[🔞 hopekook, rimming] happy vday if you celebrate it, last night i fell asleep thinking about a horny hopekook date where they set aside time to cuddle and watch something soothing and mindless. jk chooses a nature documentary, more for background ambiance than anything else.

they start out with hobi laying crosswise on the couch, and jk crawls between his legs, rests his head on hobi's sternum. he likes to cuddle like that because he can hear hobi's heartbeat. also hobi will usually skritch his scalp when they're in this position.

he's doing that now, running his fingers from jk's forehead to the nape of his neck, but then he scoops along jk's ear instead. fingertips smoothing along the shell curve and then gently tugging on his earlobe. he keeps doing it, repetitive. the apartment is warm.

and quiet, too, except for the doc in the bg and the soft sounds of their breathing. hobi's fingertips keep tugging easily, gently on his ear lobe and all of a sudden jk realizes he's getting hard. he doesn't pay it much mind, one or both of them often do when they cuddle, even

if it's just a cuddle session & not anything further. but then hobi moves his leg, feels it, laughs softly, & moves his leg again - this time, deliberately. jk smiles, rubbing his mouth against hobi's sweatshirt. he rolls his hips, real slow like, and feels hobi's dick, too.

Thread: A personal episode from the past that I feel is very relevant to be shared today, especially for parents of young girls.

I was 18, when my first cousin morphed my face with that of a male school friend in extremely compromising position.

Very believable for anyone without knowledge of tech.

I was devastated. This was a brother I looked upto. This was the brother I had given my laptop to so he could apply for jobs. And on the same laptop, he made those photographs of me, his younger sister.

Why did he do that? He was kicked out of his house by his family after he married a girl w/o their consent. He was homeless, so my parents let him stay with us till my his family cools down & accepts them back. After 6 months, he felt threatened he'd be asked to leave our place.

So one day, he confronts my parents, infront of me, with those pictures and shows those photographs, with clear terms - pay him & his wife a fixed amount every month, let them stay at our home or he would leak those pictures everywhere.

I still remember he explained how he would distribute those pictures on the day they would get me married 😂

I don't know how any other parent from lower middle class would have reacted to this. But I remember how my parents did, that changed my relationship with them forever.

I started TRT before the age of 30.

I did it because I wanted to, not because I needed to.

My Total Testosterone Levels (naturally) were just above 700 ng/dl

That's **Good, but not Great**

I wanted to be at 1,000 ng/dl (GREAT)

...

So, I talked a doctor into prescribing me Testosterone Cypionate.

NO DOCTOR IN AMERICA is going to agree to prescribe TRT to a man who is naturally at 700ng/dl

So, I intentionally crashed my natural T levels down to 300-400 ng/dl, then got bloodwork done

(I intentionally made my natural T levels look far lower than what they really were)

How did I intentionally crash my natural testosterone levels? (to go from 700 nd/dl, to 300-400ng/dl)

Bloodwork was planned for Thursday

...

Tuesday and Wednesday Night, intentionally get trash quality sleep (balls can't produce testosterone when you are sleep deprived)

Drink a ton of alcohol Wednesday Night (high alcohol consumption suppresses testosterone levels)

As people are sharing what they were doing as a 21 year old, here is a story I would like to share. I might never have shared this but for the shameless defence of violence, insurrection and treachery, crookedly citing compassion for youthfulness.

A classmate of mine was weak in studies. Would sometimes fail in all subjects. Had a tough childhood. From Std V onwards, he and his elder brother would sell ice water on cart (oldies will remember those steel carts) infront of a cinema hall for 25p per glass.

While asking for money, he would sometimes even get slapped by people barking "saale paani ke paise maangega". His elder brother, a sweet and shy boy, still in school, was killed in a rivalry by a local goon to "teach a lesson" to his father.

After the killing, the frightened family moved to Delhi. My friend couldn't pass XII std.His father who had always been mean and harsh with children continued to be so. One day he asked friend's mother to pack him a lunch and ordered his son not to return home till he found a job

For 4 days the boy returned without finding a job. Every night he would be thrashed. Fifth day the boy didnt return. He had taken refuge at Mama's place who was kind to him. But Maami extracted her pound of flesh. He did all the household chores and was last to be served meals.

Some of you will probably know I'm currently grieving. It's a month since my fantastic sister died. I've been thinking a lot about loss, progress and reckoning and coming to terms, both personally and as a society. And I've been wondering: how will we remember the pandemic dead?

The UK is filled with memorials to the dead of wars, of disasters, of lifeboat crews and atrocities. We are a landscape haunted by attempts to remember the brave and the innocent. Villages, towns, businesses, communities: all grouped together to pay for plaques, statues, gardens

I have a terror that in our desire to get 'back to normal' we will forget those lost and things lost during the current pandemic. There's not an enemy they were overcome by; not a single flashpoint of tragedy. Those lost to the pandemic are an uncomfortable reminder of failure

Rebecca Solnit talks about hope only coming from knowing history. People may be optimistic about the future post-covid-19, but that's just desire and dream. For us to build a hopeful future we need to acknowledge and feel what has been lost; to repair and grow, not just erase

The thing is, I don't know if our communities know how to remember what is lost, not in ways that are meaningful to all of that community. Religion is a great enabler of remembrance, but that's not something everyone has. I'm wondering how we fully inhabit our collective sorrow

I'm going to write a thread on the way #autistic people perceive pain. Something that I haven't talked about much before. #autism /1

For some #autistic people, what neurotypicals might interpret as mild pain actually feels like sensory hell. Some autistic people are really sensitive to pain. #autism /2

It's important that medical professionals understand this. Even if they think that it's mild pain, it's actual sensory hell for the #autistic person.#autism /3

Medical professionals shouldn't accuse #autistic people of being "silly" or being "extra" if they are sensitive to pain. This has happened to me before. Medical professionals shouldn't invalidate the way autistic people perceive pain. #autism /4

Some medical professionals just don't have enough understanding of the way #autistic people perceive pain. I hope this thread will help them understand better. #autism /5