#How to get reliable news source?

[vensa10]

How to get reliable news source?

Getting reliable news in today's information landscape can be challenging, but there are several strategies you can employ to ensure the accuracy and trustworthiness of the sources you rely on. First, diversify your news sources. Avoid relying solely on one outlet, as different sources may have biases or limitations. Instead, consume news from a variety of sources across the political spectrum to gain a more balanced perspective.

Second, prioritize reputable sources with a track record of accuracy and journalistic integrity. Look for established newspapers, magazines, and news websites that adhere to professional standards and ethics. Check if the outlet has a transparent correction policy and if it employs experienced journalists with expertise in the relevant subject matter.

Third, verify information before sharing or believing it. Cross-check facts with multiple sources to confirm their accuracy, especially for sensational or controversial stories. Be wary of clickbait headlines or articles that lack credible sources or evidence to support their claims.

Lastly, consider the context and biases of the news sources you consume. No outlet is completely objective, so it's essential to understand their perspective and potential biases. By critically evaluating the news you encounter and seeking out diverse perspectives, you can become a more informed and discerning consumer of information.

[gingerswagfreckles]

Well they caught him. If he wasn't the exact kind of person tumblr loves, the conspiracy theories about this being a random person being framed would have continued to spread. But he's an attractive 26 year old white man who was caught carrying a manifesto about corporate America and has an internet history that matches up with tumblr's general politics. So everyone is going to get excited about how he's a martyr and go back to acknowledging reality in that there isn't a conspiracy to frame the wrong guy.

The discussions over whether or not this man should be lionized as a hero are honestly not as relevant as the comfort with which people are going to drop the conspiracy theory they would have been fully committed to if this man's politics turned out to be nuts. The ease with which the userbase of this website switches between realities based on whether or not they confirm their biases is really alarming. I just hope people understand how weird it is to claim a random person is 100% going to be framed by the FBI on one day, and then drop that by the next day when it becomes clear that the person being "framed" is the exact kind of communist you had hoped.

[pretend-pretend-vampire]

I NEED TO WRITE MORE GORE!!!

[thebraxiatelcollection]

+

[chaoticlandworlder]

Ngl the liam lawson hate is getting real tiring

[calico-kiwi]

WE’RE SO BACK (<- finally re-found the spark that fuels them from a creative/serotonin perspective after months of it fleetingly flickering in and out)

[greaseonmymouth]

kind of hate that I see in the news that Biden pulled out of the election and my first thought was “the tumblr haters got to him” but well, here we are

[arolesbianism]

The sadness and agony that emerges everytime I start a new oni save and am forced to remember what it's like to have a dupe without a hat only to put them in a hat because I think they'd look cute only to remember hats make half of them look bald but I spent this long maxing out a skill for them so Im too stubborn to back down and remove the hat

[grotesquevi]

★ cupid carries a gun.

open up your skull, i'll be there climbing up the walls.

cw # 18+ mdni, modern au, mentions of marijuana, dealer+loser!ellie, blink and you miss a slight pervert behavior, sub!reader, switch!slightdom ellie, pussyslapsyum, pet names, fingering, public sex.

an # if you recognize this it may be because it's from my previous account aka @vicorices who got deleted out of nowhere, this is me trying to get all my work back up again cause i'm not losing three months of work thanks to a shitty team who wiped me out of the internet.

the first time she saw you, she called you bro by accident.

it happens unexpected. ellie's been selling weed for a while now and she's used to get random text messages from unknown numbers: a friend of a friend, a recommendation from some old client — of course when she got your text you're not going to receive special treatment, not when she greets you like she would greet a guy, asking you where to meet since the club's big.

you're friends with cat, that's how you got her number. your usual provider is being insane with ridiculous prices you cannot afford not even by chance, so you're searching for someone else, a reliable source you can buy your weed from without getting into much trouble.

she’s perfect for the job.

it's a surprise either way when you tell her to meet you close to the main stairs in the first floor, and you think you saw her by the time you get there, but before you can approach your phone lights up with a new notification from an unknown number you now recognize.

you like it, making them think you’re a man, confuse the people you buy weed from. it's funny cause it's not the first time it happens, matter of fact, it's really common as you approach the auburn haired girl, noticing she's far less intimidating than your last seller, less tattoos on the face to instead, be covered in freckles and green eyes.

and to ellie — it's clear you aren't a bro too.

you don't pay much attention since it's a quick interaction, but to ellie its enough to make her spiral. too much weed, too much booze that night made her look at you like you're most beautiful girl out there, barely illuminated by the sporadic lights that changes time to time as you approach to her in a nice top of a band she also hears.

"hey. sorry to make you wait" you're too kind to her rough heart, yet from up close she's able to look at your face properly: where the fuck did you know cat from? why she hadn't seen you before too? was she hiding you from her?

"ellie," she presents herself like you do and she's almost a little shy to ask you to walk with her to a less crowded space, cause it sounds different from when she usually asks, slapping herself mentally for being so lame when she meets a pretty girl in a situation like this: don't be a fucking pussy. "do you mind if we move to a quieter place?"

"no, no problem" you reply "i was going to ask you the same, actually. don't want to get kicked out from here."

and you must be really trustful person, cause ellie could be a bad person and you're following her willingly, entering a dirty, small bathroom only to lock the door beneath her not really knowing her true intentions. you know she's not going to do anything when she's nervously speaking to you as the space got way reduced.

"so, you're friends with cat" what's she even doing? trying to pull off some small talk she sucks for? either way your nodding as ellie gives you a small bag with an smiley face on it, letting you see the weed she's going to sell you out first — "you study here in this university?"

"yeah, it’s my last year" you say inspecting the weed with a pleased look, sure you're buying when you take a deep breath and it seems like actual weed and not a fucking rock so tight it seems it came in somebody's ass, good smell, some purple there between different shades of green "film school."

"sick," she looks at you for a moment since you're too busy looking at the product. under the white lights ellie can see the details on your face now, the small moles, the scars, things she wasn't aware of as she wasn't so close as she is now — "it's okay? you like it?"

“smells real good, my last supplier was pretty shit and always had the same strain" you find her concern cute, sure she must take pride in selling good stuff, maybe that's why cat shared her number so reluctant to it, you'd gatekeep a good dealer too.

“that’s lemon haze” ellie explains as a subtle layer of red spreads right over her nose, must be the weather inside the bathroom or something like that, but it's hot as she stares at your eyes and she's betting you must be thinking she's the weirdest girl in the planet. her flannel's too fucking tight, too thick. "it's a nice sativa, wont leave you stupid nor like a hungry animal."

girls like you may be out of her league, but even when ellie's brain saying the same, it does not matter when your fingers brush against hers and you're laughing at her bad joke, giggling like she's oh so funny and it's enough. it may be a tactic she's falling all the way in when saying a lower price than regular and your eyes widen cause you don't believe it: why would such a good quality be cheaper than the usual shit?

"you study in this university too?" you curiously ask as if you're trying to catch the trick, clever girl. she’s selling you cheaper to secure you.

"forensic science" you seemed a bit surprised by it since you didn't talk much to stem girls in general, being in two different fields: hot— "it’s my last year too."

"that sounds cool, never met someone who study that," you say as you're pulling out 20$ for at least 3 grams of top-graded-weed: she's fucking stupid for selling that quality for less than $30 "well nice to meet you ellie, if i don't get poisoned with your weed, you'll be definitely hearing more from me."

and she wants to say something flirty, something with her usual witty charm and her sarcastic replies she loves by heart, but instead of saying something clever, ellie ends up stuttering, tripping in her own words as she nods.

"i- uh- yes sure. save my contact and text me anytime."

fuck it, cause it does get her to know you'll be talking to her again someday, maybe this week, maybe the next, tomorrow. her weed is hella good and her own brain is feeding her delusions cause as far as she knows you might as well be the biggest heterosexual girl in university, but you're there waving her goodbye with a warm smile and your perfume lingers in the air for a while even when you're not there.

so ellie stays in the cubicle for a minute. the longest minute of her life when she takes a deep breath at the scent, discovering the fruity notes, the damn strawberries sweet as ever now impregnated under her nose.

fucking cat cause she must have kept you all to herself, pure selfish reasons — ellie thought they were in good terms.

it's crazy to say she would've done the same if you were her friend too.

the second time ellie sells you weed you're talking with your friends seated in a secluded spot of the main quad and the sun hits your skin just in the correct way to make her mouth go dry.

you're using this straight sinful sundress in blue and white, covering from the fresh air in a denim jacket and it looks so good she needs to check you actually messaged her in the first place and didn't imagined the whole thing.

she politely greets everyone but her attention drifts back to you when ellie's sitting close like you're friends with her before the people you’re hanging out with.

"was it good?" she asks, blatantly checking you out you're resting over your elbows, letting the exposed parts of your body fill out with vitamin d after being trapped in class for what it seems an eternity, and ellie feels trapped too, slightly different cause she's experiencing the victorian era on the flesh when only a glimpse of your ankles is enough to kill her — "guess it was if you're texting to meet up again."

"yeah, seems like you got the best weed in the whole place" you laugh, each time warming up to her as you reply under a pair of black shades that make you look so fucking attractive: her weed, the best. "good job, ellie."

awfully good price. outstanding for you, only loses for her.

the third time, you're meeting her outside class and her friends joke calling you her girlfriend as ellie quickly walks away hoping you didn't hear them: do you talk to her about dinosaurs too, williams? you're too polite to say you find it cute.

by the fifth time you're on her car and the silence is so damn loud as the music sound softly in the speakers, some song you say you like as ellie turns up the volume so you can hear it better. you're humming to the tune, a two-minute song as she pretends to be searching for the weed on her bag, taking more time on purpose.

"are you going to take the same three grams or you feel generous this time?"

"no, just three" you reply to her question. you've become quite aware of her consistent gaze on you now after weeks of selling you grass, personally giving you the best, making the moment linger without you noticing until you actually do catch on her subtle tactics— "that way i can text sooner and see you again this week."

ellie’s clueless most of the days but with that? anyone would notice you're flirting, blatantly as you look up to her and your dealer struggles to resist the need on her hands to pin you against the passenger seat and lean all over the console to go on and kiss you until you clearly state what you want. no playing around the bushes this time. demand, as her stomach turns, what do you mean by that.

do you want to see her more? that's why you buy three grams and talk to her every three or four days? are you, by any chance, not straight?

“if you want to see me during the week, you might just ask” ellie says mirroring your tone “like you ask to buy weed from me, s’not that hard.”

you’re the one who's nervous now, and she considers on giving you the weed as a gift before you’re paying. loses, you only mean loses in her economy at this point — and it's driving her hella mad when you get out the car and ellie’s left there with the need to have you as closer as you possibly agree to.

silk fabric slipping through her fingers.

the sixth time, ellie decides she's going to do something about it. about her needs. there’s no actual way you’re not flirting with her, the image of you in the passenger seat still sealed freshly on her mind even if it was a week ago, repeating it over and over again — you got her staring at your profile pic, debating if she can or cannot masturbate with the pictures you’ve shared on instagram from spring break in fucking california, liking your post cause it’s the only way she dares to interact, a way of saying she’s there.

in the middle of a saturday night, thinking about you. two in the morning and it’s all fucking you.

she should make up her mind. you’re a good buyer, and she wishes to keep it that way. you don’t ask for later payments, you constantly buy and don't share her number with weirdo friends like everyone else does, you're a reliable source surely: so why does her heart stops in her chest cavity when her phone's buzzing and ellie's reading the name she saved your contact with?

right. her pathetic crush on you.

her fingers move on their own before she considers to delay her response five minutes to seem busy.

she wont charge you double.

shit. it's two in the morning and she's selling you weed driven by the desire to see you again, using this gray hoodie to protects herself from the cold autumn breeze as she's pulling up to this party totally uninvited, passing the open door like it's her own house as zeta phi seems to be fully loaded now as the music sound loud and strident as all her hopes of catching you alone goes to the trash can.

no she’s not going to charge you double, she’s just guilty she’s so into you without you having any idea of it.

where you waiting for her arrival? fuck. her brain is acting up like a backstabbing bitch and ellie cannot help it as you appear radiant under a sea of people. you're not saying a word either when you're lacing your fingers with her's and you're pulling on your dealer upstairs, feet moving on their own as she don't make a single effort to resist your magnet-like influence in her very self.

ellie’s hand are sweaty cause she's so fucking nervous but you don't seem to care about it, looking back at her from over your shoulder only to offer a smile she cannot wrap her head around for a moment.

"can i ask where you're taking me?" she questions you, hoping her voice doesn't sound like that really, so strained and rough from just see you around — "or am i your hostage now?"

"we need a more private space to buy" you state like it's obvious "duh, the rooftop's empty. i stole the key."

ellie should've know you were a walking hazard.

cause it really seems like an achievement when you're opening the rooftop door, mischief grin as you look twice behind your back paranoid as ever someone can see what you're doing; and ellie chuckles at the sudden adventure, how you're closing the door when you invite her to step in with a subtle head movement, quickly shoving the key back to the pocket in your skirt.

cute. she thinks you’re cute.

it's empty like you said, and the knowledge makes every hair on her arms stand on their own even when she's wearing this thick hoodie that protects her from the cold.

"cannot risk my dealer of getting in trouble down there" you explain now that you can talk to her at a decent volume, and she fully eats it even when it's a clear lie and you're making up excuses to get her away from the noise.

"very kind, gonna name you my knight in shinning armor if you keep this up."

you're panting the spot right next to you as you take a seat in the over-used lounge chair with a tiny wooden table in front of it, and like a trained animal, ellie follows cause it's the perfect spot to leave her backpack as her brain keeps buzzing at the name you used to call her seconds before— my dealer.

she is, by all means, your dealer. it makes her chest fill out with a different kind of emotion, sound so fucking intimate, so nice.

"gonna buy the usual three grams, princess?" your knee brushes against her, and ellie's breathing hitches cause you're wearing this black-sheer stockings all the way to your upper thigh and she becomes aware of it when the material slips down as you're seated, skirt raising slightly upwards against the muscles of your legs: one movement and she swears she'd be able to see your underwear and ellie has to once again, remind herself how you quickly reduce her to this behavior; this state, shoved in a sea of pure filth — "or did you just call me because you wanted to see me tonight?"

she's feeling lucky tonight even when she never feels that way, a strike of confidence ellie feels as a rush on the blood: you give her a sight of your legs and now she's all over the damn place? loser behavior.

"is it that obvious?" you want her to kiss you. it's a need that installs deep down in your chest, and if you're not making it obvious by then you're definitely doing it now: you're not straight, you're not bulletproof to the holes her eyes make on your skin every time you have the pleasure to be left alone in her company, you're not giving up on this constant game of seduction you like to play "i'm buying weed too, so coming up here actually matters for you."

"haven't we state that already?" ellie asks, looking up to you as she drinks in the sight of you under the almost invisible light of the stars up in the sky "if you want to see me during the week-"

"might as well just ask" you completed for her as ellie grabs her bag so she can pull your weed from it. the best three grams she has in her power "i know that- thank you."

"it's a gift" she finally dares to say it now — "don't pay me this time."

has she ever felt this way before? never. the overwhelming pull, the reminder you're not her's? stings on ellie's skin like tiny needles. it's not a big deal, once again she's losing money all reckless, but fuck- it's worth it, worth it when ellie see you malfunction for a long moment, brain short-circuiting cause you don't expect it.

"that's not the deal."

"i don't care what our deal is, you're my best client, and i take care of my clients” it’s simple as she says it “sides. the weed does not matter, seeing you was payment already.”

"don't go yet," you add before she's making a movement to get up, hands cold wrapping around her arm as you pull her down to the lounge chair you're so comfortably seated — "smoke with me. let's talk for a while."

and she knows it's dangerous, but you're batting your eyelashes, looking at her with this sly smirk on your face she wants to kiss away and ellie has no option but to stay there buried in your side, your fingers still tight against her arm muscles as you make her stay.

"okay, but i need you to let go of me baby- i can't roll a joint with you all over."

liar.

she just want to see you get all flustered because of her as her fingers swiftly roll a joint without much effort, allowing the smoke to fill the air seconds after before you’re sneezing and she notices how you shiver on her side, turning her face to look back at your pretty face she’s been avoiding to stare so much.

"you cold?" she asks, and you do not want to admit it, but ellie's taking her hoodie off and it's a fucking sight when she's wearing this white tank top she does not care about until she can physically feel the shift of the air between you and her, caught up with your eyes checking her out as she lights up the joint.

"thank you," and for being a stoner, it's smells surprisingly nice as you relish on the warmth of it, comfortable now as you watch her smoke "i'll gave it to you downstairs."

"go home with it. you're going to catch a cold like this."

the silence it's imminent for a moment before she's passing you the joint an you're holding it between your fingers.

"i like your tattoo" is it also an excuse? not really, but ellie's bringing her arm closer to you as she's showing it under the flashlight of her phone cause she likes it too, showoff — "can i touch it?"

any other time she'd be denying it mumbling something stupid about hating random people to go on and touch her scarred arm but you're not a random girl. so she's whispering a barely audibly yes, and your fingertips are tracing the pattern etched on her skin, taking your time in doing so.

"it suits you," you praise as you touch, and she's fucking melting there under simple caresses, under something so simple as your fingers tracing her inked flesh, invisible shapes as you just want to keep your hand on her "did it hurt too much when you got it done?"

"yeah, sort of" it's not really like she's trying to sound cool, in all honest, she's just trying to be coherent now as you keep touching her skin as you smoke. invested in questions she's answering in full auto-pilot.

you're high after a while, and it's her weed that makes you look like that. half lidded, a lazy smile on your lips as you keep talking to her, red eyes, slower than ever: shit. she'd devour you all.

“have you ever shotgunned smoke into someone’s mouth?” you ask curiously, and the question comes out of nowhere as you stare at her blowing the smoke, a warmth creeping upon her neck as she notices the way you’re staring at her, ellie’s blushing.

selling you weed and not be able to get high with you every single time must be named one of the most horrible crimes in humanity.

“when i was like, 17?" ellie replies thinking for a moment "i dunno, thought it was the hottest thing ever- have you?”

“no, not really."

and to be fair, ellie's high too. she's testing a new strain with you and the words roll out of her tongue so easily she has no time to regret it, not when you're looking at her like you want her to get handsy there in a damn lounge chair, to hell if it’s in the middle of nowhere or not.

“want me to do it for you?” she asks, a gentleman as usual “i’ll gladly be the first.”

it takes a moment for you to consider it before your voice is all low and husky — "mhm."

“come here then miss,” ellie says using a finger to call you out, the joint already on her lips before she takes a long drag — “sit on my lap and open your mouth f’me.”

it's devastating.

your weight on top of her, your ass in her leg as she can see again, those transparent sheer stockings that must be damn useless against the cold, and her hand rest on your upper thigh there where she looked before.

you're so obedient. your skirt is a sinful invitation to touch further, and you're parting her mouth for her so she can get closer, and as she smokes, ellie does get closeto you. closer than she’s ever been — more than the car, the bathroom in the party she met you, mere inches before she's shotgunning the smoke in your parted lips and you're smoking from the same weed that was in her lungs.

"17-years-old ellie was right" you reply, not really moving to give her space as ellie's fingers squeeze your leg like a reminder you're there still, sated on your dealer's lap, her hands on you — "it is the hottest thing ever."

it's almost a chronicle of a death foretold, cause ellie's kiss does not surprise you at the slightest. it's demanding and sloppy cause she's high, you're high, and she's a victim of this force she cannot escape near you.

so she keeps on kissing you until your lips are swollen and you're simply there, slowly wanting more, squeezing your legs together cause you don't want to be a slut now — no. you don't want her to know you're soaking over a few kisses, at ellie's fingers pulling on your high stockings down till they are no longer there anymore.

"you're a fucking menace" she says between kisses, breathing heavier now by the seconds: ellie already noticed— "a menace to me, to my weed and my economy, you know that? how you make me sell out my stuff at half the price cause i want you as my secured client?"

despite her words, she's pushing you closer to her so you can feel her rib cage pressed against you, the goosebumps you produce just from being close to her, red lips and messy hair.

"it’s your loss ellie, cause i'd pay for the full price."

"mmhm well shit, you're really lucky cause you do give damn good kisses" she murmurs, fingers toying with the hem of your skirt now and she has the damn audacity to keep on smoking cause she's now confident on her effect, how you’re all affected by her touch — "and if you give damn good kisses, i'm betting all my money that you have an even better pussy for me."

the sounds you're making? fuck. she’s creaming her panties already when you're letting her touch you so freely and it’s not near enough.

"what is it going to be then, huh?" she asks curiously, her mouth already following the path down to your collarbone, your cleavage before she’s taking her time in leaving red-purplish hickeys there hidden beneath her own gray hoodie "should we make it to our seventh selling or you're going to let me play with your needy cunt as a much deserved reward?"

shit. shit. shit. you're so fucking wet when you're parting your legs further apart to give her a nice view of your underwear, a damp spot already there between your legs who’s enough to make her mouth water with the thought of burying her face between your thighs, intoxicate with the smell you're emanating and she feels already under her nose.

good fucking girl. she wants to praise you, let you know you're doing a great job there letting your skirt roll up to your stomach, so easy to get rid of it ellie's sure you did it on purpose now so she can let her hand slip between your legs to feel how soaked you are.

your cunt makes this sound when her finger’s taunting you she just happens to love, and your underwear clings to your pussy lips, hips buckling up to meet her fingers already wanting more.

greedy.

"shh-" she tries to reassure you — "you're comfortable there baby? want you to feel good when i touch you yeah? you'll let me know anything cause you're my well-behaved girl, aren't you? my best client here.”

ellie’s making you shake her head, coaxing you to say out loud you are comfortable there, ass in her lap, spread legs as her fingers push against the fabric right against your entrance, noticing how the cotton soaks at the motion.

"look at you all desperate" she chuckles — "have you been thinking about this a lot like i do?"

her fingers pull on your underwear to the side and there it is: glistening cunt, swollen lips and neglected clit that's just begging to be touched, filled, discovered by her hands, her mouth, tongue. nothing she fucking wants more.

who she is to ever deny anything to you? to stop selling you weed? the joint falls to the ground now as she's using her entire hand to touch you, fingers rubbing against your minor and mayor labia, circling against your engorged clit as you arch your back and she has to use force to keep you still, taking what she has to give like a champ.

"you're fucking soaked-" there's a slap sound that fills the air, and even when there's people in the garden they don't seem to hear your whimpers as her hand comes in contact with your pussy and she's slapping it once again, just enough to apply some pressure in your clit, just enough to make your legs shake "so responsive to me, gonna let me stuff this cunt full tonight? fucking finally huh? you've been haunting me like no one else."

and you giggle, giggle cause you cannot fucking believe it: fucking your dealer? are you so for real right now? you're deep under a cloud of haze you're unable to control, disheveled state when your skirt is all the way to up and your underwear being pulled to the side at her mercy and you can only answer:

"yes- ngh yes please ellie."

"shit- your clit is all puffy baby, all needy for me."

you're squeezing her already so hard when she’s working on you. a wet schlick that fills the air and combined with your incoherent words of praise and moans will send her to the grave.

ellie’s knuckles-deep and fuuuck. you're so tight she needs to ask if you're doing right, cunt engulfing her' fingers until there’s no more and she's curling them right to the spot so you don't care about the drunk fucks in the garden anymore, about anyone who can hear whats going on in an empty rooftop.

ellie’s using a hand to keep your legs spread when your free will collapses like paper cards, pulling them apart only to add a third finger in your used hole and reduce you to pieces now, clenching tight as she rubs on that special spot inside and you're mumbling something about feeling so full, so good with her inside.

"this pussy must be made for me baby, fits me like a fucking glove," ellie’s doubling her efforts, her palm colliding against your clit, fingers thrusting against the right spot over and over — "gonna let me see your pretty face when you cum? i know you're close."

you are. fuck you so are. your movements are erratic, your legs shake, and ellie's kissing on your shoulder, leaving a path of wet kisses on the exposed skin on your neck, biting on your earlobe, anywhere she can get.

"i can't-" you cry out, moving yourself in quick, sharp movements, it’s overwhelming — "fuck i can't hold no more-"

"let go" she replies, holding you tightly against her body — "let go. i got you."

it's hot. messes up ellie's jeans with a damp mark on them, turning the fabric darker when you finally cum and you're gushing on her fingers, leaking through trembling legs.

"fuck yes. drench me like that," your dealer moans, stealing a kiss from your parted lips, keeping the last glimpses of air in your lungs for her benefit "use me, baby, don't stop."

ah. ellie's in trouble after all, cause it don't seem she’ll be selling weed to you now. not when she's mixing business with pleasure and she's making you bend against the top rail of the old lounge chair cause she's not able to wait any longer to lick you clean until you have no other choice but to cum again.

truth be told she once heard cupid's cruel, but she didn't believe it fully, not until now since ellie knows, first hand — the little fucker shoots to kill.

[deviliciousnavy]

IMPORTANT NEWS FOR ALL THE MONKIE KID FANS

We got information from a reliable source about the show.

Apparently, while we all thought that s6 was taking their time to give us a better quality, Lego hasn't worked at all on it.

We've been quiet about it for far to long. If we want this show to survive we need to make our voices heard! Let them know that the fans WANT for this show to keep going. And we have ways to do it!

1) Start using #RenewMonkieKid

Let them know that we want a new season!!

2) Contact LEGO.

Go to Lego customer service > send a message > I need help with something else > My topic isn't listed And let them know how much you love the show, your concerns, and maybe about the struggles we have with acessibility! But remember, no spamming and no harassing. Being mean about it will get us nowhere.

3) Start creating!

Fanart, fanfics, animatics, and whatever you like!! Show them how much Monkie Kid has inspired us all!! And don't forget to use the #

4) Get the show known!

There are tons of content creators out there! We can get their attention (I repeat without harassing or spamming them) to the show, show them what they're missing out!!

if we want our favourite monkeys to succeed, we need to start being loud!!

[seilon]

in other news I took a risk and got medium-light wash jeans for the first time in many years and it feels really weird wearing them but i think they look pretty good

[genderqueerdykes]

if your primary source of information on transmascs is by anyone else but a transmasc, it's not a reliable resource. it's currently viewed as perfectly okay for everyone BUT transmascs to talk about our experience- and in fact, it's encouraged for people to listen to everyone but us, because according to other people we're unreliable narrators, we "skew the truth," we "lie", that transmascs "already have too much space and too many people talking about transmasc issues", and that testosterone turns us into "irrational monsters".

i get it: people's internalized misogyny makes them treat us like we're too stupid to relay our own lived experiences because we're just "dumb, confused women." we get it- your misogyny is palpable. it morphs into a new, heinous experience- transandrophobia- once people begin telling us testosterone makes us evil, antimasculism begins to bleed into the misogyny that built this experience and turns it into something even more insideous.

people will do everything in their power to listen to everyone else talk about our experience, but when it comes to us advocating for ourselves, that's not allowed. everyone wants to speak for us, to tell us what their perception on transmasculinity is based off of a few passing experiences with transmascs so they "know what it's all about".

please seek out transmasculine people to listen to about our lived experience. everyone who attempts to speak for us has an agenda. don't listen to anyone but the source. outside speculation has no place when it comes to discussing the transmasculine experience, especially when it comes to saving young transmascs from feeling lost and totally alone

no one can tell our stories but us. stop being okay with people who aren't transmasc spreading lies about what we live through. our experiences need to be heard. let us speak for ourselves. stop putting words in our mouths and telling US how we live our lives

[shadowfoxsilver]

Some quick tips to spotting accounts that are pretending to be a Palestinian needing mutual aid. Please keep in mind that not all of them are scam accounts, and that some may legitimate blogs who just aren’t too knowledgeable on how tumblr works. This guide is based around what I go by when checking certain blogs and usually it’s a quick giveaway the blog is a scam.

Please read this post too from my other blog before you tell people don’t donate to gfms:

1. You was sent the ask as someone who regularly shares Palestine related content such as regular news updates of posts by other Palestinians who are regularly giving updates. You may also get these asks from sharing a popular post that is from the Palestine tag. If you post often about Palestine, you will always start getting these asks. These askers don’t care if you state don’t send the asks. They will anyway. Unfortunately minors also get sent asks.

2. The ask has odd formatting such as having odd quotation marks in it or unusual formatting that may indicate it’s been edited and copied from somewhere else. Often the ask is the same thing as the post itself minus a link to a donation site. These asks rarely change so searching it should pull up if it’s been sent to other bloggers and sometimes the asks are edited only to add new phrases to them in time.

3. The account is almost always a few days old or a week old or long depending on how often they have sent asks. Usually some may even be an hour old and reusing a familiar pfp/ask.

4. The blog has a few Palestine related posts or posts from random tags reblogged to pad out length and then no more. They will have no original posts besides the pinned post while occasionally answering asks that they may have received but otherwise nothing else and no further updates given either.

5. They may have a Linktree link that is called “GoFundMe” as if indicating they have a GoFundMe there. However, they don’t. When clicked on, the Linktree actually goes to a PayPal account whose name may not even match the one their supposed name is. They’ll say it’s a friend, but it’s just the same person not someone else. You’ll see this same name across multiple accounts after a while usually giving away it’s not legitimate even under a different theme.

6. The text used by the blogs are often real stories stolen from legitimate fundraisers and searching parts of it in your preferred search engine should pull up the sources. These sources make no mention of a tumblr account either or don’t have the PayPal account associated with them in the info. Scammers often impersonate a real person in need and will ignore you if you show them the source they copied from.

7. Legitimate Palestinians often link to their own GoFundMe posts that their friends have set up or post links to other social platforms they are found on. They will regularly post updates when possible, post sources to support them when necessary, and also generally have some method of verifying their legitimacy. They may often share links to support others as well or give links to charities that have been shown as reliable. They will have more original posts than just a single pinned one and regularly speak to other tumblr accounts beyond just an ask. Please don’t bother them with asks about possible scam accounts. There are many guides out there that can do that for you if you search. You may find verified fundraisers too.

8. Scammers don’t know anything about Palestine and will often have trouble once you ask them anything beyond the mutual aid post. They don’t know the languages decently and you can tell it pretty easily if you’re one who uses it regularly. Whatever the scammers use is often just copied off the site they got the post from. Sometimes the text is just reused from past scams such as asking for insulin that doesn’t last long.

9. These scammers can and will use names stolen off real Palestinians to look more legitimate and trustworthy. They change names constantly once one of their PayPal accounts is shut down.

10. If you do see a GoFundMe link on a blog, don’t immediately assume it’s a scam just because it’s a relatively new account. Check the post notes to see if anyone’s verified the account yet or wait a bit as it takes time. You likely can search around to see if anyone’s posted anything where the blog has been vetted by others. You may also see if the GoFundMe is referred to on other socials or on lists that compile verified and vetted fundraisers.

Please don’t let these scams deter you from sending support where it needs to go. Even if you can’t donate personally, there are other ways to help. If you are sending money, please make sure that it’s going to where it’s needed and the place it’s sent has been verified accordingly. If you find a blog is a scammer, and have been able to prove it, please make sure to alert anyone sharing the post and report the account.

[astroxrion]

Your Soulmate based on your 7th house sign :

Aries 7th House

Your soulmate is bold, direct, passionate. They challenge you, push you, never let you coast. You grow through tension and fire. They force you to stop people pleasing and start owning what you want. Their love feels like adrenaline and demands presence.

Taurus 7th House

Your soulmate is steady, sensual, grounded. They create safety without smothering you. Loyal to the bone but won't let you slack. They teach you to slow down and build. They crave peace but will fight for what's real. Their love looks like consistency not chaos.

Gemini 7th House

Your soulmate is sharp, quick, endlessly curious. They want conversation as foreplay and ideas as intimacy. They keep your mind turned on and your world moving. They'll test your logic and stretch your vision. Boredom dies in their presence. They keep you learning.

Cancer 7th House

Your soulmate is nurturing, soft but deeply loyal. They are home in human form. They remember the details no one else sees. You feel emotionally safe without losing your edge. They help you forgive yourself. Their love is warm meals, deep talks and emotional truth.

Leo 7th House

Your soulmate is magnetic, expressive and dramatic in the best way. They show you how to take up space and own your light. They'll want to be seen with you and celebrate you hard. Their love is public, proud, and impossible to miss. You rise together.

Leo 7th House

Your soulmate is magnetic, expressive, a natural light. They love you out loud and expect you to show up fully. They mirror your greatness back to you. They protect you with pride. Their presence forces you to stop hiding and own your brilliance without fear.

Virgo 7th House

Your soulmate is detail-oriented, devoted, and observant. They bring order where you spiral. Their love is in the little things they fix without asking. They hold you accountable with compassion. They see your mess and still choose you every day with precision.

Libra 7th House

Your soulmate is graceful, charming, emotionally intelligent. They bring balance to your chaos. They challenge you to grow without controlling you. Their love is soft power. They teach you that peace is not weakness but a strategy for real connection and success.

Scorpio 7th House

Your soulmate is intense, emotionally fearless, and transforming. They look at your shadows and do not blink. They pull the real you out from the depths. They crave truth not performance. Their love breaks you open and rebuilds you whole without apology.

Sagittarius 7th House

Your soulmate is wild-minded, open-hearted, and freedom-focused. They push you into new experiences. They will not cage you and will not be caged. They teach you to expand emotionally. Their love feels like a passport and a mirror at the same time.

Capricorn 7th House

Your soulmate is ambitious, reliable, and emotionally composed. They build with you not just love you. They plan your legacy while holding your hand. Their love is a structure you can lean on. They don't waste time. They're here to stay and elevate.

Aquarius 7th House

Your soulmate is unconventional, future-focused, mentally electric. They're not soft but they're loyal in their own way. They give you space but stay connected. Their love is different but real. They challenge you to see love as evolution not ownership.

Pisces 7th House

Your soulmate is intuitive, dreamy, emotionally rich. They feel like déjà vu and destiny in one body. They heal you without trying. Their love flows like art and prayer. They're soft but deep. They remind you that love is spirit choosing spirit.

Get an Astrology Reading With me : https://www.tumblr.com/astroxrion/784631769533136896/o-my-readings-the-rion-code-o?source=share

[carlossainzlusciouslocks]

It’s you.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: You yell at a stranger at a party. That stranger happens to be Formula One driver, Lando Norris.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Possible angst (not really though!), swearing

Note: No use of Y/N or any pronouns for the reader.

This was based on the poll I posted a few days ago!

This fic was not supposed to be this long. I got a bit carried away when writing but I hope you all enjoy reading it! As always, I would appreciate any comments, criticisms or suggestions for new fics! And I apologise for any mistakes in the fic.

Lando Norris. The man that was currently all over the media.

Lando Norris. The man who, at 25 years old, has announced that he is retiring from Formula One after the 2025 season.

According to the ever reliable source of Sky F1’s David Croft (aka Crofty) Lando was leaving F1 due to the mass amount of hate he was receiving from fans as well as the overwhelming amount of harassment he was also receiving from the media.

Now, you didn’t actually know Lando Norris but it felt like you did with how much your coworker, Julian, talked about him.

"Ahh you just don’t understand! He is amazing. He is definitely a future world champion. I don’t understand why he would give it all up!" Julian would say.

Thanks to Julian you know Lando’s birthday, when his F1 debut was and the fact that he was in a drivers championship battle against Max Verstappen in the 2024 F1 season.

Which is why when the marketing firm you worked for was asked by Formula One driver Charles Leclerc to help with the launch of his new ice cream brand, LEC, Julian jumped at the opportunity to work with said driver, in the hopes of getting in contact with Lando. Julian was convinced that if he met Lando, he could convince him not to leave Formula One. You weren’t so sure.

"No! No! Absolutely not! Julian I’m not going. Please don’t make me." You said, turning your back to Julian in hopes of reinforcing your point.

"Oh come on! Lando Norris might be there! Lando mother fucking Norris. Please please please!" Julian pleaded, clasping his hands together in a prayer like motion.

"For the last time, I am NOT helping you with this launch event. I have so many things to do. I’ve got clients that are coming in for a meeting on Monday and I have no idea what I’m going to pitch to them." you say, a sense of finality in your voice.

"It’s Friday! Loosen up! You’ve got the whole weekend to think of something. Come on! We have literally been invited to a Formula One driver’s brand launch event. Well, we weren’t ‘invited’ invited. We will be working but still!" Julian was practically begging you to help him at the launch event.

Just as you were about to decline once again, your boss, Sylvie’s voice rang out. "You will be helping Julian with the event. I sent you an email last week informing you of this". She gave you a very pointed look as she spoke, clearly leaving no room for discussion.

A full 26 hours later, the launch event was in full swing. Julian had booked out a club in Monaco for the launch. There was an ice cream bar full of Charles’ own ice cream brand. There was also a table full of toppings that people could put onto the ice cream, and, arguably the most important thing, there was also an open bar. The open bar meant that the launch, as the night progressed, turned into a full on party. People drunk on the dance floor and puking in the bathrooms.

As soon as you arrived you had immediately been accosted by some of your other colleagues. They dragged you around the entire party making you put out all of the metaphorical fires that they didn’t know how to deal with. After saving multiple celebrities from PR nightmare after PR nightmare, you finally managed to escape the clutches of your coworkers. You set out to find Julian, who personally introduced to Charles Leclerc and his girlfriend, Alexandra, as well as a handful of other people who’s names you didn’t care to remember.

An hour, and about a million alcoholic drinks later, you started to get sick of listening to Julian point out famous celebrities and decided that you needed some air. Desperately.

You quickly went in search of a balcony or a window, just something that would separate you and Julian freaking out over the famous people you were surrounded by. This was not as easy task due to how much champagne you had consumed throughout the evening in an attempt to make Julian’s fangirling a bit more bearable. Eventually, you stumbled across a balcony. One that overlooked over the Monaco skyline. You stumbled out onto the balcony but instead of the peaceful, and much welcomed, alone time you were expecting to get, you saw another person stood there. Another person who had a somewhat recognisable physique. But the alcohol you had consumed left you completely puzzled as to why you recognised this person. It’s not like you knew anyone famous enough to be invited to this brand-launch-turned-party.

"Oh sorry. I didn’t know anyone else was out here" You rushed to say, averting your eyes. You turned to leave but the stranger’s voice stops you from doing so.

"You can stay. I mean, if you want." The man rushed to say. He turned his head slightly in your direction. Only enough for you to see the outline of his side profile against the glorious night sky.

"Thank you" you said in an almost whisper. You made your way over to the railing of the balcony and leaned your forearms onto it, looking out over the city.

After a few minutes of quiet, you feel the skin on your face start to tingle. You turn your head slightly and find the man’s eyes glued to your face. You turn your head more towards the man, hoping you would be able to see his face more clearly and figure out who he was.

Oh.

Oh.

It was him.

Lando Norris.

He catches your eye and you quickly turn your head back so you were looking out at the city once again, knowing he had just caught you staring at him. You hear a deep chuckle from the man beside you. You feel him move closer to you. Slightly.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here all alone?”

He was flirting. He hadn’t even seen your face properly and he was flirting. Badly. But still, flirting nonetheless. You weren’t going to lie, it did boost your ego just a little to know that a Formula One driver was willing to flirt with you. But it did make you think that these F1 drivers will flirt with anything that looked at them for long enough.

“Wow! Smooth.” You said sarcastically. Cautiously.

“Shut up.” He joked.

“I just needed some air.” You answered.

He hummed softly.

“The party is good. Busy. The music is good too. I would have been a much better DJ though” You both laughed. The two of you spent the next 5, or so, minutes talking. Neither of you failing to make the other laugh. Both of you inching closer and closer together the more you spoke.

You thought back to what Julian had said to you about Lando. ‘He is definitely a future world champion. I don’t understand why he would give it all up!’ The alcohol in your system had clouded your judgement. You felt as though you had to ask.

"Can I ask you a question?" You blurted out just as he was about to speak again. He was probably about to make some flirty, jokey comment about how you should go home with him.

"Oh. Of course. Yeah. Sure" he said, taking a step away from you, picking up on the change in tone of your voice. He was clearly expecting you to disappoint him by asking for a photo or signature or something he didn’t have the energy to give. Both of your faces turned to, once again, look over the Monegasque skyline.

You clear your throat. "What do you want?"

"Excuse me?" He asked, obviously taken aback by your question.

"You heard me. What do you want?" You repeated.

"Oh… Ermmm. I- ermmm" He said. Unable to form a clear sentence, a clear train of thought.

"Do you want people to take pity on you, beg you to stay? Do you want people to feel bad for how they treated you, how the media treated you, how ‘fans’ treated you? Because they won’t. You have to be naive to think that they will."

His brows furrowed at this.

"Do you want to throw away an entire career just because the media has turned people against you? A career that you have worked so had to achieve. A career that your family worked so hard to help you get and excel in." You turned your whole body to face him now. He didn’t dare look at you.

"Are you just going to give up because it’s no longer fun? Because you are no longer a ‘fan favourite’? Because people, the media, the fans, everyone is ‘out to get you’? Is that what you are going to do with the rest of your life, give up when things get hard, when people turn against you?" Your voice was starting to get louder and louder the more you spoke. "What about the fans that love you? What about all of the people that you have inspired and are inspiring? What about the fans whose lives you have saved?" You couldn’t help yourself, you tried to stop yourself from saying all of these things but you just couldn’t. You wouldn’t dream of saying any of this sober. But right now you were anything but sober. Tonight, right now, was the only time you would ever see him and you felt like you should say something. Him leaving Formula One felt, to you, to everyone, like a rash decision, one that he was bound to regret once the season was over.

"You are acting like a Zayn Malik when you need to be acting like a Nico Rosberg." His eyebrows raised so high that it was almost comical. He was snapped him out of the shocked and, quite frankly, offended trance that he seemed to be in for the entirety of your speech.

"What? What does that even mean?" His voice going up an octave.

"What-I- what do you think it means?! It means that you are just leaving when you should be fighting to prove the people who are doubting you, the people who are sending you hate, wrong. And you do that by winning a world championship, which I know you are capable of winning. And if you still want to leave after that then you leave on a high. You leave on a win." You say, as though it was obvious.

"First of all, we don’t know each other, I quite literally don’t even know who you are, w- ah- are you an influencer or some shit? God I knew I shouldn’t have come tonight. " He said the last part under his breath.

"Look, I don’t know what makes you think you can go on a whole rant about my decision to leave F1. It is my decision, not yours, not anyone else’s, mine and mine alone so I think you just need to BACK OFF! I don’t know what makes you think you have the right to lecture me or make me feel bad about my choices. Secondly, that metaphor was completely lost on me and quite frankly kinda outdated. You saying that Zayn "just left" is undermining what he actually when through and what actually happened. That’s not even the point!" He shook his head.

"The point is, you need to mind your own and get the fuck out of other peoples business" With that he turned on his heel and disappeared back into the party.

The next few weeks were hectic for you at work. Once people were made aware of the success of Charles’ brand launch, more and more people, who had seen how well the brand launch went, had been wanting to get your companies help with their branding.

It all came to ahead when Julian came to your desk one morning and shoved his phone into your face. You took the phone from his hands and read the article he had pulled up.

‘Lando Norris not leaving Formula One next year’ the headline read.

"Can you believe it?! This is amazing! He has apparently made a statement on his Instagram saying that he has decided to stay in Formula One! I’m actually so happy! What do you think caused him to change his mind?"

"I don’t know" you said with a nervous laugh. It was all coming back to you now. Everything from that night at the party.

‘Do you want people to feel bad for how they treated you, how the media treated you, how ‘fans’ treated you? Because they won’t. You have to be naive to think that they will.’

You cringed as you remembered what you had said. In your defence you were incredibly drunk, don’t tell Julian or Sylvie. But that doesn’t still excuse what you did. You felt terrible for what you said to him, you really didn’t mean to say it. You really didn’t want to say it.

For the rest of the day you replayed your interaction with Lando over and over again in your head. Every time you thought of it, you felt guiltier and guiltier.

It only made you feel worse when a few days later a familiar face walked through the doors of your place of work.

"Bonjour. Welcome to MARKETING COMPANY NAME. Have you got an appointment?" You heard Gen, the receptionist, say.

You didn’t think much of this interaction. Clients come and go from the office all of the time.

"You do. That is amazing. What is your name?" You heard Gen ask.

"Lando Norris."

You froze.

No.

Please. No. This could not be happening.

"I’m actually here to see-"

You didn’t hear what name he said. You didn’t need to. You knew he was there for you. You kept facing your computer. You kept your back turned away from where he was stood. You prayed that he didn’t see you.

He did.

Of course he did.

He had spotted you as soon as he walked into the office.

You felt him tap your shoulder. Reluctantly, you turned around. He looked good. He looked different to how he looked at the party. He looked determined. Lighter. You, on the other hand, looked sheepish, embarrassed.

"Hello. Can I help you?" You said with as much confidence as you could muster.

"It’s you."

Shit.

"Erm- I- erm- I don’t know what you mean" your false confidence faltering.

"From the party. Charles Leclerc’s party."

Oh no. He was here to confront you.

You couldn’t have stood up from your chair fast enough.

"Oh god. I’m so sorry about that. Seriously, I was so drunk and I know that’s not a good enough reason but I-" He hugged you. You didn’t know what to do. Your hands hovered over his back. You were about to hug him back when you heard

"OH MY GOD. IS THAT LANDO NORRIS?!" Julian. Of course it was Julian.

Lando pulled away quicker than you thought was humanly possible.

"Could I talk to you. Somewhere more private?" Lando whispered. Your faces were still incredibly close to each other from the hug, noses almost touching.

"Yeah. Of course." You grabbed his arm and started pulling him towards your bosses office. She was in a meeting so you just let yourself in.

"I’m-"

"I just-" you both started speaking at the same time.

"No you go first" You said, ushering your hands forward.

"Okay. I just wanted to say thank you for yelling at me. You were right. I was letting what other people thought of me and what they said about me, cloud my judgement. I don’t know if you have seen it but I decided to stay in Formula One and you are the reason why I changed my mind. You really knocked some sense into me I guess" Lando looked bashfully at his feet.

"Oh… I wasn’t expecting that. I don’t really know what to say. Erm. Your welcome. I think?" Your brows furrowed in confusion.

"Wait how did you even find me?"

"Oh that. I asked Charles who planned the party and thought if I showed up at the marketing company he said was involved, I might see you. And I was right"

"Oh. I really don’t know what to make of that. This is all so weird. I thought you were here to yell at me." You said shaking your head in disbelief.

"Me? Yell at you? Never. There was another reason why I wanted to come here in person though." Lando said, a faint blush on his face.

"Oh" you enquired.

"Yeah. I was also wondering if I could get your phone number?"

"My phone number? Oh. Wait. Why? Oh my god are you going to sue me or something?! Oh god no please don’t. I literally don’t have any money. I’m literally poor as shit."

He laughed. Hard. Like a knee slapping-ly hard kind of laugh.

"Sue you? Why would I do that? I’m trying to ask you out!" Lando said, out of breath from laughing so much.

"What? Ask me out? But I yelled at you? We don’t even know each other. I could be a serial killer. We literally met at a party." You were seriously questioning if he had hit his head on the way to your office.

"Yeah but we’ll get to know each other. You haven’t answered my question. Can I have your phone number? You yelled at me so basically, you owe me." He said hopefully.

"Oh. Yeah of course" You fumbled to get your phone out of your pocket. You handed the phone over to him and watched him put his number into your phone. He then sent himself a text from your phone so that he could have your number too.

"Okay cool! I’ll call you.” He turned and started to walk away. He stopped suddenly and turned back to you

“Please don’t yell at me down the phone when I call" He joked, turning, once again, to walk out of your bosses office. Leaving you gobsmacked at his comment.

As you were walking back to your desk, you looked down at your phone, blush covering your face.

You sat back down at your desk feeling giddy. Just as you were about to log back into your computer, your phone lit up.

Lan🧡

Thank you.

You shook your head, feeling incredibly embarrassed. Shy. Just as you were about to put your phone down, another text came through.

Lan🧡

Btw you looked really pretty today 💕

[leneemusing]

MEDICAL THEMED PROMPTS ( pt. 1 )

THE PHYSICIAN / NURSE

❝ i know this hurts but i need you to breathe, we're almost done. ❞

❝ can you open your eyes for me? ❞

❝ how long have you been experiencing those symptoms? ❞

❝ i can't help you unless you tell me the truth. ❞

❝ i know you wanna get discharged and go home, but we have to keep you for observation just a little longer. ❞

❝ i know you're scared, but you're in the right place. we're gonna do everything we can to make you better. ❞

❝ next time, call your general practioner or come see us sooner. google is not a reliable source. ❞

❝ just a few more stitches and we're done. ❞

❝ does it hurt when i touch here? ❞

❝ we're gonna get you fixed up, i promise. ❞

❝ i'd appreciate it if you could sit still and let me work, please. ❞

❝ sorry, could you repeat that last part for me? ❞

❝ is there anybody we can call for you? ❞

❝ it'll be a long road to recovery, do you have anyone at home to help? ❞

❝ it's a sprain. we'll get you a brace. ❞

❝ it does look like it's fractured, we're gonna get some imaging, okay? ❞

❝ you wanna see your x-rays? ❞

❝ bad news is its broken. good news, it's a clean break. with proper care and some physical therapy to follow up, it should heal well. ❞

❝ so you are going to need surgery. ❞

❝ don't worry, it's noninvasive and outpatient. ❞

❝ it is an invasive surgery, but we have some of the finest surgeons on the case. ❞

❝ we're a teaching hospital, is it okay if i let some student doctors observe? ❞

❝ i'm actually new. this is my first day. ❞

❝ i've never done this procedure before—well, except on cadavers. ❞

❝ that was unprofessional, i apologize. ❞

❝ tell me what's going on today? ❞

❝ you wanna tell me how you managed to get a gunshot wound like this? ❞

❝ that is a nasty laceration, what happened? ❞

❝ you know your blood type? ❞

❝ i know you haven't had the best of luck before, but i'm a new face. fresh ears. i am listening, i promise. ❞

❝ i'm sorry you've had a bad experience. i promise i believe you. ❞

❝ any pre-existing conditions we should know about? ❞

❝ how many fingers am i holding up? ❞

❝ we're gonna need to draw some blood. ❞

❝ you're right. i should've listened. ❞

❝ you need to listen to what i'm saying. ❞

❝ i know it sounds really scary, but we see it all the time. ❞

❝ it's manageable and you'll be able to live with it. but you have to follow the treatment plan. ❞

❝ if you keep moving like that it's gonna hurt more. please sit still. ❞

THE PATIENT

❝ honestly it doesn't hurt that much. ❞

❝ uhhh...that's not? normal, right...? ❞

❝ i'm sorry you said i'm gonna have to do what? ❞

❝ sorry, uh. could you repeat that? i'm nervous i wasn't really listening. ❞

❝ i hope it's not cancer. ❞

❝ well doctors do make the worst patients, what can i say. ❞

❝ could you just hold my hand for a second? ❞

❝ there's no one. it's just me. ❞

❝ shit—yeah, that hurts. that really hurts. ❞

❝ can i get outta here any time soon? ❞

❝ you look kinda young to be a doctor. ❞

❝ i thought i was fine but it just kept getting worse. ❞

❝ could i get something for the pain? ❞

❝ no—no drugs. please. ❞

❝ you're telling me it's 'just stress'? what's that supposed to even mean? ❞

❝ no one ever believes me. they think i'm exaggerating. i'm not making this up! ❞

❝ i just feel like i can't breathe. ❞

❝ that's a lot of blood... ❞

❝ how long is that supposed to take? ❞

❝ i'm scared of needles. ❞

❝ am i gonna be okay? ❞

❝ i-i'm so stupid. i should've been more careful. ❞

❝ do i really have to wear those gowns...? ❞

❝ what? what does that mean? ❞

❝ could you explain that again? ❞

❝ i'm having another episode. ❞

❝ i feel like i might pass out... ❞

❝ kinda wish i didn't have to be discharged. feels safer here than out there. ❞

❝ well aren't you doctor cutie? ❞

❝ have you ever done this before? ❞

❝ my veins are kinda tricky, try my left arm. ❞

❝ thank you. i mean it. ❞

❝ sorry i'm not trying to take it out on you i'm just really stressed. ❞

❝ i kinda hate hospitals. ❞

❝ don't come near me. ❞

❝ don't touch me! ❞

❝ that wasn't so bad. ❞

❝ there's air bubbles in my iv. ❞

❝ i don't mean to be difficult, it's just my condition is kinda particular and only my gp knows the details. i have this folder here that explains everything. ❞

❝ don't look at me like that. i know my own body. ❞