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?
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Right.
This thing's not gonna roast itself...
This is for a Middle Kingdoms recipe (but this approach is also long established on our version of Earth). Pumpkin or butternut squash slices are tossed in olive oil, laid out in the pans and sprinkled with chili flakes and a little salt. Whole peeled garlic cloves get inserted here and there; the whole business then sprinkled with oregano (though in the Kingdoms they'd be more likely to go for sage or thyme). A few thyme sprigs are scattered here and there. Then everything goes into the oven and gets roasted at 200° C / 400° F for about 40 minutes.
Some people like to add small chunks of feta or similar sheep's milk cheese to this. I usually give that a pass, both because I'm not a big feta fan and because I like not to have to take a lactase pill sometimes...
So now the result:
...And now for dinner. :) (In the background, @petermorwood is making small new-ish potatoes roasted in duck fat. "Well, the oven's hot, why waste the energy...?")
Meanwhile, the other half of the pumpkin remains to be dealt with. Tomorrow, a regional/seasonal Steldene delicacy: pumpkin tarts with hard Teinakh cheese and spiced pumpkin-flour pastry. They're gonna look so weird—pumpkin flour tends to turn things dark, if not positively green—but the flavor...! :)
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You have to understand. I don't "ship" Harry with the smoker on the balcony, I think whatever they have going on canonically is way funnier and touching than anything anyone could come up with.
There is so much within the dynamic itself. It’s a middle aged man and a younger man who are nothing alike and everything like each other. It’s the smoker being the person that kickstarts Harry’s sexuality journey anew, seeing Harry’s fascination with him and being amused by it because (aside from Harry being probably the first man in a while who’s managed to leave him dumbfounded in a positive way) the smoker *knows* what’s happening in Harry’s mind and as he puts it, it’s beautiful.
Don't get me wrong, the mutual attraction is there. The smoker flirts with Harry every other two lines (girl why the fuck are you flirting with a cop you're insane. I'm obsessed with you) yet makes fun of him in the same breath while Harry is absolutely clueless the whole time because he's too busy staring at his abs. Couldn't come up with anything funnier if I tried.
I love this high drama check, this is exaclty what it feels like to speak to clueless boomers who have no idea what they're talking about. Still, once Harry admits that he might be part of the "underground" as he puts it, the smoker is immediately excited and encourages him to think about it. It's very sweet.
(I know everyone has probably seen this dialogue 100 times by now but I love the phrasing here. literally twink_boutta_pounce.jpeg)
And as a side note I really like this emphaty check in response to Harry's little breakdown after the failed suggestion check the first time you meet him. The smoker like damn he just like me fr.
I don't think more smoker interactions were needed at all or that they would ever talk again post-game but it's interesting to think about what other converations they could have, even just so we could learn a bit more about him. They both have an interest in art. They're both stuck in a place they can't leave if they wanted to and yet find beauty in it, they both have regrets about past relationships. They both find talking with the other a charming experience in a way or another. If I want to be indulgent, they both could benefit from learning about what being gay means for a younger/older generation, especially since they both have such different life experiences with their identities.
It's all fanfic talk, and obviously no cops at pride and so on but their interactions did make me think about community and recognition through the other. A flirt for the sake of a flirt, a “maybe in another lifetime” but this lifetime is good too because they did meet and leave an impression on each other before parting ways. That's *beautiful* too.
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I wanna talk about Gon's "Im glad I met you" declaration, because it warms my heart.
Greed Island is the closest thing to a gift his dad has ever given Gon, a gift he had been excited to play but that no one cares about, killing each other for a reward, and destroying the game's original intent.
He feels like he is the only one properly playing Ging's game and respecting what his dad wanted when he created Greed Island.
But Killua reassures Gon that the game mechanics allow players to steal cards, so it's not a disrespect to Ging's game, just a different play style from Gon's.
This shows that killua cares about this 'world ging created' and how it works just as much as Gon, and that while some people are crossing the line with murders, others are still 'playing', which calms Gon down.
The most important part is how killua says "Let's enjoy the game by ourselves" with genuine excitement!
He effortlessly reminded Gon that this isn't just a 'challenge Ging left', it is also another of their fun adventures, and others don't matter because Killua will always follow him.
For as social as Gon is, this has always been a part of his life he didn't share much with his loved ones: Mito never liked his dad, Leorio and Kurapika always help when asked, but they have their own goals, and Gon would never drag them into something for himself, but Killua has always been by his side with a smile, from when Gon first listened to Ging's voice, to teaching Gon how Joy Stations works, all the way to entering the game, Killua makes this search for Ging fun, and Gon feels grateful for his presence.
He loves that his best friend is here, that he got to meet someone as smart and cool and amazing as Killua at all. So he tells him.
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So about that dinner…
[DP x DC fic]
[Love at first... murder? - part 2]
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Part 1
Ao3
---
Danny lets out a long groan as he enters his apartment.
He’s dead tired— hehe, ‘dead’ tired— due to an exhausting schoolday and having been unable to fall back asleep last night after what happened.
So sure, he might have started having a panic attack when he got back to his apartment when what he had just done had finally fully sunken in.
And he might have spiraled even more, even going as far as to try and trap himself in a Fenton thermos, thinking he was back on the path to becoming Dan.
Luckily for him, a green sticky note, left by his favorite unnecessarily cryptic mentor, appeared.
It let him know that he is no more on the path to becoming Dan than prior to the incident and that the actions he had taken that night, while vexatious, were necessary for the betterment of the timeline.
Whatever that means.
By the time he had come to terms with his actions enough to stop spiraling and remember that he has school soon. He checked the time, noticing that he only had a few minutes left until his next class started.
Which meant he had to sprint to his classes and start the day off already tired and emotionally drained. He hadn’t even been able to at least get a coffee beforehand. And so he spent the rest of the day fighting to stay awake during his lessons, sporting eye bags big enough to carry the weight of his sins.
Danny glances at the space-themed clock on the wall that Jazz had gotten him as a housewarming gift. 6 pm. He should probably get started on dinner.
Deciding to go with something simple, as he simply does not have the energy for anything fancy right now, Danny opens the cupboard and grabs the first thing he sees: a box of mac n cheese. Danny rubs his eyes and squints at the box, trying to read the instructions when he gets interrupted by a knock.
…
On his window.
…
Danny turns around to see Red Hood at his window, outside of his 3rd-floor apartment. He pauses before shrugging it off. Stranger things have happened. He sets the box down and makes his way over to the window. He opens the window once he reaches it, only to come face to face with a bouquet of sweet peas, the colors ranging from white and pink to lavender.
Oh, those are his favorite.
He gingerly takes the flowers before looking over the top of the bouquet at the person who handed them to him. Ah, yes. The crime lord. Who had seen him commit murder.
Danny stares at him, debating on whether he should ask him what he’s doing here or thank him for the flowers. Red Hood speaks up before Danny can make a decision.
“So about that dinner… ” He trails off, tone laced with hope and a slight nervousness.
“Right.” Danny nods with understanding, despite not having a clue what Red Hood was talking about, his joke the night before having slipped from his mind.
“I’ve got the entire night planned out for us. First, we’ll have dinner at Pete’s. They recently rebuilt and they have this amazing cannoli, you have to try it sometime.
“And then after dinner, we’ll go to the Gotham Observatory—“
Danny, not even questioning how the crime lord found out where he lives and that he loves space, cuts him off in excitement.
“Wait! Isn’t that the one with the crystal powered telescope?”
Red Hood nods and holds out a hand to him expectantly.
Danny stares at the hand for a moment before shrugging, setting the flowers down on a table, and taking the offered hand. He lets Red Hood lead him out of his own window.
Once Red Hood has helped him down to the ground and led him to his motorcycle, it dawns on Danny he’s going on a date(?) with a known crime lord— or wasn’t it former crime lord now?
Well, who was Danny to refuse a trip to the observatory and some good cannoli?
Who knows, he might even get a new boyfriend out of it.
---
Red Hood takes his helmet off and sets it down on the table between them so he can eat.
Danny tries not to stare too much but damn, he’s handsome, even if he’s still wearing the mask.
Danny takes a bite of his food to try and distract himself, idly noting that ohhh, this is some good spaghetti. He'll have to try the cannoli if it's as good as their pasta.
Red Hood is the one to start the conversation.
“Hey, so, since we didn’t get to talk more last night, I still wanted to thank you for your service to the city”
“My what?”
“I’ve been wanting to kill that insane clown for years now.” Red Hood continues.
“And while I’m a little disappointed that I didn’t get to end his miserable existence myself, I’m so glad he’s finally gone. So, thank you” he says, looking Danny right in the eye with an earnest expression.
Feeling a mix of flustered at the heavy gaze that’s on him, and confused by the other’s words, Danny stammers out a bewildered “You’re… welcome?”
Red Hood nods at him before continuing.
“And you don’t have to worry about others finding out if you don’t want them to. I ain’t a snitch, and I’ll try to keep the Bats off your back the best I can.”
Danny gives him a nod in gratitude.
“Though honestly, I’d doubt you’d have to deal with much trouble even if people did know it was you who got rid of him.
“The Joker has done a lot of horrid shit and caused a lot of grief for Gotham over the years. He’s had it coming for a long time now, so don’t even feel too bad about it. It might even become a local holiday when his death comes out!”
However, something Red Hood had said stood out to Danny. He stiffens before blurting something out in a tone that sounded even more panicked than when he accidentally killed the clown.
“THAT CLOWN I PUNCHED WAS THE JOKER?!”
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