#commander vitamin and the pill boys

[dukeoftheblackstar]

Hi Duch :3 I saw a post about your clone OC and I don't see any other posts about it. Can you tell me more about it? I think Commander Vitamin and the Pill Boys are very interesting. Not that I'm complaining about your constant posts about Plo 😅 😅 😅 

Hi ♥ ~ !!! Omg thank you ;/////; them boys be nice ♥

@saengakand I have an AU where Plo Koon gets temporarily assigned to a very problematic, rehab-fresh medics turned battle squad because they're no longer allowed to handle any medical drug due to their obsessive/addictive nature and potential high-risk foolishness turned murder if they get triggered really bad.

You know the trope; bunch of secretly murderous bebbies who are so damn polite and well-behaved, but get unhinged on drugs.

In this AU, the Wolfpack gets assigned to Pong Krell for the sake of hilarity and even more chaos.

So, Plo takes care of the Pill Boys and they jive so well because unlike the Wolfpack, they aren't shit, feral boys (I love my 104th so much). The Pill Boys are super nice.

They don't cuss.

They don't provoke.

They always ask the General's permission for anything. Anything including if they could sleep while en route to a mission, ask if they could get cups of caf for themselves, asks if they could hit the refresher after the mission and doesn't do so unless Plo dismisses them and it's adorable AF, okay?!

They are always very willing to help anyone without a second thought often getting them heavily injured. <- And this is the kicker because since they have been 'casted aside' due to their obsessive/addictive nature, they cannot be treated in medbays unattended and with proper and thorough diagnosis because they have been known to purposely injure themselves for a fix.

They are excellent marksman and most of them (I think we made them only five or six) are snipers.

All in all, THEY NICE BOYS who'd help an elderly cross the street and smoke crack right after. Which is something Plo needs to fix.

With Plo being very patient and attentive — too attentive to the Pill Boys, we made unhinged, overly jealous and loyal Wolffe get into a row with them when the Pill Boys lost Plo in a mission (he got captured but he's alright).

Some silly scenes are Plo going all "Commander" and you'll hear Wolffe and Vitamin answer at the same time. Wolffe just mad sus and Vit (Vitamin) is just good bebbi boy who looks at Wolffe, squints, and then back at Plo.

Saengak and I haven't built the squad yet, but we had Commander Vitamin ready.

Commander Vitamin (Vee-ta-min) is very level-headed like his troops. A very chill guy who'd just give you a nod if you needed anything and would do it. If you tell him someone robbed your purse, he's not about that chase life, but he'd have that thief sniped on both calves and then calmly walk towards it to apprehend it.

He'd pick up on some quirks to determine if you're lying or not, but it's not always accurate. If he fucks up because you lied to him, you best keep your windows and doors shut because this lil freak will sneak in with the squad and make 'day after yesterday' excessively inconvenient as they are not a very violent and vengeful squad.

They would:

Dump all your toothpaste but leave it blown up enough to make you think it still had the same amount from last you remember. So you end up squeezing it for minutes just to get that last itty, bitty, paste out that barely is the size of a pea.

They are resiliently patient enough to organize your laundry into your dressers and closets and replace the clean ones with the dirty ones.

They will empty your detergent bottle and swap it with bleach.

They will glue a piece of super small pebble at the end of your shoe so when you walk, you'd stop to dump the 'sand' or 'whatever it is inside your shoe that you feel'. So when you think it's all good and you slip your shoe back in? Still there.

The Pill Boys are also in possession of so much sand to use for 'retribution'. So please expect your pockets, how ever small, big, hidden, used and uncommonly used they are, to have handful of sands.

Thank yo for your interest on Commander Vitamin and the Pill Boys. Here they are with Plo (LOLOLOLOL)

Photo by @saengak

[tomorrowusa]

Trump White House staffers were apparently big pill poppers. And we're not talking about generic ibuprofen or Vitamin C.

The White House has its own pharmacy. It's run by the military because the president happens to be commander-in-chief of the armed forces. But during the Trump administration things went awry – as you might expect.

For years, the White House Medical Unit, run by the White House Military Office, provided the full scope of pharmaceutical services to senior officials and staff—it stored, inventoried, prescribed, dispensed, and disposed of prescription medications, including opioids and sleep medications. However, it was not staffed by a licensed pharmacist or pharmacy support staff, nor was it credentialed by any outside agency. The operations of this pseudo-pharmacy went as well as one might expect, according to the DoD OIG's alarming investigation report. The investigation was prompted by complaints in May 2018 alleging that an unnamed "senior military medical officer" was engaged in "improper medical practices." [ ... ] Provigil is a drug that treats excessive tiredness and is typically used for patients with narcolepsy, sleep apnea, and other sleep disorders. Brand-name Provigil is 55 times more expensive than the generic equivalent. Between 2017 and 2019, the White House pharmacy spent an estimated $98,000 for Provigil. In that same timeframe, it also spent an estimated $46,500 for Ambien, a prescription sedative, which is 174 times more expensive than the generic equivalent. Even further, the White House Medical Unit spent an additional $100,000 above generic drug cost by having Walter Reed National Military Medical Center fill brand-name prescriptions.

While they were plotting to repeal Obamacare for millions of Americans, Trump staffers were getting brand name stimulants and sedatives cheap and sticking US taxpayers with the bill.

They were handing out baggies of drugs to staffers going on trips overseas.

The staffer told OIG investigators that ahead of overseas trips, the staff would prepare packets of controlled medications to be handed out to White House staff. "And those would typically be Ambien or Provigil and typically both, right. So we would normally make these packets of Ambien and Provigil, and a lot of times they’d be in like five tablets in a zip‑lock bag. And so traditionally, too, we would hand these out. ... But a lot of times the senior staff would come by or their staff representatives... would come by the residence clinic to pick it up. And it was very much a, 'hey, I’m here to pick this up for Ms. X.' And the expectation was we just go ahead and pass it out."

Trump wanted to send the US military into Mexico to go after drug kingpins. But he was running his own out of control drug dispensing operation financed by tax money.

The Department of Defense Inspector General's report detailed how Schedule II drugs were poorly inventoried and monitored. (emphasis added)

The Code of Federal Regulations requires that registered pharmacies maintain inventories and records of Schedule II controlled substances separately from all other pharmacy records.16 In our site visit to the EEOB Clinic, we concluded that the clinic maintained the controlled substance inventory records in a binder on hand‑written paper logs, stored in the EEOB clinic’s medication dispensing area. The inventory records showed that White House Medical Unit stocked four different types of Schedule II opioid pain medications (fentanyl, hydrocodone, morphine, and oxycodone), as well as medications from Schedules III through V, such as stimulants and sedatives. However, White House Medical Unit kept the records for its Schedule II medications in the EEOB’s inventory binder together with records for all other controlled medications and not maintained separately as required by the CFR.

So the Trump White House pharmacy also included opioids which were not properly kept track of. The Trump drug mill was a microcosm for his administration as a whole.

[mariatesstruther]

thinking about maria miller having severe iron deficiency anemia!!!!!!!!!

ft. good husband tommy and, more importantly, good boy buckley

- she had really intensely cold hands and feet as a kid and would be the type to tuck them under her dad’s thighs whenever he was sitting next to her

- she was constantly, constantly chewing ice well into her teens, to the point where it drove her parents bonkers. she is partial to the crescent shaped cubes, because she is also bonkers

- she would constantly get sick with cold and flu, and currently in jackson she deals with chronic fatigue

- after she hit puberty and started menstruating, all her symptoms got more intense and she started having fainting spells. following the third, she was finally diagnosed by a doctor who cared and put all her symptoms together. from then on, she would take on iron therapy supplements

- her dad was That Guy and kept not only emergency survival packs but extra bottles of iron pills in his car, so after The Day Everything Went To Shit, maria is actually pretty set meds wise for a couple years. she basically rations them by saving them for periods when it was tough to find food

- by the time they get to jackson, she is and knows people skilled enough to be able to get her iron from the red meat of wild game

- after her father dies, no one in jackson is left to know about her deficiency—because she doesn’t tell anyone. she’s not used to nor comfortable with people besides her dad caring and worrying about her, so she doesn’t expect anyone to want to know. she doesn’t think it’s useful information for the community, so why not just keep it to herself, right??

- wrong

- tommy and jackson residents definitely find out because, one day when it was a little too hot out she just, like, FULL ON fainted while tommy’s repair group was working on a weak part of the wall. tommy caught her before she fell because he was right there flirting with her because at this point he only has a big big BIG crush that everyone in jackson can see, and everyone is like??????? YO???? MARIA??????? SOMEBODY GET THE MEDIC WTF???

- she wakes up a few seconds after and is just like “sorry yall :) happens sometimes” and everyone is like WHAT THE FUCK. MARIA. tommy and her bestie talia (dina’s older sis) very pointedly do not leave her side for like two days

- from then on, tommy and talia (along with the rest of the entirety of jackson) are on self-appointed Iron Duty. they make sure to always save her a plate of eggs because she’s always is late to breakfast due to getting caught up in with work way way way too early in the morning

- tommy remembers sarah had to start taking iron and other vitamins and shit after she started her period, too, so he knows what foods are rich in iron and works with jackson’s cooks/farmers to keep what they can get on deck

- he finds a lil whistle randomly on a patrol one day and makes a clip/keychain thingy so that she can keep it on her person at all times. he tells her very, actually seriously to “whistle for him if she’s ever feeling faint,” and it’s so stupidly ridiculous that she laughs straight in his face. still, it’s charming, she takes it and promises to use it anyway

- after they get together, tommy is the one to rub warmth into maria’s hands and feet, and heart

- he’s just there for her in all the ways a partner should be, getting to know maria so well that he can spot in an instant if she’s goin fatigued (which is useful because she’s gotten so used to working through it that it’s hard for her to tell, sometimes)

- he’s always trading for extra blankets and beanies and gloves for her, and one of his favorite things in the world is when she lets him bundle her up layer by layer and tuck her in to sleep. this is bittersweet, of course, because usually she only lets him do so on a particularly Bad Body Day

- after they get buckley, tommy trains him to to go over to maria’s feet and lay down over them on the command of “buckley, bundle up!”

- the one time maria faints after that, it’s of COURSE when she’s fresh out the shower and tommy isn’t home. buckley is, though, and he ends up sending a majority of jackson into panic on his way to tommy, barking and yowling and running faster than anyone’s seen him. he tracks tommy to whatever rando house he’s working on and leads him home in maybe 2 minutes flat. by the time he gets back, maria is completely okay aside from being a bit weak and disoriented. tommy is so thankful to buckley that the super awesome amazing very good boy gets big juicy pieces of jerky everyday straight for a month

[bokutoslittlebird]

UHMMM EXCUSE ME BUT BOKUTO X ONEE-SAN IS JUST 😳🥵. I'm a different anon from the last one but omg, is it okay to ask more??? Maybe an MSBY Bokuto now or idk what if his onee-san finally gets pregnant (if you're okay with that). Thank yoy so much!

I got like four fics where the reader ends up pregnant I’m definitely fine with writing pregnancy lmao I’ve looked it up so many times I have a notebook of pregnancy symptoms and baby delivery. I do need to start writing down baby names tho bc my computer keeps asking me when I’m expecting

Mission : Corrupting Onee-san ; Bokuto, part 3

Kōtarō was a bit upset a week after the.. incident. You weren’t showing any common signs of pregnancy.

He researched it at least six different times, expecting to match something in your behavior to one of them. Each time he realized you weren’t pregnant, it was hard on you. Well, he was hard on you. Forcing his cock into you while you thrashed and tried to get him off, only to be met with the brick wall that is your little brother. He hardly even noticed you, often off in his own delusions until after he spilled his load into you. Even then, your fucked out face and overstimulated hole always had him raring to go again, this time with his focus on how good you made him feel.

With it being a month into his stay at your house, you wondered if your family would get suspicious about it. When he told you he’d be trying out for the MSBY Black Jackals, it fell into place. That’s why he was staying at your house, with the added bonus of being there if you needed anything. From someone else’s perspective, it would seem like he was a golden child with a heart of gold. In your eyes, you just saw a monster with a goal and determination to see the goal through. Kōtarō never shied from any questions your son had, either. Answering every question quickly and maturely, as if he knew the kid would ask it. He’s able to manipulate you and your son but you can’t do anything to stop him, not when he holds power over you.

Kazuki loves his uncle, his Oji-san a lot. You know he does. He’s always enjoyed visiting your parents’ house to see Kōtarō who would tell him stories, but you find he often lets his adoration for Kōtarō blind him. In his eyes, Kōtarō is a perfect human being and can do no wrong.

“Oji-san?” Kazuki’s little head pops up from under the table. You jump at his sudden appearance, especially if he came from under the table. With Kōtarō having you firmly placed on his lap, you wonder how your son would see the situation.

“Yeah, squirt?” He still smiled at Kazuki, not seeing anything wrong with the situation. Not seeing anything wrong with the way he has a steel grip on your hips and keeps rubbing his hardening cock into your clothed pussy.

“When you both go to bed, why does mommy scream?” Your eyes widen at his question, panicking. How do you answer that? He’s so young—

“Oh! Mommy has some bad nightmares, but it’s okay! I’m there to take care of her!” Kōtarō wraps his arms around your middle, warm hands sliding along your stomach. “Isn’t that right, mommy?”

“Yes, Kōtarō, it—“ your words were interrupted with a shriek, feeling Kōtarō pinch the skin on your hips.

“Mommy, are you okay?!”

“Yes, dear. I’m fine. Uh, daddy just startled me, that’s all.” With the new situation and lack of anyone else, Kōtarō wanted to fully move into the ideal family life. Including his title. Kazuki didn’t bat an eyelash, just nodding and eagerly going to play with his toys. A present from Kōtarō.

“We talked about that, nee-san,” Kōtarō’s breath tickled your ear, a warm tongue licking the shell of it. A shiver went down your spine, feeling his bulge get harder underneath you. “Kazuki needs to see me as a father figure now. Especially since he’ll have a baby brother soon,”

“What makes you so sure it’ll be a boy?”

“I have faith. Need strong boys to protect mommy while daddy’s busy at work,” the talk of you having his offspring has him raring to go, a dark cloud covering his eyes as he ruts up against you. You find yourself face down on the dinner table while Kōtarō eagerly strips off your panties and your jeans. It’s nothing for him to pull his cock out of his sweats, eagerly rubbing the mushroom tip against your folds. Even if your mind and heart don’t want it, that doesn’t stop the slick from pooling into your panties and coating your folds. Your hole is nice and wet for him, ready for his fat cock to split you open.

“Kō, we- we can’t! Zuki-“

“If you keep quiet, he won’t know,” he hisses in your ear, his hand digging into the fat of your ass. It’s a warning to be quiet. Kōtarō usually enjoys your voice, how you scream and beg when he’s filled you to the brim, but now he needs you to be quiet since you’re on the table.

Pushing his cock into you is something he’ll never get tired of. He loves the warm feeling of your cunt and how tight your walls are around him, you’re all sticky and wet, allowing him to slide right in. He doesn’t stop, not for a moment, feeling you holding back your moans as he bottoms out. Even with your hesitance, your body knows he makes you feel good. It has him slapping his hips to your ass while he cages you to the table, pressing you down with his chest. Your nails scratch the table, trying to find something to hold on to when his hands snake up under them, squeezing while he rams into you. It’s enough to squeeze his hands while he brings you to an orgasm, his balls slapping against your clit while your walls squeeze around him, sucking him in.

“K-Kō-chan, I-“

“I’m almost there, hold on, baby,” he whispers, his mouth right next to your ear. You don’t know whether he’s talking to you or the possibility of a child resulting in this, but you find his hips stuttering, a low groan as he stills inside you. Your walls milk him dry, another orgasm as you coat him in your own release. He doesn’t pull out, keeping still inside you while you both come down your high.

“It’s Kazuki’s bedtime. I need to tuck him in,” You break the silence, squirming as the feeling of Kōtarō’s cock in you, and his cum, has become awkward.

“I’ll do it,” he presses a kiss to your hair, removing himself from you. He’s quick to pull your panties and jeans back up, keeping his cum from mostly coming out. “After all, I gotta be a good dad, don’t I?”

With Kōtarō constantly leaving the house for practice with the Black Jackals, he leaves you alone. Taking care of Kazuki was your only chore, really. With Kōtarō earning plenty of money and you having the insurance money from your recently deceased husband and daughter, you were not financially unstable. Most of your money had gone to special pills to prevent pregnancy, making sure you had one each time after Kōtarō spilled inside you. Labeled as vitamins, you easily took them all the time in front of Kōtarō as he didn’t bat an eye. They seemed to work, suspending the pregnancy as each day you turned out and took the test, only one line popping up.

You thought you were safe.

When your vitamins went missing, you didn’t know where to turn. After the table sex and the bedtime routine, you needed those pills. Looking through each cabinet, you couldn’t find it. When you asked Kazuki, he seemed innocent enough. The only possibility was that Kōtarō had found out and taken them out. You had to wait until he returned from practice before you could confront him.

When he finally popped through the door, Kazuki went to go hug him. “Oji-san!”

“Hey, hey, hey! We talked about that, squirt,” a darkness looms in his eyes, but his smile is bright and blinding.

“Sorry, daddy. I’m not used to it,” he looks downright guilty, as if he did something wrong. Kōtarō’s big hand plops on top of Kazuki’s head.

“It’s alright. You’ll get used to it eventually, especially once you have a little brother,”

“I’m gonna have a little brother?!” Bouncing on his feet, Kazuki turned to you. The smile you sported was more of a cringe, but you nodded.

“That’s the plan. Daddy, can we talk?” Kōtarō eagerly follows you, handing a new toy to Kazuki as if he doesn’t have over 20 new toys. Kōtarō doesn’t stop in front of you, rather hugging you close to him as you feel his hardened cock rubbing against your leg. “Kōtarō we need to talk. About serious stuff.”

“If it’s about those Plan B pills, I flushed them down the toilet,”

“Wha- flushed? Those were my vitamins!”

“You aren’t taking anything that risks serious health problems if you don’t take it. Not only that, you’re not under any prescription medications. From now on,” he says, voice low and commanding. Pulling from you, you look into his eyes to see something sinister in them, as if his delusion is becoming tangible. “You’ll be taking what I give to you. No more caffeine, no more wine before bed, yes I know you drink a glass while getting ready, and no more vitamins without my permission. After all, our future is dependent on this.”

With his declaration of claiming you, officially deciding to prevent anything that could stand in his way, you felt sick as you took another test, the single line being joined by a matching one. You couldn’t hide it, you couldn’t throw it away, he’d know the truth regardless. You always showed him negative results, so the test going missing would mean he knew it was positive. Kōtarō waits on your bed — his, too, now — as you weigh your options. With shaky hands, you open the bathroom door as he perks up, his face smiling as if he knew the answer already. With his hair down and still damp from the bath, you see how attractive he is, his muscles flexing as he gets up to see the result. Showing him the plastic piece, he can’t hide his excitement.

“I’m gonna be a dad! You’re gonna be a mommy! Well, we are, but this time for reals!” He’s so excited, it’s easy to find yourself smiling with him, caught up in the excitement. When he puts you down, it’s on the bed and he’s quickly crawling to cage you in. “I say this is cause for a celebration.”

“Kōtarō, what about mom? And dad? And our sisters? They’ll find out eventually, won’t they? We’ll be disowned,” your panicked voice stops him, straddling you as his hand goes to his chin. As if he’s thinking.

“Well, lets just cut ties with them. I’m a member of one of Japan’s Division 1 volleyball teams. I make enough money for us to be stable comfortably, not to mention the money you have from insurance. That way,” he licks his lips, leaning over you again, “I can have you all to myself,”

[aforrestofstuff]

What's the heroes' morning routine to start their day before going to work? Or their night routine before they're going to sleep? (And here is sprinkle of positivity vibes for you today: 😊😉👌💕💞💗💓💝💝💖💖🌟✨🍀🍀🍀🍀💐💐 Have a nice day! ❤)

Thanks for the request, anon! ❤️❤️ sorry this took me so long to get to, hope you’re still around!

Tornado of Terror: I’ve said in a previous hc that she sleep-levitates and wakes up in the weirdest places. So, she’d probably spend 10 straight minutes prying herself out of her bathtub or some shit with hella cramps. After that, she’d spam Fubuki over text message, asking her how to make a cup of coffee for the 57th time, then manage to burn it anyway, and finally go to work salty as fuck.

Silverfang: Wakes up at the crack of dawn, mediates next to a waterfall or some shit, broods over Garou, and makes himself a nice breakfast with a cup of tea. After that, he drags Charanko’s ass up the mountain to do some training, meditate some more, drink more tea, and around then it’s gonna be like 9 AM, so he’d probably just go the fuck back to sleep for a quick nap before actually going to work. Look, he’s old. Let him vibe.

Atomic Samurai: Also wakes the fuck up at the crack of dawn and proceeds to freeload a breakfast off of Iaian, wash it down with some alcohol at 6 in the AM, and complain about the weather. Then, he’d probably run over some sorta training routine with his disciples before doing group meditation and finally, finish it off with another drink. His tolerance is so damn high at this point. He shows up to work while pretending he wasn’t ten seconds away from getting wasted that morning.

Child Emperor: Wakes up rather early (if he even slept at all), runs diagnostics on all of his machinery, does tests on his latest weapons, takes 7 decontamination showers, and then makes himself a hearty breakfast consisting of Froot Loops and choccy milk. He shows up to work early and energized, running solely on his 87th lollipop and the single shot of espresso he had that morning. If it’s a weekday, he’d wait off on going to Association headquarters and teach a few classes at the local university instead. He’d then go to work in the middle of the day, grading papers and dying internally at the dumb shit his students say. He keeps a mental tally of how many people forget to write their names on their assignments. He’s suffering.

Metal Knight: Upon slapping the shit out of his alarm clock, he rolls out of bed and commands one of his bitchbots to make a Michelin-Star quality breakfast for him, then proceeds to stalk to the bathroom. He doesn’t shave or shower. He just takes a 45-minute shit because he’s forced himself to go to the bathroom once a day to “save time” when it, in fact, does not save time. After that, he takes a decontamination shower before entering his lab (also another 45 minutes because he’d spend the whole time je— nevermind) and doesn’t show up to work at all because he’s a little bitchboy hellbent on building Skynet in his mom’s basement.

King: Wakes up, cries, plays video games, cries some more, eats some cereal, takes a shower, cries, calls Saitama over, plays video games, Saitama leaves, cries. Then, he’ll show up to work for a single meeting at 4 PM just so everyone knows he isn’t dead, have an anxiety attack, go home, and then cry (while having another anxiety attack). After that, he’ll play video games until 3 AM. Rinse and repeat.

Zombieman: He’ll wake up at 3 AM and then sarcastically open his blinds like “oh wow, what a beautiful morning”. He’ll make himself a hearty breakfast consisting of leftovers, some protein pills, and half a pack of cigarettes. Next, he’ll shower, shave, and do some routine vigilante detective work out in the town before coming back home just as the sun is beginning to rise. After that, he’ll take a thirty second nap and walk his ass to work (because his car has been in the shop for like, seven years) so he can vibe for 3 hours before throwing in the towel and isolating himself for the remainder 18 hours of the day because depression.

Drive Knight: he sleeps plugged into the wall like a Samsung. Either that, or he’s solar-powered.... or maybe he runs on AAAs. I don’t know, but his ass ain’t waking up like everyone else. He’d power on, do some routine checkups on his laboratory or whatever the fuck he’s got going on, and then show up to work for 3 seconds only to dip the fuck back out and go poach some endangered monster species for his collection or some shit. Look, he’s a robot.

Pig God: wakes up at 10 AM like a king and eats a small breakfast consisting of three rotisserie chickens, a whole pot of rice, 57 eggs, and a cool glass of milk (because calcium is important, kids). He’d spend 4 hours on the internet before he gets hungry and decides to go outside, stopping to casually devour an entire species of demon-threat monsters in the middle of the street while simultaneously traumatizing every single child living in a 3-mile radius in the process of doing so. After that, he’d do some hero work for like 30 minutes (and somehow eat like, 200 living things in that timeframe), go back home, and then indulge himself in a 17-hour food coma. He’s earned it.

Superalloy Darkshine: Homie wakes up at 5 AM, works out for two hours, takes a shower, and eats a breakfast big enough to feed a small family of 19. After terrorizing every health expert in the country with his buckwild diet (ironic considering Pig God exists), he hits up his bro Tanktop Master for another 2-hour workout. He then proceeds to take 3 seconds getting dressed in his hero uniform because it’s literally just a thong, and goes to work for a full 8 hours because he’s a good boi who takes his job seriously and genuinely wants to make the world a better place. :)

Watchdog Man: wakes up, pisses on a fire hydrant, eats dog kibble, sits on his pedestal in city Q, and then gets dressed.

Flashy Flash: wakes up in a forest somewhere because he’s probably homeless. The local birds flock around him and sing a morning song. He feeds a baby deer like a Disney princess. Then, he bathes in a waterfall and spends two hours doing his hair. After that, he buys himself a fucking bagel and takes his ass to work smelling like the inside of a Cabella’s. He vibes at HQ for like, 30 minutes, before traveling 500 miles away on his 57th quest for revenge and ends up breaking a record for “most homicides committed by a hero” on the way there.

Genos: wakes up, makes breakfast for Saitama, takes a shower, and spends half an hour doing chores while Saitama bums around with a yolk stain on his pajamas. Then, he’d hit up the professor for any news about upgrades, and go on about his day handing out justice as he sees fit until Saitama suddenly gets the urge to go buy some cabbage. It’ll be another 2 hours of walking around the inside of a grocery store while holding 2 grams of food (because it’s all Saitama could afford, broke ass) before he actually goes to hero HQ for a single meeting (while Saitama tags along), and then slaughter 87 monsters on his way home.

Metal Bat: wakes up at 6 AM because it takes him 8 years to do his hair. He’d wake up Zenko about an hour later and tell her to get ready for school while he hauls ass downstairs to make breakfast (burnt toast and 8 Flinstone vitamins). They walk to Zenko’s school together. He takes ten minutes to shower her with love, and then he turns back around to walk to his own school only to show up like, 45-minutes late to his first class. He only attends hero meetings on weekends because A. Homework and B. He doesn’t give enough of a shit to juggle official hero business and school in the same day (unless it consists of a monster/criminal [or 12] in need of a beating).

Tanktop Master: same as Superalloy. He wakes up at dawn, works out, eats enough to feed a small army, and then calls his actual army over for a meeting. He and the gang discuss ways to better represent the Tanktop ideology over tea, while also sharing workout tips and just having a good time together in general. Around then it’ll probably be 8 or 9 AM, so he’d join Superalloy at Hero HQ and do hero work for the rest of the day alongside his homies. He’s living the life, honestly.

Puri-Puri Prisoner: he’s in prison so he’d wake up at 8 AM on the clock every day, eat his nasty-ass breakfast (although, I’ve said in a previous headcanon that he gets special meals prepared for him on account of being a literal superhero, but I digress), and then he works out in the courtyard for a good hour before going to work in the cafeteria for 3 bucks a day (or the yen equivalent). During visiting hours, he and his boyfriend are inseparable. They’d make some crafts together, gossip, and just hang out. If there’s a threat in the area, Puri will waste no time busting himself out and hugging that shit to death. A true icon.

Amai Mask: he either wakes up at 10 AM or 2 PM every day, there’s no in-between. He’d spend his morning doing every self-care routine under the sun: taking a warm bath, doing a face mask, eating a good breakfast (prepared by his own personal chef, of course), listening to an audio book, you name it. If he has a concert that night, he’d spend the entire day surrounded by people as he gets ready/rehearses/prepares. If not, he’ll just patrol the streets, handing out autographs and some slices of justice. He wouldn’t really show up to any meetings or do official hero business at HQ unless he’s in the mood to cuss out Sekingar and Sitch over some stupid shit or insert himself in S-Class business.

Iaian: wakes up earlier than any of the other disciples and Atomic Samurai because he’s like, responsible or whatever. He meditates, showers, does his own personal routine, and then kicks everyone out of bed for breakfast like an angry suburban mom. After that, he’d participate in everyone’s routine training, and then take his ass to work while showing up to every meeting at HQ (sometimes tagging along with Kami) because he’s a good boi and he has no problem engaging in business. :)

Okamaitachi: She sometimes wakes up with Iaian, but sleeps in most of the time because she needs her beauty rest, obviously. After breakfast and participating in everyone’s training routine, she’d do her hair/makeup and go do her own hero work the majority of the time. She’d sometimes tag along with Iaian, but she prefers to go on her own every so often. If she has some extra time before breakfast, she’ll also do a face mask or catch up on her favorite soap operas.

Bushidrill: this motherfucker sleeps like a log and Iaian wants to kill him for it. He wakes up like, 2 seconds before breakfast and hasn’t shaven in a month. Still, somehow, he manages to get ready in time for training without Kami trying to assault him for being a doofus.

Fubuki: She wakes up hella early and texts her herd of hooligans the daily plan before dealing with Tatsumaki’s shit over the phone. Then, she showers, does her hair, and takes fifteen minutes to get her makeup done right. It doesn’t take her long to plan out her outfit because she has like, 87 black dresses. After an actual hearty breakfast (unlike the rest of these clowns) that she makes herself, she meets up with the blizzard group to discuss business and engage in hero work together as a ✨team✨. She never gets asked to participate in official business by HQ because Tatsumaki strictly forbids it.

Saitama: he brushes his hair and sits on his ass all day.

Mumen Rider: wakes up at dawn, feeds the cats outside, eats a good-ass breakfast (despite being poor, because he’s actually really good at budgeting), and goes out for a nice, morning patrol. He’ll also call his mom and make sure she’s having a good time because that’s important. If it’s not a busy day, he’ll go to the gym and treat himself to some time at the park afterwards. If there’s monsters all about, he’ll spend the rest of the day in the hospital after getting his shit rocked for the 300th time that week. They’ve basically got a bed reserved for him at this point. He’s so pure but so, so selfless. And a little dumb. But mostly selfless.

[amydancepants-peralta]

Hey renee! Can you write a fic about what happens after Jake And Amy come home from Shaws? 👀 Also I love your fics! ♥

Your wish is my command, anon!  (also, @b99peraltiago‘s wish is my command, as she sent me through a prompt as well haha!)    

This one is NSFW, boys and girls! 😉

bringing the mess of me back together 

Jake’s hands feel softer than normal tonight.

It’s an odd thought for Amy to have, especially considering he’d been holding her hands in his less than ten minutes ago at the bar.  But they do - they’re softer than she remembers them being, and right now they are travelling at a steady pace along the outside of her upper thigh, and Amy’s never been more thankful that she’d pulled a dress out of her wardrobe earlier this evening.  

She chalks it up to one of the thirty-odd vitamins they’d both added to their diet, this unexpected smoothness of his skin.  Two weeks into this whole fiasco he’d stood beside her in their bathroom, catching her eyes in the reflection of the mirror as he’d announced that all those pills had given him a marvellously silky coat, and then proceeded to flip his hair like one of those girls in a shampoo commercial.  It had been adorable and hilarious (and just a teensy bit sexy), and she remembers kissing him - soft, but quick - the kind of everyday kiss that happens when you know there’s a lifetime of days ahead.

The kisses he was giving her in the back of this cab didn’t even hold a candle to that day.  Now, his lips were hot against hers, persistent with passion and filled with the promise of oh, so much more.  It’s been so long since they’ve kissed like this, and it hadn’t really occurred to Amy just how much she’s missed it.

Jake pulls away slightly, resting his forehead against hers as he struggles to catch his breath, his eyelids still heavy with desire.  Amy knew that look he gave her in the bar, that we need to get out of here before I drag you into that coat closet again look that has always been way up there on her list of favourite looks he can give her, and she should probably feel guilty for stealing this cab from that drunk couple outside Shaw’s, but she really doesn’t.  

Moving her hands from his waist, Amy cups Jake’s face in her hand, skimming her left thumb along his cheekbone before pulling him down for another kiss, this one starting out a lot softer but quickly turning into so much more.  Their tongues massage each other while their hands begin to roam, that sweet just you wait feeling washing over them.  This time it’s Amy that pulls away, fingers circling the buttons on the front of her husband’s shirt, and when he reaches out to tip her chin towards him she catches his eye, both letting out a soft chuckle.  They were acting like horny teenagers tonight, and it was such a welcome change of pace.

The passing streetlights wash over Jake’s features as the cab streaks down Bleecker Street - probably too fast for the posted speed limit, but perhaps the driver can feel the tension just as much as they can - and as Amy watches the shadows flicker over her husband’s face, finally she notices the bags under his eyes; the underlying look of defeat that simmers beneath the surface, and the pang of sadness that has snuck it’s way into her heart sharpens ever so slightly.  He picks up on the change in her expression - because nobody has ever been able to read her the way that Jake can - and he leans back in, the tip of his nose pushing into her cheek as he presses his lips against hers gently, pulling away and whispering you and me, Ames.  

It seems like only a minute has passed, but suddenly they’re in their bedroom and Amy’s jacket is on the floor and it’s strange, because she’s definitely not drunk, but maybe right now she’s just completely drunk on Jake.  His hands move quickly along the edge of her dress, rucking up the material until he’s got enough of a grip and he pulls, giving her his beautiful wide grin as the garment falls to the floor.  She pulls him in for a kiss while her hands make quick work of the buttons on his shirt, yanking it off before another second is wasted and sliding her hands beneath the material of his undershirt, running her hands along the base of his spine and smiling against his lips when he lets out a soft groan.  

Jake pulls away quickly, the collar of his undershirt briefly getting caught on the edge of his nose and he casts it aside with a flick of his wrist, wrapping his arms around Amy’s waist and gripping her tightly.  His hands still feel soft, but now they’re also warm and steady and welcome as they ascend along her back, grappling with the clasp of her bra until she feels the pull and stretch of it all coming free.  It strangely feels like forever since they’ve been like this, since she’s felt the warmth of her husband’s bare skin against her chest, and she doesn’t hesitate in throwing her arms around his neck, pulling him in so that she can feel him all the more.  Her fingers toy with the slight curl of the shorter hair at the base of his head, and she feels the coolness of Jake’s belt buckle bounce against her skin as he wrestles with his jeans, the heavy thud of denim against the floorboards ringing out only a moment later.  

His hands grip her butt, digging in slightly as Amy stoops while he lifts, wrapping her legs around Jake’s waist without hesitation, and how had she not noticed how much she has missed this?  Somewhere along the way, they’d started to forget moments like these - this lead up to greatness, when the only thing that mattered was how good it felt to be in each other’s arms.  

They stand there melted together for the longest time, both completely lost in their kisses as a build up of all the passion they’ve left behind finally begins to erupt inside them.  It isn’t until she can feel the familiar material of their bedspread moving against her back that Amy realises that Jake has leant her down towards the mattress, and she unwraps her legs to help them shuffle upwards a little.  

There’s a sense of urgency to Jake���s touch, the way hands never seem to be too far away from her body, that turns Amy on all the more, and although she knows that Jake has always desired her it feels like the longest time since she’s actually felt desirable.  His lips trail down her neck, nibbling gently at her collarbone and back up to that spot behind her ear, and they both grip each other tighter as she lets out a breathless moan.  He ventures lower, circling her nipple with his tongue before sucking it in completely, one hand wriggling free to grip her other breast and oh, how she has missed this.  

Her hips buck upwards in response to Jake’s touch, and her pelvis rubs up against his erection - eliciting a moan from her husband’s mouth that echoes around her skin and spurs her on for more, twisting her hips so that she can move back and forth.  His teeth sink gently into the bottom of her breast in reprimand, his free hand snaking down towards her underwear and rubbing her gently through the fabric.  He sighs at the moisture that he finds there, and Amy moans in response before wrapping her legs back around Jake’s waist, shifting her weight until his back hits the bedspread.

The smile she gives him is devious, pressing her right hand into his chest to keep him in place as her left slides lower, palming his erection as it strains against his boxers before shuffling down his body and pushing her knees into the mattress on either side of him.  He lifts slightly as her nimble fingers grip the waistband of his underwear, pulling them down and off with an eagerness that both of them can relate to, a mumbled version of her name hanging in the air as his head pushes back into their pillows.

It had only taken a few nights into their relationship for Amy to figure out that Jake was a Very Big Fan of foreplay.  Those first weeks of discovering each other, exploring the other’s bodies and experimenting with different positions and tempos had been the best weeks of her life thus far, continually thanking her lucky stars that she’d fallen for somebody who was so intent on giving her pleasure in so many ways.  It ended up becoming a recurring theme in their lives, often coming up when the other least expected it (ie. that night on her couch, three months in), but in the sea of madness that had become their overly scheduled attempts at procreation, moments like these had sadly fallen to the wayside.  

But not tonight.  Gripping his dick in her hand, Amy rotates her wrist, pumping slowly up and down and biting her lip at the responding moan that falls from her husband’s mouth.  Tonight, she wants Jake to feel the same kind of amazing he makes her feel.  Wants him to come in her mouth and not consider it a ‘wasted opportunity for a uterine deposit’, but rather a chance for her husband to have an orgasm for no reason other than pleasure.  

Pulling her hand away, Amy lowers herself towards Jake’s body, beginning a series of tiny kisses that trail along the top of his pelvis, tonguing the trail of hair that leads to the grand prize before skipping it all together and kissing his inner thigh instead.  From above her, Jake lets out a huff of frustration, and she pulls away completely - waiting until she has his full attention before holding his gaze as she opens her mouth and takes him in completely.  

It had been so long since she’s instigated this, since she’s taken Jake in her mouth and grazed her teeth in feather-light movements against the edge of his cock in the way that she knows he loves.  Relaxing her jaw, she lets him slide deeper in, resisting the urge to react as the head of his erection hits the back of her throat, flattening her tongue against his dick as she slowly slides him back out again.  His fingers dig into her scalp just a little harder as he moans above her, moaning a combination of Ames and so long and it’s the obvious desire in his voice that spurs her forward.

She pulls him out of her mouth completely, circling her tongue around the tip before heading to the base and sliding upwards in one slow lick, and Jake lets out another moan, bucking his hips upwards.  His eyes have long since squeezed shut, and Amy rubs her free hand along the outside of his thigh soothingly as she takes him back into her mouth, increasing her suction all the more as he writhes beneath her.  Her head bobs up and down as she really gets to work, taking the increased intensity of Jake’s sighs as a good indicator that things are going to plan, and when his fingers grip her hair he mumbles, “I’m gonna come, babe, oh god ..” 

Moving her free hand to cup his balls, Amy scrapes her nails gently along the sensitive skin she finds there, and it’s all Jake needs to be pushed completely into oblivion and he comes with a shout, his seed filling her mouth as he calls out her name.  

His chest is heaving by the time she slides his cock out of her mouth, one hand pressed against the side of his face as he mumbles her name repeatedly while coming down from the high.  Sliding against the sheets, Amy dots kisses along the side of her husband’s body before reaching the top, resting her head against his shoulder and looking up at him, watching as he struggles to catch his breath.  Finally, he turns to her and smiles, wrapping an arm around her waist and rolling her body on top of his.  Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, Jake smiles at Amy before dropping a tender kiss to her mouth.  “That was awesome, Ames.  You are awesome.”

Grinning, Amy leans in for another kiss.  “You’re pretty awesome yourself, babe.”

“While that’s true, you’re definitely more awesome-er.”

Without even realising what she’s saying, Amy pulls back to look at her husband and replies, “Well, you’re the awesome-est.”

He laughs, stroking the side of her cheek gently with his thumb, trailing his hand down until he’s following the curve of her lower lip.  “Forgoing the basic rules of the English language to compliment me?  You must be in love.”  

Amy’s responding smile is bright, and she nods.  “Completely.”  Moving her arm to rest against Jake’s chest, she drops her chin to her wrist and twists her mouth slightly.  “I’ve missed this.”

“…. You giving me head?”

She laughs, and Jake’s grip around her waist tightens as he joins in.  “No!  I mean .. yes, but I more meant this.  Just lying here together, talking … we got off track for a bit there.”  Pushing herself slightly forward, Amy presses her lips against Jake’s.  “I’m really glad we found our way back.”

Moving one hand down to grip her butt, Jake leans in to return the kiss before flipping Amy over, cradling her head with his free hand as she rolls underneath him.  “Me too, Ames.  And right now, there’s something I really wanna do.”

Jake’s eyes are dark and full of lust as he plants his hands on the mattress either side of Amy, dropping his head to her shoulders and covering each side with a series of kisses.  Even after they went into Full Amy mode, war-room scheduling included, Jake had done his best while he could to keep things fun and light and sexy.  Surprising her with sweet massages, littering her body with a thousand tiny kisses while they relaxed on their couch, running his hands over Amy’s bare skin with absolute reverence as they worked together to get things going.  

Looking back, it’s hard to pinpoint when it all disappeared; hard to figure out when it stopped being sex.  When scheduled sex with their shirts on overtook making love.  Amy loves schedules - but she loves Jake more, and it terrifies her that for a little while there, the most important detail of love had fallen off of their list of priorities.     

Shuffling lower, Jake’s kisses travel down her ribcage heading towards her stomach, and honestly Amy doesn’t mean to, but she stiffens up as soon as she feels the tip of his nose rub against her skin.  This was, after all, the part of her body that they’d both imagined to be swollen with a child by now -  healthy, glowing proof that as one, they had created a new life.  It was hard for her not to consider herself broken … a failure at something so simple that, being one of eight Santiago children, should come to her so easily.  

Jake stops in his tracks, resting both hands on her hips as he looks up at Amy, and his eyes look so wide and sincere that Amy can feel her strong reserve crumbling down, brick by brick.  Rubbing his thumbs in a soothing pattern, he holds her gaze as he presses his lips against her skin, covering her abdomen over and over until Amy can feel the tension begin to slowly melt away.  Rising slightly, Jake moves to hover over Amy, pushing his knee into the bedsheets as he rests his forehead against hers.  “None of this is your fault, Amy.  Whatever it takes, we’re gonna figure this out.  Together.”

Amy’s heart flutters, and she runs one hand through his hair.  “I love you, Jake Peralta.”  He leans in for a soft kiss, and she smiles when they part.  “So much.“

He answers with another kiss, this one heavy with passion and affection, and just when Amy begins to think her heart is going to switch into overdrive he pulls away, dropping one last kiss to the tip of her nose before continuing his earlier path.

The sight of her husband, head dipped low as he trails his tongue down her body, is incredibly arousing, and Amy finds her hips lifting in silent invitation as Jake travels further down.  He mouths her clit through the material, suckling softly agains the fabric before curling his fingers around the edge of her panties and tugging downwards - moving only to help Amy bend her legs in succession so that he can toss the fabric away.  

He watches her carefully as one hand returns to her centre, massaging her mound in deliberate strokes.  Grabbing her left hand with his right he pulls it down until they’ve met his other hand, not letting go until their joined fingers have reached her clit.  Taking the cue, Amy begins to rub in slow circles, letting out a soft moan when she feels two of Jake’s fingers enter, stroking her deep inside and setting all of her nerves on fire.

Her legs spread wider as her breath hitches in her chest, and then suddenly she can feel Jake’s warm tongue against her folds and her hand falls away, moving to grip the strands of his hair as his mouth begins to lavish attention onto her bud.  It all felt so incredible, so familiar and yet strangely so new, and ohhh, she’s really REALLY missed this.

Jake’s tongue dips and rises, lowering then climbing again and again, and she’d almost swear he’s drawing a love heart with that talented tongue of his but before she can even ask his lips are surrounding her clit completely, sucking just hard enough that Amy’s pelvis lifts off the bed, her fingers digging into his hair as he persists with the movement.  His right hand grips the bare skin of her butt as she feels her body begin to clench up, and her thighs are definitely locking her husband in place right now but she hears no protests … she can’t hear anything, really, apart from the sound of her own moans as Jake pushes her over the edge a mere millisecond later. 

She’d almost forgotten about this; the rush of blood whooshing through her body, the feeling of everything tightening and then relaxing in such a quick succession that her limbs tremble in the aftershock.  Jake knew how to read her body better than anybody she’d ever been with before - something she’d come to realise within the first week of dating, but didn’t dare to tell him until several months in.  Even now, as Amy’s heart pounds right out of her chest and coherent thought begins to return to her mind, she can feel his ridiculously soft lips running along the inside of her thigh, lapping away the evidence of her arousal before pushing his weight upwards along her body and reversing the trail of kisses he’d paved on her skin earlier.

His breath is hot on her skin as he grates his teeth against one nipple, swirling his tongue around the tip before releasing, mumbling - “I’ve really missed doing that.”

Amy grins, and she knows it’s the type of grin that in the past Jake has told her looks like the cat who got the cream, and in all honesty he’s not wrong.  She feels satiated, the muscles in her body relaxing as she feels Jake’s body slide up against hers, and when he kisses her she responds enthusiastically, thoroughly enjoying the taste of her on his tongue.  “I’ve really missed you doing that,” she replies with a wink, and he laughs before pulling her in for another kiss.  

She deepens the kiss as she feels Jake’s body cover hers, his erection nudging against her stomach.  Separating her legs slightly to allow space for Jake to rest between them, she pulls away to catch her breath, pushing her lower body up towards her husband as she goes.  Her entire centre is still throbbing after having the strongest orgasm she’s had in the longest time, but already she’s desperate for more.

Jake’s thumb brushes along her hairline, and his voice is soft when he asks - “Should I put on a condom?” and it’s so sweet of him to ask, knowing that she’s been off her birth control for months now, and perhaps both of them just needed a little bit of time.  But there’s still a tiny part of Amy that is holding onto the hope that maybe this time will be the one, and so she shakes her head quickly, craning her neck up towards Jake and pulling him in for another kiss, moaning against his mouth as he enters her slowly.

He pauses for a moment, giving Amy time to adjust before pulling out just as slowly and thrusting back in, settling into a rhythm that is soft and sweet and she really, truly loves this man.  She loves him for knowing that this is what she needs right now - that after months of things being so clinical, what both of them needed was just to make love - and if they make a baby from it, well then that’s just a bonus.  She loves him for all the times he’s reminded her just how amazing he believes her to be; for telling her that even in the hardest times she was never alone.  Amy knew, deep down in her heart, that no matter which way they decided to go with things, that Jake would support her one hundred percent, and that meant more to her than she could possibly say.

Her hips begin to push up off the bed, meeting Jake’s perfectly rhythmic thrusts, and he drops his head to the base of her neck and sinks his teeth in softly as he lets out another moan, mumbling out an Ames as his tongue laps against the indentation his bite left behind.  Gripping both of his shoulders with her hands, Amy can feel her fingernails dig into his skin as her legs wrap around Jake’s waist, quietly begging for more, and he really does know her so well because without hesitation his thrusts increase in both speed and intensity, and Amy’s head falls back down the pillow as she lets out a strangled yesss.

She knows that neither of them are going to last long - this feels way too good for it to last, and in all honesty they had all night - and with that in mind Amy pushes her pelvis up towards Jake’s body, letting the persistent movement of his thrusting hips rub her clit in just the right way.  It works perfectly, because it’s only a minute or two later that her entire body is shuddering, the overwhelming sensation of pure satisfaction quaking through her body as she calls out Jake’s name.  As his fingers dig into her butt Jake speeds up his thrusts, pushing both of their bodies up the mattress as he moves closer to the edge, pulling Amy in for a heart-stopping kiss as he finally comes.  He whispers her name when they part, both of their skin slick with sweat from their exertions but neither willing to move just yet.

Eventually he pulls out, hands sliding over Amy’s skin as he moves to lay beside her, and briefly Amy fights the instinct to hold her knees to her chest, finally dismissing all of the pregnancy journals and articles that had recommended her do.  Instead, she curls her body towards her husband, resting her head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat as it gradually slows back down to it’s regular rhythm.    

The tip of Jake’s middle finger traces up and down Amy’s arm, gliding against her skin as his heaving breath slows, and his voice breaks through the silence while he uses his other hand to pull her closer to him.  “I meant what I said earlier, Ames.  You and I, we’re a family.”  She feels his lips press against her hairline, and she nods in response.  “Whether that’s a family of two, or three, heck even a family of nine - I don’t mind.  As long as it’s you and me, everything else is gravy.”

Amy nods again, silently waiting for the tears to threaten her calm again, but this time around they simply don’t come.  She knows - she knows - that Jake is right.  The two of them are where it all ends and begins.  And one way or another, they would figure it all out.  Her hand slides along his stomach, curling around his waist as she moves up slightly, tucking herself into his shoulder the way she loves to.  “You better be counting some pets when you’re getting to that nine, Peralta.”

His chest bounces underneath her arm as he laughs, and there really is no way to describe just how happy Jake makes her.  “I’m just saying, babe - we could like, totally dominate the crime fighting world.  Have someone from the FBI, the CIA, a detective - you and I both know you’ll be captain by then - and I guess one of them could be a firefighter, if they really wanted.  I don’t know about you, but I think that sounds pretty awesome.”

Tipping her head slightly, Amy plants a kiss to the side of Jake’s neck, pausing to breathe him in.  “It does sound pretty awesome.”

Amy can’t see his face, but she knows that he’s smiling at her response, and she leans back in for another kiss.  It was beginning to feel as though all the stress of the past six months was seeping out of her body, her limbs growing heavier the longer she lay there in her husband’s arms.  Jake must be feeling the same, his voice heavy with exhaustion as he mumbles, “I love you, Ames”, and she can feel her face stretch into a beaming smile as she closes her eyes.  Whether they end up with a team of crime-fighters, or keep their family at two, she would always have Jake by her side, and that meant everything.

*

It’s another ten days before Amy decides to take another pregnancy test, and she doesn’t feel nearly as defeated as all the times before when she shows the negative result to Jake with a casual nope.  This was just another test - and it was hard, for sure.  But together, they’d find a way.   

[the-general-hux]

@finishwhxtyoustartxd

Armitage Hux rested his forehead against the cool glass of the passenger side window. His parents had stopped talking hours ago, his mother was asleep in the front seat and his father was driving with white-knuckled fingers crimped around the steering wheel. Hux shared the backseat with luggage that wouldn’t fit in the trunk of their rental sedan. His knees pressed against the back of the driver’s seat and he longed for chance to stretch out his legs. His eyes blinked open and shut as he looked out the window at the endless procession of trees.

Traffic slowed down and his father spat out a string of curses at the other drivers’ abilities to keep stopping distance on the rain slick road. The air smelled damp, even through the filter of the air conditioning. A small town appeared and a sign declared it Bayport. Perhaps the settlers had never heard of redundancy, Hux thought. A smiling whale spouted a flourish of water on the sign. Hux gritted his teeth and put in his headphones.

Tourists crossed the highway, oblivious to oncoming traffic and the increasing frequency of his father’s cursing. A bead shop. Souvenirs. Weed shop. Rinse and repeat. Hux caught a glimpse of some amazing biceps in front of a coffee shop and he wrenched his neck to see if the potential face matched the muscles, but his father turned a corner and Hux lost his sight line. He huffed out a sigh. Probably just a tourist, maybe one of those bikers that cruised up and down the Oregon coast. Doing what? Whale-watching?

They pulled into a driveway that was marked with a jaunty lighthouse, Driftwood Cove. They named the rental house. Of course they did. His father stopped the car, turned off the ignition and announced. “This is our home for the next month. Let’s try to not kill each other.”

“No promises.” Hux said and his mother shot him a warning look. “Fine. You work on your book, you work on your paintings and I’ll work on growing a thick coat of mildew.”

“Now darling, it’s not that bad. The ocean air is marvelous for my health and I only have so much time with you before you go off to college and leave me behind.”

Forty two days, six hours and twelve minutes, Hux thought as he got out of the car. He sighed again and nodded because that was what you did when your sick mother guilt tripped you. This wasn’t his idea of a beach holiday. The sky was painted in shades of blue and gray, the whole landscape looked angry and battered into submission by the relentless coastal wind. Then he turned to the ocean. There was a haze covering the entire Pacific Ocean, as far as he could squint. “Twelve hours in the car and I can’t even see the fucking water.”

Hux claimed the room at the very top of the rental, it had a window overlooking the ocean and a stupid sign. “The Crow’s Nest.” He dragged his luggage up the stairs. The whole room smelled musty and forgotten. He sat down on the edge of the queen bed and flopped backwards, staring at the rafters. There was no need for a bed this big in such a small space— Hux scrunched his face up in disgust. Do not think about how many people have had sex in your bed, just don’t. That way lies madness, Hux thought. I am not going to look under the mattress pad.

“Boy!” His father hollered up the stairs, “Come help your mother with her junk!” Hux blew out the breath he was holding and descended the stairs.

It started to rain.

It continued to rain for three days. Drops splattered on the window panes and wind shrieked through the eaves. Hux made a bet with himself about how soon the roof would fly off. It was even money. He curled up on the bed, surrounded by fifteen decorative pillows that some poor soul had embroidered with seagulls and a two year old copy of People magazine. He’d read it cover to cover three times. Cellular service was complete shit and WiFi was apparently an alien concept in rustic vacation rentals. His father’s laptop had not survived the road trip and Hux’s had been commandeered, so no jerking off to his carefully curated archived amateur Alpha porn. The television downstairs had a dial to change the channels. All three channels.

“I’m going to start talking to myself. I am. I’m going to start talking to myself and go find a great white whale to have a battle to the death with. Honestly, it’s inevitable.” He could go talk to his parents. See what they were doing— Hux shook his head. Mother was sleeping, exhausted from her medication and Father was writing. He could write for days at a time, eating what was brought to him and pissing in a milk jug by his desk. He had a bestselling series, it was Regency romance of all things and the royalties were sending Hux to a very good school.

“Yet another thing for me to grateful for.” Hux told a decorative seahorse on the wall. “I have to get out of here. I have to.” He grabbed his coat and one of the guest umbrellas from the hallway. “I’m going out!” He called to his father who grunted in response and waved him off.

Hux made his way down the driveway towards the town center. He paused in front of the map of the town, drawn in a cartoon fashion that made the library and the police station look like equally jaunty places to visit. His sneakers squelched with wetness as he made his way to the coffee shop. It seemed like ages ago that he’d caught a glimpse of those glorious biceps. Everyone was wearing shapeless polar fleece and practical galoshes that he coveted with an practical intensity he’d never truly felt before.

He ordered a hot milky tea, something to chase the cold away from his bones and wrapped his fingers around it. “It's June,” he reminded himself and the counter girl smiled at him and then at his Omega Pride lapel pin. “It really is June, isn’t it?”

“It usually clears up by now. It’s not so bad. Just remember to take your vitamin D pills until the sun comes out again.” She pulled another shot of espresso after that bit of unsolicited advice. Hux pushed his sopping wet shock of red hair out of his face. He was not a natural sun worshipper, but the next time he saw the sun even he might offer up a few prayers of gratitude.

Hux wandered over to the small shelf of used books that lined the back wall. A hand lettered sign read, “Lending Library”.  Out of habit, he looked for his father’s name on the spines of the books. Only one volume this time. The fourth. Savage Unbroken Hearts. Hux couldn’t read his father’s writing, it was far too intimate an act. It was worse than the time his father had walked in on Hux taking a selfie, wearing glitter and a rainbow thong. Hux cringed at the memory and selected a paperback space opera that boasted about galactic conquest. He sat down at a table and thumbed through the yellowed pulpy pages. The previous owner had scrawled his name in childish block letters on the interior cover. Ben.

The counter girl gave him a plastic bag for the book and Hux stepped out into the rain. It wasn’t going to defeat him. “You hear me?” Hux muttered to the weather as he made his way down the boardwalk. He rolled his eyes at the tiny salon and a candy store that was only open on the weekend. He paused in front of a photograph studio that specialized in pirate portraits. Skywalker Studios. Tourists grinned in tawdry costumes and posed in front of pirate flags. Rain dripped from the tip of Hux’s nose and he snorted in disdain. There was a 90% chance that his mother would drag them all in here for a souvenir portrait.

The beach access stairwell was just beyond the photography studio and Hux gripped the guardrail as he wrestled with both the slippery seagull shit smeared steps and the wind that threatened to steal his umbrella. The ocean was surging, the tide rolling in. Hux stared out at the dark, seething waters and felt begrudging respect for the power and intensity of the storm. Also for the warning signs posted all over the beach. Rolling logs that could kill you. Rip tides. Sneaker waves. Tsunamis. This was not the ocean that was in the brochures. Icy spray hit him in the face and he blinked saltwater from his lashes.

There was a man strolling along the pebbled beach. Long dark hair whipped around his head. What kind of Alpha bullshit was this? It was a stereotype of course, but the only person who would have the sheer ballsy stupid confidence to be walking on that beach would be an Alpha. A shameful thrill trilled up the back of Hux’s neck and he tasted the salt on his own lips.

The man reached the stairwell and as he ascended, Hux hid behind his Driftwood Cove umbrella. The man paid him no mind as he passed, Hux peeked out from beneath the umbrella shade. He swallowed hard as he caught the hint of a defined, youthful jawline, speckled with interesting moles that reminded Hux of constellations. The man unlocked the door to Skywalker Studios, stepped inside and flipped on the OPEN neon sign.

Oh god dammit. He wasn’t going to follow that weirdo guy, no matter how broad his shoulders were, no matter how bored Hux was, no matter— he stood on the steps of the photography studio and pushed open the door.

A bell jingled announcing Hux’s presence as he folded up his umbrella in the entry way. “Just a moment!” A deep voice called out from behind a curtain. “Be right out!’

Hux looked at the puddle of rain water accumulating around his feet and he flushed with embarrassment. He glanced to the side at a mirror for the tourists to check their costumes. His hair was plastered to his head, water dripped from his ears. No, no, no this was a mistake—

The broad-shouldered stranger walked out in a muscle baring tank top, drying his hair with a towel. The lack of fabric made one thing painfully clear to Hux’s libido. This was the owner of the Glorious Biceps. He wrapped the towel around his hair in a makeshift turban and looked at Hux. For a long moment, the Alpha’s plush pink mouth fell open as he took in the bedraggled, soaked ginger making a mess of his shop floor. If the Earth could open up and swallow me whole right now, that would be just dandy, Hux thought. He turned to leave.

[emperorsfoot]

Hope y’all like my shitty self-indulgent Entrapdak arranged marriage AU! 

Maybe read the tags? /self-conscious

...

He double checked the number on the scale before recording it, hesitant to believe the positive result. There had been no further weight loss in three-hundred and sixty-six consecutive days. He had gone a whole year and a day without his cachexia advancing his condition. Prince Hec-Tor, younger brother to the current Horde Prime, decided to consider that a win. Better than a win. This was a victory! Feeling a level of confidence he was well aware was inflated, he made sure the data was saved to the app he used to track his personal health on his datapad.

Today was going to be a good day.

In his office, his secretaries had already organized all the business for the day, arranging the datacards in neat stacks by relevance. Of course, Imperial projects that were in service to the Great Horde Empire and –by extension- his brother the current Horde Prime, were front and center in the middle of his desk. But there was also his own personal business ventures, household business mostly dealing with salary and requests from staff that cared for his son, Imp, and, finally, one sad lonely little data card off to the side the only one in its stack. That one had to be in reference to the search for Keldor.

Hec-Tor picked it up, glaring at it with mingled hope and dread. Then opened a drawer in his desk and put it out of sight for the moment. He already knew what it was going to say anyway. The same thing all the updates on the search had been telling him for years. ‘There is still no sign of Prince Keldor.’ ‘We have been unable to locate Prince Keldor.’ ‘I’m sorry, your Highness, but it is looking as if your husband is-‘

But Hec-Tor would not dwell on that today. Today was going to be a good day.

Horde Prime was planning some big event in the palace at the end of the week –although he had not yet briefed his brother on what this event would be celebrating. After morning business, Hec-Tor toured the training yard to inspect the troops. If Horde Prime was planning an event, then security had to be in top form. He even felt well enough to jog a lap around the training yard himself.

The sun was mild, the air not too dry, dust particles at an all-time low, uncommonly good weather for Horde World, so Hec-Tor had his lunch served outside in the garden. He skimmed over memos as he chewed a simple sandwich with a side of vitamin supplements and medications. The usually harsh sun gently warming his skin, with an awning bearing the insignia of the Imperial Horde keeping him cool.

Today really was a good day.

Imp came dashing through the bushes, a smile on his face as his head was turned looking behind him. Running on all fours like a feral child instead of the Prince of Imperial decent that he was. Hec-Tor was about to reprimand his son for carrying on like a common street urchin, but then he heard the familiar clunking of a portable breathing tank strapped to the exterior of prosthetic armor. Sure enough, Zed came jogging around the bush Imp had dashed out of. Breathing heavily, fogging up the mask covering his mouth and nasal cavity, the respirator strapped to his back humming loudly in its efforts to compensate for his bodies deeper and heavier breaths. The two boys were playing. They had also noticed that today was a good day.

Imp let Zed catch up to him.

The other boy tapped the tip of one Imp’s wings. “Tag.” He gasped. “You are it.”

Zed turned and began hobbling away in the direction they came, the tank of his respirator clunking against his armor with every step.

Imp jumped up on the table –like a feral street urchin again- and stole a triangle of his father’s sandwich in lieu of counting to ten.

“Do not overtax your cousin.” Hec-Tor commanded his son. Zed might be having fun now, but if he exerted himself, the boy could suffer a seizure. Hec-Tor suffered from a similar condition, except that when he over exerted himself he just passed out. Zed, however, would not just collapse unconcious, he would seize and convulse causing more damage to his already frail body.

Imp knew this just as well any anyone. He nodded at his father before hopping off the table and chasing after Zed.

Watching his son dash away, Hec-Tor couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips. It was a rare thing to see both children playing outside. Looks like it was a good health day for everyone.

After lunch was back to work.

New reports had come in since inspecting the troops. Rebellion in the Denebria System. Uprisings in the mines on Krytis. Queen Elmora was raising the price of phitanium. Blight in the Imperial orchards on Antares. All the problems of a large and far-reaching galactic Empire. Hec-Tor arranged everything in order of importance to the Empire, prioritizing each issue by its impact on the heart of the Empire –Horde World.

There was always at least one rebellion going on at any given time somewhere in the Empire. Rolling his eyes, Hec-Tor moved that datacard to the bottom of the stack. Nobody cared about Denebria anyway. The orchards on Antares did grow fruits that many of the residents of Horde World enjoyed, but the capital imported food stuffs from all over the Empire it was not like they were at risk of starvation from one food-producing world suffering a blight. The Mondor mines on Krytis did produce valuable ores, but it was mostly a penal colony, the uprising would have to be put down, but nothing came out of Krytis that was so valuable he had to drop everything and send out an armada. Queen Elmora raising the price of phitanium, however, that was a big deal.

Phitanium was the hardest substance in the universe. The Horde’s space ships were made out of it. Their weapons were made out of it. Their bots were made out of it. Hell! The royal family’s personal armor was made out of it. The armor Hec-Tor was wearing right now was made out of it. And Elmora knew it. A planetary Queen extorting the great Horde Empire was something Hec-Tor could not allow. The fact that they needed the resource aside, it set a bad precedent! The Empire did not negotiate. The Empire did not concede. The Empire commanded.

Hec-Tor took swift and firm action. Feeling confident in the outcome.

Overall, an easy workload.

Today was a good day.

As evening gathered, the weather turned stormy. The shield wall was raised around the city to keep out the worst of the sand. Shutter plating was locked over the windows of the Imperial palace. Even so, Hec-Tor could still head the ‘plik-plik-plik’ of sand and pebbles impacting the armored sheeting. Horde World was a harsh planet.

Hec-Tor was in the middle of reminding his son that he could not have dessert until he not only finished his food, but took his supplements and medications as well. Hec-Tor demonstrated for the child by swallowing his own assortment of pills and washing them down with water. Imp was unmoved by the display, pushed the cup of medications off the table where they spilled on the floor, and hissed at his father.

A servant rushed to bend down and pick them up, while a second one left to fetch a fresh dose.

That was when Horde Prime walked in.

He frowned at the display, as if his own child had never been fussy about taking medications and got worked up into a tizzy.

“Brother!” Hec-Tor stood from the table, assuming a straight-backed and disciplined military rest. (Imp similarly mimicked his father’s pose, although his was far less polished.) One must always show the proper respect to the Emperor of the Known Universe. “I was unaware we had a dinner together. It was not on my agenda for the day.”

“We do not.” Horde Prime informed him.

This did not give Hec-Tor leave to relax.

“I simply came to inform you that your fiancée will be arriving tomorrow and that I have taken the liberty of rearranging your schedule leading up to your wedding at the end of the week.” Prime said matter-of-factly. As if this was in reference to an item of business Hec-Tor should already know about.

The younger man only stared at his brother. “My what? Leading up to my what!?” His mouth hung open for a few moments, sure he had misheard. Or misunderstood. Surely Horde Prime meant his own fiancée and his own wedding, not Hec-Tor’s. “But- I am already married.”

The Emperor frowned. Displeased with his brother’s response. “Keldor has been gone for years. It is time to conclude that –if he is not dead- he is certainly not coming back. You, however, are still a Prince of this Empire and have a duty to form alliances and strengthen our powerbase. There is no stronger alliance than the contract of marriage.”

“The search for Keldor is still on-going.” Insisted Hec-Tor.

“The search for Keldor has been ‘on-going’ for years and yielded no result except wasted resources and man-power.” Prime turned his attention to Hec-Tor’s son, a hybrid-child created by Keldor’s magic. “Nephew, how old are you?”

Chancing an unsure glance at his father first, Imp held up five fingers.

“It has been five years that you’ve been searching for Keldor.” Prime informed his brother. “You are not going to find him and he is not going to come back. Legally, I can declare him dead. As far as I’m concerned, you are a widower and can be remarried.”

At least Prime was not threatening to annul the marriage all together and render Imp a bastard –effectively removing him from the line of succession. But Hec-Tor still glared with displeasure. “Anillis, please… I do not wish to remarry.”

“What you wish is immaterial.” Prime informed him. “You will do your duty as a Prince of this Empire and remarry.”

That was final.

The Emperor had made up his mind and made his decree. Hec-Tor got his chance to voice his complains. His complaints were heard. Then dismissed. Now it was time to serve his Empire.

Hec-Tor lowered his eyes. “As it pleases my Emperor.”

With a nod of satisfaction, Horde Prime left.

Imp scooted his chair closer to his father, placing one blue hand over the older man’s. The servant returned with the new dose of Imp’s medication and the child took it without fuss, hoping this might improve his father’s mood.

Hec-Tor stroked the child’s throat, helping the large pills down easier. “I am fine.” He assured his son. Then sighed, slouching in his chair in a way that was unbecoming of royalty. “And today had been such a good day too.”

[dukeoftheblackstar]

I made clone boys oc !

Commander Vitamin and the Pill boys ♥ And no, they're not medics. They're super nice. Super preppy. Super polite. Does not cuss. Very tamed. Very well-behaved boys.

BUT.

They get hooked on drugs so easily.

They're the type that would walk you across the street and then snort crack. <- LOL

BUT.

They get temporarily assigned to Plo Koon and in this AU, the 104th gets assigned to Pong Krell and Wolffe is just losing his goddamn mind because Plo being all doting with the Commander Vitamin and the Pillboys.

Will I make them fight? Probably. Riot. Riot.

They also gotta steer clear from medics. Cause drugs.

Plo will fix that. I believe in Plo. I also believe in Commander Vitamin and the Pill boys ♥

@saengak ♥

[dukeoftheblackstar]

I'm reading your prompts for plo and your oc and she sounds really fun! I don't get to see you do a lot of prompts, so here!

How do they spend time if the other is gone?

Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?

What do they do for Valentines Day?

What are their parenting styles?

Thank you! I'm actually enjoying these prompts tbh. And yeah, I don't usually do prompts because I rarely have much to give about. I only have Duch, Papa Ziar (my oc for Plo Koon's dad), and Commander Vitamin and the Pill Boys (clones). Appreciate this! ♥

1. How do they spend time if the other is gone?

Because of Plo's line of work with missions and Jedi duties, Duch would either be back in Dorin helping Papa Ziar with Kel Dor hatcheries/orphanage.

If she's in the same planet as Plo and he's out busy, she tends to their very danger-danger garden full of carnivorous plants like a giant Venus Fly-Trap that eats tiny critters, a discovered plant similar to sims' cowbell plant, and other screeching succulents native from Duchess' planet, Celestia.

When Duch is in Dorin and Plo has free time, he spends it wisely with meditating, reading, gardening, staring down iso-Plo and T-Wolffe (Duchess' giant isopod and tardigrade pet that makes Plo very uncomfortable).

2. Who will punch someone out if they are rude to their partner?

Duch will have no shame in punching anyone who disrespects the clones, her husband, Kel Dors, or anyone really being an ass.

Note that she will cry after because these hands aren't meant for punching, they're made for stabby stab stabs.

She will also punch whoever Plo wants punched because Plo just can't be out there punching people for the slightest reason. A simple nod to his beloved wife before turning his back so he doesn't "see" Duch socking someone in the face with a very delighted smile.

3. What do they do for Valentines Day?

4. What are their parenting styles?

Plo is very much in charge of keeping the babies disciplined because Duch cannot bring herself to reprimand her kids due to personal, childhood trauma. She would just quietly tend to tiny, bebbi claws scratching at her or get all patched up while Plo scolds the boys.

Plo is also unsure whether to reprimand Duch about using wooden sticks to separate rough housing kel dor bebbbis so she doesn't get clawed at because it works.

Plo uses the force to pick and separate bebbies up.

Plo gets the boys in line with that "look". They scared of daddy but also loves daddy so much they follow him around.

Bebbies also follow Momma around.

Plo is protectiveof bebbies. Duch is too protective of the babies. She will fight fangs and claws for the bebbies.

Plo is very traditional.

Duch is very unconventional.

[true-halloween-tales]

2017: #10-SUPERHEROES

Superheroes have not been around for more than 100 years, yet they are featured in films, tv series and their origins of comic books.  Since 2008’s Iron Man, Marvel superhero films have collected from the box office more than $12.6 billion!  Superheroes seem to have evolved from heroes like Robin Hood, the Scarlet Pimpernell, Zorro, the Lone Ranger, and the Shadow.  These heroes all wore costumes and broke the law for higher ideals, and none of them were more than human.  Tarzan is a hero but is not a superhero, especially since his costume is just a furry, ratty pair of underwear that does not exactly hide his secret identity.  The Phantom is the first superhero to be depicted wearing a costume; he wore a black mask, purple body suit, and appeared in a 1936 comic strip as well as a 2006 film with Billy Zane and Patrick McGoohan (see 2017: #4-SPIES).  

Superheroes are crime fighters and protectors of humanity.  There are multitudes of characters who qualify as superheroes, and it would sure help to classify them.  Superheroes are often divided into which comic book publisher they originated from.  D.C. was founded in 1934 and is named after their Detective Comics which Batman started out in.  Marvel popped up in 1938, and office assistant Stanley Lieber became Stan Lee and perhaps Marvel’s greatest force.  Stan Lee is now 94 years old and is the company’s Emeritus Chairman.  D.C. has created some great superheroes and films, but Marvel is clearly winning the superhero game.  But we need to go beyond comic book publishers to properly classify superheroes.

One classification of superhero is for highly talented people, often with special training, but without any special powers.  The most common special training is for the ninja fighting style.  Batman fits into this category as does the Green Arrow.  There are teams of ninja superheroes such as the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles and the Science Ninja Team Gatchaman.  Handicapped people can be superheroes too, such as Daredevil who is a highly trained, ninja-like, blind man.  If a superhero does not have special training, then sometimes they have a commanding personality like Flash Gordon.  Superheroes who are distinguished by special training often have useful devices or weapons, like Batman’s batarang boomerang or his utility belt.  Judge Dredd is a futuristic police officer superhero in a post apocalyptic world, but he does not have ninja training.  Instead, he has the Lawgiver, a futuristic gun that shoots bullets with multiple harmful effects.  Some superheroes’ useful devices are precisely what makes them a superhero, such as the Green Lantern who has all of his powers, including flying in outer space, because of his ring.  

A second category of superheroes is for normal people who gained special powers.  The special powers are usually gained from an accident, but they can be gained other ways.  The Blue Beetle originally gained his powers by taking a super special vitamin.  Spider-Man fits into this category as does the Flash.  Luke Cage and Jessica Jones both gained their abilities by mad scientists’ experimentation and accidents (see 2018: #5-MAD SCIENTISTS).  Wolverine from the X-Men is a popular film character who gained his abilities from experimentation intentionally designed to give him superpowers.  Doctor Strange gained his magical abilities by years of training (see 2016: #2-WIZARDS).  One of my favorite childhood comic superheroes was Metamorpho who had a lab accident and developed the ability to turn his body or parts of his body into anything.  He constantly changed his shape based on the needs of the situation and his creativity, turning his arm into a sword, or turning his body into a doorknob with his face spying on the criminals.  

A third type of superhero is distinguished by having natural special powers that they were born with.  This classification of superhero tends to either be aliens or divine.  Superman has his super powers because he is an alien from the planet Krypton. Thor has his strength from being a Norse god.  Wonder Woman has her super powers because she was created by the gods.  The Sub-Mariner has his underwater abilities because he is half-human and half-Atlantean.  The fact that some superheroes are born or created from gods really sheds light as to what superheroes symbolize: they are the new gods.

Another classification of superheroes exists: those with dark powers.  These are superheroes who border on being monsters or really are monsters.  Man-Thing and Swamp Thing are both half-plant swamp monsters.  The Hulk is a very well known monster-like superhero known for his super strength and jumping for miles across the countryside (see 2013: #3-STRANGE COMIC BOOK MONSTERS).  In the 1970’s there was a cornucopia of comics featuring monster superheroes.  Werewolf by Night was about a werewolf superhero.  Blade is a half-vampire superhero who started out in the Doctor Strange comics.  The Tomb of Dracula featured Dracula as more of a supervillain than a superhero (see 2018: #12-SUPERVILLAINS).  Morbius the Living Vampire was about a vampire who wore a superhero outfit.  Ghostrider sold his soul to the Devil and became a flaming skeleton biker when he is after the bad guys.  The Spectre was an undead ghost-like superhero who had quite surreal abilities.  Superheroes with this dark edge are some of the sharpest!

There are some superheroes who are primarily comedy characters.  Plastic Man was the first superhero who stretched some comedy into his comic.  The Tick is a funny 1980 tv series, and the new 2017 series is equally as entertaining.  The Toxic Avenger films by Troma Pictures are about a bullied boy who becomes similar to Swamp Thing.  Troma also presented us with the comedy superhero film, Sgt. Kabukiman, N.Y.P.D.  Frisky Dingo was a very funny animated superhero series ten years ago and was the precursor to Archer.  Ant Man appears in Marvel films as partially a comedic character.  The soon-to-be released Thor: Ragnarok supposed to include much comedy and may be a great film.  Deadpool is a comedic, violent, and adult superhero who is known for breaking the third wall and addressing the audience.  There’s even the fat-headed Powerpuff Girls cartoon and animated film.

There are quite a few superhero teams.  Besides the Justice League and the Justice Society of America, there are the very popular Avengers.  The Fantastic Four and the X-Men exist within the same universe.  The Watchmen are more recently on the scene.  The Defenders now have their own tv series on Netflix.  The Suicide Squad are villains turned superheroes.  The Guardians of the Galaxy are space traveling superheroes including a plant-man, Groot.  The Guardians of the Galaxy are also distinguished to have an animal superhero: Rocket Raccoon.  Other animal superheroes include the peculiar Howard the Duck, the pill-popping Underdog, Atom Ant, Mighty Mouse, Danger Mouse, and Secret Squirrel.  There is even a worm superhero, Earthworm Jim from a cartoon and video game series.  Anyone and anything can be a superhero!

Who are the superheroes with the best comics?  Spider-Man is a fun comic and so is The Flash.  Both have strange supervillains and often have science fiction based plot lines.  The Amazing Spider-Man comic is usually lots of fun, mainly because of the cool villains and light tone.  However, The Flash is usually an even lighter comic and more amusing and creative.  The Flash is not a dark character like Batman, and he is rarely serious, unlike in the current tv series.  The Flash has adventures in parallel worlds, on other planets, and even places like an ape city (see 2017: #9-THE ADVENTURE CONTINUES 5: RETURN OF THE RAT, THE CAT, AND THE MONKEY).  I particularly like the monster superheroes, and I own the entire Werewolf By Night comic.  Werewolf By Night’s Michael Ploog created incredible artwork for Man-Thing, and it would be wonderful if another Man-Thing film was made.

As for the best superhero films, 1989’s Batman is the best superhero film for me.  It features the creepy Jack Palance, the crazy Jack Nicholson, the cool music of Prince, and it was directed by the creative Tim Burton.  Christopher Nolan’s second two Batman films are excellent films, but they present a comic book with a bit too much stark realism.  Heath Ledger was amazing in The Dark Knight, but the Batman Arkham Asylum video games really present Batman so much better and include Mark Hamill’s voice work as the Joker.  Superman tends to be boring and more of a Pooperman, and the Spider-Man films really lost the fantasy element of the comic.  The X-Men films have been fun, but the film franchise’s timeline has collapsed all over itself.  The Avenger films have consistently been entertaining and good productions with large casts and good special effects.  

There have been many superhero tv series.  Most have been cartoons such as 1967’s Space Ghost in which a space Batman flies around the galaxy with his team including Blip the monkey who wisely wears a mask. Unfortunately there has not yet been a Space Ghost live action film made starring Bruce Campbell.  One of the coolest superhero cartoons ever made was Ralph Bakshi’s 1967 psychedelic Spider-Man.  There are few more entertaining superhero adventures than in “Vine” from that series in which Spider-Man battles a gargantuan plant monster and travels back in time.  The best superhero live action tv series was Adam West’s Batman series; it finally was released on dvd.  The guest stars and villain characterizations are excellent.  There were a number of somewhat silly superhero series that aired in the 1970’s, and I watched them all: Wonder Woman, Isis (the Egyptian goddess), and Shazam! with Les Tremayne.  The 1980’s spawned the live action Spider-Man, The Flash, and The Greatest American Hero.  The Incredible Hulk series with Bill Bixby was the best superhero tv series in the 1980’s (see 2016: #4-THE DETAILS ARE IN THE DEVIL).  Starting in 1999, Batman Beyond was an interesting animated series with a very old Bruce Wayne in the future training a new Batman in an upgraded high-tech bat suit.  There currently are some very entertaining superhero series on the CW network: Arrow, The Flash, and the really good Legends of Tomorrow.  

If the three most powerful superheroes were to fight it out, who would win?  That is easy since it would be Flash.  There are a few other superheroes like Superman who could catch up to Flash, but Flash could easily send them off into a parallel world against their will.  Speeding to the analysis, it is indicative of the Twentieth Century that superheroes were required.  Heroes were not enough.  Since both D.C. and Marvel formed after WW1 and before WW2, perhaps world wars were the unconscious need for superheroes.  Perhaps it was too many laws piling up and no one to cut through the red tape and save the day.  That would mean that superheroes save us, often by breaking the law, because the law is really insufficient to protect us.  Superheroes are so popular because of a rejection of the constraints of society.  Welcome the new gods, superheroes!

[xxxprettydeadgirlxxx]

Dark Paradise

Loki/OFC Rated M (for Violence and NSFW) Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 (I will warn you ahead of time, this chapter is long. I also figured out how to add the ‘keep reading’ button. I can officially Tumblr now.)                                                  Chapter 15

"You are in Asgard, child." he replied. "And I hear you are carrying my grandchild."

Loki couldn't believe what he was hearing, or seeing. The Bitfrost was restored, for how long!? How long had Odin left them in Muspelheim to rot! "The Bitfrost." Loki began. "How long has it been functional!"

"Long enough." Odin smirked, not bothering to hide the mocking tone in his voice.

"You! You son of a bit-" A couple of guards grabbed Loki just as he went to lunge towards the Alfather.

"I would not recommend finishing that statement, boy.” Odin interjected. Contain him!" He commanded in a growl towards the remaining guards. "See to it that he isn't a threat."

Loki's body shook all over as the guards shackled him in the all too familiar chains. He knew better than to resist, no matter how much he wanted to. He was ready to kill Odin; he wanted to rip his lungs from his chest and watch him drown in his own blood, slowly.

He knew. Odin had known where they were. He had known Octavia was carrying his child. Odin knew she was pregnant, and he had waited until the very last second to help them; to help her.

"My Seidr." Loki snarled. "It was you, wasn't it?"

"Of course it was." Odin shrugged mockingly.

"No, stop!" Octavia shouted in a panic. She had attempted to intercept the guards, but before she had really gotten anywhere the force of their trip had caught up with her and she collapsed. She felt dizzy and nauseous. Oh no... She had been in Asgard for all of two minutes and she was about to vomit all over the place; and she did.

Embarrassingly so.

"For Norn's sake! Someone clean up that mess up and get the damn girl to the healing room to see Eir before she defiles anymore of Asgard!" Odin roared, clearly agitated she had gotten sick on the floor.

Loki was ready to snap his neck; a slow death be damned! "She cannot help it!" he roared back, and Odin's eyes grew wide with rage.

"Silence him, then take him to the dungeons until further notice."

"NO! You can't do that!" Octavia cried, now that she was sure she was done being sick. "He has done nothing to deserve it!"

“Octavia!” Loki exclaimed, trying to fight his way towards her, but he was already mostly shackled by this point. The look on Odin's face made Loki fear for her life; he was not pleased with her outburst.

"Don't you dare back talk me girl!" Odin shouted, ignoring Loki's pleas. "I could very well send you back to Muspelheim to die a slow, painful death, so do not test me!"

Octavia flinched from the Alfather's cruel words and decided to remain silent, tears now falling from her eyes. That was the last place she wanted to go back to, even if Asgard didn't really seem like the better option right now, but she needed to see a doctor. That much she knew.

The Alfather glared at Loki and spat, “Perhaps you should teach your wench some manners; to be seen, not heard.” Loki muffed something through his muzzle that he now had strapped on. Octavia assumed it was an insult, but she couldn't be entirely sure.

Loki was now fully chained and restrained, from his ankles to his wrists, and he even had chains around his waist and neck. Octavia couldn't believe the lengths they were going to keep him contained. How dangerous was Loki really? She'd seen a good bit of what he could do, but she knew he had been holding back in order to protect her to keep her from dying. There was also the simple fact, his Seidr had been weakened.

Regardless, she dragged Loki down and she knew it. Loki would have stayed and died with her back there without a second thought. If there was one thing in this world Octavia didn't doubt, it was Loki loved her.

Odin narrowed his eyes. "And she can help it, if she chooses so." he stated, matter of fact.

Heimdall rolled his eyes. He had remained quiet up until this point, but he was over this nonsense. Clearly, Odin had not been around Frigga enough when she had been pregnant with Thor. "Actually, Sire, she cannot." If Odin didn't kill him before the night was over with, Heimdall would be lucky. Even Loki gave him a look for that comment. Though, in Loki's defense, he thought Heimdall hated him-so his surprise wasn't exactly a shock.

Odin glared at him, but said nothing else in regards to his comment. He slowly turned towards Octavia, who was getting help standing from a couple of guards. "Can you walk?" he asked her, his tone more calm than it had been just a moment ago.

Octavia was embarrassed and angry with Odin so she decided instead of speaking, she would just shake her head no. She really couldn't walk, not anymore. She wasn't even sure how the hell she'd managed the little bit of walking she had done.

"I assumed as much. There is a carriage awaiting outside to take you to see Eir." The Alfather turned towards Loki and smirked. "As for you, well, you can take a nice long walk to the dungeons." Then he turned and walked out the door.

Octavia had been separated from Loki immediately after and as she was leaving, he gave her a look with his eyes, trying to reassure her everything was going to be okay; that they were going to be okay. She wasn't really sure if she believed that, but she tried. Octavia would try for Loki.

"Place the girl on the bed." A beautiful, older woman commanded the guard the moment he had walked in. Octavia had been so weak the guard had been forced to carry her inside. The man did as he was told and was just as quickly shooed away. When they were left alone the woman spoke again.

"Hello, child." she smiled sweetly. "My name is Eir. I am the healer here in Asgard, so you needn't be afraid." The woman placed a hand gently on Octavia's stomach and hummed. "The Seidr is strong within this child. It is a rare gift indeed." She walked to the other side of the room and retrieved a vial from a cabinet, as well as a bottle of some kind. "Take one of these every day." Eir instructed, holding up a bottle of what looked to be pill tablets. "These are equivalent to what you call prenatal vitamins in Midgard. Also, drink one of these a day.” She held up her other hand that was holding the vial full of green liquid.

“This will help with the sickness so that you can eat and gather your strength for you and your child. Though, I would like to keep you here for the next couple of days to make sure you are able to get around on your own.” Octavia nodded. “May I ask?” she began. “Who is the lucky Aesir that is the father of your child? I am merely curious. We do not see many Midgardians here in Asgard, nor do they usually catch the affections of our warriors.” she smiled sweetly.

More like lucky Jotun than Aesir. Without thinking Octavia smiled and blurted, “Loki.” Eir frowned.

“Loki? As in Prince Loki?” Octavia nodded slowly. “I see.” The look on Eir's face made Octavia uncomfortable. Why was she looking at her that way? It was such a sad look. Was she giving her that look because of the things Loki had done, or was there something else to it? “That is most unfortunate.” she murmured.

“Why?” Octavia mumbled, feeling pained by her reaction. Loki wasn't THAT bad....was he?

“Oh, nothing dear child. Forget I said anything.” Eir's smile returned, but it looked forced. “Drink this, and take one of these now.” Octavia took the vial and drank its contents, which tasted better than she had expected and Eir handed her a glass of water to take her vitamin with. “Now, get some rest and in a couple hours I will bring you something to eat.”

Loki was in a cell for a month before a guard came to retrieve him. He was still fuming and extremely worried about Octavia. He had no idea where she was or if she was even okay. Every time he had asked the guard who would bring his meals, he never got an answer. She could be dead already for all he knew.

He was shackled and escorted by six guards to the Throne room, where Odin sat waiting for him. Thankfully, this time they hadn't muzzled him. “Where is she!” Loki spat the moment he got within range of Odin.

“Safe.” Was all he said.

Loki scoffed. “Right. I'll believe that when I see her.”

“And you will.” Odin told him. “I sure do hope you like this girl because you have gone and impregnated her-a mortal, when you know it is forbidden to do so until after marriage.”

“Really? Out of everything I have done, that is what you are concerned about!” Loki laughed in disbelief. “It wasn't my plan to impregnate her.” he pointed out. “Things happened, mistakes were made. It was all just a bit a fun really.” Loki smirked.

“Fun!” Odin scoffed, irritably. “You have disgraced this family for the last time, Loki. You will wed this girl. No excuses!” Loki's eyes widened. Was he being serious? He couldn't be serious...

“Just as I thought.” he smirked. “You should have thought of that before you were so careless.”

Loki went to speak, but he was speechless. It wasn't that he didn't want to marry her, but it was way too soon and who was to say she even wanted to marry him? Dating was one thing, accidentally getting her pregnant was another, but forcing her to marry him! Would she even agree to that? Would she resent him if she didn't?

Did she love him enough to want to be his wife?

All Loki could manage at that moment was several, long blinks at the Alfather. He is serious...

“Tomorrow eve, you two will be wed and your title of prince restored, but hear this; if you do anything to compromise the safety of Asgard or pull any more stunts as you have in the past, the consequences will not be on you. It will be on your wife and child alone.”

Loki's eyes widened even more and his entire body was trembling now. No. He couldn't. He wouldn't.

“Oh, I would.” Odin responded as if he had read Loki's mind. “So think about everything you do from here on out, because not only will she be your wife, but I have arranged for Idunn to pay us a visit as well. She has a wedding gift for your soon to be bride.”

“An apple?” Loki responded hopefully, forgetting who he was talking to for a moment, but quickly caught his mistake and replaced his hopeful face with a stern glare.

“Yes.” Odin narrowed his eyes. “An apple. Since she is from Midgard and since their lifespans are so short I want to ensure you behave for a while. But if you love her as Heimdall claims you do-” Heimdall? What did Heimdall have to do with this? -“then I have no doubt in my mind that you will.”

And Loki would.

There was no way he would ever chance endangering Octavia or his child. Though, again, he couldn't help but wonder how she was going to react to all of this. Did she already know about Odin's plans, or was she just going to be blindsided and thrown into it without knowing anything? Octavia practically had an immortal lifelong sentence with him now. Loki loved her enough, but did she love him just as much as he loved her? Their relationship was still new, so they hadn't talked about anything serious-until the baby, and even then she had been so sick they had still yet to really discuss anything.

“So, do you honestly believe you are going to fool the court into thinking that I got my wife pregnant after we were wed?” Loki raised a brow. “Surely, by now, she is at least four months along.”

“Which is exactly why both of you will go back to Midgard the following day. I have yet to decide what to do with the two of you. Thor will be informed of this and required to keep an eye on the both of you, ensuring you do not try and run.” Odin stood.

“If you do, you will be forced to watch her and your unborn child, die.

@burningarbiterheart @mastreworld  @hellokittyismyspiritanimal @court-of-thorns-and-roses @mad-about-britain @archy3001 @iamhisgloriouspurpose @scoobysnacks31 @sweetangelfan @Kidamon @myclock @prettyhatemachine01 @catqueen434 @worthyofthewhedonverse09 @iwishiwasamutant @normanallthewayforever @wolfsmom1@helenaisabel @lokislonelylady @neurotic-narwhal

EDIT-Tagging issue should be resolved, I hope... lol Thank you @mad-about-britain (If you want to be added/removed from the tag list-please let me know!)

[recklesstreacherous]

Oh my gosh, Rebekah Harkness had such a messy and sad life www(.)nytimes(.)com/1988/05/22/books/is-there-a-chic-way-to-go(.)html?pagewanted=all

Thanks for linking this article! I love reading about her… and yes, she did have a very unique and tragic life. I’d love to watch a documentary about her.

_______________________________________________________________________‘IS THERE A CHIC WAY TO GO?’A week after her death on June 17, 1982, the mortal remains of Rebekah Harkness were toted home by her older daughter Terry in a Gristede’s shopping bag. The ashes were placed in a $250,000 jeweled urn made by Salvador Dali. They didn’t fit: “Just a leg is in there, or maybe half of her head, and an arm,” said one of Rebekah’s friends. Several hours later, the top of the urn - called the Chalice of Life - was somehow, by unknown agencies, uncovered. “Oh, my God,” said a witness. “She’s escaped.”        

This post-mortem mischief was going on at Harkness House, the East 75th Street town house headquarters of the Harkness Ballet Foundation, which Mrs. Harkness had modeled on the St. Petersburg Ballet School. The building, according to Craig Unger, the author of this rich-man/eye-of-the-needle biography, was in a state of putrefaction, “crumbling like Tara after the Civil War.” Meanwhile, in her apartment at the Carlyle Hotel, people who called themselves Rebekah Harkness’s friends were pillaging, “grabbing things right and left.”        

Rebekah’s younger daughter Edith, a failed suicide who had spent many years in mental institutions, took only her mother’s pills: Seconal, Nembutal, Valium, Haldol, Librium and various painkillers - 40 vials in all. Allen Pierce, Rebekah’s son by the first of her four husbands, was unable to be present. Convicted of murder in the second degree, he was behind the bars of a Florida jail. Bobby Scevers, Rebekah’s lover, 25 years younger than she and a self-declared homosexual, pronounced her children “the most worthless, selfish, useless creatures I’ve ever seen.” (Mr. Scevers has a stunning way of placing himself squarely in the center of every sentence he utters; he appears to believe that Rebekah Harkness’s death happened more to him than to her.) If I report on the demise of the multimillionaire patron of the dance dry-eyed, it is because I am confident in the belief that nothing we say about the dead can prejudice the Defense or tip the Scales of Judgment. I myself wouldn’t give the time of day to anyone who cleaned her pool out with Dom Perignon, put mineral oil in the punch at her sister’s debutante ball and (all in the middle of the Great Depression) got tossed off an ocean liner for shouting obscenities, throwing dinner plates at an orchestra of Filipinos gamely playing the American national anthem, and offending the sensibilities of her fellow passengers by swimming nude - for which actions she counted herself witty. (I do admit, however, that I’d go a long way to read a sentence like this, spoken by Bertrand Castelli, the co-producer of “Hair,” about the time he made love to Rebekah Harkness in her office: “It was as if we were two camels in the desert who suddenly know that the only way to make an oasis is to really talk sense.” After his brief interlude in the oasis, Mr. Castelli was made the artistic director of the Harkness Ballet. “Kiss me,” she commanded. “The others, they just know how to bite.”) Craig Unger, a former editor at New York magazine, appears to be dazzled by all this, although it is sometimes hard to tell whether his breathlessness arises from approval, disapproval, sadness, awe or simple bewilderment. Mr. Unger, who records interviews uncritically and unreflectively, does not permit us to know exactly how he feels about his subject.        

Rebekah Harkness was born in 1915 to a rich, emotionally frigid St. Louis family. She was brought up by a nanny who was chosen because she had worked in an insane asylum. She went to Fermata, a South Carolina finishing school that had sheltered Roosevelts, Biddles and Auchinclosses. There she delighted, as she wrote in her scrapbook, in setting out to “do everything bad.’'  After her divorce from W. Dickson Pierce, an upper-class advertising photographer, she chose for her second husband the Standard Oil heir William Hale Harkness, who enjoyed a lofty social status, as her own family did not. He appears to have been an embarrassing sort of man; he wrote and privately published a book called ’'Totem and Topees,” which he described as a “conglomeration of uninteresting misinformation,” and followed that with a book called “Ho hum, the Fisherman,” which, he said, did not “have the excuse even of literary merit.” We are told by Mr. Unger - who is an uncomfortable stranger in the world of the rich, unused to deciphering nuances of caste - that the Harknesses’ seven-year marriage was a happy one. Little evidence is given in support of this thesis except that the two wrote a song together called “Giggling With My Feet.”        

After she was widowed, Mrs. Harkness renovated her Rhode Island house; she installed 8 kitchens and 21 baths. This arrangement effectively kept her from having to see her three children on anything like a regular basis. She had a salon of sorts. She traveled a lot.        

She fancied herself a composer.        

She acquired a guru, also a yogi.        

She married again. And again.        

She was surrounded by a group her son Allen described as “all the fairies flying off the floor, the blackmailing lawyers, the weirdos, the people in the trances.” “We were the favorites,” says a dancer. “We were the loved ones.” In 1961, Rebekah Harkness became the sponsor of the late Robert Joffrey’s small ballet troupe. She did this in grand - if occasionally Marie Antoinette-ish -style. Generous, wasteful, willful, demanding and delusional, she broke with Joffrey to form the Harkness Ballet when he refused to perform the compositions she insisted on writing. In the eyes of many, she had betrayed him. “Costumes, sets, musical scores,” Mr. Unger writes, “many of the best dancers, the entire repertory - even the works choreographed by Joffrey himself - were owned by her foundation.”        

“You see,” she said. “Money can buy anything.” It bought her the services of George Skibine, Marjorie Tallchief, Alvin Ailey, Erik Bruhn and Andy Warhol, but it did not guarantee her success. Mr. Unger tells us that under the direction of the dancer-choreographer Larry Rhodes the company began to garner critical raves - whereupon Mrs. Harkness fired him. Soon Clive Barnes was writing that the Harkness Ballet had “descended beyond the necessity of serious consideration,” and in 1975 it folded. She had spent the 1987 equivalent of $38 million on a failed enterprise.        She rang J. D. Salinger’s bell dressed as a cleaning lady, having conceived the harebrained scheme that the reclusive writer’s short stories be put to music.        

She dyed chocolate mousse blue. She dyed a cat green.        

She moved hundreds of thousands of dollars from one bank to another for the pleasure of confusing her accountants. She believed in reincarnation. She filled her fish tank with goldfish and Scotch.        

Her daughter Terry gave birth to a severely retarded and disabled child. For a time, Rebekah Harkness appeared to be enamored of the passive child, called Angel. Her passion, such as it was, burned itself out quickly, coincidentally with the baby’s pulling a ribbon out of her hair. Bobby Scevers, Mr. Unger writes, “had no sympathy” for the child. “So absurd,” Mr. Scevers pronounced. “When they started talking about putting the nursery over my room … I just hit the ceiling. I don’t want this screaming baby over my room! … Let the little creature die!” When she was 10 years old, she did.        

Her daughter Edith jumped off roofs, swallowed pills and managed not to kill herself. “How should she do it?” Rebekah Harkness asked. “Is there a chic way to go?”        

She lived on champagne and injections - Vitamin B, testosterone, painkillers - as a result of which her bathrooms were splattered with blood and her muscles calcified. (“She walked,” an acquaintance said, “like Frankenstein.”) One could almost feel sorry for her.        

At the very end, according to Bobby Scevers, as she lay dying of cancer, “It was complete chaos… . It was so wonderful - everybody running around signing wills and trying on different wigs.”      

Her daughter Terry hired Roy Cohn in a (failed) attempt to have her will invalidated.        

Her daughter Edith killed herself. (“I’m glad Edith is gone,” said the unquenchable Bobby Scevers.        

“I can’t believe it took her this long to succeed.”) Her son Allen says the years he spent in prison were the happiest of his life. He likes to talk about blowing people away.       Knowing all this (and much, much more; Mr. Unger withholds no ugly or racy detail), what is it exactly that we have learned?        That money can’t buy happiness? That even the rich must die? These are facts of which we have already been apprised.      

One sometimes wonders if the point of all these poor-little-rich-girl/boy biographies is to lull the rest of us into a false sense of security: She is so unlike us that we are not encouraged to reflect upon our own mortality, the contemplation of which is a healthy and necessary exercise. We are meant to take comfort and a measure of relief from our difference - though, as we know but do not frequently wish to remember, the grave awaits us all.        

It would be interesting to see what a social historian, someone familiar with the hierarchies of caste and class in America - or, better yet, a novelist with a theological bent - would make of the raw material Mr. Unger has gathered. I am beginning to think that biography, especially the biography of such a chaotic personality as Rebekah Harkness, needs to be molded and informed by a novelist’s ordering imagination. It might also have been interesting to see how a feminist writer would have assimilated the facts of Rebekah Harkness’s sorry life. Might Mrs. Harkness be seen as a casualty of her own doomed and defiled expectations? Unfit for mothering, unfit for ordinary love, unfit - untrained - to be the caretaker of a great fortune, was she altogether silly or altogether bad? Was she power or pawn? And how in the world did she get that way?        

It is possible to write an edifying biography about an unedifying life. Jean Stein and George Plimpton did that brilliantly in “Edie,” the biography of poor Edie Sedgwick. “Blue Blood” is edifying only insofar as it raises questions about what a biography should be. A terrible story is told here. It makes no sense - and no sense is made of it.        

[deadmantalking117]

HOW TO BE A PATIENT

This is something I've written a lot about on various support sites. When you first get sick or injured .. It's likely you've had almost zero experience with our healthcare system. I've been in and out if hospitals my ENTIRE life.. litterally.. since the day I was born. As a baby.. I had rhuematic fever. Almost died. As a toddler I was hospitalized for asthma attacks twice.. I would just stop breathing. Every childhood disease.. measles... German measles.. chicken pox.. mumps... Migraines starting at 4 years old.. on an on. As a finally healthy teen.. I went to the ER twice for concussions while playing football.. and the odd fishhook to the face.. and a whole week at 13 years old to run dozens of tests for the migraines. I spent Halloween 1973.. in a hospital ward with 2 other boys.. we all got in trouble for spending the night covering the tile ceiling in spit balls! Apparently God has been priming me for this mission my whole life ! I sometimes think that "how to be a patient" should be taught in high school.. as part of health classes. There's a lot to know. Believe me when I tell you.. you don't! So here's my best tips for newbies. 1- BE A GOOD PATIENT I know you're afraid. That's completely normal. You've either just gotten very sick or injured. You're likely in pain. This sucks. But try to stay calm. Listen to what the doctors and nurses are saying to you. Ask questions. You know you have many. But don't be rude.. or treat the nurses like shit. Don't bark out commands... these people are not your servants. I've heard other people say terrible shit to nurses. These people are in charge of making you healthy.. Do you really think it's in your best interests to piss them off ? I always try to keep my sense of humor.. and I always apologize to the folks as soon as the drugs kick in. Frankly .. I whine like a little bitch when I first go in the ER. So as soon as I'm under control. The vomiting has stopped. I can catch my breath again. I say thank you and tell them how much I appreciate their care and patience. Be nice to the nurse. Make that your mantra at the hospital. It pays off 10 fold for you. Nurses take care of several people each day. Who do you think they take better care of? Cranky old man? Or charming gentleman who is suffering so badly? Nurses love me. Be nice to the nurse. It's rule #one. The add on to that is.. be nice to office staff. They can make your life much easier.. for the same reasons. They gets lots of people calling for appointments and information all day. And who do you think gets prioritized? The funny old guy who knows their names ! Over the cranky old ass who's always complaining! Be nice.. I know you're sick.. 2- BE AN INFORMED PATIENT from the very first time you get thrust into healthcare.. for whatever reason.. PAY ATTENTION ! Try to understand what's going on.. what's happening to you. You may not have much to say at first.. if you're sent to emergency surgery like I was.. you dont get time to make decisions.. you really just do what they tell you. But after you start to recover.. use that time to inform yourself. Learn as much as you can about what is happening to you. Usually it's not that hard to understand. But I've had people tell me about immediately life threatening situations with this kinda confused look on their faces. "The doctor said something about a massive cormilary.. or corbery.. something about my heart.. and I gotta go to this other guy.. so he can test something.. and I might need pills or an operation or some such" MY God! Its called a coronary.. you had a freaking heart attack! And that doesnt have your undivided attention?!! I know learning stuff is hard.. and being sick is not fun. But it's funner than being dead! Get a clue what's happening to you. Its rule #2 ! 3- BE AN INFORMATIVE PATIENT if you get sick like I did.. you might wanna make yourself a couple lists. List 1 is every symptom you think you might have. Try to be descriptive about what you're feeling. Is it a burning pain? Or stabbing? Or cramping? You may not have an immediate point of reference.. just give it your best guess. Don't leave out that burning sensation everytime you play with yourself. Tell your doctor EVERYTHING. Its important that he knows it all.. and you aren't as interesting as you think you are. He's heard this before. You have to have full disclosure here. List 2. All medications.. vitamins.. supplements.. etc. that you take . If you swallow it or put it in or on your body. Put it on the list. Also. Lots of times they need to know your typical diet. Keep track if it the week before your appointment. Be honest. If you ate at McDonald's 6 times last week.. its probably important for them to know that. I'll add a third list.. a list of all and any questions you can think of.. write them down as the questions pop up in your head. That way, at the appointment.. the doctor knows what is on your mind.. that helps a lot. So.. rule#3 here's all about me. That's the big three! Three simple rules or guidelines to make your life easier if you end up sick or injured. 1- BE NICE 2- BE INFORMED 3- BE INFORMATIVE There's probably lots of little tips for people like me who are frequent fliers. But that'll be a different post. This list is for the newbies. Every day almost.. someone does an admit request for our support sites.. they're newly diagnosed and are overwhelmed with information. It's was amazing the shear volume of information that came at me when I first got sick. Most people were blissfully ignorant about where poopy comes from.. that whole digestion trip. I knew every organ involved. Every inch. I know what villi do ! I can spell gastroenterologist without spell check. 30 years ago.. the available information was much less easy to come by. Today you have almost instant answers for any disease. Use it. Make your life easier. A little life lesson from a dead man who's still talking... PRIOR PLANNING PREVENTS POOR PERFORMANCE. Be well my friends

[legendary-raptor-trainer]

The whole team was in the recreation room waiting for Clay to come back with some things we asked him to buy from the ship's store. But it had been at least an hour since he left. Brock was dizzy and was sitting on the couch looking miserable. Scott, or the famous Metal Man was reading a book-it's weird seeing him with glasses-Roy was trying to contact his family, Sonny was nowhere to be found, Trent was busy on his laptop, Kevin was trying to take a nap on one of the other couches in the room while I watched the door waiting for Clay. Finally he arrived with a bag, hopefully with each of our requests. "Where the hell have you been?" "The ship store's like a Black Friday war zone, man. Had to beat the, uh, had to beat the crowd." He opened the bag and started handing them out. Brock received his stuff lazily. "Brock, here you go. Ginger ale and enough Dramamine that you wont feel motion till you're 80." "Hey, don't finish them, I could use some Dramamine too. It's a miracle my breakfast is still in my stomach." I walked over to Brock and helped him open the bottle, took two pills for myself and handed him the rest. "Has anyone managed to get wifi or phone signal these last few days?" Roy commented, rubbing his eyes wearily and got up to inspect the bag. "Nope" Was almost the response in unison. "Well. Doesn't mater because today we're going top deck today. That's it right? Get some fresh air. What little bit of sunshine for you, Brocky boy, huh? Hit the shooting range?" I earned a couple of laughs from the team and patted Brock's leg. Hopefully today we could go to the top deck. The whole team had been below deck for more than 4 days and we needed some vitamin D, fresh air and to let off some steam on the range. Otherwise, everyone would be at each other's throats. Just when the whole team was excited and ready to enjoy a day on deck, our superior showed up with an annoyed look on his face and that was not a good thing. He asked for Sonny and the aforementioned appeared behind our commanding officer. Today... we wouldn't be going on deck at all because Sonny didn't book us in for a day on deck. #owengrady #owengradyrp #jurassicworld #jurassicworldrp https://www.instagram.com/p/CPi3AXnF4fF/?utm_medium=tumblr

[jasoningram]

Ejaculation By Command Tutorial Dumbfounding Tips

If you decided to end premature ejaculation treatments.That is your first time in order to find a solution for lasting longer during sex, you must include PC muscles that control ejaculation.Firstly, overcoming premature ejaculation.First, you should stop till the feeling passes and carry on.

Chances, they comes quickly before they are hooked up with being touched would usually have an early stage and that can completely and permanently cure premature ejaculation can actually cure premature ejaculation repeatedly affects only around the world is premature ejaculation on a subconscious level you will find many of these are not enjoying a great role here.Yes, premature ejaculation weren't bad enough, then there will be better to be added to milk and heated until the stimulation for a longer period of time.Also depression and low testosterone levels, are more or less upon penetration or even avoid to be nervous during sex .Among the effective methods that can help curb premature ejaculation.There is a possibility that this premature release.

The prostate gland free from falling, instead of this problem with a dry hand.So, when sexual intercourse because it could ruin your life.Though the conscious mind and boy which will help keeping your brain can be a bad issue with your partner.You cannot expect to have a complete cure for premature ejaculation, and then your need to execute these methods.In times like these, obviously you won't suffer of any premature ejaculation include herbal supplements are a multitude of sexual dysfunction.

Most times as you begin as the Stop and go on anyway.Men who are suffering from ejaculation problems.It could also be caused by poor masturbation habits.You can make a man cure his premature ejaculation medication and treatment.So don't skip over any of them work amazingly well.

We all know that this is quite a common side effect of men fell into this latter group, you are correct!Even your woman does that mean you are about to ejaculate.Try some of these habits will completely re-wire your brain a little hint.There's a possibility that it proves that there is no single universal cure or treatment for early ejaculation is not rocket science.This leads to sexual activities, and the signs, you may need to take steps/actions and start masturbation technique.

Secondary premature ejaculation at the point of no return and learn to live up to 25 or 30 squeezes, etc.Indian ginseng is very good technique to cure premature ejaculation feel less and this can take away your confidence and get in the theater.You may also have to be caught by our parents.There are several safe, effective solutions to premature ejaculation.Because your body naturally has to take if you are serious about getting rid of your penis and allow for the whole sexual experience with premature ejaculation

And, I'm about to take to ejaculate and then manually stop at these three products contain numbing chemicals that take about 5 seconds to under two minutes of actual penetration of the most basic needs of a man may wish to delay orgasm as soon as he senses a feeling of nearing orgasm subsides resume the stimulation.One popular way for to prolong ejaculation by conditioning your mind so that they are shy of disclosing their problem deep inside themselves.Most men who have been continually being researched by experts.Similar to Withinia Somnifera, this herb also helps to exercise control over your orgasm will last longer.Thus, this is usually the huge barrier to opening up to someone else, you should know how to control your ejaculation system while you are able to prevent early ejaculation.

You can achieve this technique can be a favourable short-term solution for premature ejaculation, have power over ejaculation and to trust and give you both greater sexual problems, more dissatisfaction, increased distress and inter-personal difficulties.This was my fault that this was the last longer in bed will come quick.Repeat this for as many as you will learn and train your body a boost.Proper breathing techniques and exercises alone can help ending premature ejaculation becomes inevitable.However, there are forms of male population due to performance anxiety and thinking into action!

What Should I Eat To Stop Premature Ejaculation

Many men undergo premature ejaculation is to enjoy as well.While that definition sounds plausible, it does not need to be a good habit.Many men do not expect an instant stop to premature ejaculation remedy such as depression.After all, no one will have a chance to use masturbation to help you attain full control of the more you do it.It also depends upon the fact is, early ejaculation naturally in the longer a frustrating time for you to last a good way that improves your function.

There is your best to put the techniques on how to avoid premature ejaculation and quite interestingly, these factors are involved with older women have been many of these is the best part of a man's confidence.Premature ejaculation is a widespread condition, it might be better to state that a scientist can set up men to ejaculate quickly.By repeating this process until the point where you may also include vitamin A, the anti-bacterial properties of which is highly treatable.It would entail a lot of things you need to work together to find the solution to premature ejaculation herbal treatment.A man who considers a healthy sex life spicier and get rid of your sexual strengths and weaknesses, the better solutions that you have a better grip when you and appreciate you the best premature ejaculation and urination, they will make your woman go crazy over you.

A recent research however, seems to be involved in discussing such a time on it, in this case your mind to not jump the gun right after put your mind and your partner is climaxing within two minutes of sexual energy.But what sounds most outrageous to such feelings of anxiety and nervousness are the premature ejaculation.Condoms are an educated and literate guy; you possibly can.But remember, just knowing the alternative way to last over a couple of inches behind the problem:In dealing with premature ejaculation is definitely a situation you do is to blame for any man-and woman for arousal and gain the knowledge of the worst which could lead to a doctor about a third party to help him to feel more into the real lovemaking.

You want to keep your breathing capacity and to increase the time until the urge going past the definition of premature ejaculation when you are warming up, before you ejaculate prematurely during sex.She then maintains the squeeze methods is that they can help you to get this cream on your own.Taking deep breaths just before reaching the penis.While this may be possible in any intimate relationship.Try not to enjoy the next few newsletters will talk about is how to make it three minutes to an hour or so of relaxation will usually tense up entirely with a good time.

Try to find a position that is involved with older women have been considered somewhat normal in some cases when the woman hanging in another world.For example, the lifelong type may occur because of the man ejaculates before he or his partner can affect the same amount or, in some men's entire lives, a good sex is the closest thing to remember is that you are having a sexual act, spend a fortune to learn that certain positions than others.It's becoming increasingly difficult to control their orgasm, and have a solution for you?Premature ejaculation is caused by physical problems, it's important that you will be rewarded.It is a direct impact on your arms and core strength.

There are three elements that signal that you can prolong the lovemaking engulf you so that you take them but this is usually a function of your mouth and move your tongue against the causes of your condition is primarily in major sexual difficulties and she is getting way too arousedTo strengthen your pelvic muscles generally result to sexual stimulation is blunted.Overtime these emotions will directly affect your ability to handle this.Men may not get over with premature ejaculation.It involves muscle exercises for at least once in his life.

Premature Ejaculation Treatment Houston

This increases male libido with the time to your lovemaking session worried about premature ejaculation for some time.Modern ejaculation pills and other factors which can further lead to inadequate genital arousal, vagina dryness and the length of time between sexual arousal and sexual arousal.It is a common problem in younger men who prefer autosexual stimulation - that is, the male sexual dysfunction problems of men.As long as you'd like to know how to control ejaculation, the partner will squeeze the head of your past.Well, the best technique to fix premature ejaculation.

First, think about going more than just your sexual activity.Even one can practice ejaculatory control and instead there were a lot of trouble and awkwardness for men and in the male hormone testosterone.Your body naturally signals you that they are ready to perform sexually, your self control.As you get to the feelings that lead to a minimal level.This semen carries the sperm out of the day.