#INSURANCE FOUGHT ME ON IT

[sunnys-side-upside-down]

T-TIME T-TIME T-TIME

[jamiebluewind]

I had a hemiplegic migraine yesterday which sometimes causes me to be really out of it and have a hard time communicating (or even knowing words for things like asking for pants and saying "leg sleeves" kind of bullshit). Sarah and Mom started talking because I was basically like trying to talk to someone drunk off their ass. I have NO CLUE what they were talking about because my brain was like a sieve and only caught the occasional word, but at one point mom used "her" to refer to me.

Now, I'm gender fluid and fine with any pronoun MOST OF THE TIME, but sometimes she/her feels icky. I don't know why. Ask my brain. So my faux drunk ass heard "her", pointed at mom like I was freaking Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney, and loudly declared "wrong!"

Cue two very confused people. Poor mom was scrambling trying to figure out WHICH PART of what she just said was wrong. Sarah meanwhile sat still for a bit before she popped up and said "their!" like she had figured out a word problem. Then it clicked for mom and they both shifted to using they/them for me.

Just to be clear, they see this very impaired person point and yell "wrong" with no context, figured out it was pronouns, and fixed the problem even though the person was completely out of it and probably wouldn't remember later.

I love my new family ♡

[whimsycore]

The way suffering from neglect fucks up your entire life and no one cares when you’re a kid or an adult. I have life lasting health, emotional, and physical issues from this. I have no one to go to and I can’t even leave because I can’t afford to. My mother literally called me her retirement plan a year ago and I cannot afford to move out despite working. I don’t see a way out of this.

[beauty-grace-outer-space]

I am gonna leave the worst fucking review for this doctor when all of this is settled and done.

[gamerwoman3d]

Personal in the tags.

[ghwosty]

seriously why do dentists be like this tho

I show up to my 10:20am appointment 10 minutes early just sit and wait in the chair for a whole ass hour after my initial appointment time it is literally 11:20 as I'm typing this and I've only been seen by the nurse that took me back to the room.... this is time theft, they are thieving my time

[zinniajones]

Text of thread at https://kolektiva.social/@zinnia/110418489814171631:

Yes - this is what is happening in Florida due to SB 254, which was signed into law on Tuesday 5/17/2023, taking immediate effect. This immediately cut off 80%+ of adult trans people in Florida from having their HRT refilled, because SB 254 uniquely prohibits only nurse practitioners from prescribing only gender-affirming medications.

This has already been in effect for 7 days now.

Trans adults in Florida have already been cut off from their HRT refills for a week now, including those of us who have been stable on these medications for years or decades.

This is VERY different from the general situation of trans youth care bans in 19 states, many still working their way through the courts.

This has *already* happened, to *all* of us: all trans adults in the third most populous state in the US.

The number of trans adults on HRT massively exceeds the sliver of the population that are under 18 and are prescribed puberty blockers or hormone therapy.

These laws, advanced under the pretext of 'protecting children', are now directly impacting a far larger group of people who are not children and are not subject to those pretextual concerns.

Other arguments about withholding public Medicaid funding for transition treatment also do not apply here: SB 254 does not even allow receiving this care through private insurance or paying cash out of pocket. The care isn't simply not covered - the care itself cannot be provided regardless.

What is happening in Florida requires special attention above the situation of trans youth care bans nationally. This is having a vastly larger impact quantifiably.

It will have worse impacts qualitatively as well: adults are responsible for taking care of and protecting trans kids and making sure they do not hurt themselves.

Whereas as a trans adult, we have no one standing guard at the brink but our own self and the void to which we are accountable.

These are the facts as they stand right now. These are the facts as they have stood for a WEEK and NO ONE nationally is putting any attention on this because there are 19 trans youth care bans all across the country going on, along with everything else targeting trans people and the LGBT community broadly.

This is a specific harm that is happening now and has been happening for 168 hours.

It is not a hypothetical issue to raise awareness of, as if it were at the stage of some proposal that needs to be fought back. This has already happened and is happening right now. Active harm is happening until this law is rolled back.

For all of Florida's history since the inception of the applicable regulatory and licensing bodies, nurse practitioners have been allowed to prescribe hormone therapy, testosterone blockers and other relevant gender-affirming medications.

That has been the case since I moved here in 2011. There was no reason why this wouldn't be the case. It's also the case in every other state.

This new law is a carveout of prescriptions when used for one purpose, gender-affirming care, from nurse practitioners specifically, in a way that has never been done before. It affects all ages.

It has immediately obstructed access to HRT prescription refills for more than 80% of TRANS ADULTS in Florida.

It has also prohibited first appointments for HRT via telehealth with in-state or out-of-state MDs or DOs - first appointments must be in person. This will require expensive and time-consuming travel that is beyond most trans people's means: driving to Georgia from Florida can take 8 hours.

This was an intentional targeting of almost all trans adults in Florida, and the means by which we have received our generic, FDA-approved medications for years. And it included closing every possible door that would let us find another way to keep taking the medications we have taken for...

Well, for me it was 3,891 days when the clock stopped

[dollya-robinprotector]

what’s it like living in vietnam?

In one word: Peaceful

I'm a history enthusiast, and it might seem obvious, but I love my country so much. We have a relatively widespread nationwide education system, reasonable education and health support policies, an affordable insurance system, and a government that advocates peace and encourages ethnic diversity and religion… Material prices are relatively low, it's easy to live, and jobs are hard to find everywhere, but unemployment and homelessness are not widespread.

I understand that our current peace was won by the blood of our ancestors. The red flag with the yellow star reminds me every day. Therefore, I appreciate my current life even more.

All in all, I can't ask for more.

Quite coincidentally, I was listening to a video about the war period in the years after 1945 while drawing, an interview with a famous doctor during the resistance period. Lately, whenever I feel lost and have lost the purpose of my work, I find and review historical documents again. Perhaps finding and affirming my roots and heroic past makes me feel less uncertain. Like "Yo my ancestors fought so hard back in the day, I'm their descendant I must learn from them!!" or something like that hehe

[seat-safety-switch]

There was simply no way we were going to get out of this one alive. Biscotti Alfresco, Italy's number-one pastry chef and number-two assassin, was hot on our heels. It had been so long on the run, that I could barely remember what started this whole thing. Had something to do with pizza, I told my taxi driver, who was too busy trying to run over every moped and scooter in Rome to listen to my story.

In case nobody has ever told you, let me be the first. It is incredibly difficult to enjoy your family vacation when a trained killer stalks you across the entire country. A couple times now, he's gotten close. We were hanging out at the Trevi Fountain when a little old lady in the crowd threw a knife at us. You guessed it: just a normal person angry at our abuse of their cultural norms, but it could have been Biscotti.

Really, the prudent thing to do would be just to leave the country. That's what the embassy told us to do, right before Mr. Alfresco burst in through the window and fought a bunch of security guards. This kind of advice does make sense, but our plane tickets are not refundable and our travel insurance explicitly does not cover "incensing a trained assassin by disrespecting a national dish," which makes me wonder how often this kind of thing happens. Right there in the fine print. I felt like such a dumbass for not noticing it before.

We've only got about seven more days in the country. Even with the extra stress, we're having a lot of fun. I'm pretty sure that by wearing disguises, changing up our train reservations at the last moment, and never going anywhere near a pizzeria for the rest of our lives, we'll be fine. Hey, who are you anyway? Why are you wearing that crazy mask?

[deliciousangelfestival]

Nothing Has Changed - 15

Summary: Returning home for peace, you're faced with your tormentor, Bucky Barnes, who is now involved in your family's business.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Warning: Angst, Tragedy.

Author Note: From the last poll, the series that you want to see updated is this one. I hope you enjoy this update.

Nothing Has Changed - Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to anyone who gave a like, reblog, and left a comment. It motivated me to write more. 💖💖💖

“Just like your father. Dishonest to the core,” Lydia sneered, her eyes narrowing as she glared at Bucky.

He exhaled sharply, folding his arms. “How could he ever marry you? And how did I end up with a mother like you?”

Without warning, Lydia snatched up the magazine and flung it at him. Bucky moved effortlessly, dodging the flying object with ease. “You threw me in jail, and now you disrespect me? I can’t believe this is my life,” she spat, her voice seething with resentment.

Bucky sighed, but there was no sympathy in his eyes. He walked over to the coffee table and sat down on the edge, directly facing her. His movements were calm, controlled, but Lydia could sense something had shifted in her son—something dangerous.

He raised three fingers slowly, holding them in front of her. “Three times,” he said coldly, his voice steady and low. “If you push me past three, I’ll send you back to jail. And from what I hear, the food there does wonders for your diet.”

Lydia’s face twisted with rage, her jaw clenched so tight that her teeth ground together. She stood abruptly, practically trembling with fury, but she said nothing. Instead, she shot him a glare, turned on her heel, and stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing loudly as she left.

Bucky watched her go, his jaw tense, his hands tightening into fists. The room was quiet again, but inside, his thoughts were turbulent. How did it come to this? How did everything get so twisted?

For years, he had been blind—blind to the lies, the manipulation, the way his mother had used him as a pawn in her schemes. He had fought to protect her, fought for a family that had never truly existed. Now, he saw her clearly, and the bitter truth burned like acid in his veins.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

The situation in your house wasn’t much better. Despite Tom’s insistence that he was fine, you could still see the tension in his eyes, the way his hands fidgeted, unable to relax. His panic lingered beneath the surface, though he kept trying to mask it with forced smiles and shallow breaths.

Then your phone rang. The screen lit up with a name—Alan, Harlan’s oncologist. You took a steadying breath before answering.

"Hello, I’m sorry I just saw your text," Alan's voice crackled through.

“It’s alright, I know you’re busy,” you replied, trying to keep your voice calm even though your mind was racing.

“That’s true, I barely get enough sleep. I’m really sorry about your father,” Alan offered.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “Did you see the photo I sent?”

“I did. From the photo alone, I can’t tell exactly what’s in the pill. But one thing did catch my attention,” Alan said, his tone shifting slightly.

Your grip on the phone tightened. “The doctor’s name?”

“Yes,” Alan confirmed. “Tony Stark. I’m really surprised he’s practicing again, considering everything.”

Your heart began to pound, a sudden unease creeping in. “What did Tony do?”

Alan sighed on the other end. “He’s been involved in some serious controversies. He offered treatments to patients who didn’t need them—overcharging, committing insurance fraud, manipulating patients for financial gain.”

Tony Stark? You felt a chill run down your spine. You glanced toward your father’s bedroom, your thoughts spiraling. Could Tom have been misdiagnosed?

“Alan, what if my father’s been misdiagnosed?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“If I were you, I’d get a second opinion immediately,” Alan advised, his tone firm. “Come to my clinic anytime. I’ll personally check on your father, and bring his medication with you.”

You exhaled in relief, trying to steady your shaking hands. “Thank you, Alan. I really appreciate it.”

He chuckled lightly. “It’s my pleasure. After all, you and Harlan helped grow my portfolio quite a bit.”

You forced a smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks again. Would tomorrow work?”

“Of course. Anytime,” Alan replied before you both wrapped up the call.

Quietly, you moved toward your father’s bedroom door. You eased it open just a crack, peeking inside. There was Tom, frail and fragile, a shadow of the man you once knew. Is this really cancer, or has he been subjected to unnecessary treatment? The question hung heavy in your mind, twisting your stomach.

The next morning, you stood by the car, loading a suitcase into the trunk. The air was tense, and Tom, leaning against the doorframe of the house, still looked uncertain. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearly hesitant.

“Daughter,” he started, his voice wavering. “Our doctor is good. He has so many certificates and awards…”

You gently led him toward the passenger seat, your hand firm but comforting on his shoulder. “Having certificates and awards doesn’t mean the diagnosis and treatment are 100% right, Dad. If that were all it took to be a doctor, everyone would be cured,” you said softly but firmly.

Tom sighed, unable to argue. He nodded and got into the car, his hands fumbling with the seatbelt. It dawned on him then that this was the first time he’d ever been in your car, the first road trip he’d ever taken with you.

After making sure everything was packed and ready, you moved toward the driver’s seat. Just as you reached for the door handle, a familiar sound caught your attention—the low hum of a car engine. You turned to see Bucky’s car pulling up to the driveway. He parked hastily and stepped out quickly, his face a mixture of curiosity and concern.

“Where are you going?” he asked, his gaze flickering between you and your father.

You didn’t meet his eyes, not wanting to reveal the real reason. “Just a road trip,” you said with a casual shrug. “I realized I never had that moment with my father.”

Bucky studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. But then he nodded. “Alright. Safe trip, guys,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ll take care of the house while you’re gone.”

“Thank you,” you responded, offering him a small, appreciative smile before slipping into the driver’s seat.

As you drove away, you glanced in the rearview mirror. Bucky stood there, watching your car disappear down the road, his figure growing smaller in the distance. There was something in his eyes—something he wasn’t saying. You couldn’t quite place it, but it lingered in your thoughts as you drove farther from the house, from him.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

You and Tom entered the clinic, immediately struck by how different it was from the small-town hospital you were used to. The walls were pristine, the furniture modern and sleek, and the air felt fresher, almost too clean. Tom's eyes darted around, taking it all in.

“This place looks expensive,” he muttered under his breath, clearly uneasy.

Without looking up from the magazine you were idly flipping through, you gave a small smile. “It is. This doctor has treated presidents, actresses, athletes. He’s the best we’ve got,” you said casually, letting that sink in.

Tom’s eyes widened a bit at the thought. He glanced at you, as if seeing you in a new light. You had really gotten far since leaving that small town—much further than he’d realized.

Moments later, a nurse walked into the waiting area with a clipboard in hand. "Tom L/N?" she called, scanning the room.

Tom stiffened, his grip tightening on the arm of his chair. He shot you a quick, uncertain glance, and you gave him a reassuring nod. Slowly, he stood, and the two of you followed the nurse down the hallway.

When you stepped into the examination room, a tall man with kind, tired eyes and graying hair stood to greet you both. His demeanor was professional but friendly.

“Tom, Y/N, good to meet you,” Alan said warmly, offering a handshake to both of you. “I’ve heard a bit about your situation.”

Tom shook his hand, though his movements were stiff. “Likewise,” Tom muttered, still unsure of the whole process.

Alan motioned for Tom to sit on the examination table. "Let's take a look," he said, adjusting his stethoscope and carefully examining Tom. His hands were gentle but thorough as he checked Tom's vitals. “You’re quite underweight,” Alan noted with a concerned frown, pulling back to look at Tom. “We need to work on building your strength up. It’s critical.”

Tom forced a weak smile, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. He shifted in his seat, his eyes darting away as he spoke. “Yeah, well… haven’t had much of an appetite lately.” He hadn’t expected this doctor to be concerned about his weight; Alan was different from Tony.

Alan paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he took in Tom's condition. He placed a hand on Tom’s shoulder, his tone growing serious. “We’re going to do some tests—a scan, maybe a biopsy, to see what’s really going on. You’ll need to stay here for a while so we can monitor you.”

Tom looked uneasy, shifting on the examination table. He shrugged, then pointed toward you. “She’s in charge of all that. I trust her judgment.”

You smiled back at him, though your mind was racing. “Whatever you think is best, Doctor. We just want to get to the bottom of this.”

Alan nodded approvingly. “Good. I’ll have the nurse set everything up. In the meantime, we’ll make sure Tom gets the nutrition he needs.”

As the nurse came to escort Tom to the next room, you stayed behind with Alan. The atmosphere between you shifted immediately, the conversation taking on a more serious tone. You reached into your bag and handed Alan the collection of medication bottles your father had been taking.

Alan’s brows furrowed as he sifted through them, clearly surprised. "All of these?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you replied, your voice low, a tightness in your chest. You’d had the same reaction the first time you saw the sheer number of pills.

Alan shook his head in disbelief, turning a bottle over in his hands. “This is way too much for anyone to be on,” he muttered. “I’ll send these to the lab for analysis. We need to know exactly what he’s been taking.”

You swallowed hard, nodding. "I don’t trust his diagnosis anymore, Doctor. What if… what if he’s been misdiagnosed?"

Alan looked at you seriously, setting the bottles down. “It’s possible. With the medications he’s been prescribed, there are a lot of red flags. Especially with what you mentioned about Dr. Stark.”

Your pulse quickened at the mention of that name. "If there's any chance my father’s been given something unnecessary… or worse, something harmful, I need to know."

“We’ll find out soon,” Alan reassured you, his voice steady. “But in the meantime, we’re going to focus on getting Tom back to a healthy place. He’s too frail right now, and we need to get him stabilized.”

You nodded, feeling a knot of anxiety loosening slightly. "So, what's the next step?"

"Tom will need to stay here for observation. We’ll run a few more tests and adjust his diet to get him stronger. You can visit him anytime, but don’t forget to take care of yourself too," Alan said, giving you a kind but pointed look.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

Later, after Tom was settled in and you knew he was in good hands, you found yourself wandering through the bustling city streets. The towering buildings and fast pace of city life made you feel small, but your mind kept drifting back to the clinic.

It's only been a few months, but already the city felt different. New cafés and restaurants had popped up, their signs gleaming with fresh paint. The pace of change was unsettling, and as you walked, memories of a quieter, more familiar place tugged at your thoughts.

Suddenly, you remembered the art gallery that had hired Steve. It wasn’t far from where you were, so you hailed a taxi, the ride feeling both quick and too slow as your mind wandered. Steve had always found solace in his art—maybe seeing his work would bring you some peace too.

When you arrived at the gallery, the soft hum of conversation and the faint smell of paint welcomed you. You moved through the exhibits, eyes catching on familiar brushstrokes. There it was—Steve’s painting. You paused, staring at the delicate lines, the vibrant colors. It felt like him, a piece of him still lingering on the canvas.

As you stood there, lost in thought, the gallery owner approached with a friendly smile. "Enjoying the collection?" they asked, their tone polite but cautious.

You nodded, still admiring Steve's work. "Yes, especially this one. Steve Rogers—he's incredible."

The gallery owner’s expression faltered, their eyes darkening with something you couldn’t quite place. "I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this… Steve was in an accident."

The world seemed to slow, your breath catching in your throat. “What?” you managed, voice barely above a whisper.

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[jasmines-library]

This might be a weird request, but can you take your favorite song and make a batfam story with it? I saw the “Kristy, Are You Doing Okay?” fic and immediately folded I loved it so much <3 <3 <3

The Ghost of You.

YES YES YES! It's really hard for me to just pick one song, but this came to mind so i thought i'd give it a go. Also this probably wasn't what you were after anon, so i'm sorry. You're all going to hate me after this :(

Summary: After your death, the batfam struggle to navigate their lives without you.

Warnings: This fic deals with death (mildly graphic) and the aftermath, contains suicidal thoughts, grief, unhealthy ways of processing grief and some other heavy content so please be advised.

Word Count: 2k

⛤ BATFAM MASTERLIST ⛤

I never said I'd lie and wait forever

If I died, we'd be together

I can't always just forget her

But she could try

Tim was the first to arrive too late.

Your body had already careened over to the side, collapsing into a puddle of your own blood. Tim faltered as he made his way over to you, gawping at the arrows that protruded gruesomely from your stomach, your shoulder and the back of your knee. That was what had taken you down: a well placed shot to the back of the joint. The other two followed as insurance. To ensure that you would bleed out. 

And even though Tim was right there, he faltered. Even though he could see the way your chest spluttered as you fought for air, he couldn’t bring himself to move. His hands shook. His lips trembled. And if anyone was focusing hard enough they would have been able to see the glint as water collected in his eyes. 

Then came Jason, grappling down from the building. He had heard it before he saw it. Grimacing at the way your cry was followed by two more, he was gripped tight by a fit of rage. Mercilessly he took out the two crooks in front of him so he could dash to your side. He should have been helping Nightwing and Batman, but at that moment all he could focus on was your safety. 

He managed to gather himself up enough to try and press around the arrows, but your blood pooled through the fabric of your suit and your breathing had slowed to nearly nothing. Tim had finally got himself to move and he was sure that he heard someone call your name. Though he couldn’t remember if it was himself or Jason. Either way he too pressed down harshly around the arrow to try and staunch the blood flow. And it should have hurt. God, you should have been thrashing and screaming. But you just lay there, spluttering as you faded. Tim didn’t know what was worse; but he came to the conclusion that the sound of your agonised scream was better than waiting in this near listless silence. 

“Just hold on, Raven.” Jason. But you would have never guessed it from the way his normally firm voice wavered. “We’re going to get you to help…j-just a little longer. 

Then you moved. Your hands shifted to lay atop of theirs and you strained your head to see them. Tim’s stomach dropped as you looked at him with your hooded eyes and small smile. A gesture of consolidation. You were trying to tell them that it was okay. It made Tim want to hurl. How could you be thinking of them in a time like this?

 “Y/N..?” Tim muttered. He should have used your vigilante name. He didn’t care. 

“s’okay” you slurred as your eyes fluttered at him. You could no longer make out much as your vision became a blur of colour. Jason palled at the sight of the crimson that stained your teeth as a sickening contrast to the paleness of your skin. He wanted to look anywhere else, like to Dick and Damian who were still trying to take down the criminals who just wouldn’t quit, but he couldn’t tear his eyes off of your face. 

“S’gonna b-be ok..” 

“No…” Tim was crying now. They both were. Neither made any effort to try and hide it.

“P-promise you won’t do…any’thn stupid-” you mumbled.

Tim brushed his thumb over your hand. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to but he would. For you. “I promise…”

You wanted to turn your attention to Jason, but your eyes fluttered and you could feel your strength fading.

“ Love you…” Then, your chest rose… and fell as you took your final breath. 

~

At the end of the world or the last thing I see

You are never coming home, never coming home

Could I? Should I?

And all the things that you never ever told me

And all the smiles that are ever gonna haunt me

The manor was silent. Deathly silent.

And even though the manor was the busiest it had been for a while it still seemed so empty. It was almost like the minute that your heart stopped pumping, so did all of the life in the manor. 

Dick hardly slept. He spent his nights staring blankly at the ceiling, letting his thoughts carry him away because if he didn’t his mind would torture him with pictures of you. He had thought about it. He had thought about it a lot actually. Especially after he had seen your body being lowered into the ground sealing you into nothingness. You were gone.

Dick remembered Jason and Tim uttering something about promising not to do anything stupid. But he wasn’t sure. They didn’t talk much anymore. He thinks he remembered them saying that they had promised you. But he hadn’t. And so the thought crossed his mind often. If he was only brave enough to do it. Oh, what he would jive to see even just a ghost of one of your charismatic grins again. Or to hear your laughter as you sang to your music poorly in your room across the hall. You often used to keep the door open, just a crack as a form of comfort blanket and that let your voice carry through the hall. But now the door was firmly closed. 

Pull yourself together. Dick blinked away the film that formed in his eyes. Though no tears fell; he had cried himself dry a long time ago. You wouldn’t want this. Dick had tried to tell himself. But it seemed everything he did reminded him of you. Reminded him how he was never going to see you again. And it hurt. You were still so young. You had your entire life ahead of you to live and Dick yeared to have seen it. But it was ripped away from you cruelly like candy from a child.

Ever get the feeling that you're never all alone?

And I remember now

Your bloodstained face was burned permanently into Tim’s mind. It was there every time his eyes drifted closed. 

Each time he finally got himself to sleep, there you were. Crying out his name. 

He should have been quicker. Tim scolded himself often for this. He thought that his fumble could have been the difference between you living and dying. But of course, he had frozen. His body had refused to function no matter how much his brain screamed at him to just move! But he was frozen. He remembered watching fearfully as Jason, who was much further away, dropped to his feet from above and tried feebly to help. If only he had been just that little bit quicker. If only he had been paying attention then you wouldn’t have gotten hurt in the first place. 

He was sitting in the batcave, staring blankly at the monitors. Not because he wanted to but because someone had to. Though him being there wouldn’t have made much difference. All of the shapes on the screen had blurred into one colour. 

Tim had never felt more lonely sitting in the plush chair because usually you would be there with him. Cracking a joke or two, or reminding him he needed to go to sleep with a gentle touch on the shoulder or his hand. Sometimes Tim thought he could still feel it. A phantom pain: like when someone loses a limb. 

You had become such an important part of his daily life that his body yeared for your touch or the sound of your voice. He yearned for the warmth of your fingers, but then remembered that the last time he felt them, they were ice cold and covered in your own blood. 

At the top of my lungs in my arms, she dies

She dies.

Jason was angry. He had never handled his grief well, even from a young age. And his coping mechanisms were far from healthy. Whilst his brothers spent their time reserved to themselves, Jason was searching for revenge. But he had promised you he wouldn’t do anything stupid. 

So he found his solitude in a punching bag. 

Your scream piercing through the air. A punch to the bag so hard that it swung violently on its bolt. 

The feeling of your blood trickling around his fingers. A right hook.

Your cold and clammy skin against his as he removed his gloves to trail his hands along your face. Another. 

Your last words falling from your tongue. Punch. 

Your chest rising as you spluttered. Punch. punch.

Your last exhale. Punchpunchpuch.

He kept going until his knuckles were a mangled and bloody mess and he felt like his jaw might snap from how much he had been clenching it. 

Jason didn’t bother to wrap his knuckles as he trudged towards the shower, despite how much they burnt and throbbed. But for some sick reason he couldn’t wrap his mind around, he savoured it. Almost as a punishment for not being able to save you. 

When he slipped into the shower, he still couldn’t stop the flood of images ricocheting around his head like a broken record that still somehow managed to play no matter how scratched up it was. He thought he might have found some solace in the feeling of the water trickling over his skin, but all he found was his mind confusing it for the feeling of your blood on his skin. 

Jason let out a cry of anguish, bringing his fists to clench at his hair as he sank to the floor and began to cry. 

And all the wounds that are ever gonna scar me

For all the ghosts that are never gonna catch me

If I fall, if I fall down

Damian had seen a lot of death in his life. That came as part of being a human weapon. But no death tore him up as much as yours.

He would forever remember the cold that gripped him when he saw Jason with your body in his arms. He had never felt so empty as Bruce tried to pull him away. Damian had fought against him, nearly clawing at his father to try and get to you, but Bruce just held him close and pressed Damians face into his chest to shield him from the horrors in front of him. But it was too late. He had already seen your mangled body and he couldn’t help the way his body trembled as he clung to Bruce like a scared little child. 

And Damian would never admit it, but he was scared. 

Scared of how everything would play out now that you were gone. Scared that you were angry at him for being so far away. Scared that because he wasn’t there when it mattered most, that it might happen again. 

He should have been there. Damian cursed to himself. 

He had been on the other side of the building trying to deal with the last of the crooks. Dick was with him for a time, but had finished up much earlier than Damian and had fled as soon as possible. Damian should have picked up then that something was wrong. 

But he didn’t.

And he was so frustrated with himself for not. He should have been better. Should have taken the criminal down with one blow and followed his brother to your side. Surely with all four of them there, you would have made it… right?

He wasn’t so sure. 

He wasn’t sure of much anymore. No one was. And they all felt so betrayed because you being by their sides was one of the things that kept them going everyday. And now…

One thing they did know for certain though was that you were gone. And no matter how much they yearned for you, you were never coming home.

🦇 BATFAM TAGLIST:

@aestheticdaisies

@hell-o-kittys

@mamapucket

@xxrougefangxx

@hearts4robs

(I'm sorry.)

[woodsdyke]

so my dad's car insurance called me today and was like hey we're trying to get a hold of this dude and found your name and thought y'all might be related (i have an incredibly uncommon surname). so I was like yeah that's my dad. can you tell me what he did this time

and i could tell she wasn't supposed to tell me, but heard the absolute exasperation in my voice and just knew i was his child. she described that there was "a fender bender, and an altercation, in a restaurant parking lot" and that his lawyer was trying to get a hold of him to tell him his court summons had been waived

my parents own a restaurant so I figured it was their parking lot but upon asking my mom i have learned

it was a burger king parking lot. he physically fought a guy in a rural pennsylvania burger king parking lot. love and light ☀️

[lexkent]

Why Lionel Luthor is the True Villain of Smallville:

Threatened to expose Clark's fake adoption records unless Jonathan Kent persuaded Pete Ross’s family to sell their factory to him.

Kidnapped Clark and put him in a vat of kryptonite solution to be studied in an attempt to discover his secrets.

Kept Clark trapped in a cage made of kryptonite in a separate incident.

Impregnated his dying wife's nurse while he was in a position of power over her as her boss, denied he was responsible, and had her locked away in a psychiatric ward for 7 years after taking her baby away from her. Lionel insured the child, Lucas, remained in poverty in the foster care system and prevented him from ever being adopted.

Forced the second woman he impregnated while married to Lillian, while in a position of power over her as her boss, to give their child to an orphanage where she was tortured. He soon found another home for Tess where she grew up in poverty and extreme physical abuse.

Forced his wife to have another baby despite her objections and was then dismissive of her postpartum depression. "I told you I didn't want any more children. I see how you treat Alexander, chipping away at his spirit."

Found a child, Davis Bloome, in a cornfield and believing him to be The Traveler, ran experiments on the boy until he realized he wasn't who he wanted and proceeded to dump him off alone on a dark Metropolis street.

Created a clone from a dead little girl, Emily Dinsmore, and locked her away in a lab, refusing to let her father ever see her again. "You can't take her away from me. She's my daughter." "She's the property of Luthorcorp."

Was such a terrible father to Lex that Lillian Luthor killed her infant son to spare him from the cruel and twisted parenting Lex endured from Lionel. Was such a horrible husband to Lillan that Lex took the blame for his baby brother's death knowing Lionel would have murdered her in retaliation.

Lied and told Lex that Lucas died in infancy, like Julian, knowing how much it would hurt Lex to hear.

Paid someone to kill Lucas once he became a potential threat to his power. Clark stopped the bullets, and Lionel had the shooter killed in police custody before he could talk.

Forced Lex's mother figure, Pamela Jenkins, out of Lex's life following the death of Lex's mother because he didn't want her to make Lex soft. Convinced Lex that Pamela never loved him and was only ever interested in their money. 

Blew up Chloe and Gabe Sullivan's safehouse in an attempt to kill them and prevent her from testifying against him at his murder trial. Hired a mutant hitman to kidnap and kill Chloe after she escaped the explosion.

Had Oliver Queen's parents killed in a plane crash leaving him orphaned at the age of 5.

Ordered the murder of Andrea Rojas’s mother who was an activist who worked for an organization that fought back against gangs, dealers, and large business corporations. In addition to losing her mother, Andrea was stabbed in the heart during the attack.

Resurrected a teenager, Adam Knight, to get close to Lana Lang and spy on Clark Kent. When Adam failed to retrieve useful information, Lionel refused to give him any more of the serum he required to stay live. As a result, Adam suffered immensely before dying of organ failure.

Resurrected Vince Davis who lived for a short, painful period of time before his body deteriorated without access to Lionel's serum.

Poisoned Lex with a lethal dosage that would've killed 99.9% of people.

Told Lex he loved him in prison only to persuade him into accepting his hand so he could use a Kryptonian stone to body swap them, leaving Lex to rot and die in prison in his place while Lionel escaped with Lex's body. Instead, Clark intervened and Lionel escaped inside of Clark's body, leaving Clark trapped to die in prison. Shortly after the bodyswap occured, Lionel looked down the front inside of his(Clark's) waistband while smiling to himself. While in Clark Kent's body, Lionel initiated a hug with Martha Kent where he was turned on to the point of shooting heat vision from his eyes. Lionel-in-Clark's body flirted with Chloe, a teenager, and was centimeters away from kissing her. And when Lionel-in-Clark's body encountered Lana, a teenager, he said to her, "A man would travel around the world to pluck your succulent fruit," and forced a kiss onto her, smiling to himself after she slapped him and ran away. Lionel proceeded to attack Lex, choking him, slamming his head against a desk, and demanding 57 million dollars using Clark's super strength. He then went to the Kent Farm and threw Jonathan across the room into the kitchen cabinets. Lionel told Clark he would murder Lex if he didn't cooperate with his demands.

Pretended to be blind. "Playing the handicapped card is low, even for you." "But I was able to see more clearly than ever. It's amazing what people try and get away with right in front of your eyes when they think you can't see."

Fired 2,500 Smallville citizens to force his son back under his control. When Lex attempted to organize an employee buyout of the factory, Lionel bought the Smallville Savings and Loan and threatened to foreclose on every employee's mortgage. When Lex continued to organize and fight to save everyone's jobs, Lionel threatened, "I'll bury you and everyone in Smallville who takes your side."

Blackmailed Smallville sheriff Ethan Millar into digging up dirt on every Lexcorp shareholder(Smallville factory workers), so Lionel could blackmail each one into selling their shares to him in order to take over Lex's fledgling company. In addition, Lionel threatened to expose the sheriff if he didn't do him various favors.

Once again tried blackmailing Jonathan Kent leading to a physical altercation between the two. Lionel fled the scene as Jonathan suffered a fatal heart attack.

Installed hidden cameras and microphones throughout Lex's office, so he could sabotage him and steal his business deals.

Took over Lex's company, which Lex had invested everything he had into, leaving him with nothing and immediately kicking him out of his home.

Insisted an ill-advised, life-threatening surgery be performed on Lex after he had been shot and wasn't stable enough for further surgery, making it clear he'd prefer a dead son over a physically disabled one.

Set Lex up for the murders of Dr. Teng and her entire team at Metron Labs after Lex refused to work for him.

Had sex with Lex's lover, Victoria Hardwick, while they were still sleeping together. 

Hired Dr. Helen Bryce to seduce and spy on Lex for him. Helen later attempted to murder Lex on their honeymoon.

Gave Martha Kent a watch engraved, "To Martha, with deep affection. L.L." while she was his employee and happily married to Jonathan Kent.

Refused to come clean about his past sexual involvement with Rachel Dunleavy and the existence of their son, Lucas, despite Lex being held hostage and his survival depending on Lionel telling the truth.

Refused to come clean about Level 3 when it would have saved the lives of a group of teenagers and his own son. 

Ignored and denied any care to his employee, Earl Jenkins, who was poisoned by kryptonite on the job which led to uncontrollable, dangerous seizures.

Created a deadly fear toxin for the military that leaked into Smallville.

Drugged, gaslit, attacked, and framed his son, orchestrating a scenario where everyone would believe Lex to be crazy after Lex discovered Lionel had his parents murdered for insurance money. Lionel had Lex committed to Belle Reve Sanitarium where he had Lex further drugged and put through electroshock therapy, forcing 600 volts of electricity through Lex's brain. When the doctor insisted they pause the procedure for Lex's safety, Lionel ignored the warning and demanded they continue. This brain frying could have easily destroyed Lex's mind, as it did for others who endured it, and ultimately wiped away months of Lex's memories, allowing Lionel to be off the hook for his parent's murders. Everyone involved in Lionel's plot, all loose ends, met untimely deaths.

Threatened, manipulated, controlled, hyper criticized, denied affection, and lied to Lex constantly. Lionel mentally, emotionally, and physically abused his child throughout his entire life, raising him to become a monster and then denying any accountability for what Lex became in the end.

This list is far from complete, so feel free to add more!

[auspicioustidings]

Ae Fond Kiss - Part 4

A Prayer in the Prospect of Death

Summary: The years pass and you find out how Simon feels about you before a familiar face arrives. Words: 2.8k

Parts: 1 2 3 4 5

��Tell me luv.”

Simon had his fingers tucked under your chin to tilt your head up so you could no longer easily hide. Urgh he was so bloody perceptive. 

“It’s silly.”

“You’re always silly, now tell me.”

You fought the urge to blow a raspberry at him. He was truly the most stubbornly protective human you had ever met and he never just let things go if you said it was fine. He always knew when something was bothering you despite your attempts to hide it. 

“What am I supposed to do when Joey starts nursery?”

You sighed and dropped any attempt to hide how miserable the thought made you. When you and Johnny had gotten married you had decided that you’d be a stay at home mum. You didn’t have a career you were attached to and Johnny made enough to support the household. Honestly you had come to enjoy it in the last year. You decorated your home for every holiday, experimented in the kitchen until you were actually a very good home cook and baker, always felt safe and content with how well you knew your own space and how cosy and clean you kept it. 

It was never how you imagined yourself if you were honest, a homemaker. The idea of you actually sort of enjoying cleaning would have made you feel somewhat ill 5 years ago. But now you were in your own home with a toddler you loved to death and, though you often were reluctant to admit it out loud, a man you loved to death. You had been front and centre for all of Joey’s firsts and you wouldn’t trade that for anything. 

Simon missed his first steps. Johnny had been fine doing video calls while he was on base during off hours, but you didn’t even have the number of Simon’s work phone. It used to frustrate you that it felt like he didn’t even exist the moment he left for work, but he had spoken about his family on your first Christmas together and it made you understand. He would never carry anything on him as the Ghost that could link back to you, even in the relative safety of the base during downtime. 

Now Joey would be out of the house for most of the day. You could have waited, not sent him to nursery and just kept him home until school, but you knew it would be for your sake rather than his. He loved being around other kids and some of the friends he had made from you taking him to every toddler group in the area in an attempt to be a good mother would be starting nursery as well. 

Could you just do nothing all day? Between Johnny’s insurance and death in service benefits and Simon insisting on funnelling money in, you could certainly afford it now, but it felt so wrong when Johnny was dead and Simon was doing the exact job that had killed him.

“What do you mean? You do the same as you do right now if you’re still happy doing it but without him.”

“Lounge around and do nothing while you are out risking your life you mean.”

Simon considered, always careful to think the situation through rather than reply impulsively. He was annoyed with himself for not seeing sooner that you were undervaluing yourself, only considering taking care of Joey which was a full time job in itself as contributing. While it had been a source of bitter guilt in the beginning, he had started to forget how much younger you were than him. He really should have seen it, no woman in her early 20s saw her full worth. 

“Princess, you decorated this whole house while I was deployed and you’re the one that fixes things or organises for them to be fixed when they break. You cook almost all our meals from scratch and then make extra to donate to the community kitchen. The garden is immaculate because you follow the planting plan you made yourself and are out there doing maintenance every day. You do not now nor have you ever lounged about doing nothing, even if I would like it if you did.”

He already felt bad enough about it. When he was home he threw himself in, tried to take as much off of you as possible even when he was nowhere near as fast or good at things. If anything he was contributing nowhere near enough money to cover all the full time jobs you were gracefully juggling (only because it had already been a fight to accept any money at all, he gave you what you accepted and then put almost the rest of his pay into an account for Joey).

“Shut up!” you whined, battering fists against his chest as your face flamed. 

You had lived together now for just around 3 years. You had been intimately involved for 2. It still absolutely floored you when he was nice to you and made butterflies erupt in your stomach. It was so ridiculous to feel like some wide eyed teen with a crush when it came to this idiot. Unfortunately his favourite hobby was fucking with you when you were taken off guard like this.

“Aww baby girl, you know how much I appreciate everything you do for me and Joe don’t you? We’d fall apart without you beautiful” he said in a smooth rumble, peppering kisses across your cheeks and down your neck. 

It wasn’t fair that he could just tease you with a version of him that adored you. A version that you enjoyed even if you didn’t really think it was real. Sure there had been a maybe ‘I love you’ years ago after all that sexual tension broke and he seemed to be happy enough, but you could only imagine that if he ever knew how you felt about him he would run. The last 3 years you had fought at every turn to protect your heart, but you had stopped denying at least to yourself that it was pathetically his now.  

“Don’t do that.”

“You don’t want praise and kisses?”

He raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a small smile. You loved praised and kisses, he knew that because in the bedroom he could use that to turn you into a pile of obedient princess who did whatever he said if it would earn you his adulation. But it was just sex wasn’t it? 

“I don’t want you to pretend.”

He was confused by that and you wanted to sink into the floor to avoid this conversation. You had been avoiding it for a while now. 

“I… fuck. Simon, I don’t- it’s not just sex to me” you choked out, not sure how to put it into words without straight out admitting that you were hopelessly in love with him and wanted him in you and J’s lives permanently. 

“Christ, you pretty little idiot” he growled, grabbing your face roughly in his hands. “I love you. I am in love with you. I’m not Johnny, I don’t do big romantic gestures. I’m not the kind of man to tell you all the time how I feel. I’m the kind of man who is a selfish bastard because I don’t give a fuck if you deserve someone who does. You are mine. You have been for years. Do you understand me?”

You could only blink wide-eyed as your brain tried to catch up with the whole world restarting itself after the shock.  

“Do you understand me?” he snapped. 

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl… wanna get married?”

You stuttered out an outraged shout, feeling the tears that had been building drying up at the audacity of this man. 

“Johnny took me to the cabin. He made me a replica of the first dinner we had together and set the table outside during the sunset. He organised for fireworks!”

“Told you I don’t do romantic gestures.”

“Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Fine, let’s get married Casper. You’re the fucking worst.”

“Don’t I know it princess. I’m not wearing a tie.”

“Then I’m not wearing a dress.”

“Yes you bloody well are!”

“Wanna bet?!”

-

He did not wear a tie, but Joey did. Your dress was beautiful. Gaz officiated your wedding for the second time. Price said there was an emergency so he couldn’t make it - you weren’t really sure you believed him.

-

As you cleared up after the whirlwind that was breakfast in a house with a 9 year old late for school, you sighed and stuck on a heat patch. You were starting to wonder if being off birth control was maybe a little pointless because in the past 18 months it had only reminded you how much you hated periods after years of them being gone as a useful side effect.

It had been something you were speaking about since you got married. You had always wanted more kids. Simon had never even expected he’d have one. You were terrified of a repeat of your first pregnancy, he was terrified that his genes were poisonous. You had enough money with his hefty pay and your small business (you had started it up soon after Joey had started nursery and you got a lot of orders for events, birthdays and weddings for sets of biscuits. You imagined wherever Johnny was he was howling with laughter that you had turned into a home baker after all the kitchen disasters he had seen). 

In the end it had been Joseph who made the decision. One shrugged mention of how he thought it’d be nice to have a little sibling and that was that. There was not one thing in the whole wide world you and Simon would not give him if it was in your power. Although you were starting to think it wasn’t in your power at all. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t have an active sex life and in honesty it had only gotten more active from the breeding kink Simon had uncovered as soon as it was a possibility. But it just hadn’t happened. 

You wondered if it was better that it hadn’t, at least until Joey was 10. That was when you had agreed you would tell him everything. On advice of a psychologist you had told him that Simon wasn’t his biological father very early on, as early as he could understand the concept, although stressed he was still his dad. The only thing you mentioned about his biological father was that he had died even though that was very much against the psychologists advice, she had said to tell him everything about Johnny.

But in 4 months he would turn 10 and he knew that you would answer his questions then. It was shitty of the two of you really, to hide Johnny until now. Joey’s grandmother still saw him, but she never talked about her son or who he was. It was cowardice. Simon had been speaking with a therapist for years about how to let go of the idea that Johnny died because he couldn’t save him. You felt ill at the idea of your son knowing you had married his dead father’s best friend. Both of you were so scared of Johnny’s ghost that you kept him from his son for nearly a decade. 

Well sort of. Joey knew who Johnny was, just not that he was his father. There were photos of him in the house. Whenever Gaz, Price and their partner (that had been a whole drama, but you were happy the three of them finally worked it out) were around, sometimes they would reminisce about him. Well Gaz and Simon did, Price would just look pained and excuse himself to get a drink.

You could only hope that Joey wouldn’t hate you, but then he was such a great kid. A little wild, but incredibly kind and empathetic beyond his years. He had Johnny’s eyes. You thought that he’d understand when you explained it all. Maybe he’d yell at you for thinking he would blame you for falling in love with his dad, but he’d understand. 

You focused on cleaning up and getting the kitchen back clean and cosy how you liked it, deciding not to borrow worries from the future.

–

Price had told him to settle his arse down in the base and let him travel down and talk to him before he went anywhere. Johnny ignored him. He had just saved the fucking world, there was not one thing that was going to keep him from his wife and child one second longer.

He had debriefed already, been medically cleared to leave. He knew the paperwork was going to be horrendous given that he was legally dead, but frankly he’d leave it for the intelligence agencies to deal with given how much of a big bloody favour he had just done them. He got your address off of them given that Price hadn’t given it to him, just telling him to wait until he got there. Fuck that.

It didn’t take too long to get himself there. It was oddly comforting hearing all the English accents after a decade of hearing almost entirely Russian even if he’d be moving your pretty arse back North of the border as soon as he could. Not a chance was his family living in Carlisle. He wondered why you would move that far from the Highlands where his family was. You had always been no contact with your own family, maybe you had reconciled with them and moved to be closer? 

He would find out. Whatever it was he’d support you. God he loved you, he had missed you so fucking much. He had imagined the reunion for years, thought of your smile and your laugh when he needed to remind himself what he was fighting for, thought of your soft skin and tight pussy when he needed to relieve some tension with his right hand. Whenever he sent up a prayer in the prospect of death, it was for you that he prayed he would survive.

He thought of how he’d hold you for days when he got back. He knew you would have raised a wonderful son and he could not wait to meet the person he had become. He’d hold him as well, spend days cuddled up and watching movies with his family. 

And then he’d take you to the cabin and lose himself in your body. Fuck it was strange to think he’d have to consider it wasn’t just you two anymore. He didn’t want to lose any time with his son, but he needed alone time with you as well. He’d work it out. 

The house was nice, sort of quaint with the pretty flowers both real and painted on the door. It hurt knowing if he hadn’t been away you’d have something bigger. You would have had to for a growing family. 

He wished he had stopped and gotten a change of clothes and a haircut. He was in military issued sweats and a hoodie and his hair had grown out to curl around his ears. He really should have shaved as well, a task he hadn’t had time for in the chaos of the last few months. But fuck it, he was here and he couldn’t wait. 

It was almost like an out of body experience knocking on the door, knowing he was seconds away from you. He should have realised that there was another person around who could answer the door, but he hadn’t been thinking. The Joseph he knew was a tiny baby, not a bright eyed kid with a toothy grin in a football strip (a bloody Man U strip at that, Johnny just knew his uncle Simon would have had a hand in that and it made him grin knowing his best friend was still in his son’s life).

“Ye got big!” he belted, excited beyond proper introductions at seeing his son. 

The kid furrowed his brows for a moment before he brightened with recognition. Johnny assumed now was about the time for crying and yelling and hugging. He was unprepared for the alternative. 

“I know you! You’re dad’s Sergeant! I thought you died.”

His heart lurched, putting the dots together well before his brain could. 

“Joe hurry it up! We’ll miss kick-off!”

Johnny knew that voice. It was not yours. 

“I’m ready!”

“You better be! Right, who’s at the door then?”

The voice got closer and even though he wanted to run Johnny was rooted to the spot. It felt like the next 10 seconds as the footsteps and voice came closer was hours. The door swung wider open as a hand pulled on it from behind and then he was looking into the eyes of Simon Riley. The silence was deafening until Johnny broke it.

“What the fuck did you do Si!”

[dailyrothko]

Scans ( a little long)

When I ask people not to steal my scans I assure you it has nothing to do with my ego. I have relationships with a number of people that trust me to provide full credits and copyrights and supervise, as much as possible, how things are used. And it gets a little complex, like some people will give me a photo I can only use on instagram. I have to honor these agreements.

And, Rothko paintings are copyrighted so, unlike some artists, if you make tee shirts or use it in a movie or something , it's actually illegal (without permission) They are not going to come after you for casual use of you own, but I know of many examples where people were hit with a copyright notice for trying to profit in the work.

It took me a long time to build these relationships and get all of these scans, including many i have done myself. I gave myself this Rothko job I do, and because of that I didn't have background to give me things or answer questions. It was only after years of doing it that people started to reach out to me in a bigger way and help.

The art world is strange, I was talking to a museum curator recently and there several questions I had that I was told they were not at liberty to answer. In the case of Rothko, there's nothing really cloak and dagger about it, it's just the family (who I think are great) fought really hard for these rights and spend a lot of time trying to control how the work is used and seen. It's a good thing because we get things like the Paris exhibit which took an insane amount of planning, loans, insurance etc. All the paintings had to be inspected before they were shipped over seas, in case damage was done to them over there. These paintings are BIG and in the hands of many different people, so it really took tons of effort and (sadly) money to do it, but it's something like (can't recall exactly) 179 paintings. The biggest Rothko show since 1978.

People on tumblr do sometimes (as we all know) take stuff from here or from my other social media accounts and I know it's typical social media behavior, as people like the credit and notes to their own blog, but I mention this now because I have some things coming up that almost no one has ever seen and I don't want to lose this privilege because I won't be able to show you cool stuff and big scans.

So, sorry for the ponderousness, I just thought a little background might explain that I'm not just being grumpy about it. I think people may see it as "It's the internet get over yourself" but I honestly feel a responsibility to do the best I can for people following these accounts and I am just trying to keep doing it and hopefully, expand as I go.

This blog started on out tumblr and it was the support of all of you that made me continue it, I will be 10 years in July. I can't take a lot of credit for it, it's not my art. My only idea was the once a day aspect. However, I try to do my homework and striving for accuracy is part of that, including copyrights and credits.

So thanks for everything too, people participating in this has been very valuable and educational for me.

[catboybiologist]

Hey, I'm a lawyer and transmasc, and I wanted to give a thought on your stockpile posts.

You're right in that they're not going to outlaw HRT - more cis people take HRT than trans people by far. What the feds are going to do under the new administration is roll back federal protections against discirimination for sexuality/gender, which won't change much for most of us - when the feds roll back those protections, that leaves room for states to fill those gaps. So I encourage young trans people to become involved in local politics, that will have the greatest impact on quality of life.

I don't think it's worth telling people to stockpile something like HRT when nothing has happened yet. It scares people, and honestly, there isn't much to be scared about. In the grand scheme of things, life is not going to change much for a lot of us.

I both agree and disagree with this.

Yeah, it's not gonna change for a lot of us. There will be little to no permanent bans or consequences.

But you should know better than me that this wasn't because the admin didn't try. It was because people fought. And oftentimes, whole those fights were being won, there were a whole lot of confused government agencies that didn't quite know what to do.

Remember the travel bans? Overturned in the end because of the work of the ACLU, of course. But people were still illegally detained in airports in the meantime.

What happens in between the times those federal protections for trans people are rolled back, and state regulations take over? Where's the guarantee of state regulations taking over? What happens if the FDA is gutted, or insurance loses oversight, or the supply side of medication is restricted?

None of these situations result in a complete loss in HRT access. But they do result in more logistical complications obtaining it. I have ADHD, this has already happened before with stimulants- political and logistical whims causing shortages.

The biggest thing that Trump round 1 left behind wasn't specific bans, laws or persecution. It was disorganized chaos. Federal organizations gutted, regulatory agencies that received

As I've stated many, many times. I'm not telling people to prep the rest of their lives on HRT via doomsday level stockpiling. I'm telling them to have a couple extra doses to smoothen things out if something in the short term happens.

As for scaring people... They're already scared. I hope what I'm doing is telling people that they can do something about it.