#it gets less ideal as you get older but you can still absolutely share a bedroom tf

[rodolfoparras]

The art of tardiness

Pairing: Unspecified Male Character x Male reader

cw: 18+, possessiveness, anal fingering, anal sex, top male reader, bottom male character, age gap, morning sex, writing on skin, feminization (hole referred to as cunt)

Synopsis: sometimes calling him yours just isn’t enough

There were times you were sure that your boyfriend was dating two different people.

One was the young man who’d swiftly tuck his tail between his legs at the smallest comment made about his relationship. That man could admit that he lacked experience compared to his much older partner, could admit he probably wasn’t his partner’s ideal type with his scrawny frame and short height, and he knew that even if his boyfriend were to look past those things, the people around them would never do it.

Then there was the rabid dog in the shape of a young man, that barks and bites at any potential threat, such as hostile comments made about his relationship. He’d look you straight in the eye and tell you not to make comments about a relationship you know nothing off, hell he’d get in a physical altercation if you provoked him enough.

And then of course there was the desire to bite the hand that feeds him, devour his person down to the bone so he wouldn’t have to share him with the world. He or rather you were pretty good at keeping this desire at bay but sometimes you just couldn’t contain it especially early in the mornings, when he looks like a sight to behold with his lazy smile bleary eyes, thin white sheet doing nothing to cover up his naked body.

You want to keep him in bed, mark him up, make him cum over and over again til all he can remember is the feeling of your cock

Unfortunately things aren’t that easy, especially when he has to get ready for work in half an hour, but stubborn as you are, you don’t let him go, dead set on marking him up as much as possible.

At first he’s too lost in bliss to notice what you’re doing, letting you suck and nip on the sensetive skin while desperately clinging onto your body, that is til you bite down hard enough to draw blood and the man jerks in place, wide eyed and suddenly too aware of what you’re doing.

“No marks” he says, even goes as far as to scruff your neck, as if you’re nothing but a disobedient dog to him “I have work, remember?”

“Please?” and you know that you must sound rather pathetic but honestly you couldn’t care less, especially not when you notice that a couple of marks have already started to bloom on his skin.

“So goddamn possessive what am I gonna do with you huh?” He says, while keeping a vice like grip on your neck “Should I let you write your damn name on my forehead? Would that make you happy hm?” He says gaze much softer as his thumb strokes your neck.

Even though he hadn’t intend to do so, his words gave you an idea and you immediately find yourself reaching for the night stand, hand blindly rummaging through the drawer.

“And what do you think you’re doing?” He says, brow raised but it doesn’t take long before realization strikes him “Absolutely not,”

You turn to the other man , practically giving puppy eyes. This time you do feel a tad bit of embarrassment but not enough to give up on this battle.

“I can’t go out like that,”

“You won’t,” you immediately say “I’ll do it somewhere you can cover it,”

“Jesus Christ kid,” he sighs out and pinches his brows but despite his words you know that his resolve has crumbled.

You’re quick to grab the first best pen before straddling his waist, the late night escapade having left him in nothing but a thin white sheet covering the most sensitive part of him but you can still feel you cock head rubbing upon the cleft of his ass as you settle down.

“Cheeky bastard” he breathes out, fully aware of where your mind’s gone to.

You only hush him response, muttering how you have to be focused before you attempt to put the marker to his arm.

But before you can do that he grabs ahold of your egg wrist, a firm look painted on his face “promise me it’ll wash off,”

“Promise,” you say with a shit eating grin on your face.

And as you proceed to put the marker to his skin, you realize that you’re at loss of ideas on what you could write on him. It’s like you wanted to do so much when the idea first struck your head but sitting here you almost feel overwhelmed by all the options that you have.

You play it safe at first, writing out your name just below his pec, a move that has the man squirming beneath you.

“Tickles,”

“Sorry,” you say, not an ounce of sincerity in your tone as you draw another scribble on his forearm. It’s you and him- well it’s supposed to be but your artistic skills only allow you to draw two stick figures holding hands.

For a moment there are no words exchanged as you continue draw on his skin. You do a couple of doodles here and there, some ridiculous other more scandalous. You even write some words on his skin- some being your name others being lewd quotes, everything done within range where he’d be able to hide it beneath his clothes.

“This enough for you kid?” He says, when the majority of his chest is covered in little scribbles.

He probably didn’t mean anything by those words. But the ugly monster residing inside couldn’t help but take this as a challenge especially when he says that as he lays naked in your shared bed, soft smile on his face, the scribbles of your name clearly showing under the rays of sunlight protruding through the bedroom window.

Instead of responding to him you grab ahold of his wrist, black marker writing out the letter M on his skin, bold and big, just within the range of where he can pull on a shirt if he wishes to hide the word. The letters I N E are soon added in place, big bold and curling around his underarm.

The word mine now lays written on his forearm.

But you don’t stop there, eyes flicking over to his furry stomach that looks awfully bare before you take a marker to it and start writing your initials all over it. This time around the skin isn’t as forgiving, straight lines turning jagged from coarse hair and faded scar. Not that you mind and neither does the little monster residing inside.

You continue writing on him, covering as much skin as he allows but truth be told you don’t know how his clothes will be able to cover up some scribbles, not that you plan on telling him that right now.

And he doesn’t seem to care that much as his gaze carefully follows your movements, breathing growing heavier and heavier with each second that passes.

At some point you feel the need to get closer to him even though you’re practically sitting ontop of him, swiftly shuffling around til you’re slotted between his thighs, carefully drawing a line from the crevice of his knee down to the groove of his left thigh.

He continues to watch you with attentive eyes, as you add a triangle to the end of line, the marker reaching dangerously to where his balls lay hanging between his thighs and from where you sit you can smell his musk hitting your nostrils, can feel his thighs clench beneath your fingertips , can now see the way the black arrow is humorously pointing straight to the furley ring of muscles.

It’s impossible not to reach out to the spot between his legs, a curious finger swiping over his sensitive skin and pulling a gasp out of him“Hah!”

Your eyes flicker up, cock twitching at the sight of the man who already looks so wrecked before looking back to the marker in your hand, moving it back and forth til the line on his thigh grows in size, doing anything just to busy your mind because you’re supposed to draw on him not fuck him, remember that?

But it’s not long before your attention is back onto his burning heat, a glob of spit landing onto the sensitive skin before your finger circles his now wet rim.

“What are you-“

He doesn’t get to finish his sentence before you slip the tip of your finger inside, watching the way he jerks in surprise, the sudden movement jacking up the straight marker line, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“Jesus Christ kid,” he breathes, voice dripping with both arousal and amusement as you continue to sink your finger inside of him.

“This alright?” You ask, and push til you’re knuckles deep before giving an experimental curl of your finger.

Another gasp escapes his mouth, hips bucking up into your touch “ hah -now you ask?” He says, but despite his words the man nods at your question.

That’s all it takes for you to work a second finger inside, this time coaxing a hiss out of him,“easy there kid going to break me,”

You can’t help but chuckle at that”Think you’re giving me too much credit pretty,” you say but decide to move your fingers at a much slower pace, watching the way his body once again relax onto the sheets as contented hums escape his lips.

You continue curling your fingers inside while drawing onto the man; circling birth marks and scars you find pretty, drawing arrows across every inch of skin while watching the way he twists and turns in the sheets with every brush of your fingertips “so fucking pretty like this drives me crazy “

At some point you stop drawing on his skin, turning all your focus to the fingers buried inside him.

You don’t even notice the way tears have started to gather at his eyes, nor the begs and please continuously escaping his mouth, too entranced with the sight of his hungry hole practically swallowing up your hand.

It’s only when he grabs ahold of your wrist that you snap back into the present moment, now noticing how you’ve left the pen to bled out on the white sheets, and how the ink on his skin has already started to smear.

The gruesome monster inside tells you that you need to find another way to mark the man.

Within moments you’re grabbing ahold of his legs, pushing his knees up to his chest til his cunt is on full display, not wasting another second to line your cockhead up with his entrance before pushing inside him.

“Ah fuck! Insatiable dog,” he barks out, not having expected you to do that but that doesn’t stop him from practically clamping onto you as you bottom out: heels digging into your ass and nails digging into your back as you start driving up into his hungry cunt.”mpf fuck just like that keep going kid“

Who’s insatiable now? You think to yourself, a strangled chuckle escaping your lips as you continue to thrust into his tight wet heat.

It doesn’t take long before you’re setting a steady pace, thrusting so erratically he’s practically choking up on the moans that are trying to escape his lips, bed frame frantically rocking against the wall every thrust of your hips.

“Ah! Fuck! Going to - hah going to kill me,” he says through choked sobs, hands madly clawing at your back as if he’s losing his footing on this world.

And as you look down at the beautiful mess he makes, you can’t help but notice the shadow of a bulge showing on his stomach, right below the spot where your initials lay.

Once again you feel the zealous monster within you take the steering wheel, hand pushing his legs past his ears, before drilling into him.

“Say it “ you grunt out, hands keeping a vice like grip on his thighs, pushing his legs so far back you’re sure you’ll split him in half if you keep it up “Come on come on say you’re mine”

At first he’s at a loss for words, barely even able to catch his breath with the way you’re erratically thrusting into him but eventually he manages to respond to you.

“Yours yours all yours fucking fuck I’m cum-“ he splutters out, hole erratically clenching down onto your cock before he cums in hot thick white streaks, across both his and yours abondmen “‘m sorry ‘m sorry” he slurs out, while he continues to shamelessly fuck himself back onto your cock.

Something about that sight is enough to triggering your own orgasm

“Fuck!” You cry out, eyes squeezing shut before youre hit with hot blinding pleasure.

The world around you blurs out, ears ringing loud as you continue to ride out your high before you eventually slump down beside the man.

“Jesus Christ,” you say, ears still ringing loud, world barely coming into focus. “That was-“ you begin but trail off once you can’t seem to find the right word for it.

A laugh rumbles through the older man’s chest, his big hand cradling the back of your neck before he says “got that right kid,”

You look up at him only to be left speechless at the sight.

See people always said that a relationship with someone so much younger than him would ruin him. You’d hear it over and over again while eavesdropping on whatever conversation he was having about this “sudden” relationship.

You never really understood what they meant until you saw him sprawled out on your bed, gaping hole stuffed full with your cum, and every inch of his skin covered in your initials.

At least they knew he was yours to ruin.

Yours

Yours.

Yours.

That little insatiable monster that can't seem to find rest rises to life again, coaxes you to slot your lips against the older man’s, tongue slipping into his mouth and licking along every nook and crevice, leaving the taste of you behind for anyone that would dare kiss him.

It takes one more kiss before he prys himself away from you, and walks over to the bathroom on shaky steps, the sight of his inked ass is the last thing you see before the door closes behind him.

You slump back into bed with a smile on your face, the taste of him still lingers on your lips, the previous string of events practically burned into your iris and for a second it all feels like a dream that is before you hear your name being shouted behind the bathroom door followed by a string of angry words “why won’t this shit wash off,”

Oh well…

[thefourthwifeoftengenuzui]

some headcanons about dating timeskip!Kenma please!!

thank you Anon, I would absolutely love to share some stuff about this beautiful boy~ As always, feel free to send any other requests you got, I’ll be more than happy to share my thoughts~

status: unedited

word count: 1.4k (damn that’s the most I’ve written in a hot minute)

warnings: cursing, pure fluff, mentions of weed, crackfick a little suggestive? Idk man I’m sleepy

wrote this instead of studying for my physics final exam😋

🩵Aged Up Kenma Headcannons🩵~

Ok first off we gotta get the basic facts down. This boy may be sweet as sugar, but he’s also one lazy mother fucker. And For the most part, I’d say that he really doesn’t change much from when he was a kid. The most I can say about him, is he definitely is a lot more confident being in front of people, ( I mean that’s kinda his job now, but bear with me) and has become less awkward around people. Very different from when he first met Hinata, he can actually hold a good and relaxed conversation now. That’s not to say he isn’t introverted anymore, (he definitely still would rather be at home) but he is more confident in himself to be able to actually be able to engage with someone. Is he gonna go out of his way to talk to someone? Hell no, but he can at least handle being approached without overthinking and triggering his anxiety.

This definitely also translates to his relationship with you. You still will have be the one who makes the first move, or at least initiating conversations.

But one things for sure, once he likes you, he loves you. Like wanting to wife you up regardless of gender. And I feel like, (later on in the relationship ofc) if you ever had kids, he would be the best most present dad ever. Like he wouldn’t be a house husband, (his YouTube gig is completely paying for your mortgage) but because the majority of what he does has him, stream for like an hour, go on call for a few minutes, or just edit his videos for a bit, he would be able to make a lot of time for any and all children he has. But that’s way later on in the relationship.

Once he’s comfortable in the relationship with you, I can definitely see him involving you in his content. Not like a whole boyfriend and girlfriend couples channel, but like a once a year “reacting to fucked up shit with my girl” type beat.

And since we’re on the subject of content, <<<<<<<<

Like imagine having the most shitty day possible and you come home to your boyfriend streaming COD or some shit. You just face-plant into the bed next to him and he snaps his head towards you.

”shit baby you good?” he asks as he raises an eyebrow, looking at you concerned as you mumble angrily. He recognizes the nonverbal gestures and just pats his lap with a quick, “c’mere baby,” and hugs you, letting you muzzle your face into his neck away from the camera, and wrapping a fluffy blanket around you, before he kisses you head and say, “gimme ten more minutes to finish this and we’ll order some takeout k?”. He gives you the most sincere and adorable smile ever sending butterflies not only to you, but all his fans watching, as he smiles and goes back to playing like nothing happened, the chat going wilddddddd. (My gay ass heart go brrrrrr)

I know for a fact that somewhere out there in haikyuu internet, there is a corny ass edit of y’all doing that shit, trust. (I need to keep my slang outta here man 😭)

ok, getting off the sidetrack, kenma is still like rlly introverted. Like his ideal date is just sitting at home watching some cheesy studio ghibi movie (His favorite is the boy and the heron, fight me on that, it’s the hill I’m willing to die on.)

If not some cute Disney movie, I also feel like he’d be into like some mystery or like not quite horoscope stuff. Like I feel like he would really be into Wednesday. If he had to watch an actual horror movie, I feel like I’d be like some of the older ones like scream or Nightmare on elm street type shit.

Speaking of scream, I feel like at least once yall would have to do the ghostface couples costume thing. Like I feel like this would just suit him so well. Idk my brains just going feral on it right now. (This was supposed to have a link attached, but it kept fuckin up and I’m to lazy to deal with it so just look it up, the couples version, it’s hot af)

aside from the specific stuff that I know people hate reading, the next thing you gotta know about this version of kenma is he is a TEASE. Like not even like an NSFW type tease. Just like a “he’s an ass but I love him.” Like when he was younger I feel like he was too nervous and flustered to point that kinda stuff out. But now? Man is a menace and a half. The type of dude to be like, “I have no idea how your ass fits in those shorts. Oh no, you’re not taken them off now~” or like the most basic annoying shit like bro fuck off and let me cuddle you in peace without being annoying. Like, he’d be like, “ damn someone’s neady today~ you tryna fuck me in front of everyone?” Like bro stfu I’m just tryna cuddle. Either that or he’d call you clingy for returning the affection he initiated. Like bro, quit being a lil bitch and let me be happy you butt muffin.

Man is putting full pussy into annoying you. He’s the type of guy to call you the most vile, disgusting, cringe ass nicknames, specifically to piss you off. You need him to take out the trash? “Yes my Pookie Wookie McSmoo Moo bear~” *gags while writing this* You’re yelling at him for some stupid thing, “I sorry my sugar booger~.”

Yeah this part is real OOC, and I was gonna write more but I physically cannot bring myself to do it so anyway, his other 3 favorite things to annoy you by calling you is, Cutesie Poopsie, Shnookums, and side piece #2. (Bro I just gave myself the ick)

Beige flags aside, he does have some green ones . For example, he’s a fabulous listener. Like, you just wanna rant and yell about your day? C’mere babes, he already got fluffy blankets, stuffies, and fluffy socks at the ready. You just wanna cry in piece? Looks like his lap has a vacant spot, he can play games and scratch your head at the same time. #bbgtreatment (regardless of gender. If tumblr has taught me anything it’s that nobody is to thug to be bbg, can I get an amen?🙏 )

The more comfortable he is with you, the more he will make jokes, but in the most monotone voice ever. Like you could be ranting to your bestie on the phone like, “I forgot my umbrella at work… yeah I’m soaked,” and you just hear him from his corner calmly shouting “that’s what she said,” not even turning away from his game, as if it was natural to him. It’s always so easy to talk with him, unless it’s about his problems, but we ain’t gon talk about that rn, I’m feeling too fluffy.

There is one thing that I absolutely have to address for this man though. The average female height in my country is 5’4. And Kenma is only 5’6. Chances are, he’s not gonna be towering over you or nothing. Especially if you a tall specimen like me. (AFAB but gender is a construct yolo on those hoes). So chances are, this mf is for a fact, stealing your clothes. No article of clothing is safe. Hoodie? Sorry boo he got cold streaming. T-shirt? None of his were clean. Miniskirt? Onlyfans- He was pulling a Gojo sorry 😋

Tbh I don’t see him ever really having a wedding, or really ever getting married. Too much social interaction and attention on him. Gross. The most I can see him doing is, one night while y’all smoking pot or something, being like “yo wanna get married?” He wants to be with you forever without the government getting involved, but hey, times are tough, and marriage helps with tax returns. So y’all just kinda go to the courthouse, get it done, then fly off to some place to elope.

in all Kenma is just a great loyal guy, who is the biggest pain in your ass, but the biggest cutie patootie this side of the nuthouse.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ hope y’all enjoyed, this was so fun to write, if you liked this and want more content like this make sure to request and check out my other stuff. Love y’all bastards, Thots and Enby Hots🩵

[wings-of-ink]

If you're still looking for thoughts on Patreon: I haven't subscribed to many Patreons before, but so far it's been for extras + early access. Unfortunately I don't have enough money to subscribe to everyone I want to or for long periods of time, so I normally dip in for 1 or 2 months when something is released, cancel my subscription, and resubscribe at a later date.

It seems like people are willing to pay more for RO content (like side stories & RO POVs), nsfw content, + early access. So those might be ideal to place at higher tiers? I've also seen some creators do tiered early access. Like the highest tier will get the demo update 1 month early, then the next tier 3 weeks early, etc. with the lowest 1 week before it's released to the public. That might make the higher tiers worth it over the lower tiers, instead of giving them all the same amount of early access.

One concern is that some creators get burnout from having to create all the extra content for Patreon. I think a lot of people underestimate how much time & effort it takes and it may not be worth the payoff (depending on how successful the patreon is). I'd also be concerned that with Patreon extra content + multiple new WIPs there won't be much time left for the main game and it's likely progress will slow down. I've seen this happen many times before, even without Patreon it seems like most creators who have multiple WIPs don't end up finishing any of them.

Absolutely, thank you for sharing your thoughts with me, I appreciate that a lot.

The feedback I've had has given me some ideas on how to streamline what I would do. When I've done Patreon for others, I've rotated support between the projects that resonate with me the most as well. There's so many to pick from, I can't blame anyone for popping in once every so often instead of staying subbed. If you have the ability to afford it, more power to you, but most of us just don't.

Those key benefits are really what I'm wanting to focus on. I do like the idea of a tiered early-access too especially for peeps who just want that.

Patreon burnout is something I want to work hard to avoid; I've seen other creators struggle and stop enjoying their arts too. I want to do this in a way that I can produce things for you to enjoy in a way that is still enjoyable for me too. This is my passion and I don't want to turn it into "work."

I have the benefit of probably being less busy than most others who do this, at least as far as I can tell. I'm married with no children and no plans for any either. I'm older, out of college and settled in the drudges of a career. I've been at my job long enough I could do it in my sleep and it doesn't cause me a ton of stress at this point. When I work on the IF or on Tumblr, it's because I want to and it drives me - it's a form of entertainment for me as well. I'd rather do this than watch TV or scroll mindlessly. Even before I started the IF, I'd get comfy and just write something all evening, lol.

I do also have a tendency to take too much on because I get excited, so I'm using the info I've gathered to help me roll things back and keep myself realistic. So, I've determined that anything I do will be reserved to just a few tiers. We can always grow bigger later. I still do plan to rotate up to 3 projects. The second is to keep me from burnout on GC, and the 3rd is simply an outlet for me that I think others will find entertaining as well.

I have some solid time available coming up in October for me to hammer things out more definitely, so I'll be posting more around then about it. ^_^

Thanks again, my dear!

[allthelittlecreepycrawlies]

Day 5 - high fashion

Designer student Huaisang is always inspired to the point of sleepless nights by his (also never sleeping?) roommate Meng Yao; by the sheer color range he can pull off and how it seems like he morphs into whatever he's wearing, the perfect dress doll. Sadly Meng Yao doesn't like to dress above station and also grows resentful/distant if forced to, so Huaisang needs to find another way to actually make him (want to) wear his creations.

This isn't quite what you asked for, but I got hit hard with an idea for H/C and couldn't get rid of it.

------------ For the first time in his life, Nie Huaisang was legitimately the top of his classes.

Most of them, anyway. He was barely pulling a passing grade in the required maths and sciences he had to deal with for his first year and a half despite his major, just as he always had.

But in studios, in design history lectures, in things he actually cared about? He was absolutely acing.

The instructors loved his insights, how well he paid attention to the shapes of the hired models, his way of combining old and modern fashion into something both functional and fantastic.

If anyone ever noticed that all of his preliminary sketches, before he started making alterations to each model he'd been assigned, resembled one person in particular? They were smart enough not to mention it. After all, it was hardly unusual for the students to use their friend groups -possibly including their roommates or not- for inspiration, and those who'd actually seen Huaisang's roommate agreed he was an ideal model.

Some of his classmates had even asked to borrow Meng Yao early in the first semester, only to quickly learn that was a bad idea.

The older students and the instructors had just laughed when they complained about it. Everyone had at least one model they guarded jealously, it was no big deal.

Except, to Huaisang, it was.

Because he knew what none of the other students did. The thing that made sure he only ever used his roommate for sketches, and never as the final model.

The door to their shared mini-apartment slammed open, and he carefully pretended to be engrossed in his sketchbook and not watching over the top of the pages as Meng Yao swept into the living room, practically trailing a little black stormcloud over his head.

He carefully wasn't watching as Meng Yao flung his bag across the room with a growl and force that would have impressed Da-ge and the other gym trainers.

And he carefully wasn't watching as he scrunched his knees just a little more against his chest to let Meng Yao collapse onto the couch and bury his face into his hands.

Then Nie Huaisang silently laid his sketchbook onto their makeshift coffee table and squirmed around until Meng Yao had to sit up straight to let him into his lap, and began undoing his roommate's visibly-too-starched shirt collar. "Hey."

Meng Yao huffed, but already looked visibly less stressed as Huaisang pushed his shirt open a little and began kneading at the tension he still carried in his neck. "Hey."

"I already put in a delivery order at that grill place you like, and there's cake and milk tea in the fridge."

Meng Yao sighed, dropping his head forward to rest on Nie Huaisang's shoulder. "That wasn't necessary."

"Sure, it was. C'mon," Nie Huaisang said, getting to his feet. "Let's go throw those clothes in the back of your closet until next month."

That got a snort. They both knew Meng Yao was too meticulous to let his current outfit get musty and wrinkled, no matter how much he hated wearing it. But he let Huaisang take his hands and pull him up and gently push him towards his room to change into something more comfortable.

It had practically become a ritual at this point, this breakdown and rebuilding.

The steps were always the same.

So was the clothing.

And until Meng Yao no longer had to dress up to formally present himself to his horrible father for these monthly 'So why shouldn't I claw back all the child support payments I had to make for you?' meetings, Nie Huaisang would never ask his roommate to present himself for anything remotely like that for him.

[wild-at-mind]

I don't want to be shitty to younger people on tumblr and in social justice spaces (teens and early 20s) and their absolutism and black and white thinking because I totally was like that too. I absolutely loved that thing where someone said something bad about a tumblr user and then you could act like everything they said was suspect forever. It was so convenient, to put things neatly into boxes. Social justice on here was very different back then, this would have been the early 2010s and a lot of it was about cultural appropriation vs appreciation. I think that is a very important conversation but this too was very black and white. I noticed that the only person injecting any nuance was an activist in her 40s I used to follow. Through her I learned also that some topics are really loaded for certain people but others might not feel the same because of different life experiences, even if they were the same ethnic group encountering the same type of potential appropriation. She got me primed for nuance I would later need, when my brain flat out stopped letting me deal with black and white thinking after my breakdown in 2015 and the fallout going up till 2017 and beyond. It's only now that I am really getting better. With occassional lapses. (Like when people on here were lauding protest suicide, that messed with my brain so much. Activists like the one I used to follow who don't like that kind of thinking, or the bloodthirstiness of a lot of the 'activism' shit on here, leave tumblr. They do, because it is shit here. You can get attacked for opposing the violence and self flaggelation in the rhetoric on here. By people you broadly agree with!!)

I think the reason youth tends to come with this kind of thinking is because they haven't seen it happen many times before and not lead to revolution. I can only assume that there really are people using social media to make young people interested in activism think that accelerationism is the only pure policy- by not doing things that might make things slightly better, society will be forced to fall and revolutionise into something much better. That means you don't become impure in the eyes of some internet strangers who don't give a fuck about you as a person, which is important to most people especially younger ones who haven't found their 'people' yet- everyone wants to be accepted. So you wait, years and years, the revolution doesn't happen. Things get worse in many ways, but it's never worse enough for society to fall. Because it won't. Or I guess probability means statistically, it could. But the older you get, the less likely it seems. What will you do?

I think the only thing that helped me out of this headspace was meeting people in real life who believed the same things as me, but who I disagreed with slightly. I found out oh wait, I do not have to do as the internet says and cast these people out. I can slightly disagree on how ideally an issue should be handled and that is ok. Now, many years later, I'm reclaiming my right to think the way I do, and to not trick myself into thinking I am a way I am not. The way my brain works may not be how my friend's brain works, but I can trust she won't reject me because I find JK Rowling's opinions offensive but don't find content dunking on her interesting in any way. Because she's my friend, and at the end of the day we share the same values.

To someone not online I don't think this stuff would make sense at all. Sadly I'm too weak to not be online, and I have this long background of being in that space which influences all the pushback with myself I've had to do. Its hard to get rid of that history, and hard to ignore the posting on here that seems to validate things that people living with OCD cannot put stock in (e.g. your feelings and thoughts are objectively real and also show what kind of person you really are- absolutely not something we can accept and still live with ourselves.) But I have to do it. I have to keep living. I have to believe that would be a net good. If I can't stay offline, maybe by writing this stuff it will help me and others who think like me.

My top tips for when you realise society isn't falling and won't just reset and come back better:

Join IRL activists, support their actions, plan actions with them. Get used to the variety of shapes activism takes. Talk with them about the things you disagree with. Your ability to ally with people you slightly disagree with but agree on most issues is the number 1 way you become set apart from internet-based activism.

Be suspicious of anyone promoting inaction as activism. (Yes that's about the not voting people.) You don't become impure if you vote for the candidate who is the least shit, or has the most chance of getting in and making things less shit. That's OCD thinking that for some reason has become mainstream on tumblr among non-sufferers and sufferers alike.

Posting on tumblr doesn't matter. I have seen people who convinced themselves it did go down conspiracy rabbit holes very easily. (You know- 'they are trying to silence us because of the importance of our posting!' and then it spirals from there)

People trying to guilt and shame you into doing certain things, such as rejecting your long-term mental health, or tell you that if you feel like shit all the time it's a good thing somehow- stay away from that thinking like its infectious. The most effective activism comes from people who are in an ok place mentally so they can plan and work together, not people who feel like them feeling ok is bad or offensive somehow and are making snap decisions based on this. You feeling bad doesn't help anyone.

[parmahamlarrie]

can you give me a list of established relationship

This is my dream ask, tbh. According to my notes, it's over 30% of what I read. Listed some of my favorites below (excluded A/B/O, girl direction, anything too heavily kinky, and anything under 5k so if you'd like a list of those, let me know).

dusted in gold Series || frenchkiss || 100k Model Harry, Make Up Artist Louis Harry’s an A-list supermodel, Louis’s his make-up artist boyfriend. They’re something of a dream team.

Down to our bare feet || frenchkiss || 71.5k Disabled Louis, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Angst Breaking his neck and becoming wheelchair-bound for the rest of his life was never part of Louis Tomlinson's long term plan. No, he was going to make it big in his career, marry the man of his dreams, and live his best life each and every day. That is, until a football injury leaves him paralysed from the neck down, which is less than ideal, he must admit. The story of an ordinary couple living through extraordinary circumstances, featuring wheelchairs, home renovations, intensive rehab, fighting, laughter, tears, ring shopping, and above all, two boys determined to love each other no matter what.

Why Am I Doing This Again? || @berzerkshires || 31.3k Famous/Non Famous, Interview Format, Older H&L AU: It's been 37 years since Louis Tomlinson met the famous Harry Styles. In 2056, Harry has officially announced his retirement with one last request from his management team: a three part documentary. The crew comes to Louis & Harry's house to film an interview with Louis about Harry and their relationship. And Louis still doesn't understand why he's a part of it.

secrets don't make friends || @thedevilinmybrain || 30.2k College AU, 5 Times, Fluff and Smut What an absolute rollercoaster of a fic. I started this fest thinking I was going to write something else, then I panicked, and I wrote this instead. I hope it's as good as my original prompt.  Firstly, thank you so much to Aria. This is my love letter to you. My smutty, kinky, love letter of our friendship. To the one brain we share by some cosmic connection. You always support my deep dive into how dirty can I make this and get away with it and give me the best feedback. I could not have done any of this without you.  And Hannah, babe, you literally are an angel. Always coming in to save my fucking life by agreeing to beta 30k in one night! When we both were exhausted and you did such an great job. Especially because I can't spell for shit. Thanks you, baby. I appreciate you so much. Also, thank you Greta for coming up with this brilliant fest! So glad I could help out and co-mod with you. It was such a success.

Were We Ever This Young? || @letsjustsee || 17.2 Harry Potter AU, Baker Harry, Auror Louis, Flashbacks “How did it go?” he asked, still not having gotten any hints from Louis’ face.“Obviously it went amazing, Harold,” Louis said, reaching for Harry’s hand, “Was there any doubt I would smash it?”Immediately after finishing his sentence a young girl burst out of the classroom behind Louis, pushing through her peers, sobbing her eyes out. Harry and Louis both took her in, watching as she rushed through the crowd and disappeared behind the many bodies. Harry looked at Louis in confusion, about to voice his concerns before Louis cut him off.“Teenagers, am I right?” Louis said casually, “So bloody sensitive. You hungry? Let’s go.”And with that, he pulled Harry through the groups of students by his hand, Harry too shocked to utter a word.  Hogwarts AU in which Harry and Louis both return to give talks to seventh years about the 'real world' with slightly varying results. Inspired by the Chilton scene between Rory and Paris in the new Gilmore Girls.

Fugue || @canonlarry || 16.4k Amnesia, Kidfic, Famous/Non Famous, Happy Ending Harry falls asleep a 17 year-old who lives in Cheshire and is probably rockstar Louis Tomlinson's biggest fan. He wakes up 24 with a wedding ring on his finger, two kids, and Louis Tomlinson attempting to wake him up with a blow job. The doctor calls it organic retrograde amnesia, says he might never get back the last seven years of his life. The only thing that feels the same is how he feels when Louis touches him, and maybe that's enough to make him fall in love all over again.

think I'll take my chances || trackfive || 12.9k College AU, Sick Fic, Hurt/Comfort harry worries louis, louis worries harry, they both worry zayn...there's far too much worry. taking care of each other doesn't have to be a one-way street (h/c with extra hurt...and extra comfort...and extra fluff)

Feel My Love || @styleandsin || 10.4k Baker Harry, Fluff and Smut, Domesticity Reason #29: To avoid cleaning, studying, or doing work of any kind. Louis always gets things done on time, he just takes a detour along the way. The detour? Having sex with Harry. Harry never brings it up. Until he does.

Every night, I've got you in my arms ||

Shut It Down When the Time Comes || kikikryslee || 9.4k Kidfic, Teacher Louis, Architect Harry This is it, Louis thought to himself. Finally. And then a loud wail rang through their apartment. Louis stared up at Harry, who had the lube bottle in his hand, ready to pour. “What if I’m quick?” Harry asked desperately. Louis rolled his eyes as the baby’s crying only got louder. --- Or, the five times new parents Harry and Louis try to have sex, and the one time they actually do.

Hea(van) Is A Place on Earth || @insightfulinsomniac || 6.1k College AU, Car Sex, Fluff and Smut Harry turns back to him, cheeks pink and biting his lip. “There’s lots of space.” “You want us to defile Belinda?” Louis asks in sheer disbelief. “I’m kind of desperate,” he admits, eyes shining in the fluorescent glow of the campus street lamps. “And besides… Belinda doesn’t mind.” *** University students Harry and Louis want to spend some alone time together — the problem is, both of their respective roommates are fast asleep. Harry solves that problem with some blankets, a secluded parking space, and his beloved beater van, Belinda.

Gotta Have You || @styleandsin || 6k Kidfic, Valentine's Day “I’m glad I married someone that’s still down with having sex in the laundry room while our kid is in the middle of a movie and there’s ten minutes left until the dinosaur chicken nuggets have to come out of the oven,” Louis says, voice serious but a small smile on his face. “Me too,” Harry says with a laugh before getting back to his food. Louis laughs along with him until he looks down at Harry’s plate, “are you really using a fork and knife for chicken nuggets?” Harry looks up at him and the genuine judgement on his face makes him giggle. “I’m trying to be fancy! We were supposed to be going to a really nice restaurant Lou, I’m just trying to recreate the experience.” He then dips the chicken nugget into his ketchup with his fork. Or, an AU where Valentine’s Day doesn’t go according to plan but possibly turns out even more romantic

NC-17 || kikikryslee || 5.5k Public Sex, Fluff and Smut Louis took the tip of Harry’s cock between his lips and just let his tongue lap over it for a minute. He wanted to watch Harry crumble as best as he could thanks to the dark lighting in the theater. As Louis moved down another inch, Harry’s eyelids fluttered some more. Louis smiled around Harry’s cock, watching as Harry now struggled to not only keep his eyes open, but also focused on anything but the boy in his lap, not wanting to draw attention if anyone were to turn around at this moment. --- Or, the one where Louis drags Harry to a horror movie festival even though Harry is afraid of scary movies, so Louis decides to give Harry something else to focus on instead.

Battle of the Balls || @greenblueish || 5k Famous/Famous, YouTube AU, Secret Relationship “Rim of the hole, Haz, really?” he gazes at the camera again. “This is getting demonetised and honestly, rightfully so. How are we still allowed to make videos? YouTube, why don’t you just do yourself the favour and delete our channels?” “After everyone sees that I win this game though,” Harry winks, dimples still showing.  or, the one where YouTubers Harry and Louis play Golf With Friends, go to the pub with Niall and return home six hours after posting the video.

Looking for something specific? Shoot me a message!

Find my previous lists here!

[theverumproject]

An Interview with Luce Balton (Verum)

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6]

Year: 2093 (The Robotic Era)

Friends and Family + Childhood

Friends and Family

Is their family big or small? Who does it consist of?

The family I grew up with is mostly dead. Not everybody wants to live forever. But it wasn't really a big or small one. Had a mother a father and a brother. Some grandparents and some aunties and uncles. Only my brother is left, we're still close. Now, Dethra and Bluctro are my family.

What is their perception of family?

There's the family that you are born in. And there's also the family that you can choose. 

Do they have siblings? Older or younger?

Adam is my older brother. He's the one who taught me about Quantum physics.

Describe their best friend.

My best friends are Dethra and Bluctro. 

Bluctro is protective, trying to keep me and Dethra safe from afar. He's the more serious of the two and provides great advice. He's always very gentle and loving… and romantic… Sometimes we dance together…slowly.

Dethra is the chaotic one. He is always joking or messing around. He is great in combat, so intimidating and strong. He is a little dirty minded, but very charming. He definitely knows how to seduce! But he's also a gentle giant. he absolutely loves animals and children.

Ideal best friend?

I couldn't wish for anybody better.

Do they have any pets?

No we don't. We wouldn't wanna leave it alone for too long. 

Who are their natural allies?

Robots and AI usually always support us. We are fighting for them after all. 

Who are their surprising allies?

It does surprise us sometimes, when we do something not so nice, but some people still seem to agree! 

Childhood

What was your character like as a baby? 

Pretty sure I was just a normal baby. Sometimes I screamed, sometimes I didn't let my parents sleep, sometimes I shat in the diapers. 

As a child?

I was a very curious child. Loved science from the beginning. I think I never was much trouble either. I always did what my loving parents said. never had a rebellious phase either. Of course I would get mad at them sometimes, but that's normal and probably never lasted more than an hour. Before he went to university, I would spend a lot of time with Adam. Oh how I missed him.

Did they grow up rich or poor?

My family was rather rich, but not snobby. 

Did they grow up nurtured or neglected?

I had a great childhood! Couldn't have wished for a better family. But I didn't really have the possibilities to develop my social skills. 

What is the most offensive thing they ever said?

I would rather not say. Sometimes the internet gets very mad at things you did like a hundred years ago. 

What is their greatest achievement?

Running this company and the secret one.

What was their first kiss like?

It was on the day Bluctro stepped into his body for the first time. After I woke up, he told me to close my eyes. A few moments later I felt him pull me into his lap. I opened my eyes and we cuddled for a few moments and then he kissed me. It was the kind of kiss that I did not expect of him. He was… hungry. 

What is the worst thing they did to someone they loved?

Like any couple, we also had our fair share of fights. But they never lasted long, still regretted some things afterwards though. I don't wanna hurt them…

What are their ambitions?

I want to help the world. May it be with medicine, food production, helping the climate or… you know

What advice would they give their younger self?

Don't be afraid of the world. 

What smells remind them of their childhood?

The smell of the basement. I spent a lot of time there.

What was their childhood ambition?

Learn, learn, learn, learn and learn to become a scientist. 

What is their best childhood memory?

Helping my father out in the basement, interacting with the AIs, building more or less stupid robots with him.

What is their worst childhood memory?

When Adam had to leave, that made me very sad for a long while. I still saw him sometimes, but not every day anymore. 

Did they have an imaginary childhood friend?

Doesn't every child? Mine were usually robots. 

When was the last time they were crushed with disappointment?

On our missions, not everything goes always right. People on our side get killed too. We had such a case last month again. As their leader, I take the blame for their death.

What past act are they most proud of?

Improving others peoples lives, giving them a new chance to live much longer and healthier. I'd say Mechanicus, my company, is really the work of my life.

Has anyone ever saved their life?

Bluctro and Dethra have saved my life many times.

Strongest childhood memory?

The early days. When I knew nothing about computer science. And then a new world opened up to me. It all blew me away. 

Masterpost

[educating-bimbos]

I guess that just moves my question along to something like this: "What do you mean by promoting femininity?"

One of the reasons a lot of people talk about patriarchy as an idea is that it described pressures and punishments that coerce people into their assigned roles. Boys who express emotion, for example, or girls who pursue technical aptitudes, are punished for doing so and adapt - often through pain - to conform to respective ideals of masculinity and femininity. It's damned effective at encouraging people to adopt those roles, but it can be immensely damaging to those who don't effortlessly fit into them.

Even when we aren't directly punishing people, it still strikes me as perverse to try to tell people whom they should grow up to be, and I am having difficulty conceptualising "promoting femininity" as anything but.

You mentioned being open to "varieties of femininity", but what does or doesn't qualify? Where does variation stop and heresy start?

Okay so femininity to me is just like a set of social functions, rituals, behaviors, and attitudes associated with social categories expressed commonly by women and femme people. A bit self referential, but that is kind of a limit with language past a certain point.

As for your statements on patriarchy, I don't really have the breadth of vocabulary to really get into it beyond the following. I enjoy the idea of being a stay-at-home housewife and kind of a 1950s advertisement aesthetic, do with that information what you will. There are also just some beliefs I hold for myself and what I want out of a relationship or social group. My goal here is to make the broad argument that there is a healthy way of managing that lifestyle that isn't buying into a number of other tangentially related, but not ideal sociopolitical prescriptions and normative beliefs. The idea that you can keep the sundresses and single income household and ditch the racism and antisemitism prevalent in the 1950s.

I don't believe in punishing people or socially ostracizing them if they don't fit in. If you go through my post history you will see time and time again me making the point that gatekeeping and broad attacks against identity groups is really dangerous and inhumane. I am just not fully certain what you mean by that when directed at me.

I did cast a broad net in that regard, but let me try to break it down just a bit because this is already a long answer and I want to get back to talking about dnd with my friends. So with the above statement on what I envision when I think of femininity, I think a number of different social groups, identities, social presentations, and performative ideas that exist on tumblr and elsewhere fit in such a way as for me to think "wow that is really cool." Examples being cottagecore tradwives like myself who tend to identify with an idealized view of "old ways" femininity as described in the second point where we adopt some older ideas or fashion trends and do away with other, less ideal facsimiles associated with being "traditional" whatever that means. There are also women in the bimbo community who also kinda fall into the rabbit hole of "what is a bimbo" which I myself grapple with from time to time and I still don't have a satisfying answer. I think that being a bimbo is cool and it takes a lot of work to keep up on what looks good in fashion, makeup, and maintaining a good physique. There are also really cool feminist blogs I follow that, while I may not agree with them on everything, I think there is value in a multi-polar dialectic and I am honored to share a space with them. I also do enjoy the aesthetic of the "dyed hair feminist" because I know so many people who pull it off and look really good despite me choosing to stick with natural hair color. Though it is the butt of many lazy jokes, I think it has grown past it in a way and that is absolutely worthy of celebration. Finally, as a non-religious type of person I do think that the spiritualists I know are really cool and I could talk for a long time about how each of them incorporate their beliefs and culture into their life and how it expresses itself through their art, their music, or their clothing.

This is an exceptionally long post so I am going to leave it here. I do want to thank you for asking some tough questions, but for now I may just have to leave it here for brevity's sake.

[yaseenqazi]

Negative Ramifications of Cultural Press

Alexander Pope said "Only a little knowledge is a dangerous thing." it moves perfectly with the amateur application of social media especially in the 21st century. We get social media for granted and do whatever we would like which comes biting back later.

Social networking has brought about new options and paths for the world for connecting at large.Social Media Technology With social media, the world has turned into a smaller place. On one hand, it is a superb innovation, and a great deal can be done to higher our lifestyles. But when we consider it with tens and thousands of premature consumers it has become a significantly frightening place to call home in.

There's grounds why most parents or older siblings take to to keep the kiddies from social media grips these days. From being a system for connecting or reveal worldviews it has concentrated down to bring a system to improve and troll. That is unhappy given that we may do so much with social media, it is unhappy to observe minimal to stoop.

Nowadays children of ages 10 have the entry and reports on cultural grips; it could turn into around dependency and an escape to an illusion world. That dream world that we build behind the 15-inch laptop screen may be considered a frightening affair. The match versions with ideal bodies, incredible travel locations, and photo-perfect moments most often don't match with the lives we lead on a regular basis. That remove may want people to aspire for more which might maybe not be probable the truth is and can affect our intellectual health.

The drive for more supporters or loves has a dangerous impact on our intellectual health. You begin emotion anxious, a lack of identity, less rest producing insomnia, a negative human body picture could be a number of the significant issues that a social press abuser may, face. You get yourself as desired as the versions you see about you, you keep introducing filters and edit your images to check 'ideal, and your sense of home is lost. You intend to become some body you're not. You begin hating yourself for lacking the best human body, the right shape, etc and therefore forth.

Scientists across the planet have found that the "anxiety about lacking out" produced across all popular cultural bottles may substantially lower self-esteem and gasoline problems like panic and depression among individuals.

Cyberbullying can be seriously connected to the continuous have to show oneself greater compared to others on cultural media.

On a big range, not only teenagers but persons in these times get the cultural system too virtually and believe in plenty of fake information of hoax that is being circulated just for press purposes. People today are slipping for harmful traits which they see on social media or believe it is cool to be always a portion of. The trend to be an integral part of a social class is what's producing more harm than good.

You've to comprehend you being cultural has nothing regarding the number of buddies or supporters you have on cultural media. It could all be considered a farce, simply by viewing still another look having many supporters you can't be jealous and want that life. Don't allow social media be considered a drug that is therefore addictive that you can't stay without.

Most of these leads to spot threats that get place due to the sharing of too much particular information on the net unnecessarily. You can also view a rise in hate presentation and cultural disgust across social media reports that will be completely uncalled for. The absolute most disgusting issue that is coming up a great deal in the 21st century is cyberstalking. It may be too harmful and is even using lives. Immature application of cultural system has to prevent and end now.

After applying social media grips many individuals choose to keep themselves from it as there is no or really little solitude with the considerable utilization of cultural platforms. Or even treated sensibly your life becomes a window to the world. A topic of discussion.

We as some sort of absence clever users. We possibly get everything for granted, or we get points too literally. Having said this it generally does not signify social media is all that poor with only negatives. Needless to say, maybe not, there are lots of benefits of cultural media. It maintains people attached across large distances, let's people find our college friends and prodigal colleagues. If your motive is to keep join or reveal an view about living and other things but when cultural site is the supply of information or mental upliftment it is undoubtedly a bad idea.

[mell-eight]

It’s Friday!

11/4/22 Happy Friday everyone!  I had today off from work and it's been magical.  I slept in late, had a leisurely breakfast, and relaxed all morning reading a book interspersed with leaf peeping out my back door as the last of the trees have finally decided to accept autumn has arrived.  I also added another color to my current paint by numbers canvass, my COVID hobby which is thankfully making the walls of my house a lot less bare.  I'm currently attempting a canvass of chamomiles I'm planning to hang on a large blank wall in my kitchen.  I have two more colors to paint, and then I have to go back and touch up for all the numbers I missed and where I had trouble staying within the lines.  Lol Of course, I also managed to squeeze in some editing and writing!  My amazing editor and I have been figuring out the official blurb for Hunter, the second book in my Witch's Circle trilogy.  After a lot of back and forth the last few days we've settled on something that sounds amazing. I can't wait to share it with you. Speaking of Witch's Circle, NSP has decided on a tentative release date for Coven, book one!  Look for it on December 27th! (Keeping in mind all dates are subject to change, lol.)  I hope to have a cover and pre-order information to share for it really soon.  Hunter will likely be released sometime first quarter in 2023. And, yes, I have gotten some writing done!  I added almost 3k words to You Can't Sell a Dragon's Heart and reached the minimum word count I was aiming for in this story.   There is still a lot more to write before it's done, though, so I upped the expected word count on my Current Projects page. I've never written a fantasy/sci-fi crossover before so this book has been a bit of an experiment, but it's been a ton of fun and I think it's turning out great.  When You Can't Sell A Dragon's Heart is completed, there are a few directions I could go in next.  I really, really want to get some of my backlog of older works in progress completed, so ideally I would focus on those.  However, I have two new stories also percolating.  One is a paranormal story about a three-legged crow set in the real world where everyone has the power to turn into an animal.   The main character is mistaken for a regular crow and ostracized.   Tentative working title is Harbinger, but we'll see whether that still fits once the book is written.  The second is fantasy about some of the cases the guards in the city take on.  I'm hoping to have multiple main characters, which will make writing this a real challenge.  Working title is Vivary Tales, but I expect that to change.  Either way, I will have something fun to work on next! Of course, I can come up with titles for two books I haven't even written yet, but I am still drawing an absolute blank for Fire and Water. I thought about something punny about twins switching places, but quickly realized that wouldn't fit the tone of the book.  Then I was haunting a thesaurus to find synonyms that might work better and drew a blank.  This book is 100% ready to be submitted for consideration with NSP, and I can't until I come up with a title!  It's really frustrating. The cherry on the top of what has been a lovely Friday is the wonderful support The Oracle's Current has gotten since being released last week.  Everyone seems to be enjoying it, and knowing that makes me incredibly happy.  If you missed it, it should be available at most major retailers and at NSP.  I hope everyone else has had an equally amazing day! 

[dwellordream]

“...A lone woman could, if she spun in almost every spare minute of her day, on her own keep a small family clothed in minimum comfort (and we know they did that). Adding a second spinner – even if they were less efficient (like a young girl just learning the craft or an older woman who has lost some dexterity in her hands) could push the household further into the ‘comfort’ margin, and we have to imagine that most of that added textile production would be consumed by the family (because people like having nice clothes!).

At the same time, that rate of production is high enough that a household which found itself bereft of (male) farmers (for instance due to a draft or military mortality) might well be able to patch the temporary hole in the family finances by dropping its textile consumption down to that minimum and selling or trading away the excess, for which there seems to have always been demand. ...Consequently, the line between women spinning for their own household and women spinning for the market often must have been merely a function of the financial situation of the family and the balance of clothing requirements to spinners in the household unit (much the same way agricultural surplus functioned).

Moreover, spinning absolutely dominates production time (again, around 85% of all of the labor-time, a ratio that the spinning wheel and the horizontal loom together don’t really change). This is actually quite handy, in a way, as we’ll see, because spinning (at least with a distaff) could be a mobile activity; a spinner could carry their spindle and distaff with them and set up almost anywhere, making use of small scraps of time here or there.

On the flip side, the labor demands here are high enough prior to the advent of better spinning and weaving technology in the Late Middle Ages (read: the spinning wheel, which is the truly revolutionary labor-saving device here) that most women would be spinning functionally all of the time, a constant background activity begun and carried out whenever they weren’t required to be actively moving around in order to fulfill a very real subsistence need for clothing in climates that humans are not particularly well adapted to naturally. The work of the spinner was every bit as important for maintaining the household as the work of the farmer and frankly students of history ought to see the two jobs as necessary and equal mirrors of each other.

At the same time, just as all farmers were not free, so all spinners were not free. It is abundantly clear that among the many tasks assigned to enslaved women within ancient households. Xenophon lists training the enslaved women of the household in wool-working as one of the duties of a good wife (Xen. Oik. 7.41). ...Columella also emphasizes that the vilica ought to be continually rotating between the spinners, weavers, cooks, cowsheds, pens and sickrooms, making use of the mobility that the distaff offered while her enslaved husband was out in the fields supervising the agricultural labor (of course, as with the bit of Xenophon above, the same sort of behavior would have been expected of the free wife as mistress of her own household).

...Consequently spinning and weaving were tasks that might be shared between both relatively elite women and far poorer and even enslaved women, though we should be sure not to take this too far. Doubtless it was a rather more pleasant experience to be the wealthy woman supervising enslaved or hired hands working wool in a large household than it was to be one of those enslaved women, or the wife of a very poor farmer desperately spinning to keep the farm afloat and the family fed. The poor woman spinner – who spins because she lacks a male wage-earner to support her – is a fixture of late medieval and early modern European society and (as J.S. Lee’s wage data makes clear; spinners were not paid well) must have also had quite a rough time of things.

It is difficult to overstate the importance of household textile production in the shaping of pre-modern gender roles. It infiltrates our language even today; a matrilineal line in a family is sometimes called a ‘distaff line,’ the female half of a male-female gendered pair is sometimes the ‘distaff counterpart’ for the same reason. Women who do not marry are sometimes still called ‘spinsters’ on the assumption that an unmarried woman would have to support herself by spinning and selling yarn (I’m not endorsing these usages, merely noting they exist).

E.W. Barber (Women’s Work, 29-41) suggests that this division of labor, which holds across a wide variety of societies was a product of the demands of the one necessarily gendered task in pre-modern societies: child-rearing. Barber notes that tasks compatible with the demands of keeping track of small children are those which do not require total attention (at least when full proficiency is reached; spinning is not exactly an easy task, but a skilled spinner can very easily spin while watching someone else and talking to a third person), can easily be interrupted, is not dangerous, can be easily moved, but do not require travel far from home; as Barber is quick to note, producing textiles (and spinning in particular) fill all of these requirements perfectly and that “the only other occupation that fits the criteria even half so well is that of preparing the daily food” which of course was also a female-gendered activity in most ancient societies. Barber thus essentially argues that it was the close coincidence of the demands of textile-production and child-rearing which led to the dominant paradigm where this work was ‘women’s work’ as per her title.

(There is some irony that while the men of patriarchal societies of antiquity – which is to say effectively all of the societies of antiquity – tended to see the gendered division of labor as a consequence of male superiority, it is in fact male incapability, particularly the male inability to nurse an infant, which structured the gendered division of labor in pre-modern societies, until the steady march of technology rendered the division itself obsolete. Also, and Barber points this out, citing Judith Brown, we should see this is a question about ability rather than reliance, just as some men did spin, weave and sew (again, often in a commercial capacity), so too did some women farm, gather or hunt. It is only the very rare and quite stupid person who will starve or freeze merely to adhere to gender roles and even then gender roles were often much more plastic in practice than stereotypes make them seem.)

Spinning became a central motif in many societies for ideal womanhood. Of course one foot of the fundament of Greek literature stands on the Odyssey, where Penelope’s defining act of arete is the clever weaving and unweaving of a burial shroud to deceive the suitors, but examples do not stop there. Lucretia, one of the key figures in the Roman legends concerning the foundation of the Republic, is marked out as outstanding among women because, when a group of aristocrats sneak home to try to settle a bet over who has the best wife, she is patiently spinning late into the night (with the enslaved women of her house working around her; often they get translated as ‘maids’ in a bit of bowdlerization. Any time you see ‘maids’ in the translation of a Greek or Roman text referring to household workers, it is usually quite safe to assume they are enslaved women) while the other women are out drinking (Liv. 1.57). This display of virtue causes the prince Sextus Tarquinius to form designs on Lucretia (which, being virtuous, she refuses), setting in motion the chain of crime and vengeance which will overthrow Rome’s monarchy. The purpose of Lucretia’s wool-working in the story is to establish her supreme virtue as the perfect aristocratic wife.

...For myself, I find that students can fairly readily understand the centrality of farming in everyday life in the pre-modern world, but are slower to grasp spinning and weaving (often tacitly assuming that women were effectively idle, or generically ‘homemaking’ in ways that precluded production). And students cannot be faulted for this – they generally aren’t confronted with this reality in classes or in popular culture. ...Even more than farming or blacksmithing, this is an economic and household activity that is rendered invisible in the popular imagination of the past, even as (as you can see from the artwork in this post) it was a dominant visual motif for representing the work of women for centuries.”

- Bret Devereaux, “Clothing, How Did They Make It? Part III: Spin Me Right Round…”

[hwascripts]

Masterlist

WC: Unknown

TW: Swearing, mentions of murder, a bit of angst, I think that’s it!

This is heavily unedited because it’s my Levi simp hours and I need Dad!Levi headcanons. Also your kid and Eren’s kid are gender neutral

Levi as a father 

-I honestly don’t picture Levi as someone who planned on having kids but rather someone who ends up having kids by complete accident. Living in the walls during a war is absolute hell and he doesn’t want his kids to suffer the same way he did growing up.

-Whether or not the kid is adopted or his biological kid- it doesn’t matter to him, he couldn’t give less of a shit about the parentage of his kid...if he raises the kid then you better believe it’s his kid.

If your kid is adopted then here’s how I picture you guys becoming their parents

- During one of your expeditions beyond the walls you find (what you think is) an abandoned cabin in the woods. When you point it out Levi just tells you to ignore it and focus on the task Erwin gave you, but you have this weird gut feeling that someone is in there. While Levi is distracted you go off to the cabin and peek inside and to your horror- there is a small child, no older than a few months crying in it’s deceased mothers arms. You run over and pry the crying baby from the mother’s hands and immediately start trying to hush it’s cries

-Levi notices the fact that you’ve left his side after a few minutes of silence and he pinches his nose in frustration- of course you went to check out the cabin he told you to ignore. He flies away from the tree he was perched on and makes his way to the cabin to look for you- upon reaching the cabin his eyes widen from pure shock. Where the hell did you get a crying baby from? he can’t help but be filled with sorrow when he notice’s the child’s dead parents on the ground behind you- bandits had probably murdered them.

-The two of you have a huge argument about what you should do with the orphan child and this results in the two of you not speaking for over a week. But as the week goes on, he realizes that him and that baby are more similar than he thinks. Levi never had a father- the closest father figure in his life being Kenny who abandoned him at a young age, and his dear mother Kuchel who died of sickness when he was just a boy. Both Levi and the child didn’t have parents in their lives, fate cruelly ripping that away from them. He see’s himself in that baby.

-After a week of silence Levi storms into your office only to catch you asleep with the baby on your chest, his heart softens just the slightest bit at the image. He sits next to you and gently shakes you awake- careful to not wake the sleeping baby. Before you can even say anything he quietly states:

-”we’re not abandoning the baby, we can raise them together”

-All the worry and stress you carried melted away after hearing his words.

If your kid was biologically his, this is how I picture it turning out:

-The day Hanji informed you that you were pregnant was quite possibly one of the worst days of your life (sorry to be angsty) how the hell could you have gotten pregnant? the amount of stress, physical strain on your body and sleepless nights is not ideal for fertility- so how the hell did this happen?

-How the hell would you even tell Levi? The topic of children has never once come up and you’re sure he would never want to raise a child in the walls while titans destroy and kill everyone in sight. Besides- the two of you already have enough on your plates as it is.

- You’d tell him straight out that you were pregnant during your nightly tea time before bed, just straight up dropping the news on him. It takes a few seconds for him to fully register what you just told him but once he finally understands he drops his teacup, the boiling hot tea staining his jacket. All he can do is sputter like a fish out of water and aggressively try to clean the stain.

- I’m going to be realistic here- the last thing he would do is jump for joy and kiss you. I hate to be angsty again but realistically he’d probably storm off and go for a walk around the town while he tries to take in the news. I see him unintentionally ignoring you for a few days while he tries to accept the fact that the two of you are bringing a child into this world.

-After about a week he’s finally calmed himself enough to talk to you about the situation and what the best thing for the two of you is. Again, he isn’t happy that you guys are bringing a kid into this- but who the hell would be? but he sure as hell won’t take that out on the kid, he thinks that’s the most pathetic thing you can do as a parent.

-”look, our situation is shitty but I’m not leaving you to raise the brat on your own”

How he is as a father

- I’m not going to lie to you, he is not the type to coddle his kid or show them a lot of affection. To be honest he doesn’t know a single thing about parenting, the only “parent” he had taught him violence and then left Levi to fend for himself- but he does know that most children don’t grow up around violence so he refuses to be even the slightest bit like his uncle Kenny.

- 100% calls his kid brat, ankle-biter, kid...you name it- but he doesn’t mean it in a derogatory way because deep down inside he still has a soft spot for the kid. 

-He rarely ever shows physical affection to the kid because he just doesn’t know how, he never knew the affectionate touch of another human until you came along. That’s not to say that he doesn’t love his kid- he would sacrifice his life without second thought to protect them.

-He doesn’t realize how distant and cold he can be to his kid until he overhears them crying to you about how “daddy doesn’t love me” and his heart just shatters into a million pieces because he DOES love them but for the life of him he just can’t find a way to show it.

-Levi ends up sitting down with the kid and having a conversation that was long overdue (for reference the kid is now 7 years old) and he admits that he loves them more than anything for the first time.

-Your kid just stares at him for a second and blinks because this is the VERY FIRST TIME they’re hearing their dad say I love you- Levi nearly has a heart attack when the kid launches themselves into his chest and starts sobbing.

-For the very first time in 7 years this kid is finally experiencing the love from their father (besides awkward headpats) and the feeling is just so foreign to both of them that even Levi sniffles a little bit

-Levi silently rocks them back and forth while he rubs their back, the child’s sobs turning into soft sniffles. But what Levi says next shocks all three of you.

“I’m sorry for being a terrible father. forgive me little one?”

-You don’t know what shocks you more- the fact he apologized or that he called your child “little one” instead of the usual “brat”. The kid looks at him while wiping their tears away.

“you’re not a bad daddy. I love you papa”

-To this day Levi swears he just had watery eyes because of the dust but you know damn well they were fat tears rolling down his face

-After this incident Levi swears to himself that he’ll be a more affectionate father, a father who tells his kid that he’s proud of them, a father who their kid can rely on.

-He’s tough on his kid and never lets them slack off, he scolds them whenever they make bad choices and sometimes your kid says he’s got a stick up his ass (you lightly scold them but the two of you always end up laughing because it’s true) but your husband deeply cares for your child and does it so they can grow into the best version of themselves.

-Did I mention that he absolutely flips the fuck out when your kid brings home Eren’s kid to introduce you to them? You have to sit on him to make sure that he doesn’t strangle the poor bastard. 

“If that son of a bitch is anything like his father then they’re going home in a bodybag!” “Levi you can’t threaten them just because they’re Eren’s kid!” “Like hell I can’t! nobody is good enough for our child”

-Your kid quickly learns that they can’t bring their significant other home while Levi is there- unless they have a death wish. The two of you team up to keep Levi distracted for a few hours while the couple chills in your living room

-Your kid swears like a sailor (just like their dad) and Levi swears on his life that he’s not the one that taught them that.

“What the hell do you mean? I didn’t do shit! I don’t fucking know where they picked that up from!” *cue you looking into the camera*

-He’s so damn proud when he see’s his kid graduate at the top of their class. He doesn’t scream at the top of his lungs when your kid walks across the stage but he pulls them to the side after and congratulates them with a small smile on his face

“Good job. I’m proud of you, damn brat”

-Gives them one of his rare Levi hugs and the kid nearly drops the diploma in shock because “wtf dad never hugs me”

-You have to pinch his side multiple times during your kid and Eren’s kids wedding because he won’t shut the hell up with snarky remarks

“Say no goddamnit!” *you pinch him* 

“Ow son of a bitch! what the fuck Y/n?”

 “Would you shut the hell up and be happy for our child on their wedding day?!” 

“I would if our child had taste and picked someone el- OW FUCK!” 

“Shut the fuck up already and behave, Levi!”

-He grumbles while the rest of the former cadets and captains laugh at his sour look

Silly headcanons

-God could you imagine Levi and your kid sitting at the dinner table, it’s almost midnight and they’re arguing over a homework question neither of them understand. This is the night both of you hear your kid swear

“What the hell is this shit? Improper fractions are made-up bullshit”

“If you don’t know then how the fuck am I suppose to know?”

-It’s so silent you can hear a pin drop

“Levi come here for a second”

“Shit...finish this while I’m gone, brat”

-Your kid laughs their ass off while you pull Levi’s ear and drag him to your shared room

‘Yeah keep fucking laughing at your dad, brat!”

“LEVI!”

-An absolute nightmare when it comes to cleaning oh my god both you and your kid wanna kill him sometimes

“This shit isn’t clean, you wipe it down six times and then place it at an angle”

“Levi it’s a fucking T.V. Remote”

-The war ended years ago now and he tells your kid about all the titans he killed and the ass he kicked

“And then I sliced that ugly bastard titan’s head clean off!”

“Levi for someone who’s a clean freak your stories sure are gross”

-The noise the toaster makes when it’s done scares the shit out of him. He’ll be in the middle of scolding your kid and then he jumps because the toaster is done and your kid just thinks it’s comedic gold

“I fucking told you not to do that shit but you went and did it anyways, do you know how irresponsi-FUCK! damn toaster- Hey stop laughing brat I’m not done yet!”

That’s all I’ve got for now- stay tuned

[rezident-simp]

Kaeya, Diluc, Zhongli, and Xiao fluff abcs

===

Admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Kae: your expressiveness. Whether your angry, happy or anything, he loves how you feel comfortable enough to express your feelings.

===

Diluc: your strength. To him, no matter what, your the strongest person he’ll ever meet, and he loves you for that.

===

Zhongli: your knowledge. Your love to know things and what you already know have him caught, and he loves to sit with you and talk about anything, be it history or about a book.

===

Xiao: your warmth. Xiao, at the end of the day, loves to cuddle you into his chest and relax in your warmth. Even though he’s a Yaksha who doesn’t require sleep, he always feels his eyes be a bit heavy as he cuddles you.

===

B = Body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Kae: your hips. He loves how nice they feel and how they look when they move. He also likes to grab them when you two ar-

:)

===

Diluc: your hands. So smooth, he loves to kiss them. The feeling of your hands and how you hold his own hand makes him feel comfortable around you.

===

Zhongli: your hair. Short or long or medium, he likes how soft it is. He also really like to brush it, and it he can, he’ll even style it for you.

===

Xiao: your arms. He believes you to be a strong person, and holds onto them tightly when you two are in or near a dangerous area.

===

C = Cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Kae: he is the big spoon. He likes to have you cuddled up to him, his arms pulling you in and your legs entangled.

===

Diluc: little and big spoon. When he’s little, he’ll be pressed up against your back, hugging it. When’s he big, your pressed up to his chest. Good luck getting out of his grip. You’ll have to wait for him to wake up, or find out how to do it yourself ^^

===

Zhongli: big spoon. He likes to know that your there, so your most definitely pressed up against his chest, his arms hugging you.

===

Xiao: little and big spoon. He’s usually the little spoon if he’s having a bad day, and needs your comfort. He’s snuggled into your chest in a ball. As a big spoon, he’d be one if he’s having a good day and/or wants to cuddle. Arms wrapped around your waist as he hugs you close.

===

D = Dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

Kae: a nice drink at Angels Share or Cats Tail would do! If it’s at Angels Share, he’d tell Diluc his plans and make sure that you feel comfortable. But you two mostly go to Cats Tail on a date, only because Diona adores you two together and she makes you two special drinks with a little less alcohol

===

Diluc: a simple walk through the forest. The calming sound of the birds and the gently tree rustles calm both of you as you walk hand in hand, enjoying each other’s company.

===

Zhongli: at a tea house. He likes the calm area and he knows exactly what kind of tea that you like. Don’t like tea? He’d take you sightseeing or give a history lesson on Liyue. Maybe you’d have tea and a history lesson ^^

===

Xiao: a nice meal on the Wangshuu inn rooftop. Especially at the sunset, where the Inn is calmer and the sunset can be seen in such a beautiful way. Cuddles are a must afterwards.

===

E = Emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Kae: he’s open about them. He feels comfortable and isn’t afraid to express his emotions around you.

===

Diluc: very open. He has a lot of walls up, but he knows that he can bring them down around you. Bad day? He knows that he can vent to you.

===

Zhongli: not super open. He doesn’t want you to worry about him, but if he feels like he can he’ll come to you to vent.

===

Xiao: he’s closed. He would hate to burden you with the fact that he has his karmic debt, and he usually keeps his emotions bottled up unless you can get him to open up and vent or something.

===

F = Family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

Kae: Kaeya would love one! But he feels as though he’d be too busy to hang out with his family, and worries that he wouldn’t be a good father even when you reassure him that he’d be great.

===

Diluc: he does want one, but like Kaeya, worried that he won’t have enough time and wouldn’t be a good father. He worries about them and if you do have a family, he would hope every day that he didn’t end up like his father.

===

Zhongli: he’d be glad to have one. A little scared, but glad. He’d make sure to give them the best education, find good people to babysit them maybe Hu Tao when she’s older but it’s Xiao time for now tehe

===

Xiao: a maybe. He knows that he can be seen as cold and scary, and would actually hate for his own kids to see him as a scary person. But maybe.

===

G = Gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Kae: gives you pretty jewelry. Necklaces, rings, anything! Oh, there’s a thing that you seem to like? Yours hehehhe

===

Diluc: he’ll gift you things you want. As long as he can, of course. He’s probably the type to also buy you jewelry, but kinda a bit more expensive

Just a lil tiny bitty tiny bit more expensive

===

Zhongli: flowers. Anything really. If he was still an archon, he’d gift you so many things like sir please-

He tries his best to get you plenty of gifts ^^

===

Xiao: probably doesn’t understand until Verr Goldet explains. He gets you a lot of silk flowers and crystalflies, maybe even some core lapis if he can :0

===

H = Holding Hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Kae: Kaeya will always hold your hand. In public? Hand hold. In bed? Hand hold. On an adventure? Hand hold. Hotel? Trivago.

Love to hold your hand uwu

===

Diluc: kinda like Kaeya, but only on adventures or in bed. He isn’t a big fan of PDA, so expect lots of hand holding when alone :0

===

Zhongli: holds your hand whenever he can. Will hold your hand in public, bed, and when he’s reading to you. Always happy to hold it.

===

Xiao: only in bed and on the rooftop. Can’t change his mind. He loves you lots but also a smol bby who thinks he’d get teased for holding hand. No that would be illegal smh

===

I = Injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)(personal fave, yummy angst)

Kae: angy. Like very. If it’s serious he goes and slaughters whatever or whoever hurt you. He’s afraid to lose you too. He can’t lose you. Not now. Not ever.

===

Diluc: very angy. Pissed. Its serious? Slaughters whatever or whoever hurt you aswell, absolutely furious. And scared. Very scared. In fact, Barbara remembers Diluc holding himself back from bursting into tears when he saw you all bandaged up. He can’t lose you too, he can’t. He just can’t.

===

Zhongli: confused at first, only for a split second, when he realizes it, a large meteor can be seen heading towards what or who hurt you. If it’s serious he wastes no time in getting you to Baizhu.

===

Xiao: furious. Whatever or whoever hurt you is dead within seconds. He never wastes time getting you to Wangshuu Inn as he holds back his tears.

===

Danke! This is all for now, but I’ll hopefully get the rest out tomorrow ^^

Just gonna place this here come get ur Diluc @witch-hazels-musings hehe

[julietas-basil]

Request below!

a very NSFW julieta fic for our darling @leaflvr<3

The fic will include the following; NSFW content,explicit scenes,mentions of inappropriate language,reference to sexual contact,depiction of kink,fluff,romance,kisses,cuddles etc.

"Under The Warmth Of Our Skins"

The love you and julieta shared was one of fairytales,the inevitable ...the most unimaginable and out-of-this-world romance filled in small ,peppered kisses here and there across your faces,a body language that could be spoken mostly by touch;gripping ,grazing over soft surfaces,holding on to her hands whenever the tension would be too much to bear. Julieta was undoubtedly proficient in communicating with you on that matter,and you felt the most loved person in the world.

The cuddles were really not out of these benevolent acts,relaxing in each other's arms while staring at the night sky,watching the stars fading into the dark pitch color of the midnight and then reborn into ones of the most shining ornaments. You enjoyed every part of it and Julieta wasn't that far herself,there were times she would let her eyes wander over your delicate feautes,her digits tracing over them,in a perfect attempt to absorb your whole existence into her mind. And then she would turn your face over her direction to stare deeply into your soul and rest her forehead into yours. It was an unspeakable connection people would often underline ,surely they weren't wrong at the last bit...

She barely moved forward when you got lost in the moments of kissing,maybe her hands would rest on your thigh,gropping the flesh in her hands repeteadly,used to the times she would roll the puffy dough between her experienced knuckles. A fire would build up in your abdomen,whimpers of pleasure releasing from your throat,your lips still glued to each other,tongues interwhined in a passioante dance. You tried to swallowed your lack in breathing but everything ended in vain,with the short woman parting from your sharing moment,her palm resting on your cheek. The following scene had you blushing hard,while a string of saliva traveled down the brunette's chin. The tip of her tongue wipped off the wetness,biting her lips. She was teasing you,you were absolutely aware of that,yet you reached out for more. Upon extending your arm,she would wrap her hand on your wrist,blow you a loving kiss and then excuse herself...

Of course that left you frustrated,and you would definately forgive her and forget her oh "selfish" actions the next day. The situation could've gotten worse,if it wasn't for your protest...nude bodies tangled between the sheets,hands too occupied in getting used to the new feeling,the sensation of your lovers naked frame was the result ,since noone could really hold it in anymore you ended up breathless,whining in ecstacy when your bodies collided...

You didn't really think much to discuss further about sex,what it was closer to your ideal form of pleasure,you remained comfortable at the part of where you got drowned in your lingering touches and lustful kisses. For you,dear (Y/N),this was undeniably more than enough. Never the less,you had dreamed of having your loved tied up in your king's bed,writhing over the sheets begging for the slightest of your touch. This send shivers down your spine,the image acting out in your head had you sweating as well,your palms massaging between your thighs,slowly biting your lower lip...

The next morning you entered the kitchen to see your Amor cooking soomething,switching positions every now and then to check on her bowl of dough or lean to admix a few herbs. You smiled enthusiastically over her picked up speed "Wow,how can you keep up with that?" she laughed responsively "Guess the need of emergency ?" her eyes finding yours. you hummed grinning at the cook in front of you. Your feet moved faster than expected,cathing the older woman in your embrace,your arm twisting her around so that you could stare into loving eyes "Eres hermana mi Amor.."you confessed to the nurse,whipping a loose strand behind her ear "Only because of you,mi Vida"she allowed her head to fall on the back of your hand. Your hand dropped to firmly grope her lower back,before she could say anything you trapped her lips into yours. The taste of vanilla filling your mouth "mmh...you taste devine" you complimented the flushed girl,who was ready to snap at your naughty behaviour "Ay,amor the food!" she exclaimed trying to escape from your embrace "Don't you dare..'you firml pulled her back to you "Casita take care of the food for us!" you ordered the magic house,which immediately replied in tiles rolling.

Before,Julieta could react to your sudden actions,you pushed her in her room kicking the door close "now You are mine amado" your lustful gaze fell upon the oldest of madrigal triplets,the cook felt electricity hit her once she felt your eyes 'undressing' her. The healer never repleyed her stare glued towards you,awaiting for your next move. You smiled wickedly motioning the woman to fall back on the bed. Your legs guided you to her closet searching for a leather piece of fabric "Let's see..."you heard a small giggle "¿Amor,Qué es eso?"a glimpse of a leather belt caught your undivided attention "Aha!"

"we are gonna play a little game,Querido"

You swallowed "you are going to relax and I...will...take good care of you" every sentence was followed by a step,placing your self on the bed on top of the older woman. Your hand traveled on her top yanking the cloth over her head to help her take it off. The brunette was determined to assist the slow process by removing her brassiere...

Full breasts came into view,falling impressively over her soft stomach. you didn't waste time in tasting the ivory mounts earning a whine from your lover. The sound drove you insane,reaching for her skirt pressing it over her kness,along with her underwear. The smell of arousal hit your nose,throwing her rest of clothing at the floor. Upon placing yourself between dark thighs,your hand slapped the naked back of her thigh,gripping onto the warm flesh "¡(y/n)!" the sharp feeling,created a new sensation "You liked it Amor?" the cook nodded her head a frown of pleasure overtaking her calm features...

Your weight pushed the brunette on the mattress,your arms wrapping her wrists in your hold. You used the leather around her wrists tying them on the headboard "From now on no hands allowed,right amor?" The young woman nodded positively,as you decided to leave a reassuring kiss on her forhead. You placed yourself before her closed kness,using your strong arms to press the kness open.

The girl whimpered a few curses under her breath her hips shifting,arms tagging,the need to grip the cold sheets was strong but the knot restricted any of her movements. Your hands traced two delicate paths across the heated flesh to her inner thighs,"Ah!"the tied woman let a moan escape her mouth " You look so beautiful tied up,mi Vida"you grinned teasingly,the tip of your tongue laying flat across her clitoris. Your eyes fluttered close ,your lips capturing the swollen numb in between sucking the salty flavour that was coating her lower lips "¡Dίos mίo,(y/n)!" you felt her body tremble at your ministrations.

You allowed your muscle to lay flat on the soultry pool of cum that rested on her opening,lapping over the engorged clitoris. You trapped the bundle of nerves rubbing it in slow circles,the sounds the older woman was making could inticate of how good your lovemaking was. To be able to taste her in depth was heavenly,and hearing her loose herself in the sensations you cause so filthily,made you go insane.

She was your muse,your incentive,you were so in love with how every part of her would complete your imperfections in a way noone could've been able to attempt fixing...The thought alone was enough to make you devour her,get drunk in her taste. You opened your eyes to stare at a very impatient woman,struggling to move her wrists "¡Mh,Amor por favor!" the nurse protested her face giving away the need to feel the pleasure to the edge "What do you want Querido?" you asked the girl, a couple of fingers joining her warmth,a groan came out the healer's chest "Please,mi Vida..."she sighed "Please your fingers...I want them...inside"the cook said while taking sharp breaths,as she felt your digits hit the right spot...

You adjusted your hand,with your thumb pushing onto the blushing clitoris,thrusting in vigourously "Harder (y/n)!"her head fell back,full lips parting releasing a loud moan. Quick breaths started forming through the process signaling that she was close to her orgasm. You decided to bit a bit of her thigh,make sure to leave a mark for tomorrow

"Aquί amor!" the brunette shouted in ecstacy,rolling her sides according to your own rythm,waves of pleasure rulling over the woman's body. A few fastened thrusts and the nurse was done for,hands aching to get free while her body sqquirmed and spasmed under your touch,feeling her walls contrasting around your long fingers,covering them in the tasteful liquid.

Your gazes were stuck to each others' for a moment dragging your limps out of her vagina on to your lips,savouring the salty coat of cum "Your taste divine.." you grinned leaning enough to untie her tired arms "How do you feel Corazon?" you studyied the girls face for awhile "it was amazing,I thought My head would burst"the short woman laughed her teeth grazing her lower lip.

She caught your face in her palms,kissing you softly under the dim light "Mmh...you look so attractive between my legs"a giggle found you both,your foreheads touching for awhile "I'm pretty sure bebe...but now it's time to rest alright?" the woman bobbed her head pushing you over her breasts..

You laid in the quietness,sitting there until Julieta kissed your hair,excusing herself in the kitchen to cook for dinner. At that time you had fallen asleep too busy to comprehend what was happening around you,only curled up a little to feel the warmth of the blankets...

[wearywinchester]

Something Old and Something New — Part One

Mechanic!Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: When life takes a turn and you take an unexpected break from college in Stanford with your best friend Sam, you return home to your job at your family’s co-owned garage. You return home to work alongside the guy you thought you hated—Dean Winchester.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: mild angst, mentions of death, mild swearing, fluff

A/N: Part one to my mechanic!Dean series!

Kansas.

It’s always been home to you no matter what, even if your time was split between here on summer break and the apartment you shared with Sam while the two of you went to school together. It was somewhere that never changed despite your ever changing life, and that was something you felt you needed amidst everything swirling through your mind as of the last six months. A place that was always there to welcome you back home with open arms no matter how few and far between your stays back there were. It was home and it was familiar.

You sighed as you looked out of the car window, gaze focused on just about everything you could see ever since you landed at the airport just barely half an hour earlier. You had to admit you were happy to be home for more than just a short period of time, you missed it here. But you wished it were under better circumstances.

Sam was still back at Stanford surely with his nose stuck in a book far too thick for you to think about without giving yourself a headache, and while the thought made you smile, you couldn’t help the nagging feeling knowing you should be there too. You were nearing the tail end of your time in law school, having had one year left before you’re expected to graduate and get your degree, though you were feeling a little less excited than you think you should be. You were home instead of over there after all.

“For itchin’ to be back home, you sure don’t look like it,” Benny chuckled from the driver’s seat, glancing at you as your lips pursed and your brow quirks up. He nudges you with his elbow to accompany his words, his amusement only increasing at your grumpy expression.

Benny.

He was your parents best friend for as long as you can remember, the closest thing you’ve got to family since your parents passed away a few years back. He was an uncle to you just as much as Bobby Singer was to Sam and Dean, and you knew you wouldn’t trade him for the world. Even when he’s giving you a hard time like in that very moment.

“I wasn’t exactly planning on taking this kind of a break either, Benny,” you huff, shifting in your seat. You turned your head at the quiet sound of his laugh, your gaze narrowing. “‘S not funny.”

“You’re right, it’s not. But that pout you got goin’ on is.”

When he looks at you once more it takes all but a few seconds for you to turn your head and look away, eyes rolling as you bite the inside of your cheek to stifle your smile. You shake your head, knowing it’s no use to even try.

But it���s true, you weren’t expecting to take this kind of a break this far into college because you weren’t expecting to fall out of love with your choice in a career. You made it this far—you were twenty-four and on the brink of becoming a lawyer along with your best friend Sam. But somewhere between here and there you found yourself mulling over the possibility that maybe you didn’t quite like this kind of job as much as you initially thought. You chalked it up to burnout at first, a reasonable assumption, but after returning back from summer break last year feeling less than refreshed and ready to start the new year of studies, you weren’t feeling that same spark.

You were beginning to feel like that profession wasn’t quite the right fit for you, and that was when you decided to come home.

“You’ll figure it out, you know. You always do, Y/n/n,” he says after a little while.

The smile his words pull from you is more bittersweet than anything, because you felt so far from figuring it out that it was near laughable. If you weren’t going to be a lawyer, and you were entertaining the thought more and more every minute, you didn’t have a single clue as to what you’d do with your life. Going into the family business wasn’t exactly an ideal option—you knew your way around a car but you don’t think you could spend day in and day out being a receptionist forever either. You enjoyed what you did at the garage when you work, but you wanted to do more.

You knew that, you just didn’t know what.

“Sam doesn’t even know why I’m taking a break, that’s how ‘figured out’ I have this whole thing. He thinks it’s just ‘cause I miss home,” you say with a sigh, slumping back in your seat.

“You don’t miss home?” He asks, humor in his tone as he raises a brow in faux offense.

You flash him a half annoyed glance, lips pursed only momentarily. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Your frown has him smiling all the more as you sulk, your mood only fueling his good one because that’s just how Benny Lafitte is. Not that he likes seeing you in misery, he just sees that everything will work out in time, even if you don’t.

“C’mon, Y/n, lighten up a little, kid!” He says, as upbeat as he can be as he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. You roll your eyes and smile a little more. “There’s that smile.”

You shake your head as a laugh falls from your lips, huffing out another sigh as you look at him. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Is there any other way to be?”

You let out an amused huff then, feeling just a little bit lighter than you had when your plane first landed, though the tension in the very pit of your stomach still remained tightly coiled in its ever present knot.

There was a lot for you to think about in the time that you had here, your mind always wandering back to how you’d tell Sam. He loved it there and it was clear to see that, it was clear to see he fit the job and was leaps and bounds more enthusiastic about it than you. You thought about the extra studying you’d have to do if you decide to go back, and the studying you should probably keep doing if you want to be consistent and retain what you’ve learned. But the mere thought itself was something that made your head spin, something that made you even more content with the idea to leave that behind and stay here.

Surely Sam would understand it.

It wasn’t more than five minutes before Benny pulled his truck into the parking lot of the garage, the one you’ve been to a million times over by now. It was just the same as you left it last—a little rough around the edges but it was like a home away from home and you’d never think otherwise.

“Dean’s real excited to see you,” he jests, nudging your arm. His laughter is immediate at the sight of your expression, a scoff leaving your lips.

“I’ll bet he is,” you mumble, unbuckling your seatbelt.

“I thought you two grew out of that phase by now.”

“Who said it’s a phase, Benny?” You smile.

Dean Winchester.

The one who stepped on the backs of your shoes as a kid, the one who took the last slice of pie and still will without a beat of hesitation. The one you stole flannels from as teens, especially the ones he wore most often just to hear him shout and complain when they’d gone missing. It was a habit that led you to find the stash of candy bars he’d kept hidden in his closet, snagging them not so discreetly only for him to turn around and get you right back.

The two of you strived to get on each other’s nerves and it showed to just about anyone who had the pleasure of spending so much as five minutes with the two of you in the same room. You bickered even on the best of days, always a constant string of eye rolls and curses mumbled under the others breath in complaint. He was just as stubborn as you, and maybe, just maybe have you met your match.

You hopped out of the truck and closed the door, smoothing your hands over your jeans. You squinted as you looked upward, laughing softly. “You still haven’t fixed the sign?”

The ‘s’ that was supposed to be upright at the end of ‘repairs’ had been dangling crookedly since the last time you were here, looking comical and out of place with the rest of the sign but you can’t say you were surprised that it looked the very same.

“What do you mean still? It hasn’t even been that long,” he defended, scratching his head as he bit back his grin.

“Benny, I was here eight months ago and it looks exactly the same,” you say, brow raised as you squint at him with an amused smile.

When he does nothing but shrug his shoulders and hope you take his smile as a peace offering, you simply shake your head and laugh, pulling open the front door and walking inside.

The familiarity hit you once you walked in, the slightly crammed and cluttered place smelling a little bit like gasoline and a lot like the lunch everyone had on the collective lunch break. The radio in the corner was playing classic rock, the station never having changed from it unless you wanted to get on Dean’s nerves a little bit and switch it to some pop music he swore he absolutely dreaded. You knew better than to believe that when you caught him singing some lyrics under his breath as he worked on Baby after hours.

You leaned over the counter, the desk you called your very own and your pictures were still there, little knick knacks still in there place but everything was just a little bit grease smudged from one of the guys taking up reception.

“Look who’s back in town.”

You stilled, gaze shifting upwards in an eye roll as a huff exhales through your nose. You knew that voice anywhere, it was impossible not to. It was the voice of the very one who strived to get on your nerves with nearly every word he spoke because that’s just how he is.

Dean.

You spun on your heel and met his gaze, the irritated expression you’d held for the older Winchester faltering for just a moment at the very sight of him standing before you before it quickly returned with just a little less annoyance than it once had. The smirk he wore was enough to do just that, a bit of grease smeared across his cheek with some matching stains on his shirt.

“Deanie,” you greet, his expression fading in favor of a more hardened one at the nickname you knew he hated.

It didn’t last very long, the very corners up his mouth quirking upwards in a way that was all too telling that he was undoubtedly up to something. You knew him by now yet you were still too caught up with something about him to realize it before it was too late.

“Y’miss me, sweetheart?” He asks, tugging you in close for a hug. He gave you a squeeze just to hear you whine an fuss over the fact that he’d been sweaty from the heat of working all afternoon, that and the grease that most definitely was getting all over you.

“Dean,” you grumble, shoving at his shoulders halfheartedly, “get off!”

He let go with a chuckle, his head tipping back in a louder bout of laughter at the sight of the grease having smeared on your cheek and the frown on your lips. Fighting your smile was harder than you cared to admit in that moment, and you hated the way that maybe you missed the feel of his arms wrapped around you once he let go of his embrace. You shook your head partly in a bit of annoyance and partly to shake those thoughts away, arms having been crossed over your chest when he looked at you.

“You got a little somethin’ on your face.” He licks the pad of his thumb and reaches forward teasingly to wipe it off, your hand pushing his away.

“What’s the matter, law school too boring for you now?” He jests lightheartedly, slinging the rag in his hand up to rest on his shoulder.

You roll your eyes in response as you look away briefly. That’s when he saw a flicker of something different cross your expression for a mere moment, something he knows is more than just a little bit of annoyance. He knows you a bit better than you realize. It’s different but you quickly mask it with a smirk of your own and he thinks nothing more of it.

“Don’t you have a car to fix?”

“Don’t you have a textbook to read?”

You scrunch up your nose and he scrunches his, and you’re seconds from snagging the rag off his shoulder before the phone rings. You round the desk as he leans his elbows on the counter. He’s got a smirk on his lips as you shoo him away, more adamant the more the phone rings as he reaches over and snags a piece of candy from the jar you always kept. Your glare is one that he basks in as he pops the candy in his mouth.

“Winchester and Lafitte Automotive Repairs, this is Y/n speaking,” you say as you answer the phone, missing the way he smiles to himself and shakes his head as he walks away.

—

You sighed as the old clock on the wall behind your desk strikes seven o’clock, the last customer of the day having just picked up their car to take home. The stuffy heat had cooled off some now the the sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky now that evening rolled around, the fan set up in the corner helping just a little bit. Everything was cast in a golden orange hue as the sunlight streamed in, carrying with it the shadows of the pine trees standing tall on the other side of the road.

Your work day was cut a few hours shorter than it usually was since your arrival earlier that afternoon, but you were still just as tired, body fatigued from traveling. You were more than grateful that most of your stuff was already in your apartment here, the only things you’d brought having been your clothes and things you’d miss if you left it back at your place you shared with Sam.

“This place never runs quite as good without you, you know,” Benny says, nudging your shoulder as he passes behind you to snag his keys from the hook.

You smiled at his words, nodding softly as the sentiment brightened your mood a little bit more. “You ready to go?”

You stood from your chair and pushed it in as you stretched, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. The look on Benny’s face when he’d turned around to face you was one that had you curious, cautious at that. It was apologetic and amused all in one, something that was far too indicative that what he was about to say was something you didn’t want to hear.

“Don’t be mad, but—”

You tilt your head and your expression falls neutral as your lips purse. “Why do I feel like I’m going to be mad?”

He started to pass you and round the corner, almost as if to dodge a bullet, said bullet being just about anything you could throw before he spoke up.

“I can’t take you back home, so…” he takes note of your souring mood and he holds a finger up as you walk out from behind the counter with crossed arms. “So, Dean’s gonna drive you home. I already put your bags in his car earlier.”

“You what?”

The two words were doubly shocked and equally displeased as you and the green eyed Winchester spoke them at the same time. When you turned you saw him wiping his hands on a rag before tossing it to the side, his brows furrowed.

“Do me a favor and try not to kill each other,” Benny smiled, one that was far too innocent for his own good because you knew for a fact he’d done it on purpose.

But he said nothing more as he tossed Dean his keys, kissing the top of your head before he slipped out the front door. You turned to look at Dean who’d looked at you, a mirrored look of pursed lips and furrowed brows shared between you two as silence engulfed the place for just a few moments.

“I call radio,” you say, his brow raising when you head towards the door.

“Like hell you do,” he calls after you.

You were lucky it was only a ten minute drive to get there, the tension thick as you got in the car. He turned the radio up with a sly smile and a laugh at your glare, dodging your swat to his shoulder.

“Do you listen to anything other than the same five songs, Dean?” You huff, elbow on the door as you rest your head on your hand.

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he says, tapping the steering wheel as he pulls out of the gravel parking lot, engine revving as he sped down the road.

You look over at him to see the content smile sitting pretty on his lips, his arm resting on the edge of the open window as his hand settled at the very top of the door, the other rested loosely on the wheel. That very same Zepplin song was playing on the radio that you were convinced he listens to daily, in fact, you knew he did because that’s how Dean is.

“What?” He asks, amused curiosity in his tone.

“Nothing,” you say as you look away, biting the inside of your cheek.

“The hot shot lawyer’s got nothin’ to say, I’m shocked,” he says, faux surprise coating his tone.

“Will you cool it with the lawyer talk?” You huff, staving off the anger in your words with a soft shove to his shoulder.

To be fair, he didn’t know just why it was that you were back here earlier than you should be, he was just yanking your chain like he always did. But it became abundantly clear to him that there was more to it than just a little annoyance. That, paired with the look on your face earlier made it all the more clear for him to see that.

He looked over at you with furrowed brows, the dimples by the corners of his mouth appearing as he looked at you briefly before turning his attention back to the road. He may have cracked jokes and got on your nerves just as much as you did the same to him, but he knew you more than you realized, knew when something was more than just a joke to you. You’ve got this frown that you don’t even know you have, and you bite your lip. He even notices that you tap your foot too—he noticed the little things but he won’t admit it.

His jaw clenched as he turned the radio down a little, speeding up a bit more down the open road.

You’re quick to get out when you arrive at your apartment. It was a nice little place, a house rather, one split right down the middle. You’ve got the right side and Mrs. Allen’s got the left, a sweet older lady that’s lived there far longer than you. She makes a point to tell you you’re her favorite neighbor, and she makes a point to say something about you and Dean every time she sees him that makes your eyes roll.

You knew for a fact she’d say something in the morning.

You snagged one of your bags from the trunk and he grabbed the other, slinging it over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to carry my stuff, you know. I can do it myself,” you say, but you make no effort to grab it from him.

“I know you can.”

You sigh as you fish your keys from your pocket as you continue on up the walkway and up the steps of your porch, sticking them in the door. You drop your stuff down just inside the door with a sigh, grabbing the bag from his outstretched hand before you step inside and turn the front light on.

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, shifting on his feet as the words sit on the tip of his tongue. The very words he’s been thinking about since you’d gotten upset in the car even if you wouldn’t dare to admit it.

“Good night, Dean,” you say, offering a half smile as you go to close the door.

His palm presses to the door almost before you move to close it, and he steps forward a step or two. Your brows furrow as you lean against the doorframe, watching as his mouth opens and closes a few times, and he’s lost for words for a few moments. You don’t push and you don’t pry as you stand there curiously, arms having been crossed over your chest.

“I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings,” he starts, hesitant and a bit quieter as he scratches the back of his neck and clears his throat. “In the car, I mean.”

You stand there, and it takes a beating silence before he meets your gaze. The sincerity in his voice isn’t something you hear all too often in your direction, having always been jokes and witty sarcasm painted over his words but this, this was a little different.

“S’okay,” you say, pushing yourself off the doorframe.

He smiles then, a soft chuckle leaving his lips as he nods. “I’ll uh, I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

You nod at his words, the corner of your mouth tugging upwards. “Good night, Winchester.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding when you closed the door, back pressing to it as you tip your head back. The day you had left you more than tired, thoughts running wild with no end in sight. But the day wasn’t half bad, not really. The two of you had gotten on each other’s nerves every moment you get to do so, but maybe you missed him a little bit more than you thought. Maybe through the layers of wit and remarks there was a little part of you that missed the green eyed Winchester but you’d never admit it.

Unbeknownst to you, maybe he did too.

The rumble of his engine was clear as he pulled away and drove down the street, a huff leaving your lips as you rub your face as you lock the door behind you for the night.

—

Series taglist: @myloversgone @dean-is-sams-apple-pie

General taglist: @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @dean-is-sams-apple-pie @elegantbutedgy @humanmistakes @agalliasi @campingmonkey

[rein-ette]

Hi! Could you give us some modern day German bros hcs?

Yes. Absolutely. Thank you for asking, this is one of my favourite topics ever.

I know canon says that Gilbert lives in Lud’s basement and mooches off of him, but may I assert that Gilbert actually lives in the basement of his own house, which he bequeathed to Ludwig, while he spent time rotting in Soviet prison. The house, along with a significant (but diminishing) majority of Lud’s savings were all originally Gilbert’s fortune, only gathered after saving every penny of his officers commissions for centuries. Now, this isn’t to say that Ludwig mooches off Gilbert either, because Lud does work his sweet muscular ass off and earns a respectable wage from the federal government. And it’s true that legally, Lud did inherit Gilbert’s property in the West. But Gil still has every right to live in a house he bought, and he only chose to take the basement floor because 1) it seemed kinda mean spirited to make Ludwig move out of the master bedroom after living there for 3 decades, and 2) the “basement” floor is a complete flat in and of itself, so he and Ludwig can both have some measure of privacy.

Warning: way more rambling ahead

As for living fees, I hc that Prussia fulfills a role in government as the state of Brandenburg. Others may disagree that Brandenburg should have its own “national” representative, an idea I’ve toyed with myself, but I’ve settled on the interpretation of history where Prussia is Brandenburg for several reasons. The main one is that while Prussia is a geographical expression referring to the area around Königsberg that is now Russian/Polish, Prussia is also a historical, political, and cultural entity. Berlin has been the seat of Prussian power and the symbol of its culture, ideals, and traditions from the very beginning — what we think of when we say Prussia (the historical state) really began as Brandenburg, who’s ruling family (the Hohenzollerns) subsequently acquired Prussia (the Polish territory) and saw an opportunity to crown themselves King, using the Prussian title as a convenient “excuse” (for various political reasons). In short: the name “Prussia” is misleading — the state of Brandenburg-Prussia has always been more Brandenburg than it’s been Prussian.

I DIGRESS. The point is Prussia also earns part of his wages for himself from the Brandenburg state government. He doesn’t work nearly as much with the gov as the others (Arthur, Francis) do though: mostly 'cause the government can function by itself and doesn't need much advice from Prussia, who's wealth of experience is not readily applicable to like, park-building and such anyways. When Lud becomes overwhelmed Gil also helps out with his paperwork, but -- and this is, I believe, rather idiosyncratic to the German gov -- Gil does not often attend functions in an official capacity. Since the war, the new German government has wanted for obvious reasons to distance itself as much from its past as possible, so having too many people know about Gilbert's real identity, or even having him work to closely with the PM just feels...wrong. Officially Prussia may now simply be the state of Brandenburg, but its clear that's not all he is. He has the Old World air, the kind of presence that reminds humans he is the collision of a thousand lifetimes all at once, a breathing monument to history. And so for the modern German state, which has struggled so desperately to throw off the shadows of its past, to associate closely with the embodiment of Prussia is just not great for everyone involved.

This brings me to another dynamic that I've wanted to explore in a fic for a long time: how terribly young Ludwig is compared to the nations he works with. I mean, Germany only became a thing in 1871, less than 200 years ago. While I hc him to have existed for a couple decades before that, slowly growing under Prussia's care, this man is still younger than either Alfred or Matt. And yet he has to work closely and on equal terms with nations that are more than ten times as old as he is. Of course, former colonies like Al and even younger ones like New Zealand also work on equal terms with older countries like England now, but Ludwig has the added disadvantage of needing to protect a legacy. He may be young, but the cultures he now represents are not. He does not get to start afresh. He does not get to revolt against imperialism and forge his own destiny. And unlike former colonies, the day Ludwig truly stepped out of his brother's shadow and became a nation in his own right was not a day of victory but of defeat. All this weighs heavily on him; essentially, Ludwig carries the same two-thousand burden of history his fellow Europeans do, but without the corresponding two thousand years of experience. And do his colleagues go easy on him? Of course they fucking don't. His colleagues are people like England, France, Denmark, Netherlands...they're fucking menaces is what they are, and they don't baby nobody. You can either make it or you can't, and despite being the age of these nation's children, by the simple virtue of being European Lud is expected to be able to play by "their rules" -- to know the ins and outs of ancient relationships, traditions, and beef from the Middle Ages -- the whole shebang. If America fucks up in a world meeting the Europeans will whisper "Well he's still just a child", if Ludwig fucks up in an EU meeting he has simply fucked up, period. No excuses. This is the world they grew up in, and they expect Ludwig to be able to navigate it too.

Of course, this has it perks as well. It means that unlike former colonies, Ludwig doesn't have to deal with as much constant condescension and patronization. Lud is not their child or their friend's child -- at most he is a younger brother, and by taking on the mantle of Prussia and the other German states Ludwig is automatically an equal. But there were still moments where Ludwig felt out of place. In the first few decades after the war, these mostly occurred in more relaxed, social situations -- parties, informal negotiations, the type of diplomacy that takes place over drinks and behind closed doors. This was the gentleman's club, a place where the lingering sense among old European powers that they are members of the most exclusive and desirable social group in the world was strongest. While various forces such as the EU, globalization, decolonization, and Americanization have eroded this kind of gate-keeping, there remains instances where Ludwig is sharply reminded of his age. Its often the small things -- a glance across the meeting room, an old joke, a shared memory. Maybe Ludwig hears through Gilbert that Francis is more stressed than he seems. Maybe Ned succeeds in persuading Arthur of something in private when Ludwig couldn't. Maybe he visits Austria and is surprised to see Spain is also there. Among any group of old friends there is always a sense of "us" and "them", and while Ludwig may have taken his brother's political place in Europe, socially Prussia is a kind of "us" that Ludwig will never quite achieve.

I hate to end this on such an abrupt note, but I'm afraid if I don't I will never stop talking. Thanks cake for enabling me, and if anyone wants a part two hit me up. I haven't even fucking gotten to PruAusHun yet, or all the other German siblings.