#senior social network

[evergreenclub991]

15 Famous Temples in India Everyone Should Visit

India is known for its temples — beautiful, serene places of worship — significant religious and historic landmarks.

These ancient, intricately designed, and faithfully maintained places of worship are a must-visit for devotees and for all those who nurture an interest in history and architecture. Here are the fifteen most famous temples in India.

1. Golden Temple, Amritsar

Also known as Harmandir Sahib, this gorgeous temple is the holiest place of worship for the Sikh religion, and one of the most famous temples in North India. Built in the mid-15th century on the banks of a man-made lake in Amritsar, this temple’s golden facade and religious significance are a huge draw, and see devotees and tourists alike, arrive at its doors throughout the year in significant numbers.

2. Tirupathi Balaji, Tirumala

Officially known as the Venkateshwara Temple, this hill-top temple is dedicated to Lord Venkateshwara, who is a manifestation of Lord Vishnu. This temple, along with its beautiful infrastructure, also has the distinction of being the richest Hindu temple in the world.

3. Maa Vaishno Devi Temple, Katra

Located in the foothills of the mighty Himalayas in Jammu and Kashmir, Vaishno Devi is one the most important temples in India. Lakhs of devotees undertake the pilgrimage to this temple every year to pay their respects to Goddess Vaishnavi, the patron deity of this temple.

Reaching the temple requires a 12 km trek. Devotees have multiple options ranging from walking to riding a horse or even a helicopter among others to get to the top.

4. Jagannath Temple, Puri

One of the oldest temples on this list, Jagannath Puri dates to the 12th century and is a temple dedicated to Lord Vishnu. Apart from being a spectacular architectural edifice and one of the char dhams of Hindu religion, it is also famous for the elaborate rath yatra it hosts every year.

5. Meenakshi Temple, Madurai

The Meenakshi Temple took its current, grandiose form in the 12–13th century, but it has been a place of worship for much longer than that. Located in the heart of Madurai, this sprawling temple is dedicated to Goddess Meenakshi (an incarnation of Parvati). Its wide hallways are always packed with devotees, and the three-storey gopuram or entrance tower over its gate is exceptionally iconic.

6. Ramnathswamy Temple, Rameshwaram

Located off the coast of India on the Pamban Island, this is another temple that is part of the holy char dham. The temple was built in its current form in the 12th century. Dedicated to Lord Shiva, this is one of the most famous temples in South India.

7. Virupaksha Temple, Hampi

This famous temple can be found in the UNESCO World Heritage temple town of Hampi in Karnataka. The temple is dedicated to Lord Virupaksha, an avatar of Lord Shiva, and dates to the 7th century. One of its most significant elements is its nine-storey gopuram which is nearly 165 feet in height. Steeped in a legacy of tradition and surrounded by relics from ancient times, this temple is the jewel in one of India’s most significant historical crowns.

8. Kashi Vishwanath Temple, Varanasi

This famous temple is one of the most attractive places of worship in the holy city of Varanasi. Situated on the banks of the River Ganga, Kashi Vishwanath is dedicated to Lord Shiva. The temple is also located right next to the Dashashwamedh Ghat, arguably the most significant ghats in the area. The renowned Ganga Aarti takes place here every evening.

9. Badrinath Temple, Uttarakhand

In the town of Badrinath, surrounded by the Garhwal Hills you will find the Badrinath Temple. Third of the char dhams on this list, Badrinath Temple is dedicated to Lord Vishnu. Its stone fascia and shimmering gilded roof make it one of the most recognisable temples in India. The momentous Mata Murti Ka Mela is celebrated at this temple as well.

10. Lingaraja Temple, Bhubaneshwar

Lingaraja Temple is one of the oldest temples in Bhubaneshwar and one of the most sizeable temples in town too. The temple’s main tower is 180 feet tall, and the origins of this ancient Indian temple date back to the 700th century.

11. Konark Sun Temple, Konark

This legendary temple favours Surya, the sun god, and hosts the famous Chandrabhaga festival in February every year. A good 100 feet tall, this temple was built to look like a chariot back in the year 1250. Though it has suffered some damage and deterioration, it is still a magnificent structure to visit.

12. Dwarkadeesh Temple, Dwarka

Another one of the char dham, this temple dates back over 2000 years. Lord Krishna is the revered deity here, and the primary shrine is a five-storey building built on 72 pillars. Legend states that this temple has been built on the very site of Lord Krishna’s mythical palace.

13. Brihadeeshvara Temple, Thanjavur

Another temple that’s located in the south Indian state of Tamil Nadu, Brihadeeshvara is an icon of the Chola Dynasty. This temple is ancient too, built way back in the period spanning 1003–1010 AD. You will also find one of the largest Shiva lingam in India within this temple.

14. Padmanabhaswamy Temple, Thiruvananthapuram

In the capital of Kerala state you can find the storied Padmanabhaswamy Temple. The city of Thiruvananthapuram actually gets its name from this temple, dedicated to Lord Anantha. Another interesting fact about the temple is that the Royal Family of Travancore has always been entrusted with its care.

15. Somnath Temple, Saurashtra

Another temple found in Gujarat, Somnath is an ancient place of worship. So much so that historians have been unable to trace how long ago the first temple was established at this site. The temple has been destroyed and rebuilt a few times in its history, with the latest iteration being put in place in 1951, and has become one of the most famous Hindu temples in India since.

Read the more amazing blog on the Evergreen Club website blog section, an online community for senior citizens.

[topinformation41]

Social networking for seniors in India: LifeLineSr online community is designed specifically for 50-plus seniors in India, allowing you to stay in touch with friends and family. https://lifelinesr.com/

[dipnots]

How to be a Social Person!

Having strong social connections is essential for our well-being. Studies have shown that people with good social support have better mental and physical health, and are more likely to be happy and successful in life. But building strong social connections can be difficult, especially if you’re shy or introverted. Here are five tips for building strong social connections: Be open to new…

[probablyasocialecologist]

A system of ancient ceramic water pipes, the oldest ever unearthed in China, shows that neolithic people were capable of complex engineering feats without the need for a centralized state authority, finds a new study by University College London researchers. In a study published in Nature Water, the archaeological team describe a network of ceramic water pipes and drainage ditches at the Chinese walled site of Pingliangtai dating back 4,000 years to a time known as the Longshan period. The network shows cooperation among the community to build and maintain the drainage system, though no evidence of a centralized power or authority. Dr. Yijie Zhuang (UCL Institute of Archaeology), senior and corresponding author on the paper, said, "The discovery of this ceramic water pipe network is remarkable because the people of Pingliangtai were able to build and maintain this advanced water management system with stone age tools and without the organization of a central power structure. This system would have required a significant level of community-wide planning and coordination, and it was all done communally." The ceramic water pipes make up a drainage system which is the oldest complete system ever discovered in China. Made by interconnecting individual segments, the water pipes run along roads and walls to divert rainwater and show an advanced level of central planning at the neolithic site. What's surprising to researchers is that the settlement of Pingliangtai shows little evidence of social hierarchy. Its houses were uniformly small and show no signs of social stratification or significant inequality among the population. Excavations at the town's cemetery likewise found no evidence of a social hierarchy in burials, a marked difference from excavations at other nearby towns of the same era. But, despite the apparent lack of a centralized authority, the town's population came together and undertook the careful coordination needed to produce the ceramic pipes, plan their layout, install and maintain them, a project which likely took a great deal of effort from much of the community. The level of complexity associated with these pipes refutes an earlier understanding in archaeological fields that holds that only a centralized state power with governing elites would be able to muster the organization and resources to build a complex water management system. While other ancient societies with advanced water systems tended to have a stronger, more centralized governance, or even despotism, Pingliangtai demonstrates that was not always needed, and more egalitarian and communal societies were capable of these kinds of engineering feats as well.

[countdown-if]

"Countdown" is a slice-of-life inspired by "Gilmore Girls," and is rated 18+.

Three months ago, life took a sharp turn. Your mother found herself entangled in a situation so bad, she couldn't dig her way out of it, like usual. This time, the hole was way too deep. She needed help, and the only people capable of aiding her were the same ones she had vowed never to allow back into her life, let alone introduce to you and your younger sibling.

Who were they?

Your grandparents—a powerful and well-established duo.

In short, they did manage to help your mother back on her feet, but not without strings attached—never without strings.

Now, you're facing a senior year in a private school, fully funded by none other than grandma and grandpa, dearest. The only task at hand: do what your mother couldn't—graduate.

Form relationships, pursue your passions, burn bridges etc.,—the decision is entirely up to you.

🍁 Customise your MC (gender, style, personality etc...).

🍁 Choose 1 out of 3 part-time jobs (p.s. 'if you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen' and pursue another in your new school!)

🍁 Choose your path. Are you aiming for a top Uni like Harvard next? Or maybe you'll step foot into the world of music? Rumour has it 'Crimson Haze' is looking for a new addition. What will it be?

🍁 Romance 1 out of 6 love interests.

🍁 A lot more in store!

Casey Decker (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

Your friendship goes way back to the nappy days. With both of your mothers on the younger end of the spectrum, it’s no surprise you grew to be close too—'best friends' type of close.

Casey is a ray of sunshine, full of life, and quite possibly the jelly to your peanut butter. They’re sweet like that—they can be, at least. But best friends should be just that: best friends. Besides, as of recently, Casey is taken.

Appearance: Medium-length, straight, golden blond hair covers the nape of their neck. They have slightly tanned skin, a sprinkle of freckles across their nose and cheeks, and grey eyes.

Lake Aydin (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

Lake has just started working at the grocery store nearby your house. High-school dropout, you assume. They don’t talk much…to you. Kind of a mystery, that one. Their social media confirms just that—there's not much to go by. 

Also, your first meeting wasn't the greatest or smoothest. But one thing's for sure: you'll be around there a lot, so you might as well get talking in the meantime, right?

Appearance: Dark brown eyes, pale skin, and short, straight black hair for m!L. For f!L, it's medium-length black hair. They wear glasses whenever they remember.

Harry/Hallie Johnson (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

H doesn't actually go to your school, but events are often organised as a collaboration between a handful of private schools, both of yours included. So yeah, you might see them around.

H is good at all of that—the networking, the galas, the fundraising, and public speaking part. They know what they want, and they have a resume to show for it. H is CC—charismatic and confident. They're who parents wish their kids would bring home, so needless to say, they've got your grandparents' stamp of approval.

Appearance: Deep brown skin, short tightly curled black hair for m!H, and a little longer than shoulder-length, tightly curled black hair for f!H. They have light brown eyes.

Santiago/Samara Garcia (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

S is an academic with tunnel vision for success. They're consistently at the top of the class, leading the ranks, and on a mission to become valedictorian.

What sets S apart from the majority, you might ask? They're one of the only two people who got into the private school solely based on merit. No mommy's or daddy's money, none of that. It's all about brains and drive.

And what about you? Are you a high achiever? If yes, expect a somewhat healthy rivalry. Heads up, though—S doesn't fail. If no, they'll look down on you, and they won't make any effort to hide that. It's a double-edged sword.

Appearance: They have wavy brunette, borderline black, nearly shoulder-length hair, tan skin, and hazel eyes. They also have three beauty marks: one above their left eyebrow, one right below the left corner of their lip, and one on the tip of their nose.

Riven/Raven Rodrigo (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

R is destined to be a superstar. Three years ago, R and 3 of their friends formed a band called 'Crimson Haze,' and it seems like all their hard work has finally paid off this summer. They've had a couple of gigs overseas, and they've done really well. They're on their way to major stardom, but first, they need to figure out a few things. Something's missing—perhaps a fifth and final member?

R is a passionate musician, a reckless friend, and a nonchalant lover. Music is their life. However, their love life is...unsteady. They don't do distractions, aka relationships; only fun.

Appearance: They have dyed jet-black hair, short messy waves for m!R, and long messy waves for f!R. They also have amber eyes and olive skin.

Nolan/Naya Brown (m/f) 🍁 [profile page]

N is the star athlete and the school's pride and joy. They have a lot of eyes on them, watching and expecting big things to come. On the court, they're a beast, but in class? Not so much. Their grades are below average, and if they want to keep competing for that full-ride scholarship, they need to bring their grades all the way up.

N is a typical cool and popular kid—playful, funny, and well-liked around the school. Whether they remember it or not, you share a history. You used to know N. FYI, they've been in a committed relationship for the past two and a half years.

Appearance: They have light brown skin in the winter and medium-brown skin in the summer. Their hair is dark brown, with short and loosely curled hair for m!N, and long and loosely curled dark hair for f!N.

DEMO TBA | FORUM

[panelshowsource]

rather than who you would like to see on the next taskmaster series, who do you think will be on it? like just your predictions or any inklings you may have!

anon if you're still around then you'll know i really took my time with this hahaha so sorry! i hope anyone reading this takes it as just a bit of fun and nbd, who knows who we'll get or who alex & the network have in mind! i'm answering thoughtfully (bc i always feel guilty not to 😩 so sorry this is long lol) but it's really just fun!!

i will say, of the more recent-ish series, i did get a few right!!! krishnan guru-murthy, nicola coughlan, alan davies, judi love, sue perkins, john robins, and joanne mcnally were people i just knew would eventually be on if the show could get their schedules right, and i was also certain sarah millican and dara ó briain would be asked — though not necessarily that they'd actually agree. when you have a level of seniority and esteem, the "it's such a great opportunity" aspect of the show isn't such a draw 😅 for some reason i feel SO PROUD about guessing nicola! i was just WAITING and wish sooooo much she had done a full series 😭😭😭 (how fun would saoirse-monica jackson be too!)

anyways, as for people who haven't been on yet — and this isn't to say i want them all to be, just that i think it's likeliest they have been asked or will be asked; i talked about who i want to see a little while ago here — it's important to consider the casting 'roles' the network has in mind when working with the producers to form a series, so i will keep that in mind too!

established comedian, typically a straight white man over 40: bill bailey, vic reeves, harry hill, geoff norcott, kevin bridges, adam buxton, ade edmondson (tommy tiernan? god i feel bad for not saying ed byrne but why do i feel like he's not gonna make it in the next few series? i'm on the fence with nick helm — unless he's friends with alex, then his chances go up significantly imo — and tom allen for some reason, and i feel like john bishop is almost too much of an ask?)

fresh talent comedian, typically a man under 40: rhys james, huge davies, ahir shah, darren harriott would be my top guesses but tbh any of the semi-recent edinburgh comedy award finalists are good bets as a majority of the winners from the last ~10 years have been on the series + throwing out tom rosenthal (i know he's not fresh fresh and also mostly an actor)...and, like, jazz emu?...just because if taskmaster know how much its audience adores weird little white twinks then they'll cast them

female or non-binary comedian: 100% sarah keyworth + harriet kemsley, maisie adam, jess fostekew, suzi ruffell. i've shifted away from betting on cariad lloyd and catherine bohart for some reason... (joanne was my no.1 lady bet for the last like 4 series hahaha)

non-comedian: this is very, very hard to predict because between comedy actors, non-comedy actors, tv presenters, news people, reality & social media stars... the potential predictions are just so endless! logically, the most likely is an established actor with a lot of comedy connections (think sally phillips, lolly adefope, liza tarbuck, sian gibson, daisy may cooper, susan wokoma; this category is where tm gets quite a few of its female contestants): matt holness, kevin eldon, amanda abbington, tom davis, sharon horgan, kathy burke, georgia tennant (also friends w alex?), su pollard, tom basden, apparently anyone from the cast of ghosts, and so on and so on and so on... + i'll also throw out maggie aderin-pocock as a serious contender + i really feel like one of the spice girls will be on new years treat

friend of alex: john robins was the prediction for the past few series, so just worth keeping in mind other people in this circle include elis james, matthew crosby, tom neenan, and so on

freebie answers because alex/greg have mentioned them before: jack dee, lorraine kelly, joanna lumley (i want jennifer saunders SO BAD give us an epic series w both ade and jen pleaseeee tm gods!!!!)

complete wild card bets that are either my instincts kicking in or my bias taking over: limmy, adam buxton, paddy mcguinness, diane morgan, daniel sloss, chris ramsey, jess hynes, spencer jones??, alasdair beckett-king or josh pugh + if suzy izzard wasn't doing a big nyc show i'd say that's a good guess if only bc you know greg & alex grew up big fans

did i mention too many people?? if i had to put my money behind a single person it would be either ahir shah or sarah keyworth

these are almost all of my fr big heavy hitters when it comes to placing bets! but there are of course so many people i didn't name who i could totally see on either a main series or the ny treat — so many people just make sense and that's the beauty of taskmaster!!

[csuitebitches]

Do you have any recommendations for how to network while also dealing with major anxiety issues?

It's one of those things I know I should do, but I generally don't because of social anxiety. At the last event I went to (part of a class, mandatory attendance), I made sure my instructor knew I was there, but otherwise didn't talk to anyone and left at the first opportunity to narrowly avoid a panic attack.

There's another one coming up next week (also mandatory attendance), and I want to make the most of it, but I also get so stressed out thinking about it that I start crying, and don't know where to start.

I’ll be honest. I hope you can go to therapy or counselling because this is a little above my pay grade. I’ll share what I generally do.

I make a list before any social event, be it a conference, a new friend’s dinner party, etc. I write down:

1. exactly who the target market (attendees) is (professionals, young adults, senior ranked employees etc).

2. I set a few talking points for myself and write those down.

If it’s a work event, I’ll make sure I know what’s happening in the market so that I’m up to date. If I need help with a certain issue at work - let’s say something isn’t being configured in an app because of XYZ reasons - I’ll note it down so that if I find a person working in that relevant field, I can use that both as conversation but also for my benefit.

If I’m meeting new friends, I’ll quickly go over recent pop culture, travel plans, latest in politics, newly released albums, upcoming holidays. These are generally the most common topics. If there’s something I don’t want to talk about that is generally spoken about - example, my dating life - I think of the best answer to that question beforehand.

3. I set a goal for myself.

Most of the time, my goal is to talk to at least 3 people enough to get their contact numbers.

If I end up feeling really nervous before any event, I sit in my car and listen to some meditative music, talk some deep breaths, talk to myself out loud, etc. I motivate myself the way I’d motivate a friend.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Olivia Land

A BBC staffer is under fire for a string of antisemitic Facebook posts in which she referred to Jewish people as “Nazi apartheid parasites” and called white people a “virus.”

Dawn Queva, senior scheduling coordinator and playout planner at BBC Three, made many of the troubling, since-deleted posts over the last few months, Deadline revealed.

In one rant, Queva — whose profile appeared under the name Dawn Las Quevas-Allen — called Jewish people “Nazi apartheid parasites” and accused them of funding a “holohoax,” the outlet said.

She also made several posts criticizing Israel and Zionism — including one in which she referred to “a bunch of subcontinental European melanin recessive CaucAsian japhetic AshkeNazi who have no None zero zilch blood connection to the land of Palestine or Israel historically.”

Some of Queva’s disturbing posts go back nearly a decade: In 2014, she referred to Israel as “Israhell,” the Times of Israel said.

“The Zionist genocidal land squatting so called Jew’ irrespective of the fact that The UKKK and Amerikkka gave away land they had no god given right to a people who have no god given right to,” Queva added in another post, according to screenshots shared by Deadline.

3Dawn Queva made many troubling, since-deleted posts, including one calling Jewish people “Nazi apartheid parasites”.

Queva — who previously worked for A+E Networks, UKTV and Disney, according to Deadline — also repeatedly took aim at white people, to whom she referred as a “virus” and a “mutant invader species,” the Telegraph wrote.

Several of her posts refer to Great Britain as the “UKKK,” in reference to the Ku Klux Klan.

In another update, she wrote that white people were a “barbaric bloodthirsty rapacious murderous genocidal thieving parasitical deviant breed.”

[evergreenclub991]

Just Like Mom- 5 Gudi Padwa Must-Haves

Gudi Padwa, is almost here, bringing with it a nostalgia — memories, sights and smells associated deeply with home, love and celebration. Hasn’t this day always been celebrated with much pomp and gusto to mark the creation of the universe, the beginning of the New Year and the onset of spring and harvest season? According to legend, adding to the significance of Gudi Padwa is the fact that this day also marks the coronation of Lord Rama on his triumphant return from vanvasa (exile). Do you remember how the matriarch of the household — Aaji (grandmother) or Aai (mother) — really came into her own to celebrate this day? So, dress up in your traditional finery, cue the dhol and set up with these five essential Gudi Padwa elements you need to celebrate it just like mom did:

1. The Gudi

Crafting the gudi lovingly — Aai’s first job. A symbol of the festival and an ensign that brings luck and happiness for the entire year — a suitable bamboo shaft is adorned with a silken scarf, which is wrapped with neem leaves, flowers, and mango leaves, and finally topped off with a pot or kalash and proudly displayed from the terrace, window, or balcony of the house. One of the most enduring childhood memories is to help mom prepare the gudi and the kadulimba cha prasad during Gudi Padwa.

2. The Rangoli

You can’t have an Indian, and particularly a Maharashtrian festival without a dash of colour. Remember how your mother traced out a gorgeous and intricate rangoli to mark the festival and of course, adorning the main entrance of the household with garlands.

3. The Puranpoli

Homemade food is always the best, and Aai’s puranpoli — what wouldn’t you give to have a taste of that again! It doesn’t get much richer and more delicious than this famous flatbread. That perfect blend of chana daal (split chickpeas), sweet jaggery, and savoury spices all generously bathed in pure ghee. The mouth waters just thinking about it.

4. The Shrikhand

Saying that Shrikhand is India’s sweet yogurt is like saying the Shaniwar Wada used to be someone’s residence. It’s so much more than that. The softness and lightness of the yogurt, the sweet overtones, and that hint of saffron –a most delightful dessert to grace the Gudi Padwa menu — especially when you could get to taste it off Aai’s fingers!!

5. The Aam Panna

The start of spring — the beginning of mango season — nothing could cool you down quite like a tall sip of lip-smacking aam panna. Mint leaves, mango pulp, a hint of sugar and spice, and Maa’s loving hand to mix it into a stimulating and refreshing beverage like no other. Each and every entry on this list sparks a glowing moment of reminiscence. Relive those happy childhood times where family values, traditions,

and celebrations brought the entire household together.

Learn amazing Gudi Padwa dishes by attending online hobby courses for older adults organized by Evergreen Club

[mariemarion]

hey, long time no been here. I'm sleepy, but I have something to say

I will abuse google translator a little cause I originally wrote all this in spanish :p

I haven't had energy the last few months. I am currently in a not very good state of mind so I will allow myself to be somewhat negative below.

I have lost interest in continuing with art, or at least the motivation is at the lowest level it has ever been, my only real reason for continuing is because it feeds my family, my pets and me, its reason enough to keep going , I fervently believe. But this doesn't stop me from feeling like I'm not going anywhere, that I'm stuck. Drawing has never been so exhausting, so tiring. I loved it, it may not be a permanent feeling, but currently I do not feel love for my drawings, for my current style, although I like it I feel that it is not mine, that it is not me, that I am not being sincere.

My dream is to reach that level of skill, like the meme, a rookie artist drawing something super rendered and complex and the senior artist drawing the most simplified style possible, I want to be that senior artist x'D.

How socials are treating and overshadowing artists lately also has a lot to add here, to hell with the numbers, I'm not interested in them, I'm not interested in the algorithm, I don't quite understand what it's about, I don't want to be tied down all the time , I want to come and go freely, that's all, I don't enjoy loggin into networks as i used to be.

Sometimes I would like to go back in time, when I felt free to create, when I was looking for to experiment and had fun. Today just thinking about holding a pencil makes me want to run away to the comfort of my bed or go play with my cats or to want to climb a mount and never coming back. And not to mention the damage I have done to my eyes and my hands, sometimes I can't do anything but overdo everything, and therefore hurting me, I foolishly force myself to accomplish deadlines that I have imposed on myself and that I am aware of its a short time.

I'm in a situation where I can't stop drawing, it's my job, I can't simply take a rest. I practically survive with what I earn (which lately is little), prices for many essentials are going up to the stratosphere and beyond (the price for cat food is so ridiculously expensive that I have started opting for homemade food) I have not been able to save anything, if I stop drawing and taking commissions, I don't know what else I could do, looking for alternatives is also tiring. I just want to sleep.

Apathy, that is my current state.

Fatigue.

Drowsiness.

A bottomless abyss, although when I say it out loud it makes me laugh x'D

Going to therapy has crossed my mind, I know there are issues to resolve, but thinking about the absence of money and next month's expenses somehow overlap everything else.

I think there were more things to add, but I can't think anymore.

I will not abandon art, it is clear to me, but if these last few months have been slow (in terms of making art), they will be even more so in the future, so you better do not miss me too much, you have been warned x'D

ty for reading

[mariacallous]

X has locked and suspended the accounts of journalists and researchers who shared the alleged identity of a neo-Nazi cartoonist known as Stonetoss after the cartoonist appealed to site owner Elon Musk.

The incident, critics say, highlights once again how Musk has not only welcomed extremists onto his platform but has repeatedly boosted their conspiracies, engaged with their accounts, and seems to have protected them from scrutiny.

A lengthy X thread posted by the antifascist research group Anonymous Comrades Collective last week claimed that Stonetoss is a man named Hans Kristian Graebener from Spring, Texas. Stonetoss cartoons, which feature simple and colorful imagery coupled with racist, homophobic, and antisemitic language, have become hugely popular among right-wing communities since they were first published at least seven years ago.

In its telling, the antifascist research group linked the Stonetoss cartoonist to another anonymous racist cartoonist known as Red Panels by comparing their voices from appearances on extremist podcasts. The researchers say they found an email address linked to Graebener that was used to register the Red Panels accounts on the far-right social media platform Gab. Then, the group says, it was able to match up comments made by Stonetoss with events in Graebener’s life. In one case, Graebener took a trip to Japan in 2019 with a Houston IT company he then worked for; at the same time, Stonetoss posted a picture on X of a “welcome to Japan” sign with the comment, “Finally made it to the ethnostate fellas.” The research group has been doing this kind of work for years and has been credited with unmasking numerous other extremists, including those involved with a neo-Nazi homeschool network.

Graebener has not disputed anything the researchers uncovered. He did not respond to requests for comment from WIRED to his personal email address nor to the email address on the Stonetoss website, and he did not pick up calls from phone numbers associated with his name.

The Anonymous Comrade Collective thread got a lot of attention on X, racking up at least 13.5 million views. On Thursday, the Stonetoss account appealed to X users who have “a direct line” to Musk, X’s owner, to help to get the thread deleted. Musk has, in the past, shared an altered version of a Stonetoss cartoon about the collapse of society. “If Elon's idea of a ‘free speech’ website is one where people can be intimidated into silence, the outcome will be a site where the Stasi will drive out all dissent,” Stonetoss wrote. The account also tagged Musk and offered to share a list of people to target.

In a subsequent post, Stonetoss said this appeal was not about him but about other “artists.”

“This is about others I know personally,” Stonetoss wrote. “There is a whole ecosystem of artists out there who cannot (or have stopped) making art because of people on twitter organized to punish them IRL for doing so.” The cartoonist also added that sales of his plush toy were “going gangbusters” since his alleged identity was revealed.

Hours later, the account associated with the Anonymous Comrades Collective that posted the thread was deleted, and the account was suspended. On Friday, dozens of users, including a number of researchers and journalists, began discussing the incident and posting some of the details of the research, including Graebener’s name.

X locked down many of these accounts and ordered them to delete the offending tweet to get full access to their accounts back. Among those targeted were Jared Holt, a senior research analyst at the Institute for Strategic Dialogue, who covers right-wing extremism; Hannah Gais, a senior research analyst at Southern Poverty Law Center; and Steven Monacelli, an investigative journalist for the Texas Observer. (WIRED has also published Monacelli’s work.)

X also imposed a ban on sharing the link to the Anonymous Comrades Collective blog detailing its research. WIRED verified this on Monday morning by attempting to post the link, only to be met with a pop-up message that read: ‘We can't complete this request because this link has been identified by X or our partners as being potentially harmful.”

Even with the crackdown from X, people kept sharing details of the Stonetoss investigation.

“We all just started posting his name; it was like a Streisand effect,” Alejandra Caraballo, a clinical instructor at the Harvard Law School Cyberlaw Clinic, tells WIRED. “They're just trying to censor his name, and then everyone started getting their accounts locked.”

Caraballo, who shared screenshots of the messages she received from X with WIRED, managed to circumvent the initial ban by appealing it and claiming, ironically, that she was the victim of mass reporting from antifa who were attempting to silence her right-wing viewpoint.

While that appeal was successful, Caraballo was quickly locked out of her account again when she changed her username to “Hans Kristian Graebener is stonetoss.” That resulted in a 12-hour suspension, and when her account was reinstated she was soon punished for earlier posts that shared screenshots of information about Graebener. Caraballo’s account has now been suspended for seven days. Shortly after this article was originally published, Caraballo’s account was restored by X, without an explanation.

An X representative says that the company, following a review of the actions taken against the accounts of Anonymous Comrades Collective, Holt, Gais, Monacelli, and Caraballo, stood by its decision.

“The posts that were removed were all actioned correctly,” says Joe Benarroch, head of business operations at X, adding that the posts violated the company’s “posting private information policy” for “outing the identity of an anonymous user.”

While X does have a policy around sharing private information, the company’s terms of service on March 20 did not mention a policy related to outing the identity of an anonymous user, and Benarroch did not respond to a request for clarification. On March 21, after WIRED published this story, X updated its privacy policy to specifically prohibit posting the ”the identity of an anonymous user, such as their name or media depicting them.”

“According to X’s terms of service, posting someone's name does not constitute doxing, but, many accounts, including my own, have been made to delete posts that merely mention the name of the racist and antisemitic cartoonist Stonetoss,” Monacelli told WIRED before the change. “I've never seen enforcement like this before.”

This policy change could possibly be in response to a post last month from Musk when he wrote, “Any doxxing, which includes revealing real names, will result in account suspension.” Still, in an interview with Don Lemon released on Monday, Musk said that moderation of hate speech is akin to “censorship.”

There are now hundreds of posts on the platform which name Stonetoss as Graebener. There are also numerous accounts on the platform that changed their profile name to “Hans Kristian Graebener is stonetoss”—and they haven’t all been suspended.

“This is completely arbitrary and under Twitter's own community standards it says that a name is never considered private information,” Caraballo tells WIRED. “There's an immense double standard here of the neo-Nazi comic guy being protected” by X. But then, she says, “The people that do this to anyone on the left are not only followed by [Musk] but are boosted by him. It's completely inconsistent.” To her, it seems that whoever Musk favors gets protected, and anyone else is banned. “This is also a pretext for them to be able to go after anyone that they dislike,” Caraballo says.”

Caraballo and others have pointed to accounts like Libs of TikTok and far-right troll Andy Ngo, both of which have shared private information about trans people but have not had their accounts suspended. Musk has also engaged with posts that doxed individuals on X, with seemingly no recourse for those accounts.

For anyone who has tracked Musk’s actions since taking control of X in October 2022, this incident is no surprise. Musk has systematically removed the guardrails the company had put in place to prevent hate speech on the platform and has welcomed back racists, antisemites, and transphobic posters who had been previously banned.

In recent months, Musk has repeatedly endorsed racist conspiracies like the great replacement theory and has engaged with numerous accounts spreading disinformation and hate speech. Just this weekend, Musk interacted with Martin Sellner, the founder of a white ethnonationalist group in Austria who previously communicated with and accepted a donation from the man who shot and killed 51 people at two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, in 2019.

After they deleted their posts, most of those restricted for sharing Graebener’s name have had their accounts unlocked. However, the Anonymous Comrade Collective account that shared the details about Graebener is also suspended, and a representative tells WIRED they are unsure when or if it will come back.

[just-late-roman-republic-things]

Avenues of female political influence in late republican Rome:

Senior women frequently acted as advisors to their brothers, husbands, children, and occasionally even parents. Servilia is known to have had a strong influence over her brother Cato even in his adulthood, Fulvia was a key agent and confidante for each of her husbands, and even Tullia sometimes sent letters telling her father Cicero what she thought he should do.

Women had their own social networks in parallel to men. They visited each other for social engagements, religious observances, scoping out marital prospects for themselves or their children, and passed along letters and information. Aristocratic women like Servilia could often visit politicians' households more easily than their male relatives could, and female clients would often prefer to approach their patron's wife than the patron himself. Women could also be patrons with client networks in their own right.

Women could act as negotiators, spies, and go-betweens. Mark Antony's mother negotiated with Sextus Pompey on Antony's behalf; Servilia pulled strings to get Brutus and Cassius' provinces reassigned. Men often relied on their female relatives to tactfully sound out alliances, gauge public opinion, or collect intelligence while the man could maintain plausible deniability.

Women could canvass or intercede on behalf of relatives. Although being too publicly active was considered embarrassing, it was quite proper for a mother, wife, sister or daughter to talk to the family's allies, clients, and other politicians to get benefits for her kin. They could help male relatives get elected, taken off proscription lists, or get his legislation more support.

Women were probably consulted on most marriage alliances, and thus on political alliances via marriage. Mothers, grandmothers and aunts in particular were often involved, thanks to their extensive social networks and opportunity to assess potential spouses. Although brides usually didn't get much say in their first marriage, they usually had more choice in second and third marriages.

Women's social connections were especially important due to Rome's barebones civil infrastructure. Compared to modern states, republican Rome had very few magistrates or civil servants. There were also few "social services" in the modern sense. People relied on family connections and the patron-client system in order to meet their needs, respond to emergencies, and get things done. Having more friends in as many places as possible was necessary for political survival; you couldn't afford to sequester your women.

When men went overseas to govern provinces or serve in the legions, it was often their female relatives who managed estates in their absence, advocated for their interests in Rome, and kept them updated on political events. This was especially important in the late republic, when wives didn't normally follow their husbands to the provinces. A wife was expected to be a representative for her husband and point of contact for his allies. Mothers, sisters and aunts may do the same.

Property and power went hand in hand. Wealthier women had more social and political influence. Changes in marriage and inheritance law resulted in more women owning property in their own right during the late republic. Unless a will was written otherwise, by default sons and daughters inherited equal shares of an estate. Sine manu marriage enabled women to become legally independent at earlier ages, take back their dowries after divorce, and avoid being completely under their husbands' authority.

Although women couldn't vote or run for office, and were expected to use their influence in private homes instead of the public square, there's no doubt that aristocratic women like Servilia, Fulvia and Aurelia played major parts in building alliances, furthering their families' careers, defusing conflicts, and sometimes starting new ones. A particularly well-connected woman like Servilia could exert more weight in the Senate than most senators.

The system they lived in aligned their personal interests with those of their husbands, sons, and birth families, so most of our evidence shows women acting on behalf of men rather than pursuing personal agendas. These allegiances also ran along class lines: Servilia would have been far more interested in preserving her family's reputation, security and wealth than in the issues of poor or middle-class women.

In Roman politics, the personal was political. Parties and get-togethers were networking events. Weddings were for the families' joint prospects and goals as much as they were about the newlyweds. Friendships were expected to include reciprocal favors in business and politics. Your very house was both a symbol of yourself as a person, and your political hub, and your children would learn the system and make connections as much as home as in the forum.

This means that women, by necessity, were heavily involved in Roman politics. We have less documentation of their work than men's, since so much of it was unofficial and behind closed doors, but the republic depended on aristocratic women's skills, activities and relationships as much as on men's.

(Notes taken on Servilia and Her Family, by Susan Treggiari.)

[myalgias]

Excerpts from the article:

Because it’s clear that being “the last public space” isn’t a privilege. It’s a sign that something has gone terribly wrong.

At the time, countless articles asked if new technology meant “the death of the public library.” Instead, the institution completely transformed itself. Libraries carved out a new role providing online access to those who needed it. They abandoned the big central desk, stopped shushing patrons, and pushed employees out onto the floor to do programming. Today, you’ll find a semester’s load of classes, events, and seminars at your local library: on digital photography, estate planning, quilting, audio recording, taxes for seniors, gaming for teens, and countless “circle times” in which introverts who probably chose the profession because of their passion for Victorian literature are forced to perform “The Bear Went over the Mountain” to rooms full of rioting toddlers.

In the midst of this transformation, new demands began to emerge. Libraries have always been a welcoming space for the entire community. Alexander Calhoun, Calgary’s first librarian, used the space for adult education programs and welcomed “transients” and the unemployed into the building during the Depression. But the past forty years of urban life have seen those demands grow exponentially. In the late 1970s, “homelessness” as we know it today didn’t really exist; the issue only emerged as a serious social problem in the 1980s. Since then, as governments have abandoned building social housing and rents have skyrocketed, homelessness in Canada has transformed into a snowballing human rights issue. Meanwhile, the opioid crisis has devastated communities, killing more than 34,000 Canadians between 2016 and 2022, according to the Public Health Agency of Canada. And the country’s mental health care system, always an underfunded patchwork of services, is today completely unequipped to deal with demand. According to the Canadian Institute for Health Information, from 2020 to 2021, Canadians waited a median of twenty-two days for their first counselling session. As other communal support networks have suffered cutbacks and disintegrated, the library has found itself as one of the only places left with an open door.

When people tell the story of this transformation, from book repository to social services hub, it’s usually as an uncomplicated triumph. A recent “love letter” to libraries in the New York Times has a typical capsule history: “As local safety nets shriveled, the library roof magically expanded from umbrella to tarp to circus tent to airplane hangar. The modern library keeps its citizens warm, safe, healthy, entertained, educated, hydrated and, above all, connected.” That story, while heartwarming, obscures the reality of what has happened. No institution “magically” takes on the role of the entire welfare state, especially none as underfunded as the public library. If the library has managed to expand its protective umbrella, it has done so after a series of difficult decisions. And that expansion has come with costs.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

"get me a damned matcha" | Chapter 16: September II

{{ Chapter 15: August II | Chapter 17: October II }} Chapter Directory

this is honestly my fave chapter tbh, i've had it written since may

if you wanna get tagged for updates, fill out this form here!

✧ pairing ➼ levi ackerman x fem!reader, college x coffee shop x roommates!au ✧ summary ➼ After you find yourself plagued with misfortune due to struggles in your personal and family life, you find yourself needing to move last minute. As a junior in undergrad with little money and little social support, you considered yourself lucky when you found a sublease that was close to campus and was relatively cheap. Unfortunately, it seemed that your roommate did not seem to be so excited regarding your presence. ✧ content/warnings ➼ fluff, slowburn, mutual pining, idiots in love, car accident, explicit descriptions of injury, blood, explicit descriptions of panic, explicit descriptions of being overstimulated (in a bad way) ✧ word count ➼ ~6.3k

The events of the past month went unaddressed. Although part of it was due to the two of you avoiding each other, the biggest reason was simply because you were out of town. Paradis University had enrolled in an annual conference for aspiring authors to attend in their junior or senior year. You didn't make it in last year because of the chaos surrounding Zack and moving, so you dropped everything to make sure you were able to go this year to get some networking under your belt.

This resulted in Levi coming home to an empty apartment for the past week. Once again, he found himself feeling defeated whenever he went home and was reminded that you weren't going to be there for the night. He remembered that when you first moved in, he couldn't wait to get rid of you. Now, not having you around felt wrong, as if he was missing a constant in his life.

Being left to his own thoughts whenever he was at home forced him to try to process what had happened two weeks ago. He remembered being in shambles after half of his work that was saved remotely on his computer in lab went down in flames, which would push him back at least another year in terms of graduating. He remembered coming home to see that you had been sitting at the dining table all day, waiting for him. He remembered you hugging him—which was more than enough to throw him into a state of shock (the last time you had hugged him was when you were horrifically drunk)—before kissing him. 

He had kissed you back. 

He knew that. What he didn't know was what this meant. Was it just emotions running high? The whole incident seemed so blurred to him and you just never addressed it afterwards. Not having you around to talk about it was even worse, although he wasn't even sure if he wanted to bring it up. It could've just been a mistake that you two could forget ever happened.

Levi sighed to himself, scowling at the freshly brewed batch of tea that he had restocked to prepare for the evening rush of customers. The sun had just gone down and ominous clouds were beginning to cover the sky. That translated to more people taking shelter in the café, which meant more work for him.

Good, it'd at least take his mind off of you, although his eyebrows furrowed as he wondered when you'll arrive home, given the incoming storm. He knew it didn't matter in the end. He'd be up regardless. The real question was if that shared kiss was worth bringing up.

As he pondered over if he wanted to subject himself to that conversation, he was distracted by the buzzing of his phone in his pocket. He pulled out his phone and saw that it was Marlo calling.

What the hell does that kid want?

He pressed the answer button and brought his phone up to his ear.

"What?" Levi asked in an irritated fashion. "I thought you didn't get back until tomorrow."

Levi's facial expression quickly transitioned from an irate one to a horrified one as Marlo quickly spoke to him over the phone. The young man was talking so fast that it was nearly incomprehensible, with clear panic present in his voice, which was further muffled by the sound of the wind coming through the phone, which indicated that he was outside. 

As soon as Marlo said the words "car accident", Levi's eyes widened and his face drained of color.

You and Marlo were carpooling to and from the conference together.

"I know you're roommates and I didn't know who else to call," Marlo continued to speak as Levi remained silent. "_____'s unconscious and I can't get her to wake up and I don't even know if she's breathing and-"

"What the fuck are you calling me for?" Levi said in a monotonous tone. "Call the ambulance already, you idiot."

Levi began to walk towards the staff locker room, untying his apron as he continued to speak into the phone.

"I'll be there in ten."

He hung up the phone and momentarily looked at the call log that popped up, with his eyes out of focus, indicating that he wasn't actually processing what it was that was on the screen. Levi stood still in front of his locker for a while, unable to put his phone down or put his apron away, being completely paralyzed at the situation that had just been dropped onto him.

"Shit," he muttered to himself, pulling himself out of his stupor.

Suddenly feeling an incredible sense of urgency, Levi threw his apron into his locker, grabbed his wallet and car keys and rushed out of the café towards his own car.

~~~~~

Focusing on the road felt impossible. The storm had come down in full force, limiting the visibility of the road, and Levi couldn't get his own heart rate to calm down. He had told Marlo that he'd get there in ten minutes, but it became closer to twenty due to the storm. If Marlo was telling the truth in that he didn't know if you were breathing, Levi could be much too late by the time he arrived.

He continued to curse at himself as more and more time passed. He had foolishly been wondering if he wanted to bring up something as innocent as a kiss once you got home when you had actually been in a car crash that could possibly take your life. It felt trivial to be stressed over something as small as a kiss. He gripped at the steering wheel upon realizing that, depending on your state once he found you, addressing whatever was going on between the two of you might not be a reality. He could be too late. 

He wouldn't have the chance to explore that with you, instead only being left with a sense of regret for not bringing it up sooner.

His eyes that were fixated on the road darted around his field of vision, keeping an eye out for the red and blue flashing lights that indicated the presence of an ambulance. He felt his breathing begin to destabilize the longer he drove without the siren of an ambulance in the distance. 

Maybe they had already gotten to you and were on their way with you to the hospital. That would be the best case scenario.

His heart dropped once he arrived at the location that Marlo had sent him. No ambulance had arrived. Marlo's totaled car had its emergency blinkers on and Levi could see that there were parts from the front bumper strewn about the ground. The main frame of the car was completely bent in and the passenger side of the car was caved in. 

Levi immediately turned on his own blinkers and got out of the car, holding his hand over his head in an attempt to at least keep the rainwater out of his eyes as he sprinted over to Marlo. 

Marlo himself seemed fine, save for a few scratches, but he definitely looked panicked. 

Levi felt his panic and anxiety only continue to increase as his eyes searched for where you were, his eyes immediately snapping to the passenger's seat once Marlo pointed out where you were. 

Marlo was saying something, but none of it was processed by Levi as he stumbled through the wreckage to get to where you were. Once he finally reached the door, he tugged on it to pry it open after it had gotten stuck due to the main frame of the car caving in. 

He let out a sharp exhale once he saw you.

Your side of the car had gotten directly hit and your airbag had failed to pop out. You were leaning forward with your head against the dash, your arm was bent at an odd angle, and blood was gushing out of your nose and down your face from a wound that Levi couldn't begin to attempt to identify.

He could tell that you weren't hurt anywhere else. None of your chest and abdominal regions seemed to have been punctured and weren't bleeding, but he had no idea how bad your head injury was. He could understand why Marlo had panicked. 

Shit.

He wasn't processing anything around him. He didn't feel the rain falling on him, hear the thunder crashing above him, or even see anything that wasn't the sight of you leaning forward in that car after having smashed your head against the dashboard. Panic only continued to build in his gut and it took everything in him to pull himself back into reality.

"Shit," he said out loud as he pulled out his phone, shakily dialing for the ambulance again. 

After placing his phone back into his pocket, he leaned forward and stepped over some of the debris and placed one hand on the nape of your neck and used the other to gently push you away from the dash, his breath getting caught in his throat once he saw your head bob to the side. He got a closer look at your arm and was able to deduce that your arm was certainly broken, but he still had no idea how bad your head injury actually was. There was certainly more blood dripping down your face than he had initially expected.

"_____?" he called for you, raising his voice so that you would be able to hear him over the pouring rain. 

You didn't stir, but he was now close enough that he could see your chest rise and fall. You were still breathing. That at least meant you were still alive. 

He felt himself exhale in relief at that one positive fact amongst the ocean of negatives around him.

Levi gently shook at your shoulder in a vain attempt to wake you.

Open your eyes. Come on, _____, open your fucking eyes.

You weren't waking.

"_____!" he called out again, feeling his breath hitch as he saw the extent that you were continuing to bleed from your head wound.

Knowing that you weren't going to wake, he looped one arm under your legs and the other around your shoulders, propping your head up against his chest as he lifted you out of the car. He glanced down at the blood on your face that was mixing in with the rain water and he felt his own heart rate only continue to rise. His shirt was soaked in the mixture that was your blood and the rain water falling down on him. Your hair was matted and stuck to your head from the bleeding. 

The worst part was that there was still no sign of an approaching ambulance.

"Fuck!" he yelled out.

He immediately turned around and began carrying you back to his car. 

"Stay here so you can report what happened when the police decide to actually get their asses here," he spoke to Marlo as he walked past him. "Keep me updated."

Levi slowly lowered your legs down to free his hand to open up the passenger side door for you, taking care to not put too much pressure on your broken arm. He reclined the seat all the way back and then lifted you into the seat, immediately rushing to the driver's side once you were secure. 

He immediately turned on the engine and drove off as soon as he shut the driver's door, desperately trying to deduce the fastest route to the hospital. The last time he drove around in this state was when he had gone looking for you during the New Year's Eve party. The exact scenario that was happening in front of him—finding you injured, in trouble, or hurt—kept playing through his head during that night. Relief fell upon him when that reality didn't come to fruition.

That sense of relief felt stupid now. 

"You better stay with me, you goddamned brat," he mumbled as he glanced over at you, his grip on the steering wheel tightening as he pressed down on the gas pedal to speed his way over to the hospital as quickly as he could.

~~~~~

He couldn't tell if the wetness was from the blood or rainwater. He had taken off his jacket that was drenched in rainwater (or blood, he couldn't tell). 

Levi currently stared at himself in the mirror of one of the private bathrooms in the hospital. He didn't want to wander into a public one in the state that he was in. 

He was absolutely filthy. His hands, arms, and shirt were covered in blood. He had spent the past five minutes desperately trying to wash away the blood on his hands and arms, but he couldn't get all of it off. Even if he could, it would do little to ease his distress. He had continued to scrub harder and harder in a vain attempt to not only wash off the blood, but also the stupidly uncomfortable feeling that was building in his chest and throat upon seeing your blood that had dried onto him. 

He had scrubbed until his arms were raw, yet the blood stains were still there and his distress had not shown any signs of dissipating. 

Fuck!

He gripped at the sink and tightly shut his eyes. Everything was setting his senses on overdrive. His eyes hurt from the bright hospital lights, his skin hurt from the scrubbing and the feeling of his wet clothes clinging onto him, his head hurt from hearing the whirring of the ventilation above him and from the smell of hospital cleaners permeating his nose. He felt nauseated and wanted to throw up. He couldn't stop his shaking. Every breath he took felt like he was inhaling fire. Even the loose strands of hair that rested upon his forehead felt like they were stabbing into him. 

He had rushed you into the emergency room as soon as he had arrived and felt both a sense of relief and dread once they took you away. He was relieved that you were finally getting help, but also hated not being by your side. He had no idea if you were going to be okay. You were breathing and alive, sure, but he had no idea if you would wake and what state you would be in when you woke. 

He felt so stupid for holding back on discussing any of the intimate emotions that arose when he was around you, and even moreso when he recalled the fact that he had tried to push you away. He still didn't know what it was, but he knew it was something—and now he might never get the chance to figure out what that something was. 

Levi slowly opened his eyes again and looked at his reflection. He really was a mess. He took a shaky inhale in an attempt to calm himself down. He couldn't last the night in this state and he needed to be by you when you woke up—if you woke up.

He felt his breathing destabilize again upon having that thought.

Shit, get yourself together.

He tried again to take a breath in.

Breath in for four.

Hold for four.

Out for four.

Hold for four.

After a few more rounds of box-breathing, Levi was finally able to loosen his grip on the sink. He felt weak and his lips looked pale. He hadn't eaten anything since the afternoon before he left for his shift and it was now approaching 10pm, but he knew that he wouldn't be able to keep anything down until he knew if you were okay.

He slowly walked out of the bathroom, silently thanking the heavens that the waiting room was mostly empty. He didn't know how well he'd be able to cope with people walking around and talking next to him. Every additional sound was only contributing to his headache.

Levi collapsed into one of the chairs that was close to the operating room so he could be prepared when someone came out to inform him of your condition. One hand was rapidly tapping on the armrest of the chair and he found himself biting at his nails on the other—something he's never found himself to do. He only recalled resorting to it in an attempt to calm his anxiety down once—when he was waiting to hear back about his mother before she passed.

He remembered calling the ambulance when his mother had fainted after weeks of being sick and weak, kneeling next to her as the ambulance took much too long to arrive at his home. He remembered sitting in the waiting room of the hospital, regularly going up to the front desk asking if she was going to be okay. She wasn't. 

He was only eight at the time—and here he was, nearly 15 years later, feeling like he had regressed back into the body of that small child that kept on begging to himself that his mother had survived and being devastated when she didn't. He didn't know if he could go through that again.

Every second that passed was agonizing. He needed to know. He wouldn't be able to rest until he knew. Part of him wanted to just assume that you were dead so that he wouldn't be as devastated when they delivered bad news, but that itself was already too painful for him to bear.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally heard footsteps approaching from the operating room.

"Mr...Ackerman, was it?" someone spoke as they flipped through some papers on a clipboard.

Levi's eyes shot up at the doctor that had approached him.

"Y-Y..." Levi began speaking and found that his words weren't coming out properly, immediately clearing his throat to gather himself. "Yes."

The doctor looked at him and then back to the forms that had your information listed on it.

"Are you her boyfriend, I assume? She had you listed as her emergency contact." 

"What?" Levi asked, his eyes widening at both the fact that you had listed him as your emergency contact and at the doctor's somewhat absurd question. "No, I'm her roommate."

The doctor noticed his reaction.

"My mistake," they said, lowering the clipboard. "She just didn't have anyone else listed, so I assumed. That's my bad."

Levi had known about what happened with your parents and your turbulent relationship with your aunt, so he wasn't too surprised at the fact that you had listed him as your emergency contact. However, he would have assumed that you would have put Petra or Oluo instead of him. If he wasn't so freaked out about this entire situation, he might have even felt flattered.

Levi listened closely as the doctor discussed your injuries with him. He was correct in that you had a broken arm, the doctor had mentioned that it had been fractured in the accident, but should heal in a month as long as you didn't injure it again. You had a sprained ankle that should heal within a week. The most concerning injury was your head injury. The doctor mentioned that they did a CT scan and said that you had a "mild traumatic brain injury", which immediately caused Levi to tense up. 

"Fortunately, it was mild enough that she should have a speedy recovery and doesn't need to be held here for prolonged observation, but I would suggest the two of you be on the lookout for any developments."

Levi nodded as the doctor spoke, feeling himself able to gradually calm down after the doctor only listed non-fatal injuries. You were going to be okay.

"We'll probably keep her until the morning when she wakes so we can do a mental status exam, but she should be good to go home afterwards."

Levi sat back down in the chair again once the doctor walked off, holding his head in his hand. The sudden wave of relief that overtook him was almost as bad as the distress that he had been feeling for the past few hours.

Thank fuck you're okay, you annoying ass brat.

~~~~~

The last thing you remembered was the blaring horn of a pickup truck that had slammed into your side of the car. There was nothing after that.

Your head felt like it was trying to explode from the inside out. It made it so that you felt nauseated and even attempting to open your eyes seemed to prolong the pain. There was an annoyingly persistent beeping sound next to you that made it feel like there was a hammer pounding at your head every time you heard it.

Your arm felt even worse. You felt like you had gotten punched in the shoulder, except the pain radiated throughout your entire arm. You tried to lift it to maybe stretch it out to normalize the pain, but even your slight movement made a surge of pain shoot through you in such an intense wave that you wanted to cry. 

You finally peeled your eyes open and found yourself staring at the ceiling of an unfamiliar room. You weren't in your room. You weren't in your living room. You had no idea where you were. You looked down and saw a pulse oximeter attached to your left index finger and that your right arm was tightly held in a cast.

Your eyes widened and you looked over to the side at a sight that was definitely unfamiliar to you.

You saw Levi sitting at the side of your bed, looking down at the ground with a grim expression. You looked towards your night stand and saw three empty coffee cups, indicating that he had literally stayed up all night watching over you.

He suddenly raised his head as he heard you shuffling around, taking a deep breath once he saw your eyes looking back at him.

He scoffed as he shook his head at you.

"About fucking time," he said in an annoyed tone. 

You couldn't see it, but his nails had been digging into his hands for the majority of the night, and it wasn't until now that he had been able to release his clenched fists. The events of the past 12 hours had put him in a state that he hasn't experienced since childhood.

He saw you try to push yourself up and he immediately stood up, placing his hand on your back to help push you up so that you were sitting.

Your cheeks flushed up as soon as he came over to you and even more so when he placed his hand on your back. He was being oddly caring and it made you suspicious.

"Lev', where are we? What happened?"

Levi sat back down once you were up and stable.

"You were in a car accident, _____."

Your eyes went in and out of focus as you listened to Levi explain everything that had happened the previous night. He spoke about how he found you unconscious in the middle of the storm and had to drive you to the hospital himself. When you looked at him again, you saw that his shirt and pants were stained in red, which you deduced to be your own blood. 

He had been here literally all night. 

"And that's why I had to spend all night dragging your ass to the hospital," he finally ended and you grimaced at the irritation that you could hear in his voice. He was mad. You could tell that he was mad.

"...I'm sorry," you said, which earned you a bewildered look from Levi.

What the hell are you apologizing for? he thought.

"I'm sorry you had to go out of your way for that."

Levi scoffed and shook his head.

"You're such a dumbass."

"What?" you asked, unsure what he was referring to.

"Nothing," he said as he stood up. "I'm going to grab the doctor since you finally decided to wake up. Don't move."

"Not like I can move anyway."

Levi grunted as he turned away and walked out the door, the corner of his mouth twitching up slightly into a small smirk. The presence of your normally irritating sass indicated that you were okay and for the most part functional, which was all that mattered to him in this moment.

~~~~~

After being observed for 24 hours at the hospital, you were finally discharged and able to go home. The biggest concern was your head injury, so once it became clear that you didn't have a concussion, the doctor said that you were good to go, but to also keep an eye out for any signs that might reappear once you get home and to come back if they do. 

Levi walked closely behind you as you navigated your way down the hall towards the door to your apartment on crutches. You were technically able to walk, but were told not to until your ankle healed. 

He stepped forward to unlock and open the door for you and you immediately went for the kitchen table, collapsing down into one of the chairs, letting out an exasperated sigh. Everything was shit right now. You had a sprained ankle and a broken arm, and this was the first time you had been home in a week.

You weren't sure when, but your life living in this small apartment with Levi had quickly become somewhere you considered to be home.

"You'll let me know if you start feeling dizzy or any of that, yeah?" Levi asked, taking a seat next to you.

Although you were here in front of him now, he felt like his body still hadn't fully processed what had happened. He remembered just how panicked he was when he was waiting at the hospital and he still felt like there was another shoe that was going to be dropped. Something was going to happen where you fell and hurt yourself again or a symptom indicating a concussion would appear when he wasn't around to help you. He couldn't help but feel that he was still holding his breath for whatever follow-up disaster was going to occur.

You nodded, shutting one eye in pain as you tried to adjust yourself in the chair. Your entire body still ached and you knew you needed to move or at least do something to distract yourself from it.

"Where's my laptop?" you asked, opening your eye again.

Levi raised an eyebrow at you.

"Are you seriously thinking of doing work the day you get out of the hospital?"

"Where is my laptop?" you repeated, not being in the mood to suffer through Levi's attitude.

Levi sighed and leaned back in the chair.

"Marlo is coming to drop it off along with the rest of your things later tonight."

He frowned as he saw you tense up at his comment.

"How the hell am I supposed to catch up on my work-"

"Are you serious?" Levi snapped, cutting you off. "You're so stupid."

Your tenacity and stubbornness never failed to impress him. You literally had a life-or-death scenario and you were sitting in your kitchen worrying about missed schoolwork. 

His eyes darted over to you as he saw an offended look appear on your face. He immediately looked away, an uncomfortable feeling growing in his chest at the thought of hurting you.

Since when did he start caring so damn much about that?

"Get your ass on the couch and rest," he said, motioning over towards the living room before getting up. "I'll get you something to eat that's not the shitty hospital food."

~~~~~

The next 2-3 weeks primarily involved Levi helping you adjust to and heal from your injuries, which involved helping you in and out of bed, bringing you food, and generally helping you move around. He'd wake you up each morning with your coconut milk Matcha without fail, bringing a small smile to your face every time you took a sip.

After 3 weeks, you were able to take your arm out of the outer casing to move your shoulder around, but you still had to be careful to not move it too far or too quickly to avoid reinjuring it. Any symptoms of a possible concussion had long faded and moving your ankle became easier with each passing day. 

If you had to choose, the most annoying part was your inability to write. You remembered a point roughly a week after you came home, in which you were sitting in the living room with your bad leg propped up and your laptop sitting in your lap. Levi had been consistently telling you to cut it out whenever you tried to push yourself regarding school, which was made even worse given the fact that you could only type with one hand, significantly slowing you down.

You couldn't afford to be out of commission for a whole month. You sat in front of your computer, desperate for words to come out, and frustrated beyond belief at how slow your typing became due to your right arm being dysfunctional. You quietly groaned as you rubbed your head in pain. You needed more caffeine, and you were already past your third cup of coffee for the day.

"_____," you heard Levi call out from the dining area.

You didn't acknowledge him, only continuing to stare at your laptop screen as you tried to type as quickly as you could with your left hand.

You heard him sigh as he walked over and took your laptop from you, setting it down on the coffee table. 

"Cut it out," he said before you could protest, referring to you constantly pushing yourself past your limits when you were still trying to heal. "I'm sick of having to tell you this shit."

You knew that he was right. You couldn't realistically get any work done with the state that you were in, but you didn't want to just lay around either.

With the more days that passed, the more you became frustrated with your inability to take care of yourself that was compounded by Levi essentially hovering over you to make sure that you were okay. It was obnoxious and you relished any time you could actually have to yourself without your overbearing roommate watching your every move.

You currently found yourself laying in bed, glancing at the small ray of sunshine that peaked in through the curtains. You needed to get out of the house. You had been cooped in all week. While you were still supposed to be using your crutches, walking had gotten a bit less painful, which gave you hope that you could maybe go for a "walk" down the street.

You pushed yourself up off the bed, swinging your legs over the side, careful not to put too much pressure on your barely healed arm.

However, the unfortunate timing of when you pushed yourself up versus when you swung your legs over clashed with each other and you felt your bad ankle get caught in the blanket right as you moved. The sudden surge of pain briefly made you disoriented, which was more than enough to send you tumbling to the ground.

You whimpered in pain as you landed on your left shoulder (which was not the injured one, thankfully). Landing on your side also meant that you avoided hitting your head on anything. A dull ache radiated throughout your body as you rolled over onto your back. Every movement you made sent another wave of pain through you, which elicited more quiet groans of pain from you.

You tried to push yourself up, but you had nothing to grab onto and it hurt your arm too much to keep pushing yourself up. Your abs cried in pain whenever you tried to sit up on your own. You were stuck on the ground.

"Shit," you whispered to yourself. 

You knew the best course of action was to call Levi for help, but you had been so annoyed with his presence recently, that you'd rather lay on the ground and wait for the pain to pass so you could get up yourself.

However, not much time passed before you heard rushed footsteps approaching your door, and a dejected sigh escaped your lips.

You looked over as the door swung open and you saw Levi standing in the doorway with a scowl on his face.

"Hi," you said with a deadpan expression.

"Why the hell didn't you call me?" he asked as he flipped on the light switch, sounding as annoyed as he looked. "How long have you been down there?"

"Not long. I'm fine, Levi."

"No you're not," he said dismissively as he walked to you and helped you get up off the ground.

"I'm not a child, Levi," you said as you sat back down on your bed, rubbing at your left shoulder in pain. "I didn't need your help."

He stared at you, not believing a single word you were saying.

"So you're telling me you were just hugging the ground for the hell of it?"

He waited for you to come up with a snarky response or excuse as to why you were on the ground after he had heard a thud come from your room that didn't involve you tumbling out of your bed involuntarily. 

You didn't have one.

"Dumbass," he finally said. "Stay here."

You sat in your bed with an exasperated expression as you watched Levi walk out of your room after opening up the curtains so that you could get some sunlight. You heard him fumble around in the kitchen for a few minutes before he finally came back to your room with a cup of tea, setting it down on the nightstand next to you. His other hand held your computer, which you found oddly endearing for him to bring to you since he's been trying so hard to get you to not work on anything related to school.

"Could've gotten that myself," you grumbled.

"Could you have?" 

You rolled your eyes. Your arm cast was off, so you were able to move your arm around, although it still wasn't completely healed. You waved your arm to show him that you were functional, but then winced as you moved your arm a bit too far back, which earned you another surge of pain running up your arm. 

Levi stared at you with an unamused look as he watched you blatantly hurt yourself again.

"Quit looking at me like that," you said, frowning. "I can take care of myself. Arm's healed for the most part. I can walk without those stupid crutches now. I-"

"Can you just shut the fuck up so you can heal from this shit already?" Levi scolded, cutting you off, getting sick of your commentary.

"I don't need you hovering over me 24/7, Levi!"

"Tch. Tell me that when you go for a day without falling on your ass at some point."

He glanced at you again and saw that you were scowling at him.

"I can take care of myself," you said, clenching your fists in frustration, "so quit wasting your time feeling like you have to watch over me."

Levi remained quiet for a few seconds as he turned away, averting his gaze. 

He spoke quietly.

"I just don't want to lose you again, you dumbass."

It had been a few weeks since the accident at this point, yet that feeling of waiting for the other shoe to drop never left. Levi still felt like any minute, something else would happen and you'd slip from his grasp. He couldn't get over the feeling of his heart absolutely sinking once he saw your condition in the wreckage or how he had relentlessly scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed until his arms were raw in that hospital bathroom in a desperate attempt to scrub away all of the chaos running through his mind as he waited for you in the operating room. He felt that if he had slipped up in any way, something would happen, and you would have to pay the price for it.

"Shit," he mumbled. "Why do you have to do this to me, _____?"

"Do what?"

He looked down at his hands, remembering the sight of them after he dropped you off at the hospital. The events of that stormy night kept running through his head, as if he was trapped in it. 

Levi looked back up into your eyes. You were here in front of him, awake and breathing—the opposite of when he found you in that car, unconscious, bleeding, with unstable breathing patterns. You were here. You were okay. He had no reason to still feel as panicked as he was, yet he did.

Before you could open your mouth to speak, he reached out to you, closing the gap between you, and planting his lips onto yours. His hand rested at the side of your face as he held you.

You tensed at first at the sudden gesture, but quickly relaxed into it as you kissed him back, placing your hand on top of his.

He pulled back from you and avoided your gaze as he whispered:

"I can't lose you again." 

You noticed him gripping at your bedsheets with his other hand and the pieces clicked together for you.

It wasn't that he thought you couldn't take care of yourself or that you were incompetent. He'd been so overbearing because he was afraid of losing you. You had guessed to an extent how rough that night must have been for him, but you had no idea about the magnitude of just how bad it was.

You felt your bed shift as he got up and your hands trailed off him as he pulled away.

"I'll be in the living room," he said quietly, still avoiding your gaze. "Call me if something happens again."

You reached out to him as he walked away.

"Levi, wait-!"

Your bedroom door was shut before you could finish your plea for him to come back, and you fell silent.

#: @levisbrat25 @gothgril69 @sckerman @berrijam @notgoodforlife @meowjaa @averysmolbear @roseofdarknessblog @bejewelledd @hhighkey @ayame236 @sad-darksoul @velouria17 @kamyru @l1zk4 @layenacreates @lamees004 @whoami-72 @highgoon69 @chaotic-on-main @levishotgf @nube55 @chosos-mascara @heichoucleanfreak @svftackerman @v4mp-wife @moonchild-angel @astri-ackerman @auriuswolve @noctemys

[dumbmusclehypnojockboy]

Odds & Ends: The Muscle Shirt, a Sk8ter Dreams story

9,900 Subscribers SPECIAL

Thank you everyone! In the lead up to the big 10,000 subs, I'm going to be posting some of my oldest original stuff. I used to be a tf writer known as LanceFan2001 or Ikaika. I frequented cyoc.net and the narcississ archive (i think it's the predecessor to the current GSS.com) and the original gay muscle story archives.

These were the days that we had to put warning lables before we posting gay stuff. It was a time before network admins or parental controls, It was a different world. But maybe not so different.

I was lucky to find a community, and someone important to me, whom I have lost contact with was O'Melissokomos: The Bee Keeper. He had his own site, that was part transformation stories part political news blog. It just worked. Anyway, he illustrated this story. I am so thankful that CYOC still has those images. So, I present,for the first time with illustrations , Odds & Ends: The Muscle Shirt.

Odds and Ends: the Muscle Shirt

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction depicting gay sex. If reading such material is offensive to you, or if you are under the legal age to read such material, please read something else.

Author's Note: This is a tale in the Sk8ter Dreams universe spin- off, "Odds and Ends". Special Thanks goes out to Reaver who started this universe.

Second Author's Note: This story is not meant to offend ANYONE. It is FANTASY, and should be taken as so. Thank you! >>>Ikaika<;<<

Trent Stephens dried his hair with a towel he had taken to storing in his school locker-yet again. This time, some freshman jocks had the pleasure of "flushing" him. You would think that as a high school senior, Trent would be the one administering that particular rite of passage, or at the very least would garner a little respect from the incoming freshmen. Sadly, he did neither.

Perhaps it was because of his appearance that he faired so poorly with his peers. Trent stood at 5'6", and weighed 235 pounds, most of it fat. He never wore any trendy clothing, instead, sticking to a wardrobe consisting of thrift store finds. Perhaps, adding to Trent's position on the bottom of the social ladder, was the combined fact that he was the new kid, who had no backbone.

Trent was also a nerd. Growing up, while the other boys were outside, playing tag or participating in sports, he preferred to sit in the library and read books, or sit in front of his custom-built computer, and play games. He really had no friends either. He obviously didn't fit in with the jocks or trend setters, and even the computer nerds felt that he was too geeky for their clique.

Trent slammed his locker shut, and with a clumsy, jerking movement, swung his book bag over his shoulder. Just as he was leaving the school, his backpack, filled to the brim with books for school, and "a little light reading", ripped at the seams, causing one of the straps to tear, and littering the deserted hallway with his books and folder paper. "Shit," he silently cursed, "What else can go wrong today?"

It took Trent about 15 minutes to pick up his things, and find a plastic bag to put his stuff in. He exited the school, and made his way to the bust stoop. As he approached the stop, he heard the bus approaching. He ran for it, only to be left behind in a cloud of dust, as the bus zoomed past.

"Great," he thought to himself, "looks like I'm walking home again."

Luckily for Trent, he only lived a mile from the school. He began his trek home, huffing and puffing in the hot and humid August sun.

He passed the many banks, stores and strip malls that were a common sight in suburbia, not paying too much attention to what he was seeing. He walked by a bakery, enjoying the smells waffing in the air. He pressed his face against the glass to see what treats were available for sale inside. As he glanced back towards the sidewalk, he noticed something unusual. The lot next to the bakery, that had been empty ever since Trent had moved to town, was now filled. In it, a store had appeared, almost overnight. Green awning lined the front and the sides of the store, and a sign reading "Odds & Ends", displayed the name of the establishment.

His curiosity piqued, Trent entered the store, and he heard the jingle of a bell ring overhead. Trent took a moment to look over the shop. It looked like a thrift store, with shelves piled high displaying miscellaneous artifacts. There were also a few racks, tables and bins of clothing, and a shoe rack in the corner. His eyes fell upon one item in particular... a sleeveless, Navy Blue, Abercrombie & Fitch shirt. Trent walked towards the rack, his palms sweating in anticipation. The shirt looked oversized... Really oversized! Just as eh was about to reach for the shirt, a voice called out to him, "Can I help you, sir?"

Trent jumped in surprise. "Where did he come from?" he wondered as he got a look at the person the voice belonged to. He was a teenager, looking both innocent and mature. The shopkeeper was dressed in a baggy green shirt, and had a backwards, sized, baseball cap on with a logo that was unfamiliar to Trent.

"Hi," Trent said, a little shakily.

"Hello," The shopkeeper said, "looking for anything in particular today?"

"Well, this shirt intrigued me," Trent answered. "I've never seen such a large A & F shirt before. Is it genuine?"

"Indeed it is, sir," the shopkeeper said, as he calmly walked to the rack, picked up the shirt, and showed Trent the sewed-in labels.

Trent looked at the labels, the shopkeeper presented. Stitched into the material of the shirt was an original label. It showed the size of the shirt as being a XXL. It also had a second tag sewed in above the main tag that read "muscle."

"I never knew A & F made shirts in a XXL size," Trent quasi-asked, quasi-stated.

"If I'm not mistaken," the merchant replied, "They tried it once, but found that it didn't fit in with their marketing campaign."

"Heh," Trent thought, "their marketing campaign. All those hot models in, but mostly out of their tightly fitted clothing. Those hot bodies... how I wished I had a body like that.

"How much?" Trent asked.

"Only $5.00," the storekeeper responded, "but, I think that it's a little too big for you. Why don't you try it on? The fitting room's right there," he added as he ushered Trent into what looked like a closet with a shower curtain in front of it.

Trent shrugged his shoulders, took the shirt the teen held out, and slid the curtain shut. Feeling a little strange, he shucked off his sweaty polo shirt, and put on the Abercrombie & Fitch tee. Trent looked into the mirror. He felt that the shirt fit him just fine. It wasn't baggy at all. In fact, the vertical white stripes down the sides of the shirt, actually helped Trent look a bit simmer. It was his slight paunch, however, which stretched the shirt out a little, that kind of ruined the effect.

"How does it look sir?" The storekeeper asked, breaking Trent from his train of thought.

"It's a little tight," Trent said.

"Nonsense!" The teen replied, opening the curtain and ushering Trent out of the room, and in front of a mirror mounted on a wall. "Let me take a look."

"It's a muscle shirt," the shopkeeper said, "so, it's supposed to be a little tight." He tugged the shirt in a few places, adjusting a few folds, and smoothing out the shirt. "Looks like a perfect fit to me," he said, admiring his work.

"How can you say that?" Trent asked, a little irritated.

"Look in the mirror."

Trent did as the shopkeeper asked, and was taken aback by what he saw. His stomach wasn't protruding as much as it was just a few moments ago... In fact, his belly seemed to be diminishing, the accumilated fat, just melting away.

"How did that happen?" Trent asked.

"What do you mean sir?"

"That," Trent said, as he pointed to his stomach in the mirror. Trent let out an audible gasp as he was in for another surprise. His once flabby stomach was now gone. He stood transfixed as ridges formed on the shirt, holding tight to his body, and revealing slight definition. The crevices deepened as a four-pack developed into a six-pack which then morphed into a highly defined, ripped eight-pack.

"Whoa... What was THAT?" Trent asked dumbfounded.

"I still don't know what you're talking about sir," the shop keeper said, ignorant to the fact that Trent was changing before his own eyes.

Trent realized that he was now looking down on his companion. He could have sworn that he was eye to eye with the shopkeeper when he had walked into the store.

"This is so fucking cool," Trent said.

"Sir," the shopkeeper responded, "I still don't know what you're talking about..."

But the shopkeeper's remarks were cut short, as Trent doubled over, and reached for his legs. They were cramping... BIG TIME! As he put his hands around his calves, he thought to himself, "They're growing!"

And he was correct in his analysis. Trent's claves were growing. In fact, his whole leg was expanding in both directions. Rock hard muscle developed on his calves and thighs, as they both lengthened. They were engulfed in pain, until finally, the growth stopped. The results were diamond shaped calves, the definition impeccable, and the size of a football. His thighs were so thick, they resembled the trunk of a coconut tree.

Trent then began to feel a pressure around his feet. They felt squeezed into his shoe all of a sudden... suffocating in the tight quarters in which they were contained. Quickly, Trent bent down to take off the shoes. When he did so, he found that his feet were also growing. Creeping past a size 11... slowly stretching, elongating past a 12 �... the bones crunching, crackling and reconstructing themselves, finally stopping at a size 15. His socks then reshaped, and readjusted themselves from knee high tube socks, a pair of Nike no-show socks.

"Are you okay sir," the shopkeeper asked, not really understanding what his customer was going on about.

"I don't kn..." Trent cried out, "But.. but... ARRGGGHHHHHH..."

Trent's comment was cut short by a new pain, this time centered in his chest. On the one hand, he felt like he was being massaged, yet on the other hand, he felt like his chest muscles were being pulled apart. He started sweating profusely, as he gawked in the mirror. His man-tits were disappearing! They were restructuring themselves, turning the once jiggly fat reserves, into solid plates of steel. His pectoral muscles (that's what they were now, not fat, but pure muscles) stretched his shirt to the limit. Trent realized that the shirt he was wearing began to shrink. The bottom hem creeping up, revealing the cobblestone bricks he now had for abs. Trent watched as his nipples shifted, now facing outwards, instead of the downward direction they once faced.

His pecs now pumped, the pain moved to his sides, back and shoulders. Trent's traps, lats and back muscles grew out, forcing his arms to hang at an angle, instead of straight down. His shoulders widened and broadened. The changes finally stopped when Trent's frame looked like a doorway: intimidatingly looming.

Trent didn't have time to comment on this, however, as the pain moved to his arms. Bones crackled and muscles elongated to keep up with his lengthening arms, which grew in proportion to his new physiology. Then, as they stopped their downward journey, his arms began to swell. Like a balloon inflates, Trent's arms blew up, but unlike a balloon, Trent's biceps and triceps were filling up with strong, hard, potent muscle tissue.

Trent's arms continued bulking up, finally reaching a point when his upper arms resembled basketballs. His skin was stretched tight, that it appeared his skin was no more than a sheet of paper. The feeling shot from the arms, down to the forearms. They pumped up, increasing in size, finally looking like miniature legs of lamb, but without any of the fat.

Next, Trent's hands expanded. Growing to mach the size of the rest of his body... HUGE! Joints popped, bones broke apart and reformed, and ligaments and tendons realigned themselves until Trent could more than easily palm a bowling ball... yes, a bowling ball!

At this point, Trent looked into the mirror, and realized what was happening. He saw his solid body, rippling with newly formed mass and muscle. He was turning into a jock. He was becoming one of those jocks he had always fantasized about being. One of those jocks that had always picked on him. The very jocks he detested, yet, subconsciously longed to be.

With that thought, an erotic rush came over Trent's body, centered in his groin. He accepted these changes... No... not accepted, he embraced them... welcomed them. Then, he felt movement on his thighs, and realized that his briefs were turning into boxer briefs... The underwear inched down his thighs, and fit tightly over the densely packed muscles of Trent's thighs and bubble butt. Then, he felt more movement, and an electric shock in his penis. "No, not my penis," Trent corrected himself, "My cock... my fuck stick."

He felt his cock snake down his thighs, and was surprised when the growth seemed to complete itself when it reached about three-quarters of the way down his thigh. Another erotic rush shook his body, as his balls swelled in size from the size of grapes to the size of golf balls, and even then, a little bit bigger. Trent's nutsack dropped, and met expanded to match the growth of its contents.

"UUUGGGH!" Trent grunted, his now deep voice, echoing with a bassy resonance. "Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed, a new sensation spreading across his face and neck.

"Sir," the shopkeeper said, "If you're going to be a while in front of that mirror, I'll just be doing a few things that need to get done. Just call me if I can help you with anything." And with that, he disappeared from Trent's view.

Trent watched in the mirror as his face rearranged itself. First, his eyes lightened, going from a dark brown, to hazel, passing pale green, and finally stopping at a bright, mesmerizing blue. His cheekbones and facial structure transfigured, giving Trent more angular features, raising his cheekbones higher, and squaring off his jaw. Then, his nose collapsed, and reconstructed itself, giving Trent a nose that appeared to have been broken a few times, yet still having a shape that perfectly matched his other facial features. The pieces of the puzzle coming together, Trent looked into the mirror, and marveled at the fact that the face looking back at him was a face that could be on billboards, magazine covers, and even in the Abercrombie and Fitch Quarterly!

Trent's hair lightened in color. Changing in a few seconds from black, to a sun-highlighted, bleached blond look. It filled in fuller, and thicker than ever before, and all of a sudden, his scalp started itching, as it all started receding back into his skull. All that was lift was a short crew cut, with the sides and back faded down, and his bangs up-turned and spiked out. Then, he watched as his sideburns filled out.

The itching exploded all over his body, as all the hair on his chest, legs, arms, abdomen, back, underarms and crotch, retracted back into his skin. The itching continued as fine blond hairs, started filling in creating just a very slight treasure trail that lead to a very well trimmed and maintained patch of hair. His balls still remained hairless, as did the rest of his body, which would forever remain so. Trent's skin then started darkening. It changed from the pasty white that he once was, and darkened into a rich, golden tan. His complexion was simply perfect, and his whole body just radiated a glowing aura.

All of a sudden, Trent clutched his chest. It felt like something was moving in his heart. He felt something crawling under his skin, and in a moment, he realized that the sensation was veins. Veins snaking their way across his body, down and across his chest and abdomen. Veins popped along his legs, and arms, forming obvious webs and patterns here and there. And then veins started popping along his newly muscled neck.

Trent was feeling pumped! He felt the strength that he now possessed welling inside of him. As he made a double bicep pose in the mirror, he froze. He wanted to stop posing, to go into a most muscular pose (something that he never knew about before), but was frozen in place. Something was wrong... something was tickling him? Trent looked into the mirror at his stomach, and saw that his clothing was now changing. The shirt he tried on remained the blue and white sleeveless Abercrombie and Fitch shirt that it was, however, bottom hem crept up, and took on the appearance of a cut-off tee-shirt.

His former jeans, which now looked like ridiculous high-waters, tied on with a cloth belt (which seemed to have tightened itself throughout the transformation) altered themselves. They grew longer to match Trent's new height. Then, they changed colors. In some places it got darker, turning into a dark brown or black. In other areas, the jeans lightened, turning olive or light green. Then, as a whole, the jeans began to fade, looking as if they had been washed many, many times. Rips and tears appeared randomly, and Trent's belt's excess length hung in front, perhaps hinting at the massive organ that Trent now possessed. The pants had become a pair of waist 28, vintage wash cammos from Abercrombie and Fitch.

The shoes that Trent had cast off earlier now faded out of reality. They disappeared from sight! A brand new pair of black and white Nike cross-trainers formed on his feet.

Trent's book bag then began to flicker. It elongated and widened, darkening to black. A logo appeared on it, finally revealing itself to be the Adidas logo. Trent's backpack had become a gym bag. The books that were in a plastic bag next to the backpack disappeared, gone from Trent's memory, and the memory of the world. The new gym bag filled itself with workout clothing, a pair of shoes, and a jock strap. Not to mention a few other items... condoms and lube!

Suddenly, a sharp, throbbing pain erupted in his head. Trent quickly reached for his temples. It was like a vise was pressing his head, squeezing tighter and tighter. "ARRRRGH," Trent screamed in anguish, "My fucking head! What the fuck is happening to m... ARRRGH!" The pain was incredible!

A new feeling was added to the torture he was enduring. From somewhere within his cranial cavity, it felt like his brains were being forced through a small sieve. Trent's natural ability to learn, and hold knowledge of the world decreased. His very IQ lowered, nearing 90. Things Trent learned from school and books seeped from his head, leaving an empty brain. "Fucking A man, make this stop," Trent cried out, still in pain.

As the torture continued, Trent's brain rewrote itself with information. It filled with knowledge about working out, nutrition, and sports. Trent could no longer tell you the state capitols, but he could tell you that he worked out everyday for two hours, doing bench presses, cable flies, and bicep curls. He could ramble of rosters from sports teams. He didn't know anything about foreign trade policies, but he now knew that the Camero was a bitchin' ride.

Trent's attitudes changed. He now had an aversion for geeks and nerds. His life revolved around, hot guys, hot cars, hot sex, and flexing his muscles on and off the sports field. His world now focused on keggers, and his vocabulary now only encompassed simple words and phrases. Trent no longer would be the sniveling coward who just took everything that came his way. He would now be a cocky jock, who had an air of arrogance and confidence in everything that he did. And his voice, no longer would Trent be confused for a woman on the phone. Instead, his testosterone charged voice boomed with a bassy resonance.

And, as suddenly as the pain started, it stopped in an instant.

"Whoa," Trent said, "That was one nasty trip. I wonder if that's the ephidra in Xenadrine or somethin'."

The sales person came back to the dressing area. Not having heard or seen Trent in a while, he was a little concerned about his customer. "You still doing okay, sir?" he asked.

"Yeah, dude," Trent replied, "I'm okay. That was one hell of a rush!"

"Sorry sir."

"Not your fault guy," Trent said, "what do I owe you for the shirt?"

"Let's see now," the shop keeper said, "Five dollars for the shirt."

Trent reached into his pocket, and retrieved his money, having a little difficulty counting out five ones.

"Thanks man, that's fucking cheap! Let me know if you get anymore in." Trent said after handing the kid his money. "I gotta go to the gym... There's a stud waiting for me, and he's gonna be in for the pounding of his life," he added, thinking about how the star quarterback was his own personal boy toy. Man, this shirt is gonna look awesome on me tomorrow when I start going to my new school `Trent Hall's School for Young Adults'."

"I'm sure it will sir," the shop keeper replied.

And with that, Trent Stephens picked up his gym bag, and walked out the door, the bell overhead jingling one last time, and headed out to his new life.

"Another satisfied customer," the mysterious shopkeeper said to no one in particular. •

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Please let me know if you liked this retro post. I have some others that are in reserve, so if you would like to see me post more, like and comment!

[reasoningdaily]

First Steps and Beyond Aims to Reduce Black Infant Mortality

Director Takiyah Durham, MBA, and Margaret Larkins-Pettigrew, MD, share how the program is improving maternal and infant care in Pittsburgh, PA, at Highmark Health.

Despite advanced resources, infant mortality rates are rising. The First Steps and Beyond initiative, prompted by a 2015 University of Pittsburgh study, targets health disparities in the city, particularly the alarming death rates among Black babies. Highmark Health and Allegheny Health Network (AHN) have partnered to tackle this issue, with the ultimate goal of ensuring every Black baby reaches their first birthday.

The director of First Steps and Beyond at Enterprise Equitable Health Institute Takiyah Durham, MBA, and senior vice president and chief diversity officer of Highmark Health/AHN, Margaret Larkins-Pettigrew, MD, professor and academic chair of obstetrics and gynecology at Drexel University College of Medicine, discuss the program’s objective to reduce these rates through community collaboration, focusing on preterm births, racial disparities, safe sleep practices, and trimester support.

Transcript:

What was the motivation behind the initiation of First Steps and Beyond?

Takiyah Durham, MBA: So, if we kind of put things into perspective, we know that the United States has one of the highest rates when it comes to maternal mortality and infant mortality. Despite having the most resources via one of the most technologically advanced nations, our infant mortality rates continue to rise.

When we think about that, it helps me to go back to the mortality review committee's findings. So, we look across the country; 2 out of 3 pregnancy-related deaths are preventable. So we think about those stats. If 2 of 3 pregnancy-related deaths are preventable, we think about if we had the right systems in place, the right resources in place, being one of the most advanced nations in the world, how we could really impact infant mortality.

And if we drill down to Pittsburgh, to Allegheny County, and we look at our statistics, Black babies in Allegheny County are 2 to 3 times more likely to die before their first birthday. So, we put those things into perspective and we think about the risk factors from social determinants of health disparity component, and we group that into who it impacts the most. It goes back to Black babies and Black birthing people. And so with First Steps and Beyond, we want to ensure that every Black baby celebrates his first birthday.

In order to do that, it requires an all-hands-on-deck approach, a community approach, and what we've formed is a community collaborative. We are focused on Black maternal and infant mortality in Allegheny County because of the rates and who it impacts. What we would love to do is make sure every baby makes it to their first birthday and beyond, and also help to impact those mortality rates.

Some of our focuses, or our goals, would be the preterm birth rates, the racial inequalities, the safe sleep, and also 4 trimester support. Those areas that are most impacted by infant mortality and maternal disparities. And we'll get into that, hopefully today.

Margaret Larkins-Pettigrew, MD: So, I just wanted to add a little bit to that only because when we talk about why here–and Takiyah already mentioned the fact that in Allegheny County, we want to make a difference–is we know that if we make some significant efforts as it relates to implementing interventions that effect and decrease the death of Black babies, that we decrease the death of all babies, which is why she said we need to decrease the death of all babies.

That number should be zero. As it turns to maternal health and neonatal health or death of babies, that number should be zero in our country, because most of the deaths are because of preventable causes.

And then the whole issue of why here in Pittsburgh, Dr. Miller and her crew at the University of Pittsburgh did a study back in 2015, I believe it's older now. And based on that study, she identified multiple areas within our city alone, that have large gaps in health disparities. Not only incorporating what happens in the social determinants of health area, but also that big gap that includes not only, cardiovascular disease, cancers, incarcerations of young African American and other Black populations, but one of the ones that really rose to the top, of course, was the death of Black babies.

And that's why Highmark (Health) and AHN decided, if we start anywhere, let's start here. And if we can make a difference here then we can do some things in some other areas of health disparities.