#i love you informed consent model

[hotsugarbyglassanimals]

every day i am thankful to have gotten top surgery within 4 months of making appointments and paying just 15 dollars

[jarofstyles]

Jarofstyles Fic Rec 2023 🪽

hello my loves! Here is our updated fic rec.

[some may be repeats of last year because we reread them!]

Also check out our fic rec account, @jarofstylesrecs for some we most definitely missed!

There are so many I want to put on here and I’ll update it again, but here we are! Let me know of any fics you recommend 🩷

WATTPAD-

Bambi- vanillasoy (or @queenofgraveyards here) (ceo soft H, in my top 5)

Flower- vanillasoy (bodyguard/grumpy h x sunshine ofc)

Devil’s Due- petite_cerise (classic dark!H)

Adonis- temptress_ (dark!H and fierce OFC)

Valhalla- temptress_ (Viking!H)

Baby Blue- theasstour (artist!H and model y/n)

Lucky Penny- alisonfelix (teacher h, soft, ofc finding herself)

Informed Consent- alisonfelix (college romance, absolutely tooth rotting fluff I’m obsessed)

One Night Stand- alisonfelix (short story, pregnancy one night stand plot. A lil angsty but cute)

Ladybug- _screamingcolour (50’s au, super cute)

Pirouette- _screamingcolour (ballerina ofc, so fucking cute it hurts)

Flower Girl- sushirrrry (idk how to describe but chef’s kiss)

Celestial- sushirrrry (WIP, it hurts but it feels good, nerdy h who loves the stars)

Wildflowers- latenightgab (assholeish tattoorry, single dad)

Jezebel- latenightgab (sugar daddy ceo x dancer teacher)

Office Hours- latenightgab (lawyer and professor H x student)

Pink Slip- stillhurtingstyles (plus size! Assistant y/n x boss h)

Always - styleslegend (my OG favorite fic, nerdy h x popular y/n, old but good)

A Lifetime With You- anenglishbird (supernatural au, witchy, adore it)

Inclination- peanutboyfriend (sexuality discovery, so good)

Aerial- peanutboyfriend (aerialist h and ofc, 60’s set, another top 10 fic)

1789- everlasts (period piece, just read it. French Revolution)

Breaking The Ice- sarbearfive (hockey!H)

Sail My Ridges- @1800titz (new but soooo fucking good. Piraterry, writing is phenomenal as usual)

The Devil is a Gentleman- @1800titz (again, writing is incredible. Kink heavy, lovely, bdsm club, masks, real estate agent H- just please read it)

Sinners Place- @shroombloomm (so fucking good, preistrry, all the good drama, 10/10)

Do I Wanna Know? - @eatyourhoneyh (trust me, stripper ofc. Obsessed)

Boston- witchysunflower (hockey h, cheating plot)

Haste- htownrry (pregnancy plot but unconventional, racer h, very good)

TUMBLR-

Prosecco- @moonchildstyles (older!H)

Gravity- @moonchildstyles (camboyrry)

Aster- @moonchildstyles (tattoorry grumpy sunshine)

Èlan- @moonchildstyles (bodyguardrry that pulled my heart strings)

firemanrry- @jawllines (softest H, made of sugar and the little puppy :( )

Ballerinarry- @jawllines (enemies to lovers, obsessed)

Young American- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (tattoo artists h and y/n, so well written)

Wolves- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (Wolfrry!!!)

A Good Fit- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (trust me, read)

LVRS CLUB- @0nlythrowharrybeaux (sex club slay)

Best Friend’s Dadrry- @gurugirl (exactly what it says. So good)

The Arrangement- @gurugirl (sugar daddy h!)

The Ex- @gurugirl (trusf me again)

The whole Knockout series- @freedomfireflies (yall don’t even know how feral this series makes me…)

404- @freedomfireflies (again obsessed, nerdy enemies chefs kiss)

Silk and Rope- @cupid-styles (dom/sub dynamic, so soft)

Only Angel- @cupid-styles (tattorry, experienced h, shy y/n)

Complicated Freak- @lukesaprince (best friends Dadrry is a weakness)

Rich- @lukesaprince (older! H, age gap,)

Mutually Beneficial - @cherryjuiceblues (Dom/sub dynamics, perfection!)

Could You Live With Just a Taste- @frioamor (Dom/sub, smut is mind blowing)

Love’s Divine- @atlafan (nanny!h omg)

Peaches & Cream- @atlafan (anything they write tbh)

You’re Someone I Just Want Around- @adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy & @sunflowervolvimp3 (I put this every year bc I reread it every single year. I’m obsessed. My Roman Empire. I’ve never heard ‘like real people do’ the same since.)

Please You- @adorebeaa (again just trust me)?

Wolfrry- @adorebeaa (please I’m obsessed w this and the smut is incredible)

The Dark King- @shroombloomm (so so so so so good, dark obviously but I love it)

Achilles Heel- @angelisverba (I’m obsessed w their writing and plugrry but this smut is mind blowing)

[radinclus-not-radqueer]

Radqueers are a cult.

I am a cult survivor, I have been one far before I was in the radqueer community. As a cult survivor, the radqueer community IS a cult. If you've never been in the community, and have only been an outside observer, it's understandable that you wouldn't realize this, but claiming radqueers are "just assholes" is a slap in the face to people like me who have been permanently traumatized by them.

Here is a commonly used model of how cults work:

If you go through every single point in this, the radqueer community checks almost every one of them. People have already pointed this out many times before, however I will explain it again for people who haven't seen those posts.

(Skipping over ones that don't fully apply or that I haven't personally experienced. Most of these are pretty brief because I don't think anyone will read an entire essay for every point)

Rigid rules - radqueers force you to include everyone and everything, and never question what you're accepting lest you get labeled as "not a real radqueer" and harassed. You must accept any and all predatory relationships, or you'll receive the same treatment as "antis". If that isn't "rigid rules", I don't know what is.

Rewards and punishments - you coin a term people like, or make an "I love pro-cs" post? Everyone likes you, praises you, sends you asks telling you how amazing you are! You dare to question anything about the community? You get cast out, banned from servers, harassed, sent death threats, and doxxed.

Dependence and obedience - radqueers make their victims believe that this is the only community that will accept them. They say that every other community will hate them for their identity, and this is the only "real radinclus" community. This causes people to feel trapped there, or in other words become entirely dependent on the community for validation and support. They convince people that if they leave, or do anything wrong that causes them to be forced out, they'll have nowhere to go. This forces them into obedience for fear of being left all alone and being completely abandoned.

Deception - this one is very, very obvious. There's a reason why radqueers label themselves as "radically inclusive", "pro-consent", "pro-bodily autonomy" - they are not just saying these things because they don't understand what they mean. They're intentionally using uplifting, inclusive language that sounds really great and supportive to deceive people into joining them. This is also why they use emoji codes, so other radqueers will recognize them but people who don't know what radqueers are will be lured into their trap.

Propaganda - pretty similar to the above. They label everything as "radical inclusion" and tell people that they have to support all these things to be "truly inclusive". They make cute flags and emoji codes to make grooming, abuse, racism, ableism, and transphobia seem cool and fun, to further lead people into their trap. By definition, propaganda is "information, especially of a biased or misleading nature, used to promote or publicize a particular political cause or point of view". All these cutesy emojis, symbols, flags, and terms are propaganda.

Discourages access to outside sources of information - radqueers constantly say that all science, psychology, and medical information is "biased" and "bigoted". If you provide them with any information on how what they're doing is wrong, they pull out any number of excuses and then tell their "friends" how bigoted and exclusionist the source is. This makes it seem like radqueers are the only reliable source of information, and anything else is untrustworthy.

Insider/outsider doctrine - this is painfully clear with how they refer to everyone who disagrees with them as "antis". Even if you're just an outside observer, you pick up on this quickly.

All/nothing, good/evil, us/them dogma - once again, they refer to anyone who differs even slightly in opinion as an "anti" or "anti in training", and the second anyone decides to question why they're literally supporting nazis and blackface, they get labeled as an "anti" and "horrible person". They play the victim any time they get told that what they're doing is wrong, while crying and complaining about how much they're harassed and about how "mean" and "rude" anti-radqueers are.

Feeling chosen or special - radqueers very obviously convince themselves that they're so unique and special, which is why terms like transship or transhasapetcat exist. They want to seem really cool and special, and make completely normal things into obscure, "special" identities, like calling yourself translivesintheuk instead of just saying you wanna move to the UK. As someone who's been in their servers, they hoard identities like this because it makes them feel temporarily special and unique, which makes them convinced that what they're doing is right.

Guilt/manipulation - radqueers do this all the time. When someone says they aren't sure if they support something or not, radqueers immediately get all teary-eyed and upset, claiming that the person would be "basically an anti" if they decided not to support it. I've even seem someone cry and complain over being rejected by an anti-transnazi radqueer and claim that it was "ableist" that the person rejected them. Everyone defended and comforted the person who was rejected, immediately siding with them for fear of being "ableist", saying that it was wrong to be against literal nazis. This is very clear manipulation and guilt-tripping.

Phobia indoctrination - phobia indoctrination is where people in the cult make others terrified of leaving for fear of being hurt, killed, etc. As I've explained earlier, radqueers try to scare people into staying by saying that if they leave the community, no one will ever support or love them, and they'll never be accepted outside of it. People who went into the radqueer community after being anti-radqueer know firsthand how awful the harassment, doxxing, and death threats from radqueers are. People in the community who have doubts are very clearly too scared to leave, and people who don't have doubts have been convinced that no one will ever love them except for radqueers.

Anyways, I hope that this clears up how the radqueer community is a cult! Feel free to add on with your own experiences or additions, and please stop invalidating and shaming survivors.

[scrubbinn]

Mimic HRT: month 21 “Mended patience”

“Mx, are you alright? Is there something I could get you, water, earmuffs? You can ask if there's anything you need.”

“Huh? Oh, no water please. And I'm fine. It's just…”

“It's scary, right? Dealing with doctors I mean. I'd imagine being here is scary enough. Don't worry, everything will be ok. Now let's see… You're Jasmine, right? Jasmine Elwood? You use Gard/Graden neo pronouns, yes?

“Y-yes, that’s right.”

“It's a lovely name. You're a bit early, but I'll page Erian to check if he can see you now. You can take a seat if you like, and be sure to ask if you need assistance with anything.” 

“um, are you a therian? I'm in the right clinic, yeah? it's just, I thought there would be others working here.”

“I'm an otherkin. A mimic. Almost two years in at this point. I just like using my human form when I work. It's tough to maintain but it's harder to work a computer otherwise. I'm currently an assistant to Dr. Erian, and also the receptionist for the next few months after the last one suddenly quit. I swear the more I work here the more I wonder how this place managed to stay afloat for so long. Sorry, I don't mean to make this place sound bad or cheap. It's helped me quite a lot with becoming who I was meant to be. I'm sure you'll find exactly what you're looking for here.”

“...Thanks.”

“Oh, looks like the doctor will see you now. But one last thing before you go in. You can choose if you would like to meet Dr. Erian alone, or if you wish for an assistant such as myself to sit in with you to make sure everything is more comfortable-

“Yes. that. Please. Uh, if that's ok.”

“Sure thing! Please follow me.”

* * * 

“Hello. I'm Dr. Erian, and you would be Ms. Elwood, correct? Is that your actual family name? You'll need to use your real name or else there could be legal trouble. Eitherway, I’ve taken the time to read through most of the files that were transferred from your old provider. It seems you just entered your first year on a normal HRT which is good, we wouldn’t be able to give you this treatment otherwise. Now then, let’s take a look at the documentation you filled out for me. You should be grateful that we’ve now moved to an informed consent model due to certain clientele. Ahem, anyways, it says here you’re looking to become a golem? Odd, with your name I assumed you-

“Doctor. Please focus on the client, and don’t make assumptions.”

“Right. Well, switching from a carbon based lifeform to silicon is tricky and involves crossing not just a species threshold but also a biological one. Not to mention there could be a lot of damage to your body if anything goes wrong. Perhaps you could explain why you think you're a golem?”

  “I, um, I- I’m sorry. I’m just a little nervous right now. I have trouble speaking sometimes.”

“Speak up Ms, I couldn't make out what you were- ow. Mayday! May I remind you that-

“Sorry about that Jasmine. You can ignore him for now. Focus on me and let’s take some deep breaths together. In and out ok? In and out, there you go! Do you think you could tell me what being a golem is like?”

“Um, it’s just, it’s just who and what I am. I can’t really describe it. It’s the only thing I can see myself as. There's some days where I just lie outside completely still and let nature move around me. It's peaceful.”

“Ok! Did you get that doc?”

“Sigh, alright fine. At least it sounds like you've been living as your preferred species for a while now. I suppose we can move on to other topics. It will take some time to formulate the proper medication for something like this, but through modern magic and medicine, it can be done. Now, we'll need to go over some paperwork, mostly an acknowledgement of potential risk. You could no longer be considered human depending on legal changes. I'll give you time to look it over.”

“Um, do… Do you know what I might look like if I took this medication? I know what I am but I'm a bit scared something is going to happen.”

“I could show you if you want, I have an idea of what you might want based on what you've told me…

…Well, what do you think? Oh! Please don't touch, I'm not actually made of rocks and you might poke a tooth.”

“Sorry it's just. You look like me. The real me.”

“Well doc? Think we can make something like this?”

“I suppose so, it won't have the specific details, but the general shape is possible. Let's continue the discussion on your treatment first, and if you agree, then we can have a prescription ready in a month.”

* * *

“You performed Adequately Ms. Mulberry. Perhaps you'll actually make a decent assistant, and it seems Ms. Elwood will have a bright future thanks to this clinic. There aren't any other client meetings today, so I'll have you handling prescriptions to send out to pharmacies. Before that though, how has the progress gone on documenting your species?”

“If you mean my mimicry in general, it's going well. I'll have my findings on your desk next month. If you mean learning about the other voice I've been hearing. No luck there. It doesn't show up unless I'm feeling some kind of extreme emotion. Looking back it feels like it wasn't just one voice, but several. It's hard to figure out, some of the others in the THEMS group have some ideas as to what it could be.

“Being influenced by the thoughts of a third party with no medical experience isn't going to solve anything. Please look into it further on your own. I can't move forward with patenting this medication without knowing if this is a potential side effect, or if it's just something in your head..”

“That certainly didn't stop you with me. Look, I'm still going to work with the support group if they can help. Plus when I start my therapy sessions it's going to be something that'll have to come up at some point. Someone else is going to be involved in this. What you should be focusing on right now is Jasmine's treatment.”

“Yes I really should start working on her tre-

“You mean garden treatment. And stop saying Ms. It's Mx. Gard listed garden gender as a non-binary option.”

“Yes, whatever. I have a lot of things to keep track of. Can't keep up with every little detail about a patient. That's your job now, and don't go forgetting who's in charge here! Your little blackmail attempt amounted to nothing. So don't go cutting me off again! Not now, and especially not during client meetings! I have the power to fire you if I see a single slip up. Remember which of us is the doctor and which of us is the assistant. Now then, I expect a report of your mimic status by next week and you should hurry along to fulfill your duties to our clients.”

“What do you mean it amounted to nothing?”

“Excuse me? What are you saying?”

“I'm saying that I'm here right now aren't I? I don't mean that you gave me this job, I mean you gave me legal access to all those files I wanted. It's kind of crazy you didn't realize. I guess I hit the nail on the head when I assumed you'd see me as an opportunity to show other therians that you're on our side. But now, I have complete access to everything and I can legally be a whistleblower to the public here. If you ever hurt me again, I'll send out everything. And I won't even be affected. After all, I'm just an innocent assistant concerned for the safety of the general public. I'm sure with your reputation completely sunk, it wouldn't be hard to replace you. There's a number of other doctors that would kill to have your position. You wouldn't survive.”

“You're implying I still have a reputation to lose. I felt pity for you when you fought for the last spark of hope in your life, to see you squandering it on threats like this… Are you truly so vain that you feel the need to pretend your bluff had weight.”

“Erian, I'm saying this for your own benefit. If people knew what kinds of things you did in this clinic. I don't mean you'd lose your medical license or be run out of town. I'm pretty sure they'd come after your life. This isn't a threat, this is a warning. We're equals here now, whether you like it or not. I could be much worse, but I've decided to play nice.”

“...I see. Sigh, I'll die of stress from you at this point. Why even work here if you hate it and myself so much?”

“Mayday, the actual Mayday, wanted to work here before she forgot everything. She wanted to learn how to help people. I feel like I owe her that much. I don’t care if I have to step over you or any other bigot to reach that goal.”

“Of course you’d say something hokey like that. Always painting your actions as the only noble ones around you. You really are a monster the media made you out to be.”

“You're the one who made me like this. I had to relearn everything about playing human. Besides, you should have known something like this would happen eventually. If not me then someone would have found enough dirt on you. You're kind of sloppy when you hide evidence… Huh, I thought this kind of conversation would make me more angry, but this has been oddly calming. I suppose it's me no longer recognizing you as a threat. Congrats, now we know others mimics won't inherently hate you. At least not always. Now I just see you as potential food.”

“Food? Tell me then Ms. Mulberry, Did a part of you enjoy the taste of flesh?”

“Don't push it. How about you get back to work, I have patients to care for.”

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Start - Prev - Next

Mention list: @a-shramp, @calliecwrites, @be702, @respectfulevil, @hyacinthdoll1315

@aster-is-confused, @bloodandbrandywyne, @glitchgloop, @nyxthewary, @lunadook

[destroymeinherz]

The Party

A little while back someone posted about a fantasy of being passed around a stethoscope party, with different people listening to their heart. I don’t remember who did so if it was you, I hope you like this. It sparked creativity,

I could continue if anyone wants another part. But I wanted to do the basic idea.

The Party

I’d just signed with a modeling agency. It wasn’t the most exclusive, sometimes the jobs weren’t exactly what I hoped but college was expensive, so I took what I could. How bad could it be? It’s not like I planned to run for office or something.

My agent called me after classes one afternoon asking if I’d be interested in a gig that was more unconventional. After a few basic questions for my safety, nothing seemed too offensive even if it was secretive, and a rep from the agency would be there in case of trouble, I decided to take it.

Friday night I arrived at a big mansion just outside the city. From the looks of it this was old money, probably descendants of oil barons and railway tycoons. Which meant the paycheck would be huge. They’d promised a large payout for anyone who stayed til midnight.

I was let into a large foyer and usher back to a small hallway to a butlers parlor. A woman checked my ID, checked my name off a list and then looked me over.

“You will be required to wear one of two outfits tonight,” She instructed, pulling two hangers off a rack of clothes. “Black is standard, you are willing to do anything that would be clothes on. Call it PG-13.”

She held up a black Herve Luger bandage dress for emphasis. Then in her other hand, she held up a red one nearly identical to the former.

“Red,” She continued. “You are open to sexual behavior, and by wearing red you are giving consent to sexual advance,”

Well, I was single and I was never a prude, so I took the red. Might as well have a bit of fun. Once I accepted my color choice, she handed me an iPad with a waiver basically stating that I would take proper precautions, assert myself and under no circumstances attempt to contact anyone I met here after the event. I would ask for aid if I felt unsafe and leave without a scene. If I did not make it to midnight, I’d be compensated $200 per hour worked.

I shrugged and signed. She then held back a curtain for me to change in a small closet. I slipped inside, squeezed into the dress and as I was ushered to a door she fit me with a bracelet.

“If you need out, press the red button. Security will extract you.” She informed. “Are you ready?”

I blinked. Extracted? My heart started to pound, suddenly feeling crushed by the tight dress. What did I get myself into. But… the money was clouding my judgement. So I nodded, and the door opened. Once I cleared the threshold, it closed behind me.

Just walk around. Be eye candy. That was my only instruction. So that is what I did.

The room was a parlor, antique and dimly lit. It was full of golds and deep rich red textiles, dark wood and gold finishes. Old leather bound editions of classic literature adorned the bookshelves. I felt like I’d gone back in time. Or I was in a vampire’s house. My heart thudded at the thought.

The room was also full of people, in fine clothes, expensive tuxes and dresses. All of them wore masks like a masquerade. As I started to work through the crowd they watched me, with hungry eyes. Maybe I was in a vampire’s den. I was about to be dinner. There were a few other girls dressed in the red or black, varying heights and hair colors and skin tones.

I swallowed and tried to will my poor heart to stop trying to escape my chest. Until finally, a man approached me.

“Well, aren’t you lovely,” He said, holding out his hand.

I took his hand, and he brought it to his lips. He then moved his fingers down my wrist, stopping to feel my pulse. He offered him a soft smile. Then, he nodded before he motioned a waiter over.

The waiter came with a silver cloche, removing the dome top and extending the tray to the man. But there wasn’t food. It was a line of various stethoscopes. His fingers danced along them as he made his selection, a red tube that matched my dress.

He waved the man off, then examined it before placing the buds in his ears.

“Now, deep breath for me. Like a doctor’s office.” He said as he placed the diaphragm on my chest,

I was surprised, but I did as he asked, breathing in deeply and feeling my heart kick in my chest. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump.

He must have enjoyed the sound of my heart because he moved the diaphragm around my chest, smiling to himself and eventually he stopped. He listened for a long time, and even behind a mask I could see his eyes were closed.

I blushed. Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

Finally, he opened his eyes and moved the diaphragm away. He took the ear pieces out and looked around. Then he must have seen who he needed, because he waved to someone.

“You have a perfect heart, my dear.” He said.

“Uh, thanks…” I replied.

Another man approached, he also had a stethoscope. He looked to the first man oblivious to me and waited for why he’d been called over.

“I think she’s the one. Take a listen.”

The new man finally looked at me. I smiled at him but he simply leaned in with his own stethoscope and listened to my heart. I took a deep breath like I had before.

Ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump, ba-dump

“I think you’re right,” He replied. “Take her in, I’ll grab the others.”

The others? I blinked in surprise. Is this all it was? A bunch of cosplayers listening to my heart for a few hours? That didn’t seem so bad. Even if they wanted to listen to it during sex or something. That was actually, kinda hot.

“Come with me,” The first man said.

I nodded as he took my hand again. This time he lead me down another hallway to a different room. He opened the door and brought me in, then closed it behind me. It was more of a sitting room with a beautiful chaise in the center, raised up on a platform.

I recognized some medical equipment from various movies or doctors visits. Nothing seemed too concerning.

“Now, lay down on the chaise,” He instructed. “You may stay clothed for now. But do remove your shoes as to not damage the upholstery.”

I did as he asked. Once I was settled, he returned to my side. He brought the steth out again and gently placed it on my chest. He let out a content sigh as he listened to my heart pound.

As he listened, others started to fill the room. They lined up behind him. I had never expected anything like this. Just lay here and let them hear my heart beat.

“Before we continue, could I get you anything? Water, soda, wine?”

I smiled. “What would you like me to have?”

“Oh you are cheeky.” He grinned. “Perhaps a little caffeine, to stimulate you. What does everyone think?”

There was a nod of agreement from the group and some muttering of approval. The first man smiled and had one of the caterers being me a soda can on a platter with a straw beside it.

“Go ahead and open it, then use the straw to limit your movement to drink.” He instructed.

I did as he asked. Once the can was open and the straw was in, in leaned over to the table where it sat and drank a few gulps. As I did, the man placed the diaphragm on my chest again.

He closed his eyes, listening and seemingly very content with the sound. Finally he opened them, took my hand and kissed the back of it. He stepped aside and the next person in line stepped up.

There was no clock in the room but it felt like time slowed in this room. Each person took their turn stepping up to my seat and just listening to my heartbeat. Some had me drink the soda, some had me lay down, some had me sit and stand quickly. I’d stand there and pant through running in place and jumping jacks in a too tight dress, as they listened to my heart’s reaction and then recovery.

Ba-dumpba-dumpba-dumpba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I had to admit, this was fun.

The last person was a woman, she couldn’t have been much older than me. She seemed more keen then the men had. Her eyes were bright behind her mask. She took a deep breath as her gold and white stethoscope settled on my chest.

“My… your heart… it’s by far one of the loveliest I’ve heard.” She said to me, her voice was lustful. “May I rest my head on your chest? Hear it directly with my ear?”

“Sure. I don’t see why not.” I replied.

“Would you like to hear your heart while I do?” She removed the stethoscope and offered it.

The people in the room all watched, eager to see how I would respond. Well, why not? If it made them happy it was my job tonight. I don’t think I’d ever heard my heartbeat before, not like this anyway.

“Okay. Sure” I replied with a smile.

That was the right answer as she grinned with excitement and placed the ear pieces in my ears. Then she placed the diaphragm down on my skin and rested her ear next to it.

I inhaled as I had before and my head filled with the rhythmic thumping they’d all been indulging in for the last few hours.

Ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump ba-dump

I closed my own eyes and lost myself in the sound. Maybe I should come to these parties more often. Hearing the steady beat, knowing it was mine… that was intoxicating.

“Do you like it?” She asked.

“Yeah. I think I get the vibe.” I responded.

“Are you ready to try something a little more interesting?” The first man asked, approaching me slowly. “You can refuse any of the requests, we won’t take offense or change your compensation. These would be granting special requests.”

The stethoscope was removed from my ears and I almost whined about it. I liked hearing my heart, understanding what they were hearing. What they enjoyed that brought me here.

“Sure,” I said. “What do you have in mind?”

End?

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

How do I talk to a fourth grader about sex Ed? Are there books or an online resource for parents you recommend?

hi there, thank you for asking!

the book that I use to teach OWL classes is Robie Harris' It's Perfectly Normal; I strongly recommend getting ahold of the revised & updated edition from 2021, which is more inclusive and queer-friendly, but even the older edition is a pretty good starting place.

it can be a great way to start the conversation if the fourth grader in question hasn't approached you with their own questions about sex and bodies, which can be daunting for a lot of kids, especially if that hasn't historically been the vibe when you interact! they may not know a lot at that point, but most kids have definitely absorbed that sex is something that they're not supposed to talk about.

if they're feeling up to having a chat beyond the basics (anatomy, reproduction 101, changes that come with puberty, squiggly crush feelings, consent and no means no, etc), that's awesome! I find most kids in the 4th-6th grade range already have a lot more information about sex than most people expect; they just have it jumbled up and out of order and lack the tools to make sense of it. ie, I've had students who know about periods but are under the impression that they come out of the butt, understand that a baby grows inside of a person but have no clue how it gets out, and make jokes about someone getting ejaculated on because they know it's Inappropriate and therefore funny but don't actually have any idea what ejaculation actually is or why it happens.

so, you know. much to work on there!

honestly I think the #1 most important thing for any adult trying to be a good ally and educator to young people is to kill the urge to cringe literally ever at all about anything, because the second you make a kid feel weird for asking a question is the second they start hesitating to confide in you with their questions. I've had to poker face kids asking me why someone would ever put someone else's penis in their mouth, what a harem is, and kids very earnestly describing their first wet dreams without having any idea that they were describing wet dreams. there cannot be any "no," it's "yes, and" from here on it. "yes that sounds weird to you, and it's completely fine to do that with people you trust if and when you feel ready to have sex" has got to be the constant refrain. be as rigorously open-minded and non-judgmental as possible establishes that you are a safe person to talk to honestly, and encourages your kiddo to be similarly curious and accepting.

if you ever find yourself really flustered by a question, or you genuinely don't have an answer, it's okay to pull a "I don't know! let me find out more information and get back to you." (also great behavior to model for kids, btw.) if you're ever stumped trying to figure out how to break something down into 4th grader-sized chunks, I recommend Scarleteen as a starting place - it's a sex ed forum run by volunteers for teens, some of them pretty young, so the answers are written very accessibly.

easing into the topic by discussing things like feelings and puberty can be a great way to ease in. have they talked about puberty at school? are their friends having any bodily changes? how do people talk about bodies? do kids get made fun of for developing breasts or growing body hair? does anyone at school date? how does the kid you're talking with feel about all of that? I might just be blessed with unusually gossipy kids, but they LOVE dishing about how other kids act. I learn so so much about my students by asking them to tell me how their peers behave at school; they love to narc.

also: it can be a huge bummer if YOU were really ready to rumble being sex positive and a source of info, but sometimes kids just aren't ready to engage with that. I've know 4th graders who are extremely at eases talking about the ins and outs of vaginal anatomy and 6th graders who would rather run away than even acknowledge genitals exist; there's no predicting when anyone will be comfortable with this. to a certain degree you might need to encourage a kid through initial awkwardness, but if they're reaching a point of serious distress and discomfort we've got to let it go. unfortunately I've taught kids who reacted to their parents' enthusiasm for sex positivity by wilting in exactly the opposite direction, getting anxious and confrontational whenever the topic came up. the majority of kids will become curious in their own time, especially as puberty and sexuality becomes more pressing to them and their peers, and sometimes the best thing you can do is leave that door open for them to return to in their own time.

also, hey! if you're ever really really stuck, I'm here on tumblr dot com :) I'm by now means an expert, but I've taught a LOT of fourth graders what a condom is.

[mouseonamoose]

Hey! So ik we don’t know each other and this is totally out of the blue, but I wanted to reach out to you because me and a few other Good Omens fans are running this group on Tumblr whose purpose is basically to just share Good Omens fics with each other and gush about them (sort of like an informal book club minus the critiquing part, it’s all love!), and one of the fics that the group is very excited about is Demonology and the Tri-Phasic Model (I’ve been wanting to talk about it anyway but we’ve received multiple requests to add it to the roster!). Would you be alright with your work being talked about in this setting? It’s totally fine if the answer is no, we just don’t want to make any works the topic of conversation in this group if the author does not consent. Here’s a link to the pinned post (you’re also ofc welcome to join the group if interested!) with more information on how it works/how the conversations are facilitated: https://www.tumblr.com/communities/good-omens-fanfic-book-club/post/763175786471653376/welcome

Would I be alright with this? Do you mean, would I be deeply honored and humbled by it? Because, is so, yes! It boggles my mind, in such a good way, that people are interested in the stuff I've written this way. Thanks.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Just be yourself - Sub/Dom

Coriolanus x fem!reader

sub!Coriolanus x dom!fem-reader

warning : drugging without consent, it's kinda non-con (eventho there are mutual feelings), kissing, dry-humping, snake, minor blood play.

Summary : Dr.Gaul is known all over the Capitol but so are here brilliant helpers and students. Young woman and men in their own studys while providing Gaul with new potions, tricks and animals. So what can happen if a rather naive Coriolanus gets with one of the students...it ends in something mad.

Info : So I cant believe that this is just my second piece I have written for him here. I need to write more and have some ideas and we need more sub Coriolanus ;) As always have fun reading everyone and this took way longer than it was planned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Coriolanus Snow was the top student at the Capitol Academy. He was the model example of a blameless good boy who had the future ahead of him.

He had recently joined Dr. Gaul's lab, not only was he so confident of getting better nites, but he had also found someone in the lab, a young assistant and scientist to Dr. Gaul.

She was a little older than him but he admired the way she looked at things, the excitement of exploration and just like him she came from a background she would have done anything to get to the top. Ever since he had seen her at the doctor's side, he had lost his heart to her, at least as far as his pride could tell.

Snow ended up on top. Always. It was no different with his favorite since he had shown up at her house after class, a meadow rose in his hand, he was sure he had her figured out.

He had seen the way her eyes had lit up with devotion and love. ,, Beautiful like you," he had said to her when she had checked in with him and they had gone on their first real date together in a cafe in the Capitol.

They drank tea together and talked, telling him about Dr. Gaul, his sweetness not seeing that she was giving him what he wanted. Information at the cost of love.

But all this time he was blind. The snow may land on top but it is nothing to the sun. He saw what he wanted to see in her.

He saw her happiness when they saw each other, the same happiness that was in him when he took her hand and kissed it gently and carefully. Not knowing that there was something different in each of them.

The bird in him seeing only the sky almost naive about the love between them. In her the snake that looked pretty but as soon as it bit you knew how painful it could be.

They both kissed each other goodbye in the evening, the rose in her hand with the smile on her lips and the warm cheeks. His actions made her react to him, didn't they? She wanted to see him again before she went back home...at least that's what she let him know.

He didn't need to know where she lived exactly, he knew she wasn't from the Capitol, he knew she had a good family like he once had and he knew she had money.

What he also knew was that she was an employee of Dr. Gaul, the woman with the different eye colors had discovered her and immediately added her to her team.

,,I take it you're keeping to your subject?" the older woman asked, looking up from her hand which had a snake on it as her employee and fellow researcher came in.

,,Of course he's perfect...it's going to be a sight to behold the snow will always have to melt eventually" said the younger one and took the snake from the older one.

Her own creation, the project that had earned her Gaul's respect. The black animal with the pinkish-red eyes and the black scales that shimmered pink in the light wrapped itself around its owner's arm.

Gaul nodded understandingly to her before the younger woman left the house dream, pausing at the door that led further into the laboratory. ,,I'm expecting a writeup and a record," Gaul said, and she knew exactly what her forbearer meant - it would be a spectacle to behold. A spectacle she would never let him forget.

Because she knew he would come to her. She heard his footsteps in the corridors the following evening. When he knocked on her door and came in. His blue eyes darting over the darkness, he was rarely in her room in the lab.

But he had never questioned why she had a large double bed designed for two people, a large writing table with lots of projects, the terrarium for her snake or the coffee table with the two armchairs.

He hadn't really paid attention to the furnishings. ,,A rose for my heart," she heard him say and she got up from her seat at the desk, an embarrassed smile playing around her lips, as always.

,,Coryo it's beautiful thank you" she replied and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek knowing he had hoped for more but he would have to be patient he would learn that he was not first in line.

At least not when he was with her. Putting the rose in the terrarium, she looked at her darling for a moment before pointing to the table and the armchairs.

,,Tea? I thought we could just enjoy the evening talking about the new book, a few school topics perhaps?" she suggested when she hadn't quite given him a reason why she wanted to see him. But he had come like a dog who wanted his owner's approval. He had this need inside him, she just had to bring it out.

Snow sat down and looked at his darling as she poured the tea, standing with her back to him, not seeing her open the small vial of her snake's pink poison and pour it into his cup. ,,Strawberry tea, sweet and soothing," she said, telling him that her grandmother had given it to her for the winter when the weather got colder.

,,Thank you," he said and took the tea, a smile playing around his lips and he closed his eyes for a moment as he took the first cautious sip after blowing.

She watched him, an unsuspecting smile playing around her lips as she took a sip of the tea herself. Her counterpart seemed to enjoy the sweetness complimented her grandmother for picking out the tea before they got into a light conversation about the latest and final work before graduation.

Every now and then she took a sip of the tea and paid attention to him. On his actually calm breathing, which slowly became deeper, as if he was trying to clean his thoughts, which were slowly becoming clogged with lust, by breathing oxygen.

The lips that suddenly seemed too dry made him drink even more and lick over them. Not wanting to notice anything and leaning back in the armchair to put the empty cup down.

His thin, perfectly formed fingers held on to the chair. His black suit trousers seemed to be getting too tight and he undid the first button of his white shirt.

,,Is everything all right, my snowflake?" she asked as she finished her tea and placed the cup on the table. Her gaze was free of any accusations and showed slight concern.

She saw a thought come briefly into his bright blue eyes. The pupils widened imperceptibly and yet he was drowning in the sweetness of the tea, the lust and his devotion.

The snow melted under poison and would slide into her hands. ,,Yes...yes, I think I...need air," he replied, averting his gaze and rising, only seeming to cling to the chair more tightly.

But no matter how many times he breathed, no matter how many times he tried to clear his head, it wouldn't do any good.

,,Are you sure?" she asked, slowly getting up from the chair and walking slowly after him, seeing him almost stumble against the door and try to open it. ,,Closed?" she heard him mumble as he turned to her and she felt his helpless look make her heart beat faster.

She shook her curly hair, which had not been sitting properly for a long time, through his head to clear his thoughts.

,,Are you sure you don't want to stay... to finally be good for me?" she asked, stopping in front of him and running her hand through his hair, watching him lean into her touch for a moment.

When he pulled back he didn't want to admit that he really needed it. He was a Snow he would always end up on top not like a whore on the bottom.

But his pride quickly disappeared as her hand closed around his neck and she pulled him into a demanding kiss. Her own body wanted more of him, she wanted to finally break him.

She knew that he wanted to be dominated, that his arrogance and pride were all fake.

He was made to be used like a toy for her and her explorations, and not to be the best.

She could feel him resisting, or rather trying to resist her. But she noticed exactly how he held on to her, his fingers searching for hers, wanting to pull her towards him, wanting more of her.

But at that moment she broke away from him, interrupting the kiss that had deprived him of all oxygen. Yet what she saw excited her all the more.

His hair was even more frizzy, his eyes desperately still, begging for more, his lips rosy from the kiss. ,,If your father saw you like this, Coriolanus," she said suggestively and turned away from him, knowing that fear was showing on his face.

But the whimper that escaped him was audible to her, to himself and to the small camera hidden in her terrarium.

Dr.Gaul got more than just a written elaboration. ,,Please darling...I-I" he stammered, almost stumbling towards her as the slap echoed through the room. It wasn't necessarily hard, but in his sworn state it had brought him to the floor.

He barely managed to hold on to the armchair so that he didn't end up on the ground completely without support. ,,Please? Oh please what boy? Please smile, please another tea, please another rose?" she asked him, bending down and pulling him up slightly by his white hair.

She heard the mix of painfully aroused moans and saw his hands trembling as he resisted clawing at her to get her off.

Before she gripped his jaw and forced him to look up at her, knowing full well that he was looking miserable.

,,You have nothing proud about you anymore Coryo...I mean aren't you so vulgar in front of me?" she continued to ask and placed her foot on his hard core hearing the groan.

The closing of his eyes for a moment as his painful arousal finally got attention the twitching of his cock he just had to beg for attention.

A sob escaped his lips as she eased the pressure knowing that his pride was raging inside him, he wanted to rise but any attempts were stifled by his sloppy, sloppy nature. ,,Yes-yes, I'm ashamed," he mumbled and looked down, unable to withstand her gaze.

However, this resulted in another slap, stronger than the previous one, and a painful sound left him. ,,Don't play like that bitch!" she hissed warningly and gripped his jaw tighter again, she had seen very well that he had moved his hips, seeking arousal through the pain.

She pressed her foot back harder painfully on his cock so he couldn't escape and his fingers scraped the floor.

His hips moved sporadically from time to time and she saw how he must be on the verge of tears. ,,I'm sorry I was stupid I'm sorry Mommy" he said hastily almost seeming to choke on his own breath and his lips trembled for a moment before she saw it.

He had called her that of his own accord, what a good boy. The small trickle of blood that ran from his nose was caused by the beating.

He never seemed to have been beaten, at least not so hard, what a shame. But she would take good care of him, she knew, and her beloved would learn.

Wiping the blood with her free hand and getting her fingers dirty, she saw how fascinated he suddenly seemed.

As if something had changed in him for a moment, ,,I-I'll be good, I promise," he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

She released his jaw, giving him the space he needed before the wide smile came to her lips.

He began to kiss her stained hand, kissing every spot of stained skin, staining his own lips with it, resembling his school uniform. Like the red lipstick of a whore.

She let him and rewarded him by stroking his head, hearing the muffled moans as he began to lick the blood from her fingers.

His darling played with the strands of hair that were so soft she would have loved to go on like this forever.

If she hadn't felt her own arousal, the almost throbbing of her center, the wetness that was already sticking to her panties as a stain, the hard nipples.

She wanted him all the more. ,,Such a good boy you are, go on," came softly from her lips and gave him a little more room so that he could rub his hips and hardness against her leg like a wild dog.

He was still licking her fingers and she suddenly pushed them into his mouth.

She heard the surprised gagging as he took a moment but began to suck on it all the more joyfully.

Soon the muffled moans could be heard in the room, blood and spit hanging from his lips as he continued to look at her.

Always watching her, but this time with devotion and respect from where he should always be. Below. ,,My little baby deserves a toy," she announced, letting go of his hair and reaching into the terrarium within reach.

Seeing that the camera was still recording everything, she felt how the thought of being able to look at all of this as closely as she wanted caused an exciting tingling in her belly.

,,Say hello Cupid this is Mommy's boy Coryo" she introduced her pet to Coriolanus who seemed slightly confused for a moment before another wave of arousal pulled him back after needing more and he continued to suck on her fingers.

The snake watched him with its bright eyes before receiving a small kiss from its owner and Snow gave the animal an almost jealous look. ,,Not at all Snow, Mommy's here for both of you," she smiled and stroked his hair again, starting to play with his curls and putting Cupid down on him.

The snake seemed to know its creator's intentions and coiled itself around the older man's neck.

The scales cold and warm at the same time, unpredictable as the lust of the aphrodisiac it produced, Snow drew in an almost gasping breath only to groan the next moment as she removed her hand from his mouth.

A string of spit hung between them before she wiped it away and returned to her libeling.

She could feel him rubbing himself against her faster and faster, his arousal showing the first drops of pleasure, slightly visible on the dark fabric in the light.

,,That's good," she praised her two pets and Cupid tightened his grip around Snow's neck, causing him to actually shed a tear as the air he was deprived of and struggled to get seemed to bring him to the brink of unconsciousness.

But it didn't bother him or her. ,,You like it," she said the obvious and tilted her head slightly as he nuzzled his cheek against her thigh.

The viscous mix of saliva and blood with tears stained her clothes but she would punish him for that later, he had other tasks to fulfill.

,,Yes-ahh yes do fuck-it" he mumbled, barely able to speak properly as he seemed to be too focused on getting oxygen into his system with each difficult move.

She let him go on for a moment, stroking his hair reassuringly and pulling at the strands every now and then, which made his eyelids flutter and he only uttered something incomprehensible.

,,You want to come? Were you good for Mammy?" she finally asked when he had reached a rhythm that was no longer really definable and was just there to get his climax.

He nodded hastily, unable to produce a proper sentence, and she tugged at his strands to get a yes.

One last demanding look on her part, delighting in his submissiveness before she said, ,,Be a good boy and come for Mommy," Cupid pulled so tightly around his neck that Coryo lost his breath and got his orgasm with a breathy groan.

He leaned against her, breathing heavily, his eyes closed, a light film of sweat on his skin, his fingers trembling every now and then, and she felt the wetness on her leg when she saw the stain on his crotch. Coriolanus was a real whore on the inside.

As she broke away from him, Cupid was still wrapped around his neck, giving him air so he wouldn't lose consciousness. Snow almost toppled forward, barely holding himself up so his head didn't hit the ground.

He barely noticed the spit and blood that had dripped onto the floor as he searched for her.

His beloved sat down on the edge of the bed, her legs slightly apart and slowly pulled up her skirt. ,,Did you think it was over?" she began, smirking as she saw his helpless expression when he had yet to receive a reward, a hug, devotion and affection.

,,You are truly naive my pretty one...now come here and let me use you will you?" she demanded, seeing how he still didn't quite understand the poison slowly leaking from his body from the sweat and exertion and she made a mental note to increase it.

She saw the flicker of vengeance and pride in the blue of his eyes and knew that if she let him go, her experiment would be in vain.

But she wouldn't. You have to break every bone in a pretty bird to stop it from flying.

A disappointed sigh came over her lips as she realized that he had just gambled away his reward before she snapped.

She heard a hiss and Cupid bit him on the neck, the venom soaking directly into the blood and she heard his almost pitiful whimper as he let out an ,,I'm sorry-I'm sorry Mommy" and he scrambled towards her.

She saw exactly how he was getting hard again, the drug making him do everything she wanted, but it was only a matter of time before he did it on his own. Like a good boy.

Like he was now as he slowly settled between her thighs, making an apologetic noise that sounded more like a mewl.

Coryo began to kiss his way up her legs, caressing her and showing her that she was everything to him.

Oh, he would be perfect for his Mommy, he would do anything for her.

She knew that as she looked once more into those beautiful lust-filled eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@tinfairies it's finally done hope you like it ;)

@darlingtulips (maybe you like it love your blog btw)

@dreamingofleon , @thegabbyh , @highly-unknown , @nolanbiigfishboi , @darlinggirlt , @hammy2705 , @riddleworldsposts , @jaegers420 , @or-was-it-just-a-dream , @redactedfanficarchive , @hunbeols , @witchy10s , @essienoe

[exquisiteserotonin]

Precious Possessions 9: Not Your Red-Lipped Doll

Pairing: Dave York X F! Reader (Original Female Character)

Rating: E is for Explicit - 18+ only 🔞MDNI🔞

Previous | Next | Masterlist

Word count: 2906

Summary: Firefly has some time to contemplate about her feelings about seeing Dave with Carol and Alice, bringing closer to understanding more about who she is and who she always has been. Where will this leave her and Dave?

Warning: TRIGGER WARNINGS for this one---this has some real dubious consent. I do not want this to upset anyone, so please, please, keep that in mind. If you haven't been able to tell by now, the characters are not well adjusted and have gone through some shit, so this shouldn't be a model for a relationship. Infidelity, almost stalking like behavior, spit as lube (probably not sanitary), PiV sex - wrap it up lovahs, creampie, degrading behavior, and ANGST. Once again please DNI if you are not 18 and over. Also not beta'd, so all errors are my own. Please be kind.

A/N: I'm so grateful for everyone who is loving and following this series. I hope that you continue to stick with me and comment and reblog.

Gratitude to every single one of the mazing ladies with whom I share this whore home, I adore you with my whole heart. Thank you for work shopping this with me. Love you.

@legendary-pink-dot @youandmeand5bucks @magpiepillsjunior @imalrightllama @arcanefox207 @sparklefarts38 @redhotkitchen @pink-whiskey-woman @secretelephanttattoo @morallyinept @for-a-longlongtime

Taglist: @sheepdogchick3 @nerdieforpedro @casa-boiardi @missladym1981 @untamedheart81

If I missed anyone let me know I forget constantly if I don't write it down. I probably need a system.

You knew he’d be angry. It was understandable. One day passed and you didn’t dare hope for or expect a call. The second day you wondered if he would make the attempt, but you weren’t surprised when nothing came. The overthinking came next. Was the line you had crossed so wide that you could no longer cross it together? Maybe if you agreed to everything he asked, never talked about it anymore, he’d come back? Or maybe you were just overthinking it and you just needed to let it go. 

Diving headfirst into work was the only way for you to cope. With focused intent, you typed away on your keyboard, opened various programs, analyzing, and interpreting different data sets sent to you. A distraction free intensity took over your head as you checked off item after item on your to do list. The eyes that peered at you as they passed your cubicle barely phased you as they watched in a combination of admiration and apprehension at your productivity. 

The tips of your fingers numbed from the consistent typing and clicking of your computer mouse. You pushed out a hot, puff of frustrated air from your lips and your eyes narrowed in scrutiny at the screen. The click, click, click of your nails against your desk echoed in your ears until your focus was interrupted by the loud sound of your desk phone.  

“Hello?” you answered, a hint of surprise at the edge of your voice. 

The polite, gentle register of the receptionist’s voice traveled from the phone to your ear.  

“You have someone here to see you.” 

A tightness grabbed hold of your chest, pulling a gasp from you. 

It couldn’t be…he wouldn’t. 

Your mind wanted to hold hope for your delusion, while every vein pumped with the truth that it wasn’t Dave. Each beat of your heart knew, but neither your head nor could be prepared for who came to you next. 

“Who is it?” you sighed. 

“Um…it’s Mr. Heatherington, it’s---,” she replied, hesitation hiding in her voice. 

“Brad’s father?” 

A feeling of nervous confusion coursed through you as you wondered why he would be coming to see you. You reminded yourself that turning him away and moving on completely would raise nothing but suspicion. Seeking comfort from someone with a shared trauma was normal, expected even. 

“Yeah, he wants to see if you’re free for lunch.” 

The information forced you to suck in a cold breath of air. 

“Yes, yes,” you nodded over the phone even though you knew she couldn’t see it. “Of course, yes, I’ll be right down.”

The quiet image of him waiting in the front lobby had you trembling. The slope of his shoulders was nearly identical to his son’s. His hands were tucked into the pockets of his pressed khaki pants. His waist was slim and widened a few inches at the hips. His head bowed down in a quiet trance as he waited for you. His golden hair was styled with more gel than was necessary, just like his son's, just like Brad’s. When he turned to look at you, it sent a flood of memories to your head, nearly making you stumble as your stomach churned with nausea. The slope of shoulders. The boxy waist. One wrong turn of your head and Brad was standing before you.

“Mr. Heatherington, hi,” you greeted, taking an apprehensive step forward. 

His arms were outstretched towards you, gesturing you to him for an embrace. 

Do it or he’ll be suspicious, your mind told you as it pressed you forward. 

“Oh, come on, no need for such formalities,” he said, beckoning you with a wave of his hands. “Martin, or Marty is fine, sweetheart.” 

A lump of disgust lodged itself in the back of your throat as you mustered up the gall to present him with something mildly resembling a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, rubbing them up and down your back. It had you shaking, bringing you back to staring at his son’s body in the dark and Dave standing ominously over you as tears stung the corners of your eyes. 

“It’s good to see you, Martin,” you lied as you peeled yourself away from him. 

He walked next to you without a word, the silent void between you louder than the noise of the crowd around you. Walking next to him, you knew you should feel guilty about the part. Pity? He didn’t deserve it. Fear? You could take him down in a beat. Disgust? That was a no brainer. It was easy enough to get lost on this train of thought. So lost that you hadn’t even realized that you had arrived at a nearby deli. 

The lunch crowd was barely a trickle when you walked in. Your path to the counter was clear and quick as was your order of pastrami on rye. After Martin ordered his sandwich, he gestured towards a booth to the left of the counter. He sat across from you and set his elbows on the table before clasping his hands together. 

“So how are you doing, kid?” His voice came out in the sigh like he was a battered soldier checking on another soldier in his battalion. 

Caring and sympathy. They weren’t on your bingo cards for today. Fate apparently liked to fuck around with you. Brazenly, you decided to meet her where she was. 

“I’m---I’m,” you hesitated with your confession, “I’ve been better.” 

He reached for your hand, noticing you flinch as he took it. The blonde of his brows wrinkled at their center as he looked at you, pathetically assuming you were feeling the same thing he was feeling. Feeling them about the same person he was. As tears began to water his eyes, you squeezed his hand remembering what was throwing your existence into an imbalance. Not his son. Not his absence, but Dave’s. 

“I understand,” Brad’s father took a deep inhale through his nose. 

One that puffed up his chest. You swore that you could feel the hot air that came from his lips as he exhaled. 

“He wouldn’t want you to be sad,” his father murmured as he looked out the window. “My boy…he had so many plans! He was ready to treat you like a princess.” 

The corners of your lips tightened at the words. How was it possible that everything you didn’t want in a relationship was just captured in one sentence? It lingered as he squeezed your hands in his. 

“My headspace hasn’t been the same, Martin,” the quivering confession that left your lips was followed by a flood of emotions. 

The anxious bounce of your knees reverberated through your entire body as you struggled to hold your emotions in. The feelings nearly gave way to tears as he held you hostage with his gaze. 

“I’ve watched you,” the words sounded almost like a threat, taunting your fight-or-flight response into high gear. “I see you now and you haven’t even let yourself grieve.”

A breath rushed through you from the depths of your lungs. A cool droplet began to seep from the corner of your eyes, softly caressing the curve of your face. The look of sadness and pity that wafted from his repugnant face left your entire body shaking with a wellspring of bubbling anger and frustration.

“How do you do it?” you questioned through tear-blurred vision. “How are you doing it?”

You watched closely as Martin crossed his hands over his chest and pushed his back into the back of the chair. His face hardened and the lines around his mouth drew deeper into his face as his lips turned downward to form a frown. Observation. Data analysis. Reading between the lines. You couldn’t separate yourself from these skills and like any good analyst you studied him as he looked out the window. 

“I try to continue in his memory,” he replied, snuffing in a sharp breath. “To live every aspect of my life as boldly and unapologetically because he can’t.”

Live life boldly and unapologetically?

A light laugh burst from your belly as you shook your head in disbelief. You never thought you’d agree with something Brad’s father suggested. But then again, even dying lights show flickers of brightness before burning out. 

“I think he would have expected nothing less from the both of us,” he said, letting out another sigh. “He could have given you the world.”

“Sometimes the world is not enough,” an invisible knot threatened to lodge itself in your throat as you let the words leave you. 

“Still a pretty good consolation prize.”

A weak smile. That was all the reaction you could give to him. Both of you recognized 

the moment as a natural stopping point. He gave you another hug, kissing both of your cheeks.

The deliberately slow way he moved to offer you this affection sent a chill up and down your shoulders and made every hair on your body stand on end. Even as he walked away, the underlying urge to get away from him stayed just beneath your skin. 

***

The weight of your productivity sat heavily on your shoulders with each slow step you took towards your front door. You ascended the three steps to your arched door pushing the key in only to find it unlocked. With a quick turn of your keychain, you held it at the ready, your thumb and pointer finger pulling at and rubbing against a taught deceptively thin black cord hidden inside. It was a cord that, when pulled hard enough, could strangle the burliest man. 

A light tap of your foot to the door was enough to push it open. A blue-gray light filled the room with early evening shadows. Each step you took forward was firm and unwavering. Any intruder's underestimation of you would be their downfall. In the shadows of the armchair that rested in your living room a figure sat, his legs spread out wide to the edges of your chair. There was no mistaking the large hands that rubbed against the wrinkles of his slacks. 

“You’re home late.” 

“Dave?” 

The very presence of him, the gravel in his voice, the heat that emanated from his body reached out to you, stealing your breath. You set your keys at a table near your front door. With your hands at your hips, you moved towards the kitchen, moving past the chair where he sat. Too much trouble to give him even a passing glance. He jolted towards you, holding you back at your waist.  

“No phone call to let me know you’d be late,” he seethed. “No dinner on the table. Not even a drink waiting for me.” 

“Seriously, Dave?” you groaned and rolled your eyes as you tried to push past him again. 

“Stop playing, this is what you want, isn’t it?” He taunted you. “A domestic dream. A man coming home to you every night? A sensible fuck?”

“Dave, come on,” you asserted, full of enough bullshit for the day. “I just got home.” 

He pulled you close, digging his fingers into your hips and pressing his hard cock into your pelvis. 

“Take off your clothes.”

“Just give me a minute to---,”

“I said ‘take off your clothes’.” 

He rocked into you again, his eyes demanding your clothes to come off. It had been so long since you last had him, and you swore you felt your desperation for him coming out of you like waves of radiation. But he needed to know there were times when he was wrong. This time you moved past him to your bedroom. 

With a brisk walk he followed you, grabbing you by the crook of your elbow. His hands gripped your arms, spinning you around to face him. His hands maneuvered down to your waist slowly unbuttoning each button of your blush-colored blouse.

“Come on, baby,” he tempted with greedy lips as he pulled your shirt from the high waist of your skirt. “I’ve had such a hard day at work, and I need to fuck; it won’t take long, I promise.” 

He shoved you to the bed. The loud clinking of his belt buckle reached you as his hands pulled the leather from the belt loops of his trousers. He discarded his clothes into a haphazard pile on the floor before simultaneously pulling your skirt and underwear from your body. 

“Dave why are you---,” you moaned out breathlessly as he held your hands over your head. 

The use of words was temporarily obsolete as Dave forcefully pushed your legs apart. A dart of spit left his lips settling onto your pussy. As he pressed and strummed his fingers on your folds where he left his mark. It had you squirming and arching your back against his touch. There was no denying how much your body blazed and ached for him. The mattress shifted with each slow press of the mattress he gave with his hands and knees. Soon he was lined up at your entrance and with a push of his knee on your thigh he rocked his pulsing cock deep into your folds. 

He braced his arms at your sides and held his face close to yours with each deep roll of his pelvis into yours. Too many long days had passed since you last had him, and you could do nothing but let go and feel the thickness of him as he moved in and out. Each ridge and vein slid against tight folds with each push and gyration he made within you. The walls of your dark room trapped every slap of skin, every heavy breath, and every whimper that both of you set free. 

Each thrust into you became more erratic, urgent, deeper, and harder. Absent were the spanking, the dirty words, the hair pulling, and every other depraved thing you did in worship of each other’s body. With his face held so close to yours, you felt each breath he took quicken on your skin. You swore you could feel him straining against the desire to bite you or call you his whore.

In the quiet pleasure a conflict rose within you, feeling close in ways that words couldn’t express, but deprived of the darkness you loved to share with one another. His hands twisted the sheets and as you dug into the flesh of his back, he filled you. With one push off you, he sat at the edge of your bed for a few moments before standing up and making his way to your bathroom to clean himself. Barely even able to catch your breath, he returned pulling up his boxer briefs and pulling his undershirt over his head. 

“To clean yourself up,” he said as he tossed a washcloth on the bed next to you.

You pushed past him to clean yourself in your bathroom. When you returned, you found him already buttoning up the last few buttons of his dress shirt. A feeling of frustration lodged itself in your throat as he stood before you. His eyes looked you up and down with smug satisfaction.

“My pretty, pretty possession.” The next words he uttered came out gentler than you expected, further fueling the confusion in your brain, “you need to remember who you are.” 

“Do you?” you asked, stepping forward holding your face close to his.

In the silence that followed you swore you could feel his body flinch at your words. It gave you a wicked sense of pride that you had been able to have the last word in that moment, though you knew it left nothing but confusion for the both of you. He rushed past you, leaving with a hushed and calculated shut of your door. One, two, three counts and you knew he wasn’t coming back, not tonight anyway. From a hanger of your large walk-in closet, you pulled a robe and wrapped it tightly around your body before returning to bed. As you lay down, you pulled a pillow close, smelling it and shutting your eyes tightly as tears slipped from them to stain the bedsheets.

*************

Days later in a quiet parking space near your house, Dave paused, his hands roaming the steering wheel as he sat in his car. As he got out, his pace was quick, a hint of excitement brewed beneath as he made his way to your front door. He pressed his finger to the sleek white doorbell. He shifted his weight back and forth on his feet as he waited for you to answer. Silence. He knocked this time. No answer. With fast breaths he pulled out his phone to text you, then call you. Each action was carried out to no avail. So, like any sensible man would, he forcibly entered your home. You knew he would do it. 

Immaculate cleanliness, darkness, and silence met him. He made his way through the cold emptiness, suppressing any panic or anger he was building within. He dashed to your bedroom and flipped on the lights. Your bed was perfectly made, your clothes still hung neatly in the closet with a few shoes standing slightly askew. A little pink envelope rested at the center of the bed; his name written in your perfect cursive. 

It smelled like you. 

He opened a piece of folded stationery within to see only one sentence written. 

Remembering who I am.

[secret-subject]

Hi Ms. Secret,

I was watching your yt livestream today and you kept referring to yourself and Norma. You can absolutely just say you wont elaboratte/ not answer the ask if this is over stepping a bit. But we had a question about how that works.

Are you and norma different alters in a system? Cause ya'll seem to share the same body (ala chemical poisoning from bleach fumes and sharing speech therapy lessons), but you seem to have different personalities and experiences at least based on how ypu talk about yallselves in livestream.

I hope you have a good day and are able to rest well.

Sincerely,

A hypno kinky system.

P.s. I love the new model the hair color is really pretty and the facial rigging is really expressive.

P.p.s i love your art. Your audios always get me pleasantly spinny and i love the emphasis on informed consent you have with your tagging and pre video text blurbs. Ypu have created a space where we have felt comfortable and safe exploring hypnokink and kink more broadly (as kink and esp hypnosis is often a space that can easily trigger us badly, but you (and a few other kinky artists) have made some safe spaces where we feel safe enough to explore and trust ourselves enough to respect our boindaries.) So hey i think your art is feally cool and i appreciate the work you put in.

Hey so I mentioned this on my other socials recently but no, Norma and I are not a system and no I do not have DID or am pretending to. (Just wanted to clear that up as I know there is a lot of discourse online about DID and I wanted to make that distinction very clear.)

Norma and I are "twins" she is a SFW gamer girl who makes music, I am an NSFW creator who makes hypnosis and ASMR. That's really all that happens here. We are two sides of the same coin, and while we sound alike we are not. It is a very hard line seperation from my kink and my not kink work.

While I am here too I will mention for people in my Norma space from the kink scene, that's cool and I get we all have lives outside of kink but I also hope people respect that ParaNorma does not engage in kink of any kind, does not do NSFW work of any kind and if you enter that space, you keep that in mind and behave accordingly.

I am very excited more people are asking about Norma and honestly if you haven't heard the music yet, I encourage you to check it out here: https://www.youtube.com/@paranorma_

[toyintrance]

i think gio got into the bioengineering side of things for mostly vanilla medical science-y interest, messing with genes that provide disease resistances or turning on/off genes that stimulate cell growth and such. they still do that sort of thing sometimes, but they were also a zoobooks kid and when they learn about a weird thing an animal can do that people can't their first thought is "how can i put this into the human genome?"

they don't have a lot of visible augmentation themself, but if you catch them in the right light, their eyes gleam with the same eerie glow as a cat's. they can also eat eucalyptus leaves without getting sick (they were curious about the koalas-only snack, and then subsequently disappointed).

But naturally, people like the idea of transformation for all sorts of reasons, and Dr. Organello operates under an informed consent model. It's not their place to question why someone wants teeth that grow back like a shark's. Far be it from them to deny a lovely couple the two sets of antlers they're willing to pay big bucks for. They can just... strongly advise that the couple wait for things to finish growing in before they decide to lock antlers with each other.

[sophieinwonderland]

thought you would appreciate the data in this study, its a small sample size but, its nice to see it among the scientific literature, using the word plural, acknowledging endos leaving behind the structural model of dissociation, and advocating for a better understanding of plurals and dissociative trans people.

https://www.sciencedirect.com/science/article/pii/S246874992300042X?dgcid=coauthor

thank you for the good work you do citing sources and combatting misinfo towards endos.

im traumagenic, but my partner is a tulpamancer, and i cant get over the hate they suffer.

good luck, and keep going strong ✌️

Thanks!

It's moments like this that I'm sad Sci-Hub doesn't work for articles past 2021. 😢

Even still, the introduction was interesting even if that's basically all that's available.

The first thing I check on a lot of these articles is just the authors.

And I'm happy to see that these look like mostly new names from reputable clinics and universities. As it concerns debates about endogenic plurality, I'm glad to have more people researching this across the field.

More acknowledgement by more people is incredibly vital.

Beyond that, I love that the connection between plurality and gender is being explored here with the goal of helping systems who are seeking gender-affirming care.

For those who identify as both transgender and plural, the likelihood of receiving affirming care is low. Medical and mental health care often does not meet the needs of the transgender community, frequently reinforcing stigma (Noonan et al., 2018; Rees, Crowe & Harris, 2020). People with dissociative symptoms also have trouble accessing mental health care (Nester, Hawkins & Brand, 2022). Providers’ implicit biases regarding both gender identity and plurality may contribute to these disparities, leading to non-affirming treatment (Price et al., 2022). There is movement toward a more inclusive, affirming approach to this population, one which does not start with an underlying assumption of pathology. One transgender and plural mental health care practitioner noted that dissociation for them was not unreal or pathological (Henkin, 1998). Ribáry, László, Demetrovics and Maraz (2017) interviewed six systems and concluded that, in this cohort, “most systems function relatively well in everyday life” (p.1). The 13 participants with DID in Hunter's study (2016) reported they preferred a client directed approach that honored their subjective experience. Yarbrough (2018) observed that many plural systems did not experience distress from the existence of other internal headmates, and recommended shared decision making among headmates when pursuing treatment. Rivera (2002) concluded that transgender clients with dissociation could “make reasoned choices and they could live relatively peacefully” (p. 51) about gender, asserting that while mental health clinicians should assess for DID, clinicians should not presume that dissociation precludes transgender clients from providing adequate informed consent for transition-related treatment.

I hope research like this helps will help better inform healthcare for systems. This is obviously specific to gender-affirming care but other care, but with luck it can impact result in research into other forms as well.

Added it to my new Studies and Research page.

Thanks again for sharing! 😁

[et-excrucior]

So I’m going to highlight something I’m not sure people who like skeletons and curiosities think about often:

the human skeletal remains you see for sale in oddities shops were invariably grave-robbed.

I worked with human remains in an academic research context in the US for more than a decade. One of the first things I tried to teach my students was respect for the remains in our collections, not only because they were people, deserving of dignity in their death, but also because most of the skeletal remains in academic teaching collections were not donated voluntarily. In most cases, we have no idea exactly where they came from or to whom they belonged.

Historically, there has been a huge international trade in human skeletal remains for teaching medical students. The trade reached its peak in the 19th Century and continued for much of the 20th, and while ostensibly the practice was banned in India in 1985, it does still exist illegally. In the US and Europe, most of the remains in teaching collections were sourced from India through bone traders. Bone traders were (are) lower caste people charged with disposing of human remains—often by cremation, but also by interring in graves—but instead of doing so, sold the remains on to medical schools in the US/Europe through the intermediary of anatomical and medical supply companies. These anatomical specimens are the remains of people who were, unknowingly and without consent of their loved ones, denied their humanity in death to satisfy the appetite of the West for anatomical specimens, despite the remains of their own people being considered largely sacrosanct.

Which leads me to my next point: this practice originated under British Colonialism in India. I hope I don’t need to draw this point out, but objectification of these remains by medical students and researchers is a furtherance of the Western colonial project and othering of people of colour. As medical students, we’re trained to divorce ourselves emotionally from the remains we learn from in the name of professionalism. Medicine can often be confronting, and it serves patients and doctors alike to be able to continue working calmly and objectively in the face of those challenges. But in a world where empires and scientific disciplines have been (and continue to be) built on a legacy of scientific racism and dehumanisation, it behooves us to consider exactly how those teaching specimens were acquired—and how they came to be for sale.

Any human skeleton or human bones you see for sale in oddity stores are invariably retired teaching specimens, or were otherwise originally purchased through an anatomical specimen supply company that leveraged bone traders for acquiring their wares. In other words, those remains were grave-robbed, or stolen from funeral pyres and morgues. It is vanishingly unlikely that they are remains of known, ethically-sourced provenance like informed donation. If they were, they would not have been relinquished to the general public to be sold for profit. There would be contractual obligations that dictate how those remains would be managed once they need to be retired from teaching/decommissioned.

Please keep this in mind when you see human remains for sale in oddity shops. Buy plastic or ceramic teaching models instead. Don’t unwittingly continue creating a market for stolen human remains.

[vizthedatum]

AI is not the problem—we are. It's the way people and corporations devalue the work of creators, the way data is gathered and trained for these generative models, and the way we look to these as solutions, forgetting that they are only tools (that could be used way more ethically).

“AI” is just math, tech, statistics, and computing power... Built upon the resources mined from this earth and the minds of our collective species.

I believe that our creative and natural resources can never be replaced in their worth.

I am a data scientist by trade, and I build statistical models and AI. I use (non-generative) AI to help me understand how the world works and make decisions (including creation).

I sometimes program my art (or I use tools like Inkscape or similar software to help me! I use a computer!!) - because I can write instructions like a recipe where I gather all my ingredients with consent and fair use. (I can program, is what I’m saying. I can curate what data I'm using.)

I can have a tool to carry out my will to create. I am not arguing about that.

So, I understand the disability argument being made with generative AI.

Accessibility is important, and I agree with making information and creation more accessible.

I love that people can learn about stuff. My suggestion is for groups in power to make better search engines, tutorials, and tools for things with AI. Help people with formats! Help people automate!! I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

—

But here is the nuance to this:

—

Generative AI is an unethical tool if it feeds off work you can't see or validate.

This a corrupted data issue. This is a corrupted “people in power” issue.

There is a lack of transparency in these tools' decision-making. AI's intelligence is only as good as the intelligence of the data and algorithms.

It is a regurgitation of information that is feeding on itself.

So I don’t really care about people who use tools to create things - but I do care when those outputs are not crediting other artists’ works. I do care when systemic discrimination shows up in AI results because our data is inherently flawed (because our data is from our people).

We must be more critical and nuanced about how we talk about this.

The technology (statistical, machine, and deep learning models) has been around for a long time. Papers on deep learning have existed for decades. As a researcher, I find the math fascinating.

The leaps have been tremendous, but again… it’s not the nature of the tools themselves.

It’s us.

How are we using these tools, what information is being given to these tools, and what are the lasting impacts on our society?

[notknickers]

kortac's new seasonal uniforms

with the change of season comes a change in tactical clothing necessities.

click below the cut for a preview of the kind of fashion that will become prevalent on base and field alike.

a disclaimer, before we begin: colonel könig kindly offered to model the new uniforms out of the kindness of his bottomless heart and his strong sense for duty and commitment.

he was not:

lured in a trap under false pretenses; (the colonel is a hard one to dupe... would be reason for pride if someone concocted a successful plan... but we wouldn't know about it, because NOBODY at kortac DID.)

injected with potent anesthetics against his will and without his informed consent according to his height and weight to ensure optimal duration; (access to said information about our contractors is available to kortac for safety reasons: no malicious use of said info is ever intended.)

stripped and redressed while unconscious multiple times; (no one at the base is suddenly feeling insecure about his manhood, alright? NO ONE!)

given a different cocktail of substances to ensure compliance; (and even if that happened - which it didn't - no harm would come of it, thanks to the up-to-date medical information kortac keeps of our contractors. i told you it was just for safety reasons...)

unwillingly or unlawfully detained until all outfits have been modeled for; (there is no known detention area at kortac's hqs.)

efficiently blackmailed to ensure no retaliation; (medical information is not all kortac keep abreast of.)

i repeat, quite emphatically, no colonel was harmed longterm. for security reasons, no further private details about a contractor shall be given.

01. the leather daddy

the perfect outfit to blend amongst queer subversives.

whether infiltrating and fomenting discord amongst the targets or removing key figures of queer liberation from circulation, this high-quality, black leather uniform will get you as close as you like... or don't...

according to our intel, they are excellent at sabotaging each other without the need for external interference, but kortac bought the uniforms, already, so here they are.

02. the children's hospital

red means love

tasked with protecting a client from further harm after they incurred injury, or with being the last thing your hospitalised target sees? look no further! a blend of reds to blend with architecture and personnel alike and no one will be able to tell you from the medical environment.

also, great for camouflaging blood stains.

03. fire in the hole!

the king is smo-oh-king! tsssssssssssss... ouch!

arsonist or sapper, the fiery uniform will let your comrades know it's time to mind their step when you're around or... kahboom!

friendly fire is such a tragedy...

04. grey mist

plain but lethal

luxurious, grey velvet to find your way to your target as quietly and inconspicuously as a cat. a must-have for the assassin-for-hire in the ranks.

05. latex

always play safe

medics! this semi-transparent latex uniform was thought especially for you! whether running routine tests on base soldiers or bringing succour in the midst of chaos, your patients will now have more than one reason to be happy to see you.

gloves not included.

06. retrofuture

oooohhhh! shiny!

stuck in a contract as bodyguard, playing nanny to some washed-up '90s pop/r&b star? daze and confuse paparazzos and stalkers alike with your dazzling silver outfit.

shine like the star you never could have otherwise been!

07. explosions in the night

get out the war veteran in you

life as a contractor can be challenging. it easily goes from adrenaline-filled operations where a single wrong move could spell the end, to long bouts on base, training and interacting with roughly the same people just like that!

so gather round your comrades, down a pint or ten and let the orange flames rising towards the cold, nightsky lead you all to collectively reminesce about all the chaos and destruction, whose consequences will probably outlive all of you, that you have wrought in your career.

(presence of one or more base psychologists advised.)

08. plasma core

for the professional crawler who likes to indulge his vanity

tired of you old, plain fatigues, after spending all that time studying escape routes and subterranean entrances of your target location? disappear in every tunnel, man-made or not, with this appropriately-hued uniform.

debris-filled and collapsed ruins, damp and dark caves, stinky sewers, the magma-filled centre of the earth itself... no hole in the ground will be match for you!

09. acid queen

ooohh... it glows!

looking to infiltrate techno clubs or desert raves? don't forget your signature outfit uniform, then!

10. höloqueen

regular

risqué

you're lost. exhausted. enemy troops are on your heels and their dogs have your scent. you and your team got separated, your rations won't last you the night and you're running our of ammo... most of all, nobody knows where you are and, probably never will.

does that sound frightening? does that sound familiar?

forget your flare gun and forget that scenario altogether. the höloqueen will get you back to your team members and safe home in no time.

kortac claims no responsibility for improper use that gets the operator spotted by enemy assets.

11. lace angel

matte

sheer

you didn't think kortac would think of everything but underclothes, did you?

hm, what's that? do you want to be found in your grandma's knickers when a high-ranking official takes a special interest in you, or your comrades surprise you en masse with a unanimous election to barracks bunny?

hm, didn't think so...

fraternisation? this isn't the military. this is a private company.

similar rates of abuse of power and sexual assault, you say?

...

oh, look! it seems the other soldiers on the base are exchanging war stories! why don't you join them? here, don't forget your complementary explosions in the night outfit!

thank you @kathy-ifnt for helping me adjust the proportions, your advices and resources and, most of all, listening to my whining ♥

[roguetelepaths]

"depression is ALWAYS a PHYSICAL PROBLEM IN THE BRAIN and if you had bad side effects from SSRIs it just means you were on the wrong one" okay how about you eat my entire ass lol

Every single SSRI I've ever tried has either done nothing for me, made me dangerously unstable, or turned me into a literal zombie. Every. Single. Fucking. One. They are not a class of medication that works well for me. Neither are any of the other psychiatric medications I've been put on. Because the vast majority of my specific problems stem from the long-term effects of continuous trauma and poverty, and there isn't yet a chemical that can give me a non-abusive childhood and a thriving wage.

(5-HTP— serotonin's chemical precursor— works much better for me, which leads me to believe that if there is a structural neurochemical thing going on with me, it's that my brain isn't making enough of the good shit in the first place, not that it's sucking it back up too fast. Which kind of makes sense to me as an adaptation of a brain that's been in survival mode since birth, but I'm not a neuroscientist, I'm just some dirtbag with a blog.)

Do I think that SSRIs do that to everyone? No. Emphatically, absolutely not. I know several people including my partner who I love dearly for whom they're life-saving. I can't feel anything on Prozac, but my partner can't feel anything without it. Brains are weird and they work differently from one another and scientific models of neuropsychology aren't nearly as universal as they pretend to be.

People with bad psychiatric experiences need to be listened to and welcomed as part of the greater community of psychiatrically disabled people. We DO NOT need comic sans powerpoints telling us to try different medications and saying shit like "u made the meds sad by spreading misinfo :(". If someone is saying their bad psychiatric experiences are universal, then yeah, absolutely call that shit out. But like, your GOOD experiences aren't any more universal. Informed consent requires both perspectives.

In conclusion maybe don't take medical advice from fucking comic sans powerpoints. I mean, don't take it from me either. I'm just some asshole on the internet, as we've established. But I'm also not out here trying to GIVE medical advice. There's a world of fucking difference between "here's what these drugs do to me every time I try to take them" and "well you just need to keep trying new drugs, sweaty :)"