#he's available for 21 days right???

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

LOOK AT THE BOI!!!! THEY JUST ANNOUNCED IT!!!

I KNOWWWWWWW HE'S SO CUTE I NEED HIM IN MY HOUSE. BITING HIM BITING HIM BITING HIM

[bogleech]

TOP TEN DINOSAURUSES

maybe you're wondering my most tenned favorite dinosauruses??? The science study of dinasacacers is called "dinosaurusology" by leading experts like myself, and it is constantly changing as we make new uncoveries almost every tuesday when we find new bones in my cousin rob's garage (he hasn't thrown anything out since the 90's!) As such bear in mind that up to two facts I am about to share could become dated over the course of the next century, however as both the king and queen of science this will only be true if I'm still available to approve the new facts. If I'm dead or kind of tired then nobody will ever know what's true anymore so you should be nice to me. #10: OVIRAPTOR

OVIRAPTOR was a good model for what all dinosacans were like: it was a wrinkly lizard that slithered in filthy dirt and had difficulty standing upright because its bones were made of rocks. This is why we have the term "the stone age," so be grateful you're living in "the bone age!" Oviraptor's name means "eggs velociraptor" because it was a kind of velociraptor that stole eggs. It didn't know what to do with them because nobody invented cooking yet and raw dinosaur eggs were disgusting, so every oviraptor starved to death.

#9: IGUANADON

This was the last known photograph of IGUANA DON (not to be confused with his cousin iguana dan) when george washington invented photographs 2 million years ago. Don was an ugly disgusting hilarious lizard monster with one horn on its nose and he died because he evolved a dining room in his torso exactly the right size for 21 cavemen to walk in and eat his kidneys. This was not helped by don's instinct to sleep on a big porch under a chandelier.

#9 DIMETRODON

DIMETRODON was the most common dinosaur of jurassic, which was the fifth and final era of dinosaurs after the ice age but before the ediacaran. In fact dimetrodon was the very last dinosaur to ever exist on earth before they were all eaten to death by the ediacaran's dominant predator: a species of swirly looking weird rock. Nobody knows why these swirly looking weird rocks died out, but it's most likely because dimetrodon was so poisonous from its diet of entirely pufferfish. You can tell it was a sea dinosaur because of its fish fin! #8: PTERADACTYL

PTERODACTYL was a regular dinosaur until it got married to a species of bat and its bat wife laid a bunch of pterodactyl eggs! This woodcut is however inaccurate: flying would not be invented until president obama discovered the first airplane in 1998, so pterodactyl couldn't possibly have stayed in the air and just immediately fell. The long 900 million year reign of the pterodactyl abruptly ended when the last one finally hit the ground (it took longer in those days because the oxygen disaster made so much more air) #7 SNORKASAURUS

SNORKASAURUS was completely unique among all dinocaurs by having a really long neck. It was one of the largest creatures to ever roam the earth at over 7 feet tall, or exactly 12 meters to those of you living in Liberia or Myanmar! This is the last known photograph of snorkasaurus, giving birth to the first cavemen. Snorkasaurus went extinct because all of them did this instead of making baby snorkasauruses. This is because like all dinosaurii they had only a tiny peanut for a brain, and nobody was around to give them 'the talk' because that wasn't invented yet.

#6 SMILODON

SMILODON was a very special dinosaurn because it was the first one to stand up on its hind legs after years of rigorous exercise and weight training. By inventing this new way of walking, Smilodon made it possible for the first monkeys to evolve! This is called "convergent" evolution.

#5 BULBASAUR

BULBASAUR was a majestic and beautiful species of neopet unfortunately disliked by the scientific community because it is the reason there are no flying dinosuars. Bulbasaur was the first ever flying dyanasar ever invented, 19 billion years ago on September 10, 2001, but the project was discontinued when its first test flight ended in a tragic accident. That's right: on September 11, 2001, Bulbasaur crashed into the stock market, causing the great depression that lead to the civil war :'( now to this very day, flying dinosarers are against the law.

#4 YOSHI

YOSHI is a type of dinersaulophus called a "bird," which was actually the second attempt by early neanderthal alchemists to manufacture a street legal flying dinnersauran, but the New Zealand government realized if dinophlofbuses can fly, then bats would no longer be special, and since bats are New Zealand's only major export it would have been an economic disaster. The queen of Australia (New Zealand's largest city) ordered the CIA to sand all of the wings off of these early prototype birds. Every bird tragically went extinct when it looked down, noticed how high up it was and remembered it could not fly, activating the effects of Earth's gravitational field.

#3 ANOMALOCARIS

ANOMALOCARIS was the dinosorcerous that discovered the first primitive cave painting of a modern day crab and invented carcinisation. All the other dinanders laughed at Anomalocaris for wanting to turn into a crab, but guess what??? Every single kind of dinosaur is dead but there's a crab still alive at 29, making it the oldest person in the world. Who's FUCKING laughing now!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#2 EARL SINCLAIR

This is the last known photograph of Earl Sinclair, seen here as an uncredited extra in "Avatar 3: Lost in New York." Earl Sinclair was a sindonaur species that could disguise itself as a human by putting on sunglasses, a necessary adaptation in order to hide from the largest predator dancasore to ever live: Mellisuga helenae. However, near the end of the coal age, M. Helenae finally remembered that sunglasses hadn't even been invented yet. Look carefully, and you'll notice nobody is wearing sunglasses at all in this scene, making Earl Sinclair stick out like a sore thumb! If you're still having difficulty, here's a zoomed in image of this majestic thunder lizard:

Unfortunately......this wardrobe malfunction made Mr. Sinclair just as obvious to his ancient enemy, and the last Earl Sinclair's brains were sucked out on September 11, 2001, the darkest day in British history because he was the only one who knew the recipe to chicken mcnuggets (the only british food.) To this day all british people are extinct but you can still see their fossilized skeletons waiting in line at the department of motor vehicles.

#1 CONCAVENATOR

Concavenator was an Early Cretaceous carcharodontosaurid up to six meters in length with an unusual pointed crest on its back.

[henry7931]

Summer Bod Part 1 (SwapCorp Story)

Tons of people around the world are trying out the latest advancement in body swapping technology. All led by a company called SwapCorp. SwapCorp allows its clients to selectively choose an ideal body provided with what characteristics/ features the client wants. Once a suitable body is available, the client comes in with their body knowing some else will be using it and leaving with a new one.

This is where our story begins.

Justin Samuels (age 21, 5,3”, 145 pounds, caucasian, red hair, slim build) who is the first person he knows thats trying out SwapCorp. Justin describes himself as a bit of a book worm, has a small friend group, gay, and wants to try a more ‘muscular/ masculine body’. He wants to do a 3 month contract for his swap.

SwapCorp pairs him with David (age 25, 6,2”, 218 pounds,caucasian, dark brown hair, muscular build). David is a personal trainer who wants to explore the opposite gender. Luckily with SwapCorp their algorithm matches the precise swaps necessary for their client’s satisfaction.

So now let’s see how Justin is adjusting to his new body!

Justin:

God this all still feels so surreal, granted it’s only been one day since I got this new body from SwapCorp. But I’m so happy with my swap! I love this body!!

I feel sexy and confident with all of these muscles. And I can’t wait to show off my new temporary self this summer.

I was never the athletic type, I spent more time studying than going to the gym in college but that’s the reason why I’m so successful right now.. Started a part time job, graduated early, and I’m starting grad school in the fall that’s covering all of my bills.

So I figured why not splurge some of my savings and actually have a good time this summer.

And today feels like the true start of it. I’m planning on going to the beach with all of my friends and I can’t wait for them to see me! They are going to be so jealous.

Yesterday, after leaving SwapCorp I spent my entire time exploring this beautiful body. And I feel a little embarrassed to admit just how many times I jerked off.

But I can’t help it, I’m just so turned on by this body! Plus, I paid good money for it.

And speaking of jerking off, I’m already hard! What’s really been getting me are these sexy feet.

I know feet aren’t for everybody but I’ve always had a fetish for them. I’ve spent countless hours jerking off to jock feet porn on the internet. Even in school, when I’d see some of the jocks wearing sandals or chacos— it would take all of my energy not stare at their feet.

And now I have these gorgeous size 11s! They’re so much bigger than my size 9s. And I can do whatever I want with them. Sniff them for hours, run my tongue across the soles, I even came on them 2 times yesterday just to lick it off.

Oh boy all this talk about my big jock feet is making my new dick leak. Speaking of which this thing has a mind of its own!

It’s longer and thicker than mine paired off with a nice set of hairy balls. I had to trim back my pubes a bit. I can tell this is a straight guy’s body since he doesn’t manscape that much. ( Luckily, I took care of all that for him. )

But I can go rounds of jerking this big meat! Even back to back, somehow this body just continues to pour out cum.

I grab it and it’s so hard. I take the head and rub it on the sole of my foot.

“Fuuuuuck, that feels good!”

I start rubbing my dickhead faster on my foot and just feeling both touch sends shocks through me.

I lift up my hairy armpit and take sniff. Wow those stink!

I sit my foot down and start jerking my meat. I need to speed this up so I’m not late for my big new bod reveal.

I pump aggressively, I love how much this dick can handle versus my old one.

I go faster and faster… moaning loudly. My moans are almost like screams. I stair down at my fit stomach and hairy legs/feet.

It sends me over the edge and I squirt out so much cum. Before I get up, I take my thick jock fingers and grab all of the cum off my stomach. I lick each finger clean before heading over to my shower.

*30 minutes later*

Okay now I think I’m ready to introduce my new body to my friends.

My friends and I are a lot like. Alex, Max, Will, and I all share the same interests like our education, video games, comics, boys… I guess the only way to put it is that we are 4 gay nerds lol. But I love our little crew.

I head to the beach early and told them where to meet me. I haven’t sent any photos of my body yet so this should be fun!

I take off all of the clothes I had on over my new red speedo. I figure this is one way to make an impression. I run tanning oil all over my body and lay back waiting on them.

That’s when I see all three shuffling their way down the beach.

“Hey boys!” I holler out to them.

All of them look stunned by my presence.

“Oh my god, is that you Justin?,” says Alex.

I flex my arms just to show off a bit before saying, “Yep! This is the new me.”

“Holy crap! That body!!,” says Will.

I stand up and all of them are drooling over me. Mex even asks me if he can touch my abs.

“Go for it bro!”

Alex giggles, “oh so now we’re your bros.”

“Yeah with a body like this I have to get all of my ‘straight’ lingo down.”

“Shit, Justin how much was all of this? Do you have any side effects?”

“Surprisingly affordable and no I haven’t had any side effects.”

“Wow! This is so crazy, I can’t believe that’s you inside.”

I grin at all of my friends amazed by my new body.

We rented a boat to take on the water so we all hop on and all three of them can’t stop looking at me.

I sit in the back while Alex drove, Will and Max continue to ask me questions about the process.

Will even took a photo of me which I jokingly said to him, “hey don’t jerk to that pic later haha.”

“Lol no promises,” he says back.

All around it was a fun day, we ended up getting food afterwards and by the end we made plans for dinner tomorrow.

As I get back to my place, I wash off all of the salt water and sand. And went straight to my bed.

I laid in bed fully naked just gingerly fondling my dick and balls. All I can think about is how much my friends lusted after my new body.

I look down at my hard dick and grinned. Maybe it’s time to upload a couple of pics to Grindr. I’m ready for some real action!

*The Next Day*

I get a text from Alex that he has an emergency and for me to come over to his place immediately.

I quickly got dressed and rushed over. I get to his door and text that I’m here.

He responds, “it’s unlocked, come up to my bedroom.”

I thought the text was strange but Alex and I are probably the closest in our crew so I trust him.

I go up his stairs and open up his bedroom door.

And to my surprise I see a very hot guy laying in his bed.

“Surprise mothafucka!!”

“ALEX?!?”

“Yep! What do you think?”

“Holy shit! You went to SwapCorp? Oh wow you are… so freaking hot now!”

“Thanks! Now Justin we’re buddies, so why can’t we help eachother out a bit,” Alex pulls the blanket down realizing a massive hard on between his new legs.

“Wow! Are we about to hook up?”

“Only if you’re down!”

“Hell yeah!”

I strip off all of my clothes and hop into bed with him. We immediately start making out, we get so into it and I naturally gravitate my mouth down his chest to his cock.

I start sucking him off and he lets out these loud moans.

“Justin… god, this feels amazing!”

I lift my head up and I say, “this isn’t your first BJ right?”

He doesn’t say anything and just grins at me.

“Well… I guess I feel honored to your first.”

I fondle his balls while taking his dick deep down my throat. He’s convulsing from all of the pleasure.

“Oh god! Hold on Justin! I don’t wanna cum yet!”

I pull my mouth off and take my hand off of his balls.

“I have a weird request and you can say no to me,” he says nervously.

“Sure man!”

“Can I smell your feet?”

My eyes widen, holy crap Alex has a foot fetish?

“Oh my god yeah! As long as you let me smell your sexy toes!”

We both position ourselves to wear each others feet are directly in view.

His big jock feet are soooo hot!

I put my face into them and start licking between each of his toes.

I feel him tracing my soles and he says to me, “wait till you see Will and Max…”

“WHAT?!?”

God this is about to be the BEST summer!

[landoom]

My thoughts on the Williams drama...

Williams fucked up by not having a 3rd chassis available but that proves that the team is struggling even more than we thought.

Alex fucked up with his crash...

I wonder if they had previously discussed or thought about what to do in case one of the chassis was damaged.

The decision of having Alex take Logan's chassis is unfair. We know it and Williams know it too!

Still, it makes sense in a more objective and "cold" point of view. Alex is more experienced and consistently better than Logan. With the chaos that the race could be, there might be points to gain and Williams decided to take their best chance at that.

It's bad for Logan at a human level because we all know he sometimes lacks a bit of confidence and needs to drive the car as much as possible.

It's not that good for Alex neither because he has even more pressure to deliver!

It's not good for the dynamic in the team, of course.

Still, for those wanting to stop supporting Williams or thinking they "lied" to us about the gentle parenting dynamic they showed in the media, I'm sorry but you were a bit naive! Whatever a team may show, at the end of the day, it's the money that counts! (see next point). Does that mean everything was a lie? No! Just that there are priorities to follow!

For those thinking it's not "battling for the championship", it is! Everything is very close between all the teams at the moment. Of course, it's too early to tell how the season will pan out and how the teams will perform on the long run but 1 or 2 points grabbed here could make a difference at the end! And ending the championship one place higher means a lot more money for the team! Williams needs the money!

Is it bad for Logan's carreer? It's not good as it's a missed opportunity to show what he's worth. But it might not matters. There are 21 races left after this one. Plenty of time for Logan to prove himself! Of course, he's loosing track time but he can still do good later!

Is it a proof Williams don't plan to keep Logan? Probably but objectively, I don't think it changes anything! Logan's seat for next year was at risk before. Especially with all the movements going around!

Is it a move to keep Alex next year? I'm pretty sure it is! Alex is courted by many teams and even if he says he wants to keep working with Williams, showing him he's their #1 driver might play a part in Alex's decision!

In the end, it's a messed up situation... It's not a good one nor for Logan nor for Alex nor for the team. Is this the right decision? We can't say now and, to be honest, we probably will never know!

I won't stop supporting Logan, Alex, James, Williams, because of this! Because I've been watching F1 for so long, I'm not disappointed anymore when I realise that this sport is about money first and foremost. I'm sorry if you're discovering that today :-(

[aedesluminis]

On Anne-Marie Robinot, Saint-Just's mother

What follows is a personal translation I did of an excerpt taken from the historian Stefania Di Pasquale's book Storie di Madri (A History of mothers) which includes a chapter on Louis-Antoine's mother. The notes at the end are included in the original work.

Marie-Anne Robinot was born in Décize on the 16th of January 1734, the daughter of Jeanne Philiberte Houdry (1712-1745) and Léonard Robinot (1701-1776), king’s counsel, royal notary and procurator in the bourg of Décize.

There are no contemporary pictures of this woman, but that doesn’t mean she was less important than others; the lack of any representation is probably due to the centuries that have passed since her death and to the destruction of personal belongings which occurred right after Robespierre’s fall and also, in particular, during the Restoration of the old European monarchies starting with the Congress of Vienna of 1815.

We don’t know much about her early years, except that she grew up among the Décize haute bourgeoisie of the 18th century and that she received a good education.

The French historian Ernest Hamel, who had met Saint-Just’s nephews for his grandfather was an intimate of the latter, wrote the following in his biography Histoire de Saint-Just:  «Madame de Saint-Just was a charming and charitable woman, who outlived her son by a few years, she was sad by nature; she had loved with excessive love this predestined son, who until the last day returned her motherly tenderness with filial adoration. » (1)

Marie-Anne was a very religious woman, attached to her family, but compared to her contemporaries, who submitted to paternal will on certain matters such as those concerning arranged marriages, and, although she loved and respected her father, she believed it was unfair that parents could decide the future of their children, especially when they were already sentimentally attached to another person. This is what eventually happened to Marie-Anne.

Mademoiselle Robinot fell in love with Monsieur Louis-Jean Saint-Just de Richebourg, knight of the royal and military order of Saint-Louis, marshal of the gendarme company under the title of Berry, son of Marie-Françoise Adam and Charles de Saint-Just.

The age gap between the two was of twenty years: he, a mature man, and she, a young thirty years old woman still unmarried.

Marie-Anne had already the occasion to show her obstinacy just a couple of months after meeting captain Saint-Just.

Unfortunately their union would have been opposed by her father, who didn’t approve their relationship since he considered Louis-Jean as a simple peasant son of humble origins. Monsieur Robinot didn’t consider his future brother-in-law equal to his rank. But perhaps was it just an excuse? At the time the Robinot family was composed of men only and a female figure, who knew how to handle domestic servants, was much needed. The young woman wasn’t evidently of the same opinion and, on the suggestion of some notary friends of her, she resorted to the only means available at the time to counter paternal authority: les sommations respectueuses.

During the Ancien Régime the law required the father’s consent to celebrate a marriage, but in case it was denied, people over 25 could counter the refusal through a process called sommations respectueuses. To accomplish that, one had to rely on a notary and ask the family members three times for the written consent. After that, if the request kept being denied, the person could still proceed with the marriage.

Determined to fulfill her dream, Marie-Anne took courage against her paternal authority and on 21 March 1766 she appeared before her father together with notary Grenot and two other witnesses both belonging to the nobility.

Outraged by such audacity, Léonard Robinot pretended to be absent. The same occurred on 22 March. The following day, the 23, the day of the last visit, Robinot left the house defeated, without uttering a single word. Happy and contented, the next day Marie-Anne signed the marriage contract and the ceremony was set for 30 May 1766.

The two married in Verneuil with a quick ritual, celebrated by the uncle of the spouse, Antoine Robinot, and among the wedding witnesses there were a carpenter, a merchant and a cabaret comedian (two of them couldn’t either read or write).

In a rage, the rest of the Robinot Family didn’t even want to go out of their house to see the spouses, especially the disobedient daughter. Surely the intimacy of the ceremony was thought necessary to avoid their reprimand.

Marie-Anne got pregnant a few months after the marriage and on the 25th of August 1767 a child was born, who one day would have made history, who would have fought and died for the freedom of his country.

The chosen name was that of Louis-Antoine, Louis like his father and Antoine like his uncle and godfather, the abbot Antoine Robinot.

The little Saint-Just was baptized the same day he was born in the church of Saint-Aré (Décize) and, according to the customs of the time, he was placed in the care of a wet nurse in Verneuil who lived in a house next to his uncle's. A few years later his sisters were born as well: Loise-Marie-Antoine in 1768 and Marie-Françoise-Victoire in 1769.

In 1771, however, Antoine Robinot died, the Saint-Just family was forced to take their son back and move to Nampcel, to the house which once belonged to Charles de Saint-Just (1676-1766), Anoine’s paternal grandfather. Marie Madeleine, sister of Louis-Jean, was there to welcome them.

They lived together peacefully for some time, then the family moved again to Marie-Anne’s paternal household in Décize.

According to the French historian Bernard Vinot, Léonard Robinot was a good grandfather, who doted on little Louis-Antoine. However the joy of that peaceful life was short-lived.

In 1776 Robinot died and the Saint-Just family moved one last time to the rural village of Blérancourt. It was a graceful and tranquil place. There, thanks to his military merits, Louis-Jean obtained consideration and privileges, usually reserved to the lower nobility.

Léonhard’s inheritance was split among his children and on 18 July 1776 the heirs sold the house in Décize to Claude Leblanc: that was the last time one could find the Saint-Just spouses’ signature in the town of Décize.

And so Louis-Antoine left in July 1776 the place where he had spent the first four years of his life forever, but he would have never forgotten the mountains and the river Loire, from where the fairies and myths of his work Organt would have come out. (2)

[...] Unfortunately a large part of the familial correspondence [between Saint-Just and his family] was destroyed both during the persecutions the family endured after the death by decapitation of Louis-Antoine and after the dreadful Restauration which started with the Congress of Vienna of 1815.

[...] Other than the pain caused by the death of her beloved son, Madame Saint-Just had to endure the humiliations of the Directory political police.

A mother who until the very end kept like relics those few belongings of her son, saving them from the thermidorian fury; today one can see those mementos in a display case placed in Saint-Just’s house, now a museum, in Blérancourt. In these cases it’s possible to admire a book of the young revolutionary man still with the violet he had put inside as a bookmark; a bronze plaque with an angel on it (once it used to be in Louis-Antoine’s bedroom) and a quill. That was all the poor mother could save, since even the young man’s clothes had been sold to the authorities.

Marie-Anne didn’t even have a grave to mourn her son, buried without clothes to prevent someone from reclaiming those tortured bodies. For Louis-Antoine’s remains were thrown into a mass grave in the Parisian Errancis cemetery, close to Parc Monceau.

Today this cemetery doesn’t exist anymore and the 119 human remains were moved to the catacombs in Paris.

From a missive by Madame Saint-Just sent to the prefecture of the Aisne Department, we know that the authorities still refused to give her back some of the belongings, despite the fact that fifteen years had passed since her son’s death:

To the Prefect of the Department of Aisne, member of the Legion of Honour. Marie-Anne Robinot, widow of the defunct Monsieur Louis de Saint-Just, former cavalry captain in Blérancourt and currently residing there, has the honour to notify you that, following the event of 9 Thermidor Year II, a commission named through a decree of the District of Chauny came to my house to seize all property titles belonging to me and my children, because of the sentence pronounced against Louis de Saint-Just, my son, representative in the National Convention; and that, as a consequence of that event another decree was released that allowed the return of the belongings to the parents of the convicts; I am in need of the titles of which I am concerned and which are currently deposited in the Archives of the prefecture of Aisne, I want to have the honour to ask the Prefect to be so kind to order the collection and delivery of my belongings through you; by doing so you shall have my most sincere gratitude and respect, Monsieur le Préfet, your humble and obedient servant. Widow Saint-Just. Presented on 18 February 1809.

[...] After the death of her son and with age advancing, on 5 June 1807, Marie-Anne decided to make a will, leaving everything to her two daughters:

To Louise, I leave a house, with a kitchen with a small cellar, an attic, a tool shed, gardens for 21 hectares with fruit trees, everything located in Blérancourt in Rue de la Chouette. To Victoire, a house with two rooms, a cellar, a hallway, an attic and office rooms, everything in Blérancourt in Rue de la Chouette. (3)

Madame Saint-Just died of a cholera epidemic four years after writing this small testament on 11 February 1811 in her house in Blérancourt, leaving the void and mourning of her daughters and nephews.

(1) Ernest Hamel, Histoire de Saint-Just, Paris, Poulet-Mallasis et de Braise, 1859, p. 26.

(2) In May 1789 in Paris L’Organt was published, it’s a poem divided into twenty chants in which Saint-Just criticized the absolute monarchy and clerical hierarchies.

(3) Claire Cioti, Saint-Just, cit.

[ovaryacted]

POOLSIDE || Dieter Bravo

PAIRING: Dieter Bravo x lifeguard! afab reader || WC: 1.8k

SYNOPSIS: You take a job as a private lifeguard for a Hollywood actor. Turns out, you got much more than what you bargained for.

CONTENT/WARNINGS: MDNI/18+. NSFW. Smutty. Drug usage - weed via a joint. Lots of banter and cursing. Ambiguous age gap [Dieter is canon age, Reader is 21+]. Allusions to sex (pussy eating). Dieter may be ooc due to unfamiliarity. He is still: horny, unhinged, and loves drugs. Ending leaves much to the imagination. I don't know how Hollywood agents or lifeguarding work, just have fun with it, it's supposed to be funny.

A/N: Hey there, surprise! This is for the Summer Lovin' Challenge hosted by @pedgito! I got "by the water" for Dieter Bravo with the prompt: you can’t keep distracting me while I work, and this is what I came up with. I will admit, I am fairly unfamiliar with Dieter as a whole, though I had to read a bunch of other fics to get a sense of who he is, so this was a challenge. But I hope this is enjoyable to those who like him cause I had a little fun going out of my comfort zone. This is my first time writing for this character and I am rusty, please be nice. Dividers are by @saradika-graphics. Anyway, likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated. <3

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | AO3

When you signed up for a lifeguard gig from a Hollywood agent, you expected to watch over some celebrities’ kids by their large private pool, racking up hundreds for babysitting spoiled brats and lounging by the best-filtered chlorine available. Yet what you got was the complete opposite. Instead of watching over little kids, you were burdened to monitor an overgrown child in the body of a man.

Dieter Bravo. You’ve heard of him, some veteran actor you never really paid much attention to. The name sounded distantly familiar, remembering him at some award shows like the Oscars and recalling his name popping up in some of the selections. At the end of the day, you didn’t give much of a fuck who he was, but when you could take a job with a stipend large enough it would give you that guaranteed comma in your bank account, you didn’t object.

When you reached his private home in Santa Monica, it was quaint and modern enough not to bore you. You arrived around 11 am before the sun reached the highest point in the sky, setting up your gear and peeling away your baggy t-shirt and denim shorts to reveal the red cheeky one-piece you wore underneath. It’s better to play the part, right? At least, that’s what the agent mentioned.

Unsurprisingly, Dieter was about to step into the pool when you entered his private yard, isolated from the rest of the neighborhood and with a generous view over the hills. He tilted his head to the side as he looked at you, eyebrows lifting at the sight of a new person in his space, in a bathing suit, no less.

“You must be the lifeguard my agent hired.” It was a matter-of-fact statement, yet you didn’t fail to miss how his warm brown eyes landed on your chest before meeting your gaze again. “I don’t need a babysitter, you know.”

“Apparently, you do. Look, I’m doing this for the pay. You stay on your good behavior, and I’ll be out of your hair. Simple as that.” A straightforward agreement, you think, he’s a grown-ass man. Surely, he can listen to the bare minimum of instructions.

“Deal,” Dieter said, leaving you to your own devices. You watched as he materialized a joint from his pocket and planted it between his plush lips, sparking his lighter to inhale a drag. He exhaled through his nose, pungent smoke filling the distance between you two and making you scrunch your nostrils. You eyed him silently, holding your hand out and shaking your head when he gestured the joint in your direction for a pull.

That’s why he needed a lifeguard. Getting high off of god knows what in the pool must have been his favorite pastime before he did something stupid or endangered himself. Figures.

Propping yourself on one of the lounge chairs lined by the side of the pool, you got comfortable, tinted shades sitting on the bridge of your nose. You could lean back for some time and catch a nice tan for the first two hours, giving you something to do. You don’t think the man in question will bother you too much or do something as stupid as to drown on your watch, but you’ll do your best to ensure that doesn’t happen.

To your amazement, Dieter was quiet, humming to himself and enjoying his high as he swam about and floated in the pool. When he wasn’t looking, you’d take a couple of glances just to be sure he hadn’t sunk to the bottom. Those were also the moments when you’d get a good look at him, sneaking peeks of his face and body over the blue water.

In a way, he was handsome, with a rugged charm that brought a level of interest you didn’t initially notice. He had a head of curly brown hair and a patchy beard adorned his jaw. His soft abdomen had a trail of light hair lining from his belly button to his groin. Selfishly, you took in the way his light blue shorts hugged his hips, thick thighs shifting to keep his body upright.

Leaning back into the chair as if you hadn’t been picking apart his appearance for the past 3 minutes, you pretended like somehow this strange man wasn’t sneaking into the recesses of your mind and the depths of your gut.

It helped he was cute—just a little bit.

After lunch and munching on some catered sandwiches, you moved from lounging in the chair to sitting along the edge of the pool, dipping your feet in the water. All things considered, you thought Dieter’s house was nice, probably better than his apartment in New York, but you’d kill to have either.

Setting your sunglasses on the top of your head, you could practically feel this man watching you from the other end of the pool, taking in your movements with unfocused eyes. You ignored him, thinking it was just a coincidence or an outcome of his high. But as the faux obliviousness of his stares continued, his dramatic sighs and tricks in the water came after, squinting in his direction to gauge what he was up to.

He began to swim towards you until his hand gripped the tiled edge, running the other through his wet hair to pull it back. You caught his stare, dilated pupils hazed with a silent question.

“Can I help you, Dieter?” Speaking to him directly now, this was probably the first thing you’ve said to him since your heady warning earlier in the day.

“I’m bored.”

“Not my problem.” You shrugged again, the man groaning like a toddler on the precipice of throwing a tantrum.

“C’mon. There has to be something else we can do while you sit all pretty and shit.” Dieter said out loud, making you raise an eyebrow at the catch of certain words. It must be the weed. Ignore him.

“You can always pay and leave me alone to do anything else.” You replied, your attention drawn to one of his hands gently touching your ankle as your foot pushed against his wrist.

“You’re telling me you’re not bored too?”

“Oh yeah, bored out of my fucking mind. But you can’t keep distracting me while I work.”

“This isn’t work. It’s a babysitting job, a bad one at that.” His fingers ran over the top of your foot absentmindedly, and you had half a mind to kick his hand away. You relented, thinking it’d be worth your time if you played your cards right. 

“Have you seen yourself, Dieter? You need surveillance 25/8. I’ve been counting down the minutes to see when I will find you face down still as shit in the pool.”

You half expected him to curse you out or even be upset with what you said. Instead, he laughed, hearty and loud, bringing a wide grin across his face and giving you a perfect view of his smile. You couldn’t help but chuckle along with him out of ridiculousness.

“If you want to keep me occupied and alive, I have an idea of what we can do.” Dieter’s tone turned suggestive, something you didn’t miss. His strong arms wrapped around both of your legs and you welcomed the contact, wanting to know what he could mean, for research purposes of course.

“What do you have in mind?” You grew curious, almost taking back the words that tumbled from your mouth before his eyes gleamed with mischief.

“Well…we are alone. Nobody’s out here but us.” His thumb teasingly caressed the side of your thigh, doing nothing to quell the warmth bubbling in your core with every stroke against your skin. Suggesting to fuck a client? That wasn’t in the job description, nor was there an NDA.

“You’re joking, right?”

“Am I laughing?” Dieter was closer now, maybe too close, his chin resting on the top of your legs as he looked up at you. He reminded you of a puppy dog waiting for his treat, except you were dealing with a complete horndog with no sense of self outside of LSD and bad actor accents.

“Consider it a bonus for taking such good care of me.”

“What am I? A prostitute?” Your eyes rolled in defiance, brushing off what you think was his terrible flirting if that’s what you would call it.

“For the fucking record, I pay all of my sex workers generously. But no, this is just me showing my appreciation.” Dieter’s lips came down to kiss the newly tanned skin of your knee, prompting you to release the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“You barely know me.”

“Hasn’t stopped me before. I’m sure you can say the same for yourself.” He couldn’t wipe the smirk from his face, and you don’t think you’d want him to.

“It’ll be much more fun than just watching me for the rest of the day. Don’t even gotta see my dick, I just want to taste you for a while.” He placed another kiss higher on your thigh as his fingers pressed into your calves under the water. “What do you say?”

In silence, you mentally listed the many reasons why this was a bad idea. What would it look like if you fucked Dieter Bravo the first day you were supposed to look after him? A sex addict and drug fiend who somehow still had an acting career despite a change in reputation. Red Flag was written all over his forehead in bright, bold letters.

Yet, those warnings didn’t push you away farther than you needed to be. You were already here, so you might as well leave with something. Besides, it was only 2 in the afternoon, you had some time to spare.

Dieter watched in hunger as your legs parted in front of him, supporting yourself on your arms and you smiled as you did. He was so close he could practically smell you, the stretchy material of your bathing suit hiding the treat he sought after the moment you stepped into his yard. If he closed his eyes, he could imagine the taste of your pussy in the back of his mouth, coating his tongue with your slick to quench his thirst on this hot summer day.

He tried so hard to conceal the moan that slipped between his lips, suppressed by his teeth digging into his bottom lip.

“You better make this worth it, or you’ll find yourself a new lifeguard.” Dieter laughed, thick fingers wrapping around your thighs and hands on your hips. He gave your body a soft tug, bringing you to the pool’s edge and closer to where he could have his mouth on you.

“Promise baby, you’ll be coming back every day this whole summer.”

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[acheronist]

to the ghost of henry peglar, congrats on writing your poem down 177 years ago!!!

to the actual academic scholars who have studied the pages before me....

so I took the royal museum greenwich's scan of the poem page (which is available online hereeee) and screwed around with its light levels in photoshop until henry's script was darkened enough to see more clearly. then I digitally traced over the darkened letters as best as I could, while also trying to discern his handwriting, and type up how I was reading it & this process took me about a week to get done between like... living my regular day to day life lmao.......

so when it WAS done, the final isabel acheronist peglar papers ["the open C"] transcript seemed a bit different than how I remembered the readily available russell potter transcript going ? (the poem is on the last two pages of that pdf for those of you who don't spend a billion hours a week looking at it btw)

it felt like I was getting more/different information out of it, compared to the potter transcript, which was kind of stressing me out honestly. so THEN I compared mine with barry cornwall's original poem and found more words that matched up? particularly in the second and third stanzas?

so!!!!! almost two hundred years later here's what I've landed on:

April 21 1847 the C the C the open ) ( it grew so fresh the Ever free the Ever free the Ever free without it without it covered it will Run to Earth above Re gions Round I love the C I love the C when I whare & I wish to be with and and silence whare Never go if a sailor should a Come and Make the meek What matter what matter Come Ride Or Sleep there was shores white and of red morn at the noisy hours knew I was ever near I was Born the [...] in felt Unto the Maid the wale the young dolphin ...... yet thes back of gold the Call of gods When I was on Old England Shore I like the young C more and more oftentimes time flew to a sweltering place like a bird thats seeks it mother Case and ware she was bird oft to me for have I loved a young and Hopen C

so then after going thru All Of That, I wanted to have a version of the original poem with parts that Henry did remember clearly highlighted for comparison purposes:

I know it's a popular theory that Henry was writing a dirty parody of the original poem? which if true, is funny as hell. me when i have to write cheeky victorian porn before i die.

But (serious voice) something about that hadn't ever seemed exactly right to me... IN MY HEART it seems more realistic that around 1847 he (and also by extension, the whole surviving expedition crew) were starting to experience confusion / brain fog symptoms from being ummmm quite physically unwell. the lead poisoning/scurvy combo would have severe effects on the brain's ability to function properly, and I started to wonder if Henry was trying to test his memory somehow? So he picked a widely known and popular Victorian era poem about being a sailor to see how much he could recall??? and he then got a little whimsical with it, and wrote in his own words to fill in the portions he couldn't fully recall, because it's his own diary and likely didn't expect anyone else to ever read it, much less have it turn into ONE of TWO surviving sources about the expedition?????

like... idk... this is probably the work of someone in the exact moment as they were starting to realize how bad things were, and then was trying to cope by using poetry. and That hurts my feelings enough as it is, but going through it was also just a very weird and haunting experience....... like, I can recognize all these tiny details in this dead guy's script and handwriting now. and to read his own account of his life in his own words, what stood out to him and what he recalled, what he wanted people in the future to know about him? insane. it literally felt like i was getting haunted by him for no reason. on top of knowing that Someone (#teamarmitage) loved this guy enough to keep his memory protected and safe, even though They Were So Totally Fucked And Going To Die There, unknowing if they'd ever be found again........

SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + SIGHING + CRYING A BIT HONESTLY

anyways thanks for reading this all. I don't think that this is revolutionary franklin expedition news by any means, and idk if there's a better different transcript somewhere that i've not found that already covers all this? but it's consumed a lot of my life lately lol and i wanted to share. because its the anniversary of henry writing it, and it felt...... important....? 💌....????

[pollymorgan]

Teacher Negan - The Football Game - Part 1

Warnings: A very large age difference and of course, smut

Oh, and very important: It's all fiction of course! Please, my dears, use condoms and don't go with old men! :-P

That my mother has to move several hundred miles away with my aunt to open a beauty salon, especially before the last year of my high school, was initially a big shock for me, but now I also see the advantages it brings. First of all, I finally get out of my little town, and there's also the immediate proximity to my cousin. Cassady is 5 years older than me, to be exact 23, but we have always gotten along great. Another advantage is that I no longer have to see my ex-boyfriend every day, since we are no longer in the same class. Plus, I still have almost the entire summer vacation ahead of me to enjoy life to the fullest, like now at this football game. If I were to say I love football, that would be an understatement, because it feels like every American does. For me, it's an absolute dream to live in the city of my favorite team. That's why I'm wearing the appropriate hoodie over my dress and, of course, the matching cap at the game.

The atmosphere in the stadium is absolutely insane and totally captivating. Even if my cousin doesn't really see it that way and only came along because of me.

Now we just have to push through a horde of men to get to our seats. And then hopefully it will start soon. Even though the game will really become secondary. Because the atmosphere alone is reason enough to be here.

Getting to our seats, however, proves to be more difficult than expected. We each have two large beer cups in hand and somehow have to get through this crowd. But the line at the drinks stand was huge, and I didn't want to spend the start of the game waiting in line. So we planned ahead. I almost managed to get to my seat unscathed, when suddenly this guy turns around in a flash. Everything happens so quickly that I can't react anymore, and so I spill half of the beer on him and myself. The tall stranger initially looks at me very angrily and is about to scold me, but then his look suddenly changes as his dark eyes meet mine.

"What the hell.. oh, sorry.. I didn't mean to spill your drink, ...can I offer you a new one? Of course, only if you're already 21.." He starts to grin, and his perfectly white row of teeth shines through his silver-black beard.

I'm still a bit overwhelmed by the whole situation and look bewildered at the large wet spot on his black shirt under his dark jacket. Guys my age are never dressed so well. Only maybe for a funeral or a prom, and I've never been to either.

"I'm already 22.." I say somewhat defiantly, and according to my fake ID, that wouldn't even be a lie.

"Perfect.." he concludes.

He turns around to hand me a full beer from the drinks available behind him. I take it gratefully, and finally my cousin and I can sit down exhausted in our seats.

Immediately she whispers excitedly in my ear, "Did you see how that guy looked at you? He's at least twice as old as you and basically undressed you with his eyes .. pretty cringe..".

I look at her innocently, "Cringe? I actually find him quite cute!"

"Cute?" she asks in surprise, rolling her eyes.

The stranger sits down in the seat right next to me and toasts us.

"Thanks," I say again.

"No problem, pleasure to meet you, i’m Negan!"

"Sam.." I stammer somewhat clumsily.

Then everyone turns back to their groups. After a while, I'm engrossed in conversation with my cousin again, but the guy next to me has put on such an intense cologne that it lingers in my nose the whole time. It smells so ruggedly masculine that it almost drives me crazy. Whenever I have the chance, I shyly glance to the right, but he doesn't look at me anymore. I'm strangely disappointed, so I try to push that thought aside.

The game is running fantastically. My team is winning, which makes me so euphoric that I even infect my cousin with it.

After the game, as we're getting ready to leave, someone roughly grabs my arm. I startle briefly, then look back into the dark eyes that send a pleasant tingling sensation through my entire body.

"Do you and your friend maybe want to come with us to a bar to celebrate the victory a bit?" he asks with a deep tone, and I feel my stomach vibrating at his words.

Suddenly, my cousin's voice snaps me out of my trance. "No, sorry, we have to get up early..".

I look at her puzzled.

"Um, actually... apologize for us for a moment!".

The stranger seems to be thoroughly amused by this situation.

I turn to her and whisper in her ear, "That sounds fun... come on, let's go with them!"

"With these guys?!" she says a bit too loudly.

Startled, I turn around, but he is engrossed in a conversation again and apparently, thankfully, hasn't noticed. After a seemingly endless discussion, we agree that I will go to the bar with them without her. But only with the promise to be reachable on the phone at all times.

Reluctantly, Cassady bids me goodbye with a hug and whispers in my ear, "Take care of yourself... and don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Since my cousin has quite a bit of a checkered past, I don't even feel guilty promising her that.

When I agree to go with them, the stranger firmly takes my hand to guide me through the crowd out of the stadium. I'm initially a bit shocked by this strange situation, but fearing to lose him among the crowd, I interlock my fingers tightly with his and let him lead me out of the stadium.

The three of us, along with another man, take a seat on the backseat of a large black Audi. The men in the car are engaged in lively conversation about the game. Fortunately, I understand quite a bit about football and can engage in some discussion without sounding dumb, even though everyone else present is probably 30 years older than me.

After a short ride, we park in front of a small bar.

As we enter, the smell of smoke and alcohol greets me. The men take a seat at a round table, and I excuse myself for a moment to go to the bathroom.

There, I take off my sweater and am quite glad that I'm wearing a short black dress underneath. I take off my cap and let my hair down, then adjust it and try to fix my makeup a bit. I take a deep breath a few more times, looking at myself in the mirror. Then I go back, determined. But the table is empty. Startled, I look around, a thousand thoughts racing through my head.

But then I hear someone call out, "Here we are!" The voice comes from the billiard table. Relieved, I see Negan sitting on a sofa in front of the others. I walk purposefully towards them.

Two are already playing, and the clattering of the balls drowns out the conversations in the entire bar.

Since the couch is already occupied, I take a seat on the armrest next to Negan. He unabashedly looks me up and down and then offers me a beer.

"You look damn good..." he says directly, making my heart skip a beat and my cheeks blush.

After the men finish their game, I challenge him. He accepts with a smile, probably not expecting that I practically grew up at the billiard table. As he takes his first shots, he realizes it's not as easy as he thought, which pleases me.

Watching him concentrate more on the game makes me proud, and he looks even better doing it. As he leans closer to make his next move, he unexpectedly gives me a rather strong pat on the backside.

"Hey, unfair move!" I protest immediately, which only elicits a tired smile from him, but sends a strong tingle down in my lower abdomen.

But I manage to win against him, albeit very narrowly, which clearly annoys him. Afterwards, he has to endure some teasing from his buddies. Resignedly, he sits back on the sofa, and I proudly perch on the armrest again.

During the next round with his friends, we engage in animated discussions about their gameplay and continue drinking our beer. After a while, Negan starts touching my bare shin. At first, he just places his warm hand there, but then he starts stroking it slowly. The touches of his large rough hands are so gentle that they give me goosebumps. I enjoy this feeling and what it does to me to the fullest. I'm disappointed when he lets go of my leg, but only to offer me a vodka shot that the waitress had placed on a large tray in front of us. The drink is much needed, as my mouth feels incredibly dry.

We clink glasses, and I down the shot in one go. The sharp alcohol burns in my throat and then warms my stomach, shooting straight to my head. I can tell that Negan is watching my every move closely.

As soon as I place the empty glass back on the table, he puts his hand on my thigh.

"You look so damn sexy drinking it all in one go, do you like swallowing other things too?" he whispers unabashedly.

I almost slap him out of reflex, but as I look into his grinning face and his lustful eyes meet mine, my whole lower abdomen tightens, and I can't help but smirk. We gaze at each other for a while, and then I decisively say, "Why don't you find out.."

Without warning, he pulls me onto his lap, and before I know it, I'm straddling him, and he immediately starts kissing me. His lips are incredibly demanding. I place my hands on his cheeks to try to control the situation somewhat, while I completely forget everything around me and simply ignore the stupid comments from others.

His fingers trail down my back purposefully, immediately gripping my buttocks tightly. Then he presses me firmly against his pelvis. Excited, I breathe against his open mouth as I feel his penis getting harder and pressing strongly against me.

Sensing my hesitation, he whispers softly, "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing.. it's just pretty big.." I grin, feeling a bit embarrassed.

He smiles contentedly and presses me against him again, then gently kisses the sensitive skin on my neck and says in my ear, "Oh, don't worry, pretty princess, I'll order a taxi for us now, and then we'll go to my place where I'll pamper you so much that your little pussy will get nice and wet for me, and then my big, hard cock can slide into you slowly and effortlessly. How does that sound?"

His deep voice and direct manner drive me crazy. I nod decisively and kiss him again. I then take his right hand off my butt and guide it under my dress, directly between my legs.

"I'm already so wet for you, feel it!" I reply somewhat shyly.

His fingers deftly shift my panties aside, while his eyes scan my face precisely, enjoying every reaction from me. Slowly, he skillfully glides his middle finger through my cleft, causing me to involuntarily flinch.

"You're such a naughty sweet girl!" he remarks amusedly, as his finger leaves my most intimate place again, moistening my lips with my wetness. He then kisses me again, passionately sucking my taste from my lips. "You taste incredibly good.." he says contentedly.

[allthedoorsareopennow]

Incomplete collection of Marius lore

suggestions for additions are welcome, but it MUST HAVE A SOURCE

overview 

He is the ship’s medic[1]/ship’s doctor[3], plays fiddle and has a mechanised right arm[1].

The ace of hearts card in his hat indicates he is asexual [18].

'He likes love, and love songs, and people in love' [18].

His own romantic inclination is unknown [18].

He knows some German words, but is not fluent [19].

Marius is not white [20].

backstory 

He is neither a baron nor a doctor[3][5]; ‘Baron’ is a corruption of his original name, Byron von Raum[2][5].

Marius has a sister called Dorothea, and they were raised by a single nonbinary parent. Marius doesn’t remember their name or face, and knows them only as Zeze[6].

It is strongly implied that Marius was not mechanised by Dr Carmilla [7].

Marius is 5’5 and very skinny. This is apparently because he came from a world that is ‘somewhat medieval in its nutrition levels’ and Marius was not a healthy child. [14]

He piloted a mecha called KISMET. She was 5-6 storeys tall and slightly insectoid, like a dragonfly or butterfly. [17]

‘The control pod’s entirely in the head, which allows the internal control rig to right itself like a ball bearing, keeping the pilot upright whether she’s standing on the ground, hovering, flying horizontally, banking sharply or even rolling.’ [17]

The mecha is not meelee-oriented. [17]

time with the mechanisms 

Drumbot Brian said that ‘given that we're immortal and don't need a doctor, it's the job we're most comfortable giving Marius, and it keeps him busy’ and also that he ‘frequently tries to psychoanalyze inanimate objects’ [5]

His mechanism was ‘probably botched’ and he has a ‘tenuous grasp on reality’[2] 

According to Jonny, he grew a beard presumably around 08/02/2014 ‘almost instantaneously, and without warning’ and was apparently ‘very upset’ and ‘said he’d been holding it in for decades and just that momentary lapse of concentration as I kneecapped him had ruined all his hard work’[8]

He once dressed up as the Toy Soldier for a halloween concert [9]

Drumbot Brian once responded to someone asking how the mechanisms were by describing marius as ‘mad’[10]

The Aurora describes Marius as ‘the broken doctor’ [16]

songs/albums

He had a planned lecture on the psyche of the olympians, but this was cancelled[11]

He helped Ashes install at a minimum the camera in Ulysses’ vault in UDAD, though he does not remember this[4]

Apparently, ‘Marius spent his time on Fort Galfridian sitting at the porthole for days staring into the sun because he didn't realise it was supposed to be unbearable, and now the Ghouls think he's some sort of prophet’ [12]

In The Bifrost Incident, Marius does not know where he got the violin - in fact, he doesn’t even realise he’s holding it until Lyf points it out [15]

death

Marius was always skeptical of the crew’s immortality and was less surprised to meet his end. ‘One day, at something of a loose end, he will decide to check on the octokittens. Unfortunately, the purring horde has not been fed in many decades, and devours him, head to toe, in 11.7 seconds.’ [13]

Jonny is implied to have already witnessed Marius’ death before the final concert; he says ‘11.7 seconds. At least, by my watch.’ [13]

In Marius’ death, tunes from ‘Blood and Whiskey’ and ‘Favoured Son’ can be heard [13].

meta information

In the Ulysses Dies at Dawn indiegogo fundraiser campaign, one of the donation perks is listed as 'Marius's Journals'. [21]

[1] Mechanisms Marius von Raum Available at: https://themechanisms.com/the-crew/marius-von-raum/ Last accessed: 11/01/24

[2] Young (2020) Future Projects: The Death of Byron von Raum (spoiler free) Available at: https://kofiyoung.com/2020/07/25/future-projects-the-death-of-byron-von-raum-spoiler-free/ Last accessed: 11/01/24

[3] Revenge of Spaceport Mahon

[4] Mechanisms Eskhatos Available at: https://themechanisms.com/fiction/eskhatos/ Last accessed: 11/01/24

[5] Below (2013) Why do immortals need a ship doctor? Available at:  https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/58736308596/why-do-immortals-need-a-ship-doctor-i-need-an Last accessed: 11/01/24

[6] Young (2023) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/727612334921678848/holding-checklist-titled-qualities-to-kill Last accessed: 11/01/24

[7] Rasputina (2013) Where'd you folks pick up Marius and Raphiella? Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/58960694562/whered-you-folks-pick-up-marius-and-raphiella Last accessed: 11/01/24

[8] Sims (2014) Ingratitude Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/75995731661/ingratitude Last accessed: 11/01/24

[9] wickedacephotos (2013) The Mechanisms at The Cellar, 29 Oct 2013, for Halloween with Polar Patterns Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/wickedacephotos/65528149745/wickedacephotos-the-mechanisms-at-the-cellar Last accessed: 11/01/24

[10] Below (2013) Hooray for questions! Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/58734952128/i-apologize-that-i-didnt-ask-a-question-to-make Last accessed: 12/01/24

[11] The Mechanisms Ulysses Dies at Dawn Available at: https://themechanisms.bandcamp.com/album/ulysses-dies-at-dawn Last accessed: 12/01/24

[12] thedreadvampy (2020) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/thedreadvampy/624522490768736256/i-feel-like-i-should-clarify-because-it-does-at Last accessed: 12/01/24

[13] The Mechanisms (2020) Death to the Mechanisms Available at: https://themechanisms.bandcamp.com/album/death-to-the-mechanisms Last accessed: 12/01/24

[14] thedreadvampy (2020) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/thedreadvampy/630817295229468672/so-i-am-absolutely-going-to-go-draw-tim-with Last accessed: 12/01/24

[15] thedreadvampy (2020) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/thedreadvampy/631436135234699264/you-dont-need-to-awnser-this-because-i-am-lore Last accessed: 12/01/24

[16] themechanisms A Bedtime Story Available at: https://themechanisms.com/fiction/ghost-in-the-machine/ Last accessed: 06/03/24

[17] Young (2023) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/708247931183153152 Last accessed: 11/04/24

[18] Young (2024) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/754005393719640064 Last accessed: 22/06/24

[19] Young (2024) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/759338848830554112 Last accessed: 20/08/24

[20] thedreadvampy (2020) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/thedreadvampy/624109112212455424/ Last accessed: 17/11/24

[21] The Mechanisms (2013) The Mechanisms - 'Ulysses Dies At Dawn' Available at: https://www.indiegogo.com/projects/the-mechanisms-ulysses-dies-at-dawn#/ Last accessed: 17/11/24

To add:

not yet added Marius’ dttm dialogue

may add more detail to what is contained in expert testimony

could probably add detail on things seen doing in photos, e.g. Marius playing rock paper scissors with TS. (are photoshoots canon? I assume so)

[3] missing a link

wow did I really miss pilchard. I will Get To It at some point maybe

fungus arm https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/712149115253948416/

perhaps more backstory info from byron

https://x.com/neitherabaron/status/1231124594544783361?s=20

https://x.com/neitherabaron/status/1231604579529302018?s=20

https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/744416410692993024

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=fjKHR0astiU - video on how to do the marius dttm makeup

numbers are ordered mostly in when I added the source rather than order of appearance as I have moved things around a lot. as above this is very incomplete and I don’t have the willpower to update this now maybe I will later. I’m just uploading it now since someone wanted marius lore

[pockets-full-of-roses]

Staring At You in a Room Full of Art

brief summary: regulus arcturus black would rather stare at your beautifully painted face than loads of artwork in that museum

[regulus black x reader; little to no use of y/n; just him thinking your attractive and drooling over you; modern AU; if i post this after the sunseeker one, it’ll be hilarious]

divider credits !!

Regulus Arcturus Black loved going to museums. Especially art museums. As an artist, he would take weekends to study art and get better at his techniques. He’d change styles every time he found an artist he liked better, drawing to perfection.

Sometimes he’d need a break, going to the library to read up on his favorite genres. Regulus was balanced. Sometimes he and Pandora would go on “art dates” where they would pass around their sketchbooks every twenty minutes. Evan and Barty had joined once, but they kept drawing.. inappropriate things on the papers.

As a reward for helping Evan successfully put cat ears on Barty, the two of them (one reluctantly) gave Regulus a day pass of a new art museum that opened a couple months ago. He pretended that he wasn’t internally fangirling, and thanked them accordingly.

You? You absolutely loved art. Each painting had its own story to tell, strokes full of emotion and color. You had gotten a great paying job working for the museum as a tour guide. They had noticed how often you came to that since the grand opening, and couldn’t help but give you a job.

Of course, you were working a shift the day Regulus decided to use his day pass. Perfectly enough, he had stumbled across a sign on their website that read, “TOUR GUIDES AVAILABLE TO VISITORS,” and booked one of your sessions.

Needless to say, your breath was taken away from you in the instant he walked toward your group. You were conversing with some high school kids about your favorite exhibits and why, catching his stare from the doorway. You looked away, turning back to the kids in front of you. Your heart pounded faster when you realized he was coming toward you.

You checked your watch to keep yourself from staring. 11:21 AM it read. Nine more minutes. You were about to call out that there would be nine more minutes until the tour would start, but carefully (and beautifully) sculpted, slender hands brushed against your arm. A man, the same one from before, had just tapped you.

“Excuse me, sorry. Is this the tour for 11:30? Or am I in the wrong spot?”

“O…oh.. No, no! You’re in the right spot, don’t worry. I was just about to announce that actually.”

The man gave a small smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling. He had a French-sounding accent, simply amplifying how great he looked. You had to admit, this man was good looking.

Trying to spark some conversation, you nervously cleared your throat. “Is this your first time here? I haven’t seen you before.”

“Oh, yes. First time,” the man smiled politely, inclining his head ever so slightly toward you.

Taking the opportunity to earn a bigger paycheck, you quickly told him about other exhibits that would be mentioned in the tour and interactive gimmicks that he could find and use. The man simply nodded and smiled. You shared your name at the end of your vocal advertisement.

“That’s really interesting. I’ll be sure to enjoy it,” he nodded, deciding to share his name in response. “I’m Regulus Black, it’s a pleasure to meet such a kind tour guide. I’m quite the art lover.”

You laughed, sharing in his interest. “Me as well.”

The time simply went faster than ever, your watch signaling to start the tour. You wrapped things up with the extremely nice man — Regulus — and called everyone else over. “Everyone for the 11:30 tour, please follow me.”

As planned, the tour went off perfectly. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered as you felt Regulus’s eyes gazing at yours as you spoke your memorized script, a flutter hitting you in the stomach.

The art portion had to be your favorite part. Some of the visitors provided you with their insight on some of the paintings after your public inquiry. Regulus had been asking many questions, always looking at a painting whenever you glanced his way.

Afterwards, you dropped everyone near the beginning, wishing a happy day to all of the visitors. The man you had spoken to before lingered. Regulus.

“Another question for me Regulus?” you asked politely.

“Erm.. yes. I hope you aren’t too.. weirded out by the question. You seem to share quite a lot of interests with me and I was hoping if I could get your number? Friends or whatever..” he seemed embarrassed, scratching the back of his neck as he glanced away.

You smiled. “I would love that.”

After a quick exchange of phones and a click of a photo, you were acquainted. “I hope to talk to you soon,” he spoke again, bidding you goodbye.

As Regulus walked away, he grinned in triumph. Thank the gods for his love of museums.

credit for dividers (above) made my @saradika-graphics . all writing by pockets full of roses. please do not repost without permission. likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anniversary req 21: [DDVD] levi, satan, beel / babysitting

ao3 link

note: i tried to incorporate most of what the request form said - hope you're happy with this, anon! this one's just precious <3

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

“Behave,” Lucifer says sternly, and shuts the door.

Levi exchanges a look with Satan. For some reason, he gets the feeling that Lucifer was talking to them, and not the toddler clinging to the back of Satan’s leg.

He cranes his neck down. IK is already staring wistfully at the door. Satan would probably compare her to a lost kitten; Levi thinks the look is more akin to a sad Lotan.

“Beel’s in the kitchen,” He says to Satan in an undertone, and the two of them hastily adjourn to three-sevenths of a family meeting.

Couldn't Lucifer have picked any other day for whatever fancy reservation he's made for their date? It's clear he doesn't entirely trust the only three babysitters available. He knows this because Lucifer added all three of them to a hastily-made, very secret group chat a few hours ago - to warn them of what would happen if anything went wrong. 

The three of them sit silently around the kitchen table for about five minutes. Finally, Satan clears his throat, and looks at Levi.

“You’re the oldest here,” He says. “You should know what to do.”

Levi grimaces. “Well, I don’t.”

The three of them look to IK, who is sitting solemnly in the head chair. None of them know where Lucifer keeps her booster seat, so she can only just about see over the edge of the table. (IK usually protests about having to use it, so she seems happy with the situation.)

“It can’t be that hard,” Satan mutters, mostly to himself. “If Lucifer can handle it.”

Usually that means no one else can, Levi thinks, but wisely chooses not to say this out loud. But it can’t be that different to what we usually do… right? I mean, I guess we don’t really do the proper care stuff. That’s Zhao’s thing. We just hang out with her…

“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles.

Satan blinks, then tilts his head to the side and leans forward. “Sorry?”

“Pom-pom,” IK repeats, louder this time.

“I don’t… what’s ‘pom-pom’? Is it one of your toys?”

“Hmph,” IK says, then hops down from her chair and toddles out of the kitchen with such authority that none of them think to stop her.

It takes Beel’s phone going off to bring them back to reality. Lucifer has sent them, rather aptly, a parenting book. Satan decides to stay behind to read it while Beel and Levi are sent to wrangle the kid - and figure out what she’s actually after.

IK hasn’t made it far. She still can’t get up the stairs on her own, nor can she open any of the doors without full-body ramming into them, so she’s only managed to make it a little way down the corridor.

“Pom-pom,” She insists when they catch up with her.

“We don’t have pom-pom,” Levi says a little breathlessly, even though he really didn’t go that fast. “Can’t you just tell us what you want?”

IK cannot, apparently. She leads them on a merry chase in about five circles around the ground floor (she kicks every time they try to pick her up) before finally sitting down in a huff in the middle of the living room. Levi’s secretly a little grateful for the chance to rest his legs - this is the most he’s moved in the last month.

“The floor’s cold,” Beel says patiently, attempting to pick her up. IK manages to wiggle cleanly out of his hands and goes straight back to the ground. “Come on, let’s go sit somewhere comfy, okay?”

“Pom-pom,” IK mumbles, beginning to look a little tearful. The look on her face makes it clear: if Lucifer was here, he’d totally know what to do by now. 

It’s, quite frankly, unfair. He’s already good at everything else. Levi had really expected childcare to be the one thing to trip him up.

Situations like these really call for Asmo. Once again, Levi finds himself wondering why in hell he’s here.

“IK,” He tries - unable to muster one of Asmo’s many pet names and resorting instead to sounding as pathetic as possible, in hopes that she’ll take pity on him. “IK, c’mon. Wanna come see Henry? You like Henry.”

Beel tries to pick her up again. IK gives him a severe, uncannily Lucifer-like look, then stubbornly slips down until she's lying flat on her back.

“We need some blocks,” Satan announces, walking into the room with far too much confidence. “Do we have blocks?”

“Of course we don’t,” Levi says miserably, about two minutes away from lying on the floor himself. “Why would we?”

“Then I will go find some blocks,” Satan says decisively, and walks straight back out again.

IK stays on the ground, staring blankly up into the ceiling. She doesn’t look as if she’s throwing a tantrum so much as she looks like she’s lost all hope in the world. It kind of hurts his heart.

He glances up at Beel. His brother’s brow is deeply furrowed in thought. After a moment, he sits down, and carefully pushes his palm underneath IK’s head. If she won’t get up, at least he can give her a pillow.

Satan comes back with a crate that he says Lucifer’s been keeping in his study (which is supposed to be locked right now, but that’s on Lucifer for not using a strong enough charm), and produces a set of patterned blocks that he attempts to gently encourage IK to play with. All IK does is hold them limply.

“Maybe she needs a nap?” Beel suggests, but IK doesn’t seem to like that idea. In fact, after hearing the word, she appears to start deliberately keeping her eyes open for as long as possible out of spite.

Satan looks something up on his phone - steadfastly refusing to call Lucifer - then abruptly hurries off again. He comes back with some cardboard, a ball of wool, and a pair of scissors. IK lifts her head to watch him with interest as he sets about snipping and tying. Finally:

“There you are,” Satan announces triumphantly, and presents IK with a little green ball of fluff. “A pom-pom.”

IK sits up and holds it blankly. Then she shakes her head.

The dismay on Satan’s face would be funny if Levi didn’t feel terrible for him. “No? Is it the wrong colour?”

“Pom-pom,” IK says sadly.

“Fine…” He reaches out to take it back, only for IK to snatch the pom-pom-that-isn't-the-right-pom-pom back. “Hey. I thought you didn’t want it.”

“Mine,” She mumbles stubbornly, and dodges his next grab as well. “Mine!”

“But it’s not your pom-pom, is it?” Satan asks, now beginning to grin. “Come on, give it back.”

“No!” IK scrambles to her knees, then shuffles to hide behind Beel’s broad back. “Mine!”

“I made it! Give it back!”

“NO!”

Clutching the pom-pom, IK jumps to her feet - and, wobbling unsteadily from side to side, full-on sprints out of the living room.

Satan reacts first, almost as if he were expecting it. Hauling himself to his feet, he practically gallops after her, leaving Beel and Levi in stunned silence, still sitting helplessly on the floor.

“I didn’t know she could go that fast,” Levi says after a moment. “Do you think Mammon’s been teaching her?”

“We should probably go after them…” Beel glances down at the crate. “Should we bring the blocks?”

Satan has cornered IK in the library when they catch up with them. Even as they sidle awkwardly through the door, she looks sharply around the room, spots the still-ajar door to Lucifer’s office, and promptly zooms inside. Satan, of course, doesn’t hesitate to do the same.

Levi follows just in time to see him double-evade her around the desk, then shoot forward and sweep her cleanly off the ground - “Got you!”

“No!” IK insists, even though she’s giggling so loudly that the word is barely discernible.

“No? Certainly looks like you’re— ow!”

Something has flown out of Lucifer’s desk and propelled itself directly into Satan’s face - so hard that he’s shoved backwards into a cabinet and knocks a bottle off its stand. IK does not help things grabbing a fistful of his hair to keep herself steady.

“What the—” On closer inspection, the thing that came out of the desk appears to be a little stuffed pigeon. As Satan spins around, attempting to regain his bearings, it folds its wings and jabs its little felt beak at his eyes.

“What do we do?!” Levi yelps, hands braced to do something, though he hasn’t the faintest idea what.

IK isn’t giggling so much as she is wailing now - Satan, though still reeling, has enough sense to pass her off to Levi before attempting to wave the pigeon off. His arms windmill around so wildly that it’s only a matter of time before he—

“Oof!” Levi manages to shield the back of IK’s head with his hand, but his own nose isn’t so lucky. “Watch where your hands are going!”

“I’m getting attacked!” Satan snarls, and looks one peck away from zapping the pigeon into dust. “Do something!”

“What am I supposed to do?!”

Beel, at this point finally stepping into the situation, clearly has more wits about him than either of them. He surveys the situation, steps forward, and plucks the pigeon cleanly from the air.

It goes straight to ferociously attacking its fingers. Without the momentum of flight on its side, though, its blows are virtually harmless. At this, Levi hesitantly lowers his hand from IK’s head.

“This definitely has Lucifer written all over it,” Satan grunts, a hand pressed over his eye. “Smug bas… ahem. Am I bleeding?”

Levi leans over and peers at his face for a moment. “Nah, you’re good.”

He lowers his hand, but he doesn’t look any less mutinous. “Who gave him the idea of putting toy security in his desk?”

“I don’t think it’s security,” Beel says, holding the pigeon’s head still with one hand and reading its label with the other. “I think it’s a toy for IK. See?”

The company name does check out. That doesn’t explain why it comes to life and attacks people, though.

“Well, it’s not a spell I’ve seen anywhere before, so don’t look at me,” Satan grumbles.

Beel inspects the plush pigeon for another moment, then (still carefully holding it still) holds it out to IK. She looks frightened - but, under his reassuring gaze, slowly reaches out, and bumps a little fist to its beak.

The pigeon immediately stills. Levi would’ve thought he’d just hallucinated the whole thing if it weren’t for the red mark on Satan’s forehead.

“Oh,” says Satan himself, realisation dawning. “He enchanted it. That’s…”

He doesn’t finish the sentence, but clearly he isn’t angry anymore. Beel gently presses the pigeon into IK’s arms, and it comes briefly to life again to tuck its head lovingly against her cheek.

“That isn’t an easy enchantment,” Satan murmurs, wiping his brow. “He’s probably not done testing it.”

“Looks like it works fine to me,” Levi says, watching IK attempt to feed the pigeon her green pom-pom. “Do you like it, IK?”

“Mmm,” IK says, flapping the pigeon’s wings. The pom-pom falls out of her arms and lands softly on the floor.

She notices its absence after a moment and makes a sound of dismay. Satan huffs, then stoops to pick it up for her.

“At least you like it,” He mutters, passing it back to her. “Are you sure it’s not your pom-pom?”

IK shakes her head seriously. She gazes at him for a moment, then mumbles something and makes a gesture in his general direction. Levi obligingly leans forward.

“What now?” Satan sighs, but ducks down to her level anyway. “Are you going to hit me, too?”

Far from it. IK pats his cheek until he stops frowning, then stretches up to the red mark on his brow and gives it a kiss.

“...oh.”

If Levi didn’t know better, he’d say Satan was dangerously close to tears. His brother clears his throat and offers a slightly shaky smile. “Thanks.”

IK hums, then pulls both pigeon and pom-pom tight to her chest, and tucks her head under Levi’s chin. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a sharp squeak, like a poorly-oiled door.

“I think it’s time for a nap now,” Beel says, watching her with a little smile. “Let’s go.”

“Okay,” He agrees, voice quivering, and follows him out of the office. Satan stays behind briefly to shut the drawer the pigeon flew out of, but doesn’t bother re-locking the door.

The crate of toys is still sitting in the middle of the library. Levi gingerly lowers himself into an armchair and lets IK figure out how she wants to sleep; Beel sits down on the floor directly opposite him and contents himself with watching her.

Satan stands silently for a while, then settles beside the toy crate and starts methodically stacking the blocks himself. Levi watches him, too afraid of disturbing IK to move.

“She’ll probably be hungry when she wakes up,” says Beel, setting his chin on his knees. “I think there are some strawberries left in the kitchen.”

“We need something more substantial than fruit.” Satan sets the final block on his tower, then promptly knocks the whole thing over and starts again. “Sandwiches, maybe…”

IK isn't asleep for long before she abruptly startles awake again. Levi opens his mouth to say something sappy that'd usually come out of Asmo - then quickly realises that something's up. 

"What?" Satan asks, sitting up. 

"I don't..."

IK is practically ramrod-straight in his arms. Her eyes are open, but she stares directly ahead of her, far into the distance.

Beel lifts his head and rises to his knees. "Give her here."

Levi can't do anything but acquiesce. IK doesn't respond at first, but almost as soon as she leaves Levi's arms, she takes in a sharp breath, and begins to whimper. 

"Wait—" Instinctively, he tries to snatch her back, but Beel holds firm. "Why... what's wrong?!"

"Nightmare," says Beel shortly. "Belphie used to do the same thing. Can you go get some water?"

It might be the fastest Levi has ever gone to do something. Beel doesn't get IK to drink it - instead, he dips a finger in, and draws a streak across her forehead. At this, IK pauses, eyes wide. 

Satan darts to pick up the pigeon from where it's fallen to the floor. It begins to move as soon as he presses it to IK's face - fluttering its wings and gently grazing its cheek against hers. Levi imagines he hears it coo. 

"Hi," Beel murmurs, doing the same trick with the water again This time, IK makes a sound of protest. "Don't worry, it's gone now."

IK mumbles something and twists away, attempting to wipe her forehead. Beel smiles and does it for her. "...there. That's how you know she's awake again."

"Bad dream, huh?" Satan clicks his tongue sympathetically, then leans down and kisses her forehead - returning the favour from earlier. "Are you still tired?"

She blinks slowly, then makes a quiet noise of affirmation. Beel nods seriously. "You can sleep again, then. We'll keep you safe, okay? Your dad will be home soon."

"Okay," IK whispers, and closes her eyes again.

———

Some time later, Belphie gets home. By that weird twin-sense he shares with Beel, he comes straight to the library. Since IK went back to sleep, Levi's taken a turn on the building blocks, for want of something to do. 

“Do you know where IK’s pom-pom is?” Satan asks without looking up from his book.

“Huh?” Belphie drops his bag with a loud yawn. “What d’you mean, where?”

“She wouldn’t stop asking about it.” Levi precariously sets one tower on top of another. “We didn’t know what it was.”

“Oh, she wants pom-pom? That’s easy,” Belphie says with infuriating nonchalance, then wanders across the room, where IK is beginning to stir in Beel’s lap. “Hey, twinkle-star.”

The three of them can only watch in dawning realisation as Belphie crouches down, shifts seamlessly into demon form, then offers the end of his tail like it’s some kind of toy. IK blinks at him, then scrambles up and makes a grab for the fluffy bit at the end.

“Oh.” says Beel a little weakly. “You were talking about Belphie’s tail the whole time?”

“Pom-pom,” IK says happily.

[twoandahalfstudios]

A Grim Reaper is never complete without his favorite axolotl… and he's available NOW on Makeship as a plushie!

You can grab the Azrael Plushie for the next 21 days exclusively on Makeship!

Once he's gone, he's gone for good, so grab him while you can!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for using my status as an agender person to get a surgery I want although I do not want it for gender-related issues ?

TW : talk of uterus, menstrual cycles and menstrual blood

I'll start by saying this is not the US so please don't make your judgement based on that. I'll describe how things are in my country.

So I (X24) want my uterus removed. The main reason is that I want to be sterilised to stop having so much anxiety about becoming pregnant, which would be a nightmare for me, and I never ever want this to happen again.

But I can't get any other form of sterilisation as then I would keep my uterus, so I would keep my period, and without hormonal treatment it's just not liveable. To give you an idea, my natural cycles are 21 days instead of 28, I get my period for 7 days instead of 5 and it can be hemorrhagic for up to 4 days of these 7. (I used to get post-op medication because of the hemorrhagia before I was under contraception.) And of course I get through excruciating pain every time, beside having iron deficiency among other things. I'm currently trying another hormonal contraception, it's still not going well. There is always something wrong. My first pill just stopped working, the next ones made me gain 20kg, I'm currently trying hormonal IUD and although I don't bleed as much, I bleed for so long and there is so much pain that no available painkillers can block. I'm so tired. I can't imagine going through that for another 15 to 25 years.

In my country, it is written in law that you are allowed to be sterilised using various methods, all of which keep the uterus. Nothing is said for hysterectomy as a sterilisation method. And although many refuse to sterilise you at all, if you find the right surgeon you can be no matter your age. The procedure is also fully reimbursed. Nothing is said in law about hysterectomy.

This means that the vast majority of surgeons won't remove your uterus. Except if you have a pathology related to it or if you're trans (coming back to that later).

So what I described above does look like a uterus with a pathology, right? It certainly looks like endometriosis at least. I went to a surgeon known for doing the other kinds of sterilisation and tried to convince him to just remove my uterus. He refused, not without an asserted pathology. To his credit, he looked for it. He had me take an MRI. Well, they found nothing.

Which means that, although I have a pretty dysfunctional uterus that I never want to use and just keeps causing me problems, he won't remove it. Because they can't find the cause. Even though I feel completely alienated from my body because of that damn organ that keeps trying to make me bear children and will have me bleed out and in pain when I won't allow it.

Then there is the other solution. I said above you could get surgery if you are trans. It's actually a bit more complicated that that. In order to get HRT and gender affirming surgery, you first need to get diagnosed with body dysphoria by a psychiatrist. And then you get a special status in our health system that allows you to get free access to all kinds of things in the medical field (like surgery and HRT) and beyond (like laser depilation).

As I said, I'm agender. They give this status to nonbinary people so my specific flavour of gender (or lack thereof) is not the issue. But I don't have body dysphoria, only social dysphoria. People misgendering me to my face will make me feel horrible but I don't see my body as gendered. My breasts and specifically my uterus are not something that I see as gendered, so they're not something that causes me distress in terms of gender-related issues. Which means as psychiatrist is never going to diagnose me with gender dysphoria as is, and I won't have access to hysterectomy through trans care.

Except if I fake it.

Now, I have no idea if it could even work. If I could even fool someone. But I've been considering trying because I really, really want to get rid of that damn uterus. And technically, I wouldn't be faking my gender identity. Just expanding on my dysphoria. Still, it feels wrong. I wouldn't transition in any other way except removing the uterus. This path doesn't feel like it's mine to take. I feel it would be disrespectful towards actual, dysphoric trans people.

So, what do you say Tumblr ? WIBTA if I tried it anyway ?

What are these acronyms?

[mysticsublimeperson]

I want to express my frustration because... im trying to write some time travel Merthur fanfic as one does...

and I keep hitting my head against the same wall. Because just in case you didn't know England SUCKED before imperialism and colonialism.

Not that that made it better but, the English isles didn't have a variety of fruits or vegetables, the did have meat and fish and salt I think, but no sugar or way of producing it but honey if I remember correctly.

And admittedly climate change is a pain in the ass, but in medieval times the winters probably consisted in huge blizzards and freezing for 4 months.

They didn't even had tea!!!

All the good stuff its because of colonialism which is horrible for the world but whatever.

Im trying so hard to ignore this facts... to be free and write about silly angsty boys but I needed someone to know how difficult it is.

Because Merlin having lived in a 21 century would have spent since the 16th drinking bloody tea, and now he is back in time and doesn't have tea, doesn't even have sugar, it's a pain in the ass to get milk, and he can't even get his favorites foods because the fruits and vegetables aren't even evolved yet.

BECAUSE YES! All of the greens have suffered a tremendous amount of change because of selective farming!! so even if there were apples back there, they probably wasn't the same apple, probably weren't even half as sweet as they are now a days!

Same with animals, and plants. Many of the species have gone extinct but they existed back then. And im dying for a chance to bring this into the fic, to prove just how difficult the transition it's, but a the same time, it doesn't matter right? not really.

bUT I NEEDED TO VENT A LITTLE SO thank you for listening to my rant.

Also im not even a history girly, im an art babe, so all of this I know by logic and assumptions from my art history clases, and my hyper fixation, so obviously take everything with a grain of salt.

((It's just that I was cooking and I was trying to think which ingredients were available at that time to make the most simple dish but no, there was almost none, no spices, no tomato, I think the had cabbage, and like broccoli because its the same plant, but probably wasn't evolved into all of the different versions we know, they had beans, and lentils I think, the potatoes come from South America, so no potatoes, the had bread but what kind of bread??? sO YEAH, this is my head.. all the time))

[reasonsforhope]

"FYI to the non-parents out there, it takes at least 15 pairs of shoes for a child to grow from a toddler to a teenager—that’s a lot of trips to the Footlocker.

Fortunately, an Indian entrepreneur from Pune has designed a line of shoes that slowly uncurl as the child ages, intuitively solving the problem and reducing unnecessary manufacturing waste.

Called Aretto, the shoes were designed by Satyajit Mittal and his childhood friend Krutika Lal. Their innovative knitted uppers are designed with all the qualities a parent would want their kids’ shoes to have—durability, flexibility, and washability.

“Children do not wear the right shoes for the first ten years of their lives,” Mittal, who designed the Aretto shoes with consultations with concerned childhood podiatrists, told The Better India.

“Between zero and three years of age, children’s feet size changes every three months, and you need roughly 15 sizes between zero and nine, before attaining final foot size at 13 years. We figured out the problem that while feet grow, their shoes do not.”

What the podiatrists explained to him was that children have a broader footprint than adults, due to their not having worn shoes for most of their lives like adults. Tens of thousands of nerve endings provide the feedback needed for children to understand how to use the miraculous musculature in their feet to walk and run.

Most infantile and childhood shoes don’t consider this, and based on the frequency at which parents need to buy new shoe sizes, proper foot function is probably never even taken into account, and the occasional stuffing of toddler feet into shoes too small or too large, can disrupt this critical muscle development.

“We wanted to give children the right fit for all cycles. We chose one shoe to cover three sizes that allow 18 mm growth. We took inspiration from how a flower blooms from the bud stage to the fully-flowered stage. The transition happens organically every day. We applied this concept to the shoe,” said Mittal.

“We started working on a shoe that flexes as per the feet. Simply put, as and when the feet grow either from the front or back or sideways, and when a child wears this shoe, it expands accordingly and takes the shape and contour of their feet. That’s why children feel comfortable wearing such shoes,” he adds.

The shoes are priced between Rs 1,800 and Rs 2,600, ($22 – $31) and are available internationally as well, provided that international buyers have either an Indian bank, or Google Pay, Amazon Pay, or WhatsApp Pay.

The shoes are fairly new on the marketplace but have already generated 21 lakh, or Rs 2.1 million ($25,000) in revenue."

-via Good News Network, 4/10/23

Note: This is very mundane in some ways, but it's also something that's going to legit make a difference for some kids/families. One annoyingly regular problem/cost off the backs to parents.

Also, can say from painful experience that wearing shoes that don't fit or aren't supportive can Fuck You Up longterm--some people just get the pain from it sooner than others. So this design sounds fantastic

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 21 - Secrets Revealed (alt prompt)

title: movies

fandom: empires smp

part of esh au :)

cw: discussion of past suicide attempts

~

Maybe Scott shouldn't have chosen Heathers.

But somehow, in his long life of being queer, Jimmy hadn't ever seen it.

"You're literally bisexual and you haven't seen it?" Scott had asked, astonished. At Jimmy's nod, he added, "It's the most bi movie ever. And I could sing the musical all day, too, but musicals based on movies are always better than the movies based on musicals—"

"What's so important about it?" Jimmy had interjected, one brow raised, and Scott couldn't help but feel a flurry of pride at how much Jimmy had opened up over the past months.

"You'll just have to watch it and see," Scott told him, so here they are, three days later, Scott on his end of the sofa and Jimmy on the other, a bowl of popcorn (that Jimmy rarely takes from) between them.

It's not a date, Scott reminds himself repeatedly. It's just a movie night between him and his ward. No, a movie night between him and his friend. Jimmy holds no romantic feelings for him. And he doesn't have any for Jimmy.

Lies.

But they're watching, volume lower than what Scott would normally watch a movie with (loud noises make Jimmy jump, and subtitles are readily available), and Jimmy seems to be enjoying it. He lets out a little laugh at all the right places, and rolls his eyes at the outdated references, and loosens up a bit as the movie goes on.

Until the one scene.

The part that Scott didn't even think about, more worried about the other dark tones of the movie.

Where Veronica fakes her own suicide.

Before Scott even registers that he got up, Jimmy is out of the room, in the kitchen, turning on the lights and starting the sink running.

Scott pauses the movie, something sinking in his stomach. "Jimmy?" he calls tentatively. "Are you all right?"

No response.

What was that about Jimmy being his ward?

It's getting easier and easier to forget that Jimmy isn't just his roommate, but someone he is charged by the state to take care of.

Scott uncurls his legs from the couch and gets up to head into the kitchen, letting his feet fall harder than normal to let Jimmy know that he's coming.

Jimmy's standing over the sink, scrubbing hard at a bowl, head down. After a quick, splashing rinse, he sets it in the dish drainer and reaches for a plate.

"Not that I mind that you're doing dishes," Scott says drily, "but why? What happened?"

Jimmy doesn't say anything, his scrubbing motions becoming jerkier.

"Was it the movie?" Scott tries. "I honestly didn't think—"

"Can you leave?" Jimmy asks suddenly, before cringing. "No, sorry, I didn't mean that, sorry."

The panicked apologies send Scott into caretaker mode, whether he likes it or not. "Are you having a flashback? It's okay, you're not there—"

"No, I'm—Scott, I'm fine," Jimmy insists, hunching further over the sink. "Please—please don't worry. You can—you can go finish the movie, okay? I'll just wash up here and go to bed early."

Scott almost agrees. He doesn't want to make Jimmy upset. He wants everything to be right for him.

And then he remembers that he isn't just Jimmy's friend. He's his caretaker, and he has to make sure that Jimmy is safe and mentally well.

"Okay," he says carefully. "But I'm scheduling you a therapy appointment for tomorrow."

"What? No, I'm already seeing Nora on Thursday—"

"The trigger was bad enough that you're having to clean to distract yourself," Scott points out. "I know what it looks like when you're trying to fight a flashback, Jimmy. If you really want me to leave, I will, as long as you go to therapy tomorrow. "

Jimmy doesn't answer for a long time, washing another bowl with even more aggressive scrubbing. He rinses it, sets it aside, and turns off the sink, squeezing out the dishrag.

"I tried to kill myself," he says bluntly, turning around and leaning on the counter. "While I was . . . there. I was gonna hang myself on my own leash, okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"I—" Scott feels himself blanch, as hard as he tries to keep a straight face.

"And I tried to kill myself a bunch of times after you got me out, just so you know. If it wasn't for people messing around, I would've succeeded. Does that make you happy?"

"Jimmy—"

"Because it sure didn't make the crazy doctors happy!" Jimmy's crying, now, just a little bit, eyes wet and red, even as he laughs. "I have to be on drugs to be normal! Just because I was a stupid, suicidal pet!"

Jimmy isn't looking at him anymore. His eyes are fixed on a spot slightly to the left of Scott, as if looking him in the eyes will make all the precarious emotions spill over in a tidal wave.

"It was—what do you call it, premeditated?" Jimmy says. "I decided—when I woke up—I was gonna twist my leash around the doorknob of my cell and the hook, and I was gonna hang myself. But they took away the leash—and they strapped me to the hospital bed so I couldn't get any scalpels—and they drugged me up real bad—"

"Jimmy—"

"What kind of person needs drugs to not kill themself—?"

"Me," Scott says loudly, and Jimmy cuts off mid-sentence, eyes focusing on his face.

"What?"

Scott leans against the wall, crosses his arms. "Me," he says again. "I'm on antidepressants, too. When I was eighteen, I . . . made an attempt on my own life. Aeor saved me. I've been on medication and going to therapy ever since."

"I'm sorry," Jimmy mumbles after a pause, the frenetic energy seeming to drain out of him with the two words.

"It's okay," Scott says, and he feels like he's about to cry, like those few sentences have rubbed his soul raw, but he's going to stay strong for Jimmy. "It was a while ago, I don't mind talking about it. But I have depression, due to some . . . stuff, and I didn't see a future that I wanted to be a part of. So, I'm sorry that you went through that, Jimmy. But I don't want you to think that needing medication means you're somehow less of a person."

"Sorry," Jimmy says again. "I—I didn't know."

Scott shrugs. "You didn't. It's not really something that comes up naturally in conversation, you know. But medication isn't a bad thing, okay? If it helps you to survive . . . well, that's good."

Jimmy chews on his lip, turns his gaze to the tiled kitchen floor. "I'm just . . . I'm tired of being messed up in the head."

There's not really a cure for that, though.

As infuriating as it is, mental illness isn't like a cut to be stitched up and bandaged. It isn't a pulled muscle that can be healed with an ice pack and a little rest. Mental illness is a cancerous tumor writhing inside the brain, and the excising is painful and exhausting and almost certainly doesn't get all of it out.

"I know it's hard," says Scott. "I don't know how hard, but I know it is. And you've still made an incredible amount of progress."

Jimmy shrugs. "Maybe. I . . . I wish I didn't have to."

Scott doesn't know what to say.

So he just offers a sympathetic smile and waits.

It's cruel. It's cruel that Jimmy was ever pushed to such lengths, that he ever felt so hopeless.

Scott knows it's cruel.

He knows that it hurts to look back, to remember oneself in such a dark place, swallowed up in the pain.

At least he has a few years' difference. Jimmy's still at the place Scott was when he was nineteen.

What would Aeor do when nineteen-year-old Scott would lash out, angry and tired?

The answer comes quicker than Scott expects.

Aeor would send him to bed.

"Well, I'm ready to go to sleep," Scott says, not quite having to fake a yawn. “We can take care of these dishes tomorrow, yeah? Let’s take the rest of the evening off.”

“But—”

“Nah, leave ‘em.”

“The movie?”

Scott shrugs. “I’ve seen it before,” he says nonchalantly. “And we can watch something else next time. Maybe Lord of the Rings.”

Jimmy makes a face.

“Don’t tell me you don’t like them.”

“I—they’re just so long,” Jimmy protests. “I don’t have time for a three hour movie.”

“That’s not the important part, what matters is that they’re a classic.”

“They’re boring.” “Clearly, you haven’t been watching them right.”

“I’ll lock myself in my room again. Don’t think I won’t.”

“You would never.”

“I would! And I will!”