#makes it impossible to find people they can identify with

[skullvgirl]

SPECIAL COMPANY

It had been 1 year since you first killed another human being. You were only 19 at the time and since then you’ve had a lot to think about. 

The warehouse which had been your home for only a short while became infested with zombies soon after you had got there. Thankfully the truck you’d borrowed still had enough gas in it to take you to your permanent home, a small little cottage farm tucked away in the grasslands just off of the coast of where you used to live and somehow had enough vegetables and food left behind to last you until your first winter. 

You even came across a few abandoned farm animals, two cows, three chickens and a single horse whose name fortunately you were able to identify as Cookiedough. It made sense, the fur of the animal closely resembled the sweet mixture you wished still existed in a time like this.

Unfortunately for you however, in the year that passed things like desserts became such a rarity it was almost impossible to find all the correct ingredients that would make it. Most people didn't just have preserved chocolate chips lying around. It also was  a waste of resources considering the situation. You weren’t a fully fledged country bumpkin but you had a few animals at home–experience aiding you in how to use your supplies wisely especially in the different seasons, thankfully summer was just around the corner, that meant harvesting all you had grown in the spring and making sure nothing dire happened while you did.

You breathed in the dewy morning air, flowing into a familiar morning routine. You reached for the journal under your bed, flipping to the very last page in the book, tapping the led on the bottom for a moment then finally began to write. 

Dear Mom and Dad

This is Day 116 since I began writing to you and I’m sad to say this will be our goodbye. It’s been a long journey since having you and I’m so glad you were there with me. Since you guys died things have been so different, and while I hope to continue writing  forever I know that may not be possible. I still plan on going to Paris, since you know, Im immune or whatever, but I don't know how long that will take or how much time will pass before I can keep writing to you guys, in the meantime though I’m working ( or looking I guess ) on a cure for the infection so hopefully people like you can continue living . See you soon. 

Love, Your Daughter.

You breathed shakily and placed the pencil down, sliding the notebook back under the bed where it belonged. Wiping away tears you hopped downstairs to continue your day. 

“Come on Cookiedough, this way.” You led the horse, ignoring its impatient huffs as you placed a large hay barrel in front of it. You continued on like this, glad to see no man eating creatures had snuck into the garden shed last night. It was a common occurrence to find zombies lurking around the area trying to find some unsuspecting human to eat. 

The guns the owner left behind at this house easily took care of that though. 

You glanced at the watch on your wrist then back at the sun, if you headed out soon you’d be able to explore a bit further. Eager to expand the map of the area you lived in to the edges of the old paper, you crossed a large red X onto the puppy spotted calendar in your room, today marked the almost-anniversary for Outbreak Day, not that you planned on celebrating. 

It was only a bitter reminder of all that had transpired on the chilling evening. 

You shook your head and made for your traveling gear, there was a pharmacy a few miles down you’d long been meaning to check out. Hopefully a raid of the store would take your mind off things and reward you with some useful supplies. You glanced at the doors of your home and contemplated on whether or not you should lock it, surprisingly in the 12 months that had passed you didn’t see many people.  

Occasionally there was a passerby that glanced at the fence in home but you suspected they rather not take their chances with the ‘BEWARE OF ZOMBIES' sign you’d changed. It wasn’t like you didn’t want visitors per say, because speaking honestly, it was a bit lonely just you and your animals, but it was a peaceful life you’d take any day in comparison to the rampaging chaos that was happening in the denser populations of the world. The Cities had almost completely been taken over by the third day, which is where they suspect the disease originated in the first place so you were more than happy to be lonely in your home then in the midst of all the chaos. 

You locked the door anyways. 

Pulling a light cotton hoodie over your shoulders you trekked towards the fence peeking at the rising sun and loosening your jacket a bit. It was about 20 minutes out by foot to the pharmacy and though you planned on bringing Cookiedough along, you thought better of it. The horse was left behind for a reason, old and rickety with a small tolerance for any physical exertion ( much like yourself now that you think about it ) and although you didn’t want to admit it, she was nearing her last days. You shook your head, and picked your backpack up, glancing at the bandages around your neck in the mirror as you passed by.

Immunity was a funny thing, it should have been a blessing but nowadays it felt more like a curse. A black shadow followed your saddened figure as you trailed on the edge of the road. It was more likely for you to die before you’d come in contact with another person that would attack you but your fear got the better of you and you kept the bandages around you anyways. 

You continued walking forwards, unaware of the squishy substance that suddenly planted itself on your foot, you looked down to see a rotten apple ground into the floor. You grimaced and wiped your foot, it reminded you of the monsters that plagued the surface of the earth—just as the name suggested the beings, ‘dead’ or ‘alive' closely resembled the once appetizing fruit when it was put in a decaying state. Not much could be said for a real name of the disease however, radio was helpful but limited and most people just resorted to calling them zombies. Which worked fine for you, no matter what they were called you’d shoot them down without a second thought. 

You pulled out the miniature slip of paper holding it up as you continued navigating the road until eventually you reached the store. It was one of the nicer looking places that had thankfully been left mostly untouched by zombies and other humans that came by, you pried open the automatic doors and began searching, filling your bag with any preserved foods and or medical supplies you came across. It was almost mid day by the time you were finished, and you rushed to hurry back before it got too hot. Getting caught in a heatstroke with all this stuff in your bag really wouldn't do you any good. 

You sighed as you saw your house come into view, and the closer you got the more your heart began to pound. Footprints leading up to your door, a broken fence where the warning sign was placed and finally the busted door and missing hinges as to your house. It made your hands shake as you reached for the small pistol you'd taken in your bag. You didn’t go in through the front door, instead opting to slink through the back window you always left open, it led you into the laundry room where you could finally hear voices. 

“Hey, is it just me or does it look like someone's been living here?” one voice said, and you creeped forward on your toes, setting the bag down and looking through the small crack in the door. There were only two people in the room, both of them too distracted to notice your moving figure in the dark. 

“Nah, look the stove hasn’t been used in years, this place was probably owned by some old person who was too weak and died in the next closet over.”  he yawned and you swallowed shakily, trying to calm your breathing. There was a good chance they were armed too, more than ready for someone to attack, you couldn’t count on one of them to freeze while you tried to detain the other. 

“But what if it isn’t? What if they come back and—”

“Lord have Merrcyyyy, fine if you're so scared you can go sit back in the car with Rin, I’ll just loot the goddamned thing myself.” The voice said tiredly, shuffling past the door and into the kitchen searching through your stuff.

“No thanks, I’ll be upstairs.” Footsteps faded into the background, that was your chance! You thanked God there had been enough exercising for you in the past year, otherwise you weren’t sure you would be able to pull this off. You sat there crouched watching as the mysterious body moved around the house, stuffing their bags with belongings, your belongings completely unaware of who was watching. Just a few more steps and you were sure you’d be able to tackle him, just a few more steps and—

Suddenly there was a voice, “Barou, dude, you have to come see this!” 

Barou, thankfully, wasn’t in a rush to leave, he rolled his eyes and simply continued searching through your things. You were glad you kept the guns in the shed. “In a minute.”

The voice grumbled and you crept as close as possible to the door, waiting for the perfect moment. “Now! It’s important–”

You jumped, swinging  the door open and slamming your full body weight into the intruder, thankfully catching him by surprise enough to fiercely grip his hair and immediately cock the head of your gun to his skull, not waiting for his male counterpart to realize what was happening.

“Listen here Barou and listen closely, I haven’t got the slightest clue what it is you're doing in my house but frankly I don’t care. In a few seconds I’m going to get up off of you, that means you drop your stuff immediately and hold your hands high where I can see them, understand?” You pressed the gun a bit further into his inky strands standing up just as you had said and thankfully he complied. You held a sigh of relief, you didn’t even want to think of what would happen if he didn’t do as you said.  

Just then the voice from earlier came rushing down,  to say he was shell shocked was an understatement. You didn’t let him speak and tilted your head towards Shouei again, “Hey there, you want him alive, I suggest you follow suit. No sudden movements, no funny business. No nothing.”

You didn’t need to repeat yourself, ignoring the pale looks the two men shared, more glad at the fact he also listened. You walked in a single file line through your broken door, senses keen on your surroundings. That's when you spotted it, a large jeep parked outside littered with more people inside than you thought originally.

They broke my fence, you thought, bitter and scared as to why anyone would completely ignore the BEWARE OF ZOMBIES sign. Your thoughts were interrupted as the other man, probably scared for his and his friends life, began to speak.

“Hey miss, we’re sorry for breaking in, we didn't know anyone was living here—”

“Great well now you do, that your ride?” You said, directing your head at the car but not taking your eyes off Barou.

“Yes, but like I said, this was a mistake, we were looking for someone ya’ see, we didn’t mean no harm.”

“Maybe you should have thought of that before you broke down my fucking door.” you spat, briefly directing your attention to his face, it wasn’t as terrified as you’d like it to be. 

The man in question gulped but continued walking in the direction you were leading them, away from your house and closer to the car parked on your property. “Those your buddies?” you asked, about 10 feet away from the military truck where the participants inside seemed to finally realize what was taking them so long. About 3 more people’s heads began to peek out of the vehicle, tense and unsurprisingly a bit alarmed, but they said nothing. Watching, waiting for what would occur. You were sure they must have had weapons of their own but they couldn’t do much against the gun still held up to Barou’s head. 

“Yeah, yeah they are.” You looked at the black haired man, who had been eerily silent this whole time. You glanced between him and his partner then finally decided on what was the best course of action. “Listen, both of you, I’m an excellent shot you hear me? An excellent shot, I want you both back in that truck, and back where you came from while I wait right here, walk slowly and tell your friends there won’t be any trouble so long as you keep your distance. Now leave.” 

The men followed your command without another word, and you backed away slowly as Barou reached the car first, the other man however, seemed to linger behind. With his arms still up, he turned around to face you bravely. Your gun still in range to shoot him down if needed, you nodded your head for him to speak, curious as to what exactly he wanted to say in a situation like this. “We need your help.” 

You paused, then blinked. “What?”

The man sighed and peered back at the men still waiting in the truck, you could faintly hear the sound of someone whisper-shouting to get back here while he still had the chance. “Me–us–” he nodded to the car again. “We need your help.”

You blinked again, then finally spoke. “Help, help with what exactly?”  Your gun never left your line of vision. 

“We're looking for a cure, and I know you are too.” Now that caught your attention, if it wasn’t for the barreled weapon still in front of Isagi’s face he would have smirked smugly and grinned at the look you wore. 

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t yield your weapon, he was bluffing. “Oh really? And what makes you say that?” 

The man looked at your face then slowly reached into his pocket, careful as to not alarm you into killing him. Then, slowly slowly, he pulled out your notebook. The one kept under your bed, that was for no one to see but you. You tense even more, an uneasy feeling pooling in your gut. “How did you get that?” You gritted out, looking from it to him, itching to have it in your hands but knowing you couldn’t do much as he stood between you and the people still lingering close behind. 

“I found it upstairs, in your room I assume. Don't worry I didn’t read all of it, just the last page where….well, you said it yourself. Oh and Paris? That’s pretty ambitious of you, I’ll admit, you don’t seem the type to go for the city of–” 

“Give it back, now.” You growled, and once again Isagi was reminded of the pickle he was in. He tossed the book lightly to where your feet lay and you snatched it up before anything else could happen to it.  It was already bad enough that he and his goons were here and now he read your notebook, your private, very special notebook where you wrote to your dead parents and wished everyday you had died along with them. Great.   

“Like I said, I’m sorry, for breaking into your house, and stealing your stuff, but really that’s not why we came here anyways.” he said, taking a step closer as your gun began to lower. 

“What do you mean? Then why are you here?” you eyed him tautly. 

“Like I said, we’ve been looking for a cure to this mess someone created. Heard from a friend that  someone down this way might be the key to finding it. A 20-ish year old girl about yay high, with bandages all around her neck…(h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes, living out in the middle of nowhere. A girl that might happen to be immune?” He was even closer now, not close enough to put you in danger, but close enough that you could hear his voice soften and his eyes glaze into a sweet hopefulness. 

You looked hard into the eyes of the man, still wondering if he was being for real or not. His gaze was steeled, and even though you wanted to call bullshit and shoot him right then and there, a part of you knew he was telling the truth.

Your gun was fully lowered now. “Who-who told you all this?” your voice cracked. 

“Come with me, and I’ll tell you.” 

_____

You glanced wondrously at the ocean blue sky, breathing in the sunny July air as tree’s whipped past you. It had been three days since you began traveling with the boys, and it was…eventful to say the least. Their personalities were like oil and water for some of them, others were just plain weird and while there were some that were  friendly it was hard to get used to being with so many people at a given time. The year you have spent mostly alone seemed to take a toll on your personality, you never remembered being this antisocial. Or maybe that was your natural distrust for people that seemed to grow every passing day you thought about Sage, Amara or even those brutish pigs that had tried to kill you. Rin so far was your favorite of the 6, he didn’t say much, didn’t ask questions and for the most part kept to himself. He hardly even questioned you when Isagi first introduced you to the rest of his crew. He was currently also the person you were sitting by as Bachira, a yellow and black haired man sitting across from you tried to coax you into telling him more about where you came from.

“What did it feel like being bitten? Were you scared? Oh I bet you were, it must have been horrible having the feeling of all those creatures crawling on you.” He grinned at your scowl, teasingly reaching for your neck that was still covered by your bandages. “Can I see your scar?”

You made a face and he laughed boyishly, his creamy skin reddening into a light rose color. You turned away from him and hoisted your gun closer to your chest, this is why Rin was your favorite. Chigiri rolled his eyes and moved to whack Bachira in the face, you nodded at him appreciatively and glanced over the truck again. There were 7 of you in total, including yourself. Chigiri was a frontliner and probably the most opinionated man you’d met in your entire life. The two of you had developed a sort of dynamic, one that was akin to a sister sister relationship. He was also one of least talkative of the group, not including save for Rin who had hardly said a word the moment you got here. 

Bachira who was seated next to him was also a part of the Infantry unit, he apparently was one of the best front line soldiers back at their base but you had been yet to see it. He was the epitome of childish, and practically a walking warzone. His golden-brown eyes gleamed at you and you grimaced at the memory of him attempting to eat an entire can of unopened beans after Nagi dared him to. The thought brought you to a pair of gray-ish cold eyes, Nagi who in all his tall and lanky stature was the probably the least bothered by your presence was the most unfitting of the group you’d think. Him and Barou bickered all the time, and for living in a zombie apocalypse he was unbelievably lazy at times. He was probably your least favorite of the group, and you're not even quite sure what exactly he did, as a help. His eyes pierced yours a for a moment it seemed as if he could see right through you, the blank stare on his face nerved you to no end and you looked away before any words could come out of his mouth. 

Your eyes led you back to Rin who was on your left and Barou who was on your right. You had already contemplated Rin in your mind, and your opinions on him were mostly the same. He was quiet and you liked that. Barou was tall and brooding like everything you’d expect in a man. He was the tank of the group, in the past three days you spent with him you quickly realized he was not one to be messed with, which made it all the more surreal you had him under the barrel of your gun just a few days ago. Your opinion on Barou however always seemed to change, at first you thought he was a dick. He was somehow too pretty to be dressed in military gear with a shotgun at the ready. His hair was too perfect, his face too clean. It was strange how even at a time like this he always showed a way to make his teeth as clean as Chigiri's hair. One time you commented on it and while you weren’t exactly expecting him to be sunshine and rainbows you didn’t expect him to insult you, to your face. It was a while before your perception of him changed again, when he sped across the ground and shot an infected clean in the face as it tried to sneak behind you. He made light of his save, and you both hadn’t spoken after that but you know you didn’t need to. There was a secret mutual respect when you’d stood up to him that night, and since then things have been calm. 

That left Isagi in the driver's seat, who you supposed was the leader of all of you, and more surprisingly, a sniper. A good one at that. It was like he didn’t have to see his target in the first place, it was like he already knew. He was also the sweetest which made it all the more surprising when at the command of his voice had all 6 of them standing to attention. The 7 of you had been traveling along the road for 4 days now. It came as a shock when you had accepted the man's offer to join them on their journey, but it was more than welcome. 

You were the only immune person they knew after all. 

You didn’t leave immediately, determined on staying until Cookiedough, the caramel and sandy brown horse passed, which sadly didn’t take long. You made the men camp outside in their truck until about a week after Isagi had recruited you she finally said her goodbyes. 

You hadn't cried like that since the death of your mother and father. 

You shook your head free of the thoughts and made to pack your bags, you didn’t bring much. Some food and water just in case, a change of clothes and your notebook which held your most precious memories. Isagi had told you the 6 of them lived somewhere near here, ( and by near he meant a week by car to get to there, 3 of which had already passed more slowly then the next ) and would be taking you back to run tests hopefully tests that would succeed in finding a cure to the disease. As compensation, he promised full meals, a warm bed, hot showers and a one way ticket to France. You questioned whether or not they were actually capable of fulfilling your last request but Bachira just winked and pointed at Rin as if to say, he ‘knows a guy’.

The journey there was far from over though, this you knew, “So, [Name]...didn’t take you for a grenade sort of girl…”

You arched your eyebrow at Bachira, unamused, “A what?”

Bachira looked around the room and a ceremonious groan rippled throughout the car. “A grenade sort of girl, you seem way more like a be-mine sort of girl to me.”

You turned away disgusted, and realized why the group had groaned so predictably, he must have done this sort of thing often.  

Thankfully It wasn’t long before the 7 of you reached your destination, a tall gray building rose in front of you, there of course were a few pit stops you and the rest of the men had to make along the way to the base and this was one of them. 

Usually 2-4 people were sent out to scout the area and grab the people left in the car if needed, this time however Isagi said only 1 person was allowed to go in, and that person was him. His eyes flickered from Bachira’s to Rin’s, a knowing look crossing both their faces, the rest of the group also seemed to get the message as they all grumbled and sat back down in their seats, busying themselves with cards and charades. 

You sat back down as well, uncomfortably fidgeting in the cushion as everyone covered with one another. You felt left out, it was obvious there was some sort of unspoken code going around the group and you definitely weren't in on it. Luckily for you Bachira seemed to notice this and snaked his way over from the pitiful game of charades to fill you in. 

“Wondering what’s this all about are you?” he grinned, casually slinking an arm around your shoulders and you fought to shake him off, keen on the information he could give you. Reluctantly you shook your head yes. “I’ll tell you only if you give me a kiss.” He sneered, making duck lips at your face, you pushed his mouth away, making the mistake of keeping it there a bit too long and recoiled violently as he stuck his tongue out from his mouth to glaze over your hand. 

“Ugh! Stop it that's disgusting!” You shouted blissfully unaware of how your words really affected him, too disgusted to see his spread into a masochistic grin. 

“You wound me darling.” he said smoothly, recovering by holding his burning chest and wiping a fake tear from his eye. You rolled your eyes and moved closer to Rin who was entertaining him by shuffling a deck of cards. 

He side eyed you and stopped shuffling, watching you stare at the cards in his hands. “What.” his sharp gaze piercing your stomach. 

You looked away. “I didn't say anything…” But that was enough confirmation from him, he probably already hated you, now he thought you had a staring problem. A wash of cool air passed over the vehicle, though it did nothing to ease the ridgid atmosphere. Great, you’ve only been here a full three days and somehow managed to piss off one of the members. 

Thankfully the awkwardness in the air didn't last long as Isagi, your saving grace, came back from his short expedition carrying a mysterious black package with him. Bachira immediately stood up and took the contents, sliding the top of just a smidge then nodding at Isagi in confirmation. The black  haired man smiled and took the box back, sliding it under the seat then finally turning to face the rest of you. You didn't exactly get the best look at what was  in the box but you did get a peek as Bachira turned and saw containers of green valves, 3 to be exact. Hushed whispers were exchanged between the two, and finally Isagi’s eyes made eye contact with yours. 

You gave him an incredulous look, “Oh, right you must be confused, Rin why don't you explain it to her? We're a bit behind schedule now.”

You're not sure  if it’s because Isagi wanted to torture both you and Rin or if he simply wasn't in the mood for talking but he left for the drivers seat as soon as he got the chance, leaving you and Rin to stare awkwardly at each other before he cleared his throat to explain. 

“Trading points, Cap’ has to have someone double check the trade as precaution.” You nodded waiting for him to continue but to no avail, you supposed that was the most you would be getting out of him. Thankfully Chigiri, noticing your distress, finished for him. 

“The little green jars you saw are immunity developments, stuff like that is really valuable nowadays and even though most of them don’t actually work, Ego insists we trade for them. It’s also why only Cap’ was allowed inside, the U-Fights are really stingy about secrecy and whatnot.” Chigiri explained a bit bitterley, you were guessing the so-called developments hadn’t been all that helpful to finding an actual cure which is why you were found in the first place. 

You cocked your head cutely, jerking forward a bit as the truck began moving. “Who’s Ego?”

“Boss Man.” A voice stated and you turned towards Barou. “Run’s all the business stuff back at base, he’ll be happy to see you.”

“Oh I bet he will.” You groaned, trying not to think about all the poking and prodding they would more likely have to do before you could even get all that you were promised. 

“Don’t be scared, we won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Bachira spoke cheerily, nudging your shoulder. “Despite what it might look like, we're good people I promise.” 

Sure, tell that to the man I murdered a year ago, You deadpanned. It’s what would have come out of your mouth had you not known any better but instead you gave him a tight lipped smile and tried to ignore the loud thumping in your heart. 

Good people, yeah, whatever that means.

series masterlist / prev / next

an's ; its all intro stuffs blah blah blah fun times and boys soon

status ;; not proofread

wc ;; 5k

taglist 1/50 @egoistlino

[bandzboy]

not me seeing someone saying that if you are an adult with no friends that’s a red flag 😭😭😭 like WHAT

[andhumanslovedstories]

for people who also have a mild impulse shopping problem, I've found it useful to identify the itch I want to scratch: is it spending money or is it getting things? If it's spending money, I trick my brain by paying off something I owe. Like a few years back when I was feeling dangerously shoppy, I would drop a big chunk of change as a student loan payment. When I was buying an entire new mouth of teeth, I'd transfer money from my checking to my secret ultra hard to access tooth account.

If paying myself or paying a debt doesn't work, I find a charity or gofundme that's worth supporting. (You gotta be careful with that last one, it's really easy to be spend way more than you should, budget-wise, because it makes spending money feel good morally, which can be an incentive to keep going.) I also like to keep cash on hand so if I see someone who needs money, I can give it to them. It's a financial decision made impulsively for an opportunity I won't get again (giving $20 to this exact person at this moment of need). All this soothes the spending beast inside of me, and I don't deal with the Money Shame that comes with $100 of amazon orders.

If I want to acquire things, I download a lot of research articles I know I probably won't read, or I get an enormous stack of books from the library that would be impossible to finish before I have to return them, or I'll download a bunch of albums I tell myself I'll get to someday. Sometimes it's enough to just make a list of things of things I want to do or own. A list of one hundred movies I've curated from best of lists that in this moment I feel motivated to watch. Add tv shows to my watch list on netflix. Add fics to my "to read" list on ao3. Anything that feels like I'm adding to a hoard.

If I still want to shop, well, I'm probably gonna spend more money than I mean to, but I at least make sure I'm deliberate about my spending. If I'm gonna blow my cash on something, it should at least be worth it. That means either very cool or very useful. And honestly, the things you tell yourself are useful while in the shopping haze are never that useful, so you might as well go for very cool.

This is all to say I fell into a trance last night and this morning woke to receipts and tracking info from etsy dot com. And I am like "yikes." But I did get something that is so so so stupid that I can't wait to show it to you all when it arrives.

[letters-to-lgbt-kids]

My dear lgbt+ kids, 

When it comes to healthcare, you’ll occasionally encounter things presented as an opinion or as something up for debate - when there’s actually clear scientific facts on those topics. 

You can probably think of some general examples off the top of your head, like: 

Vaccines (They save lives. In fact, they are one of the most effective tools for reducing mortality rates worldwide) 

Pasteurized milk (Raw milk is not healthier than pasteurized milk, it’s actually unsafe. Pasteurization kills harmful bacteria which can cause severe illness) 

Fluoride (Water fluoridation is a safe and effective public health measure) 

Climate change (It exists and directly impacts respiratory and cardiovascular health)

“Detox” (The liver and kidneys detox your body naturally; detox teas, juice cleanses etc. are unnecessary) 

Cancer (Cancer isn’t just one disease, it’s an umbrella term for many different diseases and that’s why it’s very, very difficult, if not impossible, to just find the one simple fix to end cancer forever) 

Sugar substitutes (They have been extensively studied and are safe for consumption within recommended limits) 

There’s a lot of misinformation out there and it often thrives because it plays on fears (such as the natural fear of illness, dangerous substances and life-threatening side effects). Nobody wants to willingly put themselves or their loved ones into danger - but this absolutely natural desire for protection can be exploited. 

Some common tactics for that are: 

relying on personal anecdotes (emotional stories often feel more reliable or trustworthy than cold, hard data, even though they aren’t) 

appealing to those who distrust authority (the suggestion that governments/scientists/corporations/“they” are conspiring against you feels trustworthy if it seemingly “confirms” fears you already had) 

misusing scientific terminology (Complex-sounding terms can make something appear credible and well-researched, even if these terms are used completely incorrectly) 

giving quick, easy answers or fixes to complex problems (health is a complicated, multifaceted topic and there’s oftentimes no easy-cut answer to why a certain person gets sick or if a now-healthy person will still be as healthy in 10 years. This unpredictability can feel scary, and oversimplified answers can offer comfort) 

While health myths impact anyone, they disproportionately affect marginalized groups - for example chronically ill or disabled people but also our community.  

That’s because health myths (or outright health lies) can perpetuate stigma and create barriers to accessing evidence-based care. 

Myths specifically targeting queer health often follow the same patterns we talked about above. Let's take a closer look at some common topics and break down the facts behind them: 

Pedophilia (There is no evidence linking sexual orientation or gender identity to pedophilia or predatory behavior. This myth is rooted in bigotry and perpetuates harmful stereotypes) 

HIV/AIDS (it’s not “the gay disease” or even a “punishment for being gay”. It’s a virus that can affect people of all genders and sexual orientations) 

Regret rates (Regret rates for gender-affirming care are very low, even lower than for getting a new hip or a tattoo.) 

Regret rates, 2.0 (“Regret” does not automatically translate to “they were wrong about being trans”. A trans person could regret medical decisions for a multitude of reasons (even external factors like a lack of social support or experience of harassment) and still continue to identify as trans) 

Mental illness (The higher rate of mental health issues in queer people is caused by external factors like discrimination and social exclusion, not by the identity itself. Being queer is not a mental illness.) 

Conversion therapy (It doesn’t work. It also causes severe psychological harm including an increased risk of depression, anxiety, and suicide) 

Treating these myths as not “only” homophobia and transphobia but also as health misinformation may feel nitpicky, but I think it’s important. If we don’t, it’s easy to dismiss them as merely a matter of “not accidentally saying something offensive” - but there’s more at stake than hurt feelings. Health misinformation can prevent people from getting the medical care they need and put their lives at risk. And that applies to “Trans people often regret their surgeries” as much as it does to “Covid vaccines are dangerous”. 

So, look out for those typical patterns and warning signs - not only in the general “health and wellness” area but also in discussions about queer issues. 

With all my love, 

Your Tumblr Dad 

[topazadine]

Writing Post Masterlist

All my posts about writing - plus some I absolutely loved by other writers.

Masterlists by Other People (all good)

"Writing Tips Masterpost" by @deception-united - Deception-United has an incredibly wealth of resources available, far more comprehensive and detailed than mine. Go check it out!

"WQA Post Master Lists" by @writingquestionsanswered - Another fantastic and wonderfully comprehensive resource that covers damn near everything you need to know about writing. Genuinely one of the best free resources on writing that you could find on the internet.

General Advice for a Happy Writing Life

"The Myth of the Martyr Artist" - An incredibly important post, perhaps my most important one ever, that discusses why mental illness is a burden, not a benefit. I have no idea why this even needs to be said, but it does, apparently.

"Building Self-Esteem as a Writer" - Why you gotta be nice to yourself. You gotta.

"Identifying bad writing advice" - Warning signs that the post you are reading kinda sucks and you should click off.

"Advice to Beginner Writers: The Good, the Bad, and the Unpleasant" - How long it takes to become a good writer, what to focus on when learning, and why fanfic is such a useful tool.

"Mindset Shifts: Fanfiction -> Original Fiction" - What fanfic writers should know about deciding to take on original characters and stories.

"Defeating Protracted Writer's Block" - What to do when you find it impossible to write for days, weeks, or months at a time.

"Five Common Anxieties of Newbie Writers, Demystified" - Explorations of five mindsets that can set younger writers back as they learn their craft, including overcompetitiveness, overdescribing, and fearing they're "too old."

"Good Motivations for Continuing to Write" - Why it is crucial to have a passion for writing beyond fame and fortune.

"Extremely controversial writing opinions that will make you mad (but I'm going to say them anyway)" - Things you really don't want to hear, but need to be said. A bit of tough love, including the insignificance of ideas, the cold hard truth about how non-writers react to your writing, and the essentiality of having a well-rounded life.

"Why Mindfulness Is a Key Practice for Writers" - On the need to slow down and let our brain rest - plus some options that are categorically not sitting there in dead silence (boring).

"Writing When Happy" - Wherein I hijack someone's question to discuss the Myth of the Martyr Artist, why we might self-limit because of it, and how to do the impossible: write when we're happy.

"The Neurodivergent Writer’s Guide to Fun and Productivity" by @bookishdiplodocus - Excellent advice on how enjoying the process and reminding yourself that writing is supposed to be fun can help you stay motivated and productive, even when your brain is not cooperating.

"The Glorification of Self-Deprecation in Art/Writing Spaces" by @nicolkoutoulakiauthor - I've discussed before how crucial it is to have a healthy self-esteem when writing, but Nicol does it even better here. Nicol also includes some excellent reframing tactics so you can stay motivated.

Generalish Writing Advice (multifactorial)

"Signs That You Will Probably Finish Your Writing Project" - An analysis of the mindset that leads to results, and encouragement on how to develop them.

"'How Do I Start Writing?'" (Or; A Psychoanalysis of Newbie Writer Fears) - Inspired by the dozens of Reddit posts that ask this exact same thing, often with useless responses. So why do people ask this? I offer my theory.

"I Can Think of Ideas But Can't Write Them!" - A consideration of the many reasons you might find it difficult to get started on your precious idea-baby.

"How to elevate your writing style with 6 simple hacks" - Information about how to develop a prettier prose style, catch errors, develop good dialogue, and focus on brevity.

"How to improve your writing style : a 5-steps guide" by @writer-logbook - Especially great information on why reading widely is so helpful for your craft!

"Some Writing Advice" by @whispers-whump - Especially great discussion of why you shouldn't write what you mean.

"Practical Writing Advice Part 2" by @so-many-ocs - Does what it says on the tin. Simple, easy-to-follow advice that can break you out of writer's block.

"25 Prose Tips for Writers" by @thewriteadviceforwriters - I absolutely love the emphasis on sound and harmony here. As someone whose entire book series revolves around the magic of poetry, of course I think this is incredibly important advice!

"Pacing and Show Don't Tell" by @mylordshesacactus - Two for one deal! First, learn more about why pacing is important; then, look at some examples of the classic advice "show, don't tell." The post does a great job on breaking down what show don't tell actually means and what is not a violation of this guideline so that newer writers aren't confused.

Writing tools

"How to Build a Sustainable Writing Habit Through SCIENCE (Fuck Off, NaNoWriMo)" - Why NaNoWriMo doesn't actually motivate young writers and how to do better through a spreadsheet (yes, really, a spreadsheet). It also explains the importance of intrinsic motivation!

"'I've Outlined Too Much and Now I Can't Write!' (Or: the Double Outline Method for Overanxious Plotters)" - Some of us tend to go absolutely ham on our outlines, to the point where they're practically their own books. But then we also tend to not actually do the writing attached to said outline. Does this mean outlining is useless? Of course not. My method lets you have your outline and eat it too. (.... Wait.)

"'How Do I Make Myself Start Writing?' (Tips to Get the Damn Thing Done) - In this post, I provide a step-by-step guide to start writing, including a few tools to help improve motivation and concentration.

"How to Write Faster (And, Hopefully, Better Too)" - Eliminating distractions and forcing your brain to write is key to getting more done. Here, I explain how you might be limiting yourself by too much thinking and not enough doing.

Worldbuilding

"Stop Making Everything So Damn Complicated!" - Why fantasy (and scifi) does not need to be dizzyingly intricate to be enjoyable.

"How to Kick Ass at Worldbuilding" - I offer some suggestions on how to create a grounded and interesting world that will not bore your readers, based on real life examples.

"Grounded vs. Airy Fantasy" by @aethersea - Excellent breakdown of different levels of groundedness in fantasy and why it's important to understand your own approach.

"Fantasy Guide to Building a Culture" by @inky-duchess - Thorough and methodical analysis of what can create a compelling fantasy culture, including those things that many fail to think about when writing.

"Writing tip - Research" by @pygmi-cygni - Fantastic assessment of the importance of research, including for fantasy stories. As Pygmi-Cygni said, a lot of people claim that they don't need to do any research for fantasy novels, which isn't true! Any parallels to IRL need to be realistic, or you will lose credibility.

Plotting

"How to Use Chomolungma for Writing Adventure Stories; Or, the Plot Mountain Method" - If you're sick of saving felines who should really figure their own shit out, it's time to head to Plot Mountain. In this post, I offer you an alternative to the formulaic "Save the Cat" and "Hero's Journey" which also incorporates tension, characterization, and forward momentum.

"Avoiding Melodrama In Your Writing" - The most annoying all things: melodrama. My least favorite thing. Do not do it. I will show you how.

"How to Find a Plot When All You Have is Characters and Setting" by @rheas-chaos-motivation - This is a common problem for many writers, when you have cool characters or an intriguing setting. This short post can help you kickstart your ideas for how to create an intriguing plot that has built-in tension.

Description

"Remembering Perspective When Writing Descriptions" - Key factors to think about when describing other characters or settings from your POV.

"Description, Momentum, and Tension; Or, How Not to Bore a Reader" - Why, when, and where to put description so that people don't skip over it. Hopefully.

"Writing Notes: Seasons" - Each season has both benefits and downsides. In this post, we look at the negatives and positive aspects of each so you can decide how a particular season may strengthen your themes - plus some descriptions to help inspire you.

"Writing Advice: Spicy Mundanity" - Wherein I explain how to stop having boring descriptions by packing in characterization.

"How to Write Smut?" by @unfriendlywriter - Wonderful examples of how to write heartstopping smut.

"How to pull off descriptions" by @fictionstudent - Fictionstudent has a ton of great posts, both about film analysis and about the art of writing. I especially liked this one because it discusses how important perspective is for descriptions and the importance of filling in the details as a character would rather than just throwing it all at the reader at one time.

"How to avoid White Room Syndrome" by @writerthreads - Fantastic and focused advice on how to ensure you're offering readers just enough setting to help them envision the world.

Characterization

"Writing Relatable Characters; Or, Using Human Failures to Your Advantage" - Explaining how you can use character flaws and human needs to create a relatable character. Also explains the basic development of a plot, which is about equilibrium.

"How NOT to Write a Character" - Wherein I give you some examples of annoying characters we want to punt off a cliff so you can watch yourself.

"Writing Strong Female Characters" - Why you should give your female characters a secret goal, as well as how to avoid common 'strong female' stereotypes.

"Writing Compelling Trauma in Fiction: Dos and Don'ts" - How to avoid melodrama and create intriguing emotional wounds for characters.

"Quality Assurance Checks for Character Development" - Thought exercises that can help you differentiate characters, prune down unnecessary characters, develop true chemistry between LI and MC, and avoid having too many POVs.

"Developing Character Agency (Or; Cutting the Plot Strings)" - A discussion of character agency and how to ensure your characters are not bound by the narrative.

"Writing Notes: Thought Distortions" by @literaryvein-reblogs - Some psychological concepts you can use in your writing to add depth to characters.

"Questions about your character’s perspective on love and relationships" by @luna-azzurra - Excellent questions that can help you delve into your character's attachment style, what baggage they may bring to a current relationship, and how to create conflict through mentality.

"How to Write a Confession of Love," also by luna-azzurra - Perfect discussion of how to create tension, the utility of setting, not making it perfect, and including the other character's response.

Revisions

"Common Writing Issues that Reduce Readability" - Examples of fixes for four common issues: double describing, long sentences, overexplaining, and head hopping.

"How to Avoid Purple Prose" - A critical part of the revision process is making sure your writing is clear and balanced. In this post, I show a blatant example of purple prose and provide suggestions on how to make a more elegant passage.

"Differential Diagnosis When Your Writing Is Getting Worse" by @ariaste - Fantastic explanation by a professional writer about why you might feel like your writing is getting worse and what to do about it.

"How to Make Your Writing Less Stiff Part 3" by @physalian - Physalian's whole blog has some excellent advice, so definitely give it a look!

"How to Improve Your Writing" - Also by literaryvein-reblogs, this offers some excellent exercises to help with sentence-level issues, such as modifiers, parallelism, and details.

Publishing

"How to promote your book online : a discussion about social media (and few tips)" by writer-logbook - Great tips about how to get more interest in your book. I especially enjoyed the emphasis on patience and consistency. Writer-logbook has some excellent info overall about the nitty-gritty of writing, so I definitely recommend poring through their blog in general. (That's why they're included here twice!)

"A masterclass in how not to market your books, in one singular tweet" - Wherein I help you derive lessons from an abysmal tweet by an author.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 1: Mindset Edition)" - I talk about how being delulu is not the solulu, that yes marketing is important (even if it is horrible), and how a bit of self-confidence can go a long way.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 2: Presentation Edition)" - Graphics and covers and blurbs! Learn about them. Do not do what I did.

"Mistakes I Made When Self-Pubbing My First Book (Part 3: Ads and Reviews Edition)" - Why you have to get reviews. You gotta. And you gotta demand them. Shake those reviews out of your readers. You'll thank me later.

Specific Research Advice

"Assassination Methods Through the Decades: A Writer’s Handbook" by @hayatheauthor - A thorough review of different assassination methods, including a section discussing common assassination methods by region!

"How to Write Someone in a Wheelchair" - A group effort! This is a reblog chain discussing body language in manual wheelchairs, the mechanics of power wheelchairs, wheelchair propulsion methods, and a reminder that just because someone is in a wheelchair doesn't mean they can't walk short distances.

"Writing Research Notes: Caves" - Oh caves how I love them. Caves. Let me tell you about them if you want to write about caves. Blessed.

"Writing Research Notes: Horses" - A beginner's guide to horse mindsets, whether horses like working, approaching horses, how to ride, and tips on training.

"Writing Research Notes: Bipolar Disorder" - Written by me, a writer with bipolar disorder! This shares basic facts about bipolar, offers a list of symptoms you can use, and cautions you against spreading misinformation through poor characterization or myths.

"Writing Research Notes: Politics" - I provide a quick overview about governments and international relations, based off my suffering while getting an MA in International Relations.

"Stop Doing This in Injury Fics!" by @pygmi-says-hi - Discusses some common errors when writing whump/angst. The fever part was especially helpful for me!

"Writing US Military Characters" by @lookbluesoup - An explanation of the habits and mentality of US military characters. Many of these were quite helpful for my fantasy military characters, so you can get a lot of mileage out of these for soldiers in other militaries too!

Little Funsies

"What Painting Style Is Your Writing?" - A short exploration of different writing styles to help you better understand your own approach.

I'll be adding onto this as I continue to scroll through my old likes and, of course, as I find more resources.

[saintsenara]

Riddle’s extremely fearful and aggressive reaction to Dumbledore when he thinks he’s a doctor (and the fact that he assumes this at all and believes he is being lied to) has some pretty dark implications (which of course no one follows up on). Do you have thoughts?

thank you very much for the ask, anon!

and yes - this has occurred to me too... which means that my thoughts come with a trigger warning for the sexual abuse of a child, and are under the cut.

the relevant scene in canon is, of course, this:

“I am Professor Dumbledore.” “Professor?” repeated Riddle. He looked wary. “Is that like doctor? What are you here for? Did she get you in to have a look at me?”  He was pointing at the door through which Mrs. Cole had just left. “No, no,” said Dumbledore, smiling.  “I don’t believe you,” said Riddle. “She wants me looked at, doesn’t she? Tell the truth!”  He spoke the last three words with a ringing force that was almost shocking. It was a command, and it sounded as though he had given it many times before. His eyes had widened and he was glaring at Dumbledore, who made no response except to continue smiling pleasantly. After a few seconds Riddle stopped glaring, though he looked, if anything, warier still. “Who are you?” “I have told you. My name is Professor Dumbledore and I work at a school called Hogwarts. I have come to offer you a place at my school - your new school, if you would like to come.”  Riddle’s reaction to this was most surprising. He leapt from the bed and backed away from Dumbledore, looking furious.  “You can’t kid me! The asylum, that’s where you’re from, isn’t it? ‘Professor,’ yes, of course - well, I’m not going, see? That old cat’s the one who should be in the asylum. I never did anything to little Amy Benson or Dennis Bishop, and you can ask them, they’ll tell you!”

the surface-level reading of this scene - which is clearly what the text wants us to go for - is that riddle thinks he's about to be institutionalised for being "mad" - and, specifically, that he thinks that what dumbledore has been told is his "madness" is actually his magic.

[he is also clearly meant to be read as panicking a little bit that he's fucked around torturing his fellow children and is now about to find out...]

that riddle accepts he's a wizard so easily - and that he is so reassured by dumbledore agreeing that he's not mad - is something the text wants us to read as sinister. him immediately describing himself as "special" is set up as a precursor to the adult voldemort's delusions of grandeur - which the entire arc of the series, ending in his death as an ordinary man, is designed to undermine.

but i've always disliked this reading. the eleven-year-old riddle - a magical child raised around non-magical people - is objectively correct to describe his powers as "special" [in that they make him identifiably different from the crowd] within the context in which he lives. the word choice is nowhere near as deep as dumbledore decides - he's clearly known since he was very young that he's a wizard, but he didn't have the precise language to describe this fundamental part of himself until dumbledore offered it; prior to that, "special" is a perfectly reasonable alternative term.

and, in always knowing that he's a wizard, he also knows that he doesn't have a mental illness - but he must also know that this is something it's near impossible for him to prove.

in the real world, if i spoke to a patient who told me:

“I can make things move without touching them. I can make animals do what I want them to do, without training them. I can make bad things happen to people who annoy me. I can make them hurt if I want to.”

then i would be correct to describe them as experiencing psychosis. and i might - depending on their other symptoms - have reasonable cause to admit them [voluntarily or not] for psychiatric treatment.

riddle is - of course - demonstrably not psychotic. but it's not unreasonable that mrs cole would assume he is - the world she lives in, as a muggle [even if she's a religious one], is one in which people do not possess the ability to move objects or control animals with their minds, and if one of her charges is convinced that he can, then she's justified in seeking medical intervention.

[that psychiatric treatment in the 1930s can be described without exaggeration as inhumane is another matter...]

which is to say, i think we can easily suppose that mrs cole has - prior to dumbledore's arrival - succeeded in having riddle "looked at", and that the idea that he's mentally ill and should be committed to an asylum has been mentioned before. i think most of us would be instinctively [and angrily] wary of doctors if this happened to us, regardless of how nice the doctors in question were.

and maybe that's all there is to it.

and maybe it isn't...

in the doylist text, the eleven-year-old riddle's personality is the way it is because he's the villain of the series. where harry is preternaturally capable, even as a child, of all the things the series defines as admirable - above all, enduring difficulty without complaint - riddle is preternaturally incapable of them. he's meant to come across as unambiguously sinister - and the fact that the text repeatedly emphasises that he has control over his unpleasant traits invites us to view him as someone who is acting with full agency. that he lives in an orphanage is a trope which the text uses, like a campy horror film might, predominately to underscore how creepy he is - and the text, in keeping with its general lack of interest in states and their institutions, never really prompts us to interrogate the impact of his childhood upon the course his life takes.

[this is despite the fact that voldemort's reliving of the night he killed the potters in deathly hallows is an incredibly accurate depiction of ptsd...]

but it's also the case that the eleven-year-old riddle's behaviour and personality fits a pattern we might expect to see in a child who is being abused, sexually or otherwise:

he's aggressive, he has a hair-trigger temper, and he becomes distressed even by behaviour - such as dumbledore speaking mildly and calmly - which would not ordinarily be expected to provoke such a reaction.

his broader emotional state is fractious. his mood changes sharply, he seems to feel emotions very profoundly, he struggles to control his emotional response to things, he's extremely easily irritated, he's attention-seeking - and he particularly seeks negative attention, and he's very highly-strung. his admission in deathly hallows that he feels calm before he kills - or before he otherwise eradicates a threat or a problem - comes with the flip-side that he's someone who appears, when things aren't going well or he finds himself in a situation which he can't control, to become quite anxious. which is a trauma response.

he's extremely isolated. the text presents the fact that he has no friends as a deliberate choice - "lord voldemort has never had a friend, nor do i believe that he has ever wanted one" - and his relationship with everyone else he ever meets, including his fellow orphans, is defined by the text as exclusively involving him controlling, manipulating, and punishing them. or: he is always the more powerful person in the pairing. but this need for control can be read as self-protective just as easily as it can be read as sinister. there are hints in canon that riddle is not just some malevolent force in the orphanage preying on mild-mannered innocents. for example, billy stubbs, the owner of the rabbit he kills, is targeted by riddle as revenge: “Billy Stubbs’s rabbit... well, Tom said he didn’t do it and I don’t see how he could have done, but even so, it didn’t hang itself from the rafters, did it? [...] But I’m jiggered if I know how he got up there to do it. All I know is he and Billy had argued the day before." on the rare occasions billy turns up in fics, he's usually - i find - written very like neville - sweet and guileless and a bit pathetic. but the alternative reading - especially when we take into account that riddle attacks the rabbit rather than billy himself - is that billy is someone he would be afraid to physically confront. indeed, it's striking that voldemort - at all stages of his life - is described as being quite physically fragile. not only is he very thin, but he's always cold and his heartbeat is described several times in canon as irregular. i think this is supposed to be a comment on the physical changes he undergoes the more horcruxes he makes - although the idea that the soul would affect the heart doesn't actually align with how the series understands the soul to relate to the body - but it can also be interpreted perfectly legitimately as something he was experiencing prior to splitting his soul. i am committed to the headcanon that riddle was quite a sickly child - and that this is one of the things which drives his fear of death - and i'm also committed to the idea that his obsession with magic is because the enormity of his magical power makes up for his physical lack. he can defeat - and humiliate and frighten and remove the threat of - billy or dennis [or even an adult man?] with magic. without it, if they were to physically overpower him, then he wouldn't be able to throw them off.

he is extremely nervous about being alone in a room with dumbledore - someone he doesn't know, and who he assumes is connected to a profession [and, maybe, who knows any other doctors he's been previously made to see...] of which he is frightened.

he doesn't trust or confide in anyone - which, as a child, means particularly that he doesn't trust or confide in adults in positions of responsibility. he's clearly uneasy with the idea of finding himself in the subordinate position in an adult-child relationship when dumbledore offers to take him shopping for school supplies - potentially because he's worried that dumbledore will try and dictate or restrict what he's allowed to buy unless he behaves in a certain way... and i am always very struck that dumbledore says in half-blood prince: "He was very guarded with me; he felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his true identity he had told me a little too much. He was careful never to reveal as much again." this is presented in the text as evidence that dumbledore is the only person of whom voldemort is afraid - by which the text means that voldemort acknowledges that dumbledore knows that an ordinary man, mortal and unimpressive, lurks behind the mask of unassailable power he has created for himself; and which the text thinks is a good thing. but we can also read it as a self-protective act on riddle's part. in his excitement, he offers dumbledore information [that he is known to be a liar, that he is in trouble a lot, that mrs cole dislikes him and is disinclined to believe anything he says] which would give dumbledore - or anyone in a similar position of power and presumed respectability - cover to abuse him, safe in the knowledge that he would be unlikely to be believed if he reported it.

he doesn't appear to feel safe in the orphanage and he's frequently absent from it - by his own admission, he spends a huge amount of time wandering around london on his own, which may even involve him staying away for several days at a time. nobody appears to notice or care about this.

he's very independent - which the text again presents as evidence of his deliberate self-isolation and rejection of the bonds of love and friendship - and his independence is unusual for a child his age [i.e. that he is capable of doing all his own shopping for school].

his knowledge of violence - i.e. how he designs the trip to the cave to be maximally psychologically devastating for dennis and amy and devoid of repercussions for himself - is also more advanced and methodical than would be expected in a child of his age. again, the text uses this to emphasise how inextricable the child-voldemort is from his adult self - and also, to some extent, to underscore the intellectual brilliance [his magic is also more advanced than is normal for a child] which his narrative archetype [the exceptional villain who is defeated by the everyman hero] requires. but we can also read it as evidence of his own victimisation. a common sign that a child is being sexually abused is that they display a knowledge of sexual behaviour which is more advanced than is reasonable for a child of their age - for example, knowing in detail how a sex act is performed, or fluently using sexual slang which they have no chance of knowing either from age-appropriate settings like school-based sex education or conversations with a parent or trusted adult, or from the sort of enthusiastic hoarding of rude words and phrases all children enjoy as they grow up. riddle's precise, clinical knowledge of how to manipulate, frighten, torture, and control can be seen as something similar. if he can - at eleven or younger - methodically break down another child until they're "never quite right" again, then this is because he's learned how to from someone.

he keeps secrets. and he also goes out of his way to extract them. his grooming of ginny in chamber of secrets - he manipulates her into confiding things she wants to keep to herself, promises he won't tell anyone, and then uses the threat that he will to get her to do his bidding - is an absolutely textbook example of how abusers use the idea of secrecy to control their victims. it doesn't make his abuse of ginny any less inexcusable if we assume he learns this from being on the other side of things.

dumbledore understands his little cache of objects as trophies he's taken from victims - and the text takes the view that dumbledore is correct in this assessment. that hoarding trophies is something widely associated with serial killers means that this is yet another thing which underlines how creepy - and how like his adult self - the child-voldemort is. but it's also the case that the adult - and teenage - voldemort places a lot of emphasis on gift-giving as part of his control over other people. the two most obvious examples in canon are wormtail being given his shiny hand as a reward for helping voldemort get his body back, and slughorn being buttered up with crystallised pineapple before voldemort asks him about horcruxes. the text thinks this is sinister - and one of the reasons it does this is because gift-giving is a grooming tactic. the text also clearly thinks this isn't behaviour voldemort has learned from the other side. and yet a common sign that a child is being abused is if they have possessions it doesn't make sense for them to own [i.e. a child from a low-income background who is suddenly decked in designer clothes] and which they can't or won't explain how they came by. riddle's cache isn't luxurious - although he's so poor that a yoyo or a mouth organ probably is a luxury to him - but there's also nothing in canon which precludes the objects being presents, rather than stolen goods. if the spell dumbledore uses to make the box rattle is caused by a statement which is both relatively ambiguous and dependent on dumbledore's subjective personal morality - is there anything in this room he's acquired through nefarious means? - then the spell would still work as it does in canon if riddle was an abuse victim given the objects as "rewards". dumbledore's tendency to locate right and wrong in the individual and dumbledore's belief that good people should steadfastly endure misery means he can be written entirely canon-coherently as someone who would think a victim who appeared to collude in their own abuse - such as a victim who "offered" a sexual act because their abuser promised them something if they did - was behaving consensually, manipulatively, and nefariously. and it's worth noting that when riddle doesn't know what dumbledore has done to make the box rattle, he is "unnerved". when he realises dumbledore thinks he's stolen the objects - and that he has no interest in forcing him to admit this aloud - he is "unabashed". perhaps because he's just received proof that an experience he doesn't want to talk about is still secret...

on the other hand, the objects could indeed be stolen - because petty criminality and anti-social behaviour, especially in pre-teen children, is also a sign of abuse.

he can be extremely obsequious - when dumbledore tells him to watch how he speaks he becomes "unrecognisably polite", he ruthlessly flatters slughorn, and he is cringingly deferential to hepzibah smith. the text understands this as evidence that his apparent charm is only superficial - another trait associated in the popular imagination with serial killers [and it's striking that so much about the young voldemort - handsome, charming, seemingly quiet and polite, true evil lurking underneath the mask - is exactly like the pop-culture persona which has been created for ted bundy...]. voldemort himself agrees that his charm is performative in chamber of secrets: “If I say it myself, Harry, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted." but his obsequiousness is also a fawn response - a way of minimising a threat by attempting to please the person issuing it. he becomes "unrecognisably polite" - after all - in response to this: Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. “If, as I take it, you are accepting your place at Hogwarts - ” “Of course I am!” “Then you will address me as ‘Professor’ or ‘sir.’ ”  Riddle’s expression hardened for the most fleeting moment before he said, in an unrecognisably polite voice, “I’m sorry, sir. I meant - please, Professor, could you show me - ?”  riddle could reasonably interpret what dumbledore says here as a threat to prevent him attending hogwarts - even though dumbledore evidently doesn't mean it in this way - and he switches to being fawning because this is something he really doesn't want to happen...

do i think that any of this is what the text was actually going for? no. and nor do i think that reading riddle as a victim of abuse excuses the violence which the adult voldemort goes on to perpetuate.

but i think it is a reading of his characterisation which is both canon-plausible and interesting - a strange, sickly child with a reputation for cruelty and dishonesty being abused by the respectable doctor who is constantly called in to treat his coughs and wheezes, who buys him little presents and charms him into telling him secrets, who then [to paraphrase the teenage voldemort] feeds him a few secrets of his own, safe in the knowledge that nobody will ever believe him if he tries to get help.

and i also think this a reading which is sincerely important.

a significant contributor to the prevalence of child abuse - no matter what exact form this abuse takes - is that we are culturally conditioned to imagine that both the abuser and the victim will look and behave in a certain way if the abuse is "real".

and this means, all too often, that we take child abuse more seriously when the victim is "sympathetic" - when they're from a stable home, and their family are respectable, and they do well in school, and they're polite and sweet, and they look innocent, and they behave perfectly appropriately for their age, and nobody would ever dare to say that they come across as older than they are, and they're white, and they don't have a history of lying, and they don't have a history of attention-seeking, and they don't have a criminal record, and they're not abusive themselves, and there's absolutely no way of suggesting that they colluded in their abuse, and the perpetrator was someone who looks like a child abuser.

someone who is creepy, low-status, ugly, unpopular. someone who everyone can tell is socially abnormal, someone who nobody would ever intentionally permit to be around their children. not someone who is charming, well-respected, attractive, rich, popular, trustworthy. not someone who has a loving family and a happy home. not someone we might be friends with.

but many perpetrators of child abuse are these second group of people. and many victims of child abuse are "unsympathetic", when their social positions and reputations are compared to their abusers' own.

they lie. they steal. they're attention-seeking. they're vindictive. they have trouble distinguishing between imagination and reality. they're violent. they're bullies. they hurt animals. they abuse other children. they take drugs. they're mentally-ill. they come from broken homes. they're in the care of the state. they're dirty. they're poor. they're odd. they're behind at school and badly-behaved in the classroom. they do things which allow their abuse to be dismissed as something they brought upon themselves - they speak or dress in certain ways, they pose provocatively in pictures and post them on the internet, they are known to be sexually active outside of the context of their abuse, they lie about being over the age of consent, they engage in sexual behaviour with an adult abuser in a way which appears [even though it isn't, and there's never a circumstance in which it will be] to be consensual or for their own personal gain, they are flattered by the attention they receive from someone who is important or attractive grooming them, they have complicated - and not always wholly negative - feelings towards their abusers.

and they are still - unequivocally - victims, and what happens to them is still - unequivocally - abuse.

tom riddle is an unsympathetic victim - not only of any potential abuse, but also of the horrors of his life which are explicit on the canon page: that he is raised in an orphanage; that he is grieving; that he knows nothing about his family; that he is thought to be mad.

the absence of any institutional response to his childhood experiences - dumbledore, by his own admission, discloses nothing about riddle to his fellow teachers - is a flaw repeated again and again in the worldbuilding of the harry potter series.

hogwarts - and the wizarding [and muggle] state more broadly - doesn't intervene in any case of neglect or abuse, from harry to snape to voldemort's own parents. the series' individualistic morality means that we aren't supposed to interrogate these collective failings. and the series' black-and-white view of good and evil - and its general belief that violence is fine if the person it happens to "deserves" it - means that it has no interest in examining the ways that poverty, isolation, and neglect are risk factors; that straightforwardly unpleasant people can still be victims; that victims can go on to become perpetrators without their victimhood ceasing to matter; and that the abuse of children usually takes place not in silence and secrecy, concealed in ways which make it fine for adults not to notice it and not to intervene, but in plain sight.

this is knowledge it never hurts to refresh. thinking about lord voldemort's childhood might be an usual way of doing so... but it is an effective one nonetheless...

[anantaru]

— their favorite form of pda (public display of affection)

including dan heng, blade, jing yuan, luocha, sampo, gepard, welt x gn! reader

꒰ genre ꒱ — fluff, crack, very sweet n cute

when it comes to dan heng, he, for one part, enjoys less than more— you can catch him quietly patting your back whenever you‘re doing something, or on any occasion you'd meet up with your boyfriend, he'd make himself visible by kissing your cheek. it's rarely your lips when people were close by, yet if it was someone he considered a friend as well, dan heng did not mind smooching your lips for a short while. by all odds, he was observant of the current setting he found himself in and he waits long enough to relocate the vibes and go with them. it's also worth to note that dan heng would never attempt to do something to make you uncomfortable, he was a patient man, marking time and pausing to identify any discomfort.

notably enough, blade thinks it‘s cute, no scrap that, doubtlessly ambrosial when he notices how you're waiting for it to happen— howbeit, you‘re sneakily inching a square near his body so he can as a matter of course swathe his broad arm around your shoulders and leave it there to be tumbling around you. all the same example was blade expecting you to do the same and encircle him back. briefly, you will remain in a flowing setting and be fond of the exchanged heaves of air when you‘re slowing yourself into his chest— because fundamentally speaking, there has been nothing that had a more tranquil stifling on you then listening to blade's heart-beats.

as one clearly might’ve made an estimate thus far, jing yuan needs you to be as sheltered as possible against his immersing cradle. your boyfriend evidently does not want to unintentionally overstep any boundaries with you and makes it his own personal responsibility to be an eager listener while also hugely monitoring when he senses it‘s okay to approach you a tad closer. as a general rule, the subdued signaling will wind up with jing yuan listlessly planting his palm on your lower back whenever you walk into, well, really anywhere; a fine scented flower shop was only one of such. greater yet— the man was a gentleman, opening the door for you and silently swaying his large hand up and down your back to voicelessly tell you that, yes indeed, he was present and there's nothing for you to worry about.

the fetching and enticing luocha who, in his immediate brilliance, had a charming practice of turning relatively flustered, cheeks swelled up whenever he thought about it— all in all, what in the eyes of his significant other was too much or too little, all your boyfriend wanted to proudly achieve was to hit that spotless middle and make you doubtlessly happy in the process. he coughs, managing to get his hand towards your lower arm before exhaling softly, it's done now, he realizes, lips twitching in the process when you're amusedly watching him fold, "this is awkward, don't you think?" you giggle, pointing towards the comical picture of luocha holding onto you— significantly resembling a child holding onto their parent in a grocery store. "lets try this instead." above you, you see a man with a blush on his handsome features, leaning into whatever you say as you effortlessly slip your fingers and tangle them into his own.

how would you, individualistically, describe your boyfriend sampo koski? by fair means, it was impossible, unthinkably out of the question. you often find yourself quite surprised and baffled on how fickle and unpredictable he appeared to be. wether it had been sampo suddenly grabbing a stern hold of your hand to twirl you around in front of everyone or him swiftly cutting you off mid speech to place a kiss on your parted lips. 'i felt like it', he says proudly, with that damned smirk caked around the sharp edges of his mouth, but 'i needs more' sampo will add on, only then he'll shut up in a satisfied bliss and let you carry on with the topic you had been rambling about to him.

you sometimes wonder if the general and your personal protector gepard could turn even cuter— the hint of a full shaded blush on his cheeks as he averts his gaze and nervously coughs into his hand. but do not get fooled, he cannot possibly help himself, it's not like he will ever get used to you agreeing to the silent, little flushed request of gepard longing to hold your hand. be it known throughout entire spaces, he certainly does not stop here, what held gepard's mind locked behind heart shaped clouds, was when you'd visit him at work sometimes— undeniably when he wasn't busy for once; the unwavering courage, as he referred to it, for you to smirkingly place a subtle kiss on his burning lips after encountering him was indescribable for the man, and this craving he went through now had become like an infinite road— forever, he hopes, you'd show him more of that flickering kindness, the one that had lifted any burdens off his soul.

upwardly subtle and efficiently sophisticated— the very two turns of phrases that would adequately describe welt‘s usual approach on you. if he had to speak out more clear to a subject such as pda, which he does more than you'd sometimes like to admit, he was personally not all too bothered nor interested on it. distinctly, it's not like he found any particular distaste in it, he simply has not spent any time going over it alone more sufficiently. in a clearer way did he not view it as something holding a significant importance in your relationship. but, from time to time, he too catches himself fall into it, especially when you‘re inviting him with open arms surrounded by precious friends and colleagues, awaiting a passion infused hug welt always did justice to.

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[astrodice]

What career suites you best based on destiny matrix? (part 1/3)

To find out what career suits you best and what can you do to succeed, we have to look at the number under the dollar sign.

1 - Magician

People with magician energy are very talented, ambitious and hardworking. They are early satisfied with mediocre results and salary. They always try for more and they have all the right tools to achieve all of their goals. Negative aspect of this energy is that people might lie and use other people to get benefits or they can spend their life wasting their talents by doing nothing.

The most suitable career:

tbh, they can do anything

Challenges that affect career:

laziness, hoping that everything will be figured out by itself

detachment from colleagues, lying

using people, being selfish

2 - High Priestess

People with high priestess energy are highly intuitive and may I say slow (they need more time to come up with a plan). A career that requires making fast decisions is not suitable for those people. On the contrary, they need a job that will allow them to move at a stable measured pace and use their intuition.

The most suitable career:

healer

psychologist, therapist

artist

Challenges that affect career:

avoiding conflicts

being afraid to show off your skills

not being able to make quick decisions

3 - Empress

People with empress energy are definition of "beauty and brains". Such individuals easily identify points of contact with the interests of other people, solve all problems quickly and confidently. Also, since they feel confident around women, it's easy for them to make career in a field focused on women or women's needs.

The most suitable career:

CEO

medical worker

florist

beauty industry worker

Challenges that affect career:

pride, sense of superiority

power abuse

being overly materialistic

irrational spendings/hoarding

4 - Emperor

People with emperor energy are executive, demanding (of themselves and of others) and they quickly gain credibility and respect. Such individuals have every chance to take a high position or open their own business.

The most suitable career:

analyst

accountant

auditor

lawyer

policeman, soldier

CEO

Challenges that affect career:

being controlling, demanding

inability to find compromises

power abuse

5 - Hierophant

People with hierophant energy have high intelligence and excellent memory. They are also charismatic which makes them to be a good speakers, they just know how to make public listen.

The most suitable career:

teacher, professor, coach

analyst

historian, librarian

lawyer

marriage counsellor

medical worker

Challenges that affect career:

being demanding

unwillingness to delegate responsibilities

unwillingness to learn something new

6 - Lovers

People with lovers energy have an eye for seeing pros and cons and can skillfully transform one into the other. The have aesthetically pleasing taste, empathy and good artistic skills.

The most suitable career:

designer

interpreter

artist

psychologist, therapist

marriage counsellor

beauty industry worker

Challenges that affect career:

working in a field that you hate

being overly emotional during decision-making

people-pleasing

imposing your opinion

7 - Chariot

People chariot will succeed in any field where they will be active and hardworking. They are disciplined, good at controlling their emotions, they also have an ability to react quickly and clearly to any change in the situation.

The most suitable career:

traveller, travel-blogger

flight attendant

driver

travel agent

Challenges that affect career:

Inability to rest (workaholism)

lack of goals, incorrect goal setting (goals are too easy or impossible to achieve)

rushed decisions

[satvruu]

ೀ how they hug you

rewritten and reposted of my hc set from my old blog @/star-puff! thank you to all my old dedications as well as my new ones @kurooppi @wyllsravengard for making my return to this fandom possible <3

feedback is very appreciated!

ft. yuuji, megumi, gojo, getou, nanami

itadori yuuji embraces you warmly, fondly, sunlight streaming through the window and scattering over your bare skin. it's someplace safe and comforting, enveloped in his arms like he's taken it upon himself to protect you from everything horrible in the world; he is your knight, he is your shield, your safe haven to escape to, no matter how many wounds he will endure in the process. ("yuuji," you whisper, a hand coming up to rest gently on his arm. he bleeds desperation. "i'm okay, i promise." yuuji squeezes you tighter, trembling, and you wonder what you can do to make it true for him, too.) he holds you for far too long for it to be anything casual, but you can't really complain about it anyway—it's better this than to witness the alternative. after all, what is the sun without a place to hold its warmth; what becomes of a hero when they fail to protect the things that matter most?

fushigurou megumi comes to you slow, steady, a ripple of water in the pond. you coax him out gently, holding your arms out before wrapping them around him. his breath hitches (always, no matter how many times he tries to hide it) and his body stiffens, arms frozen at his sides. but slowly, surely, your head buried in his chest, megumi's arms begin to wrap around you in a manner you can only describe as tender—as if you could break if he held onto you too tight. (truthfully, megumi thinks he's just afraid. the jujutsu world is a dangerous one, after all, even to those who only know of it by name. megumi has lost too many people, and you're the one person he can't afford to lose.) he flinches at the thought, pulling away. you draw yourself closer in him, instead. moonlight behind the clouds, you'd gladly hold onto this night forever if it meant megumi was by your side.

gojo satoru is known as many things—a child prodigy, the strongest, a boy-god making his presence known on the lowly earth, but to you, he is simply just obnoxious. satoru makes it a spectacle each time he sees you: hollering, gallivanting, draping himself over you with his long limbs and impossible-to-miss frame. you huff and complain and uselessly try to drag yourself away from him each time, but satoru hooks onto you and refuses to let you go, nuzzling his face into yours. (they're mine, the action screams, a blaring warning to anyone unfortunate enough to get caught in the collateral. you've been too caught up in your irritation of him to notice this, of course, and you're certainly not someone who would take the explicit meaning of it kindly, but satoru finds that he doesn't really care. not when he has more important things to attend to.) gojo satoru is many things, but the one thing he absolutely isn't is someone who can share.

getou suguru smells of sandalwood incense, a musky amber you think you could identify blind. sometimes, you think you remember a different suguru, a kinder suguru, one that had easier things to worry about, a brighter look in his eyes, an easier weight to his gait. if you think back far enough, you suppose it might have been because he had somebody else by his side to keep it that way, a brighter light shining next to him to keep the darkness at bay. (but that was a long time ago. now, suguru is the one left to be lit by the fire, stuck in the ashes of his own kin for a future little understand. you're not sure who is to blame for that anymore.) you're not the light that can save him—no one can be, not anymore. when suguru reaches out to you, rare vulnerability bubbling over in a way you can only describe as drowning—as crumbling—the only thing you can do is curl yourself next to him in the incense burner, smearing yourself in the ash.

nanami kento thinks you need this, especially after a long, hard day. the melting comes slow: his hands on your back, gentle pats and quiet whispers of comfort as he rests his chin on your head. and then comes everything else. his hands slot perfectly into the dip of your back, the small of your waist, thumbs rubbing small circles over the fabric of your clothes, and in the eyes of no one but yourselves, the two of you begin to sway back and forth to a quiet melody nanami begins to hum. you cling onto the fabric of his shirt, trying to memorie the smell of his cologne, the rumble of his voice, the warmth of his arms. (it's too much, to have a memory of a future that will inevitably happen. you almost want to cry. don't go, you want to say, a lump in your throat, wishing for the impossible. don't go.) and still, selfish as you are, nanami hugs you like you're slow dancing in the dark.

[psychedelic-ink]

ㅤㅤㅤ✦ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐎 ⸻ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒

ㅤㅤjoel miller x f!reader

⌜HOW MR. MILLER STOLE CHRISTMAS MASTERLIST⌟

genre: enemies to lovers, romance, fake dating, minors dni

word count: 5.2k

chapter summary: unlike what you thought, the rumor hasn't been dying out and with a new game plan in mind, you go to seek out Joel.

warnings: age gap, fake dating, mostly fluff, drinking, small town gossip, people talking about the age difference, another heated kiss

**dividers by @saradika

You’re a fucking idiot. 

A moron. 

A fool. 

Fucking small towns. Of course, rumors would spread. Of course, everyone would start talking about seasoned survivor Joel Miller and his new young lover. You shudder at the thought, unable to identify if it’s a bad shudder or the kind that makes your stomach flutter. You hate the idea of Joel being right. He’d said people would talk. And newsflash, unlike what you had thought, the gossip hasn’t died out. 

There are two fundamental reasons why neither you nor Joel can just shrug it off, saying it’s not true. The first reason is that both Steven and Marc saw you being shoved up against a wall, passionately locking lips with Joel. The second reason is the fact that no one would think the twins were lying.

Again, this wouldn’t be an issue if you didn’t have a past to hide. People would start digging if you told them the rumors were only that. Rumors. They would start asking questions like where the two knew each other from. And you knew for a fact that Joel doesn’t want people digging either. People knew what kind of man he was, but that doesn’t necessarily mean they will turn a blind eye to him killing the last hope of human survival. 

Snow crunches under your boots, your body sweating despite the cold. Tommy’s place finally comes into view. You pray he hadn’t heard any of the rumors, as impossible as that might be. 

Some part of you believes that if a time ever comes when everyone finds out what Joel had done, you'll stick up for him. You’re the only person who knows the way of the firefly. How easy it was for them to kill when they thought they were the heroes. In the end, he spared you, it was hard to hate a person who allowed you to live. No matter how much he regrets it now. 

On the porch, you stare at the door. It’s weathered for the most part, some parts fixed and polished but not the whole thing. 

You knock loudly two times, it doesn’t take long for Tommy to open the door, his lips curling instantly when he lays his eyes on you. 

“Well well well, look who it is,” he says too cheerfully, you’re already rolling your eyes. “The good old sister-in-law! Can you tell me why I had to hear about you and my brother tying the knot from Wellington?” 

Jesus fucking Christ, Wellington knows? No wonder this bullshit isn’t dying out. 

“We’re not married Tommy.” 

“Yet.”

“Just tell me where he is, matchmaker.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his smile melting, “You don’t know?” 

It takes you everything for you not to take deep heavy breaths. He’s making this exceptionally hard. You had a plan. And that plan meant you and Joel wouldn’t be an item in the near future. For said plan to work, however, no one needs to know it was fake to begin with. 

“I don’t have his schedule, Tommy, and I wanted to surprise him with,” You press your molars together and lift your bag, forcing a smile. “Baked goods.”  

Tommy is full of glee again, “Awwww how fuckin’ sweet. Didn’t know you had it in ya Pecan.” Before you can answer, he points to the bag. “I’ll give you the information for one cinnamon roll.” 

You give him a deadpan look, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You’d only gotten two and you were looking forward to it. Instinctively you pull the bag back, hiding it behind you. “No.”  

“Come on, pay up, or else I ain’t tellin’ you.” 

“Fuck, fine. You’re a mean one.” 

“If you say Mr Grinch I’m taking two.” 

“No!” 

He grins widely, perfect straight teeth coming into view. As he leans forward to snatch the bag away, you get a whiff of his scent and witness how perfectly his dark locks fall forward. Fuck, what kind of super genes did the Millers possess? How are they both so effortlessly attractive? It’s sometimes easy to forget that Tommy can be classified as good-looking since the two of you tend to give each other hell most of the time. But during those short moments where you get a good look at him? It’s devastating. 

Tommy holds out the bag and stuffs the cinnamon roll into his mouth, his jaw moving. 

“You really not gonna share it with Maria? It’s a miracle your spine isn’t broken from sleeping on the couch.”

He takes the roll out of his mouth and takes a proper bite, “I’m a fuckin’ delight to be around and she’s not home.” You take the bag and as you do, stick out your tongue. “Brat. Your loverboy is at the tree farm cuttin’ up trees. Tell him I say hi and he should find me later.” 

“I’m not his secretary.” 

“It’s almost like you want me to take all your treats.” 

The smell of pine fills your lungs and you’re grateful. You adore the smell. The freshness and sweetness of it mixing with the crispness of snow. You’re honestly amazed at how organized the tree farm is. Tall, lush pine trees in perfect order as you walk between them. Lights have been strung up temporarily, the wires that tie them together so thin that it almost looks like they’re hanging from the sky. They must look beautiful during the night. 

It takes you a while to find Joel. He’s in the back and you approach him silently. That wasn’t your initial intention, being snuck up on is never fun. But the way he’s chopping wood makes your insides feel all runny and warm. You didn’t know he additionally chopped firewood as well. He lifts the axe and throws it down, sweat beading on his forehead. The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, exposing the sinewy muscle of his forearms to your gaze. He cuts down another log, it becomes two in one swift motion. Your mouth dries and tongue rushes out to wet your lips. Your mind cruelly reminds you of the night you kissed him, how good it had felt to have him pressed against you, claiming you—

“Why don’t you bring a damn camera next time, it’ll add to the whole stalker pervert thing you have goin’ on right now.” 

Okay. He’s joking. Joking is good, right? Joking means that he doesn’t think about covering your face with a pillow while you sleep. Your body tenses, the soft hairs scattered across your body rising with attention. 

“Sorry,” you blurt out, the two of you standing only inches apart. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you but we need to talk.” 

“I was wonderin’ when you’d come by. Sucks to be wrong doesn’t it?” 

“How was I supposed to know people had nothing else better to do than talk about our non-existent relationship.” 

Joel suddenly throws the axe down, impaling the sharp end into the wood, you jump, adrenaline humming in your ears. He ignores your very fair reaction and peels off his gloves, turning towards the bench, “Gee, only if someone had told you that people would talk.” 

“Yeah, okay I deserve that.” 

He sighs, “What do you want?” 

“Like I’ve been saying since the day I realized who you are: to talk.” 

“Fine. I was about to take a damn break anyway. Come on, now.” 

You both sit on the ice-cold bench, he leans over and picks up a thermos. You’re surprised when he also pulls out two mugs, placing them on top of a clearly handmade bite-sized picnic table. Without a word, you quickly place your offerings as well, at least the ones Tommy had let you get away with, two cheese-stuffed bagels and one cinnamon roll. You frown when you look at it. You really wanted that roll. 

“What’s this?” Joel asks, filling the mugs. 

“I thought you’d be in better spirits with a full stomach.” 

You almost earn a hint of laughter but the sound is quickly swallowed down. The traces of his smile still linger on the corner of his lips, “Well, at least you’re not dumb enough to come empty-handed.” 

Ignoring him, you place your cold palms around the mug and take a sip. The fresh taste of lavender and honey coats your tongue. Your favorite. “Huh, weird,” you mutter. 

“What? Does it taste funny?” 

“No no. It’s just. . . Lavender tea is my favorite.” 

“Go figure,” he takes a sip and scowls. “I’d rather have coffee.” 

“Yeah, I didn’t think you were a tea-loving man.” He grunts and picks up one of the bagels, taking a bite. “About the whole dating situation, I have a plan.” 

He doesn’t acknowledge what you’ve said so you continue, “The plan is we fake it for a while, act like a couple, make everyone gush over us, then we break up, saying we wanted different things. That way no one digs into our pasts.” 

“This is the weirdest way anyone has ever asked me out.” 

You snort, “I’m not asking you out. The key word here is fake. Because if we just say we weren’t dating at all, people are going to wonder why you had me up against a wall. And unless you want to tell people you were threatening me. . .” you give him a look but he’s staring at the horizon, chewing thoughtfully on his bagel. You think he’s scowling but you’re not sure. “I think this is the best way.” 

He swallows the last bite and glares at his mug before taking another sip of his tea, he wrinkles his nose. “How would we have to be around each other? I haven’t exactly been datin’ around that much.” 

“I was six when the outbreak happened. I’m pretty sure your guess is better than mine.” 

That finally catches his attention, his eyes widen, the furrow between his brows deep, “Six?” he repeats. 

“Yeah.” 

You’re used to people being surprised. Most like you haven’t survived. And your references to the past always made you seem older than you were, you preferred it that way. The less people could guess about you the better. Your mom and dad always paid extra attention to tell you about the world before the cordyceps, reminding you that a life like that could still be your reality once again. 

“Was. . .” Joel swallows, pulling you away from your parents. You reach for the other bagel and start eating, giving him time so he can just spit it out. “Was that your first kiss?” 

There is something in his voice, an emotion very similar to guilt. You swallow your bite. 

“No. It wasn’t.” And that’s all you have to say about that. It seems to be enough because he visibly relaxes, his shoulders dropping. You change the subject. Quickly. “I’m thinking we hold hands a bit, kiss each other on the cheek, and stuff like that. We can come up with rules if you want but I think it’s pretty straightforward.” 

He nods. An oddly comfortable silence stretches out. You finish your bagel and drain the rest of your tea. 

“We should probably split this,” he says and pulls out a knife from his belt. 

“Oh. . . you can have it.” 

Joel chuckles, it isn’t quite a laugh but you still take it as a win. “I saw how you were oglin’ it. I ain’t gonna risk you biting my head off,” he cuts it into two and offers you the bigger half. A smile brushes against your lips. “Why didn’t you just get two?” 

“I did!” you gasp, forgetting that the two of you aren’t lovers, not even friends. “Tommy took one as compensation for telling me where you were. By the way, he wanted me to tell you hi and that the two of you should meet up later.” 

“Why ain’t he lettin’ me know his damn self. I know he ain’t doin’ shit today. You’re not my secretary.” 

“That’s what I said!” 

Another chuckle. You’re acing this. 

“I’ll get him to pay you back, don’t worry.” 

“You don’t have to,” you laugh. “It’s just a roll.” 

“Well, you’re my girl now, aren’t you? It would be unboyfriend-like of me not to avenge my girl. If we’re gonna fake it, might as well do it right.” 

My girl. Your cheeks grow warm. You know it’s not real, and that deep down he most likely despises your existence that threatens his peace but still, it’s good to belong. Even if it’s not real. Even if it’s a lie. Your brain tricks your body into feeling whole for a brief moment, that internal coldness you’ve been feeling since the day your parents died melting ever so lightly, the warm water that drips over the icy exterior, warming your stomach. 

“Tell him he owes me two then,” you say, barely above a whisper. “The bakery rarely makes them you know, cinnamon is hard to make.” 

He nods but doesn’t add anything else. The crinkles soften at the corner of his eyes, lips looking soft and pliant. You might’ve even dared enough to say that he looks at peace. 

You stand and leave, taking a mental note to bring him more treats from now on. 

You successfully fool yourself into believing it’s for his sake and not yours. 

Joel enjoys the cold. He always knew he would but was never allowed to say it since he never lived in the cold. He hated that argument. Sure he lived in Austin his entire life but that didn’t mean he didn’t ache for a bit of chill. Even at the end of the world, when he barely had enough to cover his back, he found himself enjoying the little things. The fresh, crisp air, the snow crunching under his boots. 

The silence. 

Sometimes he wonders if he likes it so much because it reminds him of death and considering all the seasons, winter is the one where he is closest to it. Closest to Sarah. He does hope she’s someplace warmer now. He’s not a man of faith, but for her, he’ll believe there’s an afterlife where nothing but good and butterflies exist. 

Joel also feels closest to her when he’s with Tommy. His brother is the only one who knew her, the good in her. He was the one who was there when the world was stripped away from such a kind being, and he was there when she was buried under the world she could always see the best of. 

As Joel walks up to the porch the brothers' eyes meet, it’s true that uncles resemble the kids. Sometimes if the light hits him just right, Joel could see a bit of her in him. 

“You owe her two rolls,” Joel huffs, sitting on the empty chair beside Tommy. 

“I don’t know what she told you but we had a very fair exchange, I don’t owe your little girlfriend shit,” he grins, not noticing the way Joel frowns at the label. “Nice to see the guard dog in you hasn’t died out.” 

“I ain’t a guard dog.” 

“Could’ve fooled me.” 

“Just bring her two tomorrow and I’ll owe you one favor.” 

Tommy’s grin only widens, “You must really want to impress her.” 

Joel fights the urge to roll his eyes. This whole arrangement is going to be a pain in the ass, he can sense it. 

“Fine, tell pecan I’ll have her goods Friday. I doubt I’ll be able to wake up early enough to get it tomorrow but you owe me one Joel.” 

“Why the hell do you call her Pecan anyway? That ain’t her name, you dumbass.” 

“It’s because she has a hard shell but nice and soft on the inside.” Joel’s shoulders raise and he swallows thickly around the knot forming in his throat. He remembers the way you tasted on his tongue. How soft you were against him, no hard shell in sight. Tommy has no idea just how soft you are and can be. His cock twitches under the denim. He hates himself for it. “You should bring her to the party tonight.” 

“Huh?” 

“That party, Joel,” Tommy playfully smacks his shoulder. “Don’t tell me you forgot already. You promised to come.” 

Oh yeah. Fuck. He really doesn’t want to go and deal with all the eyes he already knows will be on him. And you. 

“Yeah, ‘course I remember. I’ll be there.” 

“Just you?” 

Joel sighs, “And her. We’ll be there.” 

“You know, I’m truly happy for you brother. You deserve to be happy with someone who appreciates you.” 

The words sting but he can’t do anything about it. He looks away, eyes staring at the snow-covered trees. “I don’t like being at the center of attention.” 

“It’ll die out. The lonely bachelors are just jealous. Don’t mind them.” 

Joel doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s talking about. You’re nearly half his age, six when the damn world came to an end. He knows people are wondering how the hell an old man like him got a girl like you, as if your age is the only reason to be with you. Not that he would know. None of this is real after all. You don’t appreciate him like Tommy suggested, maybe grateful for not putting a bullet between your eyes but that’s pretty much it. The same goes for him. He doesn’t know you—other than that you enjoy lavender tea with heaping amounts of honey and cinnamon rolls. 

“I won’t, Tommy. No need to worry.” 

When you hear a loud knock at the door, you’re staring at your reflection in the mirror. Ever since the kissing mishap with Joel, you’ve been a bit more conscious of what you look like. You’ve never had a reason to care much about it before and you’re not sure you like being this aware of every little flaw now. 

Walking to the door, you’re not sure who to expect. You don’t have many friends other than Tommy and Maria, you’re already on alert, grabbing a small knife from the kitchen. Old habits die hard. 

What you weren’t expecting is to see a distressed Joel Miller. 

“Didn’t figure you knew where I lived.” 

“I’m the brother-in-law of the woman in charge, of course I know where you live. I know where everyone lives.” 

You lift an eyebrow and lean against the door frame, his eyes drop to the knife but fear is the furthest thing in his features, “Still doesn’t explain why you’re here.” 

“There’s a party at Tommy’s and he wanted me to invite you.” 

An involuntary groan escapes your lips, Tommy knew you didn’t want to go. The fucker. 

“And let me guess, I have to go because we’re a couple.” 

“Don’t give me attitude it was your idea, not mine.” 

He’s right, “Fine. Come in and I’ll change so we can leave.” 

“What’s wrong with what you’re wearin’ right now?” 

You try not to hide yourself behind the door as his eyes sweep you from top to bottom. Inherently, there isn’t anything wrong with what you’re wearing. It's just your typical jeans, sweater, and a dark green flannel thrown on top. You’re warm and cozy. 

“Isn’t this a party?” 

“What do you think they’ll be wearin’? Suits and fancy dresses?” 

“I guess you’re right, I’ll get my jacket.” 

Feeling warmer than normal, you lock the door and the two of you head to Tommy’s. “So, should we. . . talk about what we’re gonna do or say?” 

“Say?” 

Joel shrugs, “You know, if they ask us how we met or somethin’.” 

“I think half the town knows how we met, Joel.” 

“A’right, so our story is that I helped you down, had a couple of drinks, and decided we like each other?” 

“Sounds iron proof to me.” 

“This is fuckin’ stupid.” 

“I don’t see you coming up with any plans.” 

“Wouldn’t even be in this mess if not for you.” 

The harsh bite in his tone makes you take a step back without thinking. You’ve seen this man kill with ease. He’d admitted to regret leaving you alive. Fear is an irrational thing. It’s something that lingers and stays even when the initial threat has been evaded. You’re still afraid despite knowing you don’t have to be. You’ve been enjoying your little talks, you’ve been enjoying spending time with him. Internally you’re conflicted and confused. 

Joel slows down along with you, turning and checking just how far you’ve fallen behind. He stops and turns, eyes taking in the furrow of your brows, the running of your nose. You don’t flinch when he touches your cheek, his gloved hand soft against your skin. He’s so gentle. So gentle that it almost hurts. 

“I ain’t gonna hurt you. Promise,” he lets out a steady breath, fixing you with a leveled gaze. “I might not trust you or even like you, but I won’t hurt you.” 

Your eyes widen, heart thudding loud enough that you’re positive he can hear it. Without a word you nod, tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. Joel nods back. His hand deserts your cheek and he locks your arms together, tugging you along the snow. 

You believe him when he says he won’t hurt you. As foolish as that might be.

Two hours into the party and still all everyone can talk about is Joel and his new girlfriend. Even goddamn Maria had asked about it. Joel is still recovering from his sister-in-law’s interest in the matter. You were a definite natural in faking it. Unlike him, who was already exhausted from it all. It’d been a long couple of hours of holding hands, standing close, and kissing cheeks. 

He’s holding a glass of the finest whiskey he’s ever had since the world ended, surrounded by familiar faces and his brother. You had scurried off somewhere. To the bathroom, he thinks. Or helping Maria with organizing. He probably should’ve asked, but he’s not used to questioning people unless it’s Ellie. But since the two of you are “dating” he suppose he should’ve. 

“Yo Miller.” Joel fights the urge to groan as Wellington approaches with a raised hand. He slaps him on the shoulder, his cheeks and nose red and warm thanks to the alcohol. “You gotta tell me your secret.” 

Joel sends Tommy a questioning gaze, his bother only shrugs. “‘Bout what Wellington?” he sighs. 

“About catchin’ such a fine piece of ass.” 

Joel’s shoulders raise, nostrils flaring as anger boils in his gut, but before he can get out a word Tommy intervenes, “Wellington.” 

“What?” he slurs, turning to the younger Miller. “We’re all thinkin’ it. How old is she huh? Like half your age?” 

Joel feels sick when the man grins. Wellington ain’t lying, you are half his age. Realistically, someone like you would never go for him. An old man who’s lost so much in his lifetime. But of course, he can’t say that, he can’t say anything that might out them as liars. 

“Shut your goddamn mouth,” Joel grunts, pushing Wellington’s hand off his shoulder. “Or I’ll shut it for you.” 

“I’d say money but that don’t exist anymore,” Wellington continues. “So what is it?” 

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up—

“Joel?” 

Your voice cuts through the tension like a knife. Everyone who’s in-ear shot of the conversation stills, an icy cold wind enveloping all of them, including Tommy. Joel recognizes the look of worry in his brother’s eyes. The older Miller swallows thickly as he rips his glare away from Wellington—he’s surprised that despite the amount of alcohol in his veins he looks ashamed.

“Yeah, darlin’?” 

You shudder in a way only he notices. You’ve been doing that a lot lately. Your body subtly going straight and then relaxing. He wonders how much you’ve heard, or rather if you heard. 

“I need some help in the kitchen, could you?” 

“Uh, yeah sure. Of course.” 

He ignores Tommy’s snicker and follows you through the crowd, away from the sight of Wellington and others. You stop at the threshold of the kitchen, not going in. You lean against the door frame and look away. “Sorry, I don’t actually need help. It just looked like you needed saving.” 

“That bad, huh?” 

“If looks could kill, Wellington would be dead thrice.” You say it so nonchalantly that he smiles, Joel mimics your stance and leans against the other side of the doorframe, leaving only little distance between you two. “What did he say?” 

So you didn’t hear. Good. 

“Nothin’ that you need to concern yourself with. He’s just buggin’ me, that’s all.” 

You raise an eyebrow, “Didn’t really look like it was just buggin’.” 

The subtle accent change at the end of your sentence makes him laugh, you shake your head but he sees the way your lips quirk into a smile. 

“You makin’ fun of me sweetheart?” 

“. . . Maybe.” 

“That’s the type of talk that’ll get you in trouble you know.” 

Your smile widens into a grin, “With whom?” 

“Keep it up and you’ll find out.” 

It’s been a long time since he felt like this. The enjoyment of the tug and pull. Heat spreads from the small of his back and reaches all the way to his groin. You must’ve had a couple of drinks before asking for him. You lean closer, your lips deliciously curled as mischief glimmers in your eyes. He wonders if you thought about the kiss. How close your bodies were that night. 

“Be careful Miller,” you say, rolling your tongue over each syllable. “Almost sounds like you want me to keep it up.” 

God, that he does. He’s starting to get hard. Without even thinking he leans a bit closer as well, tilting his head as if he’s about to kiss you. Your eyes flash with something expectant—

“KISS!” 

The delicate moment shatters with reality. You’re not flirting, you can’t, because technically you’re already dating. Joel hates the way you flinch at the sudden crowd shouting. His head whips towards them, only to see Tommy taking charge, he points to something above and both of your heads snap up like a cartoon. 

“Mistletoe,” he says. Lowering his gaze, he gives you a quick smile. “You know what that means, right sweetheart?” 

You roll your eyes, “I do, jerk.” 

“Brat.” 

He almost laughs at the way your lips quickly wound shut. The crowd is getting restless. 

“Don’t y’all have anythin’ better to do?” Joel quips. 

“Nope!” 

The echoes of kiss kiss kiss only get louder from there. Joel sighs, “I don’t think we can escape them.” 

“If I had a penny every time we had to kiss to appease a crowd. . .” you whisper. He expects you to continue but you don’t, instead you place your hands on his cheeks, holding him gently. You come closer and as does he, his hands slide to your hips, tugging you flush against him. 

You’re so soft. Softer than he deserves. 

Unlike the first time, he takes the lead. He pushes you until your back is pressed against the doorframe, he claims your lips with a need he fearfully admits he doesn’t have to fake. He squeezes your hips, the sound of the crowd awing them fading into the background. It’s just his lips that move, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to feel your tongue against his. To feel the quiver of your naked body as he fills you to the brim, kissing you and telling you just how much he enjoys being inside you. 

He swallows your tiny moans and whimpers, and as he breaks away, he pulls at your bottom lip with his teeth. You’re breathless when you meet his gaze, sharp eyes glazed over with a fog of arousal. 

Then, as the crowd claps, he presses the side of his face against your ear, “Just a taste,” he whispers and feels your tremble underneath his palms. “Of what’ll happen if you keep it up.” 

“That was one hell of a party,” you muse. You’re staring at the dark horizon, snow gently falling from the sky. Joel pushes a warm mug of tea between your hands. 

“It’s still goin’ on,” he says. 

“You’d die if you just let me live in my blissful bubble wouldn’t you?” 

“Sure would.” 

You let out a snort as he settles near you, your shoulders brushing against one another. You have to admit, it’s been a fun night—and not only because of the kiss. That was just a bonus. A very hot and steamy bonus. 

It felt too real to be fake. Too real to be nothing. Years you had been alone and now you were sampling what it meant to have someone care for you, to tease you. He doesn’t even know you yet you two fit together like a glove and a hand. Makes you wonder how different this could all have been if he hadn’t been Ellie’s father, and you hadn’t been a part of the Fireflies. 

“Oh good you’re still here.” The two of you turn to see Tommy, his cheeks a little flushed and his breath a little uneven. “I need to ask you two somethin’.” 

“What now?” Joel groans, prompting a smile from you. 

“You heard of the new family in town? The one with two kids?” You have no idea but Joel seems to know who they are. He nods. “We don’t have a house ready for them yet so I was thinkin’. . .” his eyes flicker between yours and Joel’s, your stomach going tight with worry. “You two can live together till we’re finished with the construction.” 

“What?” 

The question leaves your mouth before you can properly register. You turn to Joel but much to your surprise, he seems unfazed. 

“Just for a while,” Tommy says. “I just figured since you two are already datin’. . .” 

Joel ignores his brother completely to fave you, “Your call sweetheart.” 

Seeing him so calm makes you ashamed of your initial reaction. You’re not even sure why you reacted so brashly. It was a simple request. A logical one. 

“Yeah sure, that’s okay,” forcing a smile, you turn to Tommy. Joel’s touch is soothing behind you, hand rubbing small circles at the base of your spine. A welcome comfort. “Just let me grab my things and you can set them up tomorrow.” 

“You’re the best, pecan,” Tommy glows, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “I’ll give Maria the good news.” 

Joel’s hand deserts you almost immediately when his brother is out of sight. It makes your heartstrings tug. “You sure about this?” he asks. “It would be fine if I lived alone but Ellie is a curious one and she’ll figure it out if we ain’t convincin’ enough.” 

“In all honesty, I had completely forgotten about Ellie,” you let out a deep exhale. “But I guess that’s fine. I’m sure we can pull it off. It’s not like I could say no.” 

His gaze softens, “You could’ve asked to stay somewhere else.” 

“No. . . It’s fine, Joel. Really,” you crack a smile. “I feel like I should be asking if you’re alright with it. You’re the one with the problem with me being around Ellie.” 

“I’ll have my eye on you two,” he says a bit too quickly for comfort. 

Your tongue sours, “I’m not going to tell her anything.” 

Joel doesn’t say anything. Or even acknowledges that he’s heard you. He leaves you on the porch, following his brother’s footsteps, you’re left with nothing but a lukewarm mug of tea. 

Then you notice it’s lavender. 

[ame-perduexx]

Astrology Observations🦋

*as always* take what you want, leave what you want

*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*

🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.

🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.

🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.

🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.

🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.

🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.

🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party

🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.

🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.

🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.

🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.

🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.

[nasa]

For the Benefit of All: Assistive Tech Developed from NASA Tech

What do modern cochlear implants and robotic gloves have in common? They were derived from NASA technology. We’ve made it easier to find and use our patented inventions that could help create products that enhance life for people with disabilities.

October is National Disability Employment Awareness Month, which highlights the contributions of American workers with disabilities – many of whom use assistive technology on the job. Take a look at these assistive technologies that are NASA spinoffs.

Low-Vision Headsets

The Joint Optical Reflective Display (JORDY) device is a headset that uses NASA image processing and head-mounted display technology to enable people with low vision to read and write. JORDY enhances individuals’ remaining sight by magnifying objects up to 50 times and allowing them to change contrast, brightness, and display modes. JORDY's name was inspired by Geordi La Forge, a blind character from “Star Trek: The Next Generation” whose futuristic visor enabled him to see.

Cochlear Implants

Work that led to the modern cochlear implant was patented by a NASA engineer in the 1970s. Following three failed corrective surgeries, Adam Kissiah combined his NASA electronics know-how with research in the Kennedy Space Center technical library to build his own solution for people with severe-to-profound hearing loss who receive little or no benefit from hearing aids. Several companies now make the devices, which have been implanted in hundreds of thousands of people around the world.

Robotic Gloves

Ironhand, from Swedish company Bioservo Technologies, is the world’s first industrial-strength robotic glove for factory workers and others who perform repetitive manual tasks. It helps prevent stress injuries but has been especially warmly received by workers with preexisting hand injuries and conditions. The glove is based on a suite of patents for the technology developed by NASA and General Motors to build the hands of the Robonaut 2 humanoid robotic astronaut.

Smart Glasses

Neurofeedback technology NASA originally developed to improve pilots’ attention has been the basis for products aimed at helping people manage attention disorders without medication. The devices measure brainwave output to gauge attention levels according to the “engagement index” a NASA engineer created. Then, they show the results to users, helping them learn to voluntarily control their degree of concentration. One such device is a pair of smart glasses from Narbis, whose lenses darken as attention wanes.

Anti-Gravity Treadmills

A NASA scientist who developed ways to use air pressure to simulate gravity for astronauts exercising in space had the idea to apply the concept for the opposite effect on Earth. After licensing his technology, Alter-G Inc. developed its anti-gravity G-Trainer treadmill, which lets users offload some or all of their weight while exercising. The treadmills can help people recover from athletic or brain injuries, and they allow a safe exercise regimen for others with long-term conditions such as arthritis.

Wireless Muscle Sensors

Some of the most exciting assistive technologies to spin off may be yet to come. Delsys Inc. developed electromyographic technology to help NASA understand the effects of long-term weightlessness on astronauts’ muscles and movements. Electromyography detects and analyzes electrical signals emitted when motor nerves trigger movement. Among the company’s customers are physical therapists developing exercise routines to help patients recover from injuries. But some researchers are using the technology to attempt recoveries that once seemed impossible, such as helping paralyzed patients regain movement, letting laryngectomy patients speak, and outfitting amputees with artificial limbs that work like the real thing.  

To further enhance the lives of people with disabilities, NASA has identified a selection of patented technologies created for space missions that could spur the next generation of assistive technology here on Earth.

Want to learn more about assistive technologies already in action? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[hyunjinners]

✧:･ﾟRunaway → Stray Kids headcanons˚₊· ꒰🌿꒱

꒰ 命 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 ꒱┊During a serious argument he attacks you, raising his voice with hurtful words.

꒰ 命 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ꒱┊hyung line x fem!reader

꒰ 命 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄 ꒱┊angst, sad, established relationship, fights.

꒰ 命 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ꒱┊possible trigger, fight, offensive words (maybe swearing? idk)

꒰ 命 𝐖.𝐂 ꒱┊2,3k (I got a little carried away ;)

꒰ 命 𝐀/𝐍 ꒱┊I really love sad themes, I think it makes me immerse myself in the story in a cool way. Remembering that these are just fictitious situations and that nothing in this chapter matches reality, in other words, just an imaginary scenario created by a fan, nothing is linked to the boys' real attitudes or personalities! Hope you like it, Remembering that English is not my first language, I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling errors. Have a good read! feedbacks are welcome. 🤍

⊹₊˚ʚ❛masterlist❜ɞ

𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 ¡!

You two are definitely what people identify as the perfect couple, always understanding and understanding each other, But that doesn't mean you don't have your differences. You guys don't really like to fight, usually just silly fights or small vows of silence that are eliminated at the end of the day with a warm hug and kisses with vows of love. Chan wasn't one to raise his voice and neither were you, but perhaps due to the stress of the day, this discussion became loud and noisy.

You just wanted to spend time with him, as you were busy with your work throughout the week and barely got to see each other, but he just tried to explain how much he needed to finish reviewing some tracks and that he was too tired to do that. You rebutted tiresome arguments until he simply exploded at you, "CAN YOU PLEASE LEAVE ME ALONE? SHIT! I just want you out of here, can't you see that I never wanted you here?" He shouted at you and you remained static in your place. Your eyes widen and you can't swallow the lump that forms in your throat. You couldn't speak, in pure shock and, as incredible as it may seem, he was no different. Regret and worry fill his chest in an overwhelming way instantly and he feels nothing short of guilty.

He opened his mouth, stammering failed attempts at an apology, his eyes glistening with tears that matched yours, that overflowed and ran down his face. Chan's heart sank as he realized that the cause behind your tears was him, wishing you would realize that he didn't really mean it. "...all good. I'll leave you alone, if that's what you want." You spoke softly, unable and tired of debating with him. "No- love…I'm sorry, I- that's not what I meant, please…" He whispered, trying to get to you, but it was too late. You were leaving his apartment with a broken heart and a new insecurity hanging over you, wondering if during your relationship he had thoughts like this, if he felt uncomfortable with your presence. It could have been a misunderstood mistake for Chan, words spoken without thinking that he bitterly regrets, but for you, it was a new milestone in your relationship.

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 ¡!

Your relationship from the outside has always seemed a little strange. Minho is not the type to show affection in public and loves to make jokes to annoy you, but you know he means nothing and you know he respects and loves you above all else, so you never really cared about it, always taking it in stride. However, this nagging side of him gains strength when it comes to arguments and you find it particularly irritating. He has a strong temper during fights, being stubborn in his ideas and opinions, making it impossible for you to reach an agreement. You don't fight often, but when it happens, it takes you days to resolve it, out of sheer stubbornness and pride on both sides.

The stray kids' comeback was just around the corner, less than a month away and everything was moving quickly. Minho, who has always been committed to his work, he was working hard this week and his mood was technically sensitive, so to speak. You, being a good and understanding girlfriend that you are, He thought about something throughout the week to try to alleviate some of his tension, usually affection placed on your private person made everything better.

When he didn't show up at the dinner you prepared especially for him, you tried to be understanding because you knew Minho's physical and mental exhaustion. It was almost midnight when he appeared tired and sullen. He had stated that he would arrive on time, so you asked him why he was late. You remained calm throughout the conversation, but when he said he preferred to go out to eat with the boys and forgot about you, you felt the burning start to rise in your throat, "Minho, I really don't understand you. I really tried hard to see the good in you and you just act dismissive like it's nothing, as if we were nothing…” the anger was evident in your voice, but you couldn’t fight back, and apparently neither could he. He sits on the living room couch, leaning with his elbows resting on his knees as he runs his hands over his face and hair. He stands up looking into your eyes and you could see a different glow in his eyes, he was exhausted and angry.

"IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF YOU'RE SO NEEDY! I'm tired of this, if you're going to be clingy like this, stay far away from me." Her eyes flutter unconsciously, your vision blurred by the tears that accumulate. You bite your lip in an attempt to contain them, you didn't want to cry in front of him. Minho clenches his fists as he slowly watches your reaction, scared of himself. He couldn't say anything, but you knew he wanted you to stay. He was sorry. You let out a shaky breath nodding your head, “right… whatever you want.” Minho felt helpless watching you forcefully close the door of a now cold and empty apartment, his absence making him feel incomplete. He wanted to apologize, but he couldn't find words in his mind, only the fear of losing you, because he knew it was all his fault. And you, the uncertain doubt as to whether this would be a lasting relationship.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐁𝐈𝐍 ¡!

You have been friends since you were very young, always supporting and helping each other and that was a good reason for you to almost never fight and if you do, They make up very quickly, reaching a consensus that they both made a mistake at some point. He was always very sweet, so usually he would apologize first, unsure that maybe you would abandon him and that hasn't changed since he asked you to be his girlfriend. And that fact scared you because of what happened. He was never really jealous, it was more like fear and insecurity, but you always assured him that you loved him and he always trusted you. But this time it was different and you didn't understand where it came from. You have been invited to an alumni reunion at your old school where you graduated from high school.

You met many old colleagues but there was one in particular that you both were somewhat uncomfortable with. The boy was an ex-boyfriend of his and tried to start a conversation with you. The atmosphere during the event got a little heavy when he clearly looked at you in a way that made you uncomfortable. At the end of it all, Changbin rushed you home and when they arrived you immediately questioned him, worried about his change in mood. Of course, you weren't stupid, you knew everything was involved in this specific situation, but you were still worried about whether he would be okay. You thought he was angry because the guy was clearly inconvenient, but when he confronted you asking why you were paying attention to him you were confused.

It was supposed to be just a conversation, but it all piled up and became a noisy mess. You didn't want to change, but he knew it was unfair for him to place non-existent blame on you and he wanted to defend himself. "Binnie, I don't understand what I did. I swear I-" 

"Don't you understand?" He interrupts you, anger overwhelming him and making his next words come out unconsciously, "YOU WERE CLEARLY HITTING ON HIM! I don't even know why I'm still wasting time being with you, honestly." Silence. You watch him in silence. You felt like you didn't need to say anything else because apparently everything that was stuck in your throats was carelessly deposited one above the other, weight forming on your back. Still scared by his response, you pick up your bag that was on the coffee table and quickly walk towards the entrance. You stop abruptly when you feel your wrist held by Changbin, strong but still light so you can let go. "My love, please- I, I don't know what came over me... forgive me but please don't go." Tears roll uncontrollably down Changbin's face and it makes his heart hurt even more, but you remember that he was the reason your heart was broken in the first place. "...I need to get away from you for today, Changbin." You go out. Now there were two hearts broken by an insecurity that unconsciously generated another.

𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐉𝐈𝐍 ¡!

Hyunjin is definitely a hopeless romantic, so it's almost impossible for you two to fight. Of course, there is no perfect relationship, but your fights, If you can call it that, they are small arguments over silly things and, if they fight over something serious, It's discredited in a short time since you can't stand being away from each other, especially if you're fighting. You've been together for almost a year, but even with this considerable passage of time, Hyunjin hasn't taken you to meet his parents. Of course, you didn't care so much, you knew and respected the limits imposed by Hyunjin, knowing that he just wanted to be sure if it was meant to be. But with your one year anniversary approaching, you couldn't help but feel a little insecure, naughty thoughts about herself invading her head like an avalanche of worries.

It was quite late when you were sitting in your room studying as usual. You were so immersed in your duty that you missed the sound of the front door. Not long later, you hear the clanking of dishes in the kitchen and notice Hyunjin's presence. Entering the kitchen, you watch him prepare some ramen for himself, a tired expression was visible on his face and sighs constantly left his lips. He looked exhausted and your heart squeezed seeing him like this. He doesn't seem to notice his presence, huffing impatiently at the water that was heating up. You surround him from behind, your arms hugging his waist and placing your head on his shoulder. He trembles a little from the fright, leaving it a little stiff. "Hey, my love. Relax, it's me." You laugh, patting his right shoulder.

"Sorry, I'm really tired today, y/n." He walks away to get the cutlery from the cabinet, you sigh, moving away to respect his space. "You know, Jinnie… I've been thinking and our anniversary is coming up, in less than a week." He looks at you for a few seconds, seeing where you're going and then goes back to what he's doing. Okay, his disdain brought a small pang to her heart. "And I thought maybe, just maybe, Can you take me to meet your parents." His voice was a little louder than a whisper and he stopped what he was doing. He ran his hand abruptly through his hair, looking at her with a different light in his eyes. "Look, I just want to eat this ramen and sleep, I don't have time to listen to that shit again." You were trying to be understanding, but you insisted. “I know, but- but I’m afraid you’re… ashamed of me. That's why I'm insisting on the matter. I know you're tired-"

"SO WHY DON'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE? If you're well aware that you're being a pain in the ass, just shut up and leave," he says all this with a humorless laugh on his lips, "Maybe I don't really want to take her to meet my parents, maybe this will make me rethink whether our relationship is really worth it." That was the last straw to spill the water in his cup of anxiety. You could no longer blame it on tiredness. You didn't mind crying in front of him, but you felt helpless. You take a step back, uselessly drying your tears. You go up and grab your bag quickly, heading towards the main door, not bothering to look back. Hyunjin pulls her towards him, lightly holding your arms and looking into your eyes. "My love, please, please don't, don't go! I was wrong, I- I really shouldn't have said that-"

"But you said it, and you can't take it back. I'm going to sleep at my friend's house. I want to get away from you as soon as possible." You cut him off, now you were the one who was tired. You hurt him too, but he cut you first and plunged the knife deep into the wound.

────────────────────────────────

𝗔/𝗡 - I'll be posting the maknae line soon! I confess that I didn't intend to write something long, but I really can't write something with less than 500 words 😭 I hope you liked it. Please don't forget to leave comments, I'm happy when I hear your opinion on my chapters ;) like × reblog!¡ original by:: @hyunjinners ^-^

[definitelynotafurinasimp]

If your not busy, I've been thinking that Fontaine announces a masquerade party, the Fontaine girls (Furina, Navia, Lynette, Clorinde) goes to the party. After enjoying the party, a random person with a mask (reader) invites them to the ballroom dance (can be a private or public area) and whilst dancing they engage on a small talk, it makes the girls wanting to know more about the person behind the mask. However, the reader has to bid them goodbye and kisses their hand leaving them alone. Maybe for part 2 the girls knows the reader's identity and maybe a hint of romance, who knows? ;)

Furina recognizing reader after a masked ball

characters: Furina x gn!reader

warnings: none

a/n: I am sorry for only writing Furina’s part, but it turned out relatively long (for my standards), so if I attempted to write 3 more parts I might actually take until the heatdeath of the universe. So I hope you forgive me. As to why I chose Furina?

...I hope that one is self-explanatory.

Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Furina

No matter how much one were to look around the room, it would have been near impossible to find anyone more excited about the ball than Furina herself. Even during the days when she had to play the role of Archon she had found herself genuinely enjoying the atmosphere they offered and getting to socialize while wearing a literal mask was an interesting change of pace .

That being said however, as Furina looked at the faces around her, some better obscured than others, she couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment welling up inside of her. Sure, while there were some people she had difficulties identifying, most of them felt at least familiar enough that she was certain she’d be able to recognize them if given more time to put the pieces together.

And then there was you, packing a voice she had never heard before and a face she had no idea where to start with. Were you new here? Or were you simply one of those souls that didn’t think too much of parties? Whatever the case, you caught her interest.

Before long, the two of you were using the justification of dancing to talk to each other, simple small-talk at first, only for the former Archon to start asking questions that would discreetly lure more information out of you before you even knew it. And yet with every question you answered, the puzzle pieces inside of her head seemed to fit together less and less. You didn’t own a bakery, but your brother did. You could seamlessly stitch up a hole on any piece of clothing in a matter of seconds. Your favorite color was red. You didn’t have any siblings. You get lightheaded when seeing blood. Where did that cut on your thumb come from? You were cutting an apple only for your knife to slip.

By all means, Furina was starting to think you were dodging her questions or simply amusing yourself by answering with random nonsense. And yet, whenever you weren’t, talking with you was surprisingly fun and your soothing voice made her feel at ease. 

Each new hint causing her to throw out her last theory and begin from scratch and before Furina realized it, this had become a matter of pride and honor. The idea of letting you leave when she still had no idea who you were irking her more with each sentence the two of you exchanged, especially considering how much fun she had talking with you.

“What is that even supposed to mean? Give me one more hint, that last one didn’t count”, Furina once again spoke up in the middle of your dance, demanding another hint that would make solving your case at least a little bit easier. The two you agreed to give her until now, opening up more questions than they answered, only for the former Archon to receive an amused grin in response, almost making her speak up again, only for you to go first.

“If you’re this interested in figuring out my identity I could just hand you my business card, but don’t you think not knowing who you’re dancing with makes the whole thing just so much more exciting?”, you asked, your smile never leaving your face once as Furina responded with silence, your point carrying far more truth than she liked to admit., only for her to be pulled out of her thoughts when she felt a cut on your left thumb, only for your hand to flinch away ever so slightly. And before she knew it, her mind was once again running wild, trying to come up with new theories.

“You’re an underworld criminal right? That’s why you don’t want to reveal your identity, because you’re scared of me”, she spitballed, hoping to at least throw you for a loop.

“So you’re someone criminals should be scared of?”, you asked in a joking manner, once again failing to even refute her accusation before eventually changing the subject to something more light-hearted.

And then, before Furina had even the chance to find out your name, the ball was over and you bid her farewell, kissing the back of her hand before vanishing into the crowd of people, never to be seen again.

Since that encounter, barely a day passed where she didn’t at least briefly think back to your conversation. Was it because she liked talking to you or simply because leaving the case unsolved left a bad taste in her mouth. And yet, there wasn’t much she could do, as even if she wanted to gather more clues there was simply nowhere for her to start.

Eventually, she gave up. Simply going on about her days as she slowly but surely left the incident behind.

…However many times she liked to tell herself that however, there were still times she got lost in thoughts thinking about it. Sometimes in private, other times, when she wasn’t as fortunate, in broad daylight. And while spacing out for a moment was nothing life-threatening in most cases, not paying attention to where one was going made bumping into something or someone almost inevitable.

“Ah, I’m sorry!” Furina heard a voice ring out as she fell onto the floor, having been ripped out of her daydream when she walked into someone only to be sent flying downwards, letting out a small yelp when once she made contact with the sidewalk.

“N-no, It was my fault”, the former Archon quickly responded, her usual charade nowhere to be seen as her cheeks turned red from embarrassment. 

Almost instinctively, she started looking around herself, only to find herself in front of a shop selling baked goods. There weren’t many people on the street, which made the fact that she managed to bump into one even more shameful, and when she finally did take a look at the person in front of her, she was met with a worried expression as they extended their left hand towards her, a broom with which they swept the street in front of the building occupying their other.

“Let me help you up”, they eventually stated, signaling towards their hand in a voice that left Furina wondering where she knew it from.

Without further hesitation, she took it.

“Tha-”

That scar on their thumb felt awfully familiar.

“AHA!” Furina screamed out, yanking herself up before striking an excited pose as her eyes widened, causing you to startle in the process.

“Is something wrong, Miss-”

“So you do own a bakery after all!”

[pluckyredhead]

The past few days I've been thinking a lot about the General Slocum disaster.

It's a mostly forgotten story now, but the General Slocum was a passenger steamboat that was used for excursion trips around New York during the turn of the 20th century. In 1904 it caught on fire and sank in the East River, and over a thousand people died (there were less than 1400 aboard to begin with). Most of them were women and children. They were on a church-sponsored picnic outing.

From top to bottom, the story of the General Slocum is about corporate greed, and corruption, and incompetence:

The fire was probably started by a match or cigarette (!) in the Lamp Room, which was full of straw, oily rags, and lamp oil (!).

A child told the captain that the ship was on fire, but the captain ignored him. The crew didn't properly inform the captain of the fire until ten minutes later.

The captain inexplicably made for North Brother Island, even though other islands were closer. Steering directly into headwinds spread the fire faster.

The crew hadn't practiced a fire drill in the past year.

None of the safety equipment on the ship worked, because the steamboat company found it cheaper to pay off safety inspectors than to keep their ships up to code.

There was a hose on board, but it was so old and rotten that it burst when the crew tried to hook it up. The crew then gave up trying to put out the fire or help anyone and abandoned ship.

The lifeboats were wired to the deck, and the wires had then been painted over, rather than removing the lifeboats each time the ship got a fresh coat of paint, so it they were impossible to lower.

The life preservers were filled with cork. They were supposed to weigh a certain amount, so the manufacturer had put lead bars in some of them to make weight.

Others were so old that the cork inside had disintegrated into powder. Solid cork floats. Powdered cork sinks.

That meant that some of the mothers who survived described putting life preservers on their babies and throwing them into the river to escape the flames, and watching them sink.

Very few people could swim at the time, and everyone was wearing the heavy wool clothing of the period. Hundreds of people drowned.

The disaster decimated the immigrant community of Little Germany on the Lower East Side, where most of the deceased were from. Fathers who hadn't been able to attend the picnic because they were working got home to find their wives and children were all dead. Dozens of bodies were either never found, or found but never identified.

Though multiple safety inspectors and employees of the steamboat company were indicted, only the captain - who very much became the scapegoat for the whole thing - was convicted. The steamboat company paid a nominal fine. The one silver lining was that state and federal safety regulations were strengthened in the aftermath.

Like I said at the beginning, this story is mostly forgotten. A lot of historians credit that to the Titanic upstaging it just a few years later. Adella Wotherspoon, who survived the General Slocum as a baby and lived until 2004 (!), said she knew why: "The Slocum people were very poor or middle class. They were often German immigrants. The Titanic and other ships had celebrities."

I don't really have a moral to this story, except that safety regulations matter, ships full of immigrants are just as important as ships full of rich people, and humans have pretty much always been the same, as far as I can tell.

(If you want to know more, I highly recommend Ship Ablaze: The Tragedy of the Steamboat General Slocum by Edward T. O'Donnell, the excellent Wikipedia page, and the Bowery Boys podcast episode on the disaster.)

[n3xii]

why do you feel stuck?

this spread is designed to help you identify why you are feeling stuck right now, as well as what you can do to get yourself unstuck. take a deep breath and choose an envelope from below

i also have personal readings available for an affordable price, check my pinned post for more information!!

Pile one-

your current situation: 8 of wands

i honestly think taking action is the biggest hurdle for you, taking the first step and actually taking action may feel bigger than the task itself. perhaps you may have just overcome some hurdles or blockages that might have previously been in the way, and now that the path is clear, it feels impossible to go forward. i also feel that this represents the momentum it takes to get something going, you may feel that your energy ebs and flows, perhaps motivation and passion are fleeting emotions that you cannot rely on to take action. this makes you feel stuck as a consequence.

what do you need to let go of in order to move ahead: the hanged man

ok, i feel like you're waiting for an external force to thrust you into action, you've taken the passive stance towards your own goals because you find it difficult to actually start. you're waiting for something else outside of you to give you the momentum, this could be another person you're waiting on, a sign, the feeling of motivation. but spirit is communicating that this passiveness is something you need to let go of. stop waiting for something else to spring you into action, the first step has to be done by yourself

message from spirit: boundaries

i think establishing some borders between yourself and what you will and will not tolerate is something that can actually help you become unstuck. this can be boundaries with other people, as well as boundaries with yourself, such as what behaviors and treatments you will tolerate towards yourself. people forget that the relationships they have with themselves need boundaries too.

Pile Two-

your current situation- seven of swords

the message im getting with this is self sabotage, you're in a situation where you are trudging upon your own steps forward by looking back, looking to other people, and looking everywhere but in the direction you're going. i feel like you could be comparing yourself to others, even comparing yourself to your past self as well. there may be somehting you feel you need to tuck away to the back of your mind because you perceived it as bad or undesirable.

what do you need to release in order to move ahead: nine of swords

so far im getting that this is an issue occurring mostly on the mental plane which one of the denser energies in someone's aura. this means your thoughts and words need to be something that you become more aware of so you can identify what exactly you are thinking about on a daily basis. journal, get a mood tracker and write your daily thoughts and feelings. become familiar with what you are saturating your mind with. this card tells me that you need to release overthinking, obsessions, and memories. specifically you need to release the recurring thoughts you have, the fears and paranoia that you may have that are causing you to self sabotage.

message from spirit: attraction

you are a powerful person and manifester, you could be spending more of your energy attracting what you want if you wanted to. now can be spent thinking about what you want to attract into your life and what you want to repel from it. your energy is precious, dont fuck with it. instead of comparing yourself or saturating your mind with obsessive, negative thoughts, direct your mental energy towards something that is positive.

Pile three-

your current situation: the star

the star conveys healing, hope, optimism, and a balance between both the physical and spiritual world. you're in a place where you may feel stuck, but you are actually just healing and recovering from something. the star comes after the tower in the tarot, which indicates the healing process after something major has been unraveled, you may feel like you are behind, or that you should be already healed, but let your spirit and body take the time it needs. you are healing from something, mental or physical at this time

what you need to release in order to move ahead: six of pentacles

i feel like you may have this lingering sensation and feeling that you owe other people something, that you aren't keeping your end of a bargain. this could be you feeling the need to maintain balance in a relationship, friendship, work partnerships etc. you may feel that you aren't being fair or balanced in those relationships but that is actually something you need to release. nothing is expected of you at this time, release the sensation that you need to make up for or do something in return.

message from spirit: power + 4 of pentacles

conserve your power, and know that you are powerful. dont expend energy you dont have right now, just hold onto it knowing that you have it. im also getting that ancestral work may be important right now. as you are healing, tapping into your ancestors and your lineage may give you the extra support and power supply that you need to recover. ancestors play an important role in supporting, when channeled you can rely on them to give you the energy and the momentum to support you on your healing energy.