#and i have basic programming abilities

[shopwitchvamp]

Can't stop thinking about wanting to make a video game :[ Don't know how to make a video game :[[ Could I find the time and strength needed to learn? Perhaps. But something will have to give in return :\

[squirreltastrophe]

some little lighting tests that are kinda messy but I liked them enough to post :] wanna really focus on getting better at colors n such!!!!!!

(more coming soon probably hehe)

[moldwood]

a little more blender tutorial before bed. pshoooo

[vamptastic]

honestly maybe it's bc i'm from a small town in florida where we didn't have a lot of covid cases until spring break hit, and also florida just... never really enforced a lockdown but every time i see a post talking about the Youth Of Today were all extremely damaged by lockdowns its like??? i think maybe ppl just haven't been around a lot of kids but working at summer camp before and after lockdowns the kids (5-13) seem fine & their behavior is the same. i was a freshman in high school when covid hit and certainly some people had a rough time mental health wise and i had friends i didn't see for years bc they were immunocompromised and had to switch to florida virtual bc schools here just stopped offering online school. like, it sucked, it still sucks, it was definitely a disruption. I'm just really not seeing any visible kind of developmental or behavioral issues in young children, anecdotally. Especially not to the extreme level suggested in some posts

[autism-corner]

=w=b

[dravidious]

Oh fuck yes we're in business now

[almoghaniosama]

Urgent Appeal: Support Our Humanitarian Mission in Gaza

My name is Osama , I am a humanitarian activist and founder of "A Sign of Hope team" a dedicated team committed to providing essential aid to displaced families in the South of the Gaza Strip. As a non-registered organization, our team operates with limited resources but with an unwavering commitment to supporting those in dire need amidst the ongoing crisis.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #209 )✅️

The Crisis: A Devastating Displacement

The recent escalation in violence has led to an unprecedented humanitarian disaster. Over 1.5 million people have been forced to flee their homes in the northern Gaza Strip, seeking safety in the south. This mass displacement has left countless individuals and families in precarious situations, having abandoned everything they owned in their desperate bid for safety. The dire conditions are exacerbated by the fact that approximately 390,000 of these displaced individuals have sought refuge in UNRWA schools. The remaining displaced persons, who were unable to secure shelter with relatives or rental accommodations, are left to live in makeshift tents scattered across various locations in the south of Gaza. These individuals face extreme hardships, with basic necessities like food, clothing, and medicine often out of reach.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #209 )✅️

Our Mission: On-the-Ground Support

At "A Sign of Hope" our mission is to provide immediate relief to those who are suffering the most. We are actively working on the ground to assist families residing in schools and those living in tents, despite the substantial risks involved. Our team is dedicated to making a tangible difference by addressing the most pressing needs of these displaced families. To this end, we have begun assembling and distributing parcels containing essential supplies , including food , clothing , water , money , Entertainment programs for displaced children and medicine . These parcels are a lifeline for many offering a glimmer of hope amidst the overwhelming challenges they face.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #209 )✅️

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #209 )✅️

How You Can Help

Our ability to reach more displaced families and provide for their basic needs depends heavily on the support we receive. We are reaching out to individuals and organizations to help us extend our reach and amplify our impact. Your support can make a significant difference in the lives of those who have lost everything and are struggling to survive. We humbly ask for your assistance in any form whether through financial contributions, supplies, or spreading the word about our mission. Every bit of support helps us deliver critical aid and sustain our efforts during this challenging time.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #209 )✅️

Conclusion

The situation in Gaza is dire, and the need for humanitarian aid has never been greater. With your help, "A Sign of Hope" can continue to provide essential support to those who are suffering and help them rebuild their lives amidst the ongoing crisis. Your generosity and solidarity can bring much-needed relief and hope to countless families in their time of need.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters, my number verified on the list is ( #209 )✅️

Thank you for considering our appeal. Together, we can make a difference and bring a glimmer of hope to those who need it most.

[highraccoon]

i love that the state i live in has a program that allows both disabled people AND caregivers to fuck each other over. true equality

[windyengel]

DCXDP Ghosts mate for life (and dead)

It is logical to think that when a ghost finds their partner, is for the afterlife.

Ghosts are basically the souls of those who died and passed to a better state of being, striping them of all the things that could restrain them from following their obsessions.

And even Neverborns, they are ideas given enough power to develop a soul.

So it is logical to think that when a ghost finds their partner, when their core identifies them as their selected partners, is for the remaining of the afterlife.

Sure, they don't have to be lovely dovey the whole time. They fight, "break up" maybe even try to kill each other.

But at the end of the day they get back together.

Danny thought he wouldn't have to worry about that until he went fully dead. He thought that even though he had a ghost core, he was human enough.

He dated Val and Sam and he didn't get ghost attached to them (aside from the protection obsession, but that's mostly because he thought of them as his people)

Then he fooled around with Tuck and even Dash and he didn't form any kind of intense, over the top attachment.

(He still will go feral if someone ever dared to even threaten them or hurt them, but when Tuck and Star started to date he was the first to celebrate for them)

So Danny thought he was save.

That is until he was in his first semester of College in Gotham U, when he was walking back to his dorms at night and someone tried to mug him.

Now, normally he would easily deck the mugger and go his merry way. But this time, before he could do anything, someone fell from the roofs directly on top of the mugger.

And as Danny sees this vigilante take down the mugger, his core does a little purr and pull towards the man, and Danny can only think oh shit and now what do I say to my possible soulmate

-------------------

Tim has never felt more embarrassed in his entire life.

He had been following this guy since he saw him walking alone through Gotham a couple of weeks ago.

At first it was because he was worried that the guy will get mugged working so close to Crime Alley.

(He did get robbed, but decked the man right across his face so hard that the mugger got knocked down)

Then because Tim was curious, full detective mode about this guy and his ability to fight.

Then just because.

He figured out his name was Daniel and he worked in a small coffee shop, and attended the Gotham U aerospace program on a Wayne scholarship.

He figured out he came from a tiny town and was Vladimir Masters legal heir

He discovered he liked to eat midnight burgers and eleven shots of espresso on a coffee cup.

And he knew, now that he was right in front of him, that he had the clearest blue eyes he has seen. It was like seeing deep into a glacier.

Damian had found him stalking following the guy to keep him safe and had pushed him off the roof. And now he was right in front of him.

And he had no clue what to say.

[celestialgalaxyglow]

Batfam and Danny, Part 3

After Danny and Damian's sparring match

Bruce: Danny come over here.

Danny: Hi Bruce.

Bruce: Good job during that fight, not everyone can avoid Damian's sword attacks like that.

Damian: Indeed, you are skilled nephew.

Bruce: And while I question that whole "if there's no blood, it's no fun" thing you and Jason seem to have going on, I see no immediate harm in it, as long as you two stay safe.

Danny: Don't worry it's mostly a joke.

Bruce (laughs): Good to know. No can you follow me to the batcomputer. Before you head out to your first patrol as a formal part of the family I need to give you a chip so we can monitor your vitals and track your location. Speaking of which is the chip going to be a problem with your powers?

Danny: Most likely, my intangibility will cause it to fall out, but if I infuse the chip with some ectoplasm, it should go intangible when I do.

Bruce: Ectoplasm?

Danny: It's basically ghost energy, and don't worry it shouldn't interfere with the chip's ability to collect or transmit data.

Bruce: Ok, then let's get that chip.

Bruce walked Danny to the batcomputer and gave Danny the chip which he infused with ectoplasm and gave back to Bruce who inserted it into Danny's shoulder.

Bruce: Hmm, that's not right, according to this, your body temperature is 80°F, your pulse is 25 beats per minute, and your blood oxygen level is 90%. Stupid thing is broken. Sorry Danny I'll have to remove it and give you a new one.

Danny: It's not wrong.

Bruce: What?

Danny: Given my half-death status my vitals are also half-dead.

Bruce: I see.

Danny: Those are my normal vitals now. But I can manipulate them to normal human levels, but that takes active concentration.

Bruce: Don't worry I can just program your specific chip to your regular vitals.

Danny: Great, but also keep in mind that if I get a little too comfortable while sleeping all of that will just stop, as in my vitals will show that I'm medically dead.

Bruce (concerned): I see... Ok then I'll make a note of that, you can go back to training.

Danny: Alright, bye Bruce.

(Master Post)

[gallusrostromegalus]

If you please; what is your Tolberone theory of knowledge?

My theory, which I thought up a few weeks ago while sick with covid, is that all knowledge is a form of art, and that there are very broadly three basic types of knowledge arts: physical arts, philosophical arts, and scientific arts, and that pretty much all academic, artistic and practical disciplines exist somewhere in that triangle spectrum.

Physical arts are knowledges of how to actually, physically do things. The purest front of physical arts are things like dance and navigation.

Scientific arts are knowledges of things that can be tested and proven. Computer programming and Quilting are both scientific arts: they work, or they don't.

Philosophical Arts are knowledges of things which while not objectively provable, are still very real. History and Being A Good Listener are philosophical arts.

Nearly every discipline of knowledge is some combination of all three. Cooking is largely applied chemistry, a scientific art, but it's also a philosophical art because flavor is extremely cultural and contextual, and a physical art because you have to know how to hold the damn knife and heat when it's done.

The first part of toblerone theory is that, like how each piece has three sides, any given project needs at least one person who has a good grasp of each of the underlying arts involved or it's going to go sideways at best. For example:

Physical and Scientific arts, no philosophy: Jurassic Park. They need someone to point out that, while very possible, it's not necessarily a good idea.

Philosophy and Science, no physical: that dril tweet about the forum debate locked by a mod after 12,000 pages of heated debate. They need someone to drag them away from the keyboard and actually do something.

Philosophy and Physical, no science: that cult in midsommar that put a guy in a bearsuit. Without the ability to engage measurably with the world, they give into fear and behave like reactive animals. Also the "rare chicken steak" phenomenon.

You can have differing ratios of each type- Jurassic Park really only needed two philosophers: one animal behaviorist and an OSHA inspector, and 98% of the issues would have been avoided- but you do need at least ONE of each underlying art to check each other's work.

The second part of toblerone theory is that, like how the toblerone is made of many triangle pieces, there are poles to the triangle spectrum. Practical vs Esoteric arts. Short term and long term arts. High stakes vs for funsies arts.

While you have have different ratios and levels of expertise in each of the arts, you do all need them to be on the same piece of the bar, or they won't take each other seriously. A UN Diplomat and a climate scientist aren't going to take the advice of physical artist my uncle Bobby the plumber re: global warming, but they will take the advice of physical artist my Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer, a world expert in getting shit done.

The same applies for the other end of the spectrum. Aunt Cheryl the civil engineer isn't going to get much milage with the local high school student council and principal Waley when the problem at hand is "what are we going to do for this year's prom theme?"

I gotta go to therapy now, pictures later.

[explorevenus]

fit for duty ♡ wolf hybrids!chreon/puppy hybrid!f!reader

nsfw (18+) - minors. dni or i will call ur mom. and also the cops

word count: 6.1 k

tags/warnings: wolf hybrid chris, wolf hybrid leon, chreon being sneaky/manipulative together, puppy/mutt hybrid reader, cringefail reader, pet names, brief daddy kink mention, abuse of power, drugging (kinda), reader gets forced into heat, breeding, multiple orgasms, belly bulge, vaginal double penetration, knotting

description: you used to be the government's best tracking hybrid, until a chemical agent fried your sense of smell. chris and leon find a better use for you than the battlefield.

a/n: as commissioned by my darling kennykins <3 @dollfacefantasy happy valentine's day >:)) :Kyle:

divider by @strangergraphics

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

"Poor thing," Chris observed with a heavy sigh, tilting his head to look at Leon as they stood at one end of the track, watching you bumble your way through your training course on two left feet. "She was not built for active duty."

Leon's ear twitched with mild amusement, the wiry grey fur losing its contrast by the day against his dark blond head of hair-- he almost could've sworn that worrying about you was aging him quicker. "Not even slightly," he agreed, "I'm gonna lose my shit if they try to send her out there."

Typically Chris would have discouraged Leon from losing his shit, but even he couldn't argue with that sentiment. Arms crossed, they continued to stand back and watch, trying not to let the pity show on their faces.

You were once the U.S. government's most prized and expensive sniffer dog, a hybrid born of the most ideal combination of breeds for the job. You were highly effective and devastatingly accurate, lent out to the FBI, CIA, DEA, DHS, DSO, so many acronyms you lost count, tracking down bombs and drugs and cadavers and counterfeit currency, and anything else under the sun that left a minuscule scent behind.

Until eight months ago, when you were victimized in an ambush attack involving an aerosol respiratory agent that absolutely fried your sense of smell. No expense was spared trying to get you good and recovered, but it soon became obvious that the damage was irreversible. Without any other kind of training, that revelation just rendered you the country's most costly, sentient paperweight. That's where Chris and Leon came in.

By all metrics-- and whether they liked it or not-- Chris Redfield and Leon Kennedy were the poster children of their field in the hybrid program. Their canine genetics weren't distilled from domestic breeds, but instead from wolves. Unmatched in their strength, agility, and stamina, their tracking abilities second-to-none now that you were out of the game…

If anyone would be capable of training you from a soft puppy into a tactical canine, it would be Chris and Leon, and yet here you were, just a few weeks from graduating basic and barely meeting your marks.

You weren't particularly fast, you weren't very strong, and you were so used to relying on scent to guide you that you had a hard time gaining awareness of your surroundings outside of the ground beneath your non-functioning nose. They did everything they could, they really tried your best with you, but you really, really just weren't cut out for this. It was downright painful to sit here and watch you flounder.

As you finally reached the end of your training course several minutes behind your peers, Chris and Leon shared a pitiful, fed-up, communicative look; whatever it might take, they weren’t letting you flounder anymore.

If Chris and Leon had learned anything over their years of service to the government, it would be the value of good relations in high places, the value of a single strategic phone call, the value of being owed favors. Of course both men usually preferred to go about things the right way, but when the right way wasn’t working, what else were they to do but carve an alternative path of their own?

You weren’t just any little whelp, after all, you were more than worth the effort. They’d grown dangerously fond of you over the course of your time together. You were so earnest and sweet, so pretty and kind and so very lost, like a fallen angel. Looking after you became an unbreakable habit, and it awakened something in them that they hadn’t felt since they were… well, your age.

You awakened in them the urge to protect, the urge to claim, the urge to compete for the right to pin you down and mark you up with their teeth, the urge to retire, to build a home for you, and to spend the rest of their days breeding you up with litters to fill every room.

The urge to keep you all to themselves.

It wasn’t their fault that you smelled so good. Hell, it wasn’t even your fault. In your condition, you didn’t know. You were oblivious to how rich your own scent became during your heat, and you didn’t seem to react to the heady musk of their ruts, either. Maybe if your nose actually worked, you’d have long since caught on to their increasingly unprofessional interest in you, but for better or for worse, you appeared to be clueless as always.

That, and your painfully poor performance today, worked well to their advantage. Chris took out his phone as you trudged off into the locker room, and one call was all it took.

One call, and your career as a field agent was finished. You had been swiftly and quietly reassigned before you even got out of the shower.

"Hey," Chris caught your attention as soon as you stepped out of the locker room, arms crossed casually over his beefy chest even as his sudden appearance caused you to jump a little. Both him and Leon were leaning against either side of the doorway just waiting for you to come out, like two hunks in some cheesy movie. "C'mon, let's go get some dinner. We need to talk to you."

If it weren't for how calmly he spoke, the mere words 'we need to talk to you' would have sent your ears flat against your head and your tail between your legs, but as your eyes cast between the two of them in curiosity, you realized their expressions were less disappointed than you expected, given your performance today. They almost looked mischievous.

"Okay, sure… dinner sounds good," You reluctantly agreed, scrutinizing them now.

Leon reached out to take your athletic bag for you without even asking. Chris draped his arm around you and pulled you into his side while the three of you walked, his hand spanning across the entire width of your lower back to guide you. Their tails were swinging wide enough to brush with yours, and each other's.

Oh, they were definitely up to something.

“Why are you guys being weird?” You asked bluntly, nudging Leon with your elbow. If you were going to get either one of them to crack, it would more likely be Leon. “Am I in trouble or something? Look, I know my times were shit today, but I was honestly trying, and I swear I’m gonna get it eventually—“

“Relax,” Leon interjected, pinching your butt just to watch you jump. “You’re not in trouble, pup. Take a deep breath, or you’re gonna pop a blood vessel.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a deep breath and kept walking. “You didn’t answer my question all the way,” you huffed dramatically.

“I said we wanted to talk to you, didn’t I?” Chris spoke up, raising a brow at you in that subtle look of near-disapproval that almost always straightened you out immediately. “We’re gonna take you home, we’re gonna have some dinner, and we’re gonna talk. Just be patient.”

Just be patient. Hmph. That was a tall ask for you and they knew it, but you conceded anyway for fear of pushing their buttons. Despite your outwardly playful demeanor, you weren’t feeling great about yourself in the wake of today’s results. 

Plummeting from the height of your profession due to circumstances outside your control, deemed irreparably broken after several weeks in and out of experimental surgeries, training your ass off for months just to continue to fail and fail and fail… You were getting exhausted, your optimism was wearing paper thin, and these days it was starting to feel like the only people who believed in you, let alone cared about you, were Chris and Leon. You appreciated them deeply of course, but at this point, something had to give.

Something had to give, or, like Leon said, you’d pop a blood vessel.

Chris and Leon’s shared apartment, thankfully, was something of a sanctuary for you. You always felt protected and cared for within these walls, and the only thing you didn’t like about it was that you couldn’t smell anything, but that wasn’t their fault.

The pair all but ordered you to relax on the couch while they convened in the kitchen to make dinner, and as you sank lazily into the cushions, you wished you could bury your nose into the navy blue fleece thrown over the arm and breathe in their scent, or even the faintest hint of detergent, cologne, sweat, something. Sure, thousands of people live completely normal lives with no sense of smell, but how many of them were canine hybrids like you? Scent wasn’t just your career, it was your compass in so many aspects of your life.

Scent was what told you if you could trust someone. Scent was what told you if a building was safe. Scent was what told you when you were home. There was so much more to it than just wishing you could fully taste certain flavors again, or catch a fresh autumn breeze, or enjoy a fragrant candle. You felt completely detached from the world as you were genetically engineered to experience it.

“Alright, pumpkin, dinner’s just about ready. Come set the table,” Leon poked his head out from the kitchen, the low vibration of his voice working like a charm to soothe the tides of your anxious mind.  You could practically already hear him ratting you out to Chris for being too hard on yourself— a big no-no— and that was more than enough to redirect your train of thought for now.

So you popped up from the couch with a nod and followed in his footsteps, thoughtfully setting the table with silverware, plates, and water glasses, humming a little tune to yourself while you worked. It was your adorable mannerisms like this that made Chris and Leon love you so much in the first place. You couldn’t be any more precious if you tried.

Unless you were to be waddling around the house with a bellyful of puppies, of course, but they were working on that. All in due time.

Dinner was relatively simple, but hearty, a hot bowl of soup with crusty slices of bread to go with it, sure to replenish all you’d lost after a long day of physical exertion. With your back turned while you set the table, it didn’t require much sleight of hand for Chris to stir a little something extra into your portion to help the process along, just a few supplements to promote fertility and prepare you for what was to come.

Both men joined you in the dining room to serve the meal, and now that you were all sat, the air in the room went immediately tense as you stared at them in anticipation.

The dining room was quiet aside from the faint sound of the TV in the other room, and the dull clicking of silverware. It would have been peaceful if you weren’t so eager to hear what they wanted to talk to you about. Sitting here wondering made you feel like you were going to explode.

“C’mon, pup, eat,” Chris ordered gently, nodding to the bowl in front of you. “You had a very busy day today.”

Stubbornly, you groaned, picking up your spoon to take a few bites. It’s not that you weren’t hungry, of course, you were just anxious, and they knew that. Your mannerisms were almost laughably simple to read, which made them feel a bit bad, but hey, they couldn’t just let you leave your dinner going cold. It was made special just for you.

“You’re killing me,” you whined, scooping up a bite of soup with your bread nonetheless, always with the dramatics. 

Leon chuckled at your display, ears flicking with amusement, and while Chris was usually the one to call the shots, the blond chose to step in and offer you a compromise. “Three more bites and we’ll talk, okay? And no cheating, I mean real bites.”

That seemed to work, and you nodded, albeit with a bit of grumbling at his pulling the plug on any potential cheating before you even had a chance to try to get away with it. The two wolves shared a silent look of understanding while your attention was captured by the meal in front of you, and once you were finished with those three agreed upon bites, it was Chris who accepted the responsibility of starting the conversation.

“You’re not such a big fan of field work, are you, sweetheart?” He asked, tone delicate so as not to freak you out— you weren’t in trouble, far from it. “All the shooting and fighting and running around?”

Looking down at the table, your ears laid low, you gave a half-shrug and mumbled, “I don’t mind the running around part.”

Both men cracked a little smile at this, their own ears flicking with amusement.

“Of course you don’t mind that part, silly baby,” Leon teased, “but, honey, the rest of it… it makes you miserable, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t respond for a beat, gaze still fixed down at the table while you tried to gather the right words, idly stirring your spoon through your bowl just to fidget. The last thing you wanted to do was disappoint them. They’d put so much work into preparing you for this final evaluation, so much time and effort into helping you learn the ins and outs of field operation, and you didn’t want to just give up.

But they saw the conflict raging in you and they knew what you were thinking, and it wasn’t fair, not to you, not at all.

“Hey… it’s okay if you don’t like it, puppy. No one’s mad at you, no one’s disappointed, no one’s in trouble,” Chris reassured you, reaching across the table to gently tilt your chin up with one curled knuckle. “That’s actually why we wanted to talk.”

Heat crept up the column of your neck as you met his eyes, recognizing the kindness and care in them, feeling him disarm you in real time. What you didn’t know was just how carefully Chris was trying to phrase this, that Leon was squeezing the meat of his thigh under the table to ground him and encourage him.

It was much harder to navigate breaking the news to you than they forethought.

“Listen, sweetheart, me and Leon and some of the higher-ups have been thinking that field operation might not be a good fit for you,” he continued delicately, the pad of his thumb swiping gently back and forth, caressing the curve of your jaw. “We were… informed today that you’ve been reassigned.”

Chris did feel rather guilty in the back of his mind for phrasing it that way, like it wasn’t their idea in the first place, but they were in too deep to turn back now, and he was already getting a little bricked up thinking about fucking you after dinner. He’d beg for your forgiveness later if he had to.

Your expression went through a series of emotions— first shock, then guilt, then questioning— and for as reassuring as Chris and Leon were being right now, it was hard not to feel utterly lost again. As far as you knew, reassignment meant you’d probably never see them again, just like the team you used to work with before you were injured. To be taken away from Chris and Leon as a result of your own failure to perform would kill you.

“D-Does that mean I won’t get to be with you anymore?” You asked hesitantly, voice weak and quiet due to your thinking you already knew the answer.

And that’s where Leon stepped in.

“Actually, pup, it means the opposite,” he interjected, all too happy to be the one to give you the good news part of this. “You get to be with us all the time now, and we get to take care of you forever. No more training, no more guns, no more worrying for your life or for ours. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

Your breath hitched and your brows pinched together in sudden confusion, that deep sense of grief and devastation that was preparing to descend upon you just… halting for a moment, paused in the tunnel of your throat.

It did sound nice, but it sounded too nice, like there was more to it that they weren’t telling you, another shoe left yet to drop, and surely there had to be. You’d been branded a sunk cost enough times to know that the government didn’t like to fund things it wouldn’t be seeing a return on, and you were far too young to retire, so what was the deal?

Reading the look on your face with impressive accuracy, Chris couldn’t stand to watch any longer as you sat there clearly fearing the worst, so he chose to speak plainly.

“They’re thinking we’d make some good, healthy litters together, sweet girl,” he said, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “That’s a nice idea, isn’t it? Settling down, havin’ our pups…”

Consciously or not, your ears perked up halfway at this, flicking with interest. You wished you could say you hadn’t really put any thought into something like this before, but come on, that would be a lie. You liked Chris and Leon a lot, they were so sweet to you, and so very handsome— it was only natural that you’d dream girlishly from time to time about playing house with them, what your babies might look like, what Chris and Leon might be like as fathers…

And how big their cocks are, and how amazing it would feel to take them both at once…

Now wasn’t the time to be dreaming, however, with both of them watching so closely for your reaction. You nearly let a drop of drool slip past your lips before you snapped out of it, hand flying up to wipe your mouth. Smooth.

A smug look of knowing washed over Leon’s features, his fingers drumming on the table to coax your attention on him, his sharp left canine bared in a lopsided smirk. “Oh, you really like that idea, don’t you, little one?” He drawled, reaching across the table to nudge your hand away so he could swipe the pad of his thumb along your plush bottom lip, tempted to dip it in and make you suck on it, but he wanted to get you squirming a little more first.

“L-Leon—”

“Don’t lie to me… you like it a lot, baby, I can see it on your face,” he cut you off, intent upon not letting you deny it. “You were never built to be out there fighting and risking your life, were you, pup? You were never ‘sposed to be put in danger like that, our poor, precious girl… It’s no wonder it didn’t work out for you, huh? You didn’t do anything wrong, you just knew deep down that you were always meant to be a mommy…”

Your wide eyes darted up to look at Chris as if you were begging him to step in without being able to form the actual words, a timid whine making its way out instead, but unfortunately for you, he wasn’t interested in cutting you a break. Why would he? Leon had made such good progress.

“Leon’s right, you know… you smell so fertile, I’ll bet we could get at least two pups out of you on your very first litter…”

“Just two?” Leon puffed, “I’m shooting for three.”

“Yeah, right, old man, all you’re shooting is blanks,” Chris countered with a playful growl, turning to nip at Leon’s nose with his teeth, the movement allowing him a decent moment of cover to readjust his pants under the table. Just as soon, though, he made no effort to conceal the path his hand took from his own lap to the crotch of Leon’s jeans, palming his partner’s stiffening sex through the denim.

Leon’s head tilted back with an airy groan and his tail beat dumbly against the frame of his chair, hips bucking up slightly. Your jaw was stuck open now and you shifted in your seat, the movement bringing your attention to just how slick you were, standard issue cotton growing sticky and warm beneath your athletic leggings.

Dinner sat long forgotten on the table in front of you, but that didn’t mean you weren’t affected by what Chris gave you. To witness this would have flustered you regardless, but right now you were flushed red and practically dripping— with every passing moment, you were losing your ability to think straight, almost like you were going into heat. Swiping your hair away from your face with shaking hands, your lips parted for oxygen, drinking in slow, shallow breaths in an attempt to regain control of yourself, but every lungful of air you breathed was teeming with their pheromones. You were only getting dizzier.

And they were loving every second of it. Grinning slyly as he continued to knead Leon through his jeans, Chris couldn’t help himself, “You’re lookin’ a little flushed there, puppy. Maybe you should go lay down.”

Your eyes locked with his, and within what felt like only a single moment, Leon was up from his chair and circling the table to tug you out of yours. Before you could fully register the movement, let alone respond to it, he was tossing you over his shoulder like you weighed nothing and carrying you deeper into the apartment.

“Chris!” You yelped out of habit, but once again, the older wolf had no interest in lending you a hand. He was following right along with you both, and once you crossed the threshold into the bedroom, he shut the door behind you all with a decisive click.

Leon tossed you down upon the center of the bed less than gracefully, immediately caging you in so he could bury his face into your throat, breathing you in with desperation between needy kisses and possessive bites. Positioning himself at the head of the bed just above you, Chris guided your head up to rest in his lap as Leon’s attention crept lower and lower down your body, until his strong nose was pressed to your navel.

Heaven, Leon thought to himself, this must be what heaven is like.

Your scent was peppery and sweet, creamy with fertility. His hands balled up into fists clutching the fabric of your shirt and he tore it off of you without a second thought. Encouraged by the revealed expanse of bare skin— and your failure to protest— your leggings were similarly ripped apart directly thereafter. Without missing a beat, Leon grabbed you at the thighs and spread your legs so he could situate himself between them, head ducking forward to huff wantonly at the sodden fabric of your undies, tongue darting out to taste them.

Reaching down to flick him in the forehead, Chris scolded him playfully, “You plan on coming up for air anytime soon, or am I gonna have to make you?”

Leon responded with a humorless grunt, clearly just as lost in the throes of hormonal lustfulness as you were. Nonetheless, he acquiesced, nipping at the crotch of your panties with his teeth before sitting up to his haunches and countering, “We gotta make sure she’s prepared first. Don’t wanna break her on your knot.”

You tensed a bit upon hearing this, but Chris quickly shushed you, scratching behind your ears reassuringly. “We’re not gonna break you, honey.”

He scooped you up beneath your arms to pull you up into more of a sitting position in his lap, and only now did you notice he’d already undressed. While you were busy ogling every rippling inch of his tanned skin, Leon was stripping too, the temperature in the room rising exponentially. Try as they might to remain cool, Chris and Leon were panting just as much as you were.

You could feel the weight of Chris’ stiff cock pressed up against your lower back, making you whine and squirm to get closer, intoxicated by the idea of sitting on it. But you knew Leon was right— you had no hope of taking even one knot comfortably without more preparation, no matter how wet you were.

“F-Fingers, fingers, please,” you all but babbled, taking it upon yourself to shimmy your panties down to mid-thigh. You were desperate for something thick and warm to claim the empty space between your walls, a void that felt like it was only carving deeper into the pit of you.

From the start of your very first cycle, the doctors were always timely with your monthly inhibitor— it didn’t negate the symptoms associated with going into heat entirely, but it absolutely did dampen them. You’d never felt your heat with such intensity before, and that was by careful design— a pinch of cinnamon among the additives to your meal was all it took to counteract your inhibitor, which was nearing the end of its four-week lifespan anyway.

Maybe Chris and Leon would even luck out and, moving forward, you’d subconsciously associate the intensity of your heat with them.

“Shh, shh, alright, baby,” Chris cooed in your ear as he worked in tandem with Leon to tug your panties off the rest of the way. His massive palm then sank down between your legs, fingers spreading apart your slippery folds, and with a subtle nod to Leon over your head, he added in a sultry murmur, “Let’s get you good and taken care of.”

Leon was on you in a second, prints pressing deep into your hips as he rutted into the mattress and lapped at your sweetness, tail swinging back and forth in a haphazard pendulum of dumb weight. Through the incomprehensible horny fog that hung over his head, Leon was determined to commit the taste of you to memory so that he could discover how it might change once you were finally pregnant.

Sucking your clit between his lips with a low moan, Leon took advantage of your surprise to push his index finger past your tight little hole, his other hand keeping your hips steady so you wouldn’t accidentally hurt yourself when you bucked. A sharp whine pushed up from your throat but it wasn’t one of displeasure. Far from it. You were clenching around him like you were trying to suck him in, and what kind of gentleman would he be if he didn’t oblige?

“Mm, there you go, good girl,” he groaned, flattening his tongue on you to lick a broad stripe from your hole to your puffy clit. “Takin’ daddy’s fingers like a fuckin’ dream…”

“Yeah, you are,” Chris agreed without hesitation, gently stroking the boundaries of your cunt in a soothing motion that spread you open wider, allowing Leon to sneak a second finger in with the first. “Gonna take our knots with no problem at all, aren’t you, pretty girl? ‘Til you’re all fucked full…” 

The way you squirmed and twitched in Chris’ lap only worked more blood to his dick, but thankfully he was a much more patient man than Leon, whose hand was plunging in and out of you at a measured but shaky pace. You were dripping like a faucet and kicking your legs out over his shoulders, clutching the portion of grey-blond hair between his wiry ears in a white-knuckled fist.

Leon only unlatched from your cunt to breathe, dragging in a series of heavy breaths before his teeth sank deep into the plush, creamy flesh at the inside of your right thigh, marking you. The sting of it was quickly followed by Chris’ own claim bite where your tender neck met your left shoulder.

The sharp sensation rushed through you and forced goosebumps to rise along your skin, head falling back against Chris’ chest as you whined and convulsed around Leon’s fingers, tumbling over the cusp of an intense and unexpected orgasm. But it didn’t dampen that heat in you, it didn’t offer any relief— if anything, as the tides began to calm, you were only left wanting more. More and more and more, want turning quickly to need.

As Leon withdrew his slick fingers from you, your head was spinning, upper half falling forward as you braced yourself on your elbows, spine sloping down to the mattress in a languid arch to present yourself to Chris. You could feel the cool air of the room chilling the arousal that leaked out from between your soft lips, hole pulsing and squeezing around the mere idea of his length.

“Please, please, please,” you whimpered, tail curled up to the base and wagging timidly side-to-side, like it was just beckoning him to sink into you. “Gimme pups, gimme pups, please—”

You couldn’t see his expression, but Chris was sweating, caressing your hip with one hand while the other tugged at his aching cock, already sticky and leaking down his clenched knuckles. “Fuck, baby,” he groaned, “look at that pretty pussy… you showin’ off?”

Nodding dumbly into the bedding, you felt Leon’s hand come forward to card through your hair, making your eyes flutter comfortably shut. He was stroking himself too, every pump of his hand signified by a subtle schlicking sound of his own pre marrying together with the mess you’d made on his fingers.

Chris started with two fingers first. His were just a little bit shorter than Leon’s, but much thicker, stretching you out more. It was just so adorable, the way you gasped and mewled and rutted back into him while he carefully scissored your hole further open. The anticipation that vibrated through you only ramped up their own.

“You’re gonna look so pretty knotted up, aren’t you?” Leon smiled down at your flushed form. “And even prettier with a bellyful of puppies…”

You drew in a breath to respond but didn’t have much of a chance before Chris replaced his fingers with the heavy head of his cock, each and every rigid inch sliding in without resistance. As his hips rutted forward to become flush with your bottom, the air was punched from your lungs and expressed in a needy cry. Heat bloomed through your middle as he went still for a short moment, but you didn’t need still, you needed babies.

So you shifted beneath him and began to fuck yourself on Chris’ dick, working up to a fervent pace where every twitch of your thighs felt like lightning, but it didn’t stop you. It thrust you forward. All your mushy little brain could think to do right now was fuck and fuck and fuck until you couldn’t move anymore, until you couldn’t even keep your eyes open. Lucky for you, that was the only outcome that would stop them, too.

Chris gripped you at the waist to hold you steady so he could truly start pounding into you, losing himself in your silky cunt. You were squeezing him so perfectly and he couldn’t look away, pupils blown open wide as he watched you suck him in deep, dripping creamy white along the length of his shaft.

“You’re perfect, pup, just… j-just perfect,” he rumbled in your ear, leaning over your back to kiss and nip at your throat between gasps for breath. “Perfect little puppy, such a good girl… swear I could fuck you forever…”

Losing his patience by the minute, Leon had to stop touching himself just to keep from blowing his load early, but he was throbbing with the need to penetrate you. He could already imagine how good you must feel just by the look on Chris’ face.

“C-Chris, Chris… fuck, I’m… gonna fuckin’ bust,” he shuddered, “please…”

And Chris could tell by the look on Leon’s face that he wasn’t joking. His meaty hands printed into your skin with the effort it took for him to slow down, one hand sliding up the length of your spine to tug you up by the back of your neck like a little baby whelp.

“Think you can handle that right now, princess?” He asked in a breathy whisper, lips ghosting along the curve of your slack jaw.

Once more, you were nodding like a bobble-head, bleary eyes catching between the sight of Leon’s cock, and the sight of Chris’ hammering up beneath the soft skin of your belly. You didn’t have much capacity to wonder if you could handle them both right now, because you just so desperately wanted to anyway.

“Alright, then,” he replied in something of an affectionately patronizing tone, like he didn’t fully believe you, but he gestured for Leon to join you regardless.

Leon scrambled forward on his knees, spreading your legs open as wide as they could comfortably rest so that he had a good, clear path to you. Hooking one leg over Chris’ hip until you were upright and sandwiched between them at the head of the bed, Leon ground himself up against you, carefully angling his tip until it caught on your hole. All three of you buckled at the feeling, your breath caught in your throat and tears leaking down your chin as Leon bucked up into you, tongue lapping at every stray teardrop in a series of stilted, needy puppy kisses.

The gruff wolf was all but whimpering and whining against your skin until his head fell back in pleasure, teeth gnashing at his own lip just to maintain focus while Chris gradually approached his earlier pace, if not a bit shaky now with the added friction of Leon’s firm, swollen sex dragging back and forth alongside his own. They could feel every little dip and ridge of one another, every throb of each other’s veins, and while they knew they had a long night ahead of them in terms of helping you through your heat, they were getting dangerously close already.

In the midst of everything, you were pretty sure you came twice more just in the time it took Leon to push into you too, and your body wasn’t giving you any signs of stopping soon. You were wetter than ever and twice as incoherent, babbling complete and utter nonsense into the hot, heavy air just to cope.

“Oh, sweetheart, you’re so cute like this,” Chris growled against the crown of your head, trying his best to hold off for as long as he could, but it was all just too much— balls drawing up tight, he grunted, “You ready?”

All it took was the first semblance of please making its way past your lips for him to lose it, holding you down firmly in his lap. Rope after rope of his cum flooded into you, finally sating some of that burning emptiness you felt. You went all but limp between their firm bodies, shivering and twitching and crying in ecstasy, in relief, yet another wave of near-overwhelming rapture licking over exposed nerves. 

And then his knot began to swell. You jerked in surprise at first, but he just shushed you, nuzzling against the nape of your neck while he continued to hold you still. The weight of your clenching walls and the slickness of Chris’ spend sent Leon over the edge too, while you were distracted, and with two baseball-sized knots expanding to fill any and all empty space in your poor little cunt, you quickly realized you wouldn’t be moving anytime soon.

“O-Oh, ow,” you wept, trying to squirm a bit, but they wouldn’t let you.

They were mindful to check that you were okay, of course, because as much as it would have killed them to risk wasting any cum that could otherwise be getting you pregnant, they weren’t going to keep you knotted tonight unless you really wanted them to— this was presumably your first time, and would be considered a lot for anyone’s first time.

But you just clung to them. Any little adjustment they made was met with your grabbing hands pulling them close again, and a quiet, tearful whine. Splaying his hand out, Leon delicately rubbed your tummy to help you relax while Chris kissed you all over and massaged some of the tension from your trembling thighs, bucking gently up into you just to hear you squeak.

“You did so good, puppy,” Chris mused, “gonna make such a pretty mama.”

“Mhm, so good, and so pretty,” Leon was eager to agree, already chubbing up again at the mere thought of your belly beginning to bloom where his hand laid now. “Fuck active duty, you’re staying right here.”

[kalpeavaris]

oh whats that? Murder Drones Dragon!AU? Yeah?? Anyways I had a little blackout today and uh... doodles this... here you go. I even have a lil concept for it, teehee. Maybe I'll do more with it besides these doodles.

Anyways, lore drop time!!

In this AU, Dragons are a mammal-based species living on Copper-9, a habital planet similar to Earth (think Proxima Centauri b but Copper-9), where the humans had set up camp in the 3050s to study the species of dragons, which they had done for a long time. Due to the dragons high level of intelligence (on par with that of humans and exceeding it) as well as their similarities in DNA and being both mammals despite the dragons lizard-esque appearance.

Now, in this AU there's no Solver (not as virus, seperate entity or smth like that) but instead there's just Cyn. Cyn is the result of splicing human & dragon DNA, creating the first successful hybrid of both species. The experimentation around hybrids was kickstarted by James Elliott after losing his daughter Tessa in her 20s to cancer, wanting some way to revive his daughter or potentially even clone her with DNA that might help her live longer and healthier (since clones usually also experience a similar fate to their donor). Cyn was the result after many failed attempts and embryos that died off or were barely alive for a few hours/days, and combined a good appearance of the dragon donor and Tessa.

She is however, like other clones, her own being - but being treated as both a "replacement Tessa/daughter" to the Elliott family as well as being constantly used as a 'lab rat' has droven her really bitter. And who can blame her :')) Her body and mind both aged way faster than the usual human, attributed to both her dragon DNA and that of Tessa having been extracted in her early 20s. She's witty, sharp-tongued and prone to violence, which has brought the labratory responsible for testing at edge with Cyn being there.

You see, dragons in this AU all have a pre-destined element they can control to some extend, and they grow into learning how to control this power. Some can breathe it, some can use it similar to how element bending in Avatar worked, some can alter the state of said element through touch or even telepathy. Cyn can control every element to a molecular level, though the 'downside' is that she has to physically touch it for the time being and cannot use telepathy, which doesn't lower the incredibly level of a threat she's posing to basically anyone in her vicinity.

Killing off every human lab worker in 3054, she essentially takes over the lab and becomes her own entity, which is the "Absolute Solver" in this AU. Since Cyn's DNA was also used to inject "willing" test subjects like other dragons and humans, her abilities were spread, which includes Nori - who later passed on these genes and abilities to Uzi. Yeah, Cyn and Uzi are basically somewhat related in this AU. She's her grandmother... to some extend?? I guess?? PART TIME MOTHER???

N, V and J already exist in this AU and they're all workers for the Elliott family, similar to the OG. J is their secretary and was in a secretive relationship with Tessa, which makes the whole ordeal of Tessa passing & a clone being created (which is on the look out to kill people for revenge, whoops) a very emotional affair for her - and she has grown incredibly bitter over this. N & V are her younger siblings, and with N being pretty much the goody two shoes and V prone to spontaneous arson, trouble is pre-programmed.

N & V are both responsible for seeking out so called "wild dragons" (dragons that refused to integrate themselves into human society and argue that their sapient status means they shouldn't be working in such degrading manners, which slay, fuck capitalism and colonization) - and on one of their hunts in 3071 they meet Uzi, the daughter of one of the largest dragons ever known to both socities... and after initially being afraid of her they quickly learn she's quite... well... she's coming after her dad. Uzi however keeps them at bay, and intruiges both N and V with her demeanor, who agree to not harm anyone if Uzi in response shows them "her way of living".

It's not all fleshed out but it's coming!!

some tidbits I'm just gonna toss here:

-> Uzi's thumbs were amputated as a hatchling since descendants of Cyn's DNA were all born with 4 fingers & 1 thumb, while other dragons usually only have 4 fingers. To hide that Uzi's one of Cyn's descendants, Khan and Nori decided it'd be best.

-> N, V and J were labgrown dragons created in the 3050s, which the humans used to create in order to integrate them into human society easier... and exploit them as low-wage workers.

[italladdsup]

dumbification training. I wake up in a decently sized room, my feet chained to a chair with a computer in front of me. I'm sitting on a pair of vibrating dildos, one in each hole. A shock collar sits unoticingly comfortable around my neck, and a pair of headphones sit on my head.

The computer turns on. It seems to be on some sort of standardized testing program, the same ones you'd see students taking in a classroom during exam week. Questions headline the top of the screen, with the answers lined up in a multiple choice format. The instructions tell me to answer honestly and to the best I can. It doesn't say how many questions there are. The headphones play a soft buzzing noise and read out the questions.

First question pops up. It's a reading comprehension question. I skim over the paragraph, and I answer the question correctly, only to be met with brief electrocution. The screen moves automatically to the next question. Something about geometry, i to answer it correctly, but I'm shocked again when I do. Third question, something about English grammer. I'm shocked again. This keeps up for a few more questions.

By the 10th question, I can't take another shock, so I purposefully answer the question wrong, just to see what would happen. The screen flashes and in an instant, all my pain is gone. I feel a brief sense of relief and relaxation wash over me. The voice in the headphones praises me for answering 'correctly'

Next question appears on screen, and it's... harder? It's another reading comprehension question with a brief paragraph, but I'm struggling to read it. It's like the words are just flying past my brain. I get the question wrong, the voice praises me, I get hit with a wave of relief, and the dildos beneath me start to vibrate lowly.

The questions start to get simpler, going from high school level questions to kindergarten level questions. Every time I get one wrong, the vibrators get stronger I get blasted with a wave of pleasure. At some point I stop even reading them, I just answer at random to feel even more pleasure.

The questions start to get hornier, like asking me what a certain sex position is or how to perform a certain act. When I answer those correctly, I get edged. The screen 'asks' me to repeat mantras, and rewards me with pleasure when I do so.

It asks me, "does it feel good to be dumb?" "Does it feel good to obey?" and of course I answer yes. "Who thinks for you?" Master does. "What do you know?" Whatever Master tells me I know.

At the end of it, the screen turns into a flashing spiral. The voice tells me what a good job I did at learning how to be a dumb slut. The dildos thrust into me at the highest vibration speed, and when I get permission to cum, I have one of the greatest orgasms of my life.

After I cum, I've lost nearly all my ability to think for myself. I can't read anything above basic children's books, and can't do any math more advanced than basic addition. I cant remmeber how to write unless i'm told to write something.

But it's fine, I'm a dumb slut. I love being a dumb slut. All dumb sluts need to know is whatever their Master tells them to. Master thinks for me, and I'm so happy and grateful he does. Master is so smart, it's only right for him to think for me.

[ms-demeanor]

You have mentioned that osteopaths (DOs) are not just medical woo and are roughly equivalent to MDs. I was looking into it more and finding that myofascial release and osteopathic manual manipulation seem to be verified about as well as chiropracty. As these seem to be the main differing abilities of DOs from MDs, would you explain your reasoning on trusting DOs?

I see one as part of my regular hEDS medical care for realigning and unsticking joints as well as craniosacral therapy. My perception is that it’s helpful when I’m in pain and often I can tell that something was misaligned and has been realigned, but I recognize that I see significantly more improvement when I’m regular about my PT, which is significantly more supported by medical literature.

It's not that they're roughly equivalent to MDs, it's that in terms of licensing, training, certification, scope of practice, and education they are *exactly* equivalent to MDs but they sprinkled some woo on top.

At some point, some people practicing osteopathy decided that they wanted to be real doctors, so they organized and lobbied and, very importantly, *went to medical school about it.* (As long as they went to medical school about it - make sure you're seeing a DO, not an "osteopath" - one is a legally protected term that grants the right to practice medicine and the other is not)

Completing a degree in Osteopathic Medicine requires first completing a bachelor's degree with specific requirements for biological sciences - the same course work and degree you'd do before applying to a medical school, basically. Then you get the four-year DO degree, then a one-year internship, then a residency of anywhere from three to eight years. In order to practice medicine, they have to pass the same medical board examines and have the same training qualifications as an MD. In the US, MD and DO are equivalent degrees, though DOs take extra time to study osteopathy (which is, yes, pseudoscientific nonsense).

DO programs have more of a focus on holistic one-on-one patient centered care than a lot of MD programs; DOs train and focus more on becoming primary care physicians and are less likely to become specialist surgeons (though there are DOs who are licensed to practice surgery!), but a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine is a fully qualified doctor. They have done all the same things that an MD has done - including 10,000+ hours of clinical training as part of a residency. They just ALSO do a couple hundred hours of the osteopathy stuff. There are DOs who are obstetricians, ER doctors, surgeons, endocrinologists - a DO is a full-on doctor. One of the doctors Large Bastard was treated by in the hospital in December was a DO. I cannot emphasize that enough, they are legally certified and educationally qualified to practice medicine throughout the united states.

Compare this to chiropractors, who also want to be seen as doctors, who do not need a bachelor's degree before attending a chiropractic college, whose chiropractic education is 3-4 years, and whose requirements to practice include about 4200 hours of clinical training. (Chiropractors, it should be noted, are very specifically not allowed to practice "medicine, surgery, osteopathy, dentistry or optometry" and may not provide "any drug or medicine" to patients; eat shit chiropractors)

However, you're correct, and both chiropractic and osteopathy are unsupported by good evidence.

I think the osteopathic stuff that osteopaths do is kind of a weird quirk that is tolerated by the medical establishment because it's unlikely to do harm and it doesn't prevent people from seeking actual medical care (because the DOs providing it should be providing medical care beyond osteopathy).

And even though the osteopathy itself is nonsense, a lot of people with chronic illnesses find better success being treated by a DO as their PCP because DOs - probably at least partially because they are trained in nonsense - are less dismissive of patients presenting with unusual or difficult-to-believe symptoms. DOs are less likely to ignore patients who come in with a stack of research from the internet and a journal of symptoms who are saying "I think I may have XYZ uncommon condition and I need treatment."

Personally I wish the osteopathy was cut out of it and there was just a branch of medicine that trained to listen to patients better than MDs do, but given that osteopathy isn't likely to cause significant harm either directly (WAY less risk of bad outcomes from gentle pressing and moving of the body than from rapid twisting and pulling of the upper spine) or indirectly (DOs can order tests, DOs can prescribe medication, DOs can refer to specialists, DOs get the same kind of comprehensive diagnostic education that MDs do) I don't have that much of a grudge against it. I see it more in the vein of "drinking peppermint tea probably doesn't actually do anything for nausea but hot drinks with honey in them feel good" area of pseudoscience than in the "chiropractor treating someone's cancer with apricot pits" area of pseudoscience. Except that they then also do real science.

It's a weird field, I'm not gonna lie! It feels very much like if you were talking to an orthopedic surgeon who was very much an orthopedic surgeon and then they sat you down for five minutes of a sound bath before your procedure. Doesn't make sense to me really, but the standards of practice that they have ("use actual evidence-based practice in addition to the osteopathy") cancel out the "okay but osteopathic manipulation is fake" of it all.

They kind of drive me crazy, and for a huge group of patients they're probably the best kind of provider. Hell, a DO might be the best kind of provider for *me* if I didn't have the most wonderful PA in the world as my PCP.

[bucktommypositivityproject]

Fundraiser Launched

Hello Bucktommy fans! I know there was very recently a fundraiser done over the holiday season. Times are tough, and I understand if it seems too soon to have yet another fundraiser. However, I felt it important to give an easy way to donate to the California Fire Foundation. This is a fundraiser through GoFundMe. Funds will go directly to the foundation.

I set the goal at $1180.

*bucktommypositivityproject is a fan project and is in no way affiliated with 9-1-1 or ABC.*

Link here

Information about the California Fire Foundation is under the cut:

Taken from their website:

The California Fire Foundation, a non-profit 501 (c)(3) organization, provides emotional and financial assistance to families of fallen firefighters, firefighters and the communities they protect. Formed in 1987 by California Professional Firefighters, the California Fire Foundation’s mandate includes an array of survivor assistance projects and community initiatives:

California Firefighters Memorial: The Foundation designed, built and maintains this unique memorial to fallen firefighters at the State Capitol in Sacramento. Every year, the Foundation holds a special, annual ceremony to commemorate the bravery of those who lost their lives in the line of duty.

Firefighters and Their Families: The Foundation supplies emergency support to departments and families of firefighters killed or injured in the line of duty through the California Firefighters Benevolent Fund and provides educational assistance to the children of fallen firefighters through the California Firefighters Endowment and Daniel A. Terry Scholarship program. The Foundation also provides grants to individuals who demonstrate financial hardship to take the FCTC Candidate Physical Ability Test or written exam, which are the recognized standards for physical and educational testing and recruitment within the fire service.

Victim Assistance: The Foundation’s Supplying Aid to Victims of Emergency (SAVE) program brings immediate, short-term relief to survivors of fire or other natural disaster throughout California. Working together with the California Fire Foundation, firefighters throughout California distribute gift cards in the amount of $250 to eligible survivors of fire or other natural disaster, so they may purchase basic necessities such as medicine, food or clothing.

Community Improvement: The Foundation supplies public safety resources, and conducts outreach and education about fire safety issues through its Firefighters On Your Side program. Additionally, the Foundation contributes to other organizations that aim to enhance and improve the communities of California.