#and at that point you become prescriptive

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

so agatha didnt let alice do that curse protection spell on her, right? she was just like keep playing. do you think thats bc she was like 'i dont know what Deaths Knife is gonna do specifically but i doubt im ever gonna be rid of her if i get fucking enchanted with it'

[bearofohu]

my favorite fact about the layton games that most people dont realize is that even though hershel is the protagonist every game is through luke’s POV

[anotherpapercut]

people acting like there isn't still very much an active stigma against cannibas and cannibas users is going to be my joker origin story

when i go to the doctor they still put cannibas use under the tab "substance abuse". not even just substance use. it is fully assumed that people who use cannabis, even as a prescription medication, are abusing it. just because you're friends with a couple of dumbass stoners doesn't mean that we've abandoned the idea as a culture that weed is a bad and scary and dangerous and highly addictive drug that will ruin your life if you use it once

[catboybiologist]

“As a biologist, the terms biological woman and man don’t make any sense to me” okay then you’re an idiot and a terrible biologist. I swear to god, morons like you only become biologists just so you can hold it over others, when in reality, if biology deniers like you can become biologists, then being one really doesn’t mean much anyway. But this probably just gave an autogynophile like you a boner to read, anyway.

Oh fun! Haven't gotten one of these in a while. Disregarding the fact that you somehow think the qualification for being a biologist entirely hinges on defining womanhood, I do need to ask some clarification. I know I'm feeding the trolls here, but here we go: does your definition of "biological woman" mean:

Sociological woman? Eh, context dependent, I'm not fully out of the closet, but oftentimes, I am and present femme. So let's call that one 50/50.

Psychological woman? Because I am one.

Neurological woman? Because I am one [1].

Physical woman? My soft tissue redistribution is handling that well.

Hormonal woman? My blood tests are within cis female ranges.

Transcriptional woman? As a signalling molecule, the downstream effects of estrogen have broad transcriptional effects, completely changing the profile of gene expression and functional genomics of my cells. [2]

Genetic woman? I mean, see my above point- as far as my genes that are actually active, I have all of the same transcripts being produced, controlling which genes are expressed.

Karyotypic woman? I actually have a few signs pre-HRT that might point to a non-XY chromosome pair, but I haven't had a karyotype. We'll put that down as unknown. And hell, even if its XY, there's plenty of cis women who are karyotypically XY, with suppressed sry or complete androgen insensitivity. Interestingly enough, a completely androgen insesitive woman can go her whole life without knowing- and functionally, is very similar to a trans woman, actually. Fancy that. [3]

Reproductive woman? I can't produce an egg cell, but neither can significant fractions of cis women. Also, this is all gonna change soon, which is fun. [4]

There's also a lot of understudied aspects to the biology of HRT and even pre-HRT that are emerging, largely demonstrating widespread cellular and genetic remodeling of trans individuals undergoing hormone therapy. The field is a bit behind due to constant political pressure to revoke funding, but a lot of the results are extremely exciting in both testosterone and estrogen hormone therapies. I'm sure that, as a self professed biology As someone who presumably has a lot of expertise in biology, I'm assuming that you're aware of all of this cutting edge research, and are keeping up with modern papers, including but not limited to these cool findings:

Trans men on HRT exhibit significant genetic and transcriptional changes that make them biochemically male. [5][6]. It's a good hypothesis that the same happens with estrogen treatment, but those studies don't exist yet- I'm sure you're reserving judgment until more publications exist, of course.

Trans men on HRT develop male cell types and tissues. [7]

Trans women experience muscular and blood cell changes that align with cis women moreso than cis men [8]

And many, many more! This is an exciting, underserved, and groundbreaking field of research, and I'm sure you're keeping up with the latest in scientific journals about it.

I'm sure, of course, that you understand that it becomes impossible to draw a distinct line anywhere in here, and that words like "woman" are shorthand for the myriad of traits that invisibly synthesize in our mind and in society to represent a concept? I'm sure you understand that science is fundamentally descriptive, not prescriptive? I'm sure that you understand that these findings, while really cool and interesting, actually don't mean jack shit about what the word "woman" means or not?

As someone who is the ultimate decider in what a biologist is, I'm sure you know that bioessentiallism is a childish mindset that completely ignores and disregards the constantly changing, dynamic nature of biological systems, something that extends well beyond biological sex and its relation to gender.

I'm sure that also, that you understand that beyond just this, that the role of science in society is to advise how to achieve our moral principles, not create moral principles in themselves. And I'm sure that understanding means you know that trans affirming healthcare and supportive societal treatment leads to reduced mortality and increased happiness for everyone, right?

So great to talk to someone who is surely a scientist on this. You are a biologist, if you're talking like this, I assume? I assume you're not going to spit complete misreadings of scientific language from the background sections of these papers that only reveal you've never read a scientific paper in your life if you're thinking this way? I assume you have experience interpreting data like this?

Also, imagining my genitalia while writing this? Ew. Please stop projecting your fetishes into my inbox.

Works cited:

Kurth F, Gaser C, Sánchez FJ, Luders E. Brain Sex in Transgender Women Is Shifted towards Gender Identity. J Clin Med. 2022 Mar 13;11(6):1582. doi: 10.3390/jcm11061582. PMID: 35329908; PMCID: PMC8955456.

Fuentes N, Silveyra P. Estrogen receptor signaling mechanisms. Adv Protein Chem Struct Biol. 2019;116:135-170. doi: 10.1016/bs.apcsb.2019.01.001. Epub 2019 Feb 4. PMID: 31036290; PMCID: PMC6533072.

Gottlieb B, Trifiro MA. Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome. 1999 Mar 24 [Updated 2017 May 11]. In: Adam MP, Feldman J, Mirzaa GM, et al., editors. GeneReviews® [Internet]. Seattle (WA): University of Washington, Seattle; 1993-2024. Available from: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/books/NBK1429/

Murakami, K., Hamazaki, N., Hamada, N. et al. Generation of functional oocytes from male mice in vitro. Nature 615, 900–906 (2023). https://doi.org/10.1038/s41586-023-05834-x

Pallotti F, Senofonte G, Konstantinidou F, Di Chiano S, Faja F, Rizzo F, Cargnelutti F, Krausz C, Paoli D, Lenzi A, Stuppia L, Gatta V, Lombardo F. Epigenetic Effects of Gender-Affirming Hormone Treatment: A Pilot Study of the ESR2 Promoter's Methylation in AFAB People. Biomedicines. 2022 Feb 16;10(2):459. doi: 10.3390/biomedicines10020459. PMID: 35203670; PMCID: PMC8962414.

Florian Raths, Mehran Karimzadeh, Nathan Ing, Andrew Martinez, Yoona Yang, Ying Qu, Tian-Yu Lee, Brianna Mulligan, Suzanne Devkota, Wayne T. Tilley, Theresa E. Hickey, Bo Wang, Armando E. Giuliano, Shikha Bose, Hani Goodarzi, Edward C. Ray, Xiaojiang Cui, Simon R.V. Knott, The molecular consequences of androgen activity in the human breast, Cell Genomics, Volume 3, Issue 3, 2023, 100272, ISSN 2666-979X, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.xgen.2023.100272. (https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S2666979X23000320)

Xu R, Diamond DA, Borer JG, Estrada C, Yu R, Anderson WJ, Vargas SO. Prostatic metaplasia of the vagina in transmasculine individuals. World J Urol. 2022 Mar;40(3):849-855. doi: 10.1007/s00345-021-03907-y. Epub 2022 Jan 16. PMID: 35034167.

Harper J, O'Donnell E, Sorouri Khorashad B, McDermott H, Witcomb GL. How does hormone transition in transgender women change body composition, muscle strength and haemoglobin? Systematic review with a focus on the implications for sport participation. Br J Sports Med. 2021 Aug;55(15):865-872. doi: 10.1136/bjsports-2020-103106. Epub 2021 Mar 1. PMID: 33648944; PMCID: PMC8311086.

[nymphoniah]

come undone | logan howlett

paring: old man!logan x younger!reader

AN: i can't stop thinking about old man!logan guys, i think its turning into a problem um... but here's a quick drabble about you being needy, and him being the gruffy old man he is, you decide to take matters into your own hands <3

content/tags: NSFW, minors DNI (18+ only), old man!logan, explicit age gap (reader is in their 20's), logan spoils his girl, thigh riding, daddy kink, swearing, pet names

you find logan resting in his office, seated on his leather arm chair. his white button up is messily undone, revealing his worn out beater underneath. his chest hair peeking through the shallow neckline of the shirt, leaving your mind to wonder about.

he catches your gaze and flashes you a smile, "c'mon doll, sit in your old man's lap", he coos, signaling you to come over with his middle and pointer finger.

and how could you ever say no to logan?

you couldn’t help but approach him. curling up in logan’s lap, you rest your head against his broad chest. your fingers gently rubbing against his ribbed tank top that fits snug against him. his body isn’t what it once was before, but he still remains defined and muscular, filling the tank top perfectly.

logan’s salt-and-pepper beard tickles your rose tinted cheeks as you litter his face in kisses. you can’t help but take in his beauty, every wrinkle, scar, age spot; for him being over 200, he absolutely aged like wine.

moving your fingers from his chest to the shell of his ears, you swiftly remove his prescription glasses from his face. you press your lips gently against the crow’s feet that defined his tired eyes, making him crack a tiny smile.

“you’re so handsome, logan.” you sigh, placing his glasses onto the side table placed on his right. you rest your head back on his chest, taking a deep sigh. the scent of his cologne floods your senses, bourbon and vanilla.

you shift around, straddling yourself onto his left thigh. your legs wrapped around him like a vice whilst your core pulses for attention against his tense quad.

“looks like someone’s needy,” he teases, placing his firm hands on your hips, gently guiding you back and forth against him. “cmon baby, take it out on me.” you gently rock your hips, keeping a slow and steady pace.

with his old age, he’s lost his stamina for sure, but he always has the energy for you. making sure that you get off, anytime and anywhere. you’re his princess, and he always makes sure to spoil his sweet little girl.

your hips rock in tandem against his thigh as he rhythmically bounces his leg to match your pace. you mewl in pleasure, tilting your head back as ecstasy fills your mind.

logan places gentle, sloppy kisses against your neck, making sure to pay close attention to your pulse point. he’s nipping at the soft skin of your neck, concentrating on one area enough to leave a maroon bruise the next day.

both of your movements become more erratic. as your pace quickens, his hands move to your chest, groping your breasts, thumbs nimbly working at your buds, rolling and gently tugging on them.

you hiss out in pleasure, teetering on the edge of pain and pleasure. “so close…” you whimper, biting your bottom lip tightly to alleviate the growing tension in your stomach.

“let it out darlin', i know you can do it for me,” he grunts into your neck, his hands finding their way back to your hips, pushing you harder down onto him.

absolutely soaking through your panties, you can feel the patch of wetness you left on his light washed denim jeans. you’re faltering on the edge, not wanting to let yourself go so soon.

“c'mon, i know you want this princess," he murmurs into the shell of your ear, nibbling at your earlobe.

"let go for your daddy,” he groans as he pushes your hips down, forcing you to grind harder against him. logan utters a string of sweet nothings in your ear, ending with a you can do it darlin', and you finally tick.

you wrap your arms around his neck, bringing him closer to you, your pants becoming more and more exhausted. your hips thrust forward and hard around him one last time, and the knot in your stomach finally snaps.

“f-fuck logan, fuck!” you whine, your combined moans filling his office.

you gently pull away from him, pressing your forehead against his, your lust blown pupils meeting his stern gaze.

“yknow how to rile me up,” he says cheekily, gently molding your ass between his fingertips. “almost got me to come in my pants like a teenager,” logan snarkily adds.

“shut it old man,” you quipped, taking his glasses from the side table and placing them back on him so that they sit on the edge of his nose bridge. you press a quick kiss to his lips which soon formed into a smirk.

logan looks up at you through his glasses, hanging on the curve of his nose— a perfect sight you can never get enough of.

“now let me show you what this old man can do…”, he murmurs against your lips.

[transandrobroism]

notes/replies on that last post (about Florida moving to ban all HRT for adults) suggest it was struck down by a judge, which is a relief obviously. but i do wanna pick up on the response being "set up DIY networks for HRT! organise and help each other!" which is cool and all but... as the latest reblog comment points out, T is a controlled drug.

some quick and dirty googling confirms testosterone is a Schedule III controlled drug in the USA, with most legal sources suggesting possession and/or distribution of Schedule III drugs is a 3rd degree felony. conviction can mean up to five years in prison and a $5,000 fine. crucially, in Florida (where this law was intended to come into force), selling or distributing a Schedule III drug to minors pushes it up to a 2nd degree felony with a harsher fine/sentence.

i make this point because the response to HRT being restricted is often some variation of "mutual aid DIY network" or just flat suggesting DIY to people as the solution. which is cool if you're on estrogen, but possessing testosterone without a prescription is a literal felony in the USA. T is also a controlled drug in the UK, where trans people face long waiting lists for HRT - it's not illegal to possess T for personal use, but it is illegal to get them sent to you from abroad (importing a controlled drug) and to give them to other people (supply). to legally get T you need a prescription from a doctor.

in a hostile transphobic environment there is no guarantee that prosecuters will decide not to charge trans people for DIYing HRT. "set up DIY networks" for transmascs basically translates to "set up an illegal drug ring".

this is a form of transphobia that affects transmascs but does not affect transfems. it also affects nonbinary and intersex folks seeking or using testosterone HRT. in fact it could potentially impact some nonbinary trans folks worse because the medical gatekeeping around trying to transition as nonbinary is already an uphill struggle.

it is not easy for those of us on T to just DIY it and fuck the system. without a valid prescription our HRT becomes a banned illegal steroid that can land us in serious legal trouble if we get caught, especially if we're distributing it to other people as part of a mutual aid setup. i know we're all very "be gay do crime" for the memes but we are talking about an actual factual go-to-jail-irl crime here.

the fact that our HRT is an illegal drug unless prescribed by a doctor is a form of transandrophobia that affects trans men, transmascs, nonbinary people on masculinising HRT, and intersex people who want or need testosterone. it means that:

we cannot DIY transition without committing a crime, and have to weigh up that risk when considering DIY as an option

setting up a mutual aid testosterone DIY network is even more of a crime, especially if you want to use it to help trans teens

we are thus more dependent on placating medical practitioners and convincing them to prescribe us HRT

we will always be more impacted by any moves to restrict or delay access to HRT because we don't have an easy, legal DIY option

when access to HRT is limited for transphobic reasons, the DIY option comes at much higher risk

where access to HRT is severely delayed (as it is in the UK by years-long waiting lists), it is easier for transfems to start DIYing while they wait than it is for transmascs to do the same thing. in fact in the UK they've started selling estrogen HRT over the counter for menopause, so here if you want to start estrogen DIY all you have to do is get a cis lady friend to ask a pharmacist for menopause treatments. if you wanna start T you have to go on the fucking dark web (I'm exaggerating but... not a lot)

none of this is intended to suggest that transfems don't experience medical transphobia or gatekeeping and this isn't a "trans men have it worse universally across the board" post. there are undoubtedly some areas where it's harder to be transfem. however, this is one area where it is clearly and demonstrably harder to be a trans man. i am pointing this out because i keep seeing people saying that transmascs have it easier or there's no systemic or structural transphobia targeting trans men or we only ever experience misdirected misogyny or whatever. here is your proof that that is not true. this is a form of structural and systemic transphobia that impacts trans men and not trans women. and there is no possible world in which you can argue that testosterone being a controlled drug is somehow misogyny.

[emacrow]

"Danny... you need to go to Frostbite now because something is wrong with your obsession.." by the creator/ema crow pt 1

The hissing began sounding like iron dragging on a chalkboard.

Jazz said, sighing at her half brother who held the 27th child he had in his arms, looking at her like she about to steal his otherworldly possession. She counted how many kids there were in the apartment before finding danny trying to put the kids to sleep.

Go to Gotham collage for space engineering he said, he'll be fine with his Protect/space obsession on being on prescripted medicine from Frostbite because having duel obsessions tend to go haywire in Gotham city and Clockwork warned Danny several times to take them on Time.

Six months in Gotham, and she visited him to see his apartment becoming an enforcement of an apartment full of liminals and children that Danny had rescued and kept in his haunt for 'safety'

Jazz doesn't wanna ask about the girl in the black Bat costume, missing a shoe, half limping/sneaking out the window as she pinches between her eyebrows.

Jazz knew something was up after danny stopped visiting Amity Park two months ago to the point that Tucker and Sam got concerned with the lack of texts responded.

The image of danny looking more like a giant elderitch spider banshee with 6 very long arms, 8 slit eyes spread across his body with a large mid section with sleeping three toddler strapped in over stretched baby sling, a couple kids giggling quietly and peeking their head out of from inside the overgrown long half black molding into silverly mane

At least this is a mild inconvenience than that one and last time watching that holocaust documentary nearly took 3 months and half to control without the constant overprotective, baby and fenton proofing everything in the Amity Park to the point of nearly mauling the undead out of Skulker after a few bad sentences spoken.

"Danny"

More hissing, and silent creeping backwards.

"Danny, you can't keep these children in here, didn't Pandora tell you that over obsessing could lead to imbalance again." Jazz said holding her hands up in a surrender way to show now fenton weapons in her hands.

Jazz had to think because this might take a while with the way Danny was throwing a fit..

How bad was gotham for danny to start kidnapping/rescuing children and babies?

Part 2 link here <-

[stollengoods]

Let’s Get Wild

REQ. Tha-gyu x Reader Smut

Warnings: Cursing, drug use, and threesome/lots a smut (like someone needs to take my phone away from me cuz this was filthy bitch haha)

Summary: Your dumbass friends take Viagra.

————

Most people would think a single woman renting out a home with two men as your roomates would be a cause for concern. Especially if those same roomates, did all kinds of random substances on the daily but to you they were harmless goofballs; they could be dumb and annoying at times but harmless non-the-less.

You guys met at the club, Nam-gyu worked there as a manager, Thanos was a famous rapper so he was there almost every weekend, and you used to work there as a dancer until you finished college and went on to become a nurse.

You’re shift usually ends at 11 PM and you would get home around 11:30 - 11:45 PM. Most of the time you would get home before the boys because the club didn’t close until 2 AM, but sometimes your job would ask you to stay for a few more hours and you would for the extra pay.

Tonight was one of those nights, you texted the boys in the the group chat not to worry if they didn’t see you at the house because you probably weren’t going to be home until later.

On the way home they decided to stop at McDonalds and buy dinner for everyone. They wanted to surprise you and also knew that you most likely weren’t eating enough as you should for how hard you work.

When they got home, they set the food and drinks on the table. They didn’t know exactly how long you would be, but typically when your boss asked you to stay an extra few hours you got home no later than 3 AM.

They went into the fenced off backyard to smoke some weed before coming inside. They both sat down at the table engulfing their food in minutes.

Thanos burped, leaning back in his chair, “Alright, what do you got for us tonight ?”

Nam-gyu smirked pulling out an orange prescription bottle from his coat pocket.

“I pickpocketed this old fucker.” He said, shaking the bottle and listened to the sound of rattling pills.

Thanos made a face, “Why an old guy ? He’s probably got heart issues and shit. No way he’s taking anything fun.”

Nam-gyu shook his head, the corner of his eyes red due to the marijana they smoked earlier. “No dude, I specifically picked him because he was dressed like a rockstar and plus you should’ve seen all the woman he was picking up, that dude was a chick magnet ! Whatever he’s on I want.” Nam-gyu pointed his thumb to himself at the last statement before opening the pill bottle and shaking one out onto his hand.

“What even is it ?” Thanos asked, his eyebrows raised in curiosity now.

Nam-gyu handed Thanos the bottle, “That’s the thing, the labels kind of worn out, so I can’t really tell.”

Thanos inspected the bottle label closely but ultimately shook his head, “Yeah I can’t make it out either.”

He fished a pill out of the bottle and pinched it between his fingers looking at the front and back of the pill. “It doesn’t look familiar.”

Nam-gyu bit his lip in excitement, “I know, im telling you dude I’ve got a good feeling about this one.”

Thanos smiled, “Alright, down the hatch it goes.” He slipped the pill into his mouth, Nam-gyu following suit as they both swallowed it in sync.

————

“Dude, it’s been almost an hour and all I feel is a headache and my heart beating like crazy.”

Nam-gyu sighed, “Yeah, I know, this fucking blows.”

The sound of the door lock turning made them look back to see you stumbling into the house, closing the door behind you and sliding down it onto the floor.

“Hey there’s are Meredith Grey, how was work today ?” Nam-gyu called out to you.

Him and Thanos sat on the couch, watching a movie, with their heads turned to peer at you.

You could barely keep your eyes open, “Fucking exhausting.”

“Well we got you some food on the table, if you’re hungry.”

You perked up at the sound of food, you made yourself stand and walk over to the table. “Aww, thank you guys, this is a really sweet gesture.”

“Oh yeah, no problem, we know the long hard hours you work and wanna make sure you get the energy you need.”

You smiled at them, before grabbing your food and putting it in the microve. Once done, you sat down at the table and began munching down on your hot McSpicy with fries and washing it down with a coke.

You tilted your head, noticing the orange bottle of pills on the table in front of you for the first time. You picked it up and looked at the label, noticing that it wasn’t either of their names.

You rolled your eyes as you realized Nam-gyu must have stolen it from someone at the club. Curious though, you tried to look for the name of the drug but the label was too tattered to read it.

Thanos got up from the couch and joined you at the table, “Oh yeah, maybe you can help us out and tell us what this is.”

You huffed, “Please tell me you guys didn’t take one already, without knowing exactly what was going into your body ?”

“Eh, I wouldn’t worry too much y/n.” Thanos shrugged, “We took it an hour ago and still feel nothing except for our hearts racing but that could just be the weed we smoked earlier.”

You closed yours eyes at the mention of weed, “You mixed it with another substance ?”

“Yeah, but it’s just weed.” Thanos defended, “That’s not harmful, it’s like drinking alcohol.”

You smacked your hand in the middle of your face at his ignorance. “Thanos, mixing prescription drugs with alcohol can be lethal.”

“We only smoked weed, I was just comparing it to alcohol.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, “No, Thanos, I get that I was just saying-“ you sighed, “You know what nevermind, let me see if I can figure out what this is before I give myself a heart attack.”

You popped open the bottle and shook one out onto the palm of your hand. The pill looked fairly familiar and it wasn’t until you looked very closely at it to read the writing that you let out a laugh.

“What ?” Thanos asked, “What is it ?”

You closed your eyes, shaking your head with a big smile on your lips. “Hey Nam-gyu ?” You called out to him.

His head turned around, “Yeah, what’s up ?”

“Come here please.” You motioned him with your finger.

He raised his eyebrows and got up walking around the couch, your eyes along with Thanos’s were instantly drawn to the prominent hard on showing through his grey sweats. Nam-gyu sat down across from you completely oblivious to his situation.

“Who’d you get this from ?”

His eyes went to the blue pill in your hand, “Some older guy at the club tonight. I thought since woman were practically throwing themselves at him, he would have something that we would want, but turns out it was nothing. This shit is ass.” He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

The smile on your face grew even more, “Well typically Viagra only works if you’re sexually aroused.”

Nam-gyu’s eyes squinted in confusion not completely catching on yet, “Viagra ?”

Thanos froze for a second and then looked down, “Fuck.”

Nam-gyu’s head snapped to him, following his gaze and he chuckled, “Dude why are you-“ He blinked his eyes a couple times before looking down at his own erection.

You bit your lip to keep from laughing, “Yeah… so you guys took Viagra-“ You checked the pill again, “-And at the highest dose as well, wow.”

“Shit.” Nam-gyu commented, looking anywhere but at you.

“Good news is, since you only mixed it with weed there shouldn’t be too many side effects besides Tachycardia. Plus weed can increase the amount of Viagra in your system, making it last longer and amplifying its effects.”

They both looked at each other with worry and confusion. “What’s Tachycardia ?” Nam-gyu asked, looking back at you.

“It’s just means a faster than normal heartbeat.” You explained.

“Shit.” Thanos cursed under his breathe, “Y/n you gotta help us.”

You laughed, getting up from your seat and throwing your trash away. “Yeah not gonna happen, you two can suck each other off, I’m going to go sleep.”

You went to your room and shut the door, quickly switching into comfortable pj’s and snuggling under your covers.

A few hours later you awoke to someone shaking you lightly and whispering your name. You barely peeled your eyes open enough to make out the color of Thanos’s purple hair.

“Thanos…” You groaned, “What the fuck do you want ?”

“Y/n, you gotta help us.” His voice sounded panicky.

You whined, stretching your limbs, “Huh ? What are you saying ?”

“The Viagra we took earlier, remember ?”

You let out a soft laugh recalling the event suddenly, “What about it ?”

“It’s been two and half hours and we’re still hard as rocks.”

“Alright TMI.” You rolled over onto your side, your back facing him.

“Y/n-“ He pulled your arm down having your back lay against the mattress. “I’m not playing around, we both tried jacking off and came but nothing changed, we’re still hard and it’s starting to become painful.”

“Okay, I still don’t know what you expect me to-“

Thanos cut you off, attaching his lips to yours. This wasn’t the first time you two have kissed, sometimes when you would drink with them, you guys would get really steamy. Not just with Thanos but Nam-gyu too.

You moaned into the kiss, your fingers lazily running through his hair. He rolled himself on top of you, making you instantly feel his hard on pressed against your leg. You felt yourself clench at the thought of him inside of you.

You felt the bed dip next to you and looked over while Thanos kissed along your neck. It was Nam-gyu, he was feeling himself over his sweats as he watched you and Thanos play with each other.

When Thanos pulled away to remove his clothing, you crawled over to Nam-gyu. He leaned back onto his elbows as you made your way on top of him. You could hear his breathing pick up, as your face inched closer to his. You attached your lips to his and he moaned into the kiss as he tried pulling you more into him.

That’s the thing you loved about getting intimate with Nam-gyu, he was so needy.

One of his legs was trapped between your thighs and Nam-gyu bucked his hips up & down, humping your leg. He broke away from the kiss, releasing such loud sensual whines of desperation.

You began kissing his neck and his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hands clutching your hips to pull you even closer to him.

“Y/n.” You heard a deep voice call next to you.

You looked over to an exposed Thanos laying on the bed stroking himself, “Suck me off.” He commanded.

And this is what you loved about being intimate with Thanos, he was very dominating.

You licked your lips, nodding your head and crawling over between his legs. You grabbed the base of his cock and saw as his eyes glaze over with lust watching you. You licked a strip from where your hand was to his tip and felt him shiver beneath you before taking him into your mouth.

His hand tangled in your hair as you started to bob your head on him. You gagged around him when he shoved you down on his dick more, loving the sounds of you struggling to take him all in.

He released your head and you came up for air, a string of saliva being the only thing connecting you two at the moment. You wiped your mouth and Thanos sat up, swiftly unbuttoning your top.

You gasped at the cold air hitting your exposed skin, your nipples rock hard from it.

Thanos attached his mouth to one while his hand messaged the other. Your hand went to his hair lightly pulling on it. You felt vibrations against your skin as you heard him moan and noticed Nam-gyu, now fully naked as well, behind him. His arm was reached around Thanos’s waist, stroking his dick.

Thanos stopped what he was doing to you and turned around to focus on Nam-gyu. Attaching their lips as he fondled with his balls. Nam-gyu’s nails dragged down Thanos’s chest and he hissed into the kiss.

Thanos then detached his lips to spit in his hand. He reached down stroking Nam-guy’s leaking cock and watched as his mouth hung open, releasing such pretty moans for him as he looked at him through half lided eyes.

“God such a needy fucking slut for me, huh ?”

He whined, nodding his head as his hands hung onto his shoulders for support as he came undone; his cum spilling onto Thanos’s cock and lower abdomen.

Thanos grabbed him by the neck, his face only a few centimeters from his. “You better clean this shit up.”

“Y-yes sir.” Nam-gyu squeaked out.

Thanos released him, throwing him against the mattress. You watched as Thanos layed down and Nam-gyu quickly got up and crawled on all fours licking the cum from around his stomach.

You bit your lip at the sight, Nam-gyu was usually a shit talker who acted like he was a tough domineer but when it came to sex he was the complete opposite. Such a submissive, needy partner.

Nam-gyu was about to lick the cum off of Thanos’s dick but he stopped him. “Y/n-“ He used two fingers to motion you over and you listened crawling over to replace Nam-guy’s position next to him.

“Yes ?” You asked.

He rested his hands behind his head, “I want you to ride me.” You broke eye contact to look over at his cock that was decorated in Nam-gyu’s cum.

“Now.” He growled.

You swallowed, removing your shorts/underwear and positioning yourself on top of him. You grabbed his dick to line up with your entrance and felt the sticky substance coat your fingers. Nam-gyu’s cum mixed with your arousel made it very easy for you to sink yourself down onto him.

“That’s a good girl.” He moaned, placing his hands on your hips helping you bounce on his cock.

Your pace quickened when he slapped your ass with one of his hands and you moaned out his name. You felt him twitch inside of you and knew he was close. He pulled you into his chest and swiftly rolled you over so he was now ontop of you.

You didn’t have time to think as he thrusted himself into you, deeper and quicker this time. Your mouth hung open, moans falling out of it one after the other.

“Gonna cum.” Thanos grunted.

“P-please.” You begged, feeling yourself too close to the edge as well.

“Please what kitten ?” Asked, “You want me to cum in this tight pussy of yours, hmm ?”

You clenched around him in response and he groaned. “I need to hear you say kitten.”

Your nails marked up his back as you tried to form words, “P-p-please c-cum in me…”

He caressed his thumb on your cheek, “Such a good girl for me.” He said with a smile, “How could I say no ?”

His hand then went to your throat as he did three last hard thrust into you before spilling his warm cum into you. You came at the feeling of his cum filling you like a pastry and spilling out of you when he pulled out.

You never worried about either one them getting you pregnant because of all the drugs they took. Thanos layed beside you, instantly wrapping his arm around your waist with his head in the nap of your neck. It only took a few seconds for him to start snoring softly into your ear and you giggled a bit.

Nam-gyu who was fast asleep after Thanos had jerked him off; unconsciously rolled over pressing his chest against his back and you smiled at how cute they looked while sleeping. It didn’t take long for you to follow suit.

————

In the morning, it was your day off so you didn’t care too much that you slept in. The clock read 12:34 PM and you groaned as you stretched your limbs. You felt your ass damp and looked beneath the sheets suddenly remembering the events that took place last night.

You looked over and noticed the boys were no longer in your bed. You yawned, walking over to your bathroom and took a shower. Once done you threw on your clothes for the day and walked out your room into the kitchen. It smelled of eggs, bacon, hashbrowns making your mouth water.

“Well look who finally decided to wake up.” Nam-gyu snarked and you stuck out your tongue at him taking the chair across from him at the table.

Thanos scrapped the eggs out of the pan onto Nam-gyu’s plate that was full of food already. He pointed his spatula at you, “How many eggs you want ?”

“Two.” You said holding up two fingers as well.

Nam-gyu took a bite of his food and then stood up, “Mmm, before I eat I’m going to throw your sheets in the washer real quick.”

You nodded your head, “Thank you.” You called after him.

It wasn’t long before Nam-gyu returned and Thanos had made you and him a plate of food. Thanos sat in the chair next to Nam-gyu and everyone chomped down on their food.

“Do you need money for a plan B ?” Thanos asked, with an eyebrow raised.

You shook your head with a chuckle, “No. I’d be lucky enough if either of your guys’s sperm lasted two days in me.”

Nam-gyu looked at you confused, “What do you mean ?”

“You guys are so hopped up on drugs that your sperm cells aren’t the best. Even if they got me pregnant, I’d most likely have a miscarriage after a couple of weeks and not even know it.”

Nam-gyu’s eyes looked concerned, “Damn… that’s-uh kind of depressing.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “It’s not like you’re starting a family anytime soon and when you want to just slow down on the narcotics, yeah ?” He nodded his head going back to eating his food.

Once finished you set your dishes in the washer and thanked Thanos for the delicious food he prepared. You told them that you were going to go get your nails done and to not wait up for you. Thanos stopped you at the door handing you a wad of cash.

“What’s this ?” You asked.

“Money for your nails.”

You tried giving him the money back, “I’ve got it, you don’t have to-“

He shook his head, “I insist.”

“Really Thanos I don’t-“

He smirked, “Let me spoil you.”

You smiled, rolling your eyes at him, “Thank you.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek and walked out the door as he shut and locked it behind you.

[pacifierpuppy]

I keep having this fantasy about being slowly gaslit into regression, being lied and tricked and by the time you realize what’s going on it’s already way too late for you to back out, heavily inspired by @crinklemommy’s captions

It starts with you accidentally starting to wet the bed. It’s not every night, it seems like a freak accident at first. But after the 3rd time in a month, your partner takes you to the doctor because she’s worried about you. The doctor examines you, runs some tests, and prescribed you some medication that should be able to help with this issue. On the way home, as you stop into the pharmacy to pick up your prescription, your partner also grabs a pack of overnight protection briefs. Just in case. Just until your new medication starts working. It’s not a shameful thing she’s not mad at you, it’s just the sanitary thing to do considering your condition. So you agree to wear them, you start taking your new pills, but it never stops. It starts getting worse, too slow to notice at first, but after a few months you’re wetting yourself more nights than you aren’t.

The breaking point comes when you have a daytime accident. You’re driving home from work, and your pants suddenly feel warm and wet, the stench of piss filling your nostrils, it’s almost too much to handle. You’re overwhelmed. You finally get home and walk inside, crying from the shame as your partner rushes to your side, trying to see what’s wrong. As soon as she sees you she realizes what happened. She guides you to the shower, re-assuring you as she helps strip you from the soiled clothes, running to grab fresh ones for you as you clean yourself and contemplate what’s going on. You hear her on the phone scheduling another appointment for you as she places the set of clean clothes by the sink for you to change into after your shower. When you’re finally done, you step out and notice a pair of your padded briefs on top of your clothes, no underwear. It makes sense, but it’s still not easy to accept you’re going to need wear these during the day as well. You’re worried. The medicine isn’t helping, you’re not sure why this is happening to you. But your partner is there to re-assure you, to get you the help you need. You two will figure this out together.

You arrive at the doctors 2 weeks later (it was the first appointment they had open) with soaked padding hidden underneath your pants. The daytime accidents had become more and more common in those agonizingly long weeks waiting for this appointment, but you’re here now, your partner is here with you holding your hand, rubbing your thumb with hers to reassure you as you sit together in the waiting room. Finally your name is called, and you have another visit with this specialist your partner found. He’s very sympathetic, he explains that this, while uncommon, is something he’s seen before. He prescribes you another course of treatment to go along with the first. It has a pretty lengthy list of side effects, but he’s confident it will work. He writes you a prescription for the new medication, re-ups your prescription for the first treatment too. It’s a lot to take in, but the finish line is in sight.

Your first week on the new medication is ROUGH. You knew there were side effects, but you weren’t expecting this. You’re incredibly tired. It’s not uncommon for you to take multiple naps throughout the day. This paired with brain fog (another side effect) makes working incredibly difficult. Your performance is slipping because you just can’t really focus on anything anymore. Those, combined with how the medication makes you grind your teeth until your jaw is sore, you just don’t know how you’d get through this without your loving partner by your side. She holds you as you cry at night, comforting you, reminding you that this isn’t your fault. It’s not a moral failing it’s a medical condition. It’s not going to be forever. You just need to wait for the medicine to take its effect, and you’ll be good to go. “It’s like Chemotherapy,” she says. “The side effects suck, but it’s better than the alternative, right?” And of course, you know she’s right. It’s just hard to keep everything in perspective.

She was by your side with solutions to every problem. Concerned by how much you were grinding your teeth, she looked for some solutions online before you wore yours down to nubs. The pacifier had been a hard sell, but she reminded you it was just like your protective briefs. It’s just what we need to do because if your condition. So every night you strapped the pacifier around your head so you couldn’t spit it out in your sleep, and you kept it on hand during the day for if the grinding got to bad. When the fatigue and confusion and lack of focus got so bad you couldn’t work anymore, she helped you get some extended sick leave from work, so you knew you’d have a job to get back when you got better. When new side effects started appearing, like your loss of fine motor control and muscle atrophy, she was more than happy to help. She would help you cut up your meals into more manageable pieces, since you had trouble working your fork and knife. She got you bottles with lids to help with how much you were accidentally dropping heavy glasses. When you started having trouble with the stairs, unable to make it up to your shared bedroom on the second floor, she helped get you set up in the guest bedroom downstairs. It was a childish room, but at least you weren’t risking those stairs multiple times a day anymore. She looked after your every need. She picked up your prescriptions on time every months, made sure you never ran out of your protection, drove you to your now weekly doctors appointments monitoring your progress, the side effects, and your continued deterioration. She took care of you, and you could never thank her enough.

When you got too weak to change out of your wet protection yourself, she helped with that too. She started buying a new brand of protective undergarments, ones that your doctor had highly recommended, with tapes. She set up a nice little table for changes in your room, and your little changes quickly became your favorite part of the day. It’s not that you enjoyed having someone change you out of your wet diapers, (and let’s face it, that’s what they are) but it was just so….. intimate. Her opening up the tapes, wiping you clean, making sure to massage the lotion into every little crevice, applying the scented powder, it was a lot more fun than you cared to admit. She made sure to give you all the attention and care you needed, making sure you didn’t feel embarrassed about this change in circumstances. After all, as she kept reminding you, it’s only temporary. Only until you get better.

As the months turned into years, the changes in your life kept piling up. When doctor switched you to an all liquid diet, your partner made sure to lovingly prepare your meal replacement shakes, even holding the bottle for you on nights when you were too weak to hold it in your own. After finding you face down on the floor one morning, having fallen out of bed and unable to get yourself back up, she replaced that guest room bed, your bed, with one that had raised walls so you weren’t at risk of falling again. When your various medications started impacting your emotions, making you cry at the drop of a hat, or get frustrated at the smallest things, she was always there to comfort you. On Valentine’s Day, after you had expressed how much you missed cuddling her at night, she got you a big stuffed bear sprayed with her favorite perfume so it was like you were holding her in your arms again. She bought you new clothes that snapped at the crotch to make changes easier, she exercised your limbs, made sure to get you out if your bed so you weren’t at risk of getting bed sores, she took care of your every need and want.

You didn’t notice her calling you “Baby” with increasingly more frequency, it had always been one of her favorite pet names. You didn’t notice her beginning to talk to you in more and more childish ways as time went on, fussing over this and that. You didn’t notice the knowing looks her and the doctor exchanged from time to time. Why would you? It’s not like she had anything to hide from you. She clearly loved you. Look at everything she was doing for you. You eventually stopped noticing the years ticking by, your condition never getting better. You forgot that was even an option, after all, you had been settled into this routine for so long now, you barely remembered what life used to be like. You hardly even questioned it when she started occasionally breastfeeding you. At that point you were so starved for that sort of intimacy you were just glad she found a way you two could still have fun like that in your weakened state. (Sex had been a physical impossibility for some time now. You could barely stand, let alone do anything like that)

By the time you did realize, it didn’t even matter. You tried to confront her, but she just laughed. After all, what could you even do about it? Who could you tell? How would you be able to survive without her? It’s not like you could go back to being a normal person after this, she had made sure of that. Even if you got away, would anyone be able to love you like this? Be able to dedicate their life to taking care of you? You were comfortable here. You had your every need taken care of. It was easier to just give in, like you had so many times before.

After all, Mama would never let anything bad happen to her baby.

[visionsofcarnality]

can we get headcanons for gilf!Joel maybe? his slicked back hair in tlou ep3 stirred something in me 🥵🥵🥵

i like the way you think…

Silver Fox ! Joel Miller Headcanons NSFW!!

Traditional old man in every sense of the word, he doesn’t make cheesy comments when you grab a door handle but he does give you a scolding little glare that totally doesn’t light a fire in your panties.

Self conscious about his somewhat saggy skin around his chest, middle, and extremities even after you’ve assured him until you’re blue in the face. You do help him though. Watching how attracted you are to his body even aged as it is definitely strokes his ego.

Has an online refillable prescription for Viagra that gets delivered to his apartment, and when he takes it he becomes an absolute fiend.

Usually without the Viagra he still is able to throughly satisfy you with ages of foreplay and a nice thorough fucking, leaving you both satisfied after one climactic round.

But when he takes Viagra-

You better clear your schedule and invest in a massage gun for your legs afterwards because you are going to be SORE.

I’m talking several positions, screaming until your throat hurts, your pussy feeling raw and used, daylong marathon sex.

Joel doesn’t seem to soften even a fraction until your body is wailing in protest and you can’t feel your thighs anymore.

You don’t think he could possibly have any more left in him until he’s once again emptying his heavy, full balls into your cunt; adding to the previous loads from the past six rounds he’s already shot into your body.

When he’s not fucking you stupid with the assistance of his little blue pills, he’s treating you like the princess you’d expect he would.

Don’t even think about carrying your own groceries, what are you, crazy?

Speaking of groceries…

If you aren’t living together yet best believe he’s on your doorstep every Sunday at 11AM with a truck full of groceries, dropping them off after church let’s out and he’s free to go to the store.

He makes you sit and continue sipping your coffee/tea while he puts them away, simultaneously checking the sell-by dates of everything in your fridge and pantry like a man obsessed.

Like a true old fashioned southern boy, he won’t tell you he’s in love with you. But he will point out the amount of things expired in your house.

“Come on, now. You’re gonna get sick, this is ridiculous-“ As if he hasn’t brought you your favorite brand of cereal and all your preferred snacks. Even all those “Shitty, organic, cardboard crap” things you love.

Never had a good plate of grits? He’s making them meticulously for you the morning after a hookup. “Eat, you need it. That stuff’ll keep you goin’ all day.”

Is all too supportive of your flimsy little sundresses. The gauzy fabric floating around your legs like a visualization of your perfume, nearly beckoning him closer. Even when you’re looking like a good little church girl in your soft, flowy dresses… all he can think about is how easy it would be to bend you over and have his way with you.

Which he does the second he brings you home from his cousin’s cookout in the suburbs.

Did I mention that he got a vasectomy after his divorce? Still, seeing you with his now adult daughter makes him daydream about getting you pregnant.

Which he finds insane… He doesn’t want any more kids, he physically can’t have any more kids… But the only thing he can think about right now is burying his cum in your pussy and keeping you pampered in his house with your belly full of his babies.

That vasectomy won’t stop him from trying his damndest, though. Especially after Sarah (who he had young) has her first baby and he watches you hold the six month old infant for the first time.

This man is a GENTLEMAN in the most old fashioned sense of the word.

Like, I cannot stress that enough.

If you’re an independent person, prepare to be thoroughly pampered.

His old fashioned chivalrous ways may be frustrating sometimes but it really does come from a place of just wanting to show his love.

Like when he insists on driving you everywhere whenever you go places together, or when he always finds a way to move you to the side of his body furthest away from the sidewalk when you walk, or when he automatically picks up your purse when you meet so that he can carry it for you.

But you forget all about those minor annoyances when he bends you over your kitchen table and pounds you into next week, muttering nonsense about how you’re too young for him or how you’re such a dirty girl for wanting him and his old man cock.

You moan his name when he grips both your hips in a tight but loving hold, all too willing to forgive him for his incessant door opening when you’re all dumbed down on his cock, the cock which is now way too hard and blood filled because he definitely popped one of your favorite blue pills a while ago.

But much like the gentleman he is, after he fucks you into a blissed-out stupor, he carries you to the bed and wipes your spent pussy clean, cuddling you into the mattress and running his hands through your hair while you both come down from your highs.

When he does get insecure about the age difference between you, all you can do is kiss his leathery, stubbled cheek and wrap your arms around him… Convincing him with your actions instead of words that his age is only a factor in your attraction to him… And that you love him for what makes him him.

this post got way too long but NONNIE I HOPE I DID YOU JUSTICE!!

[12percentspider]

Info time: Diabetes and related issues [this is long but I highly suggest reading]

Do you ever see something and you go "that doesn't sound right, but I don't know enough about diabetes to dispute it"? Well, I can help you there. I can help you know enough about diabetes to dispute it if need be. Especially because well, there are seemingly a lot of scams going around where people claim to be diabetic [in my experience it's maybe 3 scammers that just remake] and the information is not very correct in most cases. Not to mention this type of scam pisses me off because I am in fact diabetic, and not only are people preying off of others' lack of information about the chronic condition, but it's also trivializing a serious lifelong condition that can be fatal. If you have now or have lost a loved one to diabetes complications, you are already aware of how dangerous it can be as well as how dangerous misinformation is as well.

What is diabetes? Diabetes is a chronic condition related to the endocrine system- the pancreas specifically. However, if complications get serious enough other parts of the body will be affected. In type 2 diabetes, the body's cells have become resistant to insulin, which is a hormone produced by the pancreas that allows cells to use glucose from the blood- your body's energy it needs to function. When someone is 'type 2', the food that person is eating is not able to fuel them, regardless of caloric content. Glucose is commonly called "blood sugar". It's a type of sugar that is processed and then transported via the circulatory system to your cells where it's needed. With type 1 diabetes (which used to be called "juvenile diabetes"), the pancreas does not produce any/enough insulin for some reason or another, generally because of autoimmune or other damage. [For me personally, I was diagnosed as an adult and had to have it confirmed as type 1 due to the presence of autoimmune antibodies, also apparently my pancreas hadn't quite given up at that point.] As we've seen before, insulin allows your body to use the food you are putting into it. As a double whammy, you can have type 1 with resistance, so not only is your body not producing any/enough insulin, what's there can't be used properly. [RIP Spider who has this] So to explain the effects, think about what happens when you're literally starving. Now imagine that's happening no matter how much you eat. Your body may go into starvation mode and store fat. This can be misleading, which when combined with fatphobia has people concluding that "well, you have diabetes because you're fat, duh". Heck, I have/had diabetic relatives who believed that eating too many carbs will automatically cause the condition because that's what everyone is told/assumes. Eventually, you'd starve and your body would start deteriorating as so. HOWEVER because you would have so much glucose that just sits there because it can't be used, your kidneys are going to work overtime to try and correct this- and they can't do it alone. Your liver can also suffer severe damage. That's not to mention a whole host of other complications that can occur.

So what about it? Well, obviously there are treatments. Insulin injections have existed since the 1920s. There are also medications that can help your body actually use the insulin it's being provided, be it naturally or artificially. So yes, people with diabetes are dependent on prescriptions to survive. My grandma lost a sister in childhood due to insulin treatments apparently not being available in the extremely rural area they were living in at the time. More recently, the israeli occupation has banned insulin from being distributed to Palestinians. [Insulin has also been used historically in psychiatric hospitals to force low blood sugar in psychiatric patients, but that's a whole other rabbithole about psychiatric abuse.] There are resources for the US and beyond if you or someone you know and/or love are in dire straits financially and need help with insulin or other diabetes medications/ related medical help. That's only one aspect of treatment, though. Because pain, stress, hormone changes, other medical issues, and plenty of other factors can raise your blood sugar to dangerous levels, other kinds of treatment to manage other factors may be necessary.

Now that that's out of the way, let's get to specifics. So the most common problem you're going to see mentioned is high blood sugar. We've already covered what the effects are, but what is considered high? For the most part, "high" is 200 milligrams per deciliter. My CGM (continuous glucose monitor) lists "high" as anything 181 or higher but stops giving an exact number after 350. This is why I had a good laugh that time I saw a scammer using an image of a meter reading glucose in the 120s- that's good blood sugar. If you're going to get even more specific you want your pre-breakfast blood sugar to be 80-130. So when you see an accompanying image reading in the 500s, that's extremely dangerous. That's "you're in danger of going into a coma" dangerous.

Insulin pricing? How come I'm seeing people saying they need $300? In the US, pricing cap was set to $35 somewhat recently. What this means is that per insulin pen (as far as I've experienced, the above-linked resource post should have links with better clarification) it's $35. Can't be more than that for one pen. How many doses that provides is very up in the air. It absolutely varies from person to person. I have relatives with type 2 that have to inject a dose of very long-acting insulin weekly, one has gone back and forth with daily doses on top of that. I'm type 1 and have to take one dose of long-acting nightly with injections of a short-acting insulin before every meal, with the exact dosage amounts varying per meal. Insulin is measured in units (there's probably an actual mL amount, both of mine are 100 units per mL with a 3mL pen). How many units someone needs is determined with their medical provider (or care team? When I went to 'diabetes education' after diagnosis I was set up with a "care team").

Edited:

["...pharmacies can refuse to split boxes of insulin pens depending on company/store policy. so if someone lost their insulin and needed to get a replacement because insurance wont pay for more, the pharmacy could make them get a full box of three or five pens."]

via: anon ask (thank you much!!!) So it turns out that yes, with $35 being a cap it would very much likely be for EACH pen, with 3 being $105 in this case and 5 being $175.

But at any rate, if someone is in an emergency situation in the US should be able to get an insulin pen for $35 pretty much when they get to a pharmacy [again, from edit: no, not every pharmacy]. Yes, I get that this can be difficult in some situations, but that's outside the concept of insulin prices.

If someone's blood sugar is over 500 though, they almost certainly need a hospital more than they need an insulin pen. Yes, alright, the actual real single mother on twitter who was the source of the profile images/meter images that whatever the current url for vero-og has stolen and been using for months... that was actually months ago and I'm sure she doesn't need to be told to go to the hospital right now. [That said, if you get an ask from someone and the url is a variation off of 'vero-og' that is a confirmed scammer.] And then on top of that, yes, why would you block people that can get you free or discounted insulin? If someone was offering to save your life for free or find you what you need for far less than what you were expecting to spend, why wouldn't you take it? Unless what you're actually after is money.

SO TO RECAP: Insulin does not cost $300, $350, $370, whatever someone is sending you an ask about. In the US, it is federally capped at $35 per pen, with further resources available, as well as further resources being available internationally. If you need help, please be honest about it. I promise there are people who care, you don't have to try and explain yourself- but it absolutely does not cost that much and if it did, there are ways to lower the cost by quite a bit if there aren't resources to make it free. Diabetes is a lifelong chronic condition that is not caused by "being fat" or "eating too much", it is caused by your body not functioning right and your body can starve no matter how much food you eat. Unfortunately, people have been lying on this site for months if not years claiming to have type 1 with an insulin emergency. These people cannot possibly have diabetes, or they would be well aware that they do not need hundreds of dollars to get their insulin. They are counting on you not knowing this so you will donate to them. The 'vero-og' scammer had been harassing someone who donated and threatening them with the intention of bullying more money out of the donor.

[rememberwren]

A Dichotomy of Thought || 1

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Further Parts You move next door to a disabled veteran and his troubled partner.

Warnings and details: disabled!Johnny; established Ghoap future Ghoap/reader; domestic abuse (not Ghoap); heavy themes of suicide, violence, abuse, poor coping mechanisms, prescription drugs. I’m not sure if I have anything here, let me know if anyone is interested in this series.

#

A helicopter goes down in the mountains of Kazakhstan and it takes a piece of Soap with it. They never recovered the arm—nor the three service members who lost more than their arms in the crash. The thought is one that Johnny’s mind cycles back to often, in moments of quiet or while he lies awake at night feeling tremors in an arm that’s no longer attached. Suddenly he’ll wonder: what are those bones up to, buried in snow and ice so deep the sun will never touch them again? Do they miss me?

Fuck, he misses them.

#

After the accident, the world is very black and white. Mostly it’s black. Blackness at the edge of his vision threatens to creep in when he stands too long, when he stands on his own, when he turns his head too fast. Anytime his blood pressure rises over that Goldilocks number of 120/80, it threatens to drop him faster than Simon used to during their first weeks of training together in the 141.

The doctors say that he’s a miracle. The traumatic brain injury had his brain swelling and pushing at the confines of his skull like water freezing in a bottle. Give him a little longer in the cold and maybe his cap would blow off. Except it hadn’t; he was still dealing with swelling all over: in his thalamus, his hypothalamus, in his cerebrum, all the words he’d never bothered to learn in school and couldn’t fucking remember now no matter how hard he tries. He gets the point. Simon does too. Johnny should be dead.

Instead he just wishes he were.

Even now, when he can remember his name and Simon’s and even (more often than not) the name of the waitress who serves them chicken and waffles at the local diner every Saturday, there are still more bad days than good. Still more darkness than light. Still more nights waking up to the sound of helicopter blades slowing, the relentless hum becoming a deafening chop chop chop like the thrum of his heartbeat. There’s that moment of weightlessness when the helicopter goes down and he has yet to go with it that makes him wake in a cold sweat, nauseous and looking for something to be sick in.

Through it all, Simon is there. Simon is the light. He’d laugh if he heard Johnny say that—though a laugh is probably too generous. Simon doesn’t laugh much these days. Not when he spends three fourths of his time taking care of Johnny and the other fourth thinking about how better to take care of Johnny. If it weren’t for Simon, Johnny would have done himself in by now. There’s a thousand ways to do it; plenty of arms and munitions in the apartment they share together. Or there are the pain pills, if he wanted it to look like an accident. A few too many of those and he could crawl right through that darkness in his vision and find out what’s on the other side. As soon as the thought crosses his mind (and it crosses his mind more often than that fucking chicken crosses the road), the guilt comes, like anyone and everyone can read it on his mind: his mama rest her soul, Simon, Jesus on the cross. After all of the work that has gone into him, into saving his broken body and mind, into rehabilitating him, how can he even think of throwing in the towel?

Turns out it’s pretty fucking easy to think about it.

As a matter of fact, he’s thinking about it the first time he meets you, when you nearly do the job for him.

It’s spring, cool, and he’s working up a goddamn sweat anyway. Simon stands in the alleyway, smoking and pretending not to watch as Johnny hobbles up and down the length of the parking lot with his forearm crutch. His armpit throbs. His knee throbs. His head throbs as he continues along, beating out a strange little rhythm on the concrete—thum-thump, thum-thump, thum-thump. He says all the curse words he knows and dreams up a few new ones too. It’s supposed to be getting easier, but Simon just pushes him harder to make up for the ground he covers. That’s one of the shitty parts about loving an ex-military man; he never goes easy on you.

Johnny’s thinking about the tub upstairs, just big enough for him if he curls in on himself. Sometimes a hot bath helps the knots in his muscles, but sometimes when Simon leaves the room to get a washcloth Johnny will slip beneath the surface of the water and see how long he can hold his—

Then you come out of absolutely nowhere in your shitty little four-door and nearly hit him. As a matter of fact, you do hit his crutch, sending it sprawling out of his hand and sending him clattering to the ground on his bad side. For a moment, he thinks: this is it. This is how I die. Not in a helicopter in Kazahkstan but here, now, today, and he can’t tell if it’s relief in his belly or regret. Then your tires squeal like pigs on the pavement, the smell of burnt rubber thick in the air, and he is face to face with you and your horror, close enough that the air from your hasty turn brushes along his body and sends his heart pounding.

“What the steaming bloody fucking Jesus do you think you’re doing?” he finds himself shouting, pain lancing all along his side from his fake knee to the stump of his arm. Simon is there all at once, cigarette abandoned to smolder to ash in the alleyway, putting his hands under Johnny’s armpits and lifting him like a child even when he yelps in pain like a kicked dog. Johnny leans against him heavily. The edges of his vision are turning black. He bangs his fist against the hood of your car. “Did Jesus send ye? Did He tell ye to finish the fucking job and do me in? ‘That’s the cunt right there, beam him with your car’? Did he tell you that?”

You reluctantly get out of the car, not even wearing a goddamn seatbelt. The car’s soft, insistent alarm begins to remind you with unending politeness that the door is open and your seatbelt is off while you stand there, pallid, eyes huge and watering in the face of Johnny’s shouts.

He sees then that one of your eyes is swollen almost completely shut, blood turning the white sclera pink like the fine mist of blood over the snow when they finally pulled Johnny free from the helicopter. No wonder you didn’t see him coming, with a single functioning eye. He’s opened his mouth to tell you so (and to tell you a dozen other fucking things) when he nearly swoons, the rug of the world being tugged under his feet by the hand of God.

Simon slips a firmer arm around Johnny’s waist.

A man gets out of the passenger side. He begins to berate you for not paying attention, for nearly killing Johnny. Johnny agrees, but is annoyed all the same. He’s the one who almost died; leave the shouting to him.

“I’m so sorry,” you choke out, tears dripping near-constant from your eyes. “I’m an idiot. I’m so sorry. Let me get your—”

“Done enough, haven’t you?” Simon asks cooly. It sends you reeling back into the car where you sit with both hands over your mouth, chest hitching with your panicked sobs.

“Hey, is he, like, okay?” your partner asks.

“Fuck off,” Simon says, deftly ushering Johnny over one shoulder and holding the crutch in the other. He carries them back to the elevators without breaking a sweat, and Johnny cries on his shoulder from the pain of it, the sheer embarrassment of it the whole way home. The day before Kazahkstan he couldn’t have been able to tell you the last time he cried; now he cries every fucking day from one reason or another.

“I’m fine,” Johnny says when they make it back to the apartment and Simon eases him down into a chair. They arrange his knee in the one position that has it throbbing less, but then Johnny bats Simon’s hands away. “Go. I’m fine. I don’t need you hoverin’ over me.”

“Alright.”

“Fuck off with yer alright.”

Simon doesn’t say anything. Johnny hears his footsteps leading toward the bedroom they share—hardly a bedroom, how long has it been since they slept there together peacefully? Since they fucked? Johnny can tell you how long it’s been. Since before things went black and white. The footsteps stop then.

“You stepped in front of her, Johnny,” Simon says, his voice low but not quiet enough to count as a whisper. “I watched you do it. Don’t think you’re so fucking slick.”

He shuts the bedroom door behind him.

[bitter-me]

A funny request that I have in mind

Male Xianyun(genshin impact) reader telling embarrassing stories of the High-Cloud Quintet to Stella/Caelus, March 7th, Dan Heng and Yanqing

High-Cloud Quintet Troubles

M. Reader as Xianyun [Genshin Impact] (Platonic)

----------

I don't know if they could even be called embarrassing. But they're definitely random.

----------

The days in the Loufu were quiet. Everything seems to be peaceful once the whole crisis was resolved. That is.. until Dan Heng meet an "old friend"...

"Baiheng managed to scare Jing Yuan enough with her stories to the point he would bolted right out of bed out of fright. He wasn't able to sleep for days!" He says casually, sipping his tea. March and Caelus burst out laughing as the image of a frighten General comes to mind, the "all mighty" General, shaking like a leaf over some scary story from a Foxian. Their laughter is quite nice on the ear. It's been centuries since [Name] could enjoy moments like this. Oh and the look on the youngsters face is just wonderful. "Um.. [Name].. you don't really have to.." "Oh please, I insist."

Dan Heng shifted his gaze awkwardly amongst the group. Don't get him wrong, a reunion is always nice. But he didn't think it would be like this. Surely the elder would run out of stories, right..?

Oh how wrong he was..

"One time Baiheng was so dizzy from a flight test she fell out of the starskiff the moment it landed!"

"Wait, really?" March asked curiously. The famed starskiff piolet herself, can actually be somewhat clumsy? She thought the Foxian was perfect in all sorts of ways!

"Oh, I almost forgot! Jingliu had once become a walking cooler for everyone, her abnormally cold temperature actually has its use during intense heat."

"She what?!" Yanqing exclaimed. The Grand Swordmaster? Really? Caelus snickers at the mental image, everyone laying on each limp of the cold swordmaster's body just to cool off. What a sight that must be!

"And that one time where Yingxing was sick, Dan Feng nearly overdosed him with medicine. The prescription for short-lived species are different after all, but that somehow flew over his head."

Dan Heng remain silent at the elder's words, averting his eyes as he took a sip of his tea. It seems the High Elder isn't as "precise" as everyone says.

"Speaking of Yingxing, during his process in making weapons, he would craft some questionable items out. It's hard to describe but it's no doubt bizarre. The best way I can describe it is of a child who just discover pottery."

"They're that bad?"

"Bad? They were horrendous!!"

Caelus lets out a laugh at the other mental image, he could imagine what types of "weapons" Yingxing was creating and dubbed it as a prototype. Well at that point, might as well trust the process had become a mantra.

As much as people praise and hold the High Cloud Quintent in such high regards. They doesn't seem all that perfect when [Name]'s the one telling the story. The mighty group sounded more like friends messing around, having fun, and.. creating memories.

[genderqueerdykes]

just a little anecdote about disabilities & medication

had to go without my gabapentin, a medication i'm taking for nerve pain for about 2 weeks or so while i was struggling to get in contact with my doctor, and there was a mistake with it getting sent to the wrong pharmacy. gabapentin is a very good medication for a lot of people, myself included. i take 600 mg 3 times a day, which is the standard dose for nerve pain, and it works super well. it's honestly a great medication, as it helps with anxiety as well

whenever i'm on my gabapentin, i still feel some pain in my back, joints, and left arm, but when i'm not on it, holy fucking hell. sometimes i get used to what it's like on gabapentin and completely and totally forget what life is like without it. during those 2 weeks, my back seized up so bad i thought it was going to give out on me twice, even while using my rollator walker. the amount of squeezing pain i felt almost made me pass out at one point. the pain was causing my muscles to tense up, strangling my spine and my sciatic nerve at the same time, causing awful spidering pains that ran down my hips and legs. my left arm was almost unusable due to an injury i'm still recovering from. my entire left forearm was in absolute agony, i could barely use it.

sometimes when you're taking a maintenance medication for a long time, it can feel like it's not doing anything anymore. but trust me, it's still doing its job. if you aren't getting worse on a medication, chances are, it's working in ways that have become easy to overlook. obviously it's okay if you ever need to stop a medication. i've had to stop many that weren't helping, or making things outright worse. it's okay if a medication is making you feel like trash and you stop it. but if you ever feel like you can stop the medication because you feel better: don't. that's a sign that the medication is working. stay on it. you don't want to go back to what you were dealing with before. trust me. you want that quality of life.

good medications really can make the difference. it's not a bad thing to need prescription medications. some of them are genuinely life changing.

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

How to expand your vocabulary (in an enjoyable way).

Self-Awareness

If you find yourself struggling to find the appropriate words to express yourself ,then you need to learn more words. If you are reading this article or you find the title interesting, then you are closer than you thought. You are simply self aware. Self awareness is the first step to muster the courage to pursue the art of language and communication. It dawned on me that I was verbally malnourished when I could barely find the words to describe the character I read in a novel. "So what was he like?" My curious friends will ask and all I could say was "he had a troubled childhood and it was evident in his lack of self-control." The sound of that description even troubled me. I knew there was more to his character, but I restricted by my literary scarcity. I still struggle with this but I am making daily efforts to improve. This article will be prescriptive and descriptive.

Execution

Read books, I mean read actively. I read books and I atke pride in it but I am a severely passive reader. I barely engage with the story, the character, or the author's attempt to challenge my prejudice or affinity for the character. My reading goal was to read as many books as possible, quantity over quality. By quality, I mean quality of my reading, not the books per se. Now, I read differently (and I only started this a month ago), I read prudently, making stops anytime I encounter an unfamiliar word. I include that in my vocabulary list on my Notes app. after about 10 words or so. I immediately find each words synonyms, two per word; one easy, one difficult. For example, Decrepit (derelict, neglected).

Use Chat GPT to create sentences for you in different context and practice with that.

3. Find ways to include your new learned words in your own way. If you work a 9-5, it may be helpful to customize your prompt to business/professional context, to be more applicable to you. But most importantly, create your own sentence structure. If you have a meeting, prep for it by using the words your learned, take notes as a guide to help you effectively convey your ideas. I learned "impetuously" recently and during a meeting with my manager she asked me to access myself based on my strength and weaknesses. I responded with "I tend to impetuously accept projects without understanding the deliverables and I end up being overwhelmed with the expectations." My point it make sure you use the context of your everyday life. If you are a humanities major, you might approach this differently.

4. Make it enjoyable. Think of each new word as a specific dollar amount. Then create a "verbal bank," the more words your learn the richer you become. Ecah word for me is valued at $50. I earn $25 extra if I can use it effectively in a conversation. It you learn 10 new words a week, you have made yourself $500. Deposit that into your verbal bank!

5. Record yourself saying this words. Try to actively recall them but through a conversation. Do 1-minute tests. Record yourself describing your day, giving a presentation etc Notice with words flow naturally, if you like go back to your vocabulary list and test yourself. by creating sentences.

6. Expand your reading. Well, I did say to read books and I would suggest to go beyond. Read articles (very well written ones) and when not reading, actively listen to podcasts and pay attention to how the host convey their ideas. You would notice that good writing or speech is not necessarily peppered with difficult words. Good writers is simple to understand because the authors make diffiuclt topics or esoteric topics digestible.

Emulatate & Practise

You simply just have to emulate. Copy the style & syntax of people you admire or respect for their speech or writing. Keep practising. It is a choice to improve or not. Don't hold yourself back. I am practising by writing as well and I have barely scratched the surface and I am sure you can tell by my writing. It is not sophisticated but I do hope to improve and you can to.

Excite yourself

You will come to find yourself smiling when you read a text with words no longer foreign to you. Words that were once distant and strange will eventually become a part of you. That is the best feeling ever, it's exciting.

[grabby-smitten]

How to build a fence in 3 steps

Subjects: Sylus Qin x F!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k+

Content: A sad attempt at comedy, crackfic, interactions, no beta and not edited, commas placed everywhere, idk… let me know if i missed anything. Zayne, Rafayel and Xavier are main characters… sort of…

When you finally became his and how he subtly let everyone know.

Sylus is not the jealous type, but he is always sure to be very clear about boundaries and limits. He’s very meticulous about it and he likes to let people know whenever that changes. Like building fences for a new empty lot he just acquired so no one would misunderstand and try to get in. He’s defining property lines.

Step 1: Plan the layout, measure and mark.

You’ve been staying longer and longer within the N109 Zone since your relationship became sort of official. Well, official for you and Sylus and probably the twins. Nobody else could really know you were kind of dating the head of Onychinus for various obvious reasons.

Commuting from one place to another became a bit of a hassle so you would let Sylus know in advance about your schedule and let him or Mephisto escort you back safely.

And today was one of those days. You have an appointment with your primary care physician, in other words, doctor Zayne. It’s been days since you let Sylus know about your visit to Akso hospital today but he seemed to have different plans.

“Sylus,” you called out of breath, once again trying to get his attention. Which was becoming a difficult task for both of you since you were sitting on his desk, legs wide surrounding his waist as he nestled in your neck. “Sylus… I gotta- I gotta go,”

He hummed, acknowledging your words but not moving a muscle to do as you said. He has been toying with your collarbone and neck for a while and you weren’t complaining before, but the reminder for your appointment already rang twice.

“You’re not really stopping me either, kitten,” the buttons of your shirt began to pop one by one as Sylus descended to your chest. His lips nibbled at your already tender skin and your frustration began to grow… your breathing became heavier… your hands gripping Sylus’ jacket…

When suddenly he halted his movements. Leaving a final kiss on your temple, he began to fix your clothes as if nothing happened.

“I think you’re right, let’s get you to the hospital,” in a daze, you tried to regain some composure.

A smirk played at the corner of Sylus’ lips as he accompanied you to your bike, wishing you a safe ride. He added that you should let him know once you arrived at the hospital.

“These don’t look like something a wanderer would make,” Zayne inspected the marks around your neck and down your chest. They were a bit more prominent around the area where the stethoscope should go.

You sat there, listening to Zayne’s words— completely and utterly mortified once realization hit you. You had left in a hurry, forgetting the small situation you and Sylus had been in.

“It’s not what you think—“ you began to explain but Zayne cut you short.

“Sure, then enlighten me, please,” sarcasm dripped from every word Zayne uttered.

“It’s… it’s… it’s iron deficiency.” you spoke under your breath. It was the first thing that came to your mind and quickly regretted it, mentally facepalming yourself.

“You know I’m your doctor, right?” Yeah, you knew and that’s why you internally cringed at his rebuke.

“Then as my doctor, you should know,” but, of course, you wouldn’t back down at this point.

With a deep sigh, Zayne quickly took his notepad and wrote down a few lines.

“Okay, then. For your iron deficiency.” He handed you the note which you put in your jacket without checking it. You just wanted to leave fast and pray so that Zayne could forget everything that just happened.

Once you left the hospital you finally felt like you could breathe. As you walked towards the parking lot, you pulled the prescription and your eyes widened as soon as you read what he wrote. Even your step faltered. He did not just prescribe you, contraceptives. That wasn’t even his area of expertise, you thought as you crumbled the paper, fisting it and aggressively shoving it down your pocket.

Once alone, Zayne couldn’t help but go over your visit again and again.

“What is she dating? A leech?” The doctor sighed, hunched over his desk as the whole situation passed through his mind for a fifth time. Debating whether he should be concerned or not.

Step 2: Dig the holes and add the concrete

Balance is the key to everything, right? So that’s why Sylus suggested that he can stay in your place too. Closer to your work and everything you own is there. He doesn’t mind, on the contrary, it’s lovely to be surrounded by your presence all the time. He finds you in the little details scattered all over your apartment and thinks it’s cute. Very you.

Xavier, your neighbor and fellow hunter, has begun to notice things too. Things about you and well, your private life. How could he not, even your trash had doubled.

Xavier noticed that it’s no longer just your stuff that’s lying around your apartment. Every time he asked to borrow something or meet for the monthly neighborhood meeting, there was more stuff at your place.

He took notice of the new pair of indoor shoes at your entrance, too big for your feet. The dark coat at your hanger and the leather jacket on your kitchen’s stool. All men’s size.

Xavier could even smell a faint new perfume all over your place too, and it wasn’t yours. He also heard the other neighbors gossiping about Y/N’s new handsome “friend” who visited quite often. How come he has never seen him?

Today wasn’t any different for Xavier. He just came to ask if he could borrow some eggs since he already burned the twelve-pack he got at the convenience store in the morning. So why? why were you cooking for more than one person and had the whole table ready for what seemed to be a romantic dinner?

He watched you roam around your fridge in search of the eggs and couldn’t help himself. His curiosity was killing him.

“So… you’re making dinner for two?”

“Ah!” You exclaimed, hitting your head against the fridge door. His question took you by surprise. “Yeah, cooking is not my forte but alas.”

“Tell me about it,” Xavier felt bad. The bump in your head that would probably begin to grow any moment now showed how little you wanted to talk about your dinner plans.

So he took the eggs, thanked you and left.

At his apartment, he noticed the brand of eggs wasn’t the usual one you always got. This one was more expensive. Yeah, he was sure you had someone else living there and yes, for some reason that irritated him a bit.

Step 3: Attach, cap and stain

“Ah, my boss wishes to acquire this piece for his girlfriend.” The guy buying Rafayel’s painting had sent a representative. It was not unusual but it was extremely boring.

“I think that’s very romantic, don’t you think?” Thomas added. He had to because Rafayel didn’t seem to be interested in anything they were talking about.

But now he realized that he should have paid attention.

Rafayel barely remembered the words of his latest transaction. How eager Thomas looked because the buyer had offered triple the amount of the original price. Now Rafayel stood shocked, seeing his own painting on your wall never crossed his mind. Especially the one he sold to be a gift for someone’s girlfriend.

It was a pretty small frame, something he did on a whim so what the hell was it doing here? And not at the supposed girlfriend’s house? This wasn’t right.

“Hey—Y/N!” He frantically called you over, “Y/N!” Again, he shouted like he was being murdered.

“Rafayel just a second—“ you were looking for your guns. Sylus had cleaned them earlier but you didn’t know where he put them.

“No! Why is this painting here?” He was about to hyperventilate and burn down his own painting.

“I swear if you say it’s ugly, I’ll smack you,” you said, walking out of your room and joining him at the entrance of your place.

“That’s not it! It’s mine!” He pointed an accusatory finger at the framed painting.

“Clearly not, because this is my place, last time I checked.” You frowned at his outburst which by now you were used to, but not… exactly like this one.

“That’s not— I mean I painted it!” Frustration was clear in his voice as he placed his hands on your shoulders and shook you back and forth.

“Ah… well, that’s go— wait what?!” You widened your eyes as you processed his words.

You were going to kill Sylus. But first, you needed to calm Rafayel down and then find your weapons.

Yes, nobody knew you were dating the head of Onychinus but they all sure knew you weren’t in the market anymore.

And that’s how Sylus fenced his property in just three steps.

Extra:

Luke and Kieran have never seen Mephisto so tired. What kind of mission had the boss given him? There wasn’t any super important job at Onychinus today.

The twins took pity on the crow. It seemed to be missing some feathers too.