gentle reminder that if u feel hungry soon after eating, it might be bc you’re eating mostly carbs without adding enough protein. try eating a handful of nuts or smthing alongside your next meal.
and you don’t have to change the recipe or anything! you can eat what you were going to, just add some cheese cubes or a handful of nuts or salami slices on the side. u don’t have to change your meals, just add a little extra protein
thats nice but what do I need to do If I wake up around 3 am every other night with an unquenchable hunger for flesh even tho I ate normal balanced meals trough the day?
Listen I get it but you CANNOT use "sensory nightmare" as an excuse to avoid essential things. You HAVE to find a way to make it work, such as finding effective alternatives. But you can't just avoid it.
You need to eat some vegetables in your diet or you will become a lich.
You have to wear a life jacket or you will literally drown and die.
You need to be able to exist in public spaces with children.
good LORD the piss is flying all over the place in that comment section! If you're poor do NOT leave your house you're definitely gonna get caught in the crossfire.
“Why didn’t Dick and Cassie Sandsmark believe Tim about Bruce being alive?”
He didn’t actually give them any evidence for it before running away. Didn’t even try to convince them beyond saying “he’s alive, I’ll prove it.”
He’d spent the past year trying to resurrect his dead family and friends. After 100+ cloning attempts and almost stealing Lazarus pit water, this just looks like Tim’s typical grieving pattern.
Dick, Tim, and Clark personally examined Bruce’s dead body and determined it was his!
Tim’s inner monologue in Red Robin 1 shows even he knows he’s driven by desperate hope and compounded grief: “He’s all I have and he has to be alive…Please, god, don’t let me be crazy.”
If Tim had turned out to be wrong I honestly believe he still would’ve gone looking for a way to bring Bruce back. Just like he did with Kon, Bart, Steph, Jack, and Janet.
Red Robin follows so clearly from Tim’s grief from losing Jack Drake and everyone else. DCU Halloween Special ‘09: “Our Father’s Sins” made this even more obvious by showing Red Robin Tim reflecting on his grief over Jack while he’s searching for Bruce.
Of course his friends and family think he’s grieving! He is! He just also happens to be right. Nobody is completely unjustified here.
Golden Age sidekick backstory: Well I'll be chuffed, that Dickensian orphan boy I watched bravely stand up to his bullies on the street corner has stowed away in my Marmot-mobile, and now he's seen my secret identity! I suppose I'll keep him as an ambiguous pet of sorts. Here child, put on these tights. You are now MarmoLad.
Modern Age sidekick backstory: Remember your high school sweetheart from that one flashback adventure in 1973? Well she's dead so you don't have to worry about it, but guess what: the one time you did it, she ended up pregnant and didn't tell you. The baby was raised by a shadowy conspiracy of your most marketable villains, who kept them in a hyperloop bubblespace so they grew up super fast while also going through unspeakable torture and being raised to hate you. It's okay though after one appropriately dramatic fight you hug it out and the new Marmolad is instantly born.
Marmolad II was the result of a very unfortunate early 2000s continuity reboot, where they decided his name was actually Marmalade and he was orange-preserve themed. They retconned him out of existence five years after he was introduced. The fandom doesn't like to talk about it.
Bruce Wayne wakes to a pair of blue eyes inches from his own. It takes him completely by surprise, especially when the eyes slowly bleed in green, and he's just about to give in to the reflex of punting whatever it is away when, at the last possible second, the eyes speak.
"Did you sleep with my parents?"
Bruce opens and closes his mouth, stunned by the accusation. A few seconds go by, during which his foggy mind attempts to fight off lack of sleep long enough to make sense of the growled question.
It obviously took too much time for whoever this is for they sigh impatiently.
The eyes move back, and now when they are no longer taking up his entire view, Bruce can see its a creature of some sort. It's humanoid enough that Bruce would even suspect it of being a teenage boy. It's also oddly familiar, as if he resembled someone Bruce knew a long time ago.
"Did you?" The boy repeats, his articulation sharp as steel.
The double raised eyebrows, the slight head tilt, and even the click of a tongue are all habits that scratch a part of Bruce's brain, and like a dam bursting apart, memories flood his head.
"Oh," he breathes, eyes roaming the creature's face, identifying each feature that he stole from his parents. "You're Jack and Maddie Fenton's. You have your mother's glare and your father's face shape."
The creature, for it can no longer be entirely human with that glow, neon eyes, and the fact that it is levitating as if gravity were an unsolicited opinion, narrowed its eyes. "That's right I am. My name is Danny Fenton"
"Danny," Bruce repeats, tasting the sound on his tongue. He can help, but soften his expression at the confirmation that his old lovers kept the name they used to casually talk about. "Its lovely. Where you named after-"
"The street dog that Dad chased until he crashed into window around the back patio of som rich guy. The same rich guy my Mom was trying to seduce by pretending she needed chemistry tutoring, in the very same patio" Danny huffs, repeating the story he likely heard a thousand times in his life.
Bruce chuckles "Jack always had grand entrances. What are you doing here, Danny?"
Danny frown, bitting his lip before pointing to his hair. Bruce watches it switch between dark black and pure snow white, as well as his flickering eyes that can't seem to decide if they should be blue or green "I need a transplant"
"Are you sick?" Bruce frets twisting the blanket in one hand. If this child was here, based on his age, then he likely came to ask Bruce for a kidney or liver. This is likely his son.
Wow
"Somewhat?" Danny runs a frustrated hand through his hair. Bruce admires how the action causes some strands to stay white. It winds up giving his son salt-and-pepper hair. "A couple of days ago I had an accident during a fight. My core took a nasty hit, and now both sides of being are mixing. I can't control my appearance anymore. My Yeti said I need a soul piece transplant, but it has to be someone comparable. Neither my mom, dad, nor sister is a match, so my mom suggested you might be. Since you are likely my biological father. I know its a lot to ask-"
"Should we go see your Yeti today and prep for the surgery? It is a surgery, isnt it?" Bruce sits up, discarding the fact he undstoood only a third of what the boy said, to focus on the important part. His son needed him. "How do we test to see if we're a match?"
Danny squints at him, before folding his arms over his chest "This doesn't mean I'll become your heir or break up my parents for you"
Bruce blinks "Of course. Why would it?"
"My parents are happily married!"
The man nods, reaching for the robe by his bed. He always slept shirtless, but depending on the season he wore pajamas pants or a pair of briefs. Thankfully, he choose the pants last night. "I am aware. They had fun with me, but they didn't love me. Not the way they loved eachother. Jack and Maddie are soulmates."
A loaded silence goes by before Danny's glow spikes up. Bruce fights the urge to look away, wondering if his son somehow got his DNA spliced with a star or even if his ex-lovers weren't as human as he had thought. Danny now looks like a human outline made of light as the boy looks down at his hand, and shakes it around.
He is obviously trying to shake off the brightness, but it doesn't seem to work, for the boy throws his arms into the air and folds his legs under him. Bruce's eyes start to water from the strain of keeping eye contact- or what he assumes is eye contact. He can't make out the boy's face.
"Gah! I hate this!" Danny whines, "I just want this to be over!"
"We'll get the test done as quickly as possible," Bruce promises, moving over to his closet. "Do I need to pack ann overnight bag for the hospital?"
Danny doesn't have a chance to answer because Alfred chooses to speak out. His butler stands in the doorway, holding a tray of Bruce's morning coffee and pastry.
"Master Bruce? Who are you talking to?" The aged man asks glancing around the room
"My possible son with the Fentons," Bruce replies, waving a hand at Danny, who is still just light. He gets the feeling his boy is studying Alfred closely.
"The Fentons?" Pity and worry clouds Alfred's voice as he slowly creeps closer. Carefully he lowers the tray on the coffee table on the right side of the room. Just as delicately, Alfred replies "Master Bruce. The Fentons broke up with you"
A laugh, half hysterical- half devastated, leaves Bruce throat before he can stop it. "Yeah they broke my heart! Taught me that I was unlovable no matter how hard I tried. HA HA HA HA!"
"Oh" Danny winces. "This is worst then the fruitloop."
What’s better— the thread is filled with people giving some good advice on how to respect a woman’s boundaries and how to ask what she would be okay with, publicly. Lots of trans girls thanking him for being so patient and thoughtful with his words, and lots of people cautioning him that his purpose as a boyfriend would be to keep her safe, even from his own friends and family if need be. A+ shit right here.
hey, trans girls who are into guys? THIS is what you deserve. don’t you ever believe that you have to bend over backwards for men to like you, that you have to accept being disrespected and mistreated, that you’re something to hide or be ashamed of. you’re beautiful, you’re a fucking princess, and you deserve someone who sees that and loves you deeply and unconditionally, who will choose you over the world and fight the world for you. THIS is the kind of guy.
There is no actual, tangible reason why we allow people to starve, to be homeless, to suffer and die needlessly. Food is plentiful. Empty homes are plentiful. Medicine is plentiful. It’s hidden away behind constructs and we pretend those constructs mean something. There is an empty home and a homeless family, give them it. There is a sick child and common medicine to treat it, give it to them. There is a starving person and so much food wasted by corporations or hidden behind a dollar sign, feed them.
Ozempic scares the shit out of me. You're telling me there's a drug that takes away both the craving side of hunger and targets the brain's rewards center for eating. You're telling me it takes the joy out of eating and it turns you into a skeleton. Why did we turn The Curse of the Black Pearl into a drug. What the fuck.
I actually want to thank the diabetics coming on this post like "actually it genuinely is a great treatment for diabetes and it hasn't affected my mood or my enjoyment of food. The real issue is it's getting abused as a weight loss drug which also makes it scarce and more expensive for those who can genuinely benefit from it." Kind of reminds me of the time my brother got permission from our family psychiatrist to try my ADHD medication and his reaction to it was "what the fuck are you on. WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU ON. WHY DO I FEEL LIKE CRYING. YOU'RE ON THIS EVERY DAY!?!"
Body chemistry! It makes a big difference in how your body processes a drug! What can be genuinely helpful for some folks is The Curse of the Black Pearl for others!
my best tip for anyone trying to get back into reading is to remember that you can read books to avoid other responsibilities in ur life and it can become a vice if you play your cards right
listen to me, this is so so important: you've gotta get used to really giving it your 60% as a default. like don't half-ass it necessarily but try not to go over 70% or so of an ass. you'll feel better and live a happier more fulfilled life, and on the rare occasions where you do need to lock the fuck in you'll be able to pull off bullshit that the sad miserable wretches giving it their 100% can never dream off, because they're busy draining themselves dry and you have energy reserves to spare.
it has come to my attention there exists a subset of reenactors who go around renaissance faires "infecting" bystanders with the Plague. i wish to thank these heroes for their service
yes this can come in the form of dressing up as a pack of rats and offering people "Congratulations! You've Contracted The Black Death" hand stamps, but consider also:
walking around asking people if they want to pet your rat (plushie)
going in character as a fur trader carting around a wagon full of exotic wares at competitive prices
handing people a business card containing only the printed image of a flea (and on the back, the text "uh-oh!")
okay if this breaks containment I think my asian grandparents would be proud of this post being my legacy. but for their sake i must clarify my personal stance. NO SHOES IN THE HOUSE AT ALL
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