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[nessgasm]

"Just a naïve one arent ya?"

=HOSHINA SOSHIRO

Ive had brainrot of this man for the whole days.. also some karasu brainrot.

18+ NSFW. EXPLICT.

MARKING/BITING, OVERSTIMULATION,P IN V, SLIGHT BONDAGE? BLOOD,INJURY! ,W/PLOT,RAW!,HAIR PULLING, FEM READER!,BOTH PRAISE?, DEGRADE?,RIDING

the vice captain of the third division of the defense force, hoshina soshiro.

Or hoshina fuku taichō.

You were just a normal officer, serving also for the defense force and also in the third division.

You've always admired the vice captain from afar, well he has only greeted you once.... maybe thrice? We dont know.

The kaiju alarm has rang, waking the others up and moving quickly getting ready.

All of you moved fast to reach the vehicle in time. Others are now inside the vehicle, to reach where the kaiju is now attacking. You, also inside the vehicle and took a deep breath and exhale it, You look around inside the vehicle and it stops into the destination on where the kaiju is close, but not close enough to injure all of you inside the vehicle. All of you went outside the vehicle, readying you're guns

Pew pew.

There he was, wearing his armour, and also his double swords noticable,his closed eyes and the mask covering his mouth.

You grip ur gun tighter as the ground rumbles a little bit, due to the kaiju being hella big...

You prepare too shoot incoming kaijus, reloading freezing rounds to slow some of them up.

It was untill one attacked you from behind. As it attacked you, you managed to shoot it off and run away, hiding in a building gripping your bleeding shoulder.

Shit, those kaijus we're fast as fuck.

Your eyes slowly close due too the exhaustion from the blood lost.

But, you suddenly randomly woke up in a bed blah blah blah..

"Oh? Yer' awake! Didnt notice that." hoshina says with his signature smile and closed eyes of course...

Wait did you say hoshina?

ITS HOSHINA.

He sits on the chair beside you as you look at him.

"Uhm.." you say letting out a sound, well not entirely a sound but you dont know if its a word.

He flicks your forehead

"Ow.." you rub the place where he flicked you're forehead

"You're just a naïve one arent ya?" He says, looking at you while laughing " we found you bleeding inside of a random crumbled building, Ya coulda' been injured more!" He says while crossing his hands.

"Im.. sorry vice captain i had no where to go.." you say while sighing and also sweat dropping

"No, no its fine! You could repay me because i saved yer' life." He says while smirking at you.

"What.. kind of repayment..?" You say, swallowing the saliva thats been building up inside ur mouth.

"You'll see." He says while smiling, striking you with his signature smile.

NSFW AHEAD.

And thats how you ended up having your hands tied to ur back while riding your vice captain.. raw

"Yer' doing so well hm? Riding my cock like a fucking slut." He says, gripping your waist like hes holding on for dear life.

"Ah - ah- yes vice captain!" You say, tears welling up in you're eyes as the overstimulation consumes your body.

How many orgasms has it been? Two or three? Maybe even four.

You were slowly turning dizzy from the pleasure, no his pleasure That you were giving him.

He slowly makes his way into ur neck, feeling his warm breath.

He bites down a mark and it makes you arch your back and moan, he was still bouncing you up and down, like a fucking cocksleeve.

"I bet ya like this hm? Sugar?" He says, licking the mark, blood seeping from the mark.

"Y-yes Vice captai- AH!" you say, he moves ur body faster on his cock, there was a ring of white forming on it, due to the past orgasms.

Goddamn this man had a lot of stamina...

Well of course? What would you expect from the vice captain?

He pulls ur hair for a kiss, intertwining your tongues together, he was kissing you like a starved man.

While he was kissing you, his hands slowly made it into your clit, rubbing it in tight cirlces.

He breaks the kiss and opens his eyes. You saw his red eyes staring at yours.

"C-cant do it haaah..." you say feeling exhausted from bouncing on his cock.

"You can do it, just one more... one more.." he still kept rubbing circles on ur core, he was feeling you tightening on his shaft.

He felt good from all of this.

"C-coming!" You say.

"Come. Now." he says making you bounce more faster on him.

"Ngh- aahha!" You came, oh so deliciously on him,he soon followed after you.

You were both panting and huffing.

"Who said we were done yet?"

Hes so ooc for me.. AGGGHHHHH

[theramseyloft]

I go you already have my apologies but can you re explain your ideal bird that you are breeding for. From the looks of your loft updates you prefer standard non exaggerated features and minimal muffs and normal length beaks

No worries. ^v^

I've been reworking a few things while we've been stuck on hiatus, so there have been some changes to the plans for the future, and I don't mind going over them.

I am trying to develop a unique breed specifically for therapy work.

As many of my long term followers know: A feral pigeon, found in a parking lot on the brink of starvation, taught himself to alert me for anxiety attacks of crippling severity.

If he could not alert me fast enough to prevent me going catatonic, he knew to go get my husband.

And he worked out a series of behaviors to draw me back out of that state if my husband was not with me.

He later developed an alert specific to blood sugar spikes.

That's far beyond the scope of an Emotional Support Animal!

And I believe that if a pigeon off the literal street was naturally inclined to develop these behaviors, then temperament traits conducive to such service work can be selected for.

I aim to do that by combining highly intelligent Performance breeds like Homers, Rollers, and Tumblers with structurally sound exhibition breeds possessing a demonstrably heritable mellow temperament.

And I want this breed to have a unique look that easily identifies it so that it will be hard for feather merchants to counterfeit. (Yes, that is a thing that happens.)

So, my favorite embellishments in the breeds we are already using are going to be enhanced by a few exhibition breeds who exemplify those traits, and one specifically for color.

To that end, we will be utilizing these performance breeds:

Feral

I can get into whether or not this is a breed in itself in another post. This is going to be a long one as it is.

There are several risks to working with ferals, absolutely.

You can pretty much guarantee that any you may find have lice, one or two species of worms, at least two protozoan parasites, and could potentially have a whole host of other bacterial or viral pathogens with out showing any outward sign.

Anyone who works with ferals as a first responder must be prepared to quarantine them carefully, vaccinate them, and test them to find out what all you will need to treat.

But there are three huge advantages for the Assistance Pigeon Project:

They are the epitome of structural soundness. That slight, agile little body has come to be through surviving generations of environmental pressures from having to travel long distances to find food to having to dodge a wide range of predators like cats and hawks.

There is no better source of intelligence than the descendent of birds that have survived for generations on their wits and luck alone.

And no better source of an excellent immune system than the result of generations living with the host of parasites and pathogens that they are so often loaded down with in the wild. There is a reason you won't see any outward sign that a feral has anything!

Once a feral's parasites and pathogens are cleaned out, they are incredibly sturdy!

Being a domesticated animal, the offspring of ferals in human care tend to focus all the inquisitive brightness that kept their line alive in the wild on bonding and communicating with their care taker.

Racing Homer

The thoroughbred of pigeons.

If you do not count Ferals as a breed, this is the most structurally sound and intelligent of all pure breeds.

Hands down the single most athletic!

They are stockier, more aerodynamic, and far more muscular than the average feral, because they were bred to be able to find their way home from drop points up to and over 500 miles away.

It takes not just fine tuned musculature and metabolism, but an excellent memory and keen intelligence to adapt on the literal fly to the changes in environment and predator populations over such distances.

Because of their exposure in races to hundreds or even thousands of other birds from lofts all across the country, Racers also have the strongest immune system of any purebred.

Birmingham Roller

This is not a breed that flies long distances like Racers or Ferals, but as a performer, it is still required to be structurally sound.

Performances consist of flying in a small flock called a Kit to perform a waterfall effect of staggered rolls where birds backflip 15-20 times in a row in midair, straighten from the roll, and rejoin the kit, one after another.

They are less flighty than Ferals and less independent than Racers, typically working much more closely with their trainer: keeping within sight of the loft and earshot of the person.

This makes them a little more human focused and naturally inclined to be biddable.

Though many traits vary wildly by line, these tend to be very small birds; energetic, jaunty, and playful.

Aside from adding that wonderful temperament, they will help keep the end result small.

Portuguese Tumbler

I waffled on these for quite a while, mostly because of their very small size and absolute breeding overdrive.

But they are excellent parents despite being the second smallest breed of pigeon in the world, and, unlike the Valencian Figurita, generally don't need one of their nestlings fostered.

And that speaks very highly of just how physically fit they are.

There are a few big breeds among the ones selected specifically for temperament, so Ports and Birms should help bring the size down and improve the parenting ability of the blend.

But the real push was just how Exuberantly friendly and playful this gleeful little breed is!

There are two performance breeds I have no hands on experience with yet that I would like to add:

Oriental Roller

This one is a dual purpose:

Once again, a structurally sound bird of moderate build, because it is still flown in competition.

But what interests me is the tail.

This breed is one of the major components of the Mindian (Miniature Indian) Fantail, Bred to Indian Fantails too small to compete with in order to improve the structural soundness and preserve the fan.

And as one of the embellishments I want in this breed is a slight fan, this body type is ideal to help display it comfortably.

Turkish Takla

The Takla is a Roller breed, still flown in competition, and becoming popular in the US for its docile, biddable temperament.

It comes with or without crest or muffs, and I very much like the grouse muffs of this breed.

We'll have to see what the temperament is really like, but the bird is gorgeous, and I expect it will blend well in terms of structure, temperament, and moderate embellishments that are still eye catching.

Breeds selected for temperament:

Show Line Danzig Highflier

This breed is the single best investment I have ever made towards the temperament of my breeding flock!

They are intensely friendly! Every bird I have raised with any amount of Danzig in them has gone on to be a beloved cuddle bug of a pet.

My Husband's ESA, Cotta, is the closest we have gotten so far to the behaviors we want in a bird bred for Service work.

Not only is he my Husband's devoted ESA, he also acts as mine when I need regulation, and even Cheeto's when he struggles with impulse control or obsessive behaviors.

Cotta is so intensely human focused that he has organized Cheeto and another bird who was only with us temporarily to provide me aid during a very severe episode of vertigo.

That temperament has passed so reliable through Satin's family that I would have to be an idiot not to incorporate this breed.

Frillback

A shockingly mellow breed!

And not just because they could only be less aerodynamic if you gave them parachutes..

A great test to rule out learned helplessness being the root of any big or showy breed's apparent mellowness is to cross them with a smaller breed that flies well so the offspring will be more maneuverable than the big or highly embellished parent.

If the offspring that can physically evade you is flighty and nervous by nature, then the "mellow docility" of the parent is just learned helplessness.

But if that more maneuverable offspring is just as docile and tractable as the parent, then you can be pretty well assured that that really is the parent's temperament.

Frillbacks fall so soundly into the "genuinely that sweet tempered" category that it has passed on into multiple generations of my flock.

I won't use this breed much, because the curls are a little much and it's hard to find clean legged birds or lines with only moderate muffs.

But their temperament is so fantastic that it would be remiss of me not to use them at all.

Lucerne

This elegant Swiss breed borders on too mellow for its own good.

There are lines with peeps so quiet that they fail to trigger the parent's feeding response. Paired with another breed, though, even completely oblivious Lucerne will respond correctly once they see their mate feeding.

My first pair, despite hating me with the fury of a thousand suns, were so perfectly tractable that working with them was a breeze.

Some of my most out going individuals are crossed with this breed.

I love their structure and their very moderate Grouse muffs.

They have a shorter beak than I like, but it's long enough to be functional, and the other breeds will keep the beak from getting too short.

Show Type Racing Homer

This is another show breed famed for their docility.

While it isn't as absolutely incredible as the breeds higher on the list, I will be incorporating them for their very simple, elegant structure, and bold, out going curiosity.

Classic Old Frill

This breed is somewhat of an indulgence, I admit.

Of the breeds included for temperament, this is the one most likely to be flighty or skittish.

But I have such a deep and abiding love for what they are: A return to form to the original standard of the Turkish Hunkari from the now beakless Modern and Oriental Frills.

Basically, the avian version of the Retromops (If you love Pugs, you should look this breed up. It's a return to the original standard: a pug with a muzzle, that can breathe normally and regulate its body temperature.)

This breed was my first love, and I want to continue to support the breeders that loved them enough to write preventative measures into the breed standard requiring that their beaks never get so short that they can't feed their peeps unaided.

There is one other breed I want to add for temperament entirely because of the temperament of mixed progeny I have purchased for the breeding program:

American Show Racer

Titan and her Mother, Ibis, take very strongly after their ASR Grandmother/Mother, respectively.

Ibis was so friendly and outgoing on arrival that I was sorely tempted to keep her as a personal pet instead of having her join the breeding flock.

Titan, despite being very defensive when she was little, grew up to be so much like her mother it takes my breath away.

I am curious to see if this breed is really that sweet tempered and it really passes so reliably, or if Ibis and her line inherited their temperament from the Lucerne side.

There are only two breeds added purely for their embellishments:

Old Dutch Capuchin

I love the Danzig's mane, and I think a little touch of ODC will add some luxury to it.

My experience with this breed was not the best temperament wise, but I have read that not to be the norm and hope to have better luck with a different line.

Garden Fantail

This is the most structurally sound of all fantails, able to fully close the fan when not displaying to fly and walk comfortably.

I do not want a full fan in this breed, but Fans seem to be a partial dominant with variable expression, if my two half fantails,

Sher and

Soiree, are any indication.

Not a necessity, by any stretch, but I really like the look of a moderate fan.

Finally, there is a single breed I plan to incorporate for color.

Archangel

There are exactly two traits I want from the Archangel:

The dominant half of its bronzing, which results in a robin like rusty breast in heterozygous form

And the intense sheen of its recessive grease quill.

With luck and patience, I hope for these nine breeds; six for performance, six for temperament, two for embellishments, and one for color...

Add up to a healthy, long lived Therapy breed whose intelligence is not blunted by their laid back mellow docility and whose unique look sacrifices none of their structural integrity.

The breeder cap will remain at ten pair, hatch controlled between evaluation periods.

Babies will be evaluated for six months.

If neither is an improvement over one or both parents, both will be classed as pets and adopted out.

If one is an improvement over which ever parent fits the program the least well, or better yet the ideal blend of their parents beneficial traits, then that one will stay, the parents will retire and go up for adoption as a bonded pair, and the sibling will be made available to the public.

New blood will come in to improve what ever trait is most lacking after each evaluation period.

Offspring we produce may become available at younger than six months once the temperament I want is reliably consistent.

But I expect that to take a fair few generations.

[emptyheadwriting]

I leave this letter to you, beloved-Wednesday Addams x reader

Part two of Cherish Me Before I Perish, Please

Word count: 3.9K

I told you all it would only get darker.

Sadness below the drop.

Warnings: depression, suicide planning, suicidal thoughts and actions, angst, self harm, cutting, blood, self blame and self hate, cursing, alcohol.

—

Wednesday Addams sat in an uncomfortable upholstered chair, a starch white envelope in her hand, her name written in black ink being one of the only pops of color in this desolate space. Perfectly bleached white walls melted into the white square tiles all brightly lit by fluorescent lighting. The unnaturally white color that would normally have fond memories of dissections and autopsies surfacing out of the bottomless depths of her dark mind now was becoming nothing more than an annoyance and a constant reminder that the reason she was here was her fault.

The slow steady beeping of the heart monitor was all her fault. The reason that your chest was only slightly rising before collapsing back into itself with a stuttering fall was her fault. She was sure that was what the letter in her hand described, but she still couldn’t bring herself to read it, a pile of letters that were addressed to others ranging from her family to yours and everyone in between sat neatly opened, the girl with bloodshot eyes had read them all. It was torture to read your typed-out apologies, the way you said no one was to blame for your actions and that you hoped they all remembered you fondly without mourning you too deeply. How could you be so selfless even in your planned passing? The raven-haired woman asked herself, especially considering that as your lover she could not manage to change enough or fast enough to stop the deterioration of your mental state.

A nearby clock tower rang loud enough to be heard through the thick glass windows. It rang twelve times to signal the turning of one day into the next and Wednesday let out a barely audible sigh, lazily dropping her gaze onto the envelope and the snap of a pocketknife being unsheathed echoed throughout the room. As the blade slid under the flap, the ever-unwavering woman hesitated slightly as she thought back to the worst night of her life.

—

The beginning of the day was quite normal for the two of you, waking up before the first bird could sing, morning dew still covering the lone window above the bed. Ever since your breakdown, Wednesday had done her best to sprinkle more love into your daily routines. Placing a kiss on your forehead before heading down the stairs, preparing two cups of coffee, one black and extra strong, the other with the perfect amount of milk and sugar to your taste before returning to the bedroom, where she sat to your now sitting up form, and you leaned into her side like you did every morning, her cold arm wrapping itself around your waist from behind.

After your coffees were finished you went downstairs in your nightwear as she started to get dressed for work, a soft melody filling the air from a small speaker, a sign of your presence that she no longer looked at with disdain, how could she? Especially not when she joined you in the kitchen and she got to see a small smile on your lips and the shake of your hips that were devilishly enticing, this morning especially so as she gripped them softly with a squeeze and placed a fleeting kiss on your neck to which you giggled at before continuing to make her lunch.

The minute she left for work your mood shifted from your happy morning to a blissful peace as you went about the rest of your day. You walked into your art room, eyes rolling over the large white sheets of canvas that hung down from the walls and onto the floors, “it’ll be easy to clean up if she doesn’t like it” you spoke to no one in particular, a habit you had picked up since you had started to plan your death. You walked over to your desk, sat in your chair, and went through the stack of envelopes yet again, it must have been your 100th time.

Enid Petropolus

“Enid gets my jewelry,” you said as you removed a necklace off of your neck, you didn’t want to short her of anything you left for her.

Ajax Petropolus

“Ajax gets my hand mirrors, I hope he gets the joke” an airy laugh left your lips as you remember all the pranks and inside jokes you and the gorgon shared.

Xavier Thorpe

“you better make good use of my art supplies, they’ve made masterpieces” you mumbled as your eyes flicked over to a stack of Artists' Magazines with your works on the cover.

Yoko Tanaka

“You get my only pair of fancy sunglasses, I can’t believe you still wear the ones from school” you shrugged your shoulders, “I guess it doesn’t matter you live forever anyways”

Mrs.Addams

“I leave to you my collection of black robes, sure you might have enough but change it up a bit,” you say with a roll of your eyes, you knew well just how little the Addams liked change.

Mr.Addams

“You have to accept a dead person’s money or you are rude,” you thought back on all the times you had tried to give the generous man the money you owed for the house, the cars, and everything else he had gifted, every time receiving the same shake of the head and knowing smirk that meant the money would end up back in your accounts somehow.

Momma

“You get my makeup, it’s fancier than what you buy, but still not as good as you deserve,” you say with pride dripping from your voice, the woman who raised you deserved the world.

Dad

“Cook some nice food for mom” a laugh left your lips as you think of your dad scaring up your fancy pots and pans, he never did learn to not use steel utensils on good cookware.

Your checklist of people went on and on, your little anecdotes disappearing as you got to the ones to who you left nothing but apologies and well wishes, and then finally the most important envelope,

To my beloved, Wednesday Addams.

You placed a chaste kiss to the point where all the folds met before standing up and walking out of your art room, you debated locking it just as you did every day since you had set the canvases up, but you knew that on the off chance that Wednesday wiggled the doorknob it would be more suspicious if she felt the tension of a lock.

The rest of the day went by much like normal, besides the way that every single thought was clouded with positivity and peacefulness, today was going to be your last you were sure and it made things so much sweeter. You cleaned anything that wasn’t spotless and organized your things into the groups you had assigned to everyone and prepared all the necessities for dinner so that it was an easier task later.

Soon enough, the sun was tucking itself lower behind the horizon and you sat in a rocking chair on the back porch admiring the pinks and oranges that would be the last sunset to grace your eyes. The gradient of orange to yellow to the last breaths of blues was beautifully balanced, paired with wispy pink clouds like cotton candy across the sky it was as if the world knew it was waving goodbye to an artist.

So lost in the dazzling display of the world's beauty you were left unaware of the buzz of the gate alarm and rattling of keys in the front door, it wasn’t until you felt a familiar cold hand gently laying itself on your shoulder. Oh, how much you enjoyed the way her cold could make you feel so warm, and you were sure that deaths cold embrace would do the same. “no kiss at the door my love?” Came her soft question, and you shook your head no with a smile as you turned to look at her. Your lover would have to adjust to not receiving greetings in the form of a kiss, but you knew she would be okay after all the action was more for you to get affection than it was for her, evident by the way she went to sit in her matching rocking chair without going for a kiss.

“Enid is in town, she invited me for dinner,” she said as her eyes glazed over your figure, “she suggested just the two of us since Ajax won’t be able to attend, is that alright with you?” It was new, this asking for your permission as if you would ever not grant it. Everything seemed to be working out perfectly in your favor, an empty house would be easier. So you nodded softly, “of course, send my regards” you offered, you hadn’t talked to Enid in some time now, not since the last time you saw her at one of your displays.

Wednesday stood, and as she walked back into the house her fingers grazed up your arm in a fleeting goodbye, she couldn’t possibly realize it would be the last you two shared.

Sunset turned to night by the time Wednesday and Enid were sat together picking at plates of food in front of them, discussing their current events and tales of the past. The restaurant was dimly lit and gentle jazz filled the room with a comfortable backdrop to the lively conversations held at each table where couples held hands, shared wines, and knowing looks. “and Ajax is just constantly in meetings, good thing he works in marijuana or I don’t think anyone would take him seriously” Enid said with a laugh, she was proud of her husband’s accomplishments even if it meant they had to spend plenty of time apart, “unfair of me to say not to bring your wife and then talk about my husband, how is Y/N? The last I heard about her was a bit concerning”

Wednesday cocked an eyebrow at the thought of you sharing bad news with Enid and not her and she hesitated to form a response, “she had a breakdown of sorts long ago…” memories of the night your heart-wrenching sobs rocked the house until daybreak flooded into her mind before she continued, “I have been trying to correct my mistakes, she deserves more than I can give” she says sourly, disappointed in herself for not being able to push through walls that she herself built for the sake of the one person she has ever loved.

“I just ask because I remember seeing something about her in Artists Magazine, do you get those?” Enid questioned as she pulled out her phone, typing in your name and nodding, “yeah here it is, Y/N Addams, goes dark and then goes dark, how one of modern times most beloved and skilled artists disappeared” she read aloud before sliding her phone over to the pale woman across from her.

Wednesday stared at the screen, there on the cover of the magazine was a picture of you, in a magnificent black dress, one she could recall her mother gifting you, her hands gently gripped the phone before she scrolled down.

Y/N Addams one of the world’s most prominent artists has disappeared as of late. The artist who has never shied away from interviews or quick questions from our editors has gone radio silent since we last saw her nearly ten months ago, leaving us with her darkest piece to date and now darkness on all communication.

A scowl grew on her dusty lips as she swiped over to the next page, half of it taken up by a painting, the rest an excerpt from an interview about it and her eyes darted to the words first.

This painting titled “The Impassive Object of My Affection” holds the darkest tale of any canvas that Mrs.Addams had ever put brush to, “I wanted this piece to represent a love unappreciated, a love built around one’s sacrifice, and one’s unspoken demand for it.”

Wednesday’s eyes shifted over to the painting, hoping to find a conceptual piece, not one that represented their own relationship. There was a fire in the background of the painting, and as she looked closer it was the fireplace in your house it would have cast a warm light over the rest of your living room that was perfectly depicted down to the skull and bone decorations had the painting not been perfectly monochromatic. In the center of the piece, Wednesday recognized herself, sharp features on prominent display with her natural straight-faced disposition, in one hand she held a cup of wine, and her other hand was frozen in a motional signal for continuance.

You were kneeling before her in a pool of what must be blood, evident from the way you held out your heart towards your spouse, a bloody dagger on the floor next to you. Your head was hung in shame, locks falling loosely over your bare back.

Enid watched as her best friend dropped her phone, tears forming in her eyes clouding the dark pools. The werewolf froze unsure of what to do, she had seen the painting of course but hadn’t thought much of it, it was usual for couples to have arguments, she assumed that the painting was a result of an argument that would have since been resolved, “you two must’ve made up by now, you two love each other more than anyone I know, I mean you got married fresh out of high school” she offered hopefully.

Wednesday shook her head no, as she grabbed her glass of wine shakily, bringing it up to her lips in hopes to give herself a moment to gather her thoughts, but as it touched her lips her head snapped back into a vision, it hadn’t happened in so long she had forgotten the searing sensation as the images floated through her mind.

She saw you, sitting on a tall wooden stool in your art room in front of canvas as white as the purest of clouds, a glass of wine in one hand, and a sharp knife in the other, a peaceful smile on your face as you dragged it across your wrist, standing and watching blood seep from the wound before you swung your arm towards the canvas, the blood dotting across it gracefully.

“I, I need to go home” her voice wavered as she came to, standing from her seat abruptly, not bothering to give Enid any details as she ran out of the restaurant and into her car, wiping at her tearing eyes with her sleeve, tires screeching out of the parking lot.

Pale fingers desperately unlocked her phone, quickly tapping on your contact, “please Y/N” she sobbed to the air as she swerved in between cars, ignoring the various beeps and shouts hurled her way.

You ignored the distant ringing of your phone, the soft sounds of a rainforest taking up your eardrums, as you slid the blade across your wrist again, a soft sigh leaving your lips at the blissful feeling of energy draining from you, as you danced to the rhythm in your head, your crimson blood staining the cotton.

Wednesday cursed herself for agreeing to meet on the furthest side of town, the drive home felt longer than any journey she had ever been on, mind racing but time seemed to do her no favors. “Mom, PLEASE, call her do something please, I can’t lose her, help me please” she cried, voice cracking as she held, she had given up on calling you after ten attempts.

“Wednesday you have to breathe, you are no use to her if you crash and die yourself, I will contact the authorities with your information,” Morticia said as she did her best to stay calm as her daughter sobbed to her, one of the rarest things to ever happen and just like it did now, it only happened in a dire situation. “I will call you right back, remember to breathe, I will be right back, and everything will be okay” she offered as she hung up to get an ambulance to go to the house.

“You don’t know that, I don’t know that, fuck fuck fuck” Wednesday yelled in frustration as her fist pounded into the horn, turning the last corner before she would arrive at the gate of your shared property. Pressing her foot further down onto the pedal, knowing she would not hesitate to slam through the gate, anything to get to you faster.

Her car barreled through the heavy iron gate, and she ignored the pain of shrapnel slicing along her skin, hoping, no praying to any deity that anyone had ever believed in that the gate’s alarm would snap you out of your head, and you would be at the door awaiting her arrival.

You heard the gate’s alarm ringing throughout the house, but you were much too tired to do anything other than smile weakly at it, you could no longer dance, you could feel death’s boney fingers gripping onto your shoulders, and just as you had predicted, the touch was so cold that you reveled in the strange sense of warmth it spread throughout your body. Your vision was blurred beyond hope as you collapsed onto the group, your blood mixing with the wine from your shattered glass as everything went black.

Wednesday had shot into the house, leaving her car running as she barged the door open thankful that you hadn’t bothered to lock it, a safety habit she had scolded you for before. Thankful for once that you did not listen to her. Her boots squeaked across the floor as she made her way into your art room, a harrowing scream leaving her lips as she collapsed onto her knees and crawled through your blood to your body.

—

It took a single tear to drop onto the envelope she had been blankly staring at as she was lost in thought to snap her back into reality and become aware of the way tears were freely flowing from her eyes.

The raven-haired woman finally dragged the blade through the rest of the seal, softly dragging the letter out, an audible sob leaving her lips as the neatly folded paper was signed with a lipstick stain kiss in the shade she loved the most on your lips, she slowly unfolded it,

Hello, my beloved Wednesday, I love you with all my heart and soul and I hope you can understand my decision, I have grown so tired. Of so many things, for so many reasons. Those I won’t address here, I know you have read all the other letters I left for the significant people in our lives, in those I’ve covered all the reasons that would have built up to my desire to fade from this world, and what I wish to happen to my belongings, if you have any objections you can change it to your will, you will always have final say in any matter of my life except for this one.

I know you never paid much attention to my artwork, so I need you to know many of my pieces were based around you, my love. Nothing in this world had ever captivated my emotions like you have, and I hope I have done your beauty justice in each brush stroke. If you have stumbled upon my last creation, you must know that I have gladly kneeled at your feet for our time together and given in to your desires, just as you deserve from a lover.

I leave you with an art piece I know you will appreciate, you always did love blood, enough to make a career of it. I hope my blood splatters distinctly enough for you to keep the canvas hung up proudly. (I smiled so widely at the thought of creating something you would love).

Wednesday could picture the smile on your face, and it ruined her to realize it had been far too long since she had seen your genuine full-toothed smile that would fill her cold heart with the slightest hint of happiness. It pained her to wonder if she would ever see it again.

I know you believe that death is final and that there is nothing more than this life, but you must know that my love for you will endure. It will be evident in the way the colors paint the sky each morning and afternoon. Noticeable in the plants that grow around the property. Unmistakable in all my works that were centered around you. (I have run out of synonyms, but I hope my point has gotten across)

I do have one last request for you to fulfill for me my darling.

Bury me with my ring, somewhere where no one will ever be able to take it from my finger.

For I was promised forever,

And I intend on seeing it through,

Your wife, Y/N.

(Alternative Sadder Ending)

Wednesday’s hands shook rapidly, the letter ruffling from her force. She placed the paper beside the opened envelopes and stood from her chair, willing her muscles to move her forward despite their pleas to remain seated, far away from your lifeless body.

She gently stroked the curve of your face when she reached your bedside. “Please my love, come back to me” she whispered, as her hand slid down to intertwine with yours.

“I promise you I will be better, no more trying, I will be better, in every aspect I have ever failed you in, I will go to every single one of your shows, listen to all your stories, dance along with you in moves that I don’t know to songs I have never heard, we can sell the cabin, move somewhere else, restart everything, paint the walls lively colors, decorate to both of our tastes, tell you how much I appreciate you at every moment, I can not believe I have failed you in every way possible, how could you still want forever with me?” She bargained, squeezing your hand at each promise, watching as her tears fell onto your skin, wondering if the result of her anguish would hold enough life force to bring you back to her.

The heart monitor steadily beeped as normally as it had been for the entire time she had been seated in this hospital room that screamed of death as if mocking her for holding out hope.

She had to tear her eyes away from your body, squatting down next to your hospital bed leaving her hand in yours.

A gentle squeeze of her hand had her shooting back up, clutching at your arm desperately, “darling I’m here, I’m right here, please Y/N wake up” she begged as she scrambled to press the emergency button.

She would do anything in her power to have you back, and she took a step back as nurses and doctors rushed into the room, and she caught glances between their bodies, lips upturning as she saw the slightest of movements under your eyelids and the whispers full of hope about your awakening from the staff.

You would be coming back to her, back to where you belonged and she swore to herself to pour herself into you as she should’ve since your relationship began.

“I will be better, no exceptions”

--

Tag List for all Fics:

@wandaszn

If you would like to be added to the list for all of my works just let me know, I did not want to tag everyone I tag for The Last Heir AU just incase.

Please know that if you are feeling these kinds of thoughts that there are so many resources for you to use to reach out to that will lend an ear. Remember that you are loved in so many more ways by so many more people than you could ever possibly imagine, your life is worth so much.

[wildestdreamsblog]

So I had my blood tested yesterday and results were hmmmm not really alarming but my fasting sugar is 2.49 and the normal range is 3.50 to 6.40. Last year, my sugar was also lower than normal but not this low

Survey: should I start getting worried? 😅

[katarh-mest]

alcohol PSA for writers

If your characters are drinking alcohol, but you yourself have never had any alcohol, it can be very VERY obvious if you have them get drunk within the first few sips of a strong drink.

Continue below if you want some education from a professional lush.

Alcohol actually takes some time to absorb in the bloodstream and start impacting behavior. It's why it is such a dangerous drug, and SO easy to abuse.

At a minimum, most people take at least 10 minutes before they start to get it circulating through the blood stream. That's on an empty stomach. You might have other effects besides the ethanol poisoning - strong liquor can make someone cough if they're not expecting it - but the euphoria and lowered inhibitions don't kick in for quite a while if you are drinking lower ABV stuff.

Most liquor is not drunk straight. Exceptions are things like whiskey and fortified wines like cognac. Mix the drinks with something non alcoholic, usually cut with sugar. Your characters are not going to down straight vodka (unless it's Mao Mao... then she totally would.)

Beer, wine, and ciders range in ABV from 3% (weaker beers) to 15% (stronger wines) compared to liquors which start at 20% ABV for the most part. The whiskey I drink straight is 35% ABV... and I drink it very slowly, very carefully, about 10 drams at a time (roughly 1.5 oz or so.) That is, one "standard" drink.

Other standard drinks: One 5% beer (12 oz can or bottle), one 5 oz pour of 15% wine, and 1.5-2 oz of a liquor that is 35%-40% (80 proof), vs a 0.75-1 oz pour of a 150 proof liquor. Proof maxes out at 190 and that's Everclear, aka 95% pure ethanol. 100 proof is 50% alcohol and you'll find that in things like vodka, gin, and tequila. These DO have flavors! But the flavors are buried underneath the ethanol, and need to be thinned out to be tasted, so they're almost always cut with something else to make the alcohol not be unpalatable.

If I'm drinking, here's about the levels of alcohol and how they affect me (I'm a 44 year old woman that has fairly high tolerance. Use this guide as a metric for your characters who can handle their liquor. Move everyone down a level if they are "lightweights" or have never had alcohol at all.)

1 standard drink makes me happy and pleasant, fun and giggly. I can still think, I can still drive as long as I've had something to eat and waited 30-45 minutes, and I get some of my best house cleaning done in this state

2 standard drinks make me slightly buzzed and approaching unsafe to drive (I hand over my keys at this point to the DD). Still fun and giggly, but also starting to lose my inhibitions. More likely to break something while cleaning.

3 standard drinks start to impair my ability to speak with my normal levels of clarity and articulation. I am not yet slurring my words, but my brain's CPU is now overheating.

4 standard drinks takes me out of the happy space and starts to make me sick. Its no longer fun. I cannot stand up straight. This is binge drinking.

5 standard drinks is going to have me vomiting if I drunk them too fast. I've got high tolerance so if I ate food I'll be okay, but if I don't drink enough water, I'll be hung over the next day.

If I'm beyond this, I'm probably passed out someplace. All but once that 1 time has been at home (that time I woke up on the couch of the fraternity whose party I was at. I was okay. I was lucky. Thank you, Alpha Kappa Psi bros, for putting me on the couch and giving me a glass of water. You were the MVPs.)

Alcohol is a poison. It is a poison. It's a delicious poison, and humans have the ability to process it, but it's still something that will make you very sick or kill you if you go too fast.

BONUS: High tolerance, low tolerance, and a tendency to alcoholism are all somewhat genetic. Our bodies need two enzymes to process alcohol, and if one processes fast and the other processes slow, the result is that some people "handle their liquor" naturally well, and others are going to be "lightweights" no matter how much they practice. Some folks actually get 0 of the happy euphoria from alcohol and go straight into the poison symptoms (this is known as "Asian Flush Syndrome" but it can impact people from any part of the world.) These folks will get sick from a single "standard" drink - but they are unlikely to ever get drunk, because they'll get sick long before they drink enough alcohol to reach that point. They make some of the best DDs out there, though, so if you know someone who experiences it, make them your best friend, offer to buy their coca colas and bar snacks, and hand them the keys after you have had drink #2.

[suzieb-fit]

It's a pretty yucky day, which matches me right now, lol.

Just doing the best I can until I'm back into the motivation mojo.

Tired in mind, body and spirit, but absolutely sure of the fact of it being a temporary glitch.

Not so good. But I'll get better as soon as my blood sugars start behaving. Willing the pod/CGM loop to finally catch up to how my body works, so I can feel normal again.

Before this, I was in range 75-80% of the time on average. This ain't good.

But....still trying to hold my patience.

After a short two miles in the rain this morning, I'm now 65 miles into my 100 mile charity challenge goal so far.

I also did a half hour resistance band training session with one of my online clients.

I've stuck with a half decent fast time and good food as always, and I'm just giving myself self care for the rest of today.

Heading back over to the homestead to see family. Most importantly, my three boys.

Treated myself to a cappuccino for the journey.

First proper hit of caffeine for a while!

[tj-crochets]

Hey y'all another "I suspect this is atypical but idk how atypical" question, this time about blood sugar! Okay, maybe a few questions

if your blood sugar is in the fasting blood sugar range, but you aren't fasting, does that count as low blood sugar?

2. Is it normal to have low blood sugar symptoms at not-technically-low-blood-sugar levels (today, 93)? Like, especially when it's that way when you have not been fasting, but also in general

3. How do you word "hey doc my records say you took my blood sugar when I was fasting, but I wasn't fasting. That was like an hour, hour and a half after lunch and I'd downed half a gatorade before I walked into the office and my blood sugar was in the 80s. Is that...maybe...a problem? That it's happened twice?" in a way doctors will care about?

[rmlpathology]

Understanding Different Types of Diabetes and Their Impact on the Body

Diabetes is a chronic condition that affects millions of people worldwide. It disrupts the body's ability to regulate blood sugar (glucose) levels, leading to serious health complications if not managed properly. There are several types of diabetes, each with unique characteristics and impacts on the body. This article will explore the different types of diabetes, how they affect the body, and the tests provided by RML Pathology to diagnose and manage this condition.

1. Type 1 Diabetes

Description:

Type 1 diabetes is an autoimmune disease where the immune system mistakenly attacks and destroys insulin-producing beta cells in the pancreas. This results in little to no insulin production, which is essential for regulating blood sugar levels.

Impact on the Body:

Requires lifelong insulin therapy.

Increases the risk of complications such as diabetic ketoacidosis (DKA), a potentially life-threatening condition.

Long-term complications include cardiovascular disease, kidney damage (nephropathy), nerve damage (neuropathy), and vision problems (retinopathy).

Can cause frequent urination, excessive thirst, extreme hunger, weight loss, fatigue, and irritability.

2. Type 2 Diabetes

Description:

Type 2 diabetes is the most common form of diabetes. It occurs when the body becomes resistant to insulin or when the pancreas does not produce enough insulin. Lifestyle factors such as obesity, poor diet, and lack of exercise significantly contribute to its development.

Impact on the Body:

Often managed with lifestyle changes, oral medications, and sometimes insulin.

Can lead to complications like heart disease, stroke, kidney disease, eye problems, and nerve damage.

Symptoms include increased thirst, frequent urination, increased hunger, fatigue, blurred vision, slow-healing sores, and frequent infections.

3. Gestational Diabetes

Description:

Gestational diabetes occurs during pregnancy when the body cannot produce enough insulin to meet the increased needs. It usually resolves after childbirth but increases the risk of developing type 2 diabetes later in life.

Impact on the Body:

Can cause high blood pressure during pregnancy (preeclampsia).

Increases the risk of having a large baby, leading to complications during delivery.

May result in low blood sugar levels in the newborn and a higher risk of obesity and type 2 diabetes in the child later in life.

4. Prediabetes

Description:

Prediabetes is a condition where blood sugar levels are higher than normal but not high enough to be classified as type 2 diabetes. It is a critical stage for intervention to prevent the progression to type 2 diabetes.

Impact on the Body:

Often reversible with lifestyle changes such as diet and exercise.

Increases the risk of developing type 2 diabetes, heart disease, and stroke.

Symptoms are often absent or mild, making regular screening important.

Tests Provided by RML Pathology

RML Pathology offers a comprehensive range of tests to diagnose and manage diabetes effectively. These include:

Fasting Blood Glucose Test:

Measures blood sugar levels after fasting for at least 8 hours.

Helps diagnose diabetes and prediabetes.

HbA1c Test:

Provides an average blood sugar level over the past 2-3 months.

Used to diagnose diabetes and monitor long-term glucose control.

Oral Glucose Tolerance Test (OGTT):

Measures the body's response to a glucose solution.

Commonly used to diagnose gestational diabetes.

Random Blood Sugar Test:

Measures blood sugar levels at any time of the day.

Useful for diagnosing diabetes when symptoms are present.

Gestational Diabetes Test:

Specifically designed for pregnant women to detect gestational diabetes.

Conclusion

Understanding the different types of diabetes and their impact on the body is crucial for effective management and prevention. Regular testing and early detection play a vital role in managing diabetes and preventing complications. RML Pathology provides a wide range of diagnostic tests to help you monitor and manage your diabetes effectively. If you have any symptoms or risk factors for diabetes, consider visiting RML Pathology for a comprehensive evaluation.

Contact RML Pathology Today:

📞 7991602001, 7991602002 📞 0522-4034100 🌐 www.rmlpathology.com

Experience the best in diagnostics with RML Pathology – where your health is our priority.

[meditating-dog-lover]

Blood work results

I got my first set of bloodwork results. Things look good, though I am concerned about my insulin/blood sugar and male sex hormones (I'm a woman).

My insulin and blood sugar levels are within the normal range, but high-normal. Same with a lot of my androgens and androgen stimulating hormones. I have elevated testosterone levels (not too high, just a bit). I'm concerned that I may have insulin resistance or PCOS. My sister has both conditions. Though after my annual woman's health exam, my doctor said everything looked fine. Also my lipid panel looks great, and these are elevated in women with PCOS.

I have low levels of some omega-3 fatty acids, but I've switched to fish oil which contains them, unlike flaxseed oil. Even my thyroid hormone levels went down compared to my last test. I wonder why.

I absolutely know for a fact that I've recently been overweight. And definitely stressed. I've been implementing intermittent fasting for 4 months. I have lost weight and I am convinced I have more to lose. If these are the results that appeared on my bloodwork, then it's an indication that I need to lose further weight. Type 2 diabetes runs in my family, so I don't want to experience that and due to the predisposition, I need to maintain that low/normal body weight, do IF, and eat well. I was pretty slim in 2018, but I had an ED. I want to go back to a similar body weight but with IF and balanced non-restrictive eating as opposed to calorie and food restriction.

In 2021 I did blood work and my glucose levels were fine. I was eating a lot of sugar and junk and was stressed and in an awful mood and had poor sleep, though I was active and in slim shape. I know stress and sleep and physical activity do play a role in insulin and blood sugar issues and not just eating a lot of sugar and carrying extra weight. I know walking helps a lot too. I do need to work on my stress though. With all of the news from Gaza and my terrible eczema I got much more stressed. I'm sure the stress made my eczema worse and it was awful this year. I don't recall my eczema being as bad in 2021 though. I wonder if there's a hormonal link to eczema now that I think of it. And my sleep is better now, thankfully.

All I can really do is to continue IF, continue to shed more fat, manage stress, continue my good sleeping habits, continue to walk a lot, and don't eat a lot of sugar and junk (my diet is better now, thankfully). Perhaps some supplement ingredients can also help, like chromium, berberine, and inositol. I'm very happy with my D3/K2 and magnesium and now my fish oil supplements. I'm going to find a go-to multivitamin that can help with my hormones if possible, and a go-to gut health supplement that can help with my gut issues I discussed yesterday. I read a scientific publication that illustrates a link between intestinal permeability and insulin resistance. It would not surprise me that gut issues can cause hormonal imbalances such as what I'm seeing. And increased testosterone can be caused by insulin sensitivity/elevated blood glucose (not necessarily with PCOS which I've never received a diagnosis for).

The goal is to lose fat and to reduce my stress, and to continue the IF, good sleep, and healthy eating habits. Eventually I will find a go-to multivitamin that can help with my hormones and a go-to gut health supplement which can help my gut and in turn, my eczema and hormonal issues.

[valdiis]

Went to the labs for fasting bloodwork yesterday. Now, to understand this, you have to know that two years ago, my A1C (a key indicator of diabetes) was at 6.1. The threshold for prediabetes is 6.0. One year ago, it was 6.8. The threshold for diabetes is 7.0 (I think).

As of yesterday, my A1C was 5.9. And my fasting blood sugar was within a normal range as well.

I'm no longer prediabetic! \o/

(This is likely only possible due to diet/exercise changes and some medications I'm taking. But still, I'll take the W.)

[feverinfeveroutfic]

blood & wine | chapter two of six

I had only just finished the babka, the kugel, and the matzo soup when my phone rang, and he had called me to tell me that he had landed at the airport and he was on his way home for the time being. That gave me time to work on his birthday cake, and I knew I had a metallic dome in the kitchen to hide it once he came about.

A nice decadent devil's food cake for his day coming up there, complete with all the chocolate frosting and the cherries on top. A devil's food cake for my little devil on his special day.

The whole apartment smelled of cinnamon, pasta, chicken soup, and chocolate once I was done with it all, and that point, I myself was feeling rather famished. I put the dome over his birthday cake and tucked it into the very back of the fridge lest he take a peek in there that night.

No sooner had I made myself a little pastrami sandwich when a knock on the door caught my attention. With my free hand, I ran my fingers through my hair, and I hurried my way up to the front door. I swallowed down the final bites of the sandwich and licked my fingers, and then I flung the door open.

He was starting to grow out his bangs a little bit, but they hugged his face and his brow now, and he had dyed his gray streak some time ago: the dye was beginning to wear off and that little sliver of gray at the top of his head was starting to make a comeback. He wore a little black leather jacket that fit him rather snugly over his little red T-shirt: I saw he had lost a little weight over the last month as his shirt was just short of laying flat on his belly. But he had gained a little shape to his hips and his legs, though, and I couldn't help but let my eyes wander on him and the way his jeans fit him.

“Quite a surprise to see you here,” I told him, still with my mouth full.

“What, for right now or later on for my birthday?” he retorted, and I nearly choked from laughing. I finally swallowed and set a hand on his shoulder.

“You tell me,” I said, and then I gestured for him to come on in. He sniffed the air once the door was closed behind him.

“Do I smell kugel?” he asked me.

“As a matter of fact, you do!” I declared. “I made kugel and babka for Rosh Hashanah.”

He closed his eyes and rested a hand on his chest. He then opened his eyes part of the way as if he was preparing to seduce me.

“My grandma made me babka before I left, so... I shall see what you've got for me.” His voice was low and quiet, as if he whispered a secret to me. Alex never took his jacket off as he strode into the kitchen with me: I had taken the babka out of the oven and let it rest on the counter for almost an hour, but I knew it was getting close to readiness. He stood there before the cooling rack with his hands on the edge of the counter, and he leaned forward for a whiff of the top, a braided loaf of phyllo dough with marbling from the chocolate and the kiss of cinnamon and sugar.

“Mmm... smells like home,” he declared in a near whisper.

“So what do you do for Yom Kippur?” I asked him.

“It’s a Day of Atonement,” he replied in a normal voice. “We basically fast and repent all day, and this includes breaking up some cheap bread and tossing it into a nearby river. My grandparents always go to synagogue without fail, and sometimes my parents do, too, but growing up, I remember we’d worship and repent at home.”

“Interesting,” I remarked, and yet I could hardly take my eyes off of him and the way that he fawned over the babka on the counter before him as if he was looking at a chest of gold and all manner of treasure. “There are apples and honey in the fridge, too.” He flashed a knowing glance over at me.

“You know the tradition well, Eric,” he told me with a wink.

The next thing I knew, I was serving him a plate of apple slices with a little dish of wild honey straight out of the pantry. I sat down next to him right as he leaned back against the couch cushion and rested his hands on either side of his hips.

“I see you’ve lost some weight,” I remarked.

“About sixteen pounds,” he told me. “Considering I gained about twenty-five.” He rested a hand on his belly, now soft and nearly flat. “It’s a little weird, too, because my grandma made a lot of food for me and my grandpa.” Very slowly, he rubbed his hand over his belly, and then he raised his fingers and lightly raked the tips across the fabric of his shirt. I knew I was going to have difficulty in eating the apples, especially when he had learned how to worm his way into my mind, even after being away from here for more than a month. I was more than certain that I would have my work cut out for me once I served him his birthday cake in the coming days.

Alex reached for an apple slice, and he dipped one edge of it into the honey. He held one hand underneath it to catch anything extraneous, and all the while, he locked eyes with me. He took a bite of the apple and never looked away from me.

“Will you have enough room for the kugel and the babka?” I asked him, and I felt my throat close up. I could feel that familiar burgeoning feeling right between my legs. This boy was going to make a man out of me yet again: I could feel it in my bones all over me. I took a bite of apple myself, which was made all the more delicious and decadent with the wild honey.

“I think I might,” he told me once he swallowed the bite. “I ain’t turning down babka, either, especially not the chocolate one.” He stuck the rest of the apple slice into his mouth, and he turned away from me right then.

This was new to me.

Perhaps while his grandparents were out of the room, he picked up a few tips and tricks on his end by the power of his own hand. I needed to give him the ace up my own sleeve from thence forth.

He downed the rest of his apple and then rubbed his hands together.

“How 'bout that kugel?” he asked me with a sly smirk on his face.

“Would you like some?” I offered him.

“Oh, ho, you know it.” Alex leaned back against the couch cushion and rested his arm across the top, and he crossed one leg over his knee. It was there I could see his tummy; I was going to fill that little tummy with everything he could ever wish for.

I strode into the kitchen to fetch the kugel and the babka, the latter of which had cooled off a great deal from before, but I could feel the warmth as it radiated off the bottom of the pan. There was a part of me that wanted to waltz back into that room, complete with a bit of a sashay to entice him. Then again, I had enticed him enough already, and I was about to reel him in like the venom of a scurvy little black widow.

I sat back down and served him a little kugel on his plate: the babka awaited us in the dead center of the coffee table. All the while, he told me about his grandparents back east.

“I love New York and New England, that whole area,” he was saying. “My whole family has their roots there, so I just figure it's a place I need to go.”

“You're leaving?” I begged to him.

“Well, not right now,” he promised me with a shake of his head and a little smile on his face. “I have to make a whole entire plan and things like that. It's just this feeling that I have, this... persistent feeling. This longing, dare I say.”

“It's funny because—sometimes I have that feeling as well,” I told him as I shoveled in a few bites of pasta. “That feeling that... there should be more to life than what we've got right now. The question is what exactly.”

“That's my exact feeling,” he said, and I noticed he ate up the kugel at a slow pace. Perhaps to help him keep the weight off?

We chatted for a bit longer, and then at one point, I watched him rest his plate on his lap with one or two more bites of pasta left behind.

“What's the matter?” I asked him, and I resisted the urge to tease him a little bit all the while.

“I don't know if I can eat the babka,” he confessed to me, and he let out a low whistle. He had only eaten two plates of kugel, and there was plenty left over in the pan in the kitchen. Then again, he had those apples and honey prior to then, and those on their own had filled me up a bit as well as wet my whistle. But then again, it was Rosh Hashanah: we both needed a sweet beginning to the new year, even though I wasn't Jewish. He and I could both use the proverbial sweetness.

I watched him carefully as he picked up that pasta in one fell swoop and slipped it into his mouth with his eyes closed. There was something so delicate about his side profile, and especially when he was indulging in homemade food. I could only imagine what he looked like at his grandparents' house, eating that homemade food over there among other things. He swallowed and let his tongue fall out of his mouth like that of a dog.

“So good,” he breathed out, and he gave his hair a little shake with the flick of his head. I topped mine off, and then we both leaned back on the couch for a second.

“I hope it wasn't too heavy on the cinnamon,” I confessed to him.

“You were perfect with it,” he said with a shake of his head and a licking of his lips. I could see it in his eyes. He either wanted the babka or me, but I needed to know which was which once it came down to it.

I needed a knife for the babka as well.

I made my way to the kitchen for one, and I had the strangest thought nestled in the back of my mind. This weird little temptation that told me to go further with it all. Indeed, the more I thought about it, the more I realized that the full feeling within me was waning away fast. It waned away fast, and I knew for a fact that I could make myself as well as him eat more than we had initially known before.

I brought the long knife back into the living room with me, only to find that Alex was once again taking in the aroma of the babka before him. I returned to my spot on the couch next to him, and I prepared us both with slices of babka, in all its richness and warmth still intact. The spirals inside dripped with that chocolate glaze, and we were both greeted with the aroma of cinnamon. I then turned to him, and I reached over to his plate for a piece of his babka.

“May I feed you?” I offered him with a fork full up towards his mouth.

“Would you like to feed me?” he retorted back to me. I licked my lips at that.

“I'll feed you if you feed me,” I offered him again. “The couple of pigs we were.”

“We?” He raised his eyebrows at me.

“We.”

He showed me his tongue, and then he parted his lips as if he wanted the bite. I slipped the fork into his mouth, and he closed his eyes. He took the bite and leaned back against the couch cushion. I had awoken something in him once again.

He then opened his eyes and looked over at me, and then he swallowed the bite.

“This could use a little wine,” he told me in a low voice.

“You're not old enough to drink yet,” I pointed out.

“I don't care,” he quipped with a shake of his head. “We need wine.”

I pursed my lips. “I don't think I have any wine,” I said. He leaned closer to me with a hooded look to his eyes.

“I believe you do,” he whispered to me, and he stuck his fork into my slice of babka, and he brought it up to my mouth.

“Eat up, big boy,” he breathed to me. Just like him, I opened my mouth and took the bite, except I took it with my eyes open. Indeed, the chocolate was molten as it dripped down my throat, and the cinnamon caressed me down like a series of a feathers.

“That's gorgeous,” he whispered to me.

“Not as gorgeous as you,” I quipped back to him. I fed him another bite, and he did the same with me. We fed each other babka until our last bites: he stuck the tines of his fork into my own, the last bite overall, and he leaned up against my body all the while.

“What're you doing?” I asked him.

“You tell me.” His body was warm and intoxicating: I had made him something so decadent and lovely for the Jewish New Year, and now he was returning the favor. He brought his chest to mine as he held the fork before my mouth.

“Have a bite,” he breathed to me.

I took the bite, and then I moved my plate over to the arm of the couch so he could have more room. While I was chewing it, he brought his lips to the side of my neck: a little cinnamon kiss.

I leaned back against the couch cushion as he gently nibbled on my skin. I swallowed and parted my lips to let out a low moan from the feeling. He was getting me good, and we were going at it raw as well.

Unless I got him first.

I let my fingers wriggle down into his jeans, and it was right then I realized he had unbuttoned them while I was in the kitchen: the hem of his shirt had protected him from my point of view. The leather of his jacket as well as the warm skin on his belly rubbed against my forearm: he may have lost weight but he still blew up when he ate too much. I was about to reach his dick, hidden away in his underwear when I felt his long lanky fingers on my forearm.

“And just what do you think you're doing?” he whispered right into my ear. “What you want me to do,” I groaned back at him.

I then rolled him off the couch, past the coffee table and onto the floor. He lay on his back with his hair spread over his face.

I tugged down his jeans and revealed him to me: he was just shy of a full erection.

He may have paid me with a cinnamon and chocolate kiss, but I was about to give him the ultimate dose of both. I licked my lips and held my hair back with one hand, and I brought my mouth down to him. Cinnamon, chocolate, and a bit of salt and cream was just what I had asked for.

I moved my head down all the way towards his body so the tip touched the back of my tongue: no way I was going to do a full deep throat after everything we had eaten, but I did go in deep.

He clasped onto the leg of the coffee table with one hand, and he clutched at himself with his other hand. He whimpered and gasped at the feeling; I could feel him growing harder inside of my mouth, especially when I came ever so close to the deep throat.

His wish was my command, and my wish was his command.

His dick was sopping wet by the time I lifted my head and gazed right into his stunned face.

“How 'bout that for a welcome home?” I asked him with a lick of my lips and a sly grin to him.

“You think you can get a second dessert?” he sputtered to me with a clearing of his throat.

“I know I can,” I quipped back to him, but then he reached for me. He pushed me back onto the floor behind me with only one hand. He hung right over at me, complete with a hooded look to his eyes and his black curls dangled down onto the side of my face. He showed me his tongue again, and then he ran his fingers through the hair on the side of his head to show me his ear and the side of his neck. The right lapel of his leather jacket had been brushed back onto the angle of his shoulder, which only made him all the more handsome to me.

“Will you be back for Halloween?” I whispered into him.

“Absolutely,” he whispered back to me. He rested his elbow on the floor next to me, and the full round shape of his belly emerged out from under his shirt. His jeans still remained down his legs which in turn showed me the shape of his hip, and the leather of his jacket hugged the rest of his upper body as if it was made for him. It was so weird to think that he wouldn't be able to eat for the holy day.

“So you’re going to fast,” I muttered to him.

“Yup. In fact, I’m glad you’ve—filled me up for today and even more come Sunday.” He closed his eyes and nudged more of his hair back from the side of his head: his long black hair cascaded all around his head and neck like the windswept tendrils from a tree. “I’m going to need it for that day. A little extra poundage will keep me fed from dawn to dusk.”

“Let me join you,” I begged him, to which he raised his eyebrows at that.

“You want to join me in fasting? But you're not Jewish, though, Eric.”

“Yeah, but... I want to feel closer to you, though,” I pointed out. “And I wanted to know what comes next.”

He paused for a second, and then he showed me a little smile at that. He lowered his head towards my own once again, that time for a kiss on the side of my face and a lick of the rim of my ear.

“You feed me so well,” he whispered to me, to which he nearly breathed the words. “I should make you something for being so sweet to me.”

“What would you make me?” I asked him.

“I don’t really want to give it away,” he confessed to me with a little kiss on the side of my neck.

“You know… you look really sexy in leather, Alex,” I confessed to him.

“You think so?” He cracked me that little lopsided smile, that little smirk that indicated as though he was up to no good.

“What're you thinking about?” I asked him.

“Thinking about making you something for Halloween,” he replied.

“Like what?”

“I'll leave that as a little surprise for you,” he retorted. “A little trick up the ol' sleeve, dare I say.” He flashed me a wink and kissed the tip of my nose. No sooner did he do that when he moved his hand down inside my jeans to fondle me. And it was right then I remembered that we had neglected to have matzo soup.

We could have it for the next day. Besides, we could get each other off in one fell swoop, and no one would ever have to know, either.

We both were incredible forces of nature, and we were going to have enough babka for the night before Yom Kippur for certain.

[usascripthelpersofficial]

DOES WATER FASTING HELP YOU LOSE WEIGHT?

In recent years, water fasting has emerged as a popular method among those seeking to lose weight quickly. Unlike other diet plans that restrict calories or certain types of food, water fasting requires individuals to consume only water for a specific period, which can range from 24 hours to several days. Proponents of water fasting claim it not only aids in rapid weight loss but also offers detoxification benefits and improves metabolic health. But what does science say about these claims, and is water fasting a safe and effective way to lose weight? Let's dive into the evidence.

Understanding Water Fasting

Water fasting is a type of fast that involves abstaining from all food and beverages except water. The duration of a water fast can vary widely, with some lasting for a day and others extending up to 40 days, although prolonged fasts should only be undertaken under medical supervision. The primary goal of water fasting is to induce a state of ketosis, where the body begins to burn fat for energy in the absence of glucose from food. This process can lead to rapid weight loss, as the body consumes its fat stores to sustain itself.

The Weight Loss Mechanism

Short-Term Weight Loss

Initially, water fasting can lead to significant weight loss, much of which is water weight. When you stop eating food, your body uses up its glucose reserves stored in the liver and muscles. Each gram of glycogen (stored glucose) is bound to about 3 to 4 grams of water, so as these stores are depleted, the water is also released and expelled from the body, leading to rapid weight loss in the first few days.

Fat Loss and Metabolic Changes

After depleting glycogen stores, the body transitions to burning fat for energy, leading to fat loss over time. This metabolic switch not only contributes to weight loss but may also offer other health benefits, such as improved insulin sensitivity and reduced inflammation. However, the rate of fat loss can slow down after the initial phase, as the body adapts to the fast.

Health Benefits and Risks

Potential Benefits

Detoxification: Fasting proponents argue that abstaining from food allows the body's digestive system to rest and detoxify. However, the body is naturally equipped with organs like the liver and kidneys that are effective at removing toxins without the need for fasting.

Improved Metabolic Health: Some research suggests that fasting can improve markers of metabolic health, including blood sugar levels and cholesterol profiles, though more studies are needed to confirm these effects.

Risks and Considerations

Nutrient Deficiencies: Prolonged water fasting can lead to nutrient deficiencies, as the body is deprived of essential vitamins and minerals found in food.

Muscle Loss: While the body primarily burns fat for energy during a fast, it may also break down muscle tissue for protein, especially during longer fasts.

Potential for Weight Regain: Once normal eating resumes, there's a risk of regaining the lost weight, particularly if healthy eating habits are not adopted.

Safety and Precautions

Water fasting is not suitable for everyone. Individuals with certain health conditions, such as diabetes, or those who are pregnant or breastfeeding, should avoid fasting. Before embarking on a water fast, it's crucial to consult with a healthcare provider, especially for fasts lasting longer than 24 hours. It's also important to ease back into eating gradually after the fast to avoid refeeding syndrome, a potentially fatal condition caused by the rapid reintroduction of food after a period of malnutrition.

Conclusion

Water fasting can lead to rapid weight loss, primarily from water weight and fat loss. However, it also carries risks and may not be a sustainable weight loss method in the long term. While there are potential health benefits, they must be weighed against the risks of nutrient deficiencies and possible muscle loss. Ultimately, adopting a balanced diet and regular physical activity is the most effective and safe strategy for long-term weight management and overall health.

[samhainsx]

Okay, so does anyone have any tips to always be in range for T1D? It's Ramadan so my blood sugar is okay but I know the moment I'm gonna go back to eat normally it's gonna be very much messy.

Btw, if anyone has Ramadan tips on how not to cause bloodsugar spikes it would be amazing. I usually try to inject my insuline 20 min before eating but it does not always work.

That Pic is me after waking up for suhoor, suffering from low blood sugar so of course I had to eat the entire household, I put 5 units of insuline after realizing I might be high later on and as you see it's fine for a little while then BAM. 300 mg.

maybe the solution is that I just have to... refrain from eating too much carbs? but I've been fasting all day and those fine bouraks are waiting for me :(

[lucysweatslove]

Because I need to just... get it out, I guess (regarding the weird trigger this morning). TW: health, food/sugar, fasting, diabetes, weight, weight stigma, EDs, etc etc. There will be numbers of blood glucose readings.

So, years ago when I was on oral contraceptive pills (during the time of pseudo-recovery, btw), I also had a theory that they may make me mildly hypoglycemic. They don't, but I got a glucose meter + strips and stuff to test out the theory. I like data and numbers and whatnot, so it was kind of fun to just see how my body responded etc etc. I loved getting the data as I could in any kind of situation- how did my body respond to exercise? Did my glucose spike regularly? How and when? When I learned that CGMs existed, I loved the idea of them because continuous data that didn't involve several pokes. But, gotta prioritize people with actual diabetes, yeah?

I will also say: diabetes is one of those conditions that I have health anxiety after. There is a lot of fearmongering about food / carbs and diabetes. It's not so much about developing diabetes that makes me anxious but more so how I will be treated should I develop diabetes. The first issue: obviously as somebody recovered from a restrictive, weight-based eating disorder, being told I "should" restrict any food and/or lose weight (restrict calories) is terrifying. I literally cannot do that without it going into an unhealthy place. It's already hard to get atypical ana to be seen seriously, and to essentially be prescribed the diet that hurt me so much is terrifying. The second issue: people treat diabetes (specifically, type 2 and in some cases gestational) as a shameful disease that is your fault because of your weight. I want to be clear that I do not think there is anything inherently shameful about having diabetes of any type. It's just seen as this thing socially and I'm already hyper-aware of social perceptions of my body.

Back in 2021, my curiosity peaked when I found out about a company that gives CGMs to people who are higher weight. I decided to try it out- not in the sense of weight loss as this company wanted, exactly, but just to see how my body responds to various foods (especially to exercise). I didn't like the company itself as it demonized having blood glucose above 120 mg/dl in any capacity, even though it's totally normal / not an issue to have blood glucose go up to even 140 mg/dl or higher after meals. So I had a huge issue with how they wanted you to stay under 120 no matter what. But whatever. I didn't see anything then that was concerning to me except that when I do heavy cardio, I can get hypoglycemic, which I had already suspected but now how concrete data to say yes, it happens (glucose in the 40-50s mg/dl range).

The last time I had a "fasting" glucose level checked was about a year ago, when I had COVID and went to the hospital. I didn't have respiratory issues, but basically, the night I got sick, I got up to use the bathroom (feeling like I was going to throw up), and had a "near syncopal event" which isn't so much the issue as is the fact that when I felt like I might pass out, I collapsed onto the bathroom floor instead, and major muscles contracted and I couldn't move. Not full paralysis couldn't move, but my hands were contracted, I couldn't move my legs, etc. Rob was staying in his office (across the hall) as he had tested positive and we were trying to avoid me getting sick too. I was barely able to call him for help. He called paramedics, they brought me to the ED, I was able to move by then (it was about 45 min to an hour after), and then they did the CBC, CMP, etc. My glucose was slightly elevated at 108 mg/dl. My PCP wasn't too concerned- I was sick, and based on timing, she thought it was possible my body had pumped out some epinephrine which raises glucose a little bit.

The other day when I was rummaging for some AAA batteries, I found a (traditional) glucose meter and all the accessories. The strips weren't expired. I got curious last night and about 45 min after dinner decided to check my glucose. It was 114 mg/dl which is totally normal after a meal. But this had me very curious for this morning. So I decided to check it fasting again.

And this is where I got triggered, because it was higher than last night's post-meal value. At 116 mg/dl. I checked it again and it said 110 mg/dl. This seemed super weird to me, because that is very firmly "pre-diabetes" level, and I was kind of hungry. I found some old control solution, and tried that out... it read kind of high for the low control solution (60mg when it's supposed to be like 24-58 mg/dl) and low for the high one (like 214 mg/dl when it's supposed to be like 250-350 mg/dl). So my confidence in that meter is basically 0, but it still triggered that fear of developing diabetes.

Usually one-off readings like this aren't triggering in any way because I can explain it. If I was consistently eating high carb meals, okay. If there was evidence of delayed gastric emptying, okay. But my snack last night was vegetables + ranch dip (not many carbs at all), I've been quite active the past 5 weeks, and I even did a real calorie restriction where I was very meticulous for a couple weeks when I was worried about something going on with my thyroid. So by all accounts, my fasting glucose should be going down, not having a one-off high reading. I'm also not much heavier than I was last year- maybe a few lbs but it just feels very weird for there to be any impact on glucose and I just am confused by it.

I know not eating / skipping meals isn't going to do anything, but I'm just having a hard time actually getting myself to eat after this. It's irrational in every sense of the word, and I don't even know what I think will even happen (for example, glucose will not continue to drop with prolonged fasting, and I know this). So idk. I think it's more like, this feels like "permission." Like oh, if my glucose is actually high, nothing bad is going to happen if I just like, skip meals. Oh, you don't really need to eat unless your glucose is low. All BS but that's the only way I can explain this trigger.