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#and what they can prescribe are limited
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there are doctors there are hospitals there are specialists there is medicine there are systems in place so people do not have to suffer and be tortured under their own chronic pain daily and yet. they're all fucking inaccessible to the people who need it most!!! to what I would argue is most disabled people!! I'm so fucking done with the medical system.
#today is an absolutely wretched pain day that makes me want to not be here anymore but guess what!#wasted a whole year trying to convince my doctors I was in significant and disableing pain daily and the best they could do#is tell me to go to PT and to wait 6 months and tell them if it gets better#to prescribe some shit like gabapentin or otc pain meds and write me off#tell me they'll get new X-rays to see if it got worse by the summer#disability exists!! specialists exist! good doctors fucking exist!! somewhere!!! I'm sure!!#but here I sit. in excruciating amounts of pain unable to convince any fucking doctors of anything#and that year I spent pushing myself to the limit is wasted bc at the very end of it all only one guy listened to me#and he said no one in their giant ass facility could diagnose me#so I'm back to square one bc I got a new job which means new insurance and new doctors to try and convince again#I just want to be on disability so i can want to be alive again#I'm so frustrated and in pain constantly#what are people like me who have to work 40hrs to afford to live but don't have any family to rely on supposed to do??#just die? am i supposed to continue to work until im too disabled to move and be profitable unless i get lucky?#bc some fucking doctor finally decides to actually listen???#ive tried ALL THE DAMN TRICKS TOO. telling them a friend has it and thats how i found out. that my previous doctor was looking into it#etc etc#I'm SO done living like this i am exhausted.#and to know that i COULD BE HELPED. RIGHT NOW. is the worst fucking part#these systems are in place so people like me dont have to fucking suffer.#but i cant even do anything about it bc i have a cat.
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craycraybluejay · 5 months
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Any advice for taking painkillers (ibuprofen/non-nsaid and non-narcotic) when hard to eat?
#advice needed#also how much do you need to eat to protect your health when taking ibuprofen#also considering just finishing off the last of my percocet but idk if its a good idea i mean what if#what if i get some sort of disease and also get shot and stabbed you know#im very paranoid about using limited resources when i dont know if current issues will get worse or new issues will require them more#doctors should give out opiates like candy again and not just to very old people#like ok sure i can become an addict or more likely without i can experience acute pain go into pain shock and die#and even if i dont die i dont think i or anyone else deserves to suffer for no reason#painkillers should be more widely available you should not have to engage with drug dealers just for pain relief#but the unfortunate truth is some people with seriously debilitating and painful problems do have to resort to less than legal means#if they dont want to just suffer into suicidality#being in pain all the time makes living seem super overrated#dealers overcharge and are not always a safe source because they cut their drugs sometimes#doctors and lawmakers should step up and realize its better to risk the creation of an addict than the death of a disabled or sick person#and its better to prescribe more painkillers in a controlled medical environment where patients can be monitored and drugs are pure#than for people in need to have to risk their lives and health#i deserve pain relief goddamnit so do you#anyway tell me what to eat
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We need better fucking care infrastructure. I should not be trusted with anyone's care ever 💛
#thing is caring for myself? I'm not GREAT at it but i can scrape by#i know my limits i know how much or little i need to survive i know that i can usually more or less bounce back after a tough time#i think if my life fell out from under me i could probably scrape it back even if i wound up doing a lot of couch surfing in the meantime#i genuinely don't know how I'll survive if i have to be fucking sole carer for someone#dad's on his way back now and he's been prescribed antibiotics and hopefully that's that#but at least a couple of times a year there's some shit like this#an awful cough or an infection or a fucking insane choice to like do some diy on the outside of the house standing on the windowsill#he fucking nearly chokes on his food once or twice a week#maybe he's just one of those cockroach type motherfuckers who'll never die no matter how the universe steps on him#but I'm fucking PISSED that he's taking that for granted and won't even sit and fucking talk to me about what happens when his luck runs out#I've been looking after mum alone for what four hours today and I'm already so tired and frustrated i wanna die#i am. a deeply impatient and unsociable creature.#i can be infinitely patient with friends! those are my fave people i chose to have them in my life I'd wait like a fucking mountain for them#mum and i were.... already sort of At Odds before all this started.#i'm the kid she never 100% really wanted and who never really 100% wanted to be here#and now we're stuck together and one day possibly sooner than any of us want it will be. just the two of us.#and i just. i don't know what that looks like. i really don't.#anyway. mental breakdown over hopefullly.#with a bit of luck dad and i actually fucking TALK before the next one#idk man. i never really knew what i wanted to do with my life but i thought I'd have time to figure it out#but maybe I'm just. the unqualified burnout with covid memory damage and a whole ass other human to care for#the exact thing i set out to avoid when i decided never to have kids#anyway. enough oversharing.#thank you anyone who's read my spiralling tag rambles in solidarity i love you#mr. bees speaks
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ajaegerpilot · 2 years
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it is wild to me because looking at youtube therapists there are just so many of them where its like. i have to ignore 50% of what you say because you're fundamentally wrong and your vibes are off but you need to believe it because this is how you personally live your life. like many of them approach therapizing and giving advice with an air of expertise when it's like ... no this is literally just what works for you.
the therapists that have a style that I really vibe with are ones who constantly mention that this is just what works for them and what they prefer, not the ones that say 'this has helped my clients'. because the doctor who became obsessed with ivermectin also believes that ivermectin helps his clients, despite the robust studies that prove that ivermectin has no positive effect.
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thydungeongal · 22 days
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Most tabletop RPGs don't bother to have a rule like "characters can't walk through walls." It is either implicit or prescribed through having a special ability that specifically allows one to do. Now, an RPG that specifically had a character option that stated "this character cannot walk through walls" would instantly reframe every other character in the game. If only a specific type of character has some limitation that we humans would assume to be self-explanatory, what the hell is the baseline in this game?
Games have implicit or explicit assumptions about their characters. In D&D it is assumed that characters can see, hear, speak, walk unassisted, and so on. These capabilities can be taken away but only through very specific rules interactions. A character's ability to see isn't marked until a player says that they would like to play a blind character.
I don't even know where I was going with this. This started out with me thinking about how funny it would be to make like a supplement for a game that features these really strange and specific abilities that suddenly change the assumptions of the game. Like, a supplement that has a creature with an ability like "Floorwalker: this creature can walk on floors." Because none of the other creatures in the game have that ability, it's now implicit that they can't walk on floors.
Anyway if anyone would like to help me salvage this post by saying something insightful go right ahead, I'm gonna go make some pasta.
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087710 · 3 months
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blood when i wipe & i know it's urinary trouble, but this is like the fourth fucking time this has happened, first time of the new year, & i wish my body would stop self destructing. i went from having a clean bill of health for my kidneys and not having to see my dr until this june to getting this reoccurring infection that tbh has never really gone away and the antibiotics my primary care dr gave me this last time just barely pushed it out, but it doesn't even matter bc this bitch comes right fucking back like WHY!!!!
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lackadaisycats · 2 months
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I hope you know that literally nobody is going to be able to live up to the standard you, V*v, and Glitch have set and your arrogance and exploitation of your fanbase and connections has screwed millions of creatives out of their dreams because Hollywood is a joke that isn't worth telling and wealthy e-celebs like yourself have claimed the indie scene all to yourselves and moved the goalposts into the stratosphere.
Nope. This isn't a zero sum game. There is not some limited, prescribed number of indie trophy slots that a few studios greedily filled up, blocking everyone else out. That is not how it works. Nothing any other creator is doing - short of personally sending hired goons to your doorstep or stealing your credit cards - is taking anything away from you or preventing your success. In fact if an indie creator can manage to demonstrate that they've got something viable going, it may help to map out a pathway for others.
I think I'm not going to bother trying to address whether or not cartoons in return for support from fans - an entirely voluntary exchange - constitutes exploitation. And I'm living in the Midwest driving a 2007 economy car with 200k+ miles on it, but let's just skip past the assumptions that I'm wealthy and connected too.
Instead, let's get to the weirdly myopic notion that the indie scene is held captive by three studios. Maybe YouTube algorithms or Twitter bubbles are somewhat to blame, but in actuality there are so, so many individual people, friend groups, and small production houses out there making independent animation, I cannot possibly name them all.
Here are some anyway:
Far-Fetched Worthikids Satina | Scumhouse Noodle and Bun Punch Punch Forever Ramshackle Noodle Papajoolia | Pipi Angel Hare | The East Patch Jonni Peppers Salad Fingers Monkey Wrench Studio Heartbreak Felix Colgrave JelloApocalypse Odd1sout (started indie, got picked up by Netflix) Allie Mehner JaidenAnimations Lumi and the Great Big Galaxy Cloudrise | The Worlds Divide Telepurte RubberRoss James Lee ENA Godspeed | Olan Rogers Ollie and Scoops Meat Canyon Port by the Sea Kekeflipnote Boxtown Kevin Temmer Weebl Joel Haver CircleToons Long Gone Gulch Atlas and the Stars Animist Skibidi Toilet A Fox in Space Alex Henderson Talon Toniko Pantoja Sr. Pelo Hullabaloo Kane Pixels (started indie, picked up by A24) Homestar Runner Fennah Gods' School Alan Becker Dungeon Flippers JazLyte Psychicpebbles (started indie, Smiling Friends picked up by AS) Piemations vewn Metal Family Dead Sound chluaid Jacknjellify Betsy Lee | No Evil My Pride Cranbersher GeoExe | Gwain Saga Horatio the Vampire Mech West Playground | Rodrigo Sousa The Brave Locomotive Finchwing (+ many other Warrior Cats animators) Quazies SamBakZa Kamikaze: Trial by Fire
By no means a full list. That's just YouTube, and mostly just English language stuff, and I didn't even get to the multitudes of Warrior Cats animation collabs.
The point is, the indie landscape is vast and populated by creators new and old, making all kinds of animated media from skits, to shows, to ARGs, to films. Audience sizes vary as much as the content, stylistic approaches, subject matter, and budgets do. There are no compliance standards, no gateways to entry, no goalposts. There's not even any preset definition of success except what you decide for yourself.
Anyway, instead of nurturing your resentments, consider making something. I assure you, it's a far more rewarding use of your time and energy, and pretty much no one can stop you. ------------- EDIT- Made some additions to the list based on comments. Thanks!
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afeelgoodblog · 6 months
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The Best News of Last Week
🌍🌡️ - Climate Prophecy: The Forecast Is 100% Chance of 'Cool'
1. No cases of cancer caused by HPV in Norwegian 25-year olds, the first cohort to be mass vaccinated for HPV
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Last year there were zero cases of cervical cancer in the population that was vaccinated in 2009 against the HPV virus, which can cause the cancer in women. The HPV virus is extremely common, basically everyone comes into contact with one version or another of the virus in their lifetime.
The vaccine was given to girls only out of an abundance of caution, they were the most likely to contract cancer from the viruses, and because there was limited supply.
2. ‘Every square inch is covered in life’: the ageing oil rigs that became marine oases
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Built decades ago, California’s offshore oil platforms are home to a huge diversity of marine life. According to a 2014 study, the rigs were some of the most “productive” ocean habitats in the world, a term that refers to biomass – or number of fish and other creatures and how much space they take up – per unit area.
3. Vaccinations may have prevented almost 20 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide
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Vaccinations estimated to have averted 19.8 million COVID-19 deaths worldwide in their first year, according to the latest Imperial modelling study.
In the first year of the vaccination programme, 19.8 million out of a potential 31.4 million COVID-19 deaths were prevented worldwide according to estimates based on excess deaths from 185 countries and territories.
4. Global climate policy forecast predicts ‘well below 2°C’ Paris Agreement climate goals will be met
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They report only a 10% probability we exceed 2°C by 2050. Temperatures are expected to peak between 1.7°C and 1.8°C, which is consistent with the “well below 2°C” objective of the Paris Agreement in Art. 2.1c.
5. Young driver fatality rates have fallen sharply in the US, helped by education, technology
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Crash and fatality rates among drivers under 21 have fallen dramatically in the U.S. during the past 20 years.
Using data from 2002-2021, the report says that fatal crashes involving a young driver fell by 38%, while deaths of young drivers dropped even more, by about 45%.
6. A Virginia woman was feeling sad. Her doctor prescribed her a cat.
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7. Remote workers report saving $5,000 to $10,000 a year
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What value would American workers place on the privilege to work from home?
In a 2022 survey by FlexJobs, 45% of remote workers reported saving at least $5,000 a year. One in 5 reported saving $10,000 a year. The savings average out to about $6,000 a year. The poll reached 4,000 workers in July and August of last year.
Three years into the remote-work revolution, research increasingly suggests that telework is a commodity, a job descriptor worth thousands of dollars in potential savings and improved quality of life.
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That's it for this week :)
This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:
Buy me a coffee ❤️
Also don’t forget to reblog this post with your friends.
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lilac-5ky · 7 months
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Holed Up (Husband!Toji x Fem!Reader)
mini kinktober tribute: stuck in a wall/hole
plot: you should've known that asking Toji to help you out of a hole would lead him inside another—or that time you got stuck in the dog house and he bailed on you for KFC.
tags: MDNI, stuck in a wall/hole, pet play (kinda), breeding, doggy style, fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), spanking, pet names (bitch, baby), established relationship, crack plot, unsolicited kfc orders, i promise toji loves reader, he's just joking guys.
wc: 2.2k
Masterlist | Kinktober Masterlist | AO3
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“Whatcha doing?”
Sarcasm rolls from your husband’s tongue as he stares down at you. Back arched, knees bent, and head encased by wooden planks. Not the most flattering position to be found in, especially with how the light autumn breeze blows at your dress and parts its layers, opening a window to the pink panties of your choice.
His question feels excessive. He knows exactly what you are doing. It was only this morning that you asked him to dig poor ol’ Mister Stinky’s remains from the dog house and he claimed he’d rather buy his son a replacement. No arguing there, but should Megumi see what became of his favored stuffed animal—fuzzy entrails gutted out of the frog’s shredded belly in a path initiating from his bedroom—he’ll be having nightmares for weeks to come.
Besides, you doubt synthetic is the kind of fiber your vet prescribed for your puppy's diet.
“What you should’ve done instead.” You finally spit out, contempt over what Toji’s long fingers could’ve accomplished without him needing to stick half his body into a hole like your, admittedly, dumbass self did.
“For thirty minutes straight? Damn, seems I overestimated ya.”
Even though your view of him is limited to a pair of overworn black slippers, you can vividly picture his scarred lips pulling over his teeth in another of his complacent smirks that scream I told you so.
“Don’t have anything better to do than time me?”
“Nah,” Toji drawls. “Grew tired of waiting on ya, so I thought I’d come see how it’s going.”
“It’s going great!” You lie through your teeth. Anyone with a functioning pair of eyes could see how non-great this is going. “Anything else you need?”
“Well it is noon.” He points out.
“And?”
“And my darling wife’s out ‘ere, rolling in the mud when she should be having lunch with me.”
A snort flares in your nostrils. He is unbelievable.
“What a cute way of letting me know you’re hungry, Toji. You know, if you’d actually helped, I would’ve had the time to set the table and give Mister Stinky a proper burial, but I can’t do both at the same time, can I?”
“Mhm, so how ‘bout we help each other?” He suggests, undeterred. “I get your ass out, and you cook us somethin’ tasty real quick.”
“Wh-who said I was stuck? I can get out whenever I want.”
“Really, huh? What keeps ya from getting out this instant, then?”
“I don’t want to.” You answer wryly. “I like it here. It’s quiet, and I could use some time for myself.”
“In the dog house.” His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. He’s not buying an ounce of what you’re selling. “C’mon, don’t be stubborn. You’ll end up reeking of dung if ya stay here a minute longer. Lemme give ya a hand.”
You know that accepting his help comes at the exorbitant price of utter humiliation, but he’s got a point. Last night’s downpour emanates strongly from the saturated wood, a dizzying smell that turns overwhelming when combined with the strong odor of what you sincerely hope is not piss. Your knees are on the verge of collapsing, and there’s more dirt in your nails than if you dug a grave barehanded. Right now, a day in the bathtub seems like a panacea for your every issue.
Almost.
Kissing your teeth, you resign with a long-drawn sigh that’s barely audible over the rumble in your stomach. You shouldn’t have skipped breakfast.
A moment passes before you hear the crunch of leaves as they rustle beneath his feet; see a second pair of knees take place between your own. Then it’s two hands gripping at your hips, and eventually, a face—your husband’s handsome face that beams with a smug smile and eyes of mischief.
“Lookin’ good, sweetheart.” He greets, though you doubt he sees your face with all the hair that’s curtaining over your eyes while you hang upside down.
“What are you doing, Toji?” You recycle his question in an aggravated tone that fizzles out the second you feel his thumb press against your panties and tug the fabric to the side.
“Nothin’. Just curbing my hunger.” His finger teasingly glides across your nether lips and lands at your clit, while a palm large enough to envelope both your ass and cunt kneads at the tender flesh he’s offered. “Fridge’s empty, so.”
“This isn’t funny!”
“‘m not laughing, but c’mon. You hafta admit it’s pretty damn funny.” Warm air wafts from Toji’s mouth as he inches closer to your thighs. “Y’always whine when I fuck you from behind, but now? Look at you. Bent on all four like a real bitch.”
“T-Toji!”
Your breath hitches in your throat as he slides two fingers in your hole, languidly scissoring them in and out until there’s enough slick to lather your clit with. He circles around the nub while his fingers prod deeper inside, the icy touch of his wedding band clashing with the heat that sparks through your body when he bottoms out. A smothered moan gains echo as it bounces off the walls and into his ears.
“Such a well-trained pup,” Toji praises, retrieving his palm to lick his fingers. “Might win yourself a collar at this rate.”
You bite back your tongue before it can react to his backhanded comment, reminding yourself that you’re still outside, right where your neighbors can peek over the white picket fence for a quick hello and catch you slutting yourself out on your husband’s fingers.
“Can’t we continue this inside? Mrs. Honda is right next door, and M-Megumi—” You stutter when his palm returns to your body, its twin joining in spreading your cheeks further apart.
“Kid’s at school for another hour,” Toji mumbles, his hot tongue parting your folds with a long stroke that has your knees buckling. “So fuckin’ good,” he groans, his nose buried between your two holes while he lazily laps at your juices. “That sweet cunt is the reason why I married ya.”
You keen to his touch, hips bucking into his mouth, and walls clenching for more. “Only reason?”
“Nah. Consider that tight little ass as the second.”
His fingers burrow into the supple skin to squeeze at it, only lifting to deliver playful smacks that cause your ass to jiggle against his face. He growls into your pussy, mouthing all sorts of filth that gets drowned by your moans. It feels so good when he eats you out—it always does—but the probability of being caught in such a compromising position adds to the excitement.
The hand that’s trapped with you inside your pet’s house scratches at the wood, while the other rakes at the soil for grounding. Your orgasm creeps up on you, turning your vision blurry and tinting the darkness of space with colored specks. You are so close; all he needs to do is keep swirling at your clit, swallowing the entire bundle of nerves in his mouth, and sucking hard until—
“Ah, right.” He stops, words slurring from the threads of saliva that link his mouth with your cunt. “You said ya wanted time with yourself.”
Anger washes over you in place of the orgasm you were robbed of, the pleasurable fireworks traded for the obnoxious red alarm that goes off in your brain. “Toji, I swear to God, if you don’t fuck me right fucking now, the only lunch you’ll be seeing is KFC buckets for the rest of your life!”
A low chuckle falls flat from his lips. “Three. I love that snappy mouth ‘f yours.”
In an attempt to meet his eyes, you duck between your legs. Your hair mops the floor as you watch him pull down his pants and boxers, the last thing you see before blood shoots up in your head being the hard cock that dangles out of reach. The heat in your stomach stirs at the sight, anticipation building rapidly when you feel him run the reddened tip between your puffy folds.
“Sure you don’t want it here?” Toji taps his cock against your ass hole and your entire body jolts in response, a loud Toji amusing rather than deterring him. “A’right, a’right! Gotcha the first time.”
His profound dream of burying himself nine inches deep into your ass crumbles as he aligns his cock with the entrance of your pussy. You brace yourself, patiently awaiting that initial sting that never goes away; no matter how many times he fucks you or how diligently he preps you, the thickness of his girth always threatens to split you in half.
But now he’s stalling, a complacent smile sitting on his lips while he contemplates your silence. “Bet you’re red as a beet in there, aren’t ya?”
He plunges himself inside before you are given the chance to either prove or disprove him, a silent scream punched from your throat as his cock rams straight into your g-spot. He huffs a deep breath, barely keeping a groan bottled, when he feels your walls tighten around him. It’s suffocating. Wet, and tight—a little similar to what being stuck in that small space feels like for you, but infinitely more pleasurable for him.
"Mm, such a sloppy little cunt. Got yourself stuck in there for this, didn't ya?"
His fingers latch onto your hips, bruising you as his nails dig meanly into your skin. He drags his cock halfway out of your cunt only to snap his hips back in, picking up a pace that ramps up over time. His quick thrusts fuck you further into that hole, your tits bouncing and slapping against the hard wooden planks while your dress rides higher to expose your back.
Toji bends your body into an arch, a heavy palm situated on your stomach until you’re able to hold the position on your own.
“Like it when your husband fucks ya like a bitch?” He grunts, catching the hand that’s squirming on the grass beside him and twisting it behind your back. “Pounded in broad daylight f'everyone to see how dumb you get over my dick, huh?"
Your whimpers don’t go unnoticed by him. He laughs at the high pitch your voice has assumed, babbling his name an incomprehensible amount of times that exceeds the frequency with which his swollen cock head kisses your pulsing core. You can't think enough to reply, and you can't bring yourself to ask him to stop.
He smacks your ass loud enough for you to whine, alerting every last neighbor in the block to what is happening in their quaint suburban neighborhood. “Answer me.”
“Yes, Toji—fuck, love how big it feels.” Your thoughts stem from your pussy without being filtered by your brain. All your body knows is how badly it needs to be pushed over the edge, disregarding the scornful looks you’ll definitely be receiving at the next neighborhood watch assembly.
“That’s not what I asked.” Toji smacks your ass again, softer this time—or so it feels because of your numbing skin. “I asked, Who owns this pussy, mm?”
“That’s not what you asked at all!” Your talking back earns you a third spank. You realize you’ve got no agency of your own.
“Won’t ask again. Who. Owns. This. Pussy?” He punctuates each word with a thrust sharper than the one before, his cock twitching when he hears you screaming your answer at the top of your lungs.
“You do, T-Toji. My pussy is yours—ngh!”
“And who’s bitch are you, baby?”
“Your bitch!” You answer willingly, your mind clouded, and your logic dulled. “Fuck, Toji, you know I’m all yours.”
“Damn right, y’are.” He hums in response, hunching over your body to rub tight circles around your clit, jerking the nub up and down, round and round.
You’re almost there, and when he asks you whether you wanna be bred like one, the tension in your gut finally snaps, eyes involuntary crossing as white waves of pleasure overtake you.
He fucks you through your high at an animalistic pace, the thought of filling your belly with a baby that’s half his and half yours flooding his brain before your answer registers, his cum spilling deep within your pussy with a few sloppy pumps that squelch to the sound of your mixed fluids.
His moans mingle with yours, the rough sound of his voice raising goosebumps from where he kisses your back to the resounding ringing in your ears. He wraps his arms around you almost tenderly, peppering your back with kisses that almost convince you he’ll finally pull you out of that miserable hell hole but that’s not his intention. It never was.
A final smack meets with your ass right before he rolls his pants back up and walks toward the house, undisturbed by the screams that follow close on his trail.
“You said you’d get me out of here!” Your fist hits the ground, finges clenching around a tuft of grass blades that you violently root out.
“And you said you can get out whenever ya want. That you needed time for yourself, ‘member?”
“I didn’t mean that!” You object, your tone too squeaky to be taken seriously. “Toji, you’d better help me or else—”
“Or else what? KFC until I die?” He snorts. “Relax, I’ll come back before Megumi gets ‘ere.” You hear his phone buzzing as he—presumably—punches something in his search bar. Hot wings don’t sound too bad; he whispers for himself to hear, speaking up only when he asks you if you want him to order you a twister wrap or something before he closes his order.
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a/n: the episode excited me too much, apologies. i was gonna post this later asdfghjkl but toji is back and we cum.
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doubleca5t · 2 years
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Tbh i think my main concern if we start telling kids that they could change their gender at a young age it might just confuse them? Because i feel like a lot of kids have felt at some point where they wish to be the opposite gender because of small things like wanting to be able to play with girly/boyish toys or feeling that their sibling with the opposite gender is getting more attention than they are. Children rarely knows what they want for sure and I don't think they should be given the opportunity to go through things such as transitioning since it would leave permanent effects and they might change their minds in the future (im aware that transitioning doesn't always mean taking hormones, but there has been more cases recently where parents are giving younger kids hormones and I don't want the number to increase). Idk would love to hear your opinion on this though.
This is actually a very good question because I think this is a common concern for people not super involved in trans circles.
The short answer is that there is a framework already in place for transition under the age of 18 that is designed to have limited to no permanent impacts on someone who decides to stop treatment after medically transitioning as a child. The way it works (at least in the U.S. which is what I'm familiar with) is that if you are in a state that allows children to medically transition (should be every state but that's a separate issue) there are essentially three sets of rules based on the age of the person trying to transition:
Before puberty there are no options for medical transition. If a little kid wants to wear different clothes and go by a new name and pronouns they can do that, but they're not getting prescribed anything until later.
Starting around their teen years, trans youth can be prescribed a type of medication called a puberty blocker, but still can't receive hormone replacement therapy or any kind of gender affirming surgery. Puberty blockers, the most popular of which is Lupron, are a class of medications that, when taken by a pubescent child, halt the onset of puberty. In case you don't know, the way that hormone replacement therapy works is that it's essentially a way of medically enducing a male or female puberty. Transmascs take testosterone shots which gives them more body hair, a deeper voice, and a more masculine fat distribution, while transfems take estrogen, which gives them less body hair, some breast growth, softer skin and a more feminine fat distribution.
Lupron does not have these effects. Instead of giving trans kids the puberty of their desired gender, it just stops them from experiencing the puberty of the gender they were assigned at birth. This allows their body to go either way depending on their next steps: they can either stop taking blockers and go through their AGAB puberty, albiet a little late, or switch to HRT when they turn 18 and go through their desired puberty. This gives trans teens time to think it over before they commit to a course of treatment that might have longer lasting effects (though even the effects of hormones wear off to an extent if you stop taking them like maybe I'd keep my boobs if I went off e and spiro but the rest would probably revert back to how I was when I was a man).
There's a lot of scaremongering about Lupron but the funny thing is, it's already prescribed to a lot of cis children and no one bats an eye at that. Lupron is also used as a treatment for "precocious puberty" which is when a child goes through puberty before they're supposed to, which can have some negative side effects. Lupron has been used to treat this for a while now, and while transphobes will tell you it's some sort of dangerous experimental drug with terrible side effects, the serious side effects are no more common than in any other medication we give to teens (which is to say, pretty rare), and no one was putting up a stink about it when we were giving it to cis kids. GEE I WONDER WHY 🤔🤔🤔
Once a teenager reaches adulthood, the full range of options becomes available to them in terms of trans healthcare so long as they meet the requisite psychological and social requirements.
Now there have been cases of teenagers receiving treatment that is, for lack of a better term, ahead of schedule, but these are pretty rare and tend to receive outsize attention because conservatives use them as anecdotes. It's like how, in the 90s, conservatives would point to some horrible murderer and argue that we need more policing and harsher sentences to stop people like that, when in reality, the biggest impact of those policies was that people who committed relatively minor offenses (or in some cases NO offenses) receive extremely harsh punishments. They're cherry picking corner cases and arguing that the whole system needs to be made harsher and more unforgiving to prevent a handful of instances where it failed.
But you know what IS really common? trans teens being *denied* care for arbitrary or outright bigoted reasons. Trans healthcare isn't too permissive in providing treatment to young people, it's the exact opposite: it's too restrictive. That's the real problem with trans healthcare for teens, and that's what people should be concerned about.
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what-eats-owls · 1 year
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a point about the IA situation that I cannot make on twitter without death threats
Like many authors, I have complicated feelings about the IA lawsuit. IA has a whole raft of incredibly invaluable services, that's not in dispute. The current eBook licensing structure is also clearly not sustainable. Neither was IA's National Emergency Library, which was unrestricted lending of unlicensed digital copies. There are some thoughtful posts about how their argument to authors, "you'll be paid in exposure," is not especially compelling.
But I'm not here to discuss that; I'm here to talk about the licensing. TL;DR I don't want my work being fed into an AI or put on the blockchain, and to enforce that, you need a license.
So, here's the thing. IA's argument for the NEL boils down to "if we possess a physical copy of the book we should be able to do what we want" and that's frankly unserious. (Compare: Crypto Bros who thought spending $3 million on a single copy of a Dune artbook meant they owned the copyright.) Their claim is that by scanning a physical copy of the book and compiling the scans into a digital edition, that is sufficiently transformative to be considered fair use.
What that gives them is something that functions almost identically to an eBook, without the limitations (or financial obligations) of an eBook license. And I'm sure some of you are thinking, "so what, you lose six cents, get over yourself," but this isn't actually about the money. It's about what they can do with the scans.
A license grants them the right to use the work in specific, limited ways. It also bars them from using it in ways that aren't prescribed.
For example, what if IA decides to expand their current blockchain projects and commit their scanned book collections to the blockchain "for preservation"? Or what if IA decides to let AI scrapers train on the scanned text? One of their archivists sees AI art as a "toy" and "fears [AI art] will be scorned by the industry's gatekeeping types."
Bluntly, an unlicensed, unrestricted collection seems to be what they're gunning for. (Wonky but informative thread from a lawyer with a focus on IP; this cuts to the pertinent part, but the whole thing's good reading.) The Authors Guild is in no way unbiased here, but in the fifth paragraph of this press release, they claim that they offered to help IA work out a licensing agreement back in 2017, and got stonewalled. (They also repeat this claim on Twitter here.)
At the end of the day, I don't want the IA to fold; I don't think anyone does. As a matter of fact, I'd be open to offering them an extremely cheap license for Controlled Digital Lending. (And revamping eBook library licensing while we're at it.) I think there's a lot of opportunity for everyone to win there. But IA needs to recognize that licenses exist for a reason, not just as a cash grab, and authors have the right to say how their work is used, just like any artist.
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txttletale · 10 months
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i do think the supreme court is very funny because liberal hegemony exerts tremendous ideological pressure to frame all political struggle outside its narrowly prescribed limits illegitimate and impossible but then when liberals want to effect (liberal!) change firmly within those limits they also just simply can't. like the crushing force of ideological domination telling everyone 'you can only do what's possible within the framework of the US bourgeois republic' all the time and then when someone who has fully bought into that framing is like 'well what if we packed the court that's literally fully within all the laws and framework of the capitalist liberal order' theyre like 'lol lmao fuck no' like you gotta laugh
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zerosuitsammi3 · 1 year
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For those unaware of what's happening in Missouri: The Attorney General, Andrew Bailey, has enacted an "emergency regulation" placing limitations on gender affirming health care for trans youth and adults requiring 15 one hour therapy sessions over 18 months for puberty blockers, 3 years for hormone therapy, and up to in some cases 9 years of documented therapy for trans gender individuals to receive hormone replacement therapy and other gender affirming treatments. In addition doctors are required to screen trans patients for autism and depression, if diagnosed with either they can be refused gender affirming care. Andrew Bailey enacted this emergency order under the Missouri Merchandising Protections Act, far over reaching the legal scope of the act, due to a claim that a St. Louis transgender clinic was prescribing "experimental drugs to kids without parental consent." These claims are untrue and are currently under investigation. Andrew Bailey's website now has a tip line to report trans affirming health clinics for “reports of questionable gender transition interventions.”
This is what trans genocide looks like in Missouri.
If you would like to fill Adrew Bailey's tip line with complaints about his actions the website is as follows.
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kitkatscabinet · 7 months
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Whumptober - 03 Withdrawals
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Simon Riley x gn! reader
Warnings: mentions of substance abuse, opiate withdrawals, vomit
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Simon was concerned, he'd been concerned since the bullet tore through the meat of your thigh. He’d been the one to pull you to cover, it had been his hands staunching the blood flow and it had been him you’d leaned on during physical therapy.
Even when the medics had prescribed opiates for the pain. He’d swallowed his discomfort attempting to keep a close watch over you and your usage. You’d seemed fine, seemingly as off-put as him by having to rely on such addictive substances in order to stave off the pain. 
You’d seemed fine. 
Your recovery was going well, the doctors, physical therapists and psychologist had all seemed optimistic that you’d be field-ready in near record time. 
You’d seemed fine. 
How had he failed to notice? He’d seen it before in his father, in Tommy. In hindsight, all the signs had been there. You’d tired more easily, were calmer - lethargic even and your attention span was even shorter than usual. You’d waved it off as the effects of vigorously throwing yourself in training, wanting to get back to your peak physical form. 
Simon had ignored the signs, desperately not wanting to admit that another one of his loved ones had succumbed to the addictive effects of prescription drugs. He’d ignored the signs until it was too late, until he’d found you slumped over in a hallway shivering and covered in sweat. You don’t even notice his presence, not even when he hauls you into his arms and starts running down the hallway all the while trying to shake you back into consciousness. 
It’s not until he deposits you under the cold spray of a shower that you start to stir, moaning in confusion as you attempt to orient yourself. You try to move but Simon has you locked against his chest, his arms the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto the tiles. 
“Wha?” you slur, blinking lethargically as you struggle to keep your eyes open. Vaguely you recognise the voice of the person holding you, but you struggle to make out any of his words. Your head is so heavy, chin resting against your chest, giving you a close-up view of a familiar tattooed arm. “Simon?” 
The man grunts his affirmation, one hand moving to sweep the hair from your face. You don’t get to appreciate the gesture for very long before you’re slumping to the side as far as you can within the confines of his arms and emptying the limited contents of your stomach. It burns your oesophagus, choking you as you attempt to breathe through the bile. Tears spill from your eyes from the pain and embarrassment. 
Simon doesn’t comment on it though, simply continuing to hold you up and whisper words of encouragement. You’re uncertain as to how long you stay under the cold spray but at some point, you close your eyes only to wake up in another room, a towel around your shoulders as Simon attempts to dry you off. 
“You need to get out of these clothes love, can you do that?” Giving it a few seconds of thought you nod, waiting for Simon to reluctantly turn around. It’s a struggle but you manage to wriggle out of your wet shirt and dry your torso enough to slip on the shirt Simon had laid out next to you. It’s a long and tiring process and more than once you’d had to reassure Simon you were still ok. 
Though you were quickly forced to admit that you needed help, all of your muscles shaking uncontrollably. “Si, I need help” you quietly admitted. Turning your head to the side in shame, closing your eyes so wouldn’t see his disappointment. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Simon is infinitely respectful, averting his eyes to maintain as much of your modesty as possible. 
His touch is gentle, though every slight brush of fingers on your skin burned. He continues to act in silence, bundling you up in what you now recognise as his blanket. It’s enough that the dam finally breaks and you start sobbing earnestly, chest heaving for air as you lay shivering in his bed. 
“‘M sorry.” You moan unable to articulate your shame in any other way as you continue to apologise over and over. Simon doesn’t offer a verbal reply but he does take a place by your side, smoothing his hand through your wet hair. 
Time becomes meaningless after that and all you know is misery. Your body fluctuates rapidly between hot and cold flushes that have you attempting to escape from the cocoon Simon has you trapped in. Yet the hulking abomination won’t let you move, even as you snap and scream at him. He’s not even phased by the intense nausea, placing a bucket beneath you just in time as your traitorous stomach continues to expel bile even when your stomach is beyond emptied. 
He wipes your sweat and hydrates you, taking your hurled abuse stoically, never once blaming you. He maintains his silent vigil, sacrificing his own sleep to watch over your own incredibly broken slumber. Much to your own horror he even escorts you to the bathroom, never more than a few feet away. It’s a new level of mortifying, the entire experience frays your nerves down to nothing. Yet no matter what you throw at him, Simon stays. 
“Why are you helping me? You should’ve handed me off to the med bay. ‘Ts not your job to clean up my fuck ups” you whisper. The question comes a few days into the torture, you’ve regained some clarity but the hellish symptoms showed no sign of improving. A few minutes ago you’re pretty sure you’d even called him ‘fuckin cunt’ when he’d refused to give you any sort of medication. He pauses in his movement of using a wet cloth to wipe the sweat from your forehead, barely taking any time to think of a response. 
“Do I need a reason?” There’s a heaviness to his words that you don’t quite understand and he doesn’t elaborate. How could he explain to you, the sheer terror that had grasped his heart when he’d found you slumped over? The self-loathing he’d been battling since he’d come to terms with your affliction? 
“No… but I’d like one. I’m pretty sure I vomited on you a few times and you didn’t even complain. I’d have decked you for that.” It’s an attempt at a joke but it evidently doesn’t land, his hand stilling in its path as he seemed to have some kind of internal debate. 
“I care about you, that’s reason enough.” He offers no further elaboration and you sense that you’d already pushed far enough for the moment. 
“Well now I just feel like an arsehole” you mumbled, trying to lighten the mood. Luckily your remark gets a light chuckle from your brooding companion as silence descends once more. A wave of exhaustion suddenly hits you and for once you don’t fight its pull, though you vow the next time you wake to grill Simon even further. Before you fall asleep once more you manage to mutter, “I care enough about you that I’d let you vomit on me too.” 
The last thing you hear before the darkness overtakes you is a laugh, the first genuine laugh you’d heard from him in days. It’s a small victory but you take it, allowing yourself to finally feel just a little bit of hope.      
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luthienne · 4 months
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"On April 4, 1967, exactly one year before his assassination, the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. stepped up to the lectern at the Riverside Church in Manhattan. [...] Many of King’s strongest allies urged him to remain silent about the war or at least to soft-pedal any criticism. They knew that if he told the whole truth about the unjust and disastrous war he would be falsely labeled a Communist, suffer retaliation and severe backlash, alienate supporters and threaten the fragile progress of the civil rights movement.
King rejected all the well-meaning advice and said, 'I come to this magnificent house of worship tonight because my conscience leaves me no other choice. […] A time comes when silence is betrayal' and added, 'that time has come for us in relation to Vietnam.'
It was a lonely, moral stance. And it cost him. But it set an example of what is required of us if we are to honor our deepest values in times of crisis, even when silence would better serve our personal interests or the communities and causes we hold most dear. It’s what I think about when I go over the excuses and rationalizations that have kept me largely silent on one of the great moral challenges of our time: the crisis in Israel-Palestine.
I have not been alone. Until very recently, the entire Congress has remained mostly silent on the human rights nightmare that has unfolded in the occupied territories. Our elected representatives, who operate in a political environment where Israel's political lobby holds well-documented power, have consistently minimized and deflected criticism of the State of Israel, even as it has grown more emboldened in its occupation of Palestinian territory and adopted some practices reminiscent of apartheid in South Africa and Jim Crow segregation in the United States. [...]
Reading King’s speech at Riverside more than 50 years later, I am left with little doubt that his teachings and message require us to speak out passionately against the human rights crisis in Israel-Palestine, despite the risks and despite the complexity of the issues. King argued, when speaking of Vietnam, that even 'when the issues at hand seem as perplexing as they often do in the case of this dreadful conflict,' we must not be mesmerized by uncertainty. 'We must speak with all the humility that is appropriate to our limited vision, but we must speak.'
And so, if we are to honor King’s message and not merely the man, we must condemn Israel’s actions: unrelenting violations of international law, continued occupation of the West Bank, East Jerusalem, and Gaza, home demolitions and land confiscations. We must cry out at the treatment of Palestinians at checkpoints, the routine searches of their homes and restrictions on their movements, and the severely limited access to decent housing, schools, food, hospitals and water that many of them face.
We must not tolerate Israel’s refusal even to discuss the right of Palestinian refugees to return to their homes, as prescribed by United Nations resolutions, and we ought to question the U.S. government funds that have supported multiple hostilities and thousands of civilian casualties in Gaza, as well as the $38 billion the U.S. government has pledged in military support to Israel.
And finally, we must, with as much courage and conviction as we can muster, speak out against the system of legal discrimination that exists inside Israel, a system complete with, according to Adalah, the Legal Center for Arab Minority Rights in Israel, more than 50 laws that discriminate against Palestinians — such as the new nation-state law that says explicitly that only Jewish Israelis have the right of self-determination in Israel, ignoring the rights of the Arab minority that makes up 21 percent of the population. [...]
Indeed, King’s views may have evolved alongside many other spiritually grounded thinkers, like Rabbi Brian Walt, who has spoken publicly about the reasons that he abandoned his faith in what he viewed as political Zionism. To him, he recently explained to me, liberal Zionism meant that he believed in the creation of a Jewish state that would be a desperately needed safe haven and cultural center for Jewish people around the world, "a state that would reflect as well as honor the highest ideals of the Jewish tradition.” He said he grew up in South Africa in a family that shared those views and identified as a liberal Zionist, until his experiences in the occupied territories forever changed him.
During more than 20 visits to the West Bank and Gaza, he saw horrific human rights abuses, including Palestinian homes being bulldozed while people cried — children's toys strewn over one demolished site — and saw Palestinian lands being confiscated to make way for new illegal settlements subsidized by the Israeli government. He was forced to reckon with the reality that these demolitions, settlements and acts of violent dispossession were not rogue moves, but fully supported and enabled by the Israeli military. For him, the turning point was witnessing legalized discrimination against Palestinians — including streets for Jews only — which, he said, was worse in some ways than what he had witnessed as a boy in South Africa."
— Michelle Alexander, from her essay Time to Break the Silence on Palestine, as featured in the New York Times in 2019
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yandere-kokeshi · 5 months
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thank you for wishing me well regarding my chronic pain. may i request a könig or ghost headcanon or drabble of a gender neutral y/n with a shoulder pain kind of chronic pain? like, being unable to carry anything heavy, limited movements, and needing help with simple tasks as they heal? thank you in advance!
— Yandere Ghost and König with gn darling who has shoulder pain from chronic illness
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Warnings: yandere behavior, and talks about chronic illness.
A/N: I did both and headcanons! Hope that doesn’t make you upset. Enjoy <3!
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Simon “Ghost” Riley:
He takes your health very seriously– always reminding you to never overwork yourself, even if you feel obligated to finish a chore/or assignment that you know will leave you sore. And if you require help, you ask him, and he’ll do it.
To an extent, he understands your pain. But he knows he’s not you, and you aren’t him; plus, pain is much more than a 1-to-10 scale ratio. He may be used to it now, but he remembers the sleepless nights, sharp pain electrifying everywhere in your joints, dreams of imagination of being painless, and exhaustion that holds tight onto you. He knows how awful it is, and seeing you in pain makes him uncomfortable. 
With this said, Simon understands that all you need is care, love, and patience. Moving to-room-to-room could take so much out of you, even lifting a book has you gritting in pain, to which he takes care of you — easily taking it out of your hands. He often carries you, asking if you require anything else, and places you down wherever you like in the rooms. 
To no surprise, Simon knows how to deal with pain: bringing you pain meds prescribed by your doctors, surprising you with your favorite snacks, running you a bath with bath–salts, or even going out of his way to massage your swollen joints, but only if you want him to.
Having limited movement because of your own pain leaves Simon’s really close to you. He’s at your beck and call, never forcing you to move, always groaning as he gets up from the bed to retrieve your choice of hobby, gladly fixing the blankets around your body and making himself comfortable beside you again. His arms around you, tracing lines in your skin as he asks what you want to watch on TV. 
Simon does everything around the house for you without being asked. It’s how he shows his affection, other than being physically touchy, but he isn’t one for lovey-dovey words. Within the stance of you resting, you might have an ounce of guilt and try to help him — which he quickly refuses. 
About the third time you get up, despite his warnings, he’s carrying you back to bed, grouching that you need to rest, not worry about him, and that you deserve as much rest as possible. 
For the days when it’s hard to do self-care, he doesn’t judge and is more than happy to help you. Brushing your teeth for you in bed, gently changing your clothes, bringing in facial wipes, and ensuring you take your night meds; letting you lay on his chest, tracing the outline of your face, and giving himself a bit of a relief, as you’re slowly getting better.
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König:
Attentive to your needs, kissing the side of your head as he reminds you to take it easy. König is fretting over you, always checking in and hopes that if he makes you something, it’ll ease your pain. But it’s never that easy. He realizes that it isn’t enough, that it’s more than you just feeling bad. 
He’s babying you, and while he knows you’re capable of doing things, especially since you have had this forever, König would hate for you to extend your pain, or worse, have to go to the hospital due to a dislocation. 
Because of this, he carries a lot of things in the house — constantly saying ‘no’ when you’re about to grab the groceries, or helping out with the dishes. He focuses on doing the chores, multitasking on doing the laundry, and coming in every 15 minutes to check up on you. 
Chronic pain is difficult. He knows there’s medication, things that he will and can get for you to soothe the pain, but he doesn’t know the extent of your pain. So, when you express the burning sensation, or the pins-and-needles, he takes your words and works on making it decrease. König carries you, letting you lay on the freshly made bed, and asking what you want to do, as it’s a lazy-loving day for the two of you. 
He’s constantly around you — gifting you things, your favorite foods, drinks, or whatever you feel at the moment. He’s always bringing you fresh-washed blankets, ducking them in tightly and kissing your forehead before sitting right next to you, hand on your thigh. 
When the days of not feeling good, and you can’t leave the bed with how sore you are, he’s there, hand-feeding you soups, and praising you on how well you’re doing. He’s carrying you to the bath, starting the water to a nice temperature and having you strip; turning around for privacy before helping you in when you’re ready. König, of course, helps with washing your body and hair, kissing your skin gently as he asks what you want for dinner. 
König lets you know that it’s okay, and you’re okay. He’s coddling you, always by your side and on your side, letting you lay in bed, and helping you stretch in order to regain a bit of flexibility. He knows it hurts, he sees your barely-down-to-tears, but this is necessary and he’s sorry.  
Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!
© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.
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