and shaking and whimpering. Sirius had thought he was being overdramatic - the man had been crushed by accident, it’s not as though Peter meant to do it… but James had comforted him. Sirius wonders now whether it had all been an act. Or maybe that first accidental kill was the one that gave him a taste for it. 

He wasn’t particularly squeaky about blowing up that street, anyway. All the smoke. The Muggles. That sickening, metallic scent of blood in the air. Peter hadn’t spared much thought about killing twelve innocent people, had he?

Never mind the thoughts he hadn't spared for James and Lily.

For all that he’d secretly wished for his chance to do it, Sirius knows now: killing is ugly. It’s final, it’s dirty, and it rankles the soul. 

He’s sure that if he’d managed it, it would be all the Dementors would leave him to dwell on. He should be grateful he hadn’t. Still, though. As he sits in the cell that will be his coffin, imprisoned as the worst murderer in wizarding history… the irony isn’t lost on him. 

The worst murderer, alright. 

It’s a joke so depressing even the Dementors can’t suck it away.

[endercasts]

[leemillion]

y’all ever just

kin Mark Heathcliff

[lover-of-mine]

No, but like, this is from this life we choose (minus Chim shots)

And this is from defend in place (minus Bobby shots)

This tunnel shot here, the one on the left, also from Defend in Place, he's also from the pilot (on the right) (and everywhere, he's a recurring character in my mind, I'm thinking about calling him Bob)

This is also from Defend in Place (on the left) and this is literally the first shot OF THE PILOT. THIS IS THE FIRST THING WE SAW ON THE SHOW (on the right)

And since I'm already here, have the overpass turn that's literally everywhere.

And this shot here? I lost track of how many times I've noticed it.

[blorbodiaz]

eddie 🤝 tk

the ‘you already have a kid’ look

[angeart]

if i wasn't so exhausted and also actually sick, i would write a drabble about scar and grian and this new session, because they're making me go insane and there's a lot of potential.

(i was supposed to work on the boatem circus today—)

also. ALSO. did no one talk about the ABSOLUTE ANGST of grian's first three sessions, or did y'all just do it in secret and behind my back? did i miss it? oR IS NOBODY TALKING ABOUT IT??? do i need to whip out my notes and RAMBLE?

(i feel like i missed my chance, because of the whiplash of grian angst so swiftly switching to scar angst at the start of this sesssion, but. yeah. i think. i think my point still stands.) (did no one talk about it or did i just miss it completely? pls?)

[bogkeep]

How would you describe your experience with being half Czech and half Norwegian? Really curious cus I never see alot of osmosis between nordic and slavic countries.

oh boy that's a really big question that's pretty difficult to answer! this is kind of a major part of my life and identity and not really possible to crystallize into a concise point, since it's just... my whole life :')

one part of this is just the experience of not fully belonging to one place and culture, of being caught inbetween, which is something a lot of people all over the world understand and relate to, i think. this might sound niche but i have a fondness for graphic novels about coming of age where the protagonist is is the child of immigrants and has to navigate their way through honoring their heritage and fitting in with the culture they live in at the same time. maybe this sounds dramatic for someone who belongs to two european countries that are only 2-3 days of driving apart, but that's my truth haha.

another part is the more specific differences between czechia and norway as countries and cultures with different language families, which is something i can talk about at length, for sure, but like... every place has its differences, even two towns in the same country. sometimes it's difficult to know what's a real difference between two places and what's just differing personal experiences.

some things:

- one of the most iconic christmas movie that plays in norway is Three Wishes for Cinderella, a czech made cinderella adaptation (tři oříšky pro popelku). the version that plays in norway has been dubbed over by the same voice, a method referred to as russian dubbing. this movie is so iconic and beloved they have done a remaster of it, making it crisper and more colorful, but they cannot make a better dub or the people of norway would revolt. for a while i had no idea this was such a big deal, because i would spend every christmas on czech, and for me, cinderella was just one of many fairytale movies. my grandfather would always tape the fairytale adaptations on VHS and would get me to watch them when i visited for the summer. it took me a while to get into any of them, since i vastly preferred cartoons over live action TV (i have many fond memories of czech cartoons. víla amálka, rumcajs, rákosníček, krteček, lots of classics), but i enjoyed a lot of them eventually. i think the first one i liked was one called Nebojsa, about a guy who feels no fear. my eventual favourites would become Král Sokolů (the king of falcons) and S Čerti Nejsou Žerty (give the devil his due) - the latter becoming a christmas movie For Me.

- a big difference between norway and czech, culturally, is politeness conventions. norway is very informal and introverted, more first name basis than last names - in fact, i don't know the last names of any teachers i had at school except for ones i've found on facebook. i used to spend a couple months every year of grades 1 - 5 in czechia, to go to school there and practice the language. not only was school more advanced and stricter, but i'm pretty sure i was supposed to refer to teachers as Mr or Ms Last Name and i did not know this. i apparently caused quite a ruckus in first grade, but i only have my family's word for it. i remember almost nothing of my time in czech first grade except crying on my first day because i was so overwhelmed. another thing i did not realise until i was a teen was that when talking to strangers or people Of Respect, you refer to them with a Plural You until you've reached enough familiarity to switch to Singular You. it's accepted for kids to refer to everyone with the singular - same vibe as referring to every familiar adult woman as your auntie - but i've made quite a fool of myself multiple times calling cashiers and waitresses by singular you when outside of the Acceptable Age Slot. if it sounds like an autism nightmare that's because it is :'D

- i think every person in europe has been to prague at some point. every person i tell i'm half czech to tells me they've been to prague. it's a pretty city though! check out the astronomical clock

- there is a small community of czech and slovakian immigrants in my norwegian hometown. obviously it's not Every Czech Person in town, i've run into a lot of czech speaking people at random every now and then, but yeah! i think the biggest community event that gets arranged every year is Mikuláš in december. it's very reminiscent of Krampus celebrations. essentially kids are expected to perform a song or poem in front of st. Nicholas, an angel and a devil (that's the krampus in this instance), and then they get evaluated and told if they've been Good or Bad this year before being given candy (with a piece of coal or potato in it because everyone is a Little naughty sometimes). after growing out of being one of the children, i've contributed by playing the devil or the angel a couple times each.

for some reason there's a lot of people from the czech community in the historical archery club my mom and i are both part of. we actually have a lot of immigrant members, so for something so viking aesthetically coded it ends up being a fairly multicultural experience!

[tinsil]

hyper maid drifter

[chronicwhorebatman]

running headcanon is that tim is the joker’s favourite robin because tim is the representation that maybe joker didn’t ruin everything