#case western reserve

[meganwhalenturner]

So, last November I got to try my hand at Alchemy

Maddalena Rumor, in the Classics Department of Case Western Reserve University came to have dinner with us and mentioned she'd just successfully turned silver gold.

She had an alchemical recipe from a 7th century BCE cuneiform tablet from the library of Ashurbanipol. She'd been working with Rekha Srinivasan, from the Chemistry Department to see if they could translate the cuneiform, identify the substances mentioned, and then try the recipe to see if it worked.

They traveled to the British Museum to examine the tablet up close. By studying the partial strokes along the edges, Maddalena could make some educated guesses about missing words. Rekha, in turn, could use the descriptions of the substances to make some guesses about what they might be. Then they could start testing their best guesses with experiments.

This is complicated by the tendency of alchemical texts to use code words or inside jokes to describe materials or techniques. Something like me making a recipe that calls for 2 Legs and 1 Arm of Policeman and my friends all knowing it means 2.5 ingots of Copper.

I know the word alchemy comes from the Arabic al-kimia and that it eventually developed into chemistry, but I've always associated it with the worst of the Dark Ages in Europe--charlatans or wannabe magicians in smoke-filled, poorly lit cellars full of of mummified animals and just generally gross stuff that is not my jam.

I'm wondering now if that's because medieval alchemists were reading a lot of things literally that weren't meant to be taken that way. There's a reference in one of Maddalena's article's to a rare case where "human excrement" called for in a recipe is revealed to actually mean "garlic." I can see a lot of ancient alchemists laughing up their sleeves.

I had just learned during a trip to Naples the previous summer that the alchemy of Renaissance philosophers like Pico Della Mirandola was very different from the stuff in the basements of Prague. Instead of dreckapotheke, they were translating texts from the Ancients Greeks, texts that were perhaps based on the very tablets from the 7th Century BCE that Maddalena was studying. I promptly begged to observe her next experiment.

She very graciously said yes, so I went down to a lab at Case and I wish I had taken better notes, but I did not, so what I've got is a bunch of pictures, and I'll have to go back and badger Maddalena for details.

These are the ingredients for the next round of testing.

They will be mixed into a solution in the flask on the right and then heated on a burner.

Then silver tablets will be dipped into the solution:

And turn gold!

Not *into* gold. That was not the plan. Hope you aren't disappointed.

If you thought the object of alchemy in those dark basements in Prague was turn to lead into gold, yeah me, too. And maybe it was, but the alchemy of the ancient Near East seems to have been more clear that transmutation wasn't on offer. After reading some of Maddalena's articles, I now know there were four main practices of alchemy back in the day: coloring silver gold, making a silver alloy that still looked like silver, coloring glass to look like precious stones, and dying wool purple without using those expensive snail shells from Tyre.

I talked about alchemy a lot (really, a lot, everyone was very patient) at a recent writing retreat. Erin Bow called it the Science of Knock Offs.

There are multiple ancient sources that say that this "holy and divine art" (hē hiera kai theia technē) was taught to mankind by fallen angels who were sharing the secrets of heaven. I know it seems ridiculous that an all knowing divine being is going to focus on the Secret Science of Knock Offs, but the more I I think about it, the more I can see it.

ARMUMAHEL: We will share with you the great mysteries of heaven!

MANKIND: . . .

ARMUMAHEL: I can save you some money on purple dye.

MANKIND: YAY!

SAMYAZA: So how did the secret sharing go today, Armumahel? Did they ask about the language of birds? The control over monsters of the deep?

ARMUMAHEL: I told'em how to make glass marbles look like sapphires.

SAMYAZA: You do know Enoch is writing all this down. His book is going to be stuck in the apocrypha and we're going to be laughing stocks.

ARMUMAHEL: I promised to tell them tomorrow how to turn silver gold.

SAMYAZA: Ah! Transmutation of matter! That's a good one!

ARMUMAHEL: No, not transmutation. They just want the silver bowls on the alter to be yellow and shiny.

SAMYAZA: . . .

My shiny yellow tablet. : )

[recreation-law]

Goss v. USA Cycling, Inc., 193 N.E.3d 599 (Ohio App. 2022)

Goss v. USA Cycling, Inc., 193 N.E.3d 599 (Ohio App. 2022) 193 N.E.3d 599 Heather GOSS, Plaintiff-Appellant, v. USA CYCLING, INC., et al., Defendants-Appellees. No. 111084 Court of Appeals of Ohio, Eighth District, Cuyahoga County. RELEASED AND JOURNALIZED: July 21, 2022 Barkan Meizlish DeRose Cox, LLP, Sanford A. Meizlish, and Jason C. Cox, Columbus, for appellant. Marshall Dennehey Warner…

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Diamond continues to shine: New properties discovered in diamond semiconductors

Diamond, often celebrated for its unmatched hardness and transparency, has emerged as an exceptional material for high-power electronics and next-generation quantum optics. Diamond can be engineered to be as electrically conductive as a metal, by introducing impurities such as the element boron. Researchers from Case Western Reserve University and the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign have now discovered another interesting property in diamonds with added boron, known as boron-doped diamonds. Their findings could pave the way for new types of biomedical and quantum optical devices—faster, more efficient, and capable of processing information in ways that classical technologies cannot. Their results are published in Nature Communications.

Read more.

[protectcosette]

[ithrowshoesatconservatives]

i am a former student of case western reserve university, and i am appalled to learn that they have been mass-arresting pro-Palestine demonstrators

i am ashamed that i ever gave CWRU money

free Palestine, fuck case western, fuck the zionists

[coochiequeens]

There are so many people and causes that need legal help and the ACLU is helping this freak?

By Genevieve Gluck September 18, 2024

The ACLU has successfully fought to have a transgender baby killer be given taxpayer-funded “gender affirming” surgeries. Yesterday, the United States District Court of Indiana ruled that Autumn Cordellioné, born Jonathan C. Richardson, had been subjected to “cruel and unusual punishment” by being denied the various plastic surgeries he had demanded.

Richardson is currently serving a 55-year sentence for the murder of his 11-month-old stepdaughter. As previously reported by Reduxx, Richardson had been left to care for the child while her mother was at work. That night, he was visited by friends who observed he was “acting strangely” and refused to invite them in the house as he normally would.

Despite claiming the little girl was sleeping, Richardson had loud music playing in the home, and his guests noted that he appeared to have a fresh, bleeding tattoo of the child’s name carved into his arm. Shortly after his friends left, Richardson went to a neighbor’s home and asked them to call 911, claiming the child was unresponsive. The baby would later die at the hospital, with the cause of death determined to be asphyxiation by manual strangulation.

Richardson was booked awaiting a court hearing, and would later tell a prison official “all I know is I killed the little fucking bitch.” The following year, he was found guilty and sentenced to 55 years in prison.

In 2020, while incarcerated at the The Correctional Industrial Facility (CIF) in Madison, Richardson began identifying as transgender and taking estradiol, a synthetic estrogen, and anti-androgen spironolactone. Two years later, Richardson lodged a sexual harassment complaint claiming that he had been raped by his cellmate in 2005, and that he stabbed the inmate in retaliation.

Despite the brutal nature of his crime, the American Civil Liberties Union (ACLU) in Indiana took up his case and launched a human rights lawsuit against the Indiana Department of Corrections (IDOC).

In the suit, which was filed in August of 2023, ACLU lawyers refer to Richardson as an “adult transgender female prisoner confined in a male institution,” and complains that “the total ban on gender-affirming surgery violates [his] right to be free from cruel and unusual punishment under the Eighth Amendment.”

The suit was intended to challenge a recently-adopted policy stipulating that the IDOC cannot provide transgender surgeries to inmates. House Bill 1569, which took effect in July of 2023, bans the spending of state or federal dollars on sexual reassignment surgery for inmates. The bill, the ACLU argues, “mandates deliberate indifference to a serious medical need and therefore violates the Eighth Amendment.”

Among a list of demands prepared by Richardson and presented as evidence in court was a document titled “Surgeries to Reach My Ideal Self.” The first item on the list, the court heard, was a “vagina,” followed by: breast implants, a brow lift, a brow reduction, a tummy tuck, gluteal implants (BBL), a uterus transplant, hair removal, and wigs.

However, during court proceedings Richardson stated that he had amended his demands to two surgeries, an orchiectomy and a penile inversion.

In addition to identifying as transgender, Richardson identifies as “Muslim,” and is currently engaged in a separate lawsuit against his prison’s chaplain for being denied a hijab.

During his deposition, Richardson told the legal counsel for the IDOC, Alex Carlisle, that in 2018, he had been informed about gender identity by another male inmate at CIF who went by the name of “Pearl.” According to Richardson, Pearl had brought in pamphlets from California state prisons that explained the concept of “gender identity” and introduced to him, for the first time, the idea of taking feminizing hormones.

“I always knew I was a girl, didn’t know that term applied. Because until I talked to Pearl I didn’t even really know transgender was the name for it. I was hearing at the time that it was transsexualism and that didn’t seem to fit me because it was apparently people that like to wear girl clothes to have sex,” Richardson said in his deposition.

However, Richardson also stated that while briefly married to the mother of the infant he murdered, he had been working in an “adult bookstore” that sold pornographic videos. While employed as a janitor, Richardson would have sex with various male customers while pretending to be a “girl.”

Richardson further testified that he had taken the feminine name “Autumn” after his high school girlfriend, and said that he used to steal his sister’s clothing and his mother’s makeup as a youth. “When I put on the clothes, I could for a second realize the girl inside,” he said.

“I felt I was only a woman when a man used me,” Richardson remarked. “It was the only acceptable time to be a woman so it brought me a certain amount of satisfaction that I was pleasuring a man like a woman would and I got to express who I was.”

But the mother of the baby girl Richardson strangled to death opposed his legal bid to obtain surgery. Linda Thomas submitted a brief statement expressing her concern that his identity may be concealed from her when he is released from prison.

“On the day he murdered my child, I personally observed Plaintiff with a fresh bleeding tattoo of my child’s name on his arm while I was at the hospital that evening,” Thomas said. “I live in fear for myself and my children of the day [Richardson] is released from prison, which largely increases at the thought that [his] identity may be concealed upon release.”

ACLU attorneys under the leadership of Kenneth Falk attempted to have Thomas’ testimony dismissed as court evidence on the basis that “Ms. Cordellioné objected to the relevance of this declaration.”

During court proceedings, Kate Meltzer, a legal representative for the Office of the Attorney General, emphasized an issue of “timeliness” related to Richardson’s attempts to secure an early release.

On January 4th, Richardson had lodged a pro se request seeking a reduction of his sentence. According to Meltzer, Richardson’s request claimed that the “circumstances that resulted in the crime are no longer present,” as the motivation for the murder of the young girl was “tied to [his] transgender identity and [his] gender dysphoria.”

The court also heard testimony from Stephen B. Levine, a psychiatrist who specializes in sexual dysfunction and transsexualism, who founded the Case Western Reserve Gender Identity Clinic in Cleveland during the 1970’s. Levine was Chair of the fifth edition of the World Professional Association for Transgender Health’s (WPATH) Standards of Care in 1998. He also served on the American Psychiatric Association DSM-IV Subcommittee on Gender Identity Disorders.

In March of this year, while the case was ongoing, Levine emailed the Attorney General’s counsel Alexander Carlisle pleading with him to empathize with Richardson. According to Dr. Levine, Richardson’s condition “is a product of the need to find coherence, consistency, and stability”. The “countless traumas” experienced by Richardson, the gender clinician said, “began with her birth (actually with her pregnancy)”, indicating his belief that a transgender identity develops in utero.

As noted in court documents, in recent years Dr. Levine derived between 40% to 50% of his income from serving as an expert witness in litigation regarding the treatment of patients with “gender dysphoria”.

The ruling issued by Judge Richard Young on September 17 has far-reaching implications and sets a precedent for further surgeries and hormones to be doled out at taxpayers’ expense. The verdict declares that the statute added to Indiana’s legal code in 2023 barring the DOC from facilitating “medically necessary gender-affirming” surgeries for inmates qualifies as “sex discrimination.”

In a statement on Richardson’s legal win, ACLU of Indiana Legal Director Kenneth Falk said: “Today marks a significant victory for transgender individuals in Indiana’s prisons. Denying evidence-based medical care to incarcerated people simply because they are transgender is unconstitutional. We are pleased that the Court agreed.”

The ACLU has pursued multiple lawsuits in several states against the US prison authorities on behalf of men convicted of horrific crimes. As revealed by Reduxx, a 2019 ACLU lawsuit against the New Jersey Department of Corrections which required the state to allow violent male inmates to self-identify into the Edna Mahan Correctional Facility for Women was lodged on behalf of a self-admitted diaper fetishist and convicted terrorist.

Last year, the ACLU of Florida criticized officials for not providing “gender-affirming care” to a convicted rapist and murderer prior to his execution. Duane Owen had been handed a death sentence after brutally murdering a 38-year-old mother and a 14-year-old girl in 1984. Owen claimed that he sexually assaulted women as part of a ritual to harvest their hormones, and that he was a transsexual who carried out the sexual violence to “turn himself into a female.”

[flowerpot-records]

Sure, Machine let us re-mix and master their Live From Cleveland session! There's a limited run of tapes on our bandcamp, go pick one up

[reportwire]

Everybody loves Pi: @CWRU math chair explains the why behind the 3.14 obsession

BYLINE: Michael Scott Newswise — “A lot of people know pi through their geometry classes in school, but that’s really it—they’re not sure why it’s important,” said Weihong Guo, chair of mathematics in the College of Arts and Sciences at Case Western Reserve University in Cleveland. “In reality, pi is really the most useful number human beings have to use for so many things in the real…

[nouearth]

dancing with wolves.

pairing. glen powell x male reader.

word count. 8.8k.

summary. journeying from town to town provided glen a solitude he’d always dreamed of. however, since meeting you, it was all he could complain about.

content warning. smut, western!au, top!glen, yearning!glen, loner!glen, bottom!reader, prostitute!reader, love confession, established relationship, passionate love-making, gagging, deep-throating, handjob (r!receiving), blowjob (r!giving), spanking, overstimulation, milking, anal penetration, breeding.

Cases of whiskey and cider were stacked in a column of two. Six units per beverage, twelve in total as Glen triple-checked the count and label. Though he’d never made a mistake in his deliveries before, it was his vigilance that maintained his good repute amongst the townsfolk. His attentiveness and efficiency in deliveries allowed for trust to be built between him and the towns he’d distribute to.

Months and more, the head of these establishments he’d work with didn’t seem to mind Glen’s uptight and reserved nature. Rather, they were used to it. Penned him as ‘Gunpowder’ because of their inability to see through him, as if the smoke from deflagrated gunpowder had impaired their vision.

As long as the goods were delivered in mint condition, who was to complain that the brooding man marched right on out after receiving his payment without uttering a single word?

Not to mention, his sturdy build was a warning itself to those who’d dared.

“Nearly doubled the shipment from last time.” It was an observation noted to himself. A low mutter that the owner of the saloon caught with a smile, because frankly, the mustached man was known to run the folk’s ears off.

There was a reason why he owned a saloon, and not Glen.

He dropped his payment into his drawstring bag and tucked it into the inside pocket of his shirt. Crime was growing rampant, even in a bustling town like New Vale where a dust storm couldn’t ward off its folks from drinking into the night. Glen wasn’t sure what to make of it. Whether to call them idiots for ignoring the highly alarming signs of bandits gradually killing their way to the west, or brave for living their lives without a single regret.

One would’ve had the same vacillation between labeling Glen as an idiot or a man, for traveling 40 miles and more in his saddle, while the threat of murders loomed over his head.  “God damn, I did! Business been growin’ ever since we’d expanded to include the whores. The fellas can’t keep their hands off of them!” Glen’s ears pricked up from the way the shorter man described the main attraction to his saloon. The man was practically ascending to heaven, tugging on the straps of his suspenders to ground him to the wooden flooring while he boasted about how much of a brilliant man he was for charging patrons by the hour, and taking a percentage of a prostitute’s pay. 

All Glen could do was watch in stoic disgust while the man relished in his own pride, in his own greed.

Though, only for a few seconds before a feeling of guilt and shame took over Glen’s conscious, calling him out on his hypocrisy, on this selfish desire that all the men in the saloon had collectively shared.

He wasn’t much of a better man than the drunkard swaying in his seat, completely shit-faced with a shot glass in his grasp.

Glen tucked his hands into his pockets, leaned to the man’s ear, and lowered his voice to a hush. “The boy in today?”

Coincidentally, he felt a spare coin in his left pocket. The silver ridges scorched his skin like it had come straight from the devil’s fountain, prodding his urges.

“Should be cleaning out back, but I’ll let ‘em know you’re here. You know his room.” The man collected the single coin with a smug grin and tipped his hat. “Nice doing business with ya, and… get y’self a drink. On the house. I’m beginning to treasure your presence.” The march of his steps out to the back were resonant, even with the ragged rhythm of the piano blaring in Glen’s ears as he walked for the stairs.

- - -

The room was left as Glen remembered it.

The thin walls closed in on the oil lamps mounted on the walls. It didn’t take much to light up the room. As bright as candles could be lit, it only emphasized how truly compact the space was. Glen couldn’t imagine that no more than two men could be comfortable standing in this lodging, let alone reside in it. Luckily, Glen was a simple man. He hung his coat on the wall and took his boots off, a much needed relief from the compression at his feet, and he felt satisfied sitting on the miserable mattress. Not from the space, no. Not when he could hear other patrons like him revel in their own pleasure, albeit muffled by the thin walls.

No. It was because he got to see his boy again. Twice a month, like how it had been for almost a year now, and Glen could feel the two weeks of labor thanking him as a huge weight seemingly lifted off his shoulders. 

Traveling from town to town and shipping out whiskey and cider didn’t take much of a toll on his body like herding cattle, but it was uninspiring. Sight-seeing was tranquil, but the sun was beating down on him harder this month. It was tiring. Always on his saddle, on his feet, and now with the threat of robberies ramping, on the defensive, all without so much of a break.

It was lonely. 

And though it was his own fault, it made the moment of seeing his boy all the more special.

Touching you was even more cathartic than he’d like to admit.

Two hard knocks, a beat, then three more, and the door opened.

“You sleepin’ already, Bighorn?” You teased, chuckling to yourself when you could see Glen rise from his position as you locked the door.

Bighorn. The endearment made Glen chuckle.

Glen watched you come into the light as his elbows supported his body, legs extended to stretch the tight muscles in his thighs and calves. A button-up and suspenders, your typical attire as a novice cook. It had to be illegal to look this striking in hand-me-downs covered in flour.

“A second longer, and I would’ve demanded for a refund.” Glen quipped with a simple grin. It was all natural, his body responding to your approach by gathering himself onto his feet. You worked him in mysterious ways. Every step you took, Glen met you half-way. 

Yearn weighted Glen’s heart to match the heaviness of your boots scraping against the floor until you stopped. He stopped in his tracks after, your wide smile reflecting off of his simpler grin, and Glen remained silent, taking you all in with the removal of his hat. 

It wasn’t the first time his eyes ever tracked a man, nor was it the first time his heart ever sped up, but you had this power, this presence, that made him feel anew with the way you looked at him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing your chest close to his own. 

Surely, he knew he wasn’t going crazy feeling like his affection for you had shot up like a bull for the past month. And the month before that. 

And the month before that.

“And I would’ve made it up by makin’ sure you get the best sleep of your life. How’s that sound?” You met his eye level, unabashedly smiling wider than you had ever greeted him before. 

He felt flat, like he’d been hit by the train itself. A sharp jolt that sent goosebumps all over his skin, and it was like you read into his soul, because your hands roamed around his body, warding off the tiny prickles over his skin with a caress to his broad chest, over his forearms, against his neck.

It didn’t take long for Glen to realize you were the curator of the bumps on his skin.

“Sounds like an overpromise...” Glen chuckled along with you, his larger hands feeling up your waist, backside, then to your arse, where they felt perfectly at home in his palms. His gaze was just as curious, peeking at the collar of your shirt that revealed the smallest amount of your neck. To your lips, marveling over ruby flesh he’d often daydream about while riding across the plains.

It was becoming a routine. Where the weeks leading up to the end the month felt like the world had a vengeance against you, and this month was surely taking out its worst out on you.

“You got a haircut.” Glen noticed the shorter length of your hair, pushing it back with a swoop of his hand. He then took ahold of your jaw, maneuvering it cheek by cheek to stoically marvel over your cut.

“Was gettin’ hot. Boss man didn’t like how it collected sweat.” Your fingers worked around his collar, unfurling the fold, then folding it back into place.  “You like it?”

“I can see your face clearer. You look good.” Glen’s fingers raked through your hair once before messily ruffling it. You responded with a shove to his chest, knocking him back onto the bed with an unexpected laugh. “Guess I didn’t need to worry about whether you were eating or not. Christ, you gettin’ stronger too.”

A dull ache settled in his chest. He wanted to say something more than, “You look good.” 

No, it fit you. The trimmed hairs on the sides matched how blunt you could be. 

“You bring any gifts for me?”

“You’re sweaty, and that makes me aroused.”

“You pushing 40. That only makes me want you even more.”

“No one can fill my mouth like you do, Glen.”

On the contrary, it also framed your face like you were an angel who didn’t spout nonsense that would render him speechless. Though, he’d gotten used to that now. It made you all the more endearing, how someone could look as passive as you, have a mouth like that.

“Bastard’s been pushing more tasks onto me since business been growing. Same pay too. Man is too cheap to hire another employee. Don’t think I look any different though.” It took all the energy out of him to not sigh when you straddled his lap. He was swelling nicely beneath you, harder and thicker the more you rut your arse against him. “Or… maybe you’re just getting weaker?”

Glen rolled his eyes. “Don’t get so cocky, boy. Wouldn’t want me to beat it out of you, would you?” Your breath hitched when his palm struck down on your left ass cheek as a warning. It was effortlessly done, yet the subtle sting was more than enough to pull a groan out of you.

You brazened yourself, narrowing your eyes into his drawn gaze as you leaned closer, and pulled him halfway up by the collar. “Not if you call that a beatin’.” Your lips grazed against his, and just when Glen leaned closer, you pulled away and resumed your ruts, pushing your arse back onto his palms simultaneously.

“You gon’ regret that.” It was animalistic. The way you drove your hips into him, and the way Glen desperately responded back, groping your ass hard and pushing you flushed to his groin, to the weight of his bulge. He buried his groans into your neck, biting a patch of skin that would draw out whimpers in between your taunts. 

“I ain’t regret nothin’-“ A loud yelp slipped from your mouth. His palm suddenly came down on your ass again. Harder, like the snap of lighting had bit into your skin. It shuddered you to think that it had hurt as much as it did while you were clothed. Yet, that didn’t stop you from unbuckling and drawing out your belt, and then Glen’s. 

“That the best you got? Like a bee-sting. I ain’t impressed.” You muttered into his neck, kissing at the hot flush of skin after stripping you and Glen down to undergarments. Gradually, you worked his top off, licking and kissing every show of skin that would meet your lips, until he was deliciously bare-chested before you.

“I’ll break your damn ass if I have to.” Glen said through gritted teeth. His arms were folded behind his head, cushioning it while he watched your mouth worship every contour of his body like he was a king. Your mouth would latch onto one side of his ribs, suckling on a freckle, while the other admired his abdomen with several, drunken strokes. It took the trail of his stomach hair to pivot your mouth lower, to slip your hand into the opening of his drawers until it was inevitably full with Glen’s semi-hard cock, meaty and thick in your palm.

“You spendin’ the night?” Your ears perked up at the sound of his groans, your gaze followed the source. He was clearly desperate for more than the laze of your strokes as your grasp was loose and open, favoring to feel around his cock than against. 

“That’s what I paid for.” His hips bucked once you began massaging his cock, throbbing harder in the palm of your hand. 

“I’ll make sure it’s worthwhile, then.” With one hand continuing to knead at the tender muscle, you stripped the drawers off of his body, tossing it onto a pile of clothing in the corner.

“Look at me when you talkin’.” It came out more aggressive than he’d like it to, but your eyes lit up when he caught your gaze, a smoldering smile plastered across your face while you stroked him with your knees pressed to the mattress.

“You stressed or what? Don’t usually talk like this to me.” Stripping yourself bare, you resumed tending to his cock after, gulping at the unholy sight of the meaty tool drooling with a thick and ample amount of pre-cum that would surely stain the flooring if you hadn’t caught the sticky rope with your tongue.

You looked extra handsome tonight, Glen thought. Maybe it was the haircut working wonders on him. Making him act all crazy like he’d been bewitched. One strand of hair fell delicately over your forehead when you spat on his cock, and had your grasp around him not remind him, he would’ve forgotten to breathe.

“Just been thinking about my boy. Couldn’t stop thinking about you.” You lapped up his cock while he struggled to pour out his words. It was like molasses, the way he’d pause himself to say the right thing so he wouldn’t scare you. Coincidentally, you seemed to be enjoying the taste of his pre-cum like it was molasses as well, sucking it out him with sunken cheeks.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about filling that filthy mouth of yours with even more filth.” He hissed as you began tonguing his slit.

“Y’know how much I love the taste of your seed.” You dragged your tongue over the head, polishing it with several needy sucks, while your gaze maintained on his. One hand was wrapped around the shaft to hold Glen steady, and the other was cupped around his heavy balls, stretching and fondling the loose stretch of skin.

“I know. You like how it’s warm in your mouth, don’t you?” The grasp around his thick cock tightened. Fingers pressed into his veins, stroking the aroused muscle while your mouth worked on his glans, plump and swollen against your lips.

“And how salty it is. Taste better than your whiskey.” Sweat and musk had built up in the thick hairs of his pubic, in the crevice of his glans as you inhaled his scent. The smell of his cock made your own swollen unbearably hard.

“You like my cock too. Like how heavy it is on your tongue.” He had his fingers running through your hair, keeping any strands from obscuring your eyes as you watched him, just as he had been watching you.

“Nothing better than feelin’ my dirty mouth stretch because of the size of it. Can barely wrap my hands around your tool. My asshole struggles too, if not more.”

You loved sucking on the head. It was tender in your mouth, leaking with salt that made your tongue dance into the slit for more. It was beautiful to look at too. Every now and then, you’d slip him out of your mouth to marvel over the glistening view of his cock, swollen in your own spit.

“Yet it don’t stop you, does it? You keep sucking with that hot mouth of yours. Fucking with that tight ass of yours.” He sat up to stretch his hand from your neck and then down to your spine, repeating the affectionate gesture when he’d reach the limit of his mobility.

“Your cock is my liquor.” You held his gaze with pride, proudly slapping his wet cock across your cheek, against your lips, onto your tongue, because you weren’t ashamed for desiring men. 

You weren’t ashamed for needing Glen.

No amount of prejudice can suppress your very existence. 

“You doin’ a whole lot of talking, and not a lot of sucking.” His hand was strong on the back of your neck, massaging as if it would warm your throat up.

You purred, finding the increasing pressure on your neck welcoming as it naturally opened your mouth back up. Your tongue teased Glen for a little longer. Patience had been wearing thin, you could see it in his eyes as they hardened over the lazy trail of your tongue, unbearably sliming at the underside of his heavy cock. His grasp on your neck was clutching, pulling at your tender skin to maneuver you north and wrap your mouth back around him. But you were resisting. You were going to suck his cock on your own terms, on your own accord, flaunting your tongue over his stiffened pole to warm him up because you had all night with him.

You were beautiful like this, working your spit over his cock with your hand, while you silently leaned up for a kiss. He granted those rubies of yours a chaste peck, then another to the dried drool at the corner of your mouth, then another, a fulfilling kiss to your mouth that had drawn out simultaneous groans from the both of you because it was unapologetically more than lust.

You stroked his cock harder, to the warmth of his tongue as it slipped inside of you, keen to explore the cavern that had made his cock feel so glorious, to explore the mouth that often sent Glen into a spiral simply from his own imagination after the very minute he would depart from you.

His heart was beating, accelerating like it had soles to run on, and all it took was the palm of your hand caressing his chest in soothing swoops to ground him back to reality, to the kiss that had been broken in favor of you returning back to your original position between his legs, mouth agape and taunting as ever. 

“Only because I want you to hear what it sounds like when I’m swallowing your cock.“ With those final words, you slid his cock into your mouth without letting your gags falter you.

His cock was heavy, maintaining the girth from base to tip as you took more of him after every cycle. Tears brimmed in your eyes when you’d choke on one attempt of slotting him down your throat. Then they dripped, rolled down your supple cheeks, when you’d work yourself through your gags until your throat closed in around his tool. You’d lie there with your throat stuffed to the brim, your lips clamped shut from the very base despite the fur of his pubic hairs tickling your lips to open back up.

Your ears rattled from your conscience begging you to end your torture, but watching Glen marvel at that mouth of yours made you endure the looming threat of fainting all the more worthwhile. 

“Christ.” Drool spilled from either side of your mouth as Glen helped you stabilize with a palm to your nape. He gently pushed at the sound of your gags, keeping you situated against his groin in case you’d pull away. “You know how to make a man happy, don’t you?”

“Mmfgh—“ It was pointless responding, but Glen expected it. You always had to get the last word. The last sound. 

He maneuvered you by the neck, pulling you back then forward again, your throat making ungodly sounds around his cock in midst of doing so. Occasionally, he’d meet you halfway and thrust himself into your gags, churning the arising saliva that foamed in your mouth back down your air duct, making you choke in the process.

“You miss my cock that much, boy?”

“Mmff-guh!”

He’d pull you back just in time, his cock releasing from the tight hold of your throat like a cork barricading liquor, and you didn’t waste a single second to fill your lungs again with the arousing air.

“You gon’ kill me with that thing, bastard.” Your spit resembled fizz that would spew out from opened cider. Glen kept it to himself, but he thought you looked dashing like this. Flushed in the face, cheeks stained by dried tears, nostrils stung with sniffles, you’d collect your composure quickly after, brazen yourself as if nothing had happened, but from the tremors in your hands, you were dismantled despite working your hand on him again.

“Too much for you?” He asked, reaching over with a hand to knead at the center of your throat. Glen didn’t show many moods, but you were well aware when he was either aroused, angry, or concerned, simply by the movement of his brows. 

You lifted your chin upon the warm of his hand greeting you, grinning at the raise of the man’s brows. “I jest. Too much? Yes. But that’s the fun in it. Not knowing when to stop because I’m so addicted to you.”

“Should be a poet. You’d know how to charm people with your words.” He sighed into your mouth when he pulled you over, kissing you delicately while one hand lowered to gather his cock and yours in one hold, stroking the throbbing masses.

Glen was never too fond of feeling like this. 

This warmth that was similar to downing liquor, yet not quite as strong or as scorching as to the sensation of aged spirit burning his insides.

It was foreign. The heat liked to spread around his body, the aftermath of hot rain he’d reckon. It was steaming inside of him. Pleasant and restful while his muscles eased. He felt like those biscuits he’d eaten for morning, noon, and evening. Buttery, warm, and pillowy. 

That feeling only happened when he was with you.

It was unnerving how much power you held over him without you even realizing. How he’d weaken under the light of your smile, or even the dazed stare of your eyes, where Glen often found himself concerned with for the remaining month as the shadows beneath your eyes would grow with every visit.

You shouldn’t have that effect on him, because no one has managed to ignite such feelings inside of him. Yet you have, effortlessly so, without missing a single beat, and it was alarming to realize that his solitude had become unbearable since you’d came into the picture. 

Frightening, where his solitude would feel like abandonment had something ever happened to you.

“Poets don’t make a home.” You whispered lightheartedly before breaking into soft, hushed moans, where Glen would happily devour as you resumed kissing him with tongue, running your hands over his muscles in meantime.

“And whoring yourself out does?” He sat up, pulling away to raise a questioning brow.

It was naive of you, but Glen knew better than to lecture you in the meantime. He hadn’t seen you in a month and he wasn’t letting a simple discourse interrupt that.

You shrugged, kissing at the underside of his jaw after he pulled you onto his lap. His hands were on your hips, his cock rubbing between your ass cheeks. “No, but at least I get fucked hollow out of it.”

“Forget what I said. If your mouth is this vulgar, I can’t imagine what you’d write on paper. You’d end a famine with folks dying from shock at your smut.” Without warning, one finger slipped inside of your hole. You clenched from surprise, but eventually welcomed him in with the languid kisses Glen would provide on your neck, on your shoulders, and on your chest.

“That’s a good thing, ain’t it?” You arched forward into his embrace, pushing your ass out as Glen twisted another finger inside of you, stretching your hole with two fingers. “I saved the world…” You moaned out in a manner that sent tremors down Glen’s spine. To his cock, when he stuffed another finger inside of you, and curled deep into your resistance. “Don’t do too much. Wanna feel you.”

“You silly.” The keening sound you give out rendered him speechless, along with the dew of your body and face, thinly layered with cold sweat of your own desires. Your hands braced on Glen’s shoulders as he pistoled his fingers inside of you for a little longer. Twisting, spreading, turning, curling, throttling, until you begged for him, in whispers, in hot kisses that muffled your sounds incoherent. 

But Glen was an attentive man; tasting your tongue to feed off of your words, urging you to repeat with a smack to your ass. You would, desperate and delirious as you pushed your ass into the sting of his palm.

“Can’t take it anymore. I need you inside of me. C’mon.” You reached behind to stroke his cock with your spit, simultaneously pressing his shaft between your rump.

“You actin’ like you don’t get hollowed out daily.” Glen’s touch was tender on your cheek, holding the left side delicate in his palm, while his hips moved against your hand and grind, taunting your patience.

“Not like this. Always thinkin’ about you when someone else fucking me. They don’t do it like you.” It came out as a whine, a needy sound as you angled his wet cockhead against your pucker, dangerously pressing when you lifted your hips.

“They don’t satisfy you like I do.” A statement, rather than a query.

“They don’t...” 

Glen was good at casting doubt on people. 

Lies were often evident through the eyes. Novice liars either looked away, or stared too intensely like they were trying to convince themselves.

Your gaze yearned, lingered in search for Glen’s blessing. He held your gaze for a moment, catching a glimpse of stars in your pupils like he wasn’t aware that it was the candles’ doing. Getting lost in your eyes wasn’t warding off the warm feeling in his body. Rather, it began manifesting a smolder, burning more despite kissing you once to fan it away, to make the light in your eyes—the way you looked at him disappear.

He pulled away quickly to look into your eyes again. Burning now, he was burning. 

Again, his lips sealed over yours, and then he pulled back to stare.

The stars winked.

Again.

A few morphed as one, seemingly emptying the space in your pupils.

Again. 

No, Glen was wrong. They weren’t emptying space.

And again.

They were creating space.

He began witnessing the birth of a few more stars after every turn, crystal-like as they glimmered in your pupils once you smiled at his behavior. 

Glen was in silent hysteria, finding himself spiral from one look you’d given him. It was different. Completely unlike anything you’d ever spared him. It felt true. Pure. Honest.

Loved.

There was no way out. He couldn’t find a way to escape if he’d tried. Burying his face into your neck didn’t work. You smelled like bread dough, ones you’d been kneading in the back of the kitchen. Ones he had eaten and marveled over before even meeting you.

Simply closing his eyes had no effect either, as your hand was on his cock, chasing after the throbbing with patient strokes.

“They don’t.” Glen repeated after you, a confirmation into the underside of your jaw.

Glen was never a man who lost. At least, he never lost without putting up a fight. When he spared you one more glance at the sound of your groan, he felt himself crumble and completely melt. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel it. Feel himself melting until all that was left was for bone to be rattled with as you sank yourself back onto his lap, hands braced on his shoulders while you welcomed his cock inside of your cavity, inch by inch

“You’re an angel, y’know that? Every time I see you, I feel like my sins been washed away.” Glen ran a finger along your taut rim, marveling over the way you looked right now, bouncing on his cock, over his lap, your cock swinging in for the ride. He harbored his moans into the crook of your neck, fogging your skin with the warmth of his breath, until you’d break into cold sweats.

“Ironic, ain’t it? What loving a man can do?” You groaned and grunted with exertion as you worked your way lower in tiny thrusts. “They don’t make love to me like you do, just as I don’t make love to them like I do for you. ” You confessed with conviction, and let gravity weigh you down onto Glen’s cock, taking him into your sturdy body. “Only you.”

Glen didn’t hear that right, did he? Loving someone? It was difficult to concentrate with the way you were working his cock. It was a glorious feeling being back inside of you, compact and warm like how he’d remember breaching you. 

You felt so stretched, uncomfortably yet pleasantly filled when you’d lift your hips until only the cockhead remained, and rammed his cock back in with a strong drop of your ass. Your forehead rested on Glen’s, and you could feel every puff of breath he’d exhale. Hear the restraints in his panting as you tied your arms around his neck, and let your weight push him flat onto his back, properly straddling him. 

“You love me? What you talking ‘bout?” He didn’t have the will to stop you. You were so eager, absolutely high on your arousal as you rode his cock with desperate rhythms, but he needed to address the revelation, for his sanity. 

First off, you beat him to the punch. Had it originally played out in his mind, Glen was the one to confess about his feelings, not you.

“What? I-I ain’t say nothin’ ‘bout that.” It must’ve slipped. You didn’t know when, or how, or maybe Glen was a mind reader because you definitely didn’t say that, did you? You rocked your lower body in quicker ruts, hoping it would distill any remaining questions, and looked off to the corner, silently cursing at yourself.

“You’re lying.” His grip on your hips was sudden, making you come to a pause.

“I ain’t lyin’—“ Your brows furrowed, exasperated at the interruption. Luckily, Glen’s cock was still hard inside you, somehow throbbing even more as you witnessed something clicked within him.

Glen took ahold of your body, arms secured around your waist, before stepping off the bed and carrying you to the lone rocking chair in the corner of the room. “So, you hate me?” 

“What? No, I don’t hate you. You—I—Glen, put me down.” You groaned when Glen sat down on the chair, the position driving his cock impossibly deeper into your body.

He refused despite your attempt in wriggling yourself free. You were strong, but Glen was stronger, tightening his arms around you. “Then what is it? I want to know how you feel before I feel like a fool for loving you too.”

Though, not like he had to hold you with much strength considering your bewilderment stunned you in place. “What? You love me?”

“You tellin’ me you don’t know? What was all that “makin’ love” speech about?” He was just as perplexed as you were. His chest felt heavy with disappointment. He’d been overthinking it, hadn’t he? Glen was a liar, someone who tried to convince himself of the impossible. 

“It felt like you were making love to me. Don’t mean that I thought you actually did.“ 

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

A deafening silence as you two stared at each other. You were about to leave his lap, only for him to bound you back to him at the last second.

“Well, I do. I love you.” Glen stated matter-of-factly, a peculiar tone to his official confession, you couldn’t help but chuckle at it.

“Bighorn…” You sighed, surrendering into his arms with the slouch of your body, your chest colliding onto his. Frankly, the thought of being with Glen made you happy, yet nervous at the same time. “You know it don’t matter whether I love you or not. Nothing is gonna happen beyond this. Nothing can happen, unless you wanna risk your life. Mine too.”

“That’s something I’m willin’ to do. I’ve risked my life traveling plains, through towns, carrying expensive liquor. Nothing I won’t do for you.” Your heart felt like a pond with thrown rocks skipping across the surface of water.

“Absolutely not, and that ain’t the same. How you gon’ love me when you’re ten feet underground because of the fact that you love me?” You crossed your arms, frowning at his persistence because… well, it was working. More rocks began breaking the solitude of the pond.

“From the heavens, hopefully. Can leave you with my horse. Got a ranch back at home too. Can leave you with that. You’d have a house like you’d always wanted. Carry on with my business.” Pure dreams. That was all they were. Dreams.

“That’s only if I ain’t buried with you, Bighorn.” As much as you seemed resistant to Glen’s imaginations, you found yourself picturing a better life for you as you buried your head into his neck, listening to his tales. Living on a ranch like he’d described. Cattle and sheep would run free while you struggled to keep up with Glen as you joined him on this new lifestyle. It would be hard work, but by dawn, you’d slip into bed with Glen after dinner, and deem that it was all worth it in the end.

“At least we’ll be together, one way or ‘nother.” He kissed you at your neck, laving your skin in the weakest kisses, almost like he was beginning to surrender to your defiance. “So, you love me? You love me too?”

“I—Bighorn—Glen…” 

He’d come a long way since you’d met him. Describing him as quiet was an understatement. He refused to make small talk when you led him into this room for the first time. It was a quick exchange, a shameful one as Glen power walked out of the saloon without sparing you a single glance. Now, he often spent nights with you, refusing to let go of you even in the deep of his slumber. In retrospect, you could’ve left when you had the chance. You had many opportunities even, to find a better life in the next town, and the next.

The thought of having Glen disappear from your life felt like death itself, so you didn’t, knowing that he would eventually down the line. 

A year later, and he hasn’t. 

Love makes you do crazy things. 

“You know I love you, Glen.” You rubbed his chest sweetly, forewarning him of the disappointment you’d never relieve him from. Tears formed at your waterline, threatening to leak, so you pressed your face deep into his neck, wiping them against his skin. Your heart felt heavy, like it wanted to burst out of your chest to stop you from pushing him away. It would’ve killed you, but at least it would’ve saved Glen the disappointment. “I love you too. I’m glad we sorted that out, but we—”

“No, stop. No more. I love you.” He cut you off with a sudden kiss, whispering into your mouth after. “I love you, and I need you, you understand me?” His palm was back on your rump, kneading at the tender, yet toned flesh, while the other hand pressed his growing erection back to your pucker again, prodding. “No more buts.”

“But—“ Your breath hitched when he slid himself in again, stretching you out like before, yet it felt like an endless slide, digging all the way into the deepest part of your body, like Glen was going to cradle your heart, until he was rooted deep inside of you, balls flushed to the cleft of your ass.

“(M/N), I’ll take care of ya. Whatever happens, I’ll take care of it, you hear me?” Glen cradled your head, kissing at your cheek while you returned to burying it in between his shoulder and neck. “Let me see you.”

“H-hmm, m-mhm—“ His cheeks burned as you made those wanton noises in midst of revealing yourself before him. Flushed in the face, cheeks stricken with tears; one would’ve mistaken you to be ill. Though, in a way you were. You’d been struck by incurable illness that was love.

Glen clicked his tongue, frowning in wonder. “So, so, so pretty. You look so pretty.” He began thrusting into you, resuming where you two had left off. “You look even prettier now that I’m making love to you, you know that?”

“You love me.” You bit your lip, holding back moans because you needed to hear it from Glen again, hear of his devotion for you.

“I love you.” He whispered through grunts, spreading your ass cheeks wide, and you pressed your body forward, arching your ass out as his thrusts ramped up. His cock slammed up into you with raw passion, devoting his remaining strength to holding your ass up, and making himself work for you, all in the name of love.

“I love you.” You repeated between needy whimpers. You soon began to bounce up and down, hands braced on Glen’s shoulders, while you joined his thrusts with your own movements, meeting him halfway. His large cock reared you from behind like a hammer to a nail, pummeling you without break, without the chance to let you breathe. 

It was rather the opposite, to knock the breath out of you. 

You watched close, mouthing at Glen’s neck, then jaw, until you reached his lips, where you’d let hungry moans delicately fall into place. Glen found you breathtaking as you lost your mind with primitive lust. 

“You belong to me, you hear me?” Glen said simply, his features calm. “No one else fucks you like I do.”

Your arms tightened around his neck for a hug. Glen seemed absolutely serene in his love, with you on his lap, fucking yourself into his cock. On the other hand, you were absolutely wrecked. Glen was fucking you harder, knocking guttural moans out of you on each thrust. Your own hole clenched when Glen lifted your ass up, pulling his cock completely out of you until you were squeezing nothing but warm air. He’d expertly dip a finger inside of you, to feel how stretched you were, play with your rim because of how swollen it had gotten, before stretching you back to capacity as he brought you back down on his cock, and onto his upward thrust.

“No one makes love to me like you do.” You panted through his batter, each syllable of word rattling in volume as you had absolutely no sense of it. Glen hummed in agreement while he fucked your ass and jerked your cock all at once. He was taking care of you.

You knew what he meant in the long run; tending to your injuries if you’d happen to fall off his saddle, hosing you down with water when you’d take a dive in the lake, feeding you the last bit of his biscuit because he never liked seeing you hungry. A life far from neglect as Glen had made you realize that you and him shared the dream.

But for now, he was taking care of you. Meticulously so as Glen remembered all the spots that made his tongue taste sugary when you’d moan in his mouth. Glen’s thumb caressed your frenulum, using the pre-cum your cockhead had been spitting to slip his touch in the tightest crevices. The pad of his thumb sailed smooth over the neck of your glans, flicking, pressing, rubbing at the swollen flesh of skin. You sounded so sweet and looked so serene under Glen’s touch, a complete antithesis to how you’d normally present yourself.

Glen was familiar with the roll of your eyes; from the way you’d interact with displeased customers at the bar, or from his demand to hold you throughout the night. But would you hold it against him if Glen revealed that he preferred seeing the whites of your eyes from being fucked impeccably in the ass? With his thick cock, battering your insides until you’d remember the shape of his cock? The motion of it all, digging deep into your ass, into your guts, pummeling through your need to clench hard around him, failing to pause him from hitting that sweet spot, or else you’d spill. Your hands curled into his chest as they were braced on the sweaty surface, and you’d never felt so desired, especially with your reflection in the vanity staring right back at you, providing you a simple glimpse of how beautiful you looked to Glen.

You’re a dirty bastard, Glen reckoned you’d confront him with, only before bending over the mattress and spreading your ass cheeks for him. You lucky that I’m as well, Bighorn.

No. No, you wouldn’t hold it against him. 

You were perfect.

“Close.” You warned, then dropped your head lower to kiss him on the lips, spilling your moans into his mouth in midst. 

Your hips bucked into his fist while simultaneously rocking back into Glen’s cock. His hold on you was secure, clutching to keep you as close to him as possible. You toyed with your nipples, pinching and tugging on them, and Glen accepted those gestures as a silent invitation for him to wrap his lips around one nub at at a time, suckling on the perky bud until you’d gone swollen. You’d join his lips for another kiss in gratitude, thanking him with your tongue as it explored his warm mouth, licking into his panting, his grunts, his devotion for you. You swallowed his spit after, and your fate with Glen was sealed and optimistically beyond your control.

“You look like an angel right now, but your hole’s the devil. Squeezing around my cock like this, holding me so tight like you’re afraid I’m ‘bout to pull out of ya. Christ, you’re so tight. You my dirty angel. My sweet devil.” His hand had abandoned your cock in favor of taking your ass into both palms and spreading them like before, fucking his cock up into you.

Your eyes shared pleasure with his, only your pupils had seem blown since he’d started angling his hips in a way that sent tremors to your body. With your cock in your hand, you gazed down at Glen with dazed passion, lips parted to warn, yet only little sounds had come out instead. “Glen. Christ—“ His cockhead tickled your sweet spot at first, a brief brushing that you didn’t think much of other than the fact that it made your body tremble. But Glen persisted, shifting his body against your gorgeous, helpless, and needy body, and fucked your tight body with force, teeth-bared, sweat beading on his forehead. Your mouth fell open, and your face slackened with unadulterated pleasure. “Damn you, I’m gonna come—“

Glen shuddered, witnessing your gaze blur in and out in an attempt to focus on him as he was on the brink of his control himself. “Do it,” he urged you. “I want you to. Come from my cock. Gonna come too, inside of your hole.”

You wailed when Glen’s strong thighs slammed into your sweaty ass. A thunder of delicious sounds: your wails and his growls, the bruising smacks of flesh to flesh, the hard rocking of the chair, scraping against the floor; they created a symphony that was nearing a crescendo. Faster. Harder. Deeper. Glen pounded up into you, and your ears blared with sounds of Glen’s pleasure. Your fist pumped your cock until your forearms began to burn, veins pulsing through to power you to your high.

He was gutting you, hollowing your hole out until it would recover just in time for his next visit. You’d remember him for the remaining weeks, his cock pummeling you until your melodic cries had shifted from want to euphoric need.

“Glen..!” You yelled.

Glen kissed you deeply and bit your lower lip, one hand steeling you by the nape to hold your forehead to his. He doesn’t plan on letting go. Watching you like this, submerged in unconditional pleasure, was just as gratifying as hammering into your prostate. “You feel so good, angel. Look at you. Look at that pretty smile, you’re so happy to be filled with my cock. 

You were so full of cock, of Glen’s cock, and you cried from it. Cried from how Glen was taking care of you so well, back to fisting your cock, kissing your neck, pounding your insides out.

Love has never felt so good.

Finally, you came with an arch of your back. Glen’s fist released just in time for thick and heavy ropes to splatter on his chest. Glen stiffened, his eyes daring back and forth between the exhilarating expression on your face and the obscene visual of your cum flooding Glen’s fists as he wrapped his hand back around you, and worked you through your orgasm.

“M-mmfgh, come inside— Need it. I need you.” With your eyes on his, you leaned down to kiss him and take his hands into yours for balance, raising them over his head. They were sticky shut from layers of your cum, but that only made it more thrilling as you rode him. You lifted your hips and brought it down without a single pause, burying his cock inside of you to the hilt.

“Angel, fuck— I’m coming.“

You swallowed his growls, warnings of the inevitable, yet you accelerated like you didn’t hear, slamming your ass down repeatedly, chasing after his high. His hands suddenly grasped hard onto yours, sponging cum out from the locked hands and letting it trail down your arms, and his hips bucked. You could feel his thighs flex, see rapture possess his very being as his gritted teeth no longer could contain the trumpeting sound of his moans, his muscles pulsing. With one more press of your ass, you buried Glen’s cock and felt him come inside of you. Heavy and thick as his hot seed stained your walls. Creamy like butter, when you slowly milked him inside of you with gentle rhythms of your hips. It felt sublime, having your insides contain Glen’s devotion for you.

“You the devil himself…” Glen groaned and his body twitched as you emptied him of seed, stopping once you were satisfied. He then released your hands to embrace your waist, letting you slump into him with relief. Your head rested on his shoulder, and your eyes closed shut.

“You really mean it? You’d wanna live on a ranch together, or something?” You asked, feeling his heart come to a calm with your palm providing soothing strokes to his chest.

“Have I ever lied to you?” He turned, pressing his nose to yours. One hand caressed the small of your back, and occasionally would fondle your rump. Warm and plump in his grasp, he couldn’t help that he was in love with every aspect of you.

You thought about his question for a moment, pursing your lips before shaking your head. “No.”

“Then that’s your answer.” He assured with a kiss to your lips. “We ain’t gotta do it now, or the next month, or the month after that. When you’re ready. Just wanted to know I want a future with you.”

“Me too...” You muttered, playing with his chest hair to distract the sudden conflict you’d been harboring from him. 

Silence filled the room for a moment as he watched you intently. You picked up his hat from the floor and fit it on yourself. 

“There’s that ‘but’ again. What’s the problem?” Glen chuckled, his heart racing again despite maintaining his composure. He playfully flicked the rim of his hat down, making it tilt on your head, and cover your sight line.

“Hey—You ain’t gon’ like it.” You adjusted the hat, sighing in defeat when Glen watched you with vigilance.

“What?” He sat up, making you straighten your posture in turn.

“Think the sheriff’s not gonna like the sound of me quitting.”

“You kidding?”

“Nope.” You pursed your lips again, then sighed. “He’s boss’s most loyal customer. Pays well too. I mean, I don’t know. I may be wrong, but… think he likes me beyond what I do for him. Buys me gift from the city and all.“

“Well, he’s gonna have to prove it. I ain’t leaving without a fight. Not until I’m dead, and even then, I’ll be watchin’ over ya.”

“You a mad man.”

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[recreation-law]

Ohio Appellate court upholds release for injury from bicycle race reviewing the steps needed to analysis the release by the courts.

Ohio is a state that supports the use of a release and this is a great decision to show you how to make sure your release is viable under Ohio law. Goss v. USA Cycling, Inc., 193 N.E.3d 599 (Ohio App. 2022) State: Ohio, Court of Appeals of Ohio, Eighth District, Cuyahoga County Plaintiff: Heather Goss Defendant: USA Cycling, Inc., et al. (USA Cycling, Inc. (“USAC”), Case Western Reserve…

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Rechargeable lithium-ion batteries power everything from electric vehicles to wearable devices. But new research from Case Western Reserve University suggests that a more sustainable and cost-effective alternative may lie in zinc-based batteries. In a study published recently in Angewandte Chemie, researchers announced a significant step toward creating high-performance, low-cost zinc-sulfur batteries. "This research marks a major step forward in the development of safer and more sustainable energy storage solutions," said Chase Cao, a principal investigator and assistant professor of mechanical and aerospace engineering at Case School of Engineering. "Aqueous zinc-sulfur batteries offer the potential to power a wide range of applications -- from renewable energy systems to portable electronics -- with reduced environmental impact and reliance on scarce materials."

Read more.

[komsomolka]

with time i realized imperial core citizens have two equally dehumanizing yet opposite attitudes towards countries outside of their imperialist system. mordor vs charity case. first one is reserved for the states strong and idealogically motivated enough to pose the visible danger to their status quo. russia/china/iran/etc. are subjected to gigantic amount of almost absurdist villainization because of that. second category are global south countries with weak enough position to not trigger their anxieties so they feel comfortable to play sympathetic white savoir and even admit how much their imperialism is at fault for victimizing those poor countries (but will never do the same for 'mordor' countries).

this dual tendency can be seen most visibly in regards to cuba and dprk. both are socialist states suffering under unfair western sanctions. yet there's way more international focus on lifting sanctions from cuba than from dprk. there's way more demonization of dprk too. why is such difference? in my opinion it's because unlike dprk cuba is being seen as a harmless weakling. it has no strong military, terrible economic woes which are widely reported, etc. meanwhile dprk demonstrates strong military might, if they have internal problems it's pretty contained, etc.

i personally would prefer being feared by the first worlders than pitied by them any time.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

hello! could I ask for a list of cat breeds(not all, but generic and well-known breeds)? along with their personalities and health issues linked with each breed.

Writing Notes: Cats & their Personalities

Some cat breeds are closely associated with specific behaviors.

Ragdolls - often viewed as relaxed, friendly and affectionate.

Russian Blues - considered more intelligent and reserved.

But a new study published in the journal Scientific Reports is the first academic paper to investigate whether felines actually show breed differences in behavior and how, or even if, these traits are passed down from one generation to the next.

As Nick Carne writes for Cosmos, researchers from the University of Helsinki drew on data detailing around 5,726 cats’ behavior to identify patterns among breeds and gauge heritability.

Overall, the team found that different breeds do in fact behave in different ways; of these behaviors—including:

activity level,

shyness,

aggression and

sociability with humans—around half are inherited.

The starkest differences among breeds emerged in the category of activity.

The smallest differences, meanwhile, centered on stereotypical behavior.

Prolonged or repetitive behaviors, like pacing or paw chewing, with no discernible purpose are called stereotypies.

In some cases, these abnormal behaviors are actually self-destructive.

“Since the age of about two weeks, activity is a reasonably permanent trait, whereas stereotypical behaviour is affected by many environmental factors early on in the cat’s life as well as later,” Hannes Lohi, study co-author and lead researcher of the University of Helsinki’s feline genetic research group, says in a statement. “This may explain the differences observed.”

To estimate behavioral traits’ heritability, lead author Milla Salonen, Lohi and their colleagues focused on 3 distinct breeds:

Maine Coon

Ragdoll

Turkish Van

The scientists’ full research pool included feline behavior questionnaire responses regarding almost 6,000 cats that accounted for 40 different breeds.

As Lohi explains in the statement, the team had ample data on members of the three breeds, as well as the chosen cats’ parents.

Additionally, Lohi says, the trio is “genetically diverse.”

The Maine Coon is related to Nordic cat breeds and landrace cats—domesticated, locally adapted varieties—

while the Ragdoll is related to Western European and American cat breeds.

The Turkish Van and the similarly named Turkish Angora appear to have separated from other breeds at some point in the distant past.

Salonen et al. (2019) surveyed Finnish cat owners on their cats’ behaviors, which included:

"tendency to seek human contact,"

"aggressiveness towards human family members, strangers, or other cats," and

"shyness towards strangers or novel stimuli."

In total, 5,726 cats were studied. The researchers then separated these cats into 19 breeds.

The researchers controlled for environmental factors including “weaning age, access to outdoors, presence of other cats,” and general characteristics (sex, age of cat) in their analyses.

They identified the breeds corresponding with the 10 following behavioral traits:

Aggression Toward (Human) Family Members

Most aggressive toward family members: Turkish Van and Angora (1st); Korat (2nd); Bengal, House cats (i.e., cats that are not selectively bred), Devon Rex (3rd)

Least aggressive toward family members: British Shorthair

Aggression Toward Strangers

Most aggressive toward strangers: Turkish Van and Angora (1st); Korat, Devon Rex, Russian Blue (2nd); Burmese and Burmilla, House cats, and Ragdolls (3rd)

Least aggressive toward strangers: British Shorthair, Persian Cats, Cornish Rex

Aggression Toward Other Cats

Most aggressive toward other cats: Turkish Van and Angora (1st); Korat (2nd); Bengal, House cats (3rd)

Least aggressive toward other cats: Persian (1st); Devon Rex, Maine Coon, Siberian and Neva Masquerade, Ragdoll, Norwegian Forest Cat (2nd)

Shyness Toward Strangers

Most shy toward strangers: Russian Blue (1st); House cat, Bengal (2nd)

Least shy toward strangers: Burmese and Burmilla (1st); Cornish Rex (2nd); Persian, Abyssinian, Norwegian Forest Cat, Korat, Saint Birman (3rd)

Shyness Toward Novel Objects

Most shy towards novel objects: Russian Blue (1st); House cat, Turkish Van and Angora, Bengal, European Shorthair, Siberian and Neva Masquerade (2nd)

Least shy towards novel objects: Persian, Cornish Rex (1st)

Likeliness of Seeking Human Contact

Most likely to seek human contact: Korat, Devon Rex (1st); Oriental breeds (Balinese, Oriental Longhair, Oriental Shorthair, Seychellois Longhair, Seychellois Shorthair, and Siamese), Abyssinian, Russian Blue, Maine Coone, Cornish Rex (2nd)

Least likely to seek human contact: British Shorthair (1st); St Birman, European Shorthair, Persian (2nd); Siberian and Neva Masquerade, Ragdoll, Norwegian Forest Cat (3rd)

Activity Level

Most active: Cornish Rex, Korat, Bengal (1st); Abyssinian (2nd); Devon Rex, Oriental breeds, Burmese and Burmilla (3rd)

Least active: British Shorthair (1st); Ragdoll, Saint Birman (2nd); Siberian and Neva Masquerade, Persian, Norwegian Forest Cat, European Shorthair (3rd)

Wool-Sucking Propensity

Most likely to suck wool: House cat, Norwegian Forest Cat, Turkish Van and Angora, Maine Coon

Least likely to suck wool: Russian Blue (1st); Persian (2nd); Ragdoll, Cornish Rex, British Shorthair (3rd)

Excessive Grooming

Most likely to groom excessively: Burmese and Burmilla, Oriental breeds

Least likely to groom excessively: Persian, British Shorthair (1st); Norwegian Forest Cat, Siberian and Neva Masquerade (2nd)

Behavioral Problems

Most likely to have a behavioral problem, according to owners: Oriental breeds, Persian

Least likely to have a behavioral problem, according to owners: British Shorthair, European Shorthair

Interestingly, house cats (i.e., cats that were not selectively bred) were more aggressive and shyer than purebred cats.

The researchers note that such a finding may not be due to genetic differences. Although house cats and purebred cats in the study were similar in their current environment, they could have differed in their early life. Cat breeders may be especially inclined to carefully socialize kittens as they prepare them for sale or for show.

The researchers also found that the heritability of the studied behaviors was moderate, ranging from .40 to .53, which is similar to the previously estimated heritability of behaviors among dogs. This number indicates that approximately half of the variance in cats' behaviors can be attributed to genetic variations in the population. Therefore, nature appears to play a non-trivial role in cats’ personality.

Finally, the researchers identified correlations among both physical and behavioral traits in cats.

For example, more sedentary and longer-haired cats were less inclined to seek human contact. The researchers suggest that Ragdoll breeders, for instance, may have chosen to breed calm cats that would be fine with being handled and brushed by humans. Calm cats are also less active and thus may be less inclined to seek human interaction.

Although nature matters, nurture cannot be dismissed. Certainly, the human role in a domestic cats’ disposition is significant in multiple ways, shaping both their genes and environments.

Some Common Health Issues

Least aggressive: Ragdoll - Regular vet checkups are crucial for a Ragdoll’s health, as they might be prone to certain genetic issues including hypertrophic cardiomyopathy (thickening of the heart muscle), environmental and food allergies, and bladder stones.

Most cuddly: Maine Coon - It is a native breed that developed naturally over time. Despite this, there are still some genetic health issues to watch out for such as: Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy, Hip Dysplasia, and Spinal Muscular Atrophy

Most active: Devon Rex - Hypertrophic Cardiomyopathy (HCM), Polycystic Kidney Disease, Hip Dysplasia, Luxating Patella

Least active: Exotic Shorthair - Health problems that their brachycephalic features can cause include: Jaw deformities, Breathing issues, and Eye problems; and Persian - Well-bred Persian cats can be healthy and robust. But there are still some Persian cat health issues you should be aware of: Polycystic kidney disease, Brachycephalic syndrome, Progressive retinal atrophy

Bravest: Abyssinian - They are commonly prone to: Gingivitis, Patellar luxation, Hyperesthesia, Renal amyloidosis, Pyruvate kinase deficiency

And some fun infographics I found for you:

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 ⚜ More: References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

Hope this helps with your writing!

[benzodiazepinicaa]

Alina Afanaskina!!

I see few people talking about Alina here, so after the edit there will be brief information about her case! It's a bit difficult to know and find more information because it's a russian case and I'm western (it's difficult to find russian websites, etc.)

The shooting began on the morning of December 7, 2023, when Afanaskina went to school with her twin sister Dasha. Dasha was unaware of Alina's intentions. Alina was carrying a tube-like object containing a shotgun that she had taken from her father. The school security guard didn't suspect or check Alina for suspicious items and let her freely enter the building. Before the shooting, Alina and Dasha were wearing their school uniforms. However, just before the second lesson, Alina changed clothes, putting on black clothes and combat boots, with a knife hidden in one of them. Alina then entered a biology class on the fourth floor of the school, where she pulled out a Bekas-3 rifle and started shooting in the classroom, fatally wounding 14-year-old Maria Masha Nesmachnaya and injuring five other students before committing suicide with the rifle. The entire school was evacuated and arrangements were subsequently made for the students to return home

The motives for the shooting remain unclear to this day. Alina had a good relationship with her sister, who said that Alina had no problems at home. There are theories that Alina had problems with her father. The case has not been confirmed. Alina, unlike other shooters who aim to become popular, was not active on social networks, did not publish or take photos of herself, and left no manifesto or letter. Alina was bullied at school, but many classmates reported that no one threatened her in direct confrontations. Alina was friends with the victim, but there are theories that the girls had had an argument a few days earlier. However, Alina had always been considered a strange girl by all her classmates. She was described as quiet, asocial and reserved. Police say that on Alina's computer there was a lot of research on attacks and shootings in schools, revealing a supposed admiration and fascination on the part of the girl for this, but they did not disclose what these shootings were, in order to avoid "incentives"

Alina's father was arrested by Russian politicians, who alleged negligence, easy access to firearms for Alina and even encouragement of the girl's suicide