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mistfm · 1 year ago

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who is that we see, peering through the mist? it's seven ahn! welcome to the city of penson — how long have you been waiting to move in? never mind, you're here now, bringing the fc of lee taemin and the mythos of the revenant along with you! make sure you look over the checklist as you make yourself at home!

◟✧⡀ ( lee taemin. non-binary. he / they / it. ) … there’s a figure off in the distance, do you see it? wait is that … SEVEN AHN? how long have they been standing there? if that’s really them, i believe they’re 32. do i know them? no, but i hear they’re PERCIPIENT and ARTFUL, but also MERCILESS and CONNIVING. i do know that they’ve been in the City for 7 YEARS. it’s crazy that they’re just standing there … shouldn’t they be working at COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY as a CO-OWNER? maybe they’re off today, i couldn’t tell you. hope they get moving soon. i’m starting to feel like REVENANT is peering over at me … ( tee. 24. she / her. est. )

Rift Level: Legendary Available powers: Enhanced condition (speed, strength, and durability that is above that of the peak human condition) , Darkness manipulation (can bend darkness to his will as a whole, cloaking himself and forming shadow-like tendrils that can interact with the environment and attack targets with enough concentration) , Death Empowerment (death by his hand provides a temporary boost to powers listed prior and he can possibly induce fear in his next prey depending on their willpower)

How long ago did the Mythos Manifest: As nomads typically consider the vast roads they travel through the only home they know , settling down never occurs to them because to trade in a life of motorcycles , trailer homes , and the freedom the interstate provides , is to die . But children change things , your perception of the world being one , and suddenly you find yourself wanting that house with a white picket fence for them to run around safely in . Penson called Seven’s name , the city shrouded in mist and mystery drawing him in from a distance with a promise of adventure — a code to crack .

He traveled with his teenage sweetheart and their six year old son with stacks of cash in their pockets from less than legal odds jobs from up and down the east coast . The city was never supposed to be the forever home his wife deluded herself into believing , but rather an opportunity for Seven to do big things with big money that lived within the strange mist . The past is hard to remember at times , almost as if his soul is trying to still the madness in his subconscious that wills him to snap . But his mythos is always there to remind him of how the rain felt on his skin as a man pushed his face into concrete — kicked his face in ; the dread in his bones from the sound of his child crying , screaming , choking on his own spit as he demanded they let go of his father who dared fight back ; the silence that came at the end of a gunshot ; then another ; then another — but this one doesn’t kill with an instant mercy . no , it leaves Seven in a coma he shouldn't have woken from , nothing but nightmares while stuck in his head — his reality , and the cold truth that he’s alone now . But the mythos had plans for him . It was quite easy for the revenant to break into someone as fractured as Seven , it was quite thrilling to tear a man apart by the sinews as he begs for death from sheer guilt of being alive . The revenant appeared to him as a small black crow in his dreams his first night in the hospital , toeing the line of death , and stared at him with bead eyes that showed a reflection of his rotting body : skin peeling and cheeks sunken , before flying away into the night . The nightmares were a never ending loop of the night his wife and son were murdered no matter what he did — while that same crow would watch with those eyes , and Seven would see himself rotting more and more each time , unable to help them nor himself . Nine weeks . Nine weeks trapped in his head , finding comfort in a crow that made him feel less alone , less insane for desiring a sweet and bloody vengeance for what he lost . This desire is the inch given to the mythos to take the driver’s seat and piece together a man without direction . Seven flatlined that night but the mythos that manifested in him seven years ago brought him back . It was only there after he realized that it was never the crow . . . but the rotted version of himself .

Main Desire: Seven wants nothing more than to find the three rifts responsible for the death of his family and himself so that he may finally rest . Revenant is very keen on aiding its host as the mere thought of the smell of death permeating its senses , warm and sticky blood splattering across flesh , and tragically beautiful corpses littering the ground is as fulfilling as taking over a body that was never its own . Somewhere between the years of walking aimlessly in the City , failing to fill the void in his soul his loved ones took with them into the grave , Seven gave an inch to the mythos deep within who then stole a mile . But rest assured that this human’s simple minded attempt at revenge will be met . . . just on their terms and time — they have nothing but that

Gang / Group name + Position: The Akheilos + Hammerhead

#appless rp #city rp #new rp #crime rp #supernatural rp #oc rp #mistfm.accepted

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beautifulblooms · 3 years ago

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Fighting Together to the End - Eddie Munson x Male!Reader - Part 1

Male! Reader, he/him used, so fuck the canon, it broke my heart, MEGA FUCKING SPOILERS FOR PART TWO OF SEASON FOUR, anyways, fluff, angst, this is pretty much a rewrite of season 4 because I need to recover after the traumatizing events of part 2

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

CIS Women and Female Aligned people, please DNI, this story and all of my others are for non-binary, masculine aligned and male readers!

Why had it been Eddie who got caught up in all this? He isn’t a bad person, he sells some bad shit but he’s not bad. If Chrissy had just found some other seller at the school it wouldn’t have been an issue. If the town didn’t believe my boyfriend was a freak and a cult leader it would've been better. Granted I’m not in much of a better situation being his boyfriend, firstly it’s Hawkins, secondly we’re gay, need I say more.

Eddie and I hid together after Chrissy got snapped apart in the living room, honestly not surprised his supplier was out by lovers lake. If anything it’s smart, constant sales from teens passing by and it’s secluded enough to not draw attention. Getting discovered by Dustin and the rest of them wasn’t exactly fun, we both nearly killed two of them. In our defense, Steve jabbed Eddie in the face with his oar.

“So what you’re saying is that there’s an entire upside down version of Hawkins, and there’s a guy who’s controlling people mentally to kill them?” Having to process Chrissy was enough but now there’s a whole other world we have to understand and somehow get rid of????

“Yes, exactly, see? Someone understands me!” Dustin was a little too excited to be understood, which means he’s had to explain this far too much already.

“Well what the fuck are we supposed to do about it? We’re both being hunted for murder that we obviously didn’t commit.” Eddie blurted out from beside me, equally as tired of this shit as me.

“We didn’t think that far yet, we’re still trying to figure out how he’s attacking people.” Steve chimed in next, rubbing his neck after Eddie nearly stuck his switchblade into it.

“In the meantime, how about y’all get us some food, seeing as we can’t really go anywhere without getting recognized and then attacked, arrested, or killed. Hell I’ll even give you cash to cover it.” Pulling out my wallet I gave Nancy about 60 dollars for food, she seems like the most responsible to give cash.

“What are we supposed to get?” Nancy just looked at me confused.

“Anything really, nothing that needs a fridge, that’s not really an option right now.” I gestured around us at the rest of the boat house we had found ourselves in.

“Great, c’mon guys, let’s get the murderers food.” Sarcasm dripped off her words but Eddie and I still let out dry chuckles.

“Oh! And a six pack!” I looked to my left at Ed’s.

“Really, beer?” He looked almost offended.

“We need provisions, don't we? Beer is a liquid, and we need water to survive.” A deadpan replaced my previously confused expression.

“That’s not the same thing dumbass.” I lightly smacked the back of his head and he let out a small whine in response.

“What should we do while we wait for them to bring back stuff?” Eddie laid back against the walls behind him, looking up at me through hooded eyes.

“Um, wanna take a nap?” I shrugged my shoulders not really sure what to do without the usual stuff we had at his trailer or my house.

“What a fantastic idea my love, now get down here with me!” Grabbing my shoulders he dragged me down against the floor of the boat house to cuddle.

“Ya know I could’ve laid down on my own babe.” A smile spread across his face that I couldn’t even think about being mad about.

“I’m sure you could’ve, but that was more fun. Now, we sleep!” Giggling at his antics I wrapped my arms around his middle and quickly pressing a kiss to his lips before letting the sweet grasp of sleep wash over me. It was only a few hours later that we were rudely awakened by Dustin screaming.

“We have your food, stop being cutesy, it's gross!“ If it wasn’t Dustin yelling at me I would’ve kicked him in the shin and let him fall to the floor.

“Henderson, you're walking a fine line right now.” I only opened one eye to look up at him, but he got the message and took a few steps back.

“What all did you get?” Eddie groaned out sitting up from where he was laying in my arms.

“Um, the six pack, honeycomb, spaghetti-o’s, pasta, some random fruit Nancy picked up, uhh and some other stuff I think.” Steve started going through what he remembers from the shopping trip.

“Eddie, you're not drinking this early, it’s only 3:30.” Looking down at my watch to confirm the time before looking back up at him.

“It’s 5 o’clock somewhere babe, c’mon it’s been a rough couple of days, just this once?” Damn him and those beautiful brown eyes, as soon as he looks at me with a smile I can’t say no.

“Fine, just this once.” Sitting up I rubbed my eyes before looking at everyone again.

“So while you guys were gone, did you come up with anything? Like ya know, a plan maybe?” At this point I just wanted to go back to before everything happened, I just wanted my normal back.

“Well, this would be so much easier if we still had El and she still had her powers.” Steve mentioned this girl again, apparently she’s some super hero with magic.

“Okay this is like the third time you’ve mentioned this kid, who is she?” I still looked tired as shit but I couldn’t give two fucks anymore.

“Oh, Eleven is this crazy cool kid with like telekinesis, she can like invade people's minds, and she helped us deal with the last few times we’ve had issues.” Dustin tried explaining again, but somehow made it harder to understand, especially for someone who got woken up only a few minutes ago.

“Well I’m still lost, but we don’t have this magic kid, so what are we gonna do now?” Eddie said back to Dustin trying to wake up enough to open his beer.

“Still haven’t gotten that far yet, but if we can get into the upside down and kill Vecna it should solve the problem. Only issue is we don’t have a gate, we don’t know where Vecna is, or when or who he’s gonna go for next.” Dustin chimed in again to explain what we needed to do.

This was gonna be one hell of a shit show, I just know it.

#eddie munson x male reader #eddie x male reader #Eddie munson #eddie stranger things #Eddie munson stranger things #male reader #male reader fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

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the-melting-world · 4 years ago

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Strength | Side B: “Chasing Dials”

Art by @ligiawrites

~ In which a secretive barhand brings in the new year…

The Trio Appearances: Kipling | Khleo | Ozy

Arcana LI appearances: Asra | Nadia | Lucio | Valdemar

Track Origins: “Chasing Dials” by Blanco White

Not sure if this is the right track? The full album can be found here: Strength

Khleo is Non-binary and uses she/they pronouns interchangeably

cw: alcohol, implications of vampirism, mentions of blood

~ 2.3k words

***

Fireworks broke and rained hot glitter over the southern border of Center City and Goldgrave. A handful of bartenders were off duty and on the move.

Khlee von Heine walked among them. She was the only one who hadn’t taken the time to change out of her work clothes. Her coworkers were loud, merry, and prone to recklessness as they stumbled from one pop-up bar crawl to the next.

“Another year,” Gabe managed to roar over the next round of fireworks. “Can you believe we fucking did it?” He took a deep swig from the communal growler. The night was far from young and the barhands had lost track over how many times they refilled it. Gabe reluctantly handed it off to the next coworker so they could say their piece.

Khlee hung back in order to stand under a wooden arch whose sign was eclipsed in dead vines. But Khleo had committed its message to memory years ago.

Der Biergarten.

The plot of land overgrown in weeds and other invasive species was still up for sale, to Khleo’s relief. Though it was out of the way on most of her delivery routes, Khleo did her best to stop by every now and then. Just to make sure no one had bought up the property.

The barhand checked to see that her coworkers were distracted as she stepped up and snatched a flyer with the lot info off the gate. She folded it up and quickly tucked it in her pocket before the arm of a good friend looped around her neck.

Basil leaned on Khleo as he pressed the convex surface of the growler against her sternum.

“Your turn.”

Khleo playfully shoved him off of her, but kept the growler. She took a sip. Basil and the other barhands chided her — she was supposed to make a toast.

“Fine. Fine.” Khleo held up the bottle. “To progress.”

They made a show of peering into the depths of the amber glass. “Maybe this year we’ll get lucky and actually make some, yeah?”

Someone snatched the growler out of their hand. Gwendolyn? Max? The streets were too dark to tell.

Khleo’s friends were off. They blended in with the city’s bar crawlers as they chased down the next booze cart. People wanted refills that night, not whatever Khleo was about to say next.

Later when Khleo had returned to her apartment, she traded her work clothes for something softer and more comfortable. Then she dug through the pocket of her discarded jacket and retrieved the folded up flyer.

It was a short walk from her kitchen to the bedroom. There was no bed frame or vanity, just three lumpy mattresses stacked on top of each other that she rescued from the alley when she first moved in.

The room was already small, but it felt even more congested thanks to the uneven piles of text, of which there two types — loose leaf recipes or pages ripped out of cookbooks and cheap serial novels with depictions of bejeweled dragons on the covers.

The only piece of real furniture around was an antique dresser, the drawers of which were broken and jutting out like crooked teeth.

All except one.

Khleo took a deep breath before crouching and using both hands to work the bottom drawer open. Like always, it did not come quietly, but with a little patience and a lot of swearing, Khleo managed to pull it out.

Most of the drawer’s contents belonged to her late adoptive father, Hans von Heine. However, it was an unmarked jar that Khleo reached for. She screwed it open and tucked the flyer for the piece of real estate between old flyers and newspaper clippings back when the garden used to host events. The jar had cash in it too. Whatever Khleo could spare went into the jar. Most of it came from what was left of her tips after paying rent, bills, and whoever she needed in order to keep certain people off her back and out of her business.

Khleo sealed the jar and did her best to ignore the tightness in her chest as she struggled to get the drawer to shut all the way. Once she had, she found that her breathing had become more than a little unsteady. It only got worse when she heard the fireworks going off outside.

Khleo shut their eyes and leaned their forehead against one of the crooked drawers, trying not to dwell too much on where they were this time last here. As it turned out, they were right here, drunk and crying at the foot of this very dresser.

Khleo curled up on their side. Yes, tonight their head was buzzing from the alcohol, somehow both heavy and light. Yes, the tears had found their way to the surface again. Khleo was never one to hold them in as long as they could find the space to spill them.

Things would be different this year, Khleo told themself. They would make sure of it this time.

***

(Lucio’s POV)

Lucio hated the smell of this place. Rotting and damp. It was hard to believe that they were still in Vesuvia.

“You always have such a sour expression on your face whenever I come to feed. Why so, my Count?”

The silky, sardonic voice belonged to Lucio’s host, Quaestor Valdemar.

“Don’t call me that,” Lucio snapped. He wanted to fold his arms and stifle some of the shivers running up his back, but he couldn’t as long as he was hooked up to Valdemar’s device.

“My apologies, Lucio,” Valdemar corrected themself coolly.

Another shiver climbed up Lucio’s neck as he bit back the urge to say, I don’t want to be called that either.

“Tell me, what plagues you?” They added with a chuckle. “Don’t you like your living arrangement?”

Ever since cutting a deal with the scientist turned demon, Lucio had been living out his days in the lowest cellar of the Lazaret. When he was first brought back from the Devil’s realm, he had been too weak to demand anything else. At the time, all he cared about was that he was alive and wouldn’t be devoured by the courtiers.

Lucio glanced at the tube looping around his forearm, its transparent pathways already inflated with his blood.

But at what cost?

Lucio grinded his teeth. It was too late to consider that now.

This was how it always went anyway. Lucio would be presented with an opportunity — a way to improve what he could not on his own. He would leap at it, no questions asked.

Why, after all this time, after all those treacherous dealings could he not bring himself to stop and think things through?

As the last of Valdemar’s toll left his body, Lucio started to wonder what his mother might say about all of this. But he’d rather eat another shitty bargain than go down that road right now.

“Your contribution to our arrangement hasn’t been as satisfying compared to when we first began.”

“What are you trying to say?” Despite his nasty tone, Lucio was grateful for the distraction. “My blood’s not tasty enough for you?”

“It used to be,” Valdemar said. “I’ll be honest with you, Lucio, I agreed to keep you around as an energy reserve primarily for that reason. The notion of devouring you in one sitting and having to share with my dear contemporaries was not nearly as attractive as the possibility of having your flesh to dine on whenever I needed to during this indefinite campaign in your current reality.”

Lucio hissed as Valdemar unceremoniously removed the needle from his vein. He wasn’t sure how to react to what he had just heard. Thanks to Valdemar’s mask, all Lucio could read from their expression was the growing crow’s feet at the corners of their blood red eyes.

“So?”

Valdemar applied a cotton wad to the puncture wound and dug it in with their thumb.

“Ow! Hey – Owie!” Lucio yelped.

“So, my Count,” they sweetly clarified as they kept up the pressure, “I need you to find a way to restore that vitality you once possessed. Technically, you’re in peak physical health. I don’t know if you’ve looked in the mirror lately, but the evidence of your tussle with the plague has all but disappeared from your eyes. Your hair has been growing…” they took a moment to scan their critical gaze over the pale blond patches clinging to Lucio’s jaw. “You could easily blend in with the citizens.”

Lucio swallowed. “B-blend in? Why the devil would I want to blend in?”

Valdemar made a less than human sound as they peeled back their mask and bared their needle-sharp teeth at the former Count.

“Right now you taste like a boneless, gutless, gill-infected inferior breed of mackerel. And I prefer to have rare, mercury-rich, vinegar-glazed bluefin tuna. Captivity is poisoning your blood. So I’m giving you permission to get out there in your beloved city and find a way to sweeten it.”

The Quaestor gave Lucio a not-so-gentle shove in his chair. They replaced their mask as they straightened up. The former Count’s eyes widened as he covered his hand over his arm. The last thing he wanted was to piss off Valdemar. But he didn’t know the first thing when it came to what they were asking him to do.

“What happens if I can’t, erm… make my blood taste better? What if spending time in the city doesn’t work?”

The Quaestor sighed, their emotions back in check. They were already half occupied with cleaning their instruments and storing the sacks of Lucio’s blood in a portable cooler for later.

“Then I will have no choice but to invite my courtier companions over for a nice potluck dinner.” They glanced up. The crow’s feet were back. “And you’ll be the forgettable appetizer that no one asked for.”

Later, when Valdemar was kind enough to row Lucio across the stretch of water to the mainland, they suggested, “You should find some people who are very healthy. Outside of captivity, fish are the most robust when they’re in competition with other capable anatomies.”

Lucio hugged what was left of his royal uniform – a tattered speckled cape – around his shoulders. He grumbled, “Would you, for fuck’s sake, stop comparing me to a fish, Quaestor?”

Unperturbed, Valdemar said, “We’ve arrived.”

Lucio lowered his hood and blinked out at the morning overcast sky. His top lip curled into a distinctive snarl as he recognized where they were.

“Not here. Anywhere but here.”

Valdemar gestured to the nearest dock. “Get out, Lucio.”

The former Count wanted to blot out the images of the slumped architecture and purge his nostrils of the stale watery stench.

“Not the Flooded District. I can’t stand this place. Can’t you see that it’s a failure that I don’t need reminding of?”

“Lucio, don’t be so foolish,” Valdemar said almost tenderly as they nudged him out of the boat. “The entire city is your failure. Much of which is hard to see. Oh, but it’s there. Now go on,” they said as if encouraging a child at the fairgrounds, “go find someone healthy. I’ll come to retrieve you in a fortnight’s time.”

Lucio couldn’t believe he was watching Valdemar row off into the mist. He tried to take a deep breath, but the air was so bad that he just ended up coughing.

Even though Valdemar had been correct about Lucio’s appearance, looking nothing like he did in the days when he was the Count, he still found himself trying to crowd off his features with his hood any time a resident passed him by on the floating, rickety streets. But to his relief, no one seemed to know or even care about who he was or might be.

As soon as Lucio relaxed his shoulders and began walking with more confidence, the inner walls of his stomach suddenly contracted. Then he remembered. He had just given blood. Lots of it. Usually, the Quaestor supplied him with something to eat, but this time they hadn’t.

“Damn them,” Lucio hissed. He cradled his abdomen like it was made of glass as he tried to make his way towards some kind of common plaza. He had no money, but perhaps he would be able to find a dumpster to rummage through.

He was passing by a narrow alley when he caught a glimpse of the impossible out of the corner of his eye.

A lion.

Its coat was creamy and short all over. Its size was nothing short of mythical.

Lucio was tempted to shout at the two idiots occupying the alley with this beast on the loose, but they seemed both aware of its presence and entirely calm about it.

One of them was slumped against the wall of the grimy building. Despite their threadbare attire and weary expression, they were smiling at the other.

“No, Khlee. Please don’t. You’ll be late for work.”

The person squatting before the first seemed to be focused on the task of sewing up what appeared to be rips in a heavy cloak. Even with their short jacket, Lucio could detect the shape of their arms. Their brown curls had enough volume to hide most of the details in their profile.

“Nah. I’m already late. This’ll only take a minute.”

There wasn’t much time to take in the rest of their features before the big cat stepped up, blocking Lucio’s view of them.

< Can I help you? >

Lucio ran. He nearly tripped over himself getting out of there so fast. But he didn’t go far. He gripped the edge of a building and poked his head out, waiting for the lioness and her human to emerge. When they finally did, Quaestor Valdemar’s words from earlier echoed in Lucio’s mind.

Go find someone healthy.

Well, the individual strolling confidently down the street with a full grown lion at their side was definitely looking like the healthy sort.

At the moment, Lucio wasn’t really thinking about what would happen to him if he failed Valdemar’s taste requirements.

Right now, his stomach was hurting.

If the body of this lion tamer was any indication, they knew where Lucio could find himself a meal.

#the arcana #khleo the barhand #arcana albums: strength #arcana albums #count lucio #lucio #lucio the arcana #quaestor valdemar #valdemar #valdemar the arcana #montag morgasson #the arcana fic #the arcana fanfic #the arcana fanfiction #my writing #cw alcohol #cw blood mention #cw vampirism

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axolom · 4 years ago

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FTM Tutorial: How To Wear A Packer

The majority of people who use packers are those who are transgender or non-binary. When you’re a part of the trans* community, your mind and/or body can sometimes be your worst enemy. Axolom helps transgender and non-binary people access their gender euphoria instead of dysphoria. There are many options we’ll go over when we explain below how to wear a packer. Just to make sure we’re on the same page, let’s start with why trans* people wear packers and what packers are:

What Are Packers?

Usually created out of silicone, packers are phallic (or penis-shaped) prosthetics some people use to create the appearance of a bulge in pants. For some back in the day, cis-guys used socks to make their own bulge look bigger. The transgender application in my experience similar: to combat dysphoria and/or boost confidence.

Some people use packers as a way to subtly validate themselves throughout the day. These packers can be a major piece of the puzzle when it comes to taking on bottom dysphoria for people across the world. Many trans* people use packers as a tool to keep their minds from saying negative things. If we can master our minds and retrain our thought processes to be positive, it can be a major game-changer in our day-to-day lives as transgender and non-binary people and, in some cases, save lives.

What Styles/Types Of Packers Are There?

Here, Axolom offers cut, uncut, flat back, and curved for AFAB anatomy. The cut and uncut are circumcised and uncircumcised respectively. The star feature is the back which has two inner half-moon shapes that allow your anatomy to rest in these indentions flat on the body. You want to be comfortable with your packer and have it feel like an extension of you. You can also have packers that double as other products like STPs (Stand to Pee Devices), pleasure edges, or products to be able to make prosthetics erect. But How Do I Wear A Packer?

Let’s say you already have a packer in mind but don’t understand how it can attach to the body. There are a few different ways you’re able to:

Adhesive

The Axolom product Monsieur Wiggle Super Soft Packer also has a tab that may be adhered to the body using these reusable sheets allowing for a free feeling of natural movement. You can purchase adhesive sheets, but if you’re tight on cash, you can always tuck the tab under the elastic band of your underwear or one of the next few options.

Harnesses

From minimal straps to velcro with snap buttons, you can get all types of harnesses to wear underneath your underwear. The key is to make sure your harness feels secure and people often go with these because they know and trust that these won’t fail. The worst-case scenario for any person using prosthetics is it falling off, especially in public. If you’re not one for extra layers, the other options might be better choices.

Snug Boxer Briefs

The most accessible option found locally is often boxer briefs. Their snug fit and pocket for junk support are ideal for a pouch for your packer so it remains against your body as it should. It’s important to pay attention to the pouch size, open/closed fly, and material because you want it to be comfortable and breathable down there. Stay sanitary people!

Speciality Boxer Briefs

In the last decade, there has been an increase in transgender and nonbinary products to aid in your battle against dysphoria and/or self-esteem. Companies such as RodeoH and FtM Essentials offer a variety of packing boxer solutions that are made just for keeping your packer in place. Often this is the go-to answer for people who want the security of a harness but the comfort of boxer briefs.

Impact

According to its second annual National Survey on LGBTQ Youth Mental Health, The Trevor Project discovered some disturbing stats about gay, lesbian, bisexual, transgender, and other gender nonconforming young Americans between 13-24.

“48% of LGBTQ youth reported engaging in self-harm in the past twelve months, including over 60% of transgender and nonbinary youth.”

As this wasn’t enough to be concerned about, 40% of those surveyed said to have seriously considered attempting suicide during that period, and of these young people who identified as trans or nonbinary, more than half said they strongly considered ending their lives.

Axolom knows how much of an impact it can make on people’s quality of life as transgender and non-binary people who want to learn how to wear a packer. I can tell they want to make the lives of transgender and non-binary people easier so we lose less precious transgender souls. And that’s what this is all about. I’m very glad I crossed paths with Axolom and I appreciate you taking the time to read this post.

As always, sending you love and light.

Axolom Team.

#ftm packer #ftm stp #ftm transman #axolom

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wtfevenismypage · 5 years ago

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I’ll Always Love You

Request: Could I request a Spencer Reid x nonbinary!reader where the reader works at the BAU and one day they come in and they seem off and not really focusing and everyone notices so Spencer tries talking to them about it and the reader tells him about how their family wasn’t respecting their pronouns?

Warnings: incorrect pronoun usage, cursing, established spencer x reader

A/N: YO PLEASE EXCUSE ANY AND ALL MISTAKES I’M TYPING WITH ONE HAND I FUCKED MY LEFT HAND UP

The moment you walked into the office, Spencer could tell something was off. You were walking much hastier than normal, and you didn’t greet anyone like you normally do.

“Are they okay? They seem upset...”

Emily asks, leaning toward Spencer’s desk. He nods in agreement, watching as you plop down at your desk. the picture of you and your parents sitting together got flipped over immediately.

“Oh no.”

“Oh no? What’s oh no?”

“They went home for a few days remember? I think... I think they may have come out to their parents. And from the looks of it, it didn’t go very well.”

You stared at the flipped frame for a couple extra seconds before picking it up and tossing it into your trashcan hidden under your desk and pulling up files on your computer to get started on work.

You tried your best to act normal, but every time you tried to be social, it fell flat. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way your parents kept using the wrong pronouns. How they blatantly ignored you when you told them, laughing it off as if you told a joke.

You finally finish your first file after about 45 minutes, sighing in relief. You could feel Hotch’s gaze on the back of your head, it was seething, burning a hole through your skin. Of course he noticed how slow you were today, how could he not?

“Y/L/N? My office please?”

You sigh, hanging your head as you stand. With a final glance into the trashcan in which you dumped your memories, you walk off, heading into Hotch’s office and sitting across from his desk as he closed the blinds.

“I’m sorry sir. I just... I haven’t been able to focus lately and I -”

“Y/L/N, I understand. If you want to go home for the day you can, but at least talk to someone first okay?”

“No sir, I can still work I’m just slow. I promise I can I just... I need this today sir. Please.”

He sighs, pinching his nose before nodding waving his hand off.

“Fine. But if I find that this interferes with your work, I’m sending you home. Got it?”

You nod, standing up and returning to your desk where Garcia sits, holding the broken frame in her hands. You plopped in your seat again, tears bordering your eyes as she met them, hand wrapping yours up in hers.

“Babe... What happened?”

“Just a small argument with my parents, I’m just upset is all. I promise.”

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

Halfway through the day, you still can’t take your mind off of the week you just spent with your parents.

It was horrible. They used your deadname, refused to use your pronouns, everything went wrong.

Spencer knew this too, he could tell. He knew you were lost in thought, so he decided to try to cheer you up. He swiveled his way to your desk in his chair, watching as you slowly tapped your keys.

“Hey bubba. Do you want a hug?”

You snap out of your dazed state, looking to your right where he sat, smiling.

“Come here bubs.”

You leaned into his hold, letting him hug you right there in the office. His arms warm around your torso. All your worries slowly washed away in his arms.

“Wanna tell me what happened?”

You nod, pulling away and rubbing your face briefly before looking at him.

“I told my parents my new name and my pronouns and they... They laughed. They laughed and said I was funny and ignored me and it was horrible... It was awful Spence...”

He rubbed your waist, whispering reassurances as you just stared off in the distance. You already cried, it felt like there was nothing left.

“I know you love them bubba, and they may never understand. You don’t have to try and fix it right away. Remember how it was with me?”

You nodded before he continued again.

“I didn’t understand it at first because I’ve only ever known the facts, and whilst I knew that there are people like you who identify as non-binary, I still didn’t understand why. But, you helped me understand and eventually I got the hang of it. I’m not sure if they’ll ever understand, but you’ll always have us okay? You’ll always have me.”

He’s right, you’ll always have him. He’ll always be right by your side, helping you with files and cases, helping you when you get down, helping you with anything. He’ll always be there.

“I’ll always love you Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I’ll always love you too Spencer Reid.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST:

@pinkdiamond1016 @spencer-reids-snow-white @sheepfather @eusuntgroot @libradolan @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal @zhangyixingxing1 @secretpickleprofessordean @aquarius-pisces-rose @hopebaker @law-nerd105 @roses-and-grasses @damonwhitlock @futuremrsb-r-main @xspideyboyx @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto @raiford-cash @dearestreid @ohbabycal @purpleraindrops

#Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #CRIMINAL MINDS FANDOM #spencer reid #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fluff #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler fluff #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #Penelope Garcia #david rossi

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xamaxenta · 4 years ago

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Still horribly obsessed with Judai walking past the Kaiba Corp tech labs and seeing Dr Fudo working on the newest duel tech

And he just pauses like

“Hey Mokuba?”

And his boss turns with a questioning look and Judai gestures through the glass at Yusei

“Is he new, never seen him around before.”

“Newish. He started roughly around the same time you did.” Mokuba replies tucking his phone back into his pocket

“Could I ask you a huge favour?” Judai tries and fails to hide his growing smile, Mokuba squints at him suspiciously, glancing back and forth between his guard and the scientist

Then he puts two and two together

“I will not be so biased as to become your wingman.” He says sternly and Judai does his best to appear innocent

“Im not sayin you should be my wingman but youre the boss, you could put in a good word for me.”

“About what, Judai ? He thinks in quantum binaries half the time and writes all his notes in morse and self published code, you, on the other hand don’t think at all.” Mokuba replies exasperated

“Ouch dude. You could just say my protection services are top notch should he ever need em”

“What’s he going to need muscle for to punch a particularly hard equation?” Its a forgettable thing that Mokuba Kaiba can become as scathing and sarcastic as his elder brother and Judai winces

“I just don’t want you to get thoroughly rejected,” Mokuba softens his approach

“What makes you think I’d get rejected?”

“He’s married to his work what can I say, there’s never been a more dedicated person at Kaiba Corp than him.” Mokuba swipes across the holograpic file presented to him by his secretary

“Yeah there is you’re looking at him.” Judai jokes and Mokuba rolls his eyes fondly

“Besides if you got rejected I would never hear the end of it, you’d follow me home like some sad puppy and dramatically request a department transfer.”

“You really have no faith in me and ye olde Yuki courting tactics huh?” Judai retorts mock offended.

“And you want to bet with me on your love life?” Mokuba clicks his fingers and the holograpic folder closes and disintegrates on his snap.

“Yeah loser has to do whatever the winner says for one full day.” Judai grins as if he were already victorious

“Please this isn’t grade school Mr Yuki.” Mokuba scoffs

Its in that moment the pleasant hum of the labs dual sliding doors buzz open and Dr Fudo steps out, halfway out of his lab coat when Judai pivots on his heel with the most dashing smile on his face.

“Hey, did we just share electrons? Because I'm feeling a covalent bond between us.”

Mokuba slaps a hand to his face, partly out of extreme secondhand embarrassment and mostly out of mortification at his bodyguards’ bullheaded audacity.

Dr Fudo sizes Judai up with that brilliant electric blue gaze, one that made you feel light years beneath him, not out of arrogance or self importance, but because Dr Fudo was such a remarkable person it was hard not to feel inferior in his presence.

And of all reactions, quirks a smile as he tucks his glasses into the pocket of his labcoat.

“That was pretty good, have we met?” Dr Fudo extends his hand and Judai reverently takes it because holy shit he did not expect that to work.

Mokuba waits approximately six minutes and twenty three seconds for Judai to exchange numbers with their incomprehensible resident genius. And when his guard finally falls in step with him does he address the smug rogue

“Well I hope you’ve got some spicy things in mind for me whenever you want to cash in the bet winnings.”

Judai predictably isnt listening, hes one step behind Mokuba with his tongue peeked out in concentration whilst he finishes typing out the seventh adorably cute kaomoji beside Dr Yusei Fudo’s name in his phone

Theyre now seven minutes and fifty four seconds late to the meeting. But Mokuba doesn’t have the heart to have Judai explain their tardiness, not when he wears a smile so pure and bright

Mokuba will never understand the youth these days

#haha what is this #sorrey #starshipping stuff #bodyguard au

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bitchyblue · 6 years ago

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Some points of bar etiquette, from a bartender

Don’t ever wave or snap at us to get our attention. We know you’re there, and we WILL get to you. We have a queue in our heads of who’s turn it is and if you try to jump the line you’ll fuck it all up.

Know what you want by the time we get to you or you lose your place in line.

“Please,” “Can I get,” and “Thank you” are very important. Don’t just say “Ketel and club.”

Don’t ask for separate checks. Just don’t. Venmo exists now.

20% is just 10% times two. It’s easy math.

Tip more at happy hour because you’d be paying double otherwise but are still getting the same drinks and service. Tip accordingly.

We get paid around $2-3 per hour before tips. We absolutely require tips to live.

Tipping cash will earn you excellent bar karma. Do it whenever possible. We get taxed on credit card tips but not cash.

PLEASE DO NOT HIT ON US THIS IS OUR PLACE OF WORK AND WE ARE REQUIRED TO BE HERE.

If your drink was more expensive than you were expecting, that’s not our fault. You can always ask how much a certain liquor or cocktail costs before ordering it.

Some easy, go-to cocktails that most bars can accommodate and are fun and delicious: French 75, old fashioned, Manhattan, vodka or gin martini, margarita, and binaries (vodka + club, gin + tonic, rum + coke)

Some drinks that we will hate you for: anything requiring us to heat water or make espresso, anything we have to muddle a bunch of fruit for, anything requiring emulsified egg white, anything that requires a fancy sugar rim. Don’t. Even if it’s on the menu. Don’t do it.

A salt rim is fine, idk the science but salt rims are easy and beautiful, sugar is maybe denser so it’s harder to make it be pretty and perfect.

If you’re getting a liquor that is mixed with other things (like soda, juice, margarita or a dirty martini) don’t get the expensive liquor. You’re paying a lot more for something you won’t get the benefit of. Just get house liquor.

If we cut you or your friend off, respect that and tip extra. It’s the law, we’re not doing it to be rude, we’re trying to protect our business and job (also your stupid friend).

After you’ve closed your tab, leave the bar. You’re taking up seats we need to make money.

Check the closing time. If you’re just getting drinks, it’s okay to go in 20-30 mins before close but you’d better just be getting beer and wine. If I have to muddle something, make espresso or heat water, you’re a dick.

I know it seems like a lot, but these are important and will not only make your bar experience better, it will make your very hardworking bartenders happy and happy to see you!

#fellow bartenders feel free to add on if there's anything i missed

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natrashafierce · 4 years ago

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The author of that terrible Your Fave is Problematic Tumblr has grown up and written a great piece for The New York Times expressing regret about picking people apart and talking about how (surprise, surprise) it was really just that she was young and poorly adjusted and had gone through some stuff.

I hope more people can be honest with themselves that most of us are susceptible to weird, spurious extremist stuff online if we’re in a bad enough mood, and you can always just, like, stop and change course and be someone who tries to spread forgiveness and humility instead of accruing points for tiresome, punitive, identity-obsessed nitpicking. I completely forgive the author of the blog and applaud her for this extra step that will surely expose her to the same sort of poorly adjusted person she used to be.

I also hope more people come to understand that they shouldn’t signal boost people articulating extremist things, because all it does it create a contagion of poor mental health and social behaviors that are counterproductive to achieving anything positive. It’s normal for people to get angry, and everyone has every right to rant in their own online space, and you don’t have to invalidate anyone’s moment of anger. But you can comfort them without reblogging or retweeting them. You don’t have to enable their descent into binary thinking by rewarding them with a ton of attention and influence.

It may be “tone policing” to try to tell any one individual how to express themselves, but it is not “tone policing” to suggest that society should not take our cues and policy ideas from people who are hysterical. Almost no one is good at formulating solutions to social problems, and angry people least of all. Every marginalized group has at least SOME people who are capable of remaining fair, nuanced, and rational despite what they’ve gone through, and those are the people to signal boost if you take societal problems seriously. They tend to have a much more complete perspective on an issue than someone who has barely read or experienced anything outside themselves except for the dozens of aggro internet posts that end up in their bubble.

Chronically angry people see everything through the lens of their anger and their ego, do not seek perspectives or explanations that would defuse them, and their ideas for solutions will tend to be unfair and dehumanzing. Now the internet pays people for that, and people psychologically stagnate because their newfound career depends on it and their reputation seems locked in by the long memory of the internet. Grounded people have learned to control their egos, seek genuine understanding of those who disagree with them, and are capable of finding uplifting solutions, but those people are getting drowned out and harassed offline nowadays.

It used to be that people would have their big moments of anger and, lacking any audience except for a few people they knew, had to learn to introspect, calm themselves down, and approach problems effectively. They would often get gently challenged by the people around them and pulled back into a healthy mindset. They would confront interpersonal problems privately instead of trying to tear people down publicly, and extremism only arose in bad social circles or with especially recalcitrant people. But now that everyone gets their basest impulses rewarded by strangers as poorly adjusted as they are, there is little incentive for introspection or growth. This got worse for a lot of us during the Trump years, I think, because the shock of his incivility made it seem like civility had been a losing tactic. I know I felt like that for a few years until I realized how easily I could be manipulated into believing the worst about someone if it played to my biases. Unfettered mass venting just contributed to a bad cycle.

One of the worst things is how the crazed brigades accrue well-intentioned allies who enforce their insane, unpopular ideas and, together, tank public support for what were once important political objectives. SO MANY people were into the Your Fave is Problematic blog and would troll tags for the celebrities mentioned just to harass and intimidate people who were fans, and they were all indoctrinated into a disordered, shallow worldview were they derived their worth from tearing people down instead of cultivating their own talents. Your Fave is Problematic was by no means the first or only vector for leftist identitarian brain worms, but it was an influential one. There’s a whole lot of obnoxious Tumblr stuff that leaks out into the larger world now.

Back then I thought people would grow out of it, but either a ton of them didn’t, or else those who did just got replaced by new people. I thought right-wingers were catastrophizing and exaggerating when they fixated on it because a lot of the time they were, and too many of them couldn’t criticize it without being dehumanizing themselves. But sure enough, it got worse. I realize now that regardless of ideology, extremism always gets worse if there are incentives for it to grow, and the internet supplies those incentives in spades. This stuff didn’t stay on Tumblr; it didn’t stay on some stray college campuses. They said it wouldn’t, and they were right.

And now it has infected more mainstream, influential spheres of life with infantilizing and dehumanizing ideas that train people to perceive everyone as an aggressor or a pinata they can beat up for clout. It’s increasingly ruined more innocent lives, all while people who are ideologically captured keep insisting it’s no big deal because that’s the line in their social circle. The goalposts move every week to provide more targets, and even left-leaning media has quit thoroughly investigating a lot of things in its rush to cash in on whatever social media controvery has been ginned up by unwell people. The corrections, when they come out, are almost never widely circulated.

It’s been surreal and disheartening to watch. People I used to consider reasonable and compassionate just gradually morphed into aggrieved, insecure pod people who can’t handle the slightest challenges of evidence against their worldview. They can’t accept that their insecurities and peeves are frivolous distractions that actually do materially harm efforts to fix serious problems, whether by beclowning entire political parties or candidates, or diverting resources to organizations that aren’t changing anything significant or are making things worse. They all even say the same tired phrases. It’s such a shitshow, but public opinion polling on this stuff has remained mostly sane. A lot of people are snapping out of it like the author of YFIP, so I can only hope that more people feel comfortable to finally push back against it.

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tony-starkrogers · 6 years ago

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rec week day four

For the cap-IM rec week 2019 day four: Fluffy Thursday! @cap-ironman

This list includes some classic favorites and some new works. Enjoy reading and be sure to show your authors some love!

Indecent Proposal by gyzym, Siria (T, 2.5k)

On the plus side, marriage is bound to be easier than proposing.

"death by coffee" and other search queries by @goodmorningbeloved (T, 2.8k)

In which Steve's feelings are hopelessly obvious through his Google searches. JARVIS decides to step in.

Stick With Me, Baby, I’m the Fella You Came in With by Annie D (scaramouche) (E, 10.6k)

During the final battle with Ultron, Tony kisses Steve for the first time. Afterward, he makes it clear to Steve that he was just running on adrenaline and not thinking clearly. Steve seems to accept it, but the kiss nudges open a door of possibilities, and the situation escalates.

The Trial Run by Annie D (scaramouche) (T, 13.8k)

Tony and Steve pretend to date, and enjoy it far more than they should.

A Hundred Times, Once by @festiveferret, SirSapling (E, 24.7k)

The shrill tone of his SHIELD beeper pulls Steve out of sleep and into battle. He fights robots, he fights Tony's shameless advances, he fights the exhaustion that threatens to take over him, drown him. And then the next morning, he wakes and does it again. Exactly the same.

And again.

Gained in Translation by Annie D (scaramouche) (T, 11.5k)

Steve returns to New York and meets Tony for the first time since they’d parted ways after the Chitauri incident. It’s a little awkward at first, but they gain a new rhythm, which is mainly based on their ability to surprise each other and prove those first impressions inaccurate.

Set between Captain America: The Winter Soldier and Avengers: Age of Ultron.

no matchmaking before breakfast by @elcorhamletlive (unrated, 3.4k)

“I don’t even find Steve attractive.” Natasha says, eyes following greedily every drop of coffee the machine pours, for once in her life genuinely unaware of the impact her words are about to cause.

Surreal, But Nice by @festiveferret (E, 26.8k)

Tony Stark never thought he'd ever meet Captain America, let alone have his underwear tumbling around in Tony's dryer mere minutes after he broke Tony's doorknob.

What even was his life?

Mister Fixit and the Mechanic by @mizzy2k (M, 40k)

An Iron Man 3 AU, wherein Steve was defrosted too early, and after a couple of lonely decades working for SHIELD, decides to retire and run a hardware store called Mister Fixit’s in suburban Miami.

Tony Stark, presumed dead, presumed not-Iron Man, needs to make some weapons to take on the Mandarin’s mansion. A non-chain store that takes cash and doesn’t ask questions is just what Tony needs.

Steve becomes intrigued by the mysterious mechanic that keeps buying things from his store, but when he becomes more aware of what Tony the Mechanic is up to, is Steve ready to be this close to the world of superheroes again?

Binary System by Annie D (scaramouche) (E, 13k)

Tony tends to be tactile with people he trusts. These days that list of people includes Steve, which is a good sign of the progression of their friendship. For his part, Steve seems to enjoy it as much as Tony does... until Tony goes a little too far.

absence makes the heart by fantalaimon (G, 4.8k)

“One night,” Tony says, and just flies himself bodily into one of the canary yellow beekeepers like a red and gold battering ram. “I ask for one measly night. One single goddamn night with my boyfriend—”

“Oh, is the boyfriend label on now?” Clint asks over the comms.

Momentary Paws (or, DO NOT WANT) by velithya (T, 16.8k)

WTF KITTEN

Get Some Now by Sineala (T, 10.3k)

Avengers Mansion has a mysterious feline infestation. Meanwhile, Steve just can't figure out how to ask Tony out on a date. And the thirteen teleporting cats sure aren't helping matters any.

Admiring the Scenery by Annie D (scaramouche) (E, 10.2k)

Steve’s used to people checking him out, but when Tony does it, it feels… different.

A Groove of Perpetual Motion by Annie D (scaramouche) @no-gorms (T, 26.7k)

Tony Stark’s pretty sure where he stands with Steve Rogers. They got off on the wrong foot on day one, and since then there’s been minimal tolerance and thinly-veiled dislike between them. Tony’s certain that this would never ever change, not even when he gains some unexpected new information that suggests that Steve’s feelings for him aren’t what he thought. Because it cannot be true. It’s impossible. Surely?

All I Want by @sineala (T, 2.5k)

Steve's not used to anyone spoiling him. But he's willing to let Tony try.

Check One by JenTheSweetie (T, 4.2k)

The important thing to know - and I mean really, the actually important thing - is that no matter what Bucky said, Steve was not flirting with Tony Stark.

(“Yes you were, you son of a - ”)

Steve has an annoying best friend. Tony has an elaborate plan. Sam has allergies. Bucky has no idea what's about to hit him.

Mandatory Fun by @captainneverever (T, 6.7k)

Steve loses a bet to Tony and has to go to Las Vegas for a fun-filled vacation. Or it was fun until people started thinking that they were married.

Tony Stark Defense Squad (Steve's Had Enough) by orbingarrow (G, 1.6k)

The Avengers are called in by the government to "discuss" recent events, but it turns into a game of Let's Bash Tony and Steve is so not cool with that.

Or, the one where Steve Rogers makes himself the President of the Tony Stark Defense Squad. Matching t-shirts to come later.

Our Personal Fairytale by pensversusswords (T, 2.9k)

In which there is a first date, a giant octopus, and Tony is scared of Ferris wheels.

Neanderthals In Tights (Also Known As a Football Game) by Wordsplat (T, 3.2k)

In which Tony supports Steve at his first big football game, with guest appearances by an exasperated Pepper and an embarrassed Bruce, because yeah, okay, maybe Tony's not really one hundred percent clear on the rules of this game. Why, exactly, are a bunch of neanderthals tackling his boyfriend again?

Aesthetic Appreciation by @theappleppielifestyle (M, 2.2k)

“Nice shirt, Stark.”

It’s Natasha, sounding strangely- smug, maybe?- for reasons Tony doesn’t much care to know.

“I know,” Tony says, not opening his eyes. He tilts his head back, lets out a satisfied sigh and rearranges himself on the chair. The sun climbs another inch of his abs when his shirt rides up with the motion.

Today’s a good day, Tony thinks contentedly, and continues sucking lazily on the popsicle.

don't know why it took me so long to see by @goodmorningbeloved (M, 11.2k)

“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask.

going on a ride by theappleppielifestyle (unrated, 6.3k)

"You want to take me for a ride on your motorcycle," Tony repeats, slow so he can process it as he’s saying it, "because you think my glasses are cute."

An Abundance of Heart by theappleppielifestyle (T, 14.8k)

Steve finds himself grinning, despite everything, because god, he didn't realize how much he's missed this- having someone to back him, people to fight around, getting caught and pulled to his feet.

Hell, even Stark's quips make his mouth quirk upwards slightly.

When I Think (Oh, it Terrifies Me) by celli (E, 8.6k)

Look, some mornings you wake up and little green men are invading New York City; some mornings you wake up and you can hear Captain America's voice in your head. Tony has been an Avenger long enough that he saves his freakout for important things.

Curiosity Changes Everything by @scifigrl47 (T, 6.5k)

Everyone in their life has had a little case of hero worship. A tiny crush on a celebrity. A teenage infatuation.

Dummy Stark-Rogers is not any different.

And the Mars Rover Curiosity is a stunning piece of tech.

Tony Stark Falls In Love With A Cat by shellhead (M, 6.8k)

When Steve goes missing, Tony ends up finding him at an animal shelter. Volunteering.

Like Gene Kelly in the Movies by lyra_wing (M, 11.4k)

Everything Tony Stark does is a dance. And it's super confusing for Steve.

#capimrecweek #stevetony #stony #superhusbands #stony fic rec

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yates49-blog · 5 years ago

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pearwaldorf · 6 years ago

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Ineffable Fictober 2019 #5 - Alpha Centauri

(Other fills can be found in the tag or on AO3)

The cottage in the South Downs isn’t a permanent residence (neither of them are the type to stay away from cities for long), but it does have things you can’t get in London. Like clear skies, for instance.

The study is mostly Aziraphale’s, but Crowley has space carved out for a telescope next to a window. A little antique orrery sits on top of a low bookshelf that contains all manner of things concerning astronomy and the celestial: old star charts from ships, prints of comets and constellations, clever astronomical maps from all over the world.

What surprises Aziraphale are the books. Certainly there are modern tomes: Hawking, Sobel, and Sagan among them; but there are also copies of treatises by Copernicus, Kepler, Newton, and Galileo.

“Is this a first edition of Sidereus Nuncius?” Aziraphale can scarcely believe Crowley’s had this in his possession this entire time and never told him.

Crowley shrugs. “You never seemed all that interested in astronomy, so it never came up.”

“Well you could have told me that was one of the reasons you wanted to go to Cosimo’s party in 1610. We could have gotten it signed!”

“The author’s signature doesn’t make this more or less special, angel.” He holds the book like it’s precious, with a care Aziraphale has only ever seen exercised with the Bentley (or him, a little voice in his head observes).

“But enough of old books. I think we can see Jupiter’s moons tonight, if you want.”

It is strange that in six thousand years on Earth, he has never thought to look up, not in the ways the humans do. And when he spots the moons, stark against the pale stripes of their planet, he feels a bit of awe at not just human ingenuity, but the beauty of creation itself.

—

“So tell me, how did you come by this interest in astronomy?”

Crowley tilts his head, like he’s not sure what angle the question’s coming from. “Like every other human hobby? What exactly are you getting at?”

Aziraphale feels a bit silly now. “Well. There were always rumors that the Fallen remembered bits and pieces of their former lives. And I didn’t know if this was—”

Crowley laughs. “That was way above my level of responsibility. The lamassu had too much actual work creating the stars to pay attention to me. I looked up at the sky like any human on Earth, and I thought they were beautiful, so I wanted to know more about them.”

“So. Can we actually see Alpha Centauri from here?”

Crowley thinks for a moment. “Yeah. I can arrange that.”

He adjusts the telescope, turning the dials this way and that, muttering under his breath the entire time. He frowns and snaps his fingers, looking through the eyepiece until he seems satisfied, and steps away. “Take a look, angel.”

“There are two stars? I wasn’t expecting that.”

“It’s a binary system. They orbit each other, but until you get close enough, it’s hard to tell they’re not one, but two.”

“How terribly romantic.” Aziraphale does not sigh about it, but he very much wants to.

“Romance has nothing to do with it. It’s the closest star!”

“Does it mean you’re taking me there only out of convenience?”

A pause. “So you really want to go, then?”

“I would go anywhere with you, but yes, I would love to see it, as long as you’re by my side.”

—

Notes below the cut

(A first edition Sidereus Nuncius went for about $660,000 at auction in 2010. Crowley's astronomy collection is based in part on the bits of Edward Tufte's book collection which the Nuncius comes from (especially this lovely map). For those of us who don't have that much cash to drop, you can see a digitized version of the Sidereus Nuncius here.

This list of important astronomy books was also helpful. I can recommend Sobel's Galileo's Daughter wholeheartedly as an interesting work of literary nonfiction and scientific/astronomical history.

Alpha Centauri isn't actually visible from the Northern hemisphere, but Crowley would never let physics get in the way of something Aziraphale wants.)

#ineffable fictober 2019 #good omens #ineffable husbands #oh look #pear got a chance to nerd out about astronomical history and took it

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cainwilson-blog · 6 years ago

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Sensitivity Reading

Hey folks! I really want to dip my toes into sensitivity reading.

I'm new to the game and really want to get in some practice before actually seeking out cash in exchange for critique. (My services would be free for now—all that I would require is that you write a testimonial if you found my services to be helpful.) I'm getting my B.A. in Creative Writing, so I do have experience critiquing fiction & poetry in a group setting.

What I Can Cover:

Transgender characters (Preferably FTM, as that’s what I am.)

Characters struggling w/ sexuality

Non-binary characters (I identified as non-binary MANY years before I came out as a trans male.)

Characters with depression

Characters with anxiety

Characters with ADHD

Characters with chronic pain / Fibromyalgia

A Little About Me

My name is Cain! I’m a chronically ill trans man from the humid cesspool that is Florida. I’ve been diagnosed with ADHD, clinical depression, social anxiety disorder, and Fibromyalgia. I’m an undergrad at UCF pursuing a B.A. in Creative Writing. I’m also a professional photographer. My favorite things to do are read, write poems, and snap photos.

Turn Around Time

I can commit to 2-3 chapters per week. I’m a full time student and I’m disabled, so my health and studies will take priority, but I’ll be as quick as I can.

Contact: send me a message on Tumblr or email me at [email protected]

#beta reader #sensitivity reader #writblr #booklr #beta reading #lgbt writing #writing community #writers of tumblr

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darkcherrywitch · 6 years ago

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Behavior Exercise

Hi girls, guys and non-binary pals <3

This is the scond fanfic i write, this one is inspired in a movie called The Road Within and hopefully my first series so please let me know if you want me to keep posting it, maybe is not as good as i think it is haha i’d really appretiate some feedback, also, english is not my first lenguage so please be nice i’m trying :(

WARNINGS: 4k+ mentions of drugs, alcohol and mental illness. This fanfic contains sensitive topics like anorexia, OCD and drug addictions if you feel triggered by any of this topics please do not read it.

“Nineteen, twenty, twenty one, twenty two, twenty three” You could hear Robert whispering a number for each mug whilst cleaning one per one with an anti-bacterial microfiber cloth he just bought yesterday. You take another sip of your non sugared coffee already cold keeping your gaze in your roommate who was onto an old baby blue wooden chair, his favorite, because it was easier to clean than the other ones “Twenty four, twenty five…twenty fiv-five” he stutters with a low voice almost like a secret he can only hear. You put your mug down on the table knowing what is coming next, like every other morning, he just hated odds numbers.

“Five- twenty fiv-five” He keeps repeating walking back and forth all over the kitchen with his hand scratching his head pulling his blonde curls. “Hey, good morning” A deep British accent stops you from standing up and walking towards Robert making him stop as well. He looked at both of you just to switch his gaze feeling the pressure in the air as he continues to grab an empty plastic cup from the kitchen bar assuming he could get in trouble if he gets anywhere near the mugs shelf.

“Morning, did you have a good rest?” You greet with an awkward smile on your face. Harry moved in just a week ago so it is understandable he’s not fully used to Rob’s breakdowns as you are after nine years. You know Rob since secondary school; a catholic schoolhouse in Portlaoise where special and difficult teenagers were sent by his parents to make them better, doesn’t work pretty well if they ask you. Robert and you shared some classes and weekly group’s therapy meetings, however, you only knew him as the schizo boy just to find out, years later, he does not suffer from schizophrenia but a severe ODC and constants paranoid episodes, it all got worst four years ago when he came home to find out his mom had left a day before the graduation night, all she left was a note saying how sorry she was, a load of cash, a blue tuxedo he was supposed to be wearing at the dance and an empty home.

Four years ago

You lost count of how many minutes, maybe hours, you have been staring at the old pink dress your dad had bought you for tonight’s dance, it would be better if he could actually share the evening with you but it was too much to ask, you thought. It had stopped raining some hours ago but a loud splash outside your window snaps you from your deep thoughts about tonight, a rowdy cry followed the splash “SHE LEFT ME, WHY DOES EVERYBODY BLODY LEFT ME?” You ran to your window to see what was happening, and then, you saw Rob on a puddle wearing anything but his underpants and his navy blue tuxedo in his hands all covered in mud, just as him. He was crying and screaming while Miss Gillen held him helping him for hurting himself “MY DAD IS DEAD AND MOM HATES ME, I-I ‘AVE NO ONE, NO ONE FUCKING CARES ABOUT ME” He yelled at the sky escaping from Miss Gillen’s arms slapping mercilessly his face and pulling his blonde hair roughly.

You have spent almost a decade in that hypocrite househole where religious people pretended to know what was good and bad, and even worst, pretending they care about all of you. You knew people were lonely back there, after all, most of you were abandoned by your families, they just gave up on most of you and you were aware of that. You knew everyone there was ill, was broken and alone, new people came and then they left, some people have been taken to the hospital after a breakdown and they have never returned, it was hard to live in a place like that were you could share breakfast with someone just to wake up the next day with their bed empty and another casket full, that’s why you decided to not make any friends, carrying with other person’s problems could destroyed you just as much as losing another loved one, but when you saw him all covered in mire when just yesterday he cried in the middle of the cafeteria because he spilled a drop of tea in his pants something changed in you. You almost didn’t recognize him; it was the same guy who couldn’t even walk outside his bedroom without latex gloves, however he was there outside your room, broken and scared. He had no one and you knew that feeling.

“Rumor has it you have your own place now” You said having a sit next to him in cafeteria two days after the dance. He looked strange at you “do yo-do you eat?” He answered you sharply but those comments didn’t bother you anymore. You smiled at him taking a sip of your water bottle “so, is it true?” You insisted “‘s not mine, ‘s me mums” he mumbled cleaning the spot of the table you just removed your hand from. “But she left” you say abruptly making him look at you, finally getting some strong eye contact, he kept silence trying not to cry, you leaned closer to him and whispered “when are we escaping this hole then?”.

Now

It’s been four years since you convinced Rob to leave that place, four years since you’ve been living together in that house his mom had left for him, and four years of the only caring human interaction you both have; you take care for each other and you could say it was the first time in ages that you haven’t feel lonely.

“Could been better if I’m honest” Harry replies with a cheeky smile “Of course it could have been better, it could have been better if you just would stop yourself from snoring the whole night” Robert cuts Harry off “Did you know he goes to sleep without taking a shower? and WE have to share room it’s just unacceptable, unaccepta- unacceptable” You can see Rob’s face turning red and his eyes looking at you almost popping out at the memory of last night.

“Oh I’m sorry, did my snoring muffle that boring music you sleep with?” Harry says without looking at him as he pours some orange juice to his cup “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate quiet music you cheap ass Mick Jagger” Robert spits roughly making Harry giggle as he decides to stop the argue blowing him a kiss. He was cheeky and irreverent and you like that, Harry was like a new specimen like a new world you wish to explore, it was something you have never seen before, neither you or Rob haven’t met anyone like Harry, you feel excited about this new experience even though now and then you feel guiltiness for making Rob go through this, you know he’s not looking forward this as much as you are, in fact since Harry is living with you Rob’s stress levels has been higher than usual.

When you left the clinic you decided come up with a plan to keep both of you sane, you knew Rob’s money it wasn’t going to last more than a few months and his disability allowance was not enough for both of you, so you decided to get a job and attend to some free therapy session at a community center near Rob’s house, and that’s how Harry came into your life.

One month ago

What it seemed like a normal summer rain predicting its end becomes a dreadful storm within minutes. You make you steps larger covering your head with your old jacked which is completely useless as you try to rush Rob who is a couple steps behind you freaking out because his boots and the bottom of his pants are all covered in mud. There’s only a couple of blocks left to the community center where both of you attend to the weekly sessions that keep yourself sort of sane. You arrive to the center soaking wet and just in time to the session, however, you spend a few minutes taking care of Rob helping him to clean himself.

Both of you take a seat in the circle in the middle of the huge cold room; the therapist, Arthur welcomes you with a big smile understanding the weather was not something you could control or change. “So now that we’re complete…” he stand up and says looking at Rob and you “Are you okay, Robert?” he asks kindly to what Rob just nods “great, now I want to start this meeting introducing our new member, he comes all the way from London so I ask you to be nice and make him feel welcome”.

You were too busy taking care of your friend and cursing at the wind that you haven’t notice the new member of the group; a tall white guy with silky curls, they seem recently wet as well even tho he doesn’t look bother about it. Your gaze travels his figure from bottom to top; he’s wearing some old used boots, a pair of blue jeans and a grey hoodie. You notice his big and strong hands as he says hi to the group with one of them; both decorated with multiple rings, It’s not until your glance meets his big emerald eyes ornamented with some bags under them that you realized you are probably staring too much, as you try to look somewhere else you see he offers a smile at you; not yet a malicious one, not yet a kindly one, it was more like something in between; a cheeky lovely but arrogant smile.

“Hi, I’m Harry, Nice to meet you all” He says briefly without taking his eyes off of you he looks at the rest of the group smiling still just to sit down again. You could hear some distant and slow claps, probably your partners are just as confused as you; most of the introductions were followed by a whole crazy story of why are they there and even some tears and breakdowns but never just a cheeky smile and a breathtaking glance. “You probably want to tell us why you’re here Harry” Arthur says looking at him.

“’kay, if you want me to” He says rubbing his palms on his thighs looking at the ground until he speaks again “…I’m a sex addict” he looks up staring challenging at Arthur chuckling. Arthur looks quite annoyed he probably knows what the newbie’s here for, you’ve shared these sessions with some sex addicts they only last two or three weeks top, but you are pretty sure he’s just joking. “Probably just another junkie” Rob speaks up louder than he expected. The whole room is filled with silence for a couple seconds even you fell Harry deep gaze on Rob “Wanna bet pretty boy? can show you”

“Harry is here because he’s trying to keep himself sober and we’re to help him, okay?” Arthur interrupts quickly “He’s new in town so if you know about some apartment available for him would be a great favor”. The rest of the session keeps going pretty normal even though you can’t focus on any of your partners, you are too confused yet intrigued about the whole new guy situation; after that interaction you can tell Rob has been tense since then, on the other side Harry seems cool about it, you were expecting him being an asshole with the rest of the group as they share their week with you, but instead he listens carefully, looking attentive to each person who stands up, he even shares some advices with them, good advices. Robs is kind of right, he is a junkie, still he is not just another junkie, there was something different about him and you want it to find out.

“Hey, so the new guy is looking for somewhere to live” You say to Rob who was cleaning the snack table of the therapy room. “There are a lot of bridges he can live under” He replies without looking at you, he was too focused stacking some water bottles carefully. You take a piece of fruit and a bottle of water as you feel Arthur Gaze on you “I was thinking he can live with us, we have a spare room” Robert stops abruptly his stacking process just to give you a perplexed look “are you seriously suggesting me to offer my house to a bloody drug addict we just literally met just because he’s hot?”

“C’mon… I never said he was hot” Rob turns his face back to the table cleaning something else you don’t even see “That’s not the point, I’m not letting a stranger sleeping under my roof” “You let me sleep under your roof, beside, we can actually use some extra money” you say looking for the new guy in the room “and he seems fun” Robert grunts rolling his eyes at the sight of you looking for him. “Robert, Y/N, we’re about to the closure would you please join us?” Arthur says from a distance. “take it as behavior exercise” You insist Rob with a begging look with both of your hands together “I’ll think about it” He cuts the conversation walking away from you.

One week ago

You make your way into de kitchen to find Rob finishing his cleaning routine; you overslept this morning understandable after keeping yourself with almost anything but water for the last three days. “Morning babe” You said weakly to your friend as he quickly reach a chair for you to sit “Hey, I made you some breakfast” He says as he opens the fridge taking out a plate with fruit and oats “There’s no need Rob, I’m going to be late to work” You say as you try to stand up but he grabs your arm in order to stop you from getting up, you look at his hand wrapped around your arm and look back at him in shock; his germophobia doesn’t let him have any physical interaction with other people, he never touches anybody and freaks out when somebody touches him. Is the first time in years you’ve feel his touch; even though he’s wearing latex gloves as usual you can feel the warm emanating from his big and soft hand.

“You might take care of me most of the time but I’m not stupid Y/N, I know you haven’t eaten a full meal in four days, so please, sit down and eat your breakfast” He finally releases your arm as he walks to his room to probably change his gloves. The whole situation leaves so speechless that you don’t have any other choice to do what you’ve been told. You can’t remember a time when Robert has ever touched you or at least without having a crisis, definitely your relationship has grown a lot in those couple years and now it seems like he cares about you more every day and part of you couldn’t just let him down.

As you keep eating your meal and thinking about your relationship with Rob a knock on the door snaps you out to reality and you hear Rob rushing to the door “no, no, you can’t leave the table until you finish”. He reaches to the door and takes a big breathe before open it just to find a pair of emerald eyes looking at him “Oh Hi, nice to see you again Pretty boy” Harry says after finishing his cigarette and stepping on it “Oh it’s you, what do you want?” he asks hiding half of his body behind the door. Harry smirks and shows him the black suitcase he was holding. Robert knew what he was there for he just forgot about it when he looked into his eyes. Today is the day that Harry moves into the house; after a couple endless nights convincing Rob of letting him stay today you got yourself a new roommate.

“Oh, right, come on in, I guess” Rob says opening the door wider for Harry to come in. “Take your shoes off” Robert adds without looking at him walking towards the kitchen “Normally I only accept to take my clothes off after a couple of drinks but for you pretty b..” “We don’t use shoes inside the house, that’s the first rule, it’s not a joke” Rob cuts Harry off abruptly facing him again “Okay, take it easy they’re off” Harry says without erasing his cheeky smile of his face “I think we didn’t even say hi properly ” Harry adds offering his hand to Rob, he has heard that he’s quite special to interact with but there’s no person in the world that Harry can’t just win over, he’s irrelevant and funny and just full of natural charm, everybody likes him and he’s aware of that but there is something in Rob Harry just feels attracted to, he likes to push his buttons it’s like a challenge and he has always loved a good challenge.

Robert stares at Harry’s Hand for a moment “I don’t do that” he adds looking back into Harry’s eyes “you don’t do handshakes?” Harry replies chuckling at Rob’s weird affirmation; who doesn’t do handshakes? “I don’t touch people” Robert replies almost yelling at Harry; his face started to turn red and his breathe is getting harder to catch. Harry’s afraid maybe he went too far but it was not his intention at all, he like to mess with people but not like that. “Hey, it’s fine, hi Harry”

You rushed to finish your plate as soon as you heard Harry’s deep voice coming from the door not because you feel excited but because you’re worried about Rob’s reaction, after all they didn’t have a great first meeting. You follow their voices that lead you to the living room; Harry was wearing some regular skinnies and a black t-shirt somehow on him that simple outfit looks like the most complex combination of clothing, a bunch of tattoos covered his arms making him look cooler than the junkie you see every Friday night. Robert raising his voice makes you stop staring at your new roommate and actually talk to him.

“Hey, N/Y, morning” Harry answers with a big smile on his face, you don’t remember his skins glowing as much as it does today it is hard not to stare at him. “Are you ready to move in?” You ask nicely as Robert tries to calm down adjusting his gloves and taking deep breathes “Yep, pretty much” Harry says pointing at his suitcase. You show him the place; is not too big it’s only a small one floor house with three bedrooms but it’s a way to make him feel comfortable. As you show him around Robert starts telling him the most important rules of the house and Harry only nods at both of you.

“So this would be your room” you say finishing the house tour opening the door between Rob’s bedroom and yours “As we told you before It’s not habitable right now, we need to fix the roof and most of the walls they’re almost ruined by humidity, we were thinking maybe with the deposit and probably your first payment we can like fix it meanwhile you can share room with Robert if that’s okay with you” You say showing him where the humidity has damage the roof “Sure, it’s going to be a pleasure” Harry winks at Robert who seems bothered enough already. You can see how annoyed Rob is by this new roommate situation, however, you know if he wouldn’t agree with this he would tell you, besides somehow it seems like he’s more anxious that bothered about it; he thinks you didn’t realize but you saw him cleaning his room twice last night a strange way to say he’s excited about the next day. Maybe both of you are excited about sharing your life with someone new, someone as special as Harry seems to be, maybe it’s just attraction, maybe it’s just Harry’s aura that makes everyone go a little bit crazy about him or maybe it’s only your mind playing tricks on you but at that moment you realized something in your life is about to change drastically and you quite like that.

Now

“C’mon Y/N you have to finish it” Robert says with his elbows on the table resting his head on both of his hands, you’ve been struggling to finish your meal for almost an hour now and Robert is more than exhausted now, you can see it and you feel bad of seeing those lovely green eyes so tired because of you but you just can´t finish it. “I can´t Robert I promise” You say pouting your mouth on a failed attempt of leaving the table. Harry just appears on the kitchen and watches the scene grabbing an apple “take it as a behavior exercise” Rob adds with an exhausted voice. “Behavior exercise? what’s that? Harry asks with his mouth full of the bite he just took.

“Back in the schoolhouse we had exercises to learn how to deal with our illnesses; they made us do things to get tour limits and they just acted like nothing was happening at all” you say playing with the food on your plate. “Once they made me walk with dirty trousers for a whole day!” Robert continues giving Harry an indignant look. Robs turns back at you pushing your plate closer to you.

“Interesting” Harry responds taking the seat in front of you; he search for your gaze and looks right into your eyes getting your full attention as he usually does whenever he’s near you. “C’mon Y/N you’re better than a plate of food, are you gonna let a couple of vegetables defeat you?” the room is filled with silence as he smiles at you and leaves the kitchen making his way out to the porch. If anyone else would say that to you you would throw the plate at them with no hesitation, but the way those words left his mouth like he knew everything about yourself plus the way he looked at you just made you believe every single of them. You look back at Robert who was already falling asleep on the table and continue to finish your meal.

Once your plate is empty you help Robert to go to bed and clean your dishes as you always do. You remember Harry’s outside and decide to make him company smoking your nightly cigarette as usual. He was laying half of his body on the wooden bench of the porch. He looks so lost in his thoughts you almost feel guilty about interrupting because as soon as you step outside he turns and smiles widely at you “How was your behavior exercise?” he say probably joking or probably actually concerned you never know what his intentions are, that man was a complete enigma to you. “Beat the fuck out if it” you say quietly as you stand beside him lighting the last cigarette of the pack. He chuckles loudly in responds.

After that you just stay there enjoying the silence and the smoke coming out of both of your cigarettes; the night is particularly quiet, the stars are shinier and the wind juts take the bunch of your thoughts and concerns with it. It’s nice to spend time with someone who’s not constantly asking if you have washed your hands already or telling you how disgusting is the habit of smoking. None of you feel the need to fill the lack of conversation at that moment; you are so focused on enjoying the moment that you almost don’t realize that out of nowhere Harry decides to break the silence with a question.

“Why did you let me stay in here?” He asks with a husky voice keeping his eyes on his cigarette “Robert thinks you’re hot” you respond after a couple of seconds and even though you are looking at the sky you can feel Harry smiling at your answer. “yeah, well, I don’t blame him” he says annoyingly turning his body towards you “but I’m sure that’s not the only reason why you guys let a good-looking junkie staying at your place, and if you do I’m quite concerned, I must reckon” you face him narrowing your eyes at his smart ass answer.

“Robert and I have this weird dream of make a sheltered for people in need, people who have been abandoned by their families like us, we saw a chance on you” you say letting the smoke of you cigarette fill your lungs and letting it out. “It’s like the biggest behavior exercise you ever had then?” Harry says with an adorable voice, one you’ve never heard before “You might say” You say smiling at him just to continue enjoying the clear sky above you.

#fanfiction #fanfic #behavior exercise #Harry Styles #angst #fluff #imagine #SOFT!HARRY #robert sheehan

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