#immune heart

[inkskinned]

so one of the things that's so horrifying about birth control is that you have to, like, navigate this incredibly personal choice about your body and yet also face the epitome of misogyny. like, someone in the comments will say it wasn't that bad for me, and you'll be utterly silenced. like, everyone treats birth control like something that's super dirty. like, you have no fucking information or control over this thing because certain powerful people find it icky.

first it was the oral contraceptives. you went on those young, mostly for reasons unrelated to birth control - even your dermatologist suggested them to control your acne. the list of side effects was longer than your arm, and you just stared at it, horrified.

it made you so mentally ill, but you just heard that this was adulthood. that, yes, there are of course side effects, what did you expect. one day you looked up yasmin makes me depressed because surely this was far too intense, and you discovered that over 12,000 lawsuits had been successfully filed against the brand. it remains commonly prescribed on the open market. you switched brands a few times before oral contraceptives stopped being in any way effective. your doctor just, like, shrugged and said you could try a different brand again.

and the thing is that you're a feminist. you know from your own experience that birth control can be lifesaving, and that even when used for birth control - it is necessary healthcare. you have seen it save so many people from such bad situations, yourself included. it is critical that any person has access to birth control, and you would never suggest that we just get rid of all of it.

you were a little skeeved out by the implant (heard too many bad stories about it) and figured - okay, iud. it was some of the worst pain you've ever fucking experienced, and you did it with a small number of tylenol in your system (3), like you were getting your bikini line waxed instead of something practically sewn into your body.

and what's wild is that because sometimes it isn't a painful insertion process, it is vanishingly rare to find a doctor that will actually numb the area. while your doctor was talking to you about which brand to choose, you were thinking about the other ways you've been injured in your life. you thought about how you had a suspicious mole frozen off - something so small and easy - and how they'd numbed a huge area. you thought about when you broke your wrist and didn't actually notice, because you'd thought it was a sprain.

your understanding of pain is that how the human body responds to injury doesn't always relate to the actual pain tolerance of the person - it's more about how lucky that person is physically. maybe they broke it in a perfect way. maybe they happened to get hurt in a place without a lot of nerve endings. some people can handle a broken femur but crumble under a sore tooth. there's no true way to predict how "much" something actually hurts.

in no other situation would it be appropriate for doctors to ignore pain. just because someone can break their wrist and not feel it doesn't mean no one should receive pain meds for a broken wrist. it just means that particular person was lucky about it. it should not define treatment.

in the comments of videos about IUDs, literally thousands of people report agony. blinding, nauseating, soul-crushing agony. they say things like i had 2 kids and this was the worst thing i ever experienced or i literally have a tattoo on my ribs and it felt like a tickle. this thing almost killed me or would rather run into traffic than ever feel that again.

so it's either true that every single person who reports severe pain is exaggerating. or it's true that it's far more likely you will experience pain, rather than "just a pinch." and yet - there's nothing fucking been done about it. it kind of feels like a shrug is layered on top of everything - since technically it's elective, isn't it kind of your fault for agreeing to select it? stop being fearmongering. stop being defensive.

you fucking needed yours. you are almost weirdly protective of it. yours was so important for your physical and mental health. it helped you off hormonal birth control and even started helping some of your symptoms. it still fucking hurt for no fucking reason.

once while recovering from surgery, they offered you like 15 days of vicodin. you only took 2 of them. you've been offered oxy for tonsillitis. you turned down opioids while recovering from your wisdom tooth extraction. everything else has the option. you fucking drove yourself home after it, shocked and quietly weeping, feeling like something very bad had just happened. the nurse that held your hand during the experience looked down at you, tears in her eyes, and said - i know. this is cruelty in action.

and it's fucked up because the conversation is never just "hey, so the way we are doing this is fucking barbaric and doctors should be required to offer serious pain meds" - it's usually something around the lines of "well, it didn't kill you, did it?"

you just found out that removing that little bitch will hurt just as bad. a little pinch like how oral contraceptives have "some" serious symptoms. like your life and pain are expendable or not really important. like maybe we are all hysterical about it?

hysteria comes from the latin word for uterus, which is great!

you stand here at a crossroads. like - this thing is so important. did they really have to make it so fucking dangerous. and why is it that if you make a complaint, you're told - i didn't even want you to have this in the first place. we're told be careful what you wish for. we're told that it's our fault for wanting something so illict; we could simply choose not to need medication. that maybe if we don't like the scraps, we should get ready to starve.

we have been saying for so long - "i'm not asking you to remove the option, i'm asking you to reconsider the risk." this entire time we hear: well, this is what you wanted, isn't it?

[h20milk]

in conjunction with this [ post ] please read i want to hold aono-kun so badly i could die!

[naturecalls111]

don't interrupt the kage meeting

[wtfforged]

i like to play and drawww

[gwinver-art]

Some Thespius doodles as I'm figuring out how to draw him in my style!

this is how I'm naming my layers now help

[axcyndraws]

I love them so much-

Double Hearted by the wonderful @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11 !!!

[turtleblogatlast]

Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water

Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear

[metalkaloids]

i already posted this on twitter a good bit ago but this is the only finished drawing i have of hotguy !!

of course hotguy design and au by the wonderful @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11

[ar-guile]

[whatidkwhatimsupposedtowriye]

[coolerhope]

I like Langworth cuz you can tell that Edgeworth has a type™ and that Lang meets Edgeworth, who's running on like 3 hours of sleep and might be slightly concussed and is arguably having the second worst week of his life, and thought "smash".

[wordpress-blaze-241241737]

Living Beyond Cancer: Embracing Life's Contradictions

Talking about oneself can be awkward, to say the least—at least for me. Whether you have a story or not (and on paper, I do): two-time cancer survivor, from wheelchair to walker, and a boatload of miracle babies. But I’m getting ahead of myself. My name is Briana Mae. Briana means strong, Mae means mother. My parents had no idea the foreshadowing they were doing when they named me. It’s quietly ironic how eventually, everything connects.

I was born on a rainy night in May, making me the elite sign—a Taurus. I’m the last of my siblings. The typical little sister: annoying and historically funny. I loved to read, to be outside. I had a family that loved me. Everything was fine. Everything was good—at least on the outside. On the inside, for years, I was quite literally dying. Isn’t it insane how the essence of you can be an oxymoron? Your whole existence, a contradiction.

On September 17th, at twelve years old, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I fought the good fight and I won. I did the intense chemotherapy, the radiation treatments. I lost all of my hair—but I was free. Free, yet so fucking sad. I felt so defeated, even though I “won.” I was so confused as a twelve-year-old, wondering what about any of that signified that I won. I did nothing and had so much taken from me. All I did was sit there—the medicine did it. The same medicine that led to being told, at twelve, I would never have kids.

I lost the ability to just be. Anxiety became a wave crashing over me. And who was this “me,” anyway? I was no longer Briana. I was the girl who had cancer. The pity in everyone’s eyes hurt worse than the surgeries. The loss of me—that was the real disease. And man, was it ever fleeting. I questioned everything. I questioned God. Did He not want me here?

As I was questioning Him—my faith, the point of life—He did it again. At fifteen, on September 18th, I found out I had relapsed. Stage 4B Hodgkin’s Lymphoma. I was in awe, to say the least. Cancer was a ghost I couldn’t outrun. I had to face it. I had to go through it again. And on my first day of treatment, I almost died. I had an allergic reaction to the chemotherapy and my throat closed. I was out for hours. But by the grace of God—and some overtime from the universe—I didn’t.

That moment changed my life. It shifted the tone of everything that came after. Suddenly, it all started to click. I didn’t get cancer to be punished. I got it—and got it again—to be blessed. Crazy to say, I know. But hear me out. My second diagnosis gave me all the answers I had been struggling to understand. The answer lies in the contradiction of it all—the act of living while dying, and the beauty of it.

The beauty that lies in the struggle. The wisdom that comes from battling something alone. My diagnosis affected everyone deeply, but at the end of the day, it was just me—faced with the reality that I might die. The questions that come with that are immeasurable. What do you think? What do you believe? Where am I going to go? The craving to know, to try and have control over everything, while knowing damn well you’re in a situation where you have none.

That’s when I realized the weight of mind over matter. The genuine freedom that comes with letting go. The strength that seeps out of you when you find the will within yourself. I had to mourn my childhood, my teenage years, and at times, the ability of my limbs—but I got to celebrate my strength, my perseverance, and I found my thirst for life again. I was able to learn. To grow.

The reality is: there’s nothing in this world without shadows. Even the most dazzling sights around cast them.

There’s life in death, and death in life.

And somehow, that contradiction made everything make sense.

It reminded me that even in the middle of pain, something sacred can still exist—hope, laughter, love, the smallest acts of trying. I was dying, and yet I was more alive than I had ever been, because I was finally awake to what living really meant. I began to see miracles in ordinary moments: the way laughing with my friends felt, the way my body kept showing up for me even when it was breaking, the way people loved me without needing to understand the weight I was carrying.

That realization carried me—through treatment, through grief, through life. Even now, when things are hard, I go back to that truth: that everything is worth trying for, that every breath is worth being here for, and that there is a strength buried deep inside us, waiting to rise.

No matter how dark the road ahead seems, we hold the fire within us to push through. It’s not always easy, and it’s not always clear how we’ll get to the other side. But in the face of adversity, we are given the power to rise. There’s a strength in us that’s greater than any diagnosis, greater than any setback. Life might feel overwhelming at times, and the end may seem out of reach, but we must never forget: miracles happen every day. They told me it would take years for me to walk after treatment left me basically paralyzed, and yet I walked within the first year. They told me I’d never have children, and now I have three beautiful ones.

These experiences remind me that nothing is impossible, and even in our weakest moments, we carry the potential to defy the odds. When we face our darkest days, we are often standing at the cusp of our greatest breakthroughs. 

I spent the last ten years allowing others and even myself to define me based on something that happened to me, but not based on my beliefs, my soul, my morals—not the core of who I am. We are not what happened to us. I was not being punished. My pain and struggle can bring light insight. 

We can rise through it all. We will be resilient. We will have the life we deserve: a life that is calm, a life that is healthy, a life filled with peace and joy. We have the power within us to redefine our narrative, to rise above the things that once seemed impossible, and to create the future we’ve always dreamed of.

Source: Living Beyond Cancer: Embracing Life's Contradictions

[sp-ace11]

Ah the dangers of heroism

Absolutely in love with the Desert Duo Vigilante AU that @kitsuneisi and @xmaruu11 have made as well as their epic designs

(Less shaded news version under the cut)

[aiixen]

Sighs

[maskedchip]

i think he's really funny

[ironteeth-fury]

Graves and Shepherd who get pardoned after the whole Las Almas debacle because power, money, connections and America

And price and laswell try their goddamn bests but there is nothing they can do

And Ghost is a wreck. Two men he worked with, that he had to trust in the field, who /betrayed/ him, and there are no consequences? This is not something he can fix, not a problem he can make go away with a knife or a gun because he's army and legally their hands are tied.

And he would, he knows he would hunt them down and kill them and take the fall for it, if that means that he never comes home to dead loved ones again because he left a threat out in the world, a threat he ran away from instead of dealing with it.

But he also knows if he kills them, Price will get in trouble. Laswell too, likely. Maybe even Gaz and Soap.

So he stays put, barely sleeps, obsessively keeps an eye on his team and doesnt let them out of his sight. Becomes paranoid about checking locks and watching his team sleep. Hates hates hates that Laswell and her wife dont live on base -how is he supposed to watch, protect and defend if she isnt here?

And Soap sees all of this and tries to help, really he does, but nothing has an effect and he can see ghost collapsing under the sleep deprivation.

So he fibbs. Tells ghost hes been having nightmares (true) about las almas (true) about stalking the streets and being alone (also true) and would ghost please keep watch while soap sleeps because then he wont be alone. And soap made it out of that hell with Ghost watching over him, so if ghost watches over him again he'll make it out of this hell, too. And yes, this is all true.

But its also a ploy in the hope that Ghost will accept the same favor after.

He's heard his sisters complain about their husbands plenty, about how they will not accept help unless they think theyre providing it instead. So he tries that, and it helps, but not enough.

And Soap, desperately in love with Ghost at this point, angry at the world, impulsive and protective and oh so skilled, has had enough.

He does his research, makes preperations, gets another idea, thinks /fuck it/ and works on incorporating that, too.

He gets Price to send him and Ghost back to las almas, to help rudy and alejandro.

He crosses his t's and dots his i's

And asks Simon on a date.

Simon is fucking blindsided by this, it came out of nowhere what the fuck? And because he is so startled his brain gets no time to overthink and he just blurts out a "yes". Soap grins, pats him on the arm and tells him to be ready at 7, wear comfortable clothes.

So simon spends the rest of the day freaking out, he doesnt know how to date, hes never been on a date in his life. Dinner, movies, minigolf? What the fuck is he supposed to do with that??

And then Soap shows up with a dazzling grin and workout gear and hands him a gift. "Didnae think you were the type for flowers, L.t." he'll say, and its a /knife/ and its clearly custom made, different types of flowers etched into the blade and the handle both. Its sharp and perfectly balanced and the nerves calm down

Soap knows who he asked out, knows he would be uncomfortable with dinner and a movie. Ghost just has to trust him.

Its kind of scary how easy it is to admit that, yes, he does trust Johnny. With his life -with the lives of his loved ones. With his nightmares and his memories and the fact that his hands shake when there is dirt under his nails.

So he takes the knife, says thank you, and follows Soap.

And Soap? Takes him to a mission briefing? There are blueprints and schedules and movement logs. Soap wont tell him the target or exactly what theyre doing, and Ghost feels like he should be wary, but he isnt.

Because its Soap.

So Soap takes him on this mission and it ends with Graves on his knees in front of them, hands cuffed behind his back, and Johnny telling him "you can either kill him here, or I have a secondary location we can take him. We have all night, and all of tomorrow as well. Whatever you want, darling"

So yeah, murder date. Knife gifts. And i have more ideas on how this goes but tbh i am writing this and wouldn't wanna spoil everything ahaha.

Inspired by a blsky thread that made my brain run wild. (Blsky link but also ao3 link for the same thread for those that prefer that)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58595743/chapters/162947845

And a lil bit of the actual writing cuz why not

[stoat-party]

One thing people forget about Joshua Graham is that he’s just casually immune to all drugs.

He doesn’t give any explanation beyond that one line. He was just genetically engineered to be the perfect Mormon, I guess.