#Dacha too

[megarywrites]

find the word tag game

tagged by @thewriteflame and my words were: joke, jump, brown, bug, book

all from Seafoam

joke

Zeno murmured something, and I blinked, abandoning my racing thoughts and returning my attention  to him. “What?” 

“I said, we could get married.” 

The absurd desire to laugh nearly overcame me. He was about to speak again, but I shook my hand between us, cutting him off. “I appreciate you trying to make a joke, but is this really the time?” 

His expression contorted to an almost-grimace before it shifted into a small smile. Then, he shrugged. “Sorry.” I scrubbed my hand roughly over my face, leaning forward, slightly away from him. “It is an idea, though.” 

“Us getting married?” 

“Yeah.” 

I sniffed a quiet laugh, despite everything. “Please, we’d be miserable.”

jump

The door to [the captain]'s quarters was right up against the railing, with just the riggings swaying between me at the oar-churned ocean below. I stopped, looking into the water, my hand absently fingering the shard in my pocket as my gaze traced patterns in sea foam lining the choppy waves. I could jump. The oars might catch me. Or they might sweep me under, their turbulence keeping me below the surface until I was out of air. 

Heart stammering, I stumbled away from the railing until my back pressed into the wall. Did I actually wish for death? Or did I just want this to be over? 

Freedom. That’s all I wanted. Basate promised that; I could hold out until then. I could…

I would.

brown

It was strange. Being here. New experiences—not that I had a lot of practice with them, mind—always were strange. She sat across from me, crossing her feet beneath her and clasping her hands together in her lap. 

“What was your name, again?” 

“Solera,” she said, her grin bright white against her russet-brown features. My eyes dropped to the dimples indenting her faintly freckled cheeks. “And, I know coming here, leaving your family, it’s a bit much to take in.” I met her gaze again. “If there’s anything I can do to help you adjust, or settle, just let me know?” 

I returned her smile, however faintly, and nodded.

bug beetle

A tiny armored beetle skittered over the marble steps by my fingers, deftly avoiding them in its hurry. 

Could I have done anything to help? Would the sound of Osmari’s pleas ever stop ringing in my head? 

“Stay back,” a calm voice said, drawing near. “I’ll talk to her.”

Geros. No longer the Diamo, to me.

Solera was right. He was just another man who had done nothing to deserve my respect. 

The beetle had made it past my hand now, scurrying over the sun-warmed marble toward the shade of the pavilion until it was crushed under Geros’ sandal as he made his way to me. He hunkered beside me, his hand rubbing false comfort between my shoulders. 

“It’s disturbing, isn’t it. The lengths my children force me to go.”

book

“Be still, and accept the blessing of the gods,” he said, stepping nearer to them and laying his hand on each of their heads. When he spoke again, it was almost song-like. A chant, of sorts. In the old tongue. I knew very little of it. Just a few words. Curse words, to tell the truth. Zeno, Ismi, and I had found an old book of it in the attic of their home years ago, and that had been all we had been able to look for before Hele called us down for lunch. 

His voice resonated throughout the latridom, even after his chant had stopped. 

He lifted his hands, staggering back a step. As if he had been possessed by the gods themselves and they had suddenly left him. 

“You are now one.”

I'll tag....... @pinespittinink @flowerprose @daisywords @ashen-crest @isherwoodj and @nectargrapes (as always, no pressure!)

your words will be: purpose, plain, peer, pressure, and pain

#tag game #excerpt: seafoam #book: tss #mc: thala galanis #sc: zeno kokinos #sc: solera aurado #sc: geros kryiaku #the last one is from a wedding #and Basate if you remember from my country posts is one of the nations in Thiortha #it's a very agricultural area (they grow a lot of the crops that get transported to the other nations (namely Arnna) but #they are also the main hub for international trading as well #Kehalt is the second biggest but they ship artisan wood works around the realm #Arnna is landlocked poor baby so they don't lol and Micillo does some trading as well #Dacha too #but neither as noticeably as Basate (or Kehalt) #okay i'll stop talking about international trading now alskdjfaldfj

[magistralucis]

Hello! Can I please get a "I'm right here" for soft gop sebinsky? 🥲

"I'm right here." - Soft Gop!Sebinsky

-------------------

Ever since you moved to the dacha much about life has been easier. Even insomnia is easier. It is how you lie awake now, greeted neither by the weight of work nor pinprick blinks from the opposing apartment, the windows lighting up one by one as the neighbours begin their day. Here there is only darkness. Darkness, and blissful quiet, punctuated in tandem with yours and your lover's breathing.

But there's more out there, of course. If you choose to look.

You close your eyes for a long moment. Count the indeterminable seconds, and open them again, gazing beside you where Vincent is fast asleep. Then slowly, you rise, slipping from the covers as a page slides from an envelope.

This routine's as familiar on this floor now as it was in your city apartment. One foot then the other, from rug to slipper. Some years ago you mutually agreed to have the beds downstairs, and so as soon as you get up, the rest of the dacha is yours to explore. You look back at Vincent for a moment, tussling with the urge to stroke his silver hair or leave him be - before compromising with a gentle touch upon his shoulder, after which you depart, tiptoeing to muffle the sound as you set out on your night-journey.

Two dozen steps every way and that would've been it, back in the old apartment. Here, though, you can make it a real journey if you want.

(Do you want?)

Consider the indoors. There's the kitchen, the counters, half of a syrup loaf from the earlier afternoon. (Mixed nuts and dates, topped with demerara sugar.) The hand-carved chairs, freshly cushioned and covered by Vincent last winter. Table with papers laid out upon it. Summer comes early in these parts of the land and even in this early hour you see blue, damask blue, painting gentle dots across the floor through the sheer net curtains. They drift beneath your feet and you feel as if you're standing in the middle of the lake.

It'd be nice to go later, when it's light. You might even go fishing. What Vincent's been teaching you since last summer won't go untested.

A tiny smile drifts to your mouth. You're not conscious of those things normally, let alone in the middle of insomnia walks, where past the initial waking your senses tune towards anything but yourself. At the dacha and in the woods, though, it's hard not to be aware of those things: just about everything that's around you was here long before you came by, you are the changeable element, unlike in the city where everything shifts all the time. How good it is, then, that you have friends who change in tandem with you. Some right next door, some in the city (cities), some abroad. The last thing you did before going to bed was to draft a letter to one of them. That's the papers laid out on the table; you don't sit at it or anything, just look, tiptoeing on the wooden floor as the dawn rosy-fingered drifts between the blue and lights up the last page enough to be legible.

... to your newest exhibition. We're still waiting on L. and M. on the plans to meet them halfway, hopefully we can bring them along; autumn in Moscow is an incandescent time, and I'm counting down the days before we're all sat together again, gathered around the same table once more. Send Bob our greetings. See you both very soon.

P. S. You are probably no longer surprised to hear this, but yes: last year's bumper crop is still keeping Vinco and I fed. We're down to two jars that need to go before the strawberries comes in, but by the time this letter reaches you it might well be that time, so: might I tempt you with a jar of gooseberry jam when we come? Or two? Either of you? Let us know.

All that's left are well-wishes and the stamp. You'll take it to be posted in the morning.

(You think that like this isn't morning, functionally speaking.)

That's as far as you can go this way, unless you have business in the kitchen. You might well stop here and make tea - you've greeted Vincent that way many a time in the past, sitting quietly by the table upon the other's awakening, soft steam rising from your cup - but the dawn-light holds you back, beckons you to come join it for the time being. You step into your outdoor shoes and slip out the door.

In the single second you cross the threshold your breath streams white, then fades totally into the daybreak.

The clouds are thick above your head. Still darker than the surrounding firmament, though even as you watch you can swear it's getting lighter by the minute. The perimeters outside your garden and fence remain dense and impenetrable, but right here's the banya - the chicken coop, the hens within clucking sleepily as you tiptoe past - the quail run, the dovecote, two fishing rods propped up against the wall.

The breeze is cool. You close your eyes as it brushes your cheek, feeling as if you were never awake; it's not so much the sense you're in a dream, but that you never took shape upon this universe at all, as if you were but a distant watcher high above or sideways. You are not tired, it does not weary you. You are like a river.

How fast the time, those years gone by, rolling like raindrops off your hair.

You remember the first times Vincent brought you here. When you both came just to look around, the time Vincent turned at the gate, holding up the keys with a sunshine smile; the day you spent moving in proper, your belongings in bags and boxes and suitcases, and shared the first meal at your new home. One could argue these instances lay along a single continuity of events, but to you it felt like something new every time, even at the same site with the same house by the same person. Monotony is not a guest in your life. The joy you feel about existing, combined with those not-awake liminal moments, apply constant renewal to your moments.

This is the fifteenth year of sunflowers. You step around the dacha to examine the flowerbeds behind it: already the stems are as tall as the fence, soon to tower over your head. As you lean in you notice one of the side-buds has grown too heavy for its stalk, and has snapped it and itself sideways. Nothing unusual in the grand scheme of things, but you are thankful you saw it in good time. You gently pull the stalk free. With any luck it might bloom in a bud-vase, or it'll bask in the sun by the window, eventually to become part of a dried bouquet. They're a good way to make use of what you find in your land or the forest - that, or the various flower-crowns Vincent is fond of making for you. In midsummer you'll often find him sitting outside, taking a break for lunch or watching the birds, idly weaving the colourful stems in his large warm hands. Roses, sunflowers, berry-blossoms in pink and white.

Life is beautiful. You and your beloved are encased in it.

---

When you come back indoors you find that Vincent is awake, his hands interlocked casually behind his head. You've probably been out for over half an hour, but he has not left the bed, nor is he remotely surprised that you've been roaming: he's only borne witness to this for about three decades, after all. Perhaps he was awake from the very beginning, perhaps not, but either way he knew exactly what was up. He grins sleepily in greeting, and you smile back, crossing the room to find a bud vase for your flower. "Gone adventuring, Seba?"

"Not nearly far enough for an adventure." A trickle of water, then in the sunflower goes, many-angled sunlight dancing within the glass. "Did I wake you?"

"No, but when I woke up you were gone." Vincent turns to lie on his side, his gaze softening. "I missed you."

Something vast and golden blossoms in your heart. You look at Vincent, unable to hold back your smile, the sort that feels almost like the precipice of tears; it's such a simple thing, to be missed when you are absent, another thing you are always surprised to feel. Nobody made you feel like that when you lived alone - a period that objectively wasn't long, and has been thrice outcompeted by the life you spent by Vincent's side - and that is the feeling that anchors you fully to the waking world again, as it has done so many times before.

"Well, no longer, I hope." You say, and slip carefully back into bed at once. Your body is cool from the outdoors, and for a moment you think your lover might not like that, only to be proven incorrect when he wraps you happily in the covers. "I'm right here, Vinco. I haven't gone away."

#prompt fill #drabble #soft gopnik sebinsky #hoping you can see this soon my friend! i have seen you were anticipating the warm weather and wanted to depict something around it #it's been a very long time since i wrote about seba's insomnia moments too #this is quite some years beyond even the general 'future' posts of this au... middle aged men in love and still at peace at the dacha #💖💖💖💖💖 #i am sorry this took so long 😭 i haven't been able to write much at all this week due to the goings-on of the house #but this lunchtime all the visitors went back home and i finished this in two hours. such is life

[jellybeansmud]

looking at how much pain im in and how many dishes i need to wash before leaving it seems like ill get home only by the evening. i dont want to leave them dirty for my grandparents to have to wash them when they visit the dacha next week but also my arms are so bad today.

also someone passed by and told me there's a meeting with local administration right now but i totally do not have enough strength in my legs to go there and stand for an hour and then be able to go home too. even if its something important i just dont have the energy.

being ill sucks so much you cant even imagine it. painkillers barely even fucking help with the pain they just make my limbs weaker </3 feeling like it is worth it to chop off my fucking arm so i could get disability support </3

#mud babbles #...not actually goung to do that but its tempting at this point. im not doing great with having to work while in horrible pain 24/7 #ive ordered a foldable chair so i could at least sit down at times when im feeling really bad but its not enough help for my body. #its still going to be in pain no matter what i do. and somehow its 'not a disability' and 'everyone has scoliosis' and 'everyones tired' #goddammit if this is normal them im fucking mozart. in what fucking world this is normal. #also starting to call my summerhouse dacha bc it is too many letters. and it is a dacha in russian not a summerhouse #english doesnt have an analogue for this word as far as im aware and summerhouse is the closest thing to it

[atom-writings]

hiii can i request russia, canada, germany and greece seeing their s/o wearing their clothes for the first time? good luck on ur finals :D !!

hetalia russia, canada, germany, and greece seeing their s/o wear their clothes

1.0k words ~ gender neutral headcanons / scenarios

tw: none!

a/n: holy shit tthis request is so old that its a new finals season :sob: guys im trying. ALSO idk how to write greece. but hopefully its ok

Russia

Ivan wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you wore his clothing. Like, he just never expected anyone to ever… want to do that?

Plus, if you’re any shorter than 6’ 5”, his clothes are more like blankets than anything wearable.)

Mornings at Ivan's house were always cold. His dacha had been built long before the invention of home heating systems, and he had always refused to modernize anything he owned.

So, when you finally woke up, you grabbed one of Ivan's jackets to keep yourself warm while you made breakfast. It was huge, on him and you, and lined with fur from animals killed centuries ago.

The house was quiet aside from the quiet sizzling of an egg on a pan. Or at least, it was until you heard the dull thuds drawing closer behind you.

In an instant, Ivan wrapped his firm arms around you, picking you up off the floor for a second.

“G-Good morning to you too,” You tease him softly. All he responds with is a quiet grunt, muffled as he buries his face in your hair.

“Should I make you something too?”

He shook his head, “You are too perfect to be cooking right now...”

“Aww, Ivan...”

”Please wear things like this more often...“ He mumbled, seemingly embarrassed.

”What, your things? Should I steal more jackets?“

“Yes... please...“ He said, and you could feel his smile, even if you couldn't see it.

He just can't get enough of you wearing his stuff. He thinks it makes you two look like a real couple. Then everyone will know that you're his (:

Canada

From the start of your relationship, Matthew had been trying to subtly coerce you into wearing his clothes. It's like, one of his main relationship goals.

So if you did it without him asking, his brain would fry.

“D-Dear, what are you- a-are you...?” Matthew's shaking voice makes it way past your earbuds, which you promptly rip out.

You turn away from your desk to face him, and his face immediately lights up.

”Sorry, I- I didn't have an-“ Is all you sputter out before you're interrupted by a hug that sends you tumbling backwards. He's warm as he curls around you, resting his head in the crook of your neck.

”Oh. Uh-”

“W-Wait, sorry... I- I didn't mean to um-”

“You're f-”

“No- I mean-” He pulls away, letting go of you completely.

“Math-”

“Sorry!”

“MATTHEW,” You finally manage to break him out of his stuttering state, “It's fine.”

He averts his gaze as he stands before you, awkwardly playing with his hoodie cuffs, ”I- I just really think you're um- cute in that...“

”Matt, it's just a hoodie.“

”Yeah but it- it has um... that...“ He points to the maple leaf pattern covering the hoodie. That makes you pause, looking up at him like he said something weird.

“It's just leaves.”

His cheeks immediately turn the same shade as the leaves on his hoodie, ”W-Well! It's better than stars and stripes!“

Seriously, anything that shows that you're showing him over America will make him go crazy.

Germany

Ludwig doesn't have a lot of casual clothes, so you're kind of limited in your “stealing t-shirts for pyjamas” options

And sorry to disappoint, but his stoic demeanour isn't getting majorly cracked even by that.

It was a rare occurrence for Ludwig to let you do anything around the house. He cooked the meals, he cleaned the dishes, he did most of the laundry, and the sweeping, mopping, and literally any other task that had to be done. So, in a moment you thought would never come, you were actually excited to be doing the dishes for him.

But, because of his disaster of a “modern, ergonomic” sink, that meant getting water all over your shirt. And seeing how you were wearing something nice for a date night with him, you only had one choice. Throwing on one of his torn and faded old t-shirts.

After a few minutes of washing the dishes alone, Ludwig took his place beside you, leaning against the counter and watching you intently.

“Yes?“ You prompt him, and he immediately looks a little embarrassed.

”Thanks for doing this.“

”You do this every night, so like, it's fine?“

”Y-Yes, but, I still appreciate it.“ He tells you quickly, before placing a hang on your shoulder. You turn off the water for a moment, plunging the kitchen into silence again.

Before you could register it, you were pulled closer to him. 

“You should wear my things more often…” He mumbled before leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Buy more normal person clothes then.”

Then he pulled away with a groan, “OK, the moment is over.”

Greece

Heracles probably didn't even notice until you said something. Anytime he's looking at you, your clothes are the last thing he registers.

”Oh, wait... uh- sorry,“ You blurt out once you look down and remember what you're wearing, ”I forgot to ask if I could...“

He looks over you as your hands fidget with the hem of his oversized t-shirt. The design said something in Greek, but all you could make out were the words ”FOOD“ and ”CATS” (It was more important that it was comfortable than stylish.) For his part, he looked completely disinterested in whatever you were saying.

“If you could what?” Heracles asks, his tone dry and tired.

“If I could wear your shirt...”

“Oh,” Then he glances over your direction, barely looking over his tea, ”Yes, I see that now.“

”Do you... care?“

”No.“ He says as if what you had just asked was as obvious as the colour of the sky. Despite that, it didn't seem to bother or excite him in the slightest.

He might find it a little amusing when his clothes don't fit you, but generally he doesn't care. He believes strongly in the idea that ”What's his is yours, and what's yours is his.“

Because of that, he'll steal your clothes too. And he might rip them. Oops.

#heta tag #hetalia x reader #hetalia imagines #ivan tag <3 #aph russia x reader #hws russia x reader #matthew tag #aph canada x reader #hws canada x reader #ludwig tag #aph germany x reader #hws germany x reader #aph greece x reader #hws greece x reader #heracles tag

[bosetsu]

Please tell us more about Russian train trip culture? We're constantly inundated by references to American road trip culture, but I know nothing about this and you got me curious!

I love to talk trains! So thanks for asking. Anyway. So I've got to preface that it's a bit more Soviet than Russian. And I am Muscovite so it comes with certain privileges. Russia/USSR is much more big on trains than on cars and planes. Not a lot of people had cars (though there was a whole other culture around cars). Air travel is more expensive and isn't easily available for a lot of towns/cities even now. (Especially now everything is ..ah interesting). We have two main type of trains. Short-distance electric trains or elektrichka. It's the one you take if you are going to a next town or if you go to your dacha (country house). Well, they are short-distanced FOR RUSSIA, I think they are supposed to be up to 200 km and no more. Elektrichkis are a bit dying everywhere except Moscow - we have integrated train systems into metro system now, and it's really cool, and I like it. There is a whole life happening while you ride. Like this

It can be quite nostalgic, but I still shudder after remembering riding with my granma every Sunday from dacha in a really crowded train where you get in by people shoving you inside and hoping not to suffocate. Fun time. Anyway. Do you know street musicians? Meet train musicians

Also meet every seller in a world with all kind of stuff from children toys to food. Meet one woman with a chicken, crowd of old women with motherfucking trees, African band and this three drunk philosophical guys with vodka bottle and pickles. It's a must. There are much more nice fast electric trains, but they are more rare and not that spectacular. Most famous book about elektrichka is Soviet book Moscow-Petushki about this guy on a journey trying to see I think his son in Petushki town. Spoiler: it doesn't end well. And also we have long-distance trains. Well. Russia is sort of kind of big. So you can spend days in a train just living your life having long chats with your neighbors, so it's strongly features in our movies/books/songs etc. Longest one is obviously Trans-Siberian Railway with it's length of 9000+ km. I don't think that a lot of Russians ever rode it the whole way though. I am not sure, it's a bit of a challenge. You absolutely must pay for a tea in a train because you get this glass with tumbler. It's ultimate train thing. This and chatting with neighbors.

Also there is a whole train food thing. You can buy instant ramen or go to restaurant car or something. But stereotypical train food is fried chicken and couple of hard-boiled eggs. And piroshki bought on a nearest train stop. Why? I am not even sure. It's not like chicken is known for keeping fresh without refrigerator. I was thinking about including train road map, but it's too big, so you get Moscow trains (lines that are governed by Moscow)

#trains #long post #sorry not rereading this so this text is going to be like that

[benslittlestarkiller]

Vladimir Makarov HeadCannon Imagines

Part 4, but you don't have to read Part 1 and Part 2 to understand.

Description: Vladimir takes you on vacation to Ibiza.

🔥

The sun sets once more, this time on a foreign land. You're standing on the balcony of Vladimir's new house, which overlooks a small beach.

The air is still and quiet, the only sound being the gentle lapping of water against the shore. You look over at Vladimir, who is sitting on a lounge chair with a book in his hands.

"Vladdy," you say softly, "are you enjoying your holiday?"

Vladimir has Private Jet, a Boeing 757

"Vladdy I want you," you whisper as the maid hands you a glass of champagne and hands Vladimir glass of Vodka

Vladimir only drink Vodka, no water or amuthing else

Tou. Run your babd down his arm I n swducrio n

"Ooh, habt we can't right now the kids are watching" he gestures at Vladimir Jr (Vladimir Vladimirovich) and Mikhail aka Misha named after the beat in Olympic

They were sitting is seat of plane earing thir fa vourite snack caviar with crackers. Even as toddler and baby with no teeth to chew solid food they love caviar and crack

ER. You pulled out apple iPad tablet and hand 2 of them to kids, they immediayely start watching Peepe Pug.

Famous caton crom brita

You look vladdy with seductive look winking an eye to hint at him thatyou went him

)plese vladdy... I need you know...Need your cuck inside me....me tsarina parts aching for u" you said in a breathless whisper.

Vladimir sighed and placed down his bottle of vodka. "Very well, then," he said exasperatedly.

"Let us go to the bathroom" he said too

He led ou to bahtroom I n airplain in sky

As it flew to island house he owned

V the

His hand was big on yours, bigger and he was strong, manly virole you couldn't wait to get him inside of your

Tight HULL

He pushed you into the luxury bathroom of his privyet jet

Bathroom was luxor y with Guccih towel and carpet, Louiss vutton toilet and bath set and Armani toilet papers, he push you up against toilwt desperate for you like a man sesperate to devour a bowl of fresh borsht, still steaming after babusha make as she dollop fresh yogurt from cow ontop. Hearty and filling, the scent wafting through the house as gentle music plays from the shoetwave radio in the distance, ND from the television set plays an old cartoon as Vladimir sits in his high chair in Babushka's dacha while baba herself sings an old Russian song to her baby grandson whom she love very much.

The wet sounds of his fingers pumpkin into goir tight height sounded jn the wchoing bathroom and soon he was down on his knees sucking your clit and fucking the hol with 3 fingees as you grabb hair, nearly exposing his receeding hairline.

You manned louldy like cow being milked for fresh yogurt at Babushka's dacha farm house for three borschtt,

Vladir tongue worships your pink petals and tught hole. (You taste so good.. like Russian tea cake, to him)

Amber scream I n ectasy like the sound of alarm durong nuclear attack in Cold Wars

Just before hou about to ascend to the heavenly plane if exustan e vladmir stop.

You whine jn frustration.., please don't stopp you SAY IN VOICE

He smirks up st you as ue brush stubble chin ahaindt soft skin thigh. You shiver st the sensations it illicits through you. Your hole needy clench down on NOTHING

Ple I se you man ed"

Vladimir Makarov was born on April 1st and was involved in various crimes such as human trafficking and the muffled sounds of fellow prisoners offers a discordant lullaby of the other guards taking advantage of her and make her his very own ends or to protect User

[Sprry fuys cat steal phone-?] And then little brother Bobby

Vladim unzip her panrs r dping the m wide open for all to see legs spread pussy open to the wplrld. He look into h9le. "Mmm needy hitl?" He asks.

"Only for you daddy" she said

?*Say it again," he say rouhly his voice

"Daddy please 🙏 "

/^÷, he pullsout giant coke and shoves it inside

It stretc h your hole wider than ak_47

He was an aries

Sound rught

Thrusting hard and fast, he grips your hips in his bruising grip, his fingers leaving indentations in your plush flesh. His chest heaved with exertion and he suddenly held himself still inside you, gasping as he nearly came undone from the single thrust alone. Your body was an addiction, one that he couldn't kick. Like the most potent tobacco, he savored you, all the little sounds you made, the softness of your skin, the warmth of you around him. Tenderly, you embraced him, winding your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer. He buried his nose in your neck, breathing in your scent as he left lingering kisses along your pulsepoint.

He you moo louder hnd louder

"Oh Vladdy, pleade don tstop!! I want toy uo to cume inside of me, please I want to make a third baby!!!"

He loo a you the look in your eyes looked as beautiful as the skies

He could not resist, he would surely persist

To come inside your fertile hole, was his most passionate goal

"I won't stop, my love, don't you worry," Your Vladdy says as he comes undone in a flurry.

His virile seed filled you up, it was like vodka in cup

Spurts of creamy white goo flowed from him and into you

It was wonderful, it was right, as he filled you up all night

Nine months later the two of you eagerly await the birth of baby three on February 23rd, a wonderful date.

Little baby Princess Anastasia was the apple of her papa's blue /brown eye

She was so dear to him it broke his heart to say bye

He was going to prison

The was

Next chapter w8ll be Conjugal visit

#vladimir makarov x reader #vladimir makarov imagine #call of duty #vladimir makarov #cod x reader #call of duty imagine #vladimir makarov art #makarov x reader #cod makarov #call of duty makarov #og makarov #vladimir makarov reboot

[sovietpostcards]

Do you have any memories of what life was like in Russia during the 1990s (or stories from older people if you were too young)? I found out last year just how bad things were at that time, and I was horrified and angry, not just that conditions were allowed to deteriorate to that extent, but that the US media glossed it over as being worth it for “freedom.” I took a class on modern Russia as an undergraduate and what happened after the collapse of the USSR was just never mentioned.

I was a child/teen in the 90s. My parents shielded me from most of the awfulness, so I was just a kid with a whole lot of new exciting stuff coming out. The first commercials on TV (Stimorol, TV Park, Bank Imperial), Coca Cola and chocolate bars (we bought one Snickers bar for our family of 5 and divided it carefully), Santa Barbara.

I also remember that it didn't feel safe. When leaving the car, my dad would always take the side mirror and windshield wipers so that they wouldn't be stolen. Car lock was double and triple checked every time. Our dacha (summer cottage) was robbed several times so eventually adults stopped keeping anything remotely of worth there and locking the house at all - lest the door be broken down. Harvests were also sometimes stolen. Another thing from dacha I remember very well is the abundance of poppies we always had. I thought they just grew there naturally (they were very pretty), but later I found out that they were sowed by local junkies who later came around to collect seed pods.

Everyone I've ever talked to about the 90s who were adults at the time say it was the worst time. There was no money, no food in stores, no anything. People had to outright survive. Dachas were the hugest help in that, so everyone who had a patch of land would grow vegetables, get chickens etc. Even in the city, land patches by the houses were often used for that. I remember a few houses down the street where I lived kept chickens and goats in a boarded area behind the houses. (Note that houses were not private property, they held 10+ families.)

I had to wear ugly men's shoes as a teen because girl's shoes in size 40-41 were simply impossible to find.

My mother and father both worked at a state research institute and they didn't get any pay for months. My mom had a side hustle selling books that she bought from village book shops (hello state distribution), my father repaired cars and occasionally did long trips to the South to bring nuts, fruit and seed oil that could be sold here. I don't think I truly know the extent of what they had to do to raise two children in the 90s.

90s in Russia were absolute chaos.

[marquise-onion]

#homestuck #feferi peixes #nepeta leijon #fanart

[trashlama]

Master List

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

Here's the official hodge-podge of all my current and up coming works. All nice and categorized for you guys~

I take request!

Though you must understand I'm an adult. I have a life and job I must attend too so, be patient with me. I'll try my best to fulfill requests as fast as I can.

Anyways—

Here's some stuff I won't do.

Underage

Non/con

Incest

Vore

Infantile shit

General hateful shit

Beastiality

Things I do accept!

Yandere (Romantic & Platonic)

Fluff

He/She/Gender neutral

LGBTQ+

Drawing requests

One-shots/Drabbles/Headcanons

X Reader or shippings. Depends tho sometimes.

Fandoms!

TMNT (All Media Types)

Journey to the West/Monkie Kid(All Media Types)

Spiderverse

Seven Bloody Nights Revamped

Murder Drones

The Amazing Digital Circus

Invincible

FNAF(All Games)

Hobbit/LOTR/ROP

Adventure Time/Fionna and Cake

MHA

One Punchman

Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack & Dacha Bo (Snaccpop Studios)

How to Train Your Dragon(HTTYD Movies & TV series)

Unicorn Warriors Eternal

Bee & Puppycat

Gargoyles

Transformers (All Media Types)

Villianous

Xiaolin Showdown(OG only, aged up characters only!)

RoR(Record of Ragnarok)

Undertale

Pucca(Drawings Only)

Sonic The Hedgehog (All Media Types)

American Dragon Jake Long(Aged up!)

Secret Saturdays(Platonic Only, unless aged up)

TrollHunters(Just the first one, not the below one or Wizards. I'm just not that far.)

Red vs. Blue(kinda all over the place)

Randy Cunningham 9th Grade Ninja

Sonic the Hedgehog(All Media Types)

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure(All arcs)

Team Fortress 2

The Hatchet Man

Your Boyfriend

Some Slashers(Tho list multiple because it depends on a few.)

Dead by Daylight

General themes(Just throw something out there like Zombie apocalypse or edo period Jack the Ripper. Somethin')

Idk what else yet. Most of my ideas I come across that inspire me or I just randomly think of it while smokin'.

Just ask if you're not sure

I do not accept trolling on this page! You will be blocked if you do so.

The same thing goes with minors. Please you guys! Please put your ages in your bios! My stuff isn't super gorey or smutty but, I'd feel better knowing who my audience is. A lot of my stuff is pretty mature.

All my stuff is just fanart/fanfiction don't take it seriously. I own nothing but, my imagination.

Now what you guys all been looking forward too...

The Complication!

Enjoy!

∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆∆

SONG LISTS

(Multiple fandoms)

- List 1

Written Works

RECORD OF RAGNAROK(ROR)

Jack the Ripper

- Part 1: Unwanted

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2012(TMNT2k12)

- Yan/Non-Yan!Raph/Reader Petname scenario

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles(ROTTMNT)

Random Headcanons/Drabbles/One-Shots

- Platonic Yan!Raph & Reader

- Future!Yan!Mikey/Chubby!Reader

- Mikey Vs. Leo (xReader Scenarios)

- Yan/Non-Yan!Raph/Reader Petname scenario

- Donnie/Big Mama Assistant(Reader)

YANDERE FUTURE TURTLES ONE-SHOT SERIES

Based on this prompt

This post can explain more

Leonardo

- Part 1: The Ballet

- Part 2: Changing lanes

Donatello

- Part 1: Unyielding

Raphael

- Part 1:(Coming Soon)

Michelangelo

- Part 1:(Coming Soon)

YANDERE ROTTMNT ADULTS ONE-SHOT SERIES

Based on this prompt

Big Mama

– Part 1: (Coming Soon)

Draxum

– Part 1: (Coming Soon)

Splinter

– Part 1: (Coming Soon)

Lou Jitsu(Hamato Yoshi)

– Part 1: (Coming Soon)

SPIDERVERSE

Random Headcanons/Drabbles/One-Shots

- Yan Miguel O'Hara x Reader plot ideas

Original Works

- Part 1: Denied

Drawings(Mostly Sketches)!!

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles(ROTTMNT)

- Mad Dog Group test run sketch (Just the faces)

- Leo doodle with mutated s/o

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles 2012(TMNT2k12)

A-Team Vs. B-Team

- Rough Draft

- Outline

- Color testing

-Color Testing/Final Outline(?)

Journey to the West(All Media Types)

- LMK and Monkey King Reborn Sketches

- Remake Monkey King Sketch

- LMK Monkey form MK x Reader sketches

Something's Wrong with Sunny Day Jack / DachaBoo (Snaccpop Studios)

Jack/Joseph

- 1#

- 2#

- 3#

- 4#

Ian

- 1#

- 2#

- 3#

Shaun

- 1#

Dacha Bo

- 1#

- 2#

My Dear Hatchetman

Alan

- 1#

#fanart #male yandere #yandere #something's wrong with sunny day jack #yandere x reader #sdj x reader #yandere rottmnt #yandere tmnt #my dear hatchet man #your boyfriend #ror #record of ragnarok #peter x reader #orignal work #master list #dachabo #dachaboo #alan x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #yandere rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #randy cunningham 9th grade ninja #monkie kid #journey to the west #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #security breach #slashers #dead by deadlight #trollhunters #team fortress 2

[merrymorningofmay]

idk, i’ve been trying to pen an account of my extremely, extremely mild War Experiences and every time i gave up in the end because it was a psychological horror more than anything, and how do you recap a psychological horror story except for those who already know what you mean

a year ago my family and i took our backpacks and fled from kyiv (maybe forever, we thought) to wait things out at our dacha.

in hindsight, it was a dumb thing to do, but oh well, it was baby’s first genocide. in hindsight, our dacha is in bucha district, but we wouldn’t learn what that meant until after we returned to kyiv.

our dacha is not in a village, really – it’s surrounded by other land plots and summer houses, and those are empty for most of the year, and they were empty in those days, too. it was just us, away from the highway, away from people (and whenever some people would walk past, eyeing our car and lit-up windows, it was frightening, too – are they robbers making use of the chaos? are they russians in disguise? are they locals who support russia?)

there were explosions all day and night (in hindsight, air defense, but again, baby’s first genocide), sometimes across the forest, sometimes so close our windows were shaking. in theory, we thought, nobody would waste missiles on such a nothing place with no people. in practice, we knew, russians don’t care. and if they had decided to drop a bomb or two on that spot, we would have no basement to take cover and no siren to warn us.

it was cold a year ago. our house has no heating, but it does have a fireplace. it took about three days to make the one room we were spending our days and nights in warm enough for me to take off my hat and one of my sweaters. 

my dad kept himself busy chopping firewood outside. my mom kept herself busy tending to the fire. my sister and i were obsessively trying to monitor the news with what little mobile internet we had.

we had food, but nobody ate. we had each other, but nobody talked, each of us absent, in their own head. every hour or so my best friend and i would check up on each other in twitter DMs – she was in kharkiv, in a crammed bomb shelter all day round, children screaming, adults freaking out, all that. we did not talk in between these check ups, either, but just hearing “i’m alright, you?” was more comfort than my silent mother sitting beside. 

i wanted someone to tell me it would be okay, and for the first time in my life i knew nobody in the world could tell me that and mean it.

i wanted to be in a bomb shelter with screaming kids and freaking out adults.

on the first or second night, i saw a dream that was full of light and joy. i don’t remember a thing about it otherwise. then i woke up freezing in the middle of nowhere, in a country that could have been dead or alive for all i knew.

we didn’t know how close russians were at any given moment, if the land we were on was occupied or not. we didn’t know if we should leave or stay. we knew if russians saw us, we would be killed, and i knew if russians saw my pretty sister and me, we would be raped, and then killed. we knew that if we were to drive anywhere, we would have to pass checkpoints. if the soldiers at those checkpoints were ukrainian, would they take our car for the army, would they take my dad away to draft him? (they would not – again, in hindsight). our dad wanted to stay, the rest of us wanted to leave. we waited for about a week until the explosions became somewhat less frequent. then we got into the car, argued some, and left.

out of our empty non-village and onto the empty road, then onto the empty highway.

when we reached the first checkpoint, i saw a ukrainian flag flickering in the wind.

if you live anywhere in the west, can tell you this: you have not truly seen the flag of your country once.

#mari rambles

[alexridersecretsanta]

The Great Reveal!

Today is the day to lift the anonymity of the authors! We hope you had fun reading all the Yalex goodness, here come the authors reveal:

A Spark of Magic by LastlyMatt for Myulalie (T, 5k) Alex is dragged back after years to finish what he started. Scorpia wants to reawaken the vampire Julia Rothman, and it's up to Alex to do it. During this, he reunites with Yassen, who tries to help him one more time. Inflection Point by Kelkblr for RavenJames (T, 7,5K) There are moments that change your life, moments where you might have made a different decision and taken a different path. A routine mission takes an unexpected turn, giving Alex an opportunity to take advantage of one such moment.

Somebody To Die For by RavenJames for LastlyMatt (M, 5K) The legends are true. They are just not what we expect them to be. Entangled in a strange enemies-with-benefits relationship with Yassen, Alex has an assignment to keep the man under close surveillance. He doesn’t know that things might get even more complicated.

The Right Touch by Strange_Soulmates for countessrivers (E, 3K) Lieutenant Yassen Gregorovich of the ISB spends enough time stalking Rebel Agent Alex Rider in real life. Alex just wishes the man could stop stalking his dreams as well. He has no idea just how accurate the idea of Yassen "stalking his dreams" is. All things are possible through the force, after all. A birthday Surprise by Sigma for kelkblr (E, 35K) When Tom informs him that he's hired a stripper for Alex's 18th birthday party, he wasn't quite expecting what he received. Yassen Gregorovich wasn't quite expecting the hurricane that was Alex Rider either.....it remained to be seen which one of them ended up more surprised....Alex Rider Yalex - somewhat AU. Alex and Yassen have never met before in this. The Last Job by fredbassett for kelkblr (T, 4K) When a close personal protection job ends in disasterous failure an injured Alex has to survive a freezing night and even colder encounter with his former lover.

Alex Rider 2024 by DarlingNikki for greenkite (shirohyasha) (E, 14K) Time moves on and Alex is no longer a scared fourteen year old swimming completely out of his depth. Almost twenty-five years have passed and the world is a completely different place with changes he’d thought were pure sci-fi are just boring reality now. Or Alternatively, Alex gets his retirement from MI6, but too bad they think he's a disposable pawn that's the prefect guinea pig for testing some dodgy new tech, and ends up with a very familiar ghost living under his skin. A Cyberpunk 2077 inspired AU/fusion that's also a prequel for the game technically, but 100% blind readable.

tissue culture by greenkite (shirohyasha) for Polarnacht (n/r, 3,5K) He's not in the dacha. He knows every centimetre of that house, and the dark, cold room he woke up in isn't in it. Alex goes to rescue Yassen from the mad scientists of the week. He finds more than expected.

Dangerous Tastes by Myulalie for turtle_snail (E, 14k) After a failed assassination attempt during his horse ride around the property, Alex gets a bodyguard against his will. He keeps flirting with danger from then on, even at the risk of getting his heart broken.

Spare the Rod by countessrivers for TheOtherBlue (E, 4,5k) Alex goes tAlex gets caught trying to escape from Point Blanc. Mr. Gregorovich handles the punishment.

Devil in Disguise by Polarnacht for DarlingNikki (E, 7K) Alex is sent to break into Yassen’s house and retrieve important documents. He discovers more than he ever bargained for.

Collateral by Rirren for Strange_Soulmates (E, 12k) Alex was asked to come in to speak to an imprisoned Yassen. He didn't know he was signing up for 24 hours of hell. Like A Delicate, Dangerous Desire by turtle_snail for Sigma (E, 5k) There was something so serene to look down at Alex like this, and the wide expression of uncertainties etched on Alex’s face. It was akin to ambrosia. A delicate desire that only Yassen could enjoy. “Maybe I should teach you a lesson… about what happens to apprentices who misbehave.” Alex didn’t respond, instead whatever fear was present in Alex’s eyes morphed into determination. It was a look that was so characteristically Alex.

Who By Brave Assent by TheOtherBlue for Rirren (E, 6,5k) When Yassen is offered a sixteen-year-old Alex for the night, he has no choice but to accept. He has never enjoyed sleeping with strangers as part of his work, but Alex is no stranger... Vastly Different Things by Myulalie&Polarnacht for fredbassett (T, 4k) Alex almost gets tossed from a helicopter into a river in Chile, and spends some quality time with a certain assassin.

We hope you enjoyed the event, reading & commenting and guessing! How many did you guess right? Happy Yalex holidays to everyone!

#admin #alex rider #yassen gregorovich #yalex #fic exchange #fandom event #secret santa #alex rider secret santa

[foreverinthepagesofhistory]

Grand Duchess Olga Nikolaevna with her friend and fellow Sister of Mercy (nurse) Margarita “Rita” Khitorovo, Evpatoria Crimea 1916

“Monday, 16th May. “…In the afternoon went to Anya’s dacha . Rita was there too. Sat on a marvelous beach near the sea, hunted for seashells. Had tea on her balcony. Returned at 6 o’clock…”

— Diary of Grand Duchess Tatiana Nikolaevna

Bonus! Hand tinted version by one of OTMA

#olga nikolaevna #Margarita khitorovo #rita khitorovo #grand duchess olga #crimea #evpatoria #1916 #tatiana nikolaevna #otma #romanov #1916 diary #diary entry

[trofysisters]

Надя

Надя хотела дачу на Канарах, большие деньги и ласки Ксан Ксаныча, а не это всё. (Nadya wanted a dacha in the Canary Islands, a lot of money and the caresses of Ksan Ksanych, and not what she had now)

Как бы Левон ни старался, но в комнате продолжали ощущаться запахи от детского горшка и молочной смеси, что сильно раздражало Надю. (No matter how hard Levon tried, the smells from the baby potty and milk formula continued to be felt in the room, which greatly irritated Nadya.

Поскольку Надя не занималась сыном, Левону приходилось учить Антона разговаривать и ходить. (Since Nadia did not take care of her son, Levon had to teach Anton to talk and walk)

Естественно, что на работу Левон шел измотанным, и ни о каком повышении речи быть не могло. (Naturally, Levon went to work exhausted, and there could be no question of any promotion)

А Надя всё чаще задумывалась, нужен ли ей такой неудачник, ведь рядом столько успешных и сильных мужчин: например, занудный коллега по работе, которого она каждый вечер звала к себе домой. Всё равно муж работает в это время. (And Nadia more and more often wondered if she needed such a loser, because there were so many successful and strong men nearby: for example, a boring work colleague whom she called to her house every evening. Anyway, her husband works at this time)

В конце концов, Левон сам виноват в том, что его нет рядом в важные для Нади моменты. Сегодня Надя праздновала свой День рождения и осознала, как скоротечна ее жизнь. (In the end, Levon himself is to blame for the fact that he is not around at important moments for Nadia. Today Nadia celebrated her birthday and realized how fleeting her life is)

Она собиралась кинуться в объятия коллеги, чтобы почувствовать себя желанной и любимой, но тот испугался, что Наде стало плохо, предложил ей прилечь и вызвать скорую, а сам быстро ее покинул. (She was going to throw herself into the arms of a colleague to feel desired and loved, but he was frightened that Nadya became ill, suggested that she lie down and call an ambulance, and he quickly left her)

Тогда Надя пригласила к себе Ксан Ксаныча, но тот был поражен, увидев вместо шикарной женщины старушку. Кроме того, невовремя вернулся Левон с работы и чуть не застал измену. К счастью, Левон был слишком наивен, чтобы подозревать супругу в неверности. (Then Nadia invited Ksan Ksanych to her place, but he was amazed to see an old woman instead of a gorgeous woman. In addition, Levon returned from work and almost caught treason. Fortunately, Levon was too naive to suspect his wife of infidelity)

По реакции своих бывших поклонников Надя поняла, что во внешности нужно что-то менять, поэтому отправилась в салон красоты. (According to the reactions of her former fans, Nadia realized that something needed to be changed in her appearance, so she went to a beauty salon)

Мастер не был волшебником, но постарался преобразить Надю. (The master was not a magician, but he tried to transform Nadia)

Надев свою любимое платье, Надя почувствовала себя достаточно обаятельной и привлекательной, чтобы продолжить завоевывать мужские сердца. (Wearing her favorite dress, Nadia felt charming and attractive enough to continue to win men's hearts)

Вот только на следующий день пока она была на работе у нее угнали автомобиль. Пришлось возвращаться домой на попутке. (But the next day, while she was at work, her car was stolen. She had to return home in a passing car)

Занудный коллега вновь увязался за Надей, но всё его внимание было приковано к Антону: - У кого тут такие длинные ушки? Вкусные хрустящие ушки!  (The boring colleague again followed Nadya, but all his attention was riveted on Anton: - Who has such long ears? Delicious crispy ears!)

После таких разговоров малыш не мог долго уснуть и не отпускал от себя папу, боясь страшного дядю. (After such conversations, the baby could not fall asleep for a long time and did not let his dad go, being afraid of a terrible man)

Предыдущая семья - Ранее - Продолжение 

#sims 2 #Devchata #nadya

[notwiselybuttoowell]

On an unseasonably warm day in October, the silence outside broken by birdsong and artillery fire, Olga Goncharova sat in her office on the ground floor of the Kherson Regional Museum, a bulletproof vest wrapped around the back of her chair, the windows covered with plywood, and cursed the Russians. “They’re vandals, the people who did this,” she said.

Ms Goncharova escaped from Kherson, in southern Ukraine, in the spring of 2022, shortly after Russian troops poured into the city. By the time she returned, in November that year, Kherson had been liberated. The Russians had evacuated to the other bank of the Dnieper river, from which they have been bombing the city ever since. Ms Goncharova wept when she entered the museum where she had worked for over two decades. “There was broken glass everywhere,” she says. “They had torn some of the exhibits out.”

In fact Russian officials, assisted by local collaborators and the museum’s then-director, had removed more than 28,000 artefacts, loaded them onto lorries and shipped them to Crimea, illegally annexed by Russia in 2014. Gone were the ancient coins, the Greek sculptures, the Scythian jewellery, a precious Bukhara sabre—and even the hard drives containing the museum’s catalogue. Three decades ago, Ms Goncharova says, the museum recovered a collection of Gothic bronzes looted by German occupiers during the second world war. Now the Russians have stolen them.

Since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in February 2022, the loss of life and suffering in Ukraine has been great. Many of its museums have been plundered, too. The country’s ministry of culture estimates that over 480,000 artworks have fallen into Russian hands. At least 38 museums, home to nearly 1.5m works, have been damaged or destroyed.

Ukrainian officials have also sent a number of collections to other parts of Europe to protect them from Russian bombs. These include dozens of Ukrainian paintings from the early 20th century, on display at the Royal Museums of Fine Arts in Brussels before travelling to Vienna and London. When the evacuated treasures will return to Ukraine is unclear.

Artists have not been spared either. Ms Goncharova points to a painting of dried flowers and pottery that hangs opposite her desk. The artist, Vyacheslav Mashnytskyi, from Kherson, went missing after Russian troops turned up at his riverside dacha and requisitioned his boat. Friends who stopped by the house days later found traces of blood. Mr Mashnytskyi has not been heard from since.

Putting a price on the stolen works is nearly impossible, since only a fraction had been appraised for insurance purposes. Last April the un estimated that the war had caused $2.6bn-worth of damage to Ukraine’s cultural heritage. That now seems to be a conservative figure. Tracking what the Russians have looted is also a headache. Many Ukrainian museums, especially smaller regional ones, had relied on paper catalogues, often outdated or incomplete, says Mariana Tomyn, an official at the culture ministry. Some of those catalogues have now gone. Efforts to digitise inventories, which began only three years ago, have taken on a new urgency.

Ukraine will seek redress. Prosecutors in Kyiv are investigating Russian officials and Ukrainians involved in the plunder. Mrs Tomyn is working on a new restitution law and the overhaul of an outdated one on the protection of cultural heritage. And since late October a special army unit has begun to monitor damage to cultural sites. But there is little hope of recovering what the occupiers have stolen. Russian officials will ship Ukrainian collections stored in Crimea to Russia if Ukraine retakes the peninsula, says Vyacheslav Baranov, an archaeologist at Ukraine’s National Academy of Sciences.

There have been some breakthroughs. On November 26th, after a long court battle, hundreds of historical treasures from Crimea were returned to Ukraine from the Netherlands. The collection, which includes Scythian gold carvings from the fourth century bc, had been on display at the Allard Pierson Museum in Amsterdam in 2014. Russia demanded the return of the objects to the Crimean museums which had loaned them. The Dutch supreme court ruled in 2021 that they belonged in Ukraine.

They are not the only ones to make their way back. At the Lavra museum complex in Kyiv, Maksym Ostapenko slowly unwraps a bundle of white packing paper. Out of it emerges a Bronze Age battle-axe. Another bundle yields a sixth-century Khazar sword. In the summer of 2022 the weapons, plus a few other objects probably destined for America’s antiquities market, surfaced at John F. Kennedy airport. The American authorities sent them back to Ukraine a year later. Most were probably excavated illegally in southern Ukraine, near Crimea, says Mr Ostapenko, the museum’s director, or discovered by Russian troops digging trenches. Such archaeological looting has thrived in the occupied territories, he adds. “The damage done to cultural heritage is immeasurable"

#excerpts

[council-of-beetroot]

Tagged by @anartificialsatellite for a round of Describe Your WIPs Badly!

I'm currently starting on one, but I have another two ideas to work on for lietpru week

1. Man channels about a half centuries worth of unresolved grievances into destroying his former boss in basketball

2. Man takes delusions of family way too far and now Gil and Tolys are stuck in an old dacha

3. There's no point in making your enemy miserable when the world already does it better than you could, might as well have sex

[white-bow-tie]

Day six

United two friends who never spoke to each other (or did they??) in one day

Fun, talking, lots of walking

A bit more tired bc I barely slept at night and when I fell asleep finally it was like, after 6am and I had to wake up at 10am. And first 2 hours of this short sleep were some crazy nightmare. Welp, surprised I felt quite fine through the day.

In the evening I made it to my parents house (dacha) that's out of city. Everything is fine so far, no negativity or anything at all (thanks god hope it stays this way I want peace)

Red cat who decided our home is also it's home (and befriended parents' cat) stood here at night. It makes funny pigeon noises.

Dad also said their cat disappeared for a few weeks ago... let's say it's not that breed that just walks on it's own, it kinda has an understanding of some family relationship. So, probably something sad happened... Red cat is looking sad too, they said. They liked to play together.

#i share so much stuff on tumblr actually #i guess it's partly bc using english is distancing you from feelings a bit #i mean i never vented so much on an open account ppl actually follow for art and reblogs as i do here #and party i guess it's because it's tumblr #i don't need vpn for it and people here are chill #and I've been here since 2016 #it's not like i vented today and in this post #just random thoughts #bc open dairy is not something I've done either?? #visiting home