#best long term care insurance

[epgbenefits]

Comprehensive Long-Term Care Insurance Solutions | Executive Planning Group

Get with Executive Planning Group for Long-Term Care Insurance. Contact us to explore your options and plan for your long-term care requirements.

*DISCLAIMER Executive Planning Group offers securities products through ValMark Securities, Inc., Member FINRA / SIPC. While ValMark Securities, Inc. is registered to sell securities products in all 50 United States and the District of Columbia, representatives of Executive Planning Group may only offer securities products in states where properly registered. Executive Planning Group also offers investment advisory products through ValMark Advisers, Inc., an SEC Registered Investment Advisor. The information contained herein should not be considered a solicitation or an offer to sell products or services in any state besides those in which Executive Planning Group is properly registered/licensed. Executive Planning Group, P.A. is a separate entity from Valmark Securities, Inc. and Valmark Advisers, Inc.

[enchantededition]

Strategic Insurance Choices: Unlock Financial Freedom Now

Hey there! Have you ever considered how strategic insurance choices can help you protect your finances and loved ones? Explore this idea and see why insurance is essential to your financial plan. Insurance provides a safety net during unexpected events and can be critical to your financial strategy. This guide will help you understand and evaluate the types of insurance you need and how to…

[five-thousand-loaves-of-bread]

autism awareness & autism acceptance not either or. not mutually exclusive. can coexist. need coexist.

“there enough awareness for autism already 🙄 we need acceptance”

ok. you aware of high support needs autism? aware what that even means? not “need reminder take meds need remind take shower” “high” support needs autism, but “need full physical help do bADLs lack danger awareness may accidentally hurt self or even kill self without support” high support needs autism? not just higher support needs people who can be independently online do advocacy, but those who need help from others even be online, or those who cannot be online at. all.?

aware of nonverbal nonspeaking people? not just nonverbal nonspeaking people who can write grammatically correct cannot tell apart base on writing. not just nonverbal nonspeaking people who can be online who can advocate online.

aware of nonverbal nonspeaking people who cannot communicate in way that easily understood, either for now, or ever? aware of nonverbal nonspeaking people without functional communication, aware of how without functional communication, how that drastically limit communication, even though behaviors are valid communication? aware of nonverbal nonspeaking people who may never use AAC fluently even with best support?

aware of technically verbal but very limited verbal autistics who may only able say wants & needs but not other things and certainly not online advocacy, “despite being verbal”?

aware of just how much our life depends on caregiver/carer/PCA/etc? aware how vulnerable that make us? aware of abuse from caregivers? aware of caregiver burnout from lack of support for caregivers, & how that impact our care we receive? have you even heard of term respite care? aware of those of us who cannot separate ourselves from caregiver? aware of those of us who cannot participate in autism community without caregiver?

aware of visibly autistic people? aware how we not automatically believed? aware how we often bear blunt of violence because we most easily identified target because we visible? aware visible =/= get support, aware that many those diagnosed severe who now adult so no longer qualify for services under 21 year old, languish in hospitals because nowhere to go? aware how long life saving necessary waitlists are? aware that even to this day parents have to fight school fight day service fight government fight insurance for them give their nonverbal nonspeaking child AAC & be properly taught how use it? actually, are you aware of how properly teach AAC to nonverbal nonspeaking, developmentally delayed child who may or may not have intellectual disability?

actually, aware of autistics with (correctly diagnosed) intellectual disability & how they make up big amount of autistic? aware of institutional systemic & legal impact of mental [r word] right & the human rights abuse justified using r word right? wait, you aware that r word come from old term for intellectual disability, that, actually, still in many laws because no one bothered updating, right? aware of what severe profound ID look like? and aware they real and they still human deserve education deserve life deserve care, yes?

aware of early diagnosis 20 30 or even 10 years ago, not same as now, even less resources & knowledge about autism now? aware that while gender race class 1000% impacted diagnoses, a lot of early diagnosed people early diagnosed because… they die without support unlocked by diagnosis, right? but also, aware that in old times, early diagnosis often did mean doom, not because autism bad or anything, but because severe lack of support & diagnosis can literally bar you from so many things including basic education?

aware that for many people in special education, which impact specific group of autistic people, they not get degree when graduate high school, they just get certificate, which limit their educational & employment opportunities & others?

aware of life saving importance and necessity of masking for autistic of color especially Black autistic people, despite stress inducing traumatic? aware that live in broken system be victim of hate crime & police brutality just as traumatic often even more traumatic than masking? aware that many Black & other parents of color forced to teach their child masking because of this?

are you aware of most marginalized autistic people? aware of leadership of most impacted?

aware you can and need to care about autistic experiences & form of autism you not experience? aware that you can and need to do that without try twist your experience into our experience into our words our community?

aware that advocacy goes beyond about you?

aware that you can’t speak for all autistic? aware that you shouldn’t speak for all autistic?

are you aware of when you need to stop talking & listen & amplify others? aware of when and how to decenter self?

aware that even this long post, barely scratch surface? still so much to say?

[better worded version of original post]

[12percentspider]

Do you or someone you know need insulin?

Is there someone in your inbox asking for money because clearly they don't know there's help out there? *winkwinknudgenudge say no more say no more* Well, if it's you or anyone else, here's some links to resources for almost anything you could need that relates in some way to being diabetic.

^Long, is a huge list for pretty much ANY complication you could have with diabetes in general. It does explain different kind of insurance plans, would be good for long-term needs. Seems very US based, but there may be equivalent resources in specific other countries that you could probably find with a quick search using these options as search terms. [I did link a couple of worldwide (give or take) sites below]

^US-based list of resources that cover so many different complications that can arise from being diabetic as well as some veterinary resources if your animals need care (if someone in your inbox needs it, point them in that direction?).

^ US-based, exactly what it says on the tin plus more.

Outside of US:

^ Global (mostly). Lists countries that have restrictions, but gives you an application to fill out. They check to see if you're eligible, but it could very well be worth a shot.

^Lists specific countries that have financial resources.

[total-dxmure]

✦ MARLEY AND ME →【ELLIE WILLIAMS】→ CHAPTER TWO

pairing: modern!ellie williams x single mom!reader

summary: you’re a single mom just doing the best that she can to make ends meet. ellie can’t help but think that you're the kindest, most beautiful girl that she’s ever met. compared to taking care a little girl that's in her terrible twos, coming to terms with the fact that you’re a lesbian is a walk in the park. awkward first encounters, ellie’s broken gay-dar, and her overwhelming urge to take care of the care-giver. . . the road to domesticity is a long one, but it’s well worth the pining that it takes to get there.

warnings: hella SMUT! in future chapters, eventual substance use, no use of y/n (you have nicknames/petnames), the reader is marley’s biological mother, talk of coming to terms with ones sexuality, mention of a shitty baby daddy ( though there is no co-parenting between them), ellie is a total girl mom, lots and lots of fluff, ellie is an anxious dork in this fic, reader is broke but happy, ellie takes pride in being a provider, this is going to be a multi-part fic, ellie is an absolute simp for the reader since chapter one and will remain her #1 fan.

⬶ previous chapter | next chapter ⤅

There were a thousand different ways to tell someone that you loved them.

For you, it could be found in the way that your hands shook with exhaustion after a long night at work as you reached up for the off-brand box of mac n’ cheese. You had your calculator pulled up on your phone, trying to make sure that you had just enough in your bank account for a week's worth of groceries.

Or, it could be found in the simple way that you prepared your daughter’s breakfast in the mornings. Half dead from working eight hours at the little diner, located right off of the interstate. After what felt like a never ending shift dealing with drunk patrons, the first thing you did after getting just four hours of sleep was make your daughter a bowl of oatmeal. You fixed hers the way she liked it- with fresh bananas and strawberries. Fresh fruit was expensive though. A luxury. It was something that you didn’t see yourself worthy of, not when your precious daughter loved it so much. So you stuck to a dash of milk and a few sprinkles of brown sugar, wolfing it down after going without dinner.

You were a single parent, and while your mom and step dad loved watching her while you were at work, you felt incredibly guilty that you didn’t have the extra funds to pay them back for their hard work. You had rent, power, and water to worry about. Plus your insurance bill was incredibly high because of your age, even despite the fact that you drove a car that was nearly as old as you were.

You said “I love you” every time you fed your daughter before you fed yourself. You couldn’t remember the last time you had eaten a meal while it was still hot off of the stove.

You said “I love you” when you didn’t complain. You refused to be defeated or beaten down solely because you were a young single mother. You didn’t want Marley to remember her childhood that way. So you bought her cheap toys to keep her happy. You let her wipe sticky little hands all over the few articles of clothing that you owned. You let her lay in the bed with you when she couldn’t go to sleep, despite the fact that you barely got any shut eye yourself. You carried the weight of her on your shoulders and never complained.

And above all else, you didn’t regret her for a second.

Not when her father abandoned you to do god knows what. Not when you gave birth with just your mother in the room. Not when your lights got cut off. Not when you lost most of your friends, because what young adult wants to hang out with a two year old all the time?

Marley was your pride and joy despite all of it.

So you tossed the box of mac n’ cheese into the cart when she started to reach for it and added the cost of it onto your calculator.

You looked down at your phone as you pushed the buggy aimlessly forward, not sure what else you needed to pick up. You stuck your hand into the front pocket of your overalls, leafing around for your shopping list.

“Uh. . . long time no see.”

Your head snapped up as you heard the familiar raspy voice in front of you. Your stomach did a few flips as you took in her tight fitting boot cut jeans and gray tank top. Her nose wasn’t the only thing that was splattered with freckles, but her revealed shoulders as well. Ellie had looked good in her work clothes, but there was something extra attractive about the way that she dressed in her free time. It was all about comfort and mobility. She didn’t need loads of jewelry, or even makeup for that matter, to be beautiful. You suddenly felt underdressed for the grocery store, hyper aware of the fact that you had only slapped on some mascara before running out of the house.

Your eyes flickered down to the basket she was holding, and you couldn’t help but smile at the fact that the only thing in it was a case of beer and a few microwavable meals. Her dirty, paint covered hand tightened on the handle, and she shuffled her feet before clearing her throat.

“I know I look like hammered shi-” She caught herself, her eyes widening as she noted that Marley was with you. “Poop. Hammered poop.” She corrected, motioning over her outfit.

You brushed her off with a wave of your wrist, making a small noise of denial. If she thought that she looked bad, you didn’t want to even think about how you must look in her eyes. You’d barely had time to run a brush through your wild hair before jogging out the door.

“Do you have the day off?” You asked her, putting some of your weight onto the buggy. Your daughter started to get antsy, so you reached down into the buggy and handed her the rabbit plushie she had insisted on bringing with her, only to toss it behind her the second that the two of you started shopping.

You noticed Ellie’s eyes soften as she watched your daughter hug the small stuffed creature.

“Yeah,” She looked back over at you, her eyes just as soft as they had been a second ago. Your heart began doing that funny thing. The weird pounding ache that made you feel like you were dying. “I scheduled some time off so that I could help Joel repaint the outside of his house.”

Her boots were splattered with white, and now that you were really staring at her, so was her pants. A few baby hairs were still stuck to the sides of her neck and forehead, probably from sweating in the summer sun.

“That was nice of you.” You said simply, chewing on the inside of your lip as you tried to find something else to say.

You didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, but it had been almost a week since you had last seen her, and she never had texted. You despised how sensitive you were, but you couldn’t help but see it as some sort of rejection. Maybe she had asked for your phone number instead of just giving you hers because she never planned on reaching back out at all.

“Nah, not really. He had an old Gibson lying around, so he gave it to me. That’s enough payment, I’d say.” She kicked an imaginary rock on the worn linoleum floor, trying to find a way to tell you that she hadn’t texted you because she’d been afraid without coming off as a complete pussy.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and you spoke before you could even think the question through. “Gibson? Is that like. . . food or something?”

Ellie stood there for a second, lips parting as she stared at the confused look on your face. The longer she stared, the more embarrassed you felt.

‘Oh god, that’s totally not what she was talking about.’ You thought to yourself, damn near close to slapping yourself upside the head.

She had to place the basket down so that she could brace her hands onto her knees as she laughed. You had made her chuckle a few times the other day, but nothing like this. Her smile was so beautiful, her laugh so hearty, that you forgot the reason why you were embarrassed in the first place. Her laugh was as raspy as her voice was- if not more so. It was also loud. You were sure that people could hear it all throughout the grocery store, despite the loud 80’s throwback that was blasting over the speakers. You didn’t mind if people could hear her, so long as they knew that you were the one to inspire this sort of reaction. You’d happily continue to ask the dumbest questions on the planet if it meant that you got to hear her laugh like this again.

She straightened up, shaking her head a few times as she tried to take steadying breaths.

“I-I’m sorry. . . I’m not laughing at you. That was just- that was a really cute question.” You felt the need to look away from her green eyes. “A Gibson. Like the guitar? Ever heard of one?”

You did slap yourself upside the head, then promptly covered your face with both of your hands. “Oh my god. Of course. . . Holy shit, that’s embarrassing.” You whined.

“Hey,” Ellie smiled at you again. It looked like she was really starting to come out of her shell. All it took was you embarrassing the absolute hell out of yourself. You would have done it sooner if you’d known. “No ‘S’ bombs in front of Marley.” She playfully scolded.

“Right, right. Wouldn’t want a mini sailor as a roommate.” You looked over at the child in question, rolling your eyes as you noticed the poor rabbit’s ear practically halfway down her throat. “She has an odd fascination with trying to eat things that shouldn’t be eaten.” You explained, knowing that you’d have to toss her beloved stuffie straight into the wash the second that you got home.

“I mean. . .who hasn’t eaten something that they shouldn’t have? If bubblegum wasn’t supposed to be swallowed, then why do they make it taste so good?” She stuck one of her hands into the front pocket of her jeans.

“Don’t give her any ideas. I’m sure she’s going to be one hell of a gum eater.”

The two of you took a second to just stare at each other, unsure if the lack of contact should be mentioned or not. You were the first person to break and mention it.

“So. . . I never got a text from you. Was it the caffeine addiction or the two year old that scared you away?” You said it lightheartedly, letting her know that it wasn’t meant to be taken as a jab or a judgment of her character.

Ellie swallowed hard, looking down at her shoes so that she could come up with a way to gracefully answer the question. She decided that there wasn’t a smooth way to answer.

“Neither. I was. . . uh- I was sort of scared that you wouldn’t answer me if I texted you first. I was hoping that I would run into you again.” It sounded stupid now that she was saying it outloud.

It also made it sound like she had romantic intentions. Granted. . . she had hope, but she’d be happy just to call you a friend. If that was really the case though, she shouldn’t have felt so nervous to reach out to you in the first place.

It was nice being around you. It felt effortless, and you didn’t take her ‘rough around the edges’ personality the wrong way, like most people. She would like to blame Joel for her crass attitude, but she’d been like this far before she was adopted. The two of them just happened to be more alike than she cared to admit.

“How about this: you give me your number right now, and I’ll text you when I get home.” You felt ten times better knowing that you really had just been overthinking.

You handed over your phone, and smiled as she reached out for it, starting to type her number in. She paused for a second though, realizing that she was so frazzled over seeing you again that she had forgotten the phone number that she’d had since freshman year of high school. She wondered if it would be too cheesy to put some sort of emoji after her name, and decided against it. Her contact was saved under “Ellie Williams”.

It was right to the point. No nonsense. It was so her that all you could do was smile fondly down at your phone before shoving it back into the pocket of your overalls.

You were also guilty of reading her a bit wrong. She was far more shy and anxious than you gave her credit for. It was sweet, actually. Being forward wasn’t exactly something that you were very good at these days though. Your ex had. . . ruined you, for lack of a better phrase. You hadn’t dated in years, and while most would blame the fact that you had a child, you knew it wasn’t quite that. There were nice people that didn’t care about that sort of thing. Yes, they were few and far in between, but they were out there. The second that someone showed you even a bit of kindness that crossed the boundary of friendship, you often pulled back. Or away completely.

You’d always known that you were into women. It wasn’t a discussion that you had to have with anyone in your life though, because you and your ex had dated all the way back in high school. Queer kids often have some sort of “coming out” story, but you never felt the need to. After the messy breakup you hadn’t felt the need for romance. Were you lonely? Incredibly so, but you’d rather be alone than allow your daughter to get attached to someone only for them to leave.

Now that you were older, you started to realize that maybe you had settled with a man because that was what you thought you should do. Getting married and having children was just the thing to do around here. Living in a place like Jackson, there wasn’t a ton of representation. Now that you were more experienced in the ‘life’ category, it was safe to say that you couldn’t imagine yourself settling down with a man. It wasn’t because of the trauma that Marley’s father had put you through either, it was something that had always been there.  A part of you felt guilty that it had taken you so many years to gain the courage to be yourself, but you were far too young for it to be too late.

Or so you told yourself when the anxiety started to weigh down on your heart.

“Do you eat a lot of microwavable meals?” You asked her, pointing to the basket that she had picked back up after her fit of laughter.

She flushed. Like actually turned pink. You smiled as she let out a small groan, wiping a paint stained hand over her face.

“I was hoping you wouldn’t see those,” You didn’t feel as bad for pointing them out as you should have. Not when it gave you a solid reason to see her again. “I’m super busy with work, and after a long day of being around food, I really don’t feel like cooking for just myself.”

Bingo. She’s single.

The old fluorescent light above the aisle that the two of you were currently chattering away in flickered. The both of you looked up at it simultaneously.

“Well, if you ever want a home cooked meal. . . you could always come over to my place? As long as you don’t mind watching a two year old try to use a spoon. It looks like a murder scene.” You said, eyes still locked on the light. You were really putting yourself out there, and felt too scared to see her reaction to the question.

She forgot how to breathe for a second. Was she just being pathetically optimistic, or were you asking her on a . . . very casual date?

“I would really like that.” She breathed, nodding her head to emphasize the fact that she was more than happy to come over. Toddler and all.

Most people her age would be a bit put off by the fact that you had a child, but it was a nonfactor for Ellie. She’d had almost an entire week to fantasize about you. During her routine daydreams, she recognized that she wasn’t bothered by Marley. If anything. . . it made her like you more. You were capable, and she’d like to think that you were incredibly mature. Ellie needed that in her life. She would never vocalize it, but she wanted stability. She wanted happiness. She wanted you.

You made her feel like she was in high school again, which was good. The constant stomach flops and heart palpitations didn’t feel good, but she hadn’t felt this giddy about someone since. . . well, probably forever.

“Great,” You beamed at her, and once again she felt like she might double over. Was her hands shaking? Yeah. . . they totally were. “When is your next day off?”

“Sunday.” She answered a little too eagerly and nearly winced.

“Ah, that’s great! Same here. Well, how does five thirty sound? I’ll text you my address.” You, on the other hand, didn’t care how eager you sounded.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“-and then I just. . . jogged off.” Ellie recalled, taking another drag off of the spliff before handing it over to Jesse.

She gave him a small shove when she noticed his slack jaw and narrowed eyes. He fell back against the couch, shaking his head wildly.

“No you didn’t.” He denied, hoping that his friend wasn’t that awkward.

“No, I totally did. The keys on my belt were jingling with how fast I was moving to get out of there. I forgot like. . . half of the things on my list.” She was mortified. She wanted to shrink down into a small ball and die. She was hoping that Jesse would give her some sound advice, but she should have known that he would give her major shit before going all Confucius on her.

“Oh my go-”Jesse’s barking laugh turned into a fit of coughs. Ellie wanted to think that it was the drug usage and not her retelling of the horrific events from earlier on in the day that was making him laugh so hard. He wiped at an invisible tear on his cheek, followed by a drawn out round of repeated “oooh that was good”’s.

“Help. Me.” Ellie said through clenched teeth, zipping her gray hoodie all the way up to her neck.

“Bring her flowers.” He said with a shrug, taking another long drag.

“I can’t bring her flowers, Jes! What if. . . I don’t know- what if she’s straight and I totally weird her out?” It would be a nightmare to show up with a gift like that, only to have read the situation completely wrong.

“. . . Can’t you tell if she’s gay or not? It’s not uncommon for people to realize they’re a lesbian after having kids.” Jesse’s brows furrowed as he blew off the ash from the eye of the spliff, handing it back over to her.

She took another long drag for courage before letting out a sigh, the smoke curling out from her mouth.

“I can’t. . . I can’t tell when it comes to that sort of thing.” She said lamely.

Jesse’s jaw dropped for a second time that night. Ellie sunk back into her overly-comfortable couch, pulling her hood up and over her head so that she could disappear.

“I just thought you had a thing for straight chicks this entire time,” He gasped, reaching out so that he could roughly shake her by her shoulders. “But you’re telling me that you’re a flaming homosexual and don’t have a gaydar?” He’d known her since high school, and he was just finding out? Damn. . . this entire time he thought that she must be some sort of masochist or something.

“Yes. Are you happy now? I don’t have a gaydar, and I have no clue if she’s sending me friendly signals, so I’m asking for your help.” She needed someone to spell it out to her. He’d seen you at the restaurant, afterall.

“. . . Did you happen to see her nails?”

“It’s almost like you want to get punched in the mouth.”

✦ message me about being put on the taglist!

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why not to buy tlou2 remastered (please read).

[mistypsych]

ANATOMY OF A CRIMINAL - CHAPTER 1

/ yoongi / suga / agust d /

summary: as a doctor you never expected to be dragged into “the criminal life”, nothing and no one seems to be true anymore, your whole world turns upside down after you save him.

pairings: yoongi mob boss x f.reader x non idol bts members.

warnings: smut, guns, knives, stabbings, blood, gore, murders, drugs, criminals, gang life, medical emergency, illness, abuse, swearing, angst, dubcon, gang violence, corruption, manipulation, lies, cheating - 18+ minors dni.

Note: Hi! This is an attempt of writing a fanfic long after writing anything at all. Please also keep in mind English is no longer my first language and it might be a bit rusty and odd at times but I try my best. The story is a non idol BTS fanfic with Suga being the main character. The first chapter or so there might not be a lot of Yoongi but I want the backstory to be clear. The next chapters there will be way more of him I promise! If you want to be on the tag list let me know!

You slowly stepped into the on-call room, sighing while rubbing your aching nape. The painful muscle tension was starting to turn into a headache. You sat down on the big couch and leaned your head back, instantly feeling your body loosen and sink into the soft cushions. Today was a rough day for the ER unit. The hospital was dealing with multiple trauma victims due to a horrendous bus collision. Some patients were barely banged up others unfortunately were looking like they might not make it threw the night. You were already dreading the moment you would have to talk with their family members in case the worse was to come.

The weight of the hour-less intense work and surgeries was starting to rub off on your whole body. As you were almost about to doze off, the doors slammed wide open. “What a fucking trip…” Jungkook stopped mid sentence when he saw you glare at him from under your hooded eyelids. “How many energy drinks did your pour into yourself Kook?” you said in a bit agitated tone. You were tired and running on fumes. He seemed way less strained.

The on-call room was called so for a reason. It was supposed to be a safe heaven for peace and rest. It seemed as tho people like your long time friend let those facts slip their mind. “Sorry Y/N. I did not think you were about to sleep… You looked on fire there!” scoffing a bit under your breath you mumbled “Sometimes I really doubt your capability to think at all… and yes I was lit because I had to at the moment plus I had tons of adrenaline pumping in my system. Now it’s all wearing off”. Running his tattooed hand threw the thick and shiny locks of hair he sighed in defeat. He knew your were right. At times he was way to energetic and high maintenance.

“Still good for tomorrow?” he changed the subject not wanting to get into a war of back and forth bantering. Nodding your head you hummed in agreement.

Both of you usually made plans on your days off to go out and give medical attention to those who were less fortunate. You took care of the homeless, drug addicts and poor elders that were embarrassed to seek help at the official medical institutions. Many times it was also the lack of insurance that could get very high. The two of you saw it as charity and giving back to society.

You met Jungkook at med school in the USA. He was a scholarship student that worked his way into getting the opportunity to study overseas. You were the only person at your year that was able to speak Korean due to the fact you went to Seoul during part of your high school years. So of course you were more than happy to help Kook who at times struggled with the more difficult English terms during the lectures.

Over the years you two grew close and he was the one to say you should once again go to Seoul and take up your internship there. Being an adventurous young woman the mere thought of it seemed a great idea. So here you were years later already after your internship with a secured position as one of the junior trauma surgeons and planning charity work with your friend. You already scheduled some “appointments” with your long term patients.

To be honest you preferred this type of work more than the big shot tasks at the hospital. For you medicine should focus more on helping people. The world showed you many times that if you were less fortunate or simply made some bigger mistakes in life, the cruel reality was that usually there was no way to afford medical attention and insurance. Sometimes it was also the cost of meds themselves. Those could be unbelievably high, especially when it came to rare or terminal illnesses.

You and Kookie worked with official charities that did their best to find funds for some crucial medication for the poor. Not once did you also end up saving lives of some addicts that overdosed. Usually people just let them lay on the streets and did not care to help. You could not blame them tho. The less nice areas of the city were also full of con artists and people simply did not want to risk their own lives. At times it was also the mentality of “they did it to themselves, now they need to bear the consequences”.

You were not there to judge. How could any of you know what these people went threw in life? What pushed them to “self medicate”. So you kept focused solemnly on helping those who seemed like they needed it.

You closed your eyes again trying to ignore the fact that Jungkook was rustling around with some food wrapping. “If I am to survive the last two hours of this hell shift and be of any use tomorrow I would greatly appreciate you stop making a ruckus and let me rest!” you huffed angrily, not even bothering to open your eyes. Once the room was filled with silence, a content smirk spread over your lips. At last the well deserved quiet. Sweet darkness of dreamland slowly took over your mind.

*** *** ***

Getting to your apartment after ending a difficult day at the hospital always filled you with relief. It was close to 8 p.m. Not having to work the night shift this time and having the day off tomorrow made you really happy. As you walked deeper into the hallway your nostrils got hit with a mouthwatering smell of delicious food cooking, it instantly made a smile spread on your lips. The sizzling sound coming from the kitchen meant that your fiancé was already off work as well.

He was one of the best criminal detectives in the city. You both worked hard and sometimes very long hours, but you somehow managed to keep your relationship flourishing threw all the years. Walking towards the sweet and sour smell, you saw his slim frame hovering over some pans and stirring their content. His wide slim shoulders moving under a simple black t-shirt. They matched so well with his thin waist shaping his figure into a perfect triangle.

Resting against the door frame you stared at him in awe. “Are you gonna keep looking or do you plan on saying hello?” he said in a joking tone and turned to you with a big grin that reached to his eyes. You always wondered how he could keep such a sunshine attitude while working a job full of murders, death and gore.

Pushing your back off the frame you walked to him humming and wrapping your arms around him. You rested your chin on his shoulder, breathing in his fresh scent. “Hoba… you are too good to me…” you murmured and kissed him behind the ear. The fact that after a surely long day of work for him, he was there making you both a nice late dinner made your heart squeeze.

You really appreciated having him in you life and that somehow you both were deeply involved despite having hectic and difficult careers. The saying - where there is will there is a way - always made you think of your relationship with Hoseok.

After finishing dinner and basically licking your plate clean, you turned to Hobi with a smile “I’ll take care of the dishes” you said taking the plates from the table and making your way to the kitchen. As you were about to dry off the last glass you felt slender fingers creep up your back. You turned your face a bit a small smirk twisting the side of your lips.

“I was thinking of desert…” Hoseok said in a deep voice staring straight into your eyes. “Oh yea? You want me to run down to the store and grab something?” you teased, being well aware that was not what he had in mind. The twinkling of your eyes giving away how much you were enjoying this. But your fiancé was not the type to put up with games for too long so his only response was rolling his eyes, grabbing you and lifting you up. Wrapping your legs around his waist you kissed him desperately.

Lately both of you were so busy with work, you barely had the time or strength for even watching a movie together, so you excitedly welcomed the attention he was giving you. Not bothering to make it to the bedroom you ended on his lap on the couch. Your kisses were getting wild and messy. Just as you started to grind against his growing member, your breaths getting fast and uneven, you heard the loud ring of your phone.

If it were any other signal you would chose to ignore it completely, but the ring tone suggested is was Jungkook from his “special” number in case of an emergency. “Foooor fucks sake!” you growled trying to wait out the call, still kissing and moving your hips over your fiancé. If it was just a couple rings you could try and tell yourself your friend was piss ass drunk messing around.

Much to your dismay the phone kept on buzzing “I need to take this…” you said sadly looking at Hobi who was trying to even out his excited heartbeat. “It’s ok babe” he said, he knew he could not be angry about it, usually it was him being called into some crime scene. You walked away to answer the call “You better be almost dead or something close to that to have a reason for calling me at this hour!” you hissed into the speaker.

“Y/N! This is serious. A guy needs help… he can’t get into the hospital and the wounds are beyond my expertise. I am downstairs waiting for you. I really need your fucking help. I will explain everything later” his voice was shaky and full of what seemed like fear, so you stopped your ranting right away.

You quickly ran to grab your coat “I am coming down!” closing the door on your way out you told Hoseok you might have a very late night and maybe he should not wait up for you. Taking quick strides down the stairs of your apartment building you once again were thanking the universe for the most understanding man to have chosen to exist in your life.

*** *** ***

You quickly got into Kooks car throwing your medical bag onto the back seat. “I brought all my suturing stuff in case it was really that bad…” you said under your breath still a bit irked at the fact you were driving somewhere instead of getting frisky with your lover. “You will need it. Trust me…” is all your friend said.

Turing to finally look at him you saw he was pale, his hair was messy and his forehead was beaded with sweat. He was clutching the stirring wheel to the point his knuckles were white. You never saw him so nervous, not even at the hospitals ER unit.

Driving in silence for some time you finally snapped out of your trail of thoughts and realized you made it into the shady outskirts of Seoul. Even when working on your charity missions you both never made it into the really dangerous corners of the city, so you were very surprised and felt a shiver run threw your body.

You let your questioning gaze fall to Kookie, you were about to blurt out a “what the fuck man?” but before you could, he was out of the car grabbing your bag and walking to your side. Seeing your face full of questions, he opened the car door for you looking at you seriously “It’s fine… we are fine… we need to go there” he pointed towards a dark building that looked like a hangar.

Your body involuntarily shook at the sight. You immediately thought of all the crime scenes and stories Hobi shared with you from time to time when you asked him about work. But instead of listening to your panicking mind, you decided that surely Jungkook had to know what was going on and since he said it was fine it had to be, right?

You cautiously walked behind him letting him carry your bag. Usually you would always rip it out just to show what a strong and independent woman you were. Once you walked into the building you could hear the soles of your shoes clank on the hard floor. It all started to feel like some thriller movie, the type with a bad ending. The beating of your heart was so loud you could swear Kook had to hear it. The adrenalin was rushing in your system and you were starting to feel in flight mode.

Before you could panic more, an unknown voice broke you out of the cycle “Fucking bout’ time!” a tall and strong built guy growled at your friend and then eyed you top to bottom. “This is that great surgeon? She is supposed to be better than you?” he scoffed, a look of disbelief forming on his face. “For your information I am fucking better at surgical work than most!” you snapped. You were freaked out and now some dude that looked like a typical thug was trying to insult you.

“You better not be just running your mouth hun” he smirked grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you to the next room. He basically shoved you inside and tossed your bag at you. You didn’t even know when he managed to take it from Kook. The sight in front of you was gruesome. A young male about your age was laying on some banged up table. Blood was oozing out of his stomach. His pitch black long hair was sticky, his skin pale as a sheet of paper.

“Bloody hell…” you whispered walking up to the man. You turned to look at your colleague giving him the “what do you expect me to do?! make a fucking miracle happen?!” stare. You bent over the man and checked for a pulse. To your surprise he was still alive.

Looking at his slashed abdomen you thought to yourself there is now way you can do anything in these conditions. Even if by some chance you were to manage to stitch him up, the place was far from sterile, so he would die of sepsis anyway. “He needs a fucking hospital!” you say and take your phone out to call up an ambulance.

Suddenly your cell got knocked out of your hands and fell to the floor with a loud thud. Just as your were about to scream your head off, you saw it, the end of a gun pointing straight at your forehead. “No hospitals” the tall male snarled. Now you were sure, you got into some gang business and this was not gonna go the way you want.

tag list: @wobblewobble822

[wynnyfryd]

“Stee-ee-eeve,” Robin groans miserably into the Family Video countertop, voice muffled by her folded arms. “I’m gonna get fired.”

“What? Why?” Steve gives her a sharp look, because Robin just came out of the back office after a private conversation with Keith and oh god, if Robin gets fired then Steve will have to quit, and he hates job hunting, man, he really—

Robin lifts her head, leans forward on her elbows, and says in a rushed stage whisper, “I cannot stop being a total asshole to Keith!”

Steve huffs a laugh.

“It’s not funny!” she hisses. “Our very jobs are at stake!” Her hands reach up to tug the ends of her hair into two tight fists, and her eyes go wide with worry.

Okay. Steve can be a good friend. “What happened?”

“He pulled me back there to tell me that he’s- ugh” —Robin’s face looks like she just bit into moldy leftovers— “that he’s going into his dad’s insurance business and would I like to go to lunch with him to talk about insurance? Long term care insurance, Steve!”

Steve’s cracking up by the end of her rant, because her voice has cranked up to full volume and her hands are flapping all over the place like her wrists aren’t totally screwed on right and he really just loves his best friend so much.

“Yeah, yeah, keep laughing, pal.”

“Pal?” Steve laughs.

“Whatever! Anyway, so he says all of that to me, and my stupid brain-to-mouth filter just evaporates, apparently, because I look at him and suddenly cannot contain the PFFFT noise that wants to come out of me. Only I squeeze my mouth shut too tight, so instead, I end up making this high, crunchy snort sound like kkkrkrkrht to his face!”

Tears. There are tears pouring out of Steve’s nose. He’s doubled over laughing with his hands braced on his knees, and Robin whines “oh, my god!” and thumps him right in the middle of his spine.

“Ow!”

“Stop laughing and tell me what to do!”

“Okay! Jesus! Stop thumping me!”

“No!” And now Robin’s laughing, too, unleashing a flurry of blows all over his arms and ribs with her freakishly long fingers.

“Excuse me,” the stern, quivering voice of an old woman cuts through their slap fight. They turn in unison to see a mop of tight gray curls barely peeking over the candy display. (Oh, god. Robin’s gonna spend a whole week now talking about how Sophia Petrillo came in to return a video, he just knows it.) “Are either of you two going to assist me?”

[strangebiology]

How Funding Affected my Journalism Jobs

The different places I’ve worked as a journalist, and in related fields, have all had different funding. Here are my experiences at different places–and it seems to me that grant-funded stuff is the best. 

Internship at Nat Geo

Grants sponsored both of the other interns, but not me. Nat Geo makes a lot of its money through things like books at TV.

Mine was low-paid, but probably normal for an internship in 2016? LOVED the experience. Freelance at Nat Geo afterward was MUCH better paid. $14/hour part-time. IDK how much the grant-funded interns made. 2016.

Fellowship at PBS Newshour

A grant from the National Science Foundation funded me, but PBS is state-sponsored media. Interestingly, that’s a huge red flag in China and Russia, but I found the US-funded Public Broadcasting Service very fair to its subjects. Good experience, but even worse pay, at $13/hour full-time. 2016-2017

Job at Newsweek 

Their funding is from clicks. This place was crazy bad and paid garbage. Everyone hated it and almost everyone quit, unless they were being fired for making a living wage. Some people even got fired for accurately reporting on the company itself on assignment from their editors–there was no obscuring it, that was cited as their reason for termitation. Newsweek is Hellfire and damnation. I suspect the nonsense demand for 5 stories/day/person and silly demand that we make them go viral stemmed from the following: the fact that the company primarily made its money from clicks and higher-ups didn’t appear to care about the long-term reputation of the company or its reporters, and perhaps an ego-fueled refusal to try to understand what actually got clicks. $39k/year. 2017-2018

Freelance at VOX 

Funded by clicks/ads and grants at the time, but halfway through they started a contribution campaign. The difference I noticed between VOX and Newsweek was that VOX practices were smarter and they actually paid attention to analytics and sane business practices. Also, it's much easier to qualify for and get grants if you're actually doing good journalism, so I don't believe that Newsweek's policy of "lots of garbage" was actually business-savvy in any way.

Vox was a good experience, even though I wasn’t working as a journalist, but doing SEO/social media for journalists. $35/hour, then $50/hour part-time. Then I was laid off due to the pandemic. 2019-2020

Freelance at Alzheimer's Association 

Remote, not really journalism, but I liked it anyway. Nonprofit, so, funded by donations and grants. $65/hour part-time. 2021

Job at Bay Nature

My job was entirely funded by a grant. Odd situation–I got the grant and I could bring it to any legit journalism employer. Bay Nature was supposed to contribute 40% of my salary but flexibility happened and they just paid health insurance and such. They got basically no money at all from clicks, like, pennies a year. Not much from subscriptions. They have fundraisers, and at the time, there were 3 writers/editors and 2 fundraisers on staff. Later they hired another writer whose entire salary was paid by a philanthropist, and then I’m told they got another salary funded by a UC Berkeley journalism grant program. So, like half of their editorial staff was grant-funded.

Great experience, but low pay for the Bay Area. $50k/year, all from Poynter-Koch, 2021-2022.

Freelance at Politifact

A nonprofit and they probably get lots of grants. My particular position was also funded by a grant entirely. Loved it. $250/article fact check. 2022. 

Book

REALLY love it. $50k is from MIT Press, which is a not-for-profit, and it gets some grants and endowments. Then I got $56k from a grant from the Sloan Foundation on top. 

Future? 

I also got $500 (plus gas and hotels) to attend a day of learning with a program called Investing in Wyoming’s Creative Economy, and that means I’m one of 100 people eligible to apply for 10 $25k grants for future projects. The idea is to support creatives to stay in Wyoming and have sustainable businesses here. Maybe do some art that will bring in tourists. 

_____________________

Note that a grant sort of does, and sort of doesn’t, mean free money. It means money to support a project that usually has to have a mission and a public good, like educating the public. You don’t pay these back, and the org giving the grants doesn’t require a percentage of the profits or anything. But, for instance, the $50k grant from Poynter-Koch was more like a gift to Bay Nature, so they could pay me, and I worked for a year to actually have the funds. 

However, I’m not yet convinced that there is any objectively good funding model to ensure the most fair and accurate journalism. In theory, the capitalistic ones would be the best, but the public desire to read inflammatory stories about how their political enemies are evil, or a different generation is full of idiots, adversely affected the accuracy of headlines at Newsweek IMO.

You might think that the worst funding source would be Poynter-Koch, which is a program run by Poynter and funded by the Charles Koch Institute. But neither Poynter nor Koch even asked me to tell them what I was writing, let alone try to stop me from writing it. (Poynter hosted mentor-led auxiliary groups to talk about our careers/lives and such, so the topics of our articles came up sometimes if we chose to share that.) 

Anyway, I’m thinking of writing an article on how funding models affect journalism, for better and worse. There are some high-profile examples of grant funding causing harm. But for now, the above is my experience–pretty much all good, except not enough funding sometimes. 

[squircatlies]

Here's some notes I've compiled for trans people seeking to become fear avatars:

-the flesh- classic, we all know what's going on there, body image issues, additional limbs, twisted bones, general body horror, a lot of toxic masculinity and way too many gym bros in the space. Very popular with trans people in the fandom, because it's relatable but for me it's mid at best. 5/10

-the corruption- you can transition into a cool bug of your choice or a hive and noone could tell you shit about using they/them pronouns, very accepting community, but there's no place for privacy or personal space. 7/10

-the beholding- somehow I doubt the Magnus Institute's insurance policy covers gender affirming care, but maybe you could get someone else to pay for your transition via blackmail or sugarbabying, don't be surprised if your scars open to reveal eyes though, I think body hopping via eyeball exchange is only for Jonah, but maybe you could figure it out. 6/10

-the lonely- not gonna do much for you, unless you wanna transition into mist, also you easily cut off all the bigots from your life and send anyone who tries to mess with you into the fog realm, but it's gonna be really difficult for you to get a solid support network. 4/10

-the dark- go ahead and disappear from your old life if you want to, noone's gonna find you even if they try, you could also dabble in body hopping via black goo, the religious aspect might not be everyone's vibe though. 6/10

-the end- fake your death and live your best life, you could also shed your mortal vessel or perhaps become a skeleton, no notes. 9/10

-the web- if you want to transition into a spider this one's for you, very specific, but better than corruption imo, also web binder/tucktape anyone? 8/10

-the hunt- you might transition into a werewolf, very badass, be careful not to transition into a cop though. 5/10

-the stranger- literally just steal any face you want, frankenstein your perfect skin, it's that easy. 10/10

-the slaughter- there's no place for gender in war, sorry but you're getting ptsd, not hrt. 0/10

-the desolation- you get to sculpt yourself into any shape you want, kinda like the flesh, but without all the baggage, it's gonna hurt like hell, but you'll get used to it, be trans, commit arson. 9/10

-the spiral- your gender is literally unknowable, also you might become a maze-like structure or it may become you, if you ever felt gender envy while looking at a door, this one is for you. 7/10

-the burried- if you ever slept in a binder get in the coffin, I don't make the rules. It does give you a feeling of safety and cool dinosaur fossils, so why hide in the closet when you can hide underground? 3/10

-the vast- not a lot in terms of gender affirming care, unless you get gender envy from like space or something, but you get to fly, live really long and feed your enemies to the sky. 2/10

-the extinction- noone can question your gender if everyone is dead, I guess. But also there's trash everywhere. 1/10

[uncanny-tranny]

How does one go about getting a t prescription?

How long does it take + how expensive is it?

Where would you even start, what type of doctor do you have to contact, does planned parenthood give people T prescriptions?

Sorry for the ask, I just can't access this information anywhere else

I need to start this post by saying: I - the person answering - am a USAmerican. I have no experience with getting testosterone in other countries, but I have researched other healthcare systems that are in place for trans healthcare. In my country, testosterone is a schedule III controlled substance, and you need a prescription from a doctor to legally possess it (I could rant for hours about how much I hate this, but this is the reality of how the US operates, apparently). I'll be sharing my experience since I know it best with the hopes that it helps - I am not legal or medical advice.

In many places, you will typically be referred to an endocrinologist, someone who specializes in hormones. It isn't unheard of for your primary care physician to order scripts for testosterone, but if they do, it's because they would be licensed to. Not all PCs can even prescribe testosterone in the US because it's a controlled substance.

I personally went through an online clinic in order to get my testosterone - which was needed for me because at the time, I'd had very few positive experiences with healthcare.

In terms of price, that depends on if your insurance will even cover the cost. I pay out-of-pocket, and for those paying that way, that can run (typically) between $150-$300. This also depends on what type of testosterone you plan on administering. I've found that IM injectable testosterone is cheaper than cream or gel testosterone - each method has their own pros and cons, and the prices vary drastically at times.

Planned Parenthood can be a great path for those who have the Planned Parenthood facilities that offer trans healthcare. Not all Planned Parenthood facilities will offer trans healthcare. And, indeed, I was planning on using Planned Parenthood, but the closest one that offered trans healthcare was over an hour away and later seemingly ceased offering that care, which would mean I might have had to drive three hours to the next one. That's a huge contributing factor as to why I chose a virtual clinic.

If you are comfortable with your primary care physician, you might be best helped by asking them. I'm sharing my experience, but this is by no means a comprehensive look into how you would access testosterone. Your needs, the care available, and where you live all impact how you'll get care, and the last thing I want to do is tell you to do something you can't.

[scarefox]

Ok, I gotta do it. Here is a list of BLs that imo are painfully underrated because they are not your classic BL. I enjoyed them way too much for them to be so underrated. It's a crime actually:

Dear Doctor, I'm Coming for Soul

Dr. Prakan is a well-known surgeon dedicated to saving people’s lives. However, while he is trying to save lives he is constantly visited by the last person he could ever want to see. Death will show up every day trying to take the souls of the people that the doctor is trying to save. They work for completely opposing sides. One must collect the souls of the dead, the other must save lives before they reach that state. Is it possible to fall in love with the one thing you try to avoid, and how can the love story between death and a Doctor last?

(TW: lots of hospital-typical dying and accidents)

The Pornographer (watch order: 1. The Novelist, 2. Mood Indigo, 3. Pornographer - Spring Life, 4. The Novelist: Playback, 5. Pornographer: Continued Spring Life)

Kuzumi Haruhiko is a university student. One day, he causes a bicycle accident. The accident causes novelist Kijima Rio to break his arm. Kuzumi doesn't have insurance or money to pay Kijima for his injury. Kijima then asks Kuzumi to transcribe a story he is writing. Kuzumi is surprised to learn the story is obscene.

Innocent (watch order: 1. Innocent Special, 2. Innocent, 3. (Not That) Innocent)

As a child, Zheng Yu Shi was involved in an accident so traumatic that it led to his development of a second identity. Going by the name of Noah, this second identity has grown up with Yu Shi. Quiet and very reserved with his emotions, Noah has spent years as Yu Shi’s vigilant protector. Living with Dissociative Identity Disorder, Yu Shi is used to having Noah around to take care of him. But when he meets Wu Zheng, things between Noah and Yu Shi begin to change. Aware of Yu Shi’s growing feelings for Wu Zheng, Noah takes over, using his distrust of Wu Zheng as an excuse to keep the two apart. Despite his best efforts, Noah can’t keep Yu Shi and Wu Zheng apart forever. As the relationship between Wu Zheng and Yu Shi grows, Yu Shi begins to realize that his faith in the world is slowly starting to be restored. With Wu Zheng by his side, will Yu Shi find a way to heal from the wounds he’s been carrying for so long?

(TW: child abuse, implied rape in the past)

Eien no Kinou (Eternal Yesterday)

Koichi is cheerful and popular in the class. Mitsuru is talented and not good at socializing. The two high school students are strongly attracted to each other due to their opposite personalities. However, one morning, Koichi is hit by a truck in front of Mitsuru. Koichi got up on the spot and smiled as usual, and although he was indeed "alive", his classmates gradually began to forget about Koichi's existence.

(TW: kind of major character death / undead situation)

Color Rush (S1 !! I still couldn't bring myself to watch S2 cause I love S1 too much to move on, it's one of my comfort shows and Yoo Han is a big part of that but he isn't in S2....)

Monochromatic people (known as 'Mono's) live in a world where they are not able to see colours and therefore view their surroundings through varying shades of grey, black and white. However, every Mono has a fated person (known as 'Probe's) who is able to trigger their grey-scale world into colour, inducing what is termed as a 'Colour Rush'. Yeon Woo is a Mono. He’s aware that other colours do exist but has never experienced them for himself, nor was he interested in doing so. However, Yeon Woo’s life is forever changed when he meets Yoo Han, his Probe, and experiences his first 'Colour Rush'. Terrified that he would be obsessed with Yoo Han because of Yoo Han's ability to make him see colours, Yeon Woo tries to avoid Yoo Han, but why does Yoo Han insist on drawing close to him?

(TW: depressed main, suicide attempt)

Love Tractor

Seon Yul, a temporarily relocated city man, meets Ye Chan, a rural man who adores the countryside. Seon Yul comes to the countryside to experience life knowing nothing about farming and Ye Chan appears before him. As Seon Yul learns to adapt to rural living and engage in farming activities, he becomes increasingly attracted to Ye Chan's sincerity and enthusiasm. Together, the two embark on a chaotic and romantic countryside journey of healing and love.

Nobleman Ryu's Wedding

On a warm spring day during the Joseon Dynasty, the wedding of Ryu Ho Seon and his beautiful bride, Hwa Jin, takes place. But come their wedding night, Ho Seon becomes suspicious of his beloved. And with good reason, for his bride is a man! And now Ho Seon finds himself face-to-face with the bride’s brother, Choi Ki Wan, who explains that Hwa Jin’s loathing of political marriages drove her to disappear before the ceremony even began. Needless to say, Ho Seon quickly tries to annul the marriage, but his ailing mother is opposed to such a move. The pair must now maintain their union, one that can never be revealed to a single soul! When Kim Tae Hyeong, comes to congratulate his friend Ho Seon, he falls for Ki Wan and immediately commences to court him. Now both Ki Wan and Ho Seon find themselves in a difficult position. Caught between honouring his ailing mother’s wishes and the unending flood of love letters for Ki Wan, Ho Seon is only too aware that there is little time to waste. To further complicate matters, Hwa Jin chooses to make her impromptu return at this time. The only way to soothe the pain in everyone’s hearts is to return everyone to their rightful places. But is this easier said than done?

The Miracle of Teddy Bear (bear with me this might sound nuts (haha 2 puns in a row) but this is actually a crime mystery)

Taohu is a giant white teddy bear and has been Nut's object of comfort for ten years. However, he isn’t an ordinary teddy bear, he has the ability to communicate with other objects and items in the house. One day, unbeknownst to Nut, the teddy bear was miraculously turned into a young man, however, that young man can't remember anything about himself. Taohu tried to find his own background, but everything became complicated when he found out that his background was connected to the dark secrets of his owner's family. He had to hurry because his time as a human is running out and he wanted to discover the secrets of his background so much, but he also wanted to be closer to the person he loved the most. Will Taohu be able to find the answers to his questions and reveal all the secrets he wishes to know? And would there be another miracle that may allow him to fulfill his wish?

(TW: mentally ill mother, abusive parent, death, murder attempt)

Something in My Room

Phat just moved into a new rental house with his mother. There, he meets Phob, an amnesiac ghost, and has to help Phob solve the mystery of his death within forty-nine days of Phob's death. Will they succeed?

(TW: horror elements, suicide, cancer, death of a parent)

I Will Knock You

Thi, a college student, had a part-time job as a tutor. One day, one of his students got into trouble with high-school gangsters. Thi went to protect his student and confronted the leader of the gang, Noey. After that day, Thi ran into Noey so many times, he started to learn that although Noey had a badass look, the boy was ridiculously silly. Noey just came up by himself that Thi was running after him. Thi was so done trying to explain that he had zero interest in him, but fate played funny tricks. Thi was contacted to be a tutor for a new student. That student was Noey. They learned more about each other. Noey started to change himself and made a move on Thi.

(TW: cringefail4cringefail ... lol)

My Ride

This is the story of Mork and Tawan, a motorcycle taxi driver and a medical resident in Bangkok hospital. While they might seem to come from different worlds, one day they meet by chance when Tawan hires Mork to take him across town. This first ride leads to another and another, and soon Mork finds that he can't stop thinking about the handsome doctor. Meanwhile, Tawan also feels drawn to Mork, and an unlikely friendship is born. Might it lead to more?

3 Will Be Free (polyamory m/m/f)

Neo is a stripper who is running away from the loan shark Thana and his gang, after having an affair with Thana's wife Vanika. One day, the criminals find him in the bar where he works. In attempting to escape, he ends up bumping into two people who will change his life: Shin, a gay boy, the son of Thana, who is frustrated at being rejected by a friend; and Miw, the manager of a gogo bar who is running away from her past. Accidentally, they end up killing one of the gang members who was chasing Neo, which makes them enemies of the gang. Now all three need to find a solution to escape from this situation together, while at the same time managing the physical and sentimental attraction that arises between them.

(TW: attempted rape)

Bed Friend

When it comes to work and the relationships he maintains with his coworkers, Uea Anol gets along well enough with almost everyone. But there is one very big exception and his name is King Kunakor. Good friends with his best friend Jade, King is the one man at the office that Uea simply cannot stand. A cocky Casanova with a serious reputation, King is everything Uea hates in a man. But when a company outing ends in a drunken hook-up with the one man he can’t stand, Uea begins to see King in an entirely different light.  Initially planning to move on after their one-night fling, Uea and King agree to keep seeing each other on a strictly physical basis. With no strings attached, will these two be able to keep things between them simple and carefree or will their emotions eventually get the better of them?

(TW: attempted rape, homophobia, bad coping, MDL comments are dumb af about this one so don't go there)

Utsukushii Kare (My Beautiful Man)

Seventeen-year-old Hira, who is at the bottom of the class, tries to remain invisible at school, never wanting to open his mouth and expose his stuttering speech to his classmates. He views the world through his camera lens, detached until one day, Kiyoi Sou walks through the classroom door. The impact is instantaneous. Hira finds himself pulled into Kiyoi's gravity, following him everywhere and attending to his every need. Popularity comes easily to beautiful Kiyoi, who is always surrounded by his classmates. He uses his status to get what he wants, ordering around the boy who stares at him with his big eyes and seems to worship him like a god. Hira contents himself to merely exist within Kiyoi's orbit, asking for nothing in return…

(TW: bullying, amok shooting fantasies, MDL comments are dumb af about this one so don't go there)

[fostercare-expat]

My younger daughter has a classmate over at our house right now. This friend happens to be in foster care, but I’ve never had any conversations with her about it. Randomly the friend just said “[Daughter’s Name] is adopted.” I said, “Yes, she is. She used to be in foster care before she was adopted.” The girl said “Oh, like me. I’m in foster care. My Auntie (what she calls her foster mom) says that I can get out of foster care when I’m 21!”

Sadly the system here doesn’t continue to provide the stipend or health insurance coverage if a foster family adopts the child. So it’s a huge disincentive to adopt. Heartbreaking to think that this 9 year old girl is “looking forward” to aging out of the system 12 years from now.

From what I’ve picked up from her foster mom, she doesn’t have visits with biological family so reunification isn’t looking likely. I just hope her foster family is committed to the long term even without adoption. She’s currently jumping in the pool and laughing her head off. She deserves the very best the universe has to offer.

[dross-the-fish]

I saw your LO post and something stuck out to me. Most people focus on Hades as a love interest but you made the case that Persephone isn't wife material and I wondered if you could elaborate on that.

I presume you're talking about this post.

I stand by what I said.

This pink teenager isn't wife material, no adult over the age of 25 should look twice at her. This is because this character is functionally a child.

She's technically the physical equivalent of 19 but feels alarmingly younger than that because of her background and upbringing. Hades is supposedly in his 40's and has a full time job and his own assets. At my age and current life stage I'm actually a lot closer to where he's at than I am where she is and I cannot fathom what her appeal would be to anyone outside of her age group.

What is the allure? Is it the way adding her as a household driver would skyrocket someone's car insurance? Is it the way they'd pretty much be guaranteed to have to finish raising her? Instead of coming home after busting your ass at work and having another grown-up to talk to, you'd have to go through the emotional labor of having to play parent/teacher to this child who probably doesn't know how to write a resume and has never had to experience the mental, physical and financial burden of running a household. If you were to date someone like Persephone you'd have to be ok with never getting any kind of mental, emotional, or financial reciprocity because she's not equipped to function in an adult relationship as an equal partner.

That's a HUGE thing and when you get to be my age you will care about these things a lot more than you care about the frivolous "dating" elements that tend to be the focus of younger people's relationships.

Persephone would be incapable of relating to a character like Hades in any meaningful way and while it's cute, I guess, that she's "nice", nice isn't enough of a foundation to build a long term relationship. Due to her lack of age and experience she's not capable of giving advice or even actual comfort if someone had to come to her with typical adult concerns. At best she'd maybe be able to give empty sympathy and, I'll tell you right now, empty sympathy gets old fast.

A very long time ago I dated someone who was my age but at a totally different phase of life and it was a huge mistake. I'd try to talk to her about my job or an apartment I was considering renting and she'd just give me this glazed look like I was speaking another language. The only things I could talk to her about were media or college so when I needed to talk to another grown-up about the very real things I was going through (feelings of inadequacy at my job, concern over financial stability, finding affordable housing) I had NO ONE, because she had never had to worry about any of those things and couldn't comprehend how serious these concerns were. I think the last straw was when I wanted to go do something and she had to ask her parents for money and permission first.

We were both 22 and I had already had a job and my own car for 3 years and the idea of asking my parents for money or permission to do anything seemed ludicrous.

To be clear I don't blame her for that, everyone grows at a different rate and some people get to certain stages later than others, but it did really highlight that this wasn't a person I should continue to date and not someone I could ever feel like I was on equal footing with because she still lived and behaved like a teenager. We were the same age, but sometimes I felt like I was taking on a role that should have been filled by her parents and nothing kills a romantic mood like feeling like the only adult in the room is you.

So yeah, someone like Persephone shouldn't even be trying to start serious relationships, she should be learning how to navigate through life with her peers, people who are also still learning crucial life lessons. But that's not what's going to happen. There's something incredibly gross about the fact that the one who's going to have to teach her how to be a functional adult is the 40 year old man who's eventually going to marry her.

[bluedalahorse]

Updates below the cut, as I expressed the story of yesterday in somewhat comedic terms, but I’m sure the subtext was concerning.

So yesterday I went into work under a lot of stress about the various deadlines I have to meet. I also noticed I was developing an ear infection. I get those a lot because I have tiny ear canals and sometimes with congestion from fall allergies the whole ENT system gets fucked up. As such I know what an ear infection feels like, so I figured I’d leave work early, go to the urgent care down the road, get some antibiotics, and go home to rest and meet my writing deadline.

Well, I went to the urgent care and after waiting three hours or so they were like, you have an ear infection but your blood pressure is super high, and we need to send you to the ER to lower it. (I have a family history, and with the amount of stress I’ve been under lately, I imagine genetics decided it was time to kick in.) I was freaking out at that point because I hadn’t had dinner yet, and what they were talking about sounded like… idk, how long was I gonna be in the hospital? Forever? And that shit is expensive even with insurance, so, you know.

So I asked if I could call @coruscantrhapsody to come get me. I knew I needed to go to the ER but also that I didn’t want to go, and that I would try to get out of it because I was scared and tired and yet try to make myself appear competent at all costs. I also knew she could convince me to go. So she came to me at the urgent care right away, and she brought plush Sara and plush August, and we made plans to go to the ER together.

And honestly, she got me through it like a champ. We coped through silly jokes and dark humor, and a little bit of singing of Disney songs. When the nurse took my blood sample (which came back in good shape, thankfully) she said it was totally appropriate for Halloween. Then she got me home before midnight and now is working from home today while I stay home. I’ll probably be taking tomorrow off too. I’m going to walk to the pharmacy soon to pick up the meds they prescribed me and then I’m going to come back home and not deal with logistics until the afternoon at least.

I still have some deadlines to meet, but they’re going to be shifting now and I think I can get some extensions for the stuff I need to get extended on. And I think this is the basis of a conversation with my employer about like. Idk. I woke up today 95% grateful for the people who love and care for me and who helped me out yesterday, and I’m also grateful that I lucked out with doctors and nurses that night because the medical system is honestly terrible, but 5% of me is like Fuck The Grind that got me here. You know? And I can sort of bookmark that idea and come back to it when I’m ready. Which I will do. But first, it is time to rest. I can deal with everything else after I rest. And I got home in time to listen to the old War of the Worlds radio play tonight and enjoy it, and that’s incredibly important to me.

Tl;dr I spent an evening in the emergency room last night, hooked up to machines and holding an August Horn plushie in my lap, but I’m ok now thanks to my best friend’s care and all-around amazingness.

[markrosewater]

It’s really disheartening to hear so many people nonchalantly ask or suggest if Limited should be shelved. (I understand this was never WOTC plan). I get they may not like the Play Booster change, but to suggest eliminating the source of happiness for myself and others, it smacks of zero empathy from my community. I would ask those people to really think about how what they are advocating for impacts others. Do they really want to take away my whole experience to avoid a change to theirs?!

R&D (and Wizards as a whole) understand the importance of limited and all of our actions were insuring that it didn't go away. We recognize there is a substantial audience that cares about it.

As for the larger community, it's true that a lot of people see Magic through the lens of how they play, and don't truly grasp that what makes the game special to them is very different from what makes the game special to other players.

My best guess is that some interpret draft boosters not be sustainable long term to there not being a big enough of an audience, which isn't true, but I get how you could make that assumption. The market is weird in a lot of ways and can do things that aren't necessarily logical if you don't understand all the nuances of it.

[jadewing-realms]

on a moonlit stage - astarion oneshot

surpriiissseee i wrote another thing!

Fandom: Baldur's Gate 3

Title: On A Moonlit Stage

Characters: Astarion; Naven Tlin'orzza/Tav

Pairing: Astarion x Tav

Word Count: 2636

It’s a tale as old as time: salacious vampire meets gullible fool. Astarion knows the script backwards and forwards, but he swears on everything he knows this is going to be the last time. The last time he grovels at someone else’s feet. The last time he bows. It’s for his own protection, he tells himself. It’s insurance. The fact that the drow bard is frustratingly handsome as he is naive is an afterthought.

TW: allusions to sexual themes and SA

_______________

There was something uncomfortable, heavy, dense, settling in the pit of Astarion’s stomach. It was miserably distracting. It didn’t seem to matter how many gulps the vampire took of the tart, chalky excuse for red wine that the devilkin had proffered as party favors, it didn’t – couldn’t – drown out that cursed feeling. Instead, all it served to do was add to it and sour his mood even more.

Oh, he kept it from his face of course, as was expected. He froze his practiced mask in place, grinned when appropriate, nodded, winked, and gave theatrical bows to the stream of people who were determined to thank the entire party for the great, selfless work they had done. The goblins were vanquished! The Grove saved! So many cheery faces. So many boisterous voices and empty words, so much bad wine and tasteless food.

‘Our heroes,’ they kept calling them all. ‘Courageous.’ ‘Warriors.’ ‘Right decent folk.’ It made him want to spit their peasant liquor at their feet. 

Ignoble fools, all of them. Heroes didn’t exist, and if they did, this group of freaks certainly weren’t them. Only Wyll – local hero as he was – had truly wanted to help these people; the rest wanted only the kidnapped healer’s skills; saving the tieflings was a convenient bonus. Astarion hadn’t even cared about that, set as most of the party was on getting rid of their little cranial stowaways rather than using them, common sense be damned.

Nobody else seemed to have any problem accepting the shallow jubilance and praise, either. Least of all their new permanent companion, Karlach, who was beaming bright as the bonfire. The red tiefling made up for her inability to mingle without roasting the skin off anyone unfortunate enough to bump her arm by shouting her greetings, waving high, laughing low and loud; and when their illustrious leader – that arrogant, guileless sucker that was drow bard extraordinaire, Naven fucking Tlin’orzza – whipped out his lute and strummed up a jaunty little tune for the mood, Karlach trumpeted the lyrics louder than everyone else. Astarion was sure he heard the frantic flutter of feathered wings as it set alight a few poor evening doves roosting in the trees. 

The whole affair was as sickly and saccharine as the bottle he nursed. Perhaps Wyll had the right idea, wandering off to the riverbank as he had; perhaps Astarion could simply steal away. Go on a hunt. Get something out of the night. 

The thought reminded him that he’d already made previous arrangements for the hours to come. Plans with the aforementioned drow. He almost grimaced past the next draught of wine.

Gods, he’d be glad when the whole song and dance was over. The drow was insufferable, naive as he was aloof, painfully polite, and a terrible conversationalist unless there was an audience to entertain. He also got along far too well with their resident wizard of hubris for comfort, and the two engaged in regular pontifications that went on for far too long and contained far too many obscure terms no one else could understand. He was also constantly sticking his nose into everyone else’s business, asking about their lives and histories and secrets…

On top of it all, he was either a liar and a charlatan equal to any of Cazador’s best thugs, or he genuinely believed in the do-gooder bullshit he spouted. Astarion couldn’t decide which was worse at this point. The only positive thing Naven had going for him in Astarion’s book was that he was the only one who seemed interested in taking advantage of the tadpoles in their brains for the power they provided.

Well, and he was easy on the eyes. But that, of course, was a requirement.

It didn’t really matter whether he liked him or not, though. Somehow the drow had wormed his way into everyone else’s trust, despite everything, and that made him the most important person to have on Astarion’s side if he didn’t want to wake up staked to the ground one of these nights. 

It hadn’t taken much; it never did. A few well-spoken words, shallow compliments; a brush of a hand here, a hooded glance there. If he’d done it once, he’d done it a thousand times. Carnal lust was always so easy to invoke, mortal feelings like clay beneath the hands of a skilled artisan. Naven was practically in his pocket at this point and tonight was sure to cement his position nicely. 

Second to the man in charge. An auspicious match indeed. 

Over the rim of the bottle, his gaze slid across camp, to the little ring of bystanders gathered around the music makers. Naven, the court jester tiefling, and even that fool Volo, the music flowed from them, honey on the air. 

They… weren’t half bad. As far as music went. It was no symphony or opera, that was for certain, but they had a folkish charm to them at least. And they stole the attention from everyone else, which gave the odd pit in Astarion’s belly a chance to fade.

Until the drow’s gaze rose to meet his. Golden eyes caught firelight and moonlight both at once, a broad grin split his face through the words he sang, and Astarion almost choked on his drink.

Was that… a smile? A real smile, the first he’d seen on that man’s face? He had to pause, think back, skim his memories from the day they met to the present, and he couldn’t actually recall a single moment he’d seen… that smile. Oh, there’d been little glimpses, quirks of his lips, placating smirks or bewildered half-grins. Never teeth, never so strong it wrinkled the dusky skin at the corners of those eyes. Never something so… radiant.

Gods damn this drow. Of course he would have a gorgeous smile hiding under the pomp and intellect. How infuriatingly unfair! Astarion hadn’t been aware dark elves could smile. 

It lingered, too, as did that burning gaze. For the sake of appearances, Astarion didn’t let himself look away. He shifted his weight, let the lines of his body do the talking, knocked back the bottle and slowly, deliberately downed the last of the liquor, swiped his lip with his thumb once it was gone. All the things he knew would have the drow looking at all the right places.

The smile dimmed to something softer, something… fond. 

He couldn’t be serious. 

A patronizing play, perhaps; Naven had mentioned having been an actor before all this. Astarion had watched him charm his way through a horde of goblins without trouble, behaving by all accounts like these True Souls they couldn’t shut up about, never giving anything away. Every word, every glance, it could be nothing more than an elaborate facade.

They were both playing the same game. But when it all came down to the wire, a vampire would always play it better. If only for the centuries of practice.

Though… he didn’t actually know how old Naven was. The way he behaved, the way he trusted, surely he had to be fresh off his Naming. But then again, there were those creeping lines under those eyes of his, the barest hint of creases striking through the tasteful tattoo on his forehead. It could be age, or it could be… well, grief.

The pit was coming back, and the wine had done absolutely nothing. He shouldn’t have expected anything else. It had been two-hundred years since blessed inebriation came to him from a bottle. He recalled the night he’d drained the bear, the absolute euphoria he felt afterward. What he’d give to engorge himself again now, before his moment came. Before he knelt at the feet of another for the last fucking time, and laid the last nail to the emotional coffin lid. It’d certainly make it easier to get through if he could be drunk as the Hells.

But alas. Would that the gods could be so kind. They weren’t. He could only sling the empty bottle to the side for its personal offense to him, where he didn’t even get the satisfaction of watching it break. It simply rolled across the dirt and clinked to a stop against a stump. He pouted at it for good measure. It did nothing more.

It had to be better if he took his leave now. The party would wind down before long, he wagered. He needed to be in place, ready and waiting, properly alluring, for when his quarry came looking for him. 

He gathered what he knew he would need in a pack. Then, steps composed but quiet, he idled backward, away from his tent, into the treeline. He slipped from the edges of camp without the notice of a single soul and plunged into the darkness beyond the fire’s light. His eyes and light feet, used to the shadows, made entering into them easy as breathing.

The long walk that followed, that was another story entirely. Stumps and dirt and grass and stones made what might’ve been a leisurely stroll into a struggle that no amount of shadow could ease. Roots snagged his boots. Branches clawed at his face. Bloody nature! He grew more and more weary with it each passing day, each night he laid his head on a pack draped in a blanket instead of a pillow. 

He missed proper beds. He missed private baths and locked doors and armchairs. He missed… the city.

The city meant the clan, though. The clan meant Cazador. Cazador meant… He stopped, shaking the creeping memories from his skull. Flashes of blood and bile, hunger pangs, the pitch black of a closed coffin. A ripple of discomfort seared across his back. 

“No! That’s enough of that.” The words left him without permission, murmured to no one but his own mind and the deepening night. He shoved the memories down, down to that blasted pit in his gut. He was far, far from Baldur’s Gate. Far from his reach. He strode deeper into the night, imagining each step as another one further from those long-reaching arms. 

This is mine! All of this. My night. My mind. My choice! No one was ever going to take this away from him, not with freedom in his hands, at long last.

His feet had stopped again, and that wouldn’t do. 

He needed to find a place for tonight. The perfect place. Yes, somewhere properly… romantic. Ideally, in the cradle of two luscious trees, with the moonlight beaming down just so. Mortals did adore when their lovers waxed poetic to them beneath the moon.

Ah… he needed something to say. Just the right thing.

He found a deer path and began to follow it, keeping his steps close together to avoid any sudden obstacles in the gray landscape. The trade-off for the gift of night sight, of course, was that he wouldn’t be able to take color into consideration when picking his spot. But then, neither would a drow. Double negative makes a positive and all that. 

His gaze wandered aimlessly as he went, and he let his mind go with it. “What to say… I’m thinking literary. He seems an educated man.”

Some classics, perhaps. ‘Doubt thou the stars are fire’ sort of thing. Yes, that could do nicely. Everyone loved that one. It had been a while since he recited it, too; he practiced a few stanzas to test the rhythm and rhyme on his tongue and when it didn’t sound quite perfect enough, he tried again. And again, and so forth, until he began to hear the rippling of water nearby.

He’d circled back to the edge of the river, it seemed. Which wasn’t a terrible thing; the serenity of the sound would only add to the desired ambiance. He kept it just out of sight.

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks. Something in his gut told him right here… it felt close. Eyes narrowing, he raised a hand, thumb out at an angle like the corner of a frame, and he swiveled across the trees that surrounded him. He needed just the right spot…

There. Two grand oaks standing side by side, framing a small clearing, moonlight streaming down in divine shafts. It was no mansion bedchambers, but it would do.

He winced, immediately regretting the comparison. Now he was thinking of Baldur’s Gate again. Of his service room. Of Cazador.

“This isn’t for you!” he spat to nobody. Skin immediately crawling, he spun a quick circle, just… to make sure. He was alone. “This is for me! Me.”

He raked his fingers into his hair, distracting his mind by making sure not a single strand was out of place. He had to be perfect. Everything had to. Like a dream. When all was said and done, that drow needed to leave this place so enthralled, he couldn’t bear for Astarion to leave his side ever again. Then Astarion would never have to worry about Lae’zel getting a bit stab-happy if he smirked at her wrong, or Wyll living up to his status as a monster hunter if the mood so took him. Not unless they wanted to face the wrath of their beloved man with the plan.

So it was decided. This was the place. He stepped between the two trees, gave one trunk a light pat before he rid himself of his shirt and shoes. The grass was satisfyingly cool beneath his toes. A breeze whispered through the summer leaves and he paused folding his clothes, just to watch them dance.

It… really was a nice spot.

Getting here had been an absolute drag, no doubt; the Great Outdoors were not his natural habitat and never would be, but he couldn’t deny that when he didn’t have to trudge through knee-high brush or duck under rudely low-hanging boughs or wave bugs out of his face or watch for animal scat… well. It was peaceful enough.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This moon felt much kinder than the one he knew before. She was soft. Soothing. The night’s watchful guardian, shining silver just for the bards that might look up and write of her beauty. Or for anyone.

Back in the city, the moon was simply a hollow sun for the likes of him and his ‘siblings.’ They couldn’t have the real thing, so they settled for experiencing a world that was only half what it should be. Add to that the fact that the moon could not penetrate the deep, dark alleyways of the city where vampires best hunted, and it was never a friend of theirs.

Strange, to find it so different now. 

Then again, everything was. Everything except for the scars on his back; his permanent reminder. And he still didn’t know what they said.

Absently, he reached a hand back to trace his fingertips over the raised edges like he’d done countless times. They felt so terribly pronounced, so… ugly. A hideous presence amongst such serene midnight perfection.

Would… Naven notice them?

“Hello?” a distant voice called. Louder than it usually was, but still familiar after traveling together so long. The man himself, come to join him at last. “Astarion, are you… close by?”

Astarion’s hand fled from his back. His stomach seized again and he wished he had wine to pretend to drown it with. He took one last deep breath and the way it stuttered would have made him scowl, were he not already schooling his features into the very picture of debonair charm.

“Over here, darling,” he called back, taking his place behind the tree, readying words in his mind for the moment his companion came into view. “Just a little closer.”

It was time to play his part again.

But the pit never went away.