#abstinence-only programs

[the-cimmerians]

Today, ProPublica reports on yet another big change that stands to solve a decades-long problem we first learned about back in 2016, closing a huge loophole that allowed states to divert federal antipoverty funds to governors’ pet projects, like promoting abstinence, holding “heathy marriage” classes that did nothing to prevent out-of-wedlock births, funding anti-abortion “clinics” to lie about abortion “risks,” sending middle-class kids to private colleges, and other schemes only tangentially related to helping poor kids. It’s the same loophole that Mississippi officials tried to drive a truck through to divert welfare funds to former sportsball man Brett Favre’s alma mater, for a volleyball palace. [ ]

The agency has proposed new rules — open for public comment until December 1 — aimed at nudging states to actually use TANF funds to give cash to needy parents, not fill budget holes or punish poor people.

One change will put an end to the scheme Utah used to substitute LDS church funds for welfare, by prohibiting states

from counting charitable giving by private organizations, such as churches and food banks, as “state” spending on welfare, a practice that has allowed legislatures to budget less for programs for low-income families while still claiming to meet federal minimums.

Another new rule will put the kibosh on using TANF to fund child protective services or foster care programs, which are not what TANF is supposed to be for, damn it.

And then there’s the simple matter of making sure that funds for needy families go to needy families, not to pet projects that have little to do with poverty:

The reforms would also redefine the term “needy” to refer only to families with incomes at or below 200% of the federal poverty line. Currently, some states spend TANF money on programs like college scholarships — or volleyball stadiums — that benefit more affluent people.

#us politics #in support of an informed and engaged electorate #TANF #cash assistance

[lokischocolatefountain]

Holdout || Fraternize

Congressman!Javier Peña AU

Fandom: Narcos

Pairing: Javier Peña x Reader

Rating: 18+

Warnings: smut, fingering, arguments, period typical misogyny, American politics, inappropriate workplace behavior, office sex, kinda fem!dom, discussions of healthcare policy, inaccuracies regarding American politics

Word count: 4.5k

Summary: Sometimes it was better to talk face to face than to send his lackeys to speak for him. And who knows? Maybe he’ll get a sweet deal out of it. If nothing else, she was at least a good time.

A/N: I know Javi has nothing but disdain for politics and politicians. He would’ve pushed those DC guys out of the helicopter in season 3 if they’d asked more stupid questions. But it’s the same season 3 Javi who put in all those suits and ties and combed his hair neatly and walked around looking like a WHORE. So it’s actually his fault that I’m writing him as a politician. As usual, give your girl some comments and reblogs 🥹🥹🥹

Tagging: @art-estrange

“How many holdouts, Donna?”

“Thirteen.”

“Fuck,” he whispered, knowing instantly from the number which faction of congresspeople had refused to agree to vote for the bill. He also knew who the ringleader of this group of thirteen was. Without her approval, the other twelve wouldn’t even breathe let alone vote yes. An abstinence, maybe. But a yes? Impossible. She was also one of the few who could reach across the aisle to get them the votes he and Murphy needed to pass the bill in Congress.

“What exactly does she want?”

“Bunch of stuff,” said Donna, flipping open the binder that contained the draft of the Child Health Assistance Program bill. From his seat, Javier could see the color coded remarks that decorated the pages. Only when it went to her office did it come back with the fucking rainbow splattered in the pages. When he was a freshman to congress, the outgoing congressman from his district had warned him about her.

Difficult. Nerdy. Pretentious. A fucking bitch. An absolute cunt.

He would never say the last two things about her, of course. If he so much as thought them, his mama would fly to DC and slap him.

“The premium increase on Medicaid for one. She thinks it’s too much. Did some math on the side, too,” she said, unfolding a sticky note that contained some scribbled out numbers. “She accounted for the average household income nationally and in her district and adjusted for projected inflation and arrived at an increase by 3% on the financial burden on families. She made a calculation for our district, too. And by Stoddard’s calculations, her estimate is accurate.”

“Right, right,” he said, taking a puff of his cigarette and blowing the smoke out towards the open window. “Has anyone told her that healthcare expenses have increased and we cannot afford to keep the Part B premiums at forty four fucking dollars?”

His staffer simply shrugged before beginning to explain all the other demands the congresswoman from West Virginia had. By the time they were through with the major issues, it was time for lunch.

“Try to get Barrett and Kilpatrick on board,” he said, getting up from his seat at the head of the table. He heard her grumble, but didn’t take it too personally. It would be easier to move a boulder up a hill than to convince anyone in the congresswoman’s faction to vote for something she didn’t vote for. He pressed the stub harder into his glass ashtray, his anger towards her manifesting in the present she got him.

“Yes, sir,” she said, marking the page they’d last discussed. His staffers shuffled out of their seats and out of the office, leaving him with just Donna.

“I hear she’s back in the building. Returned from her district last night. Maybe you can convince her?” She said expectantly. Out of all the people in his office, she was the only one who knew that he had a shot. No matter how narrow the possibilities. Fair’s fair, he thought. Since he tasked her with talking to Kilpatrick and Barrett.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “No harm in trying.” He would’ve laughed had someone else said that. There definitely was harm in trying. His sanity was at stake. He had a hard enough time just seeing her at the committee meetings. But if he couldn’t get members of his own party on board, he could bid goodbye to the dream of passing the bill.

He picked up the binder and sped through the hallways to her office, anxious she might leave for lunch. She usually didn’t, but made exceptions for when she met with her campaign team. Something about it being unethical to do campaign business in facilities paid for by the taxpayer. And illegal. Like him, she was a workaholic. If she wasn’t in her office, she was in her congressional district.

He stopped outside the double doors to her office, American flags on either side and a nameplate with her name and state written in gold. Right as he rose his fist to knock for courtesy’s sake, the door opened and a lanky young boy stepped out of her office, sandwich in hand. Intern.

“Is the congresswoman in?” He asked, making the boy jump back in surprise.

“Uhh…” the boy trailed, looking back at the door with wide eyes. So she was in. And the kid didn’t know whether he was one of the people to whom he should lie about his boss’ availability.

“She’s…busy?”

Javi snorted before putting a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gently nudging him away from the door. “Enjoy lunch, kid,” he said before slipping into her office. The boy said something in an effort to stop him, but the door thankfully muffled the sounds. He kicked the door with the deadbolt, eager to not get caught. Nothing interesting ever happened in congress. So the first wisp of smoke would be enough for gossips to start a fire. He walked past the front office with the plush couches for guests and right into the inside where the magic happened.

Sure enough, he found her hunched over her desk, punching numbers into a calculator with her left hand as her right scribbled them out on her notebook. The black high heeled shoes she wore pushed her ass out invitingly. His eyes trailed up the shoes, following the black lines of her stockings. He took a deep breath and turned away, his eyes landing on one of her staffers’ desks.

A carton box with sandwiches from the nearby cafeteria sat open, mostly empty but for three sandwiches wrapped in aluminum foil. He wasn’t planning on lunch, but he wouldn’t decline after seeing some perfectly good sandwiches laid out in front of him.

“Get your own, Peña,” came a cold, stern voice right as he touched one.

“I would, but you owe me sustenance for making me read through all your notes. I need more nutrients to keep up with your shit,” he said, unwrapping the foil. He took a bite, nodding appreciatively as the well seasoned meat and garlic mayonnaise touched his tongue.

She put her pen down and turned around to finally face him. She looked well put together as she always did. A navy blue pinstriped skirt that clung to her beautifully, matching the jacket draped over her chair. Her white blouse was tucked in, her hair up in a neat bun to show off her pearl earrings. She placed a hand on her hip, crossed one leg in front of the other and narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not my fault that your diet of whiskey and cigarettes doesn’t nourish you enough to read some notes on your poorly drafted bill.”

“It’s called a draft for a reason, Glitter,” he scoffed, his lips curving up in a smirk as he used her nickname against her. He knew she hated it. He wasn’t even in congress for the origin of the nickname, but it took only days for him to learn that the Congresswoman from West Virginia had “accidentally” used a glitter pen to write notes on the final draft of a bill. Sure she changed the pen after she realized. Only one word was in the imbecilic ink, but the name stuck.

“I forgot that your standards are low.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest. “What do you want now, Peña? Is it just the sandwich? I knew you had a tight budget over in the 23rd district of Texas, but I didn’t know the situation was so dire even the congressman had to mooch off someone else.”

“I already paid for it. With my soul.” He took another bite of the sandwich, unaffected by her jabs. As he chewed on his free lunch, he slapped a hand on the binder he abandoned on a staffer’s desk.

“We need to discuss your ridiculous demands.”

“I don’t see how asking to restore coverage for disabled children counts as ridiculous.” She leaned back against her desk and placed her palms flat against the surface. “Unless you hate children. Disabled children.”

“You’ve been in D.C. too long,” he said, annoyed by her spin. “And it’s not like I slashed the funding for disabled kids. They did. Don’t fight me for shit I didn’t do. And it’s not like they would’ve changed their minds by now. None of them have grown a conscience all of a sudden. They’ll just laugh us out of their office.”

“Peña, are you proposing the child health program for the children or the fucking pricks in the House who think it’s a waste of money to invest in healthcare?”

“To invest in healthcare, we need to get the bill passed. Would you rather get some coverage for kids or none?”

“Obviously, I would like some. But some or none aren’t the only options. If you’re going to cut out necessary things preemptively, we’ll get even less than what we need by the time we’re done negotiating with them.”

He darted his tongue out, licking his lips as he considered her words. They did not differ much ideologically. He too was an idealist like her. The people of his district voted him in for his ideals, for his promises. But D.C. had a way of making cynics out of optimists. It was easier for her to remain an idealist. There was no real threat to her seat.

“We don’t have an unlimited budget. It’s going to be a pain in the fucking ass trying to get this through. I put the shit you’re asking for and we can forget getting any coverage. Just like your demand to expand benefits for low income folks. If we do what you’re suggesting, it’ll be an expenditure of 3 Billion dollars over five years instead of the 1.5 billion we have available.”

She sighed and leapt up, sitting herself down on her desk. “Listen, Peña. I know you’re holding on to your seat by a thread because your margin of victory was thinner than said thread. You need to schmooze the conservatives back in Webb County. But I refuse to pay with the health of my people so you can keep your job.”

He fist clenched at the accusation and he let out a grunt. “Easy for you to say. Your district would vote for a fucking donkey if it had our party’s name slapped on it.”

It wasn’t so easy for him. Every move he made was like walking a tightrope between doing the right thing and what his constituents thought politically correct. One wrong move and they’d be out there on CNN calling him a fucking commie. Not that it bothered him. It just wasn’t good optics.

She held her pen up like it was a sword, like a threat. “They’ve tried to primary me multiple times, asshole. Never worked. I do the work and people vote me in for it.

“Listen. You wanna talk shit or actually work on this thing so we can get it passed?”

“I did my part, Peña. Thought you read through it since you’re claiming to be so exhausted.”

“It’s not gonna work sending it back and forth. Never does. We need to sit together and sort it out.”

“Right…” she drawled, her pink painted lips curling up in a smirk and her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. He huffed, knowing immediately what she was smirking about. He licked his lips and let himself think of what they did the last time they decided they would sit together and ‘sort it out’.

“You know I didn’t mean that,” he said, the words tasting bitter on his lips. He didn’t mean that. But he would never refuse an opportunity to do it again.

“Oh?” She teased, an eyebrow raised.

A carefully manicured fingernail dazzled under the light as she used her pointer finger to beckon him forward. He stepped towards her, his feet moving automatically like his cock remembered how he would be rewarded if he complied with her. Eyes connected to hers, he imagined what she looked like under her suit. If he would be able to catch even a glimpse of her body this time. If he would have to reach under her skirt, rip her stockings and push her panties aside to fuck her.

He loved knocking the smirk off her lips the last time, just the sight of her pliant against his chest giving him all the satisfaction he needed even before he came. She wasn’t arguing then. Just sweet little whimpers as she clutched onto his shirt and begged for release.

Just as he could deal with the smirk by reaching her and capturing her lips in a kiss, she lifted her high heel clad foot and placed it on his pants. Over his fucking cock to be exact. He raised his eyebrows at her, confused by her move. She put a gentle pressure on his cock with her foot, making him swallow.

“The fuck are you playing at, Glitter?”

“Nothing,” she drawled in a low, seductive voice. “Just testing if you have a foot thing.”

He huffed and rolled his eyes. “I don’t fucking have a foot thing.”

“Yeah? Must be an ass thing then,” she said, lifting her leg higher and caressing his face with the top of her shoes. “Maybe it’s a shoe thing…” His breaths got quicker and his heart beat faster, his body enticed by her daring when she was usually quite conservative and no-nonsense. “You didn’t want me to take my shoes off last time. It was fucking uncomfortable. I know you like how my ass looks when I wear these.”

She trailed the pointy end of the heel down his neck, just barely touching his skin, driving him mad with want for more. The hairs on his body stood to attention and his cock twitched in his pants. She hooked the heel under his tie and pulled. When it budged only a little, he tugged on it himself, taking the thing off completely and stuffing it into his pocket.

Before she could retreat, he caught her leg. Hand wrapped around her ankle he placed a kiss above the strap of her shoes. He looked up at her, relishing in watching her confidence chip away bit by bit as he left a trail of kisses up her leg. A silent gasp left her lips as he stopped at the edge of her desk and put her leg over his shoulder.

“You up for a meeting? To discuss,” he said, tilting her head up with a finger to her chin.

A soft smile played on her lips as she said, “We’ll see…”

“Yeah? What exactly do I have to do to get you in my office, Congresswoman?”

“Convince me. Give me something I’d want.”

“Everything’s a quid pro quo to you, isn’t it?”

“Such is politics, Peña.”

“If you say so,” he said, leaning close and kissing her neck right above the collar of her blouse. He felt her swallow, making him smile against her neck. The perfume he knew she spritzed on her neck seduced his senses and he licked her skin in a quest for his other senses to experience her delicious scent.

“Javier… Someone could come in at any time.”

Javier… It was always Peña for her. Except when they fucked. Then it was Javier, Javier, oh fuck please, harder! Once she fixed herself post fuck, it was back to Peña with a tinge of disdain. Like some crude separation of church and state.

“Everyone else knocks. I’m the only one who drops by without announcing myself,” he spoke into her skin, his voice a low drawl. “And I locked the door. Because I know you can’t resist me.” She snorted, but relaxed beneath his touch. Her hand came up to his hair, touching him oh so lightly in a way that she wouldn’t mess it up too much.

“Fucking caveman,” she chided, her voice too warm for him to believe she opposed his behavior. He trailed a hand up her skirt, stopping where her thighs met. He cupped her pussy, his eyes fixed on her face to read signs of displeasure.

“Congresswoman, I just kissed up your leg like you’re a delicate fucking princess. A caveman would rip your clothes up, hold you down and fuck you hard,” he said, feeling proud of himself when he felt her pussy react to it under his hand.

“Guess you have a caveman thing,” he mocked, leaving her no time to respond before grabbing her stockings and ripping it in his hand. She shrieked and grabbed on to his shoulders to steady herself.

“That’s the second pair you’ve ruined, asshole.”

“I wouldn’t have to ruin your stockings if you just took your clothes off and bent over the desk.”

“Oh fuck you,” she laughed, letting out a little whimper when he pushed her panties aside and found her clit.

“I will, Congresswoman,” he said in a soft voice as he rolled her nub under his thumb. Her hand traversed his back, feeling the fabric of his suit and making him wish they had the time and privacy for him to take his clothes off. Feel her bare hand on his back and let her leave scratches as he took his time to get her across the finish line.

“You address everyone by their designation when you fuck them, Javier?” She rocked up against him, her chest flush against his as she searched for her pleasure under his thumb.

It felt so fucking good though she wasn’t doing anything to him, to have his mouthy, disagreeable colleague in the palm of his hand. To play her like an instrument. Have her spinning in her head for a second longer before her snarky retorts left her lips.

“No, just the infuriating, fuckable Congresswomen,” he joked, getting a shove to his chest. He didn’t budge, having prepared himself for the attack since he anticipated it.

“You tease all the men you fuck in your office with your shoe?”

“No, only the ugly ones,” she said, laughing. He smiled, happy with her giving it to him as good as she got. They were close, so close he could feel her warm breath against his skin.

“Asshole,” he whispered against her lips before closing the gap between them. She looped one arm around his neck and allowed her other hand to play with his suit lapel. Her lips were soft, contrasting the sharp words they often spoke to him. A sense of calm settled in his chest as she slipped her hand under his jacket. He felt her hand now, caressing him up and down, making him long to know what she would feel like against his skin.

Spurred by the thought, his hand rubbed her more enthusiastically. She whimpered into the kiss and he took the chance to slip his tongue between her lips. Her hand traveled up his shirt and clutched his collar, her thumb slipping under his shirt and touching his neck. He moaned and quickly felt her smirk against his lips.

Unwilling to give her the upper hand, he grabbed her panties and tugged, making the frail fabric rip in his hand.

“What the fuck, Javier!?”

“Shh…”

Unobstructed by her panties, he was free to let his hand do two things at once. He parted her pussy lips and pushed a finger inside her, her warm wetness inviting him in easily. He added another finger and coated himself in her slick.

She gasped as he returned his thumb to her clit, making him smile smugly. He pulled away so she could see him. So she could see the power he wielded over her.

“You’re much nicer like this, Congresswoman.”

“And you are more of a dickhead somehow,” she said, grabbing his cock through his pants. When she began stroking his length, he drew a sharp breath.

“Why wouldn’t I? You get wetter when I’m a dick to you. You get like this when we’re talking business too?”

“Of course not, assface.” She gritted her teeth and grabbed him harder, making him grunt.

“Maybe I should check the next time we’re yelling at each other in the middle of the hallway. Reach under your skirt and find your wet panties.”

Her grip on him got harder and her eyes narrowed at him, but her pussy clenched around his fingers. “See, you like it.”

“You’ll see what I like and don’t like when I break your little prick, Peña.”

“Thought I was Javier when I’m fucking you.”

“You thought wrong,” she said, squeezing his cock again.

He yelped, the pressure getting too much even through his pants.

“Fuck!”

“Yeah. Fuck,” she snarked, releasing him only to snake around to his behind and grab a cheek.

“Get it done quick. Unlike you, I have things to do after this.”

“Oh yeah? Maybe I should go now. Can’t keep the Congresswoman from doing the best for her constituents,” he mocked, pulling away from her.

She wrapped her legs around him and pulled him back, trapping him in place with them. “Finish the fucking job,” she spoke, a serious expression overtaking her features.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he said, keeping up the pace of his thrust. He found her neck with his lips, placing sweet kisses on her skin. So close to her, he could feel the effect of every touch, every kiss. He locked the responses in his mind, ready to use the information for the next time he found himself with his hand up her skirt.

“The other side, Javier…” she breathed her command and he followed, eliciting a moan from her.

“Just like that… Keep going.” She thrusted back into his fingers, taking her pleasure from him eagerly. Every now and then, she issued a new command. When he obeyed, she rewarded him with sweet sounds of her pleasure.

As he brought her closer, she gripped his fingers tighter. Her eyes glazed over and she stopped giving instructions, only enjoying the fruits of his compliance with her earlier ones. She leaned against his shoulder, placing some of her weight on him. Being the sucker he was for beautiful women in the throes of pleasure, he placed a kiss on her head and cradled the back of her neck with his free hand.

“Come on, come for me…” he said softly when he felt her at the edge of the precipice.

“F-fucking make me, fucker,” she cursed, mewling when he changed the angle of his fingers to add a twist to his touches.

“Will you give me a meeting in exchange then? We could work it over together…” he negotiated with no shame whatsoever. It was a shameless business, politics.

She opened and closed her mouth several times, unable to let out anything other than a breath as he assaulted her senses mercilessly. She shook her head in denial, making him smile at her defiance.

She panted as he wore her out, her chest heaving and her eyes rolled back. The hand gripping his lapel grew weak and she went limp against him. With a low moan, she came around his fingers and collapsed against him. He kept his fingers inside her, not having the heart to kiss out on how her pussy spasmed around them as she recovered from the high he brought her.

She lifted her head off his chest and dropped her legs, freeing him from her prison.

“You’re not getting a meeting in exchange for fingering me, Peña.”

“What does a man have to do then? Fuck you in the ass? Cause I’ll do it,” he said, laughing when she shoved at his chest weakly. He pulled out finally and took a step back before grabbing his handkerchief and wiping his fingers clean of her release. She hopped off her desk and pulled out her handkerchief from her purse. She unfolded the white cloth embroidered with flowers and leaves and dipped a corner in her glass of water.

He raised an eyebrow at her when she turned back around to offer it to him.

“You have lipstick on your face.”

“Ah.”

“Where?” He asked, accepting the cloth from her.

“Right there. On your neck,” she said, pointing vaguely at his neck. He swiped where he guessed the lipstick mark was and looked up at her, asking silently if he got it.

She shook her head and reached back into her purse. She offered him a black circular box- a makeup thing he knew had a mirror in it.

“Thanks,” he said and pried it open.

“Who are you expecting to vote for this from the other side?” She asked as she adjusted her clothes and reapplied her lipstick. He wiped off the traces of her from his neck and lips. He closed the box, careful not to spill the powder inside.

“Hayworth, Calvert, Cunningham, Doolittle. Rohrabacher would do it, but it’ll require a lot of negotiation. Chenoweth would find the bill agreeable, but it’s unlikely that she’ll vote for it,” he said, a little disappointed that she was talking business even though that was why he came over.

“Yeah. She has a poor record on bipartisanship. Is Evans on board? Cause he’s pretty close to Porter and he can convince him to come aboard.”

“I think he will. Stoddard is talking to Evans’ people and it seems he’s content.”

“Alright,” she said, nodding. “I don’t have time for this shit, but it needs to be done. Surely your buddy on the other side can convince a lot more people to sign on. If he isn’t confident, there’s no point in us discussing this further.”

“Murphy’s got a list. He’s still in talks with them.”

“He’s still in talks? Motherfucker, why did you waste my time then? Could’ve waited for his chipped down draft before you sent a copy to my office.”

Because as much as I fucking hate you, I respect your intelligence. I respect that DC’s cynicism hasn’t turned you away from your ideologies.

But that wasn’t what he said. That wasn’t how this partnership worked. Political alliance didn’t equal friendship. Hell, Murphy wasn’t his political ally. He was on the other side. Yet they were friends.

“Mhmm. I had it sent to you so early on ‘cause I know you’re the hardest to please.”

“Well,” she said, mischief playing at the corners of her lips. She walked behind her desk and sat back down. “You pleased me okay today. I could do without all the yapping building up to the act, though. Really sucks the fun out of it, hearing your stupid voice.”

“Asshole,” he mumbled, as he pocketed her handkerchief and retrieved his tie. She laughed, the sound eliciting a smile from him. He pressed his lips into a thin line as he busied himself tying his tie, loath to have her see him enjoy something so trivial.

“I’ll see you at the committee meeting then,” he said when he got his tie back on.

“Yeah, see you there to watch them slash programs so they can give tax cuts to their buddies.”

He snorted, agreeing with her. It drained him to sit in on the budget committee meetings. It was a high honor when he got assigned to such an important committee. Felt like a pat on the back for his hard work. Until he had to do the hard work of arguing against the fucking worst suggestions futilely. Nothing fucking mattered when they didn’t have majority. Yet, he argued. So did she.

“Pass me a sandwich on your way out, Peña.”

He picked one of the two remaining sandwiches. “Here you go,” he said, making a throwing motion without tossing it. She reacted, throwing her hands up in the air to catch a sandwich that never came.

“Asshole,” she cursed, picking up her paperweight. Before she could throw it at him, he skipped away, another free sandwich in hand. As he closed the door to her office, he could’ve sworn he heard her giggle.

.

.

.

Main Masterlist

Guys, I’m so excited about how fun this could be. Javi in his suits. Angry Javi. Javi taking his tie off like in that one Narcos episode from season 3. Javi and reader having clandestine meetings under the guise of work. Maybe a sex scandal? Who know… Let me know what you think of Congressman!Javi and Congresswoman!Reader.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña #javier peña x y/n #javier peña x you #javier peña x ofc #javier peña fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña smut #narcos fanfiction #narcos fic #narcos smut #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena fic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #javier peña imagine #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfic #all that i've inflicted on the world

[allthecanadianpolitics]

Young Canadians are largely unhappy with the sex-ed they’ve received in school, with two out of three Canadian youth reporting that sex-ed did not make them feel prepared for sex, according to a new report. The report(opens in a new tab), which surveyed 1,090 Canadian youth aged 18-24, found that while our sex-ed programs usually contain a lot of information on sexually transmitted diseases and pregnancy, there’s a dearth of practical information to help youth navigate their sexual journey, with youth stressing they wanted more concrete advice and more inclusive curriculums which include information on LGBTQ2S+ experiences. More than a third of youth surveyed also stated that the sex-ed they received mostly focused on abstinence. “The omnipresence of social media, emerging online behaviours, and the tide of disinformation only add layers of complexity to this issue,” Shamin Mohamed Jr., founder and president of Toronto-based think tank LetsStopAIDS, said in an introduction to the report. “We need a sex-positive & comprehensive approach to Sex-Ed.”

Continue Reading.

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#Sex Ed #Sex Education #Education #cdnpoli #canada #canadian politics #canadian news

[bonyassfish]

But like actually, having worked in harm reduction and now studying for a PhD in education policy

I fucking loved this week’s Abbott Elementary

Showing not only the absurdity and counter-productiveness of programs like DARE, but also showing how the pro drug abstinence obsession and the way the war on drugs has manifested in schools in the us is actually much more harmful and dangerous than having an honest conversation about drugs, smoking, and alcohol

By cuffing teachers and school workers so they can only preach the same “Drugs are bad never do them”, it prohibits the kind of honest and open conversations which can help kids make better choices. By painting all drugs as equally harmful to people of all ages, the entire message is dismissed (because, duh!)

Similarly to sex education which preaches an abstinence only position, drug and alcohol education which only offers blanket statements that say “all drugs are bad” is extremely harmful and extremely ineffective.

Some teenagers are probably going to have sex, try alcohol, or cigarettes, or weed. Not all of them of course, but some, no matter what corny rap songs about the dangers of pot you make them sit through. Instead of just telling them not to do it, why not be open and honest about it?

Not to mention, zero tolerance policy punishments are ineffective and damaging, especially to young black children who are far more likely to face disciplinary actions than white ones for the same behaviors. And searching through kids backpacks and lockers? Sheesh. It almost broke my heart watching Gregory pull that stuffed animal out of a first grader’s backpack.

And before someone misconstrues this, this isn’t me saying “it’s ok for 12-yr-olds to smoke”. It’s me saying, clearly the currently used policies to try and prevent drug and alcohol use among children are not only failures but a direct result of the racist war on drugs, which has certainly not curbed addiction in the slightest.

#abbott elementary #anyway I love geeking out about ed policy and harm reduction #it’s literally what I’m studying!!! #harm reduction

[queerism1969]

Things you should know before having SEX

There is absolutely nothing rude or accusatory about asking a new partner about their STD history

Use both a barrier method (male or female condom) AND a hormonal method for the best bet at preventing pregnancy

When you’re considering stopping using condoms with a partner, you can ask them if you can go together to get tested first

Don’t have sex with anyone who would hesitate to slow down or stop if you want to or who would be angry or upset with you because of it

Get tested regularly, every 1–3 months

You can go on PrEP if you feel you are truly at risk of getting HIV

Look at your partner and make sure they do not have cold sores, if they do, don’t kiss/do oral with them!

Always meet in public first

Have boundaries and don’t be afraid of kicking someone out/leaving

It’s easier and cheaper to change condoms than diapers.

If you're planning on having a lot of casual sex, you must accept that you will be exposed to STIs. 

There is no such thing as safe sex - just risk reduced.

Pinch the reservoir tip of a condom as you slide it down the penis to make sure there is enough space for the semen to collect 

Oral/vaginal/anal sex all have STD risks.

Do NOT use oil-based lubricants with a condom

Abstinence-only is a terrible idea, and statistics show it: STD rates and teen pregnancy rates are higher in areas with abstinence-only sex education programs.

Some people enjoy a little acting or role-playing during sex so it helps to have a pronounced safe word that nobody will say by accident.

Don't dominate on the first physical meeting.

Don't introduce new, undiscussed elements into a scene in the heat of the moment.

Dental dams for oral sex, surgical gloves with LOTS of lubes for fingering, trim your nails, and wash your hands.

Vagina penetration isn't going to be as easy, like they show in porn

it's essential to clean off the semen before putting on another condom. 

Buy plenty of condoms

Pee after sex as it is important to prevent UTI.

Throw out everything you see in porn, it's unrealistic and most of the positions are not possible or enjoyable as they look on camera.

Have plenty of foreplay before penetration 

When you get on the pill, ask your doc how long that pill takes to be effective.

Cum will drip out of you, and you will look silly waddling to the bathroom to go pee and clean up

If you take any kind of antibiotics, it will render your birth control pills ineffective for the rest of that month. 

Never be ashamed to have cleanup supplies near your bed.

Doing kegel squeezes in the restroom really helps push most if not all the cum out.

Two people with a vulva can give each other STIs.

Let someone know where you are and when you'd be back. 

Your hookup doesn't have to be for penetrative sex

Don't drink anything you're handed that you don't see poured and doesn't leave your sight. 

Oral sex is very risky for things like gonorrhea, chlamydia, and syphilis (especially syphilis and pharyngeal gonorrhea).

Asking for Snapchat always does a good job of weeding out the fakes.

Always bring your own condoms and lube

Always let the person know that you’ll only have sex with condoms before meeting up

Obtain pepper spray just in case you’re put in a dangerous situation.

Clean your toys appropriately, and make sure it's body-safe material (if it starts to smell even after cleanings, throw it away). 

Be sure to use the correct kind of lube 

For any kind of sex, there generally shouldn't be pain. If there's pain, something is probably wrong. 

If you brush your teeth before doing oral, wait till the minty flavor is gone before going down on them

Your pubic hair is normal and healthy. Trimming is fine, shaving I recommend a lot less.

Sex is a marathon, not a sprint

Not liking sex is okay.

HIV is no longer a death sentence. With proper treatment, your viral load can be so low that transition is impossible. You'll have to manage it for the rest of your life, and your partners would have to take PREP and HIV prevention drugs.

If you decide to practice kink, be aware that consent becomes much more explicit and requires a lot of prep to properly establish. Without consent, it's just abuse.

#lgbtq community #lgbt pride #lgbtqia #lesbian #lgbtq #nonbinary #queer #nonbinary lesbian #sapphic #gay girls #transgender #trans #trans femme #trans women #trans pride #transfem #queer community #queer culture #queer nsft #queer pride #queer artist #lgbt #pride #wlw nsft #wlw post #wlw #wlw ns/fw #wlw love #nblw #mlm nsft

[random-thought-depository]

""Moreover, it turns out that the United States is not all that tightfisted when it comes to social spending. “If you count all public benefits offered by the federal government, America’s welfare state (as a share of its gross domestic product) is the second biggest in the world, after France’s,” Desmond tells us. Why doesn’t this largesse accomplish more?

For one thing, it unduly assists the affluent. That statistic about the U.S. spending almost as much as France on social welfare, he explains, is accurate only “if you include things like government-subsidized retirement benefits provided by employers, student loans and 529 college savings plans, child tax credits, and homeowner subsidies: benefits disproportionately flowing to Americans well above the poverty line.” To enjoy most of these, you need to have a well-paying job, a home that you own, and probably an accountant (and, if you’re really in clover, a money manager).

“The American government gives the most help to those who need it least,” Desmond argues. “This is the true nature of our welfare state, and it has far-reaching implications, not only for our bank accounts and poverty levels, but also for our psychology and civic spirit.” Americans who benefit from social spending in the form of, say, a mortgage-interest tax deduction don’t see themselves as recipients of governmental generosity. The boon it offers them may be as hard for them to recognize and acknowledge as the persistence of poverty once was to Harrington’s suburban housewives and professional men. These Americans may be anti-government and vote that way. They may picture other people, poor people, as weak and dependent and themselves as hardworking and upstanding. Desmond allows that one reason for this is that tax breaks don’t feel the same as direct payments. Although they may amount to the same thing for household incomes and for the federal budget—“You can benefit a family by lowering its tax burden or by increasing its benefits, same difference”—they are associated with an obligation and a procedure that Americans, in particular, find onerous. Tax-cutting Republican lawmakers want the process to be both difficult and Swiss-cheesed with loopholes. (“Taxes should hurt,” Ronald Reagan once said.) But that’s not the only reason. What Desmond calls the “rudest explanation” is that if, for whatever reason, we get a tax break, most of us like it. That’s the case for people affluent and lucky enough to take advantage of the legitimate breaks designed for their benefit, and for the wily super-rich who game the system with expensive lawyering and ingenious use of tax shelters.

And there are other ways, Desmond points out, that government help gets thwarted or misdirected. When President Clinton instituted welfare reform, in 1996, pledging to “transform a broken system that traps too many people in a cycle of dependence,” an older model, Aid to Families with Dependent Children, or A.F.D.C., was replaced by Temporary Assistance for Needy Families, or TANF. Where most funds administered by A.F.D.C. went straight to families in the form of cash aid, TANF gave grants to states with the added directive to promote two-parent families and discourage out-of-wedlock childbirth, and let the states fund programs to achieve those goals as they saw fit. As a result, “states have come up with rather creative ways to spend TANF dollars,” Desmond writes. “Nationwide, for every dollar budgeted for TANF in 2020, poor families directly received just 22 cents. Only Kentucky and the District of Columbia spent over half of their TANF funds on basic cash assistance.” Between 1999 and 2016, Oklahoma directed more than seventy million dollars toward initiatives to promote marriage, offering couples counselling and workshops that were mostly open to people of all income levels. Arizona used some of the funds to pay for abstinence education; Pennsylvania gave some of its TANF money to anti-abortion programs. Mississippi treated its TANF funds as an unexpected Christmas present, hiring a Christian-rock singer to perform at concerts, for instance, and a former professional wrestler—the author of an autobiography titled “Every Man Has His Price”—to deliver inspirational speeches. (Much of this was revealed by assiduous investigative reporters, and by a 2020 audit of Mississippi’s Department of Human Services.) Moreover, because states don’t have to spend all their TANF funds each year, many carry over big sums. In 2020, Tennessee, which has one of the highest child-poverty rates in the nation, left seven hundred and ninety million dollars in TANF funds unspent."

- The New Yorker: "How America Manufactures Poverty" by Margaret Talbot (review of Matthew Desmond's Poverty by America).

#that last quoted paragraph is infuriating #class politics

[thatswhatsushesaid]

i see the abstinence-only sex education program has been rolled out at the gusu lan summer camp for wayward cultivators

ps if you think what lwj and wwx get up to in that inn right before the guanyin temple confrontation doesn't count as sex before marriage..... idk dude that's just pretty bleak.

#salty peak sect 🧂 #anyway citation needed for the rest of this garbage

[chaosvanquished]

Again and again I have to hear the argument that "asexuals are actually not oppressed because in fact virginity and abstinence is expected" but these people seem to be forgetting that not everyone lives in a puritanical or at least puritan-shaped society.

I had close, good friends remark about another friend that she was abnormal for finding some guys cute but never approaching them or seeking a relationship when we were only 18.

When I was 19 I had to see a doctor and when I told her that I never had sex she reacted with "Really ? How ?! Did you never get the urge or just want to try it out ?!"

I was asked how one could get me, an autistic person, to develop a special interest in sex so I'd want to do it all the time and try out various positions/kinks/etc.

During my internship I managed to secure a position as an assistant and everyone openly assumed that I had slept with my boss. I was 19.

Personally, I'm not sex-negative but sex-repulsed. Non-graphic sex scenes or snippets alluding to sex (i.e. hands grabbing sheets) are not only part of the normal tv program but ads. I'll see sex scenes during day time for sex toys, condoms, health apps - even fucking bottled water. On channels with kids-friendly programs.

During high school I refused a date AND just sex with a friend. He didn't understand when I said "it's not you, I just generally don't", so he came back and told me in detail how he'd rape and murder me and more.

In my 20s I lived in shared housing. Several people could not accept that I wasn't interested in sleeping around. One was actually yelling at me in public that I should sleep with him because "it was obvious I wanted to". But clearly that's homophobia ? We actually had gay and lesbian housemates, they were fully accepted.

Another public scene. A guy yelled at me from a distance in the pedestrian zone how I had nice legs and he wanted to perform oral sex on me. I was mortified. My mother found it "funny and quite charming"...

When I was 16 and had no interest in dating or sex my best friend told me "when you eventually have sex you'll have to grid your teeth and act like you feel no pain and are experienced. No one wants to have sex with an 18+ virgin. Also if you're over 18 you can't expect a guy to go slow during your first time, you're too old."

And while I love the diversity in aspec-spaces, it can get annoying to hear "just because you're ace doesn't mean you can't have sex, right ? You do engage in sex, right ?!", because people read about sex-positive asexuality and jumped on it right away.

#asexuality #lgbt+ #aphobia #aspec #ableism #many of you seem to have encountered 'all autistics must be ace !' #but i always encounter 'autistics are freaky and kinky !' #this is me #i added more #there's actually much much more to add #ace problems #acephobia

[transmutationisms]

thoughts on AA/12 step programs? i’m aware this is a pretty nebulous question but i’m mainly asking about your opinion on the functions and framework of the idea of drug rehabilitation

i only ever went to like one aa and one na meeting and immediately found both groups odious because the ideology relies on the disease model of addiction and the necessary intervention of another external power. many such cases including 99% of 'eating disorder recovery' resources. obviously people who want to stop or reduce using drugs may want help and support to do so, and i want to live in a world where such support is available. but this needs to be working within an ideological framework that contextualises drug use in ways the disease model refuses to, and it also needs to be fully supportive of people who don't aim for total sobriety.

i do actually think it can be helpful to be in community with other people who are in a similar position, ie some variant of a fellowship model, and also the 12-step groups being voluntary is good (im aware courts and psych institutions often force participation in these groups, but this is a function of those institutions [abolish them]). so i think those elements of the 12-step model can be poached usefully. but the actual 12 steps and the discomfort with (refusal of) other treatment methods (and non-sobriety) are absolutely not helpful to drug users; they're based in the founder's christian conception of drinking as a moral lapse, and hardly ever work (tho it is difficult to collect data on these groups' participants for obvious reasons).

i have zero hostility toward people who do strive for total sobriety for themselves, but the truth is this is not everyone's goal and the idea that all drug users---even all compulsive and self-endangering drug users---can and should 'rehabilitate' this way is a major driver of continued patterns of dangerous, shamed, compulsive use ('relapse') and again, speaks more to squeamishness about drug use than it does to what drug users themselves actually want for their own lives. people should be granted the resources and support to choose what their particular relationship with substances is going to be---total abstinence is not inherently a good or bad answer here, and for many people will never be a realistic or desirable goal.

#drugs

[norabrice1701]

Coincidence - Ch. 1

Dr. Alan Grant x Predoctoral Student Fem!Reader

Series Main List

Ch. 1 Warnings: Explicit language; inappropriate crush; minor Alan Grant/Ellie Sattler references

You stand outside your home-away-from-home trailer, sipping coffee and watching the dig site come alive. If you have to choose your favorite time of day in Montana, you’d be hard pressed to decide between dusk or dawn. Brilliant colors streak across endless expanses of sky, and the rocky, sandy badland formations glow as if on fire, heralding the promise of discovery ahead or secrets that must wait until dawn. 

A smirk teases your lips as you blow to dispel the curls of steam above the warm ceramic mug. For the last six years, you’ve leapt at every opportunity to work at one of Dr. Grant’s dig sites, but now, you only have five months left before your time in the predoctoral research program ends. With your resume of undergraduate, graduate and predoctoral work, you’re fortunate to already have offer letters on your desk for the next step in your academic journey, but those can wait for another day. For today, a brilliant day dawns and a light, dusty breeze blows through the camp. 

You gaze out over the collection of trailers and tents, a mini traveling circus designed to unearth the planet’s Mesozoic era secrets. Shadows stir under the mess tent as people brew coffee and mix bowls of instant oatmeal. The flaps of the main tent catch in the breeze, showing glimpses of the fossilized treasures already packed for their journey to the university lab. A ramshackle collection of blankets, folding chairs, and up-turned buckets surround a charred fire ring full of ashes, showcasing the camaraderie found under bright stars as guitar refrains mingle with exhausted laughter and easy conversation. 

The fond memories tug a full smile to your face, though - undeniably everything in camp has changed since Dr. Grant and Dr. Sattler returned from… well, wherever they went. Just after that helicopter landed - and kicked up enough sand to undo a week’s worth of hard work - they had promised just a 48-hour absence, and while the team had directions to proceed with site preservation and documentation, they gave explicit instructions to pause the skeleton excavation until they returned. But 48 hours became 72 hours before the satellite phone rang, and another four days passed before they returned to the site… and the whispered rumors haven’t stopped flying. 

Especially now that Dr. Sattler sports a noticeable limp, favoring her left leg. Especially given the prominence of the butterfly bandages on Dr. Grant’s right cheek, covering a sizable cut. You had assumed it was just some sponsor meeting or conference appearance to draw them both out of the dirt for a weekend, but apparently not. And that was to say nothing of the changes in both of their moods and how they both -

The trailer door’s worn-out hinge rattles open behind you, and you cast an annoyed glare over your shoulder. With a blanket still wrapped around her shoulders and coffee mug in hand, April steps down into the sand with a sigh. “Okay,” she groans. “No matter what Derek says, do not let me drink whiskey shots past midnight.” 

An amused chuckle rises in your throat. “Can’t blame me for that one. You’d fly to the moon if he asked.” 

“God, you’re right.” April agrees with another groan, drawing up alongside you as she sips her steaming coffee. “I just need to get back to a real bed and a real shower – then, I’ll fuck his brains out until I can’t walk.” 

“Shouldn’t you, you know… ask him first? Or maybe go on at least one date?” 

April scoffs. “We’ve been out here for six weeks – does this not count as the longest, most abstinent date on the face of the planet?” 

“Not if he doesn’t see it that way.” You look back out over the dig site, sipping your coffee as your gaze lands on the silver trailer slightly set apart from the main encampment. Laundry flaps on the clothesline, and light shines out of the trailer’s rear window. 

April hums against the rim of her coffee cup. “Well, if he’s blind to all of this obvious sexual tension when we return to campus, then I’ll just have to open his eyes.” 

Another soft laugh rises in your throat. You hadn’t known April too well before the last two semesters, and sharing a trailer with her now proves to be more interesting than you expected as you keep up with her romantic inclinations – both real and fantasized. 

“Or, you could go into town next weekend,” you say, swallowing a mouthful of coffee. “Go find yourself some handsome, young stud at the local dive bar, and go get your cowgirl on to get it out of your system.” You can’t even finish the words with a straight face as both of you break out laughing. 

Coffee sloshes over the rim of April’s mug into the sand as she shakes her head, turning to you with a fond smile. “You really are too quiet back in the lab, you know. If this is what fresh air does to your personality, you should just stay out here full-time.” She pauses to waggle a suggestive brow. “Not unlike our fearless leader, you know.” 

Your gaze darts back to the metal-wrapped trailer without your permission. You hope nothing incriminating shows on your face as you offer a shrug. “Some people are just more naturally suited for field work, I guess.” 

April hums again as she swallows another mouthful of coffee. “I think if we just left him out here, the only person who would miss him would be Dr. Sattler.” 

“And the department dean.” You counter. “Just think how the enrollment numbers and donor gift amounts would suffer if Dr. Alan Grant never showed his face on campus.” 

“Maybe once his face heals,” April concedes. “If he’s not willing to say where he went or what happened, then he doesn’t need to deal with more people asking. Though, that just further supports my theory that they went somewhere kinky. Like some sex club retreat and it was way more intense than they bargained for.” 

You roll your eyes, taking a long drink of coffee instead of responding. April’s favorite theory for the doctors’ mysterious absence not only explained their physical injuries, but also the unusual tension between them. The first summer on a dig, you were surprised that the department condoned an unmarried couple living together on site, setting such an example for impressionable students– but as head of the excavation, either Dr. Grant didn’t care about the department’s opinion or decided all his students were adult enough to handle it – so, he and Dr. Sattler shared a trailer together without question. But where Dr. Sattler used to emerge with bright eyes and an eager smile for the day ahead, now she looks troubled and impatient. Not to mention the dark circles beneath her eyes that haven’t faded. 

Even Dr. Grant’s grumbly, unsociable tendencies have become more pronounced. For a man who has always preferred quiet action over loud words, he deliberately hides behind his new hat and aviator sunglasses more than you’ve ever seen him. Or maybe there’s another explanation for that?

Sunscreen clung to your skin and sand crunched beneath your feet as you approached the main tent. The excavation opening briefing wasn’t going to begin for another twenty minutes, but… well, you were excited. Not only was it your first dig site, but you managed to make the team for your favorite professor and academic mentor. 

Of course, it had nothing to do with the silly, school-crush of yours. You respected Dr. Grant for all of his immense contributions to paleontology, and working with him in the field was the biggest learning opportunity you could ask for. You could easily ignore the sun-kissed strength of his forearms, the nimble movements of his fingers, the sparkling passion in his blue eyes, and the teasing glimpses of the hollow of his throat. 

His tall, lean figure moved in the tent’s shaded shadows, and you offered a smile as you perched against a work table before speaking. “Good morning.” 

He nodded over at you, eyes disappearing under the brim of his dusty, well-worn straw fedora with the motion. “You’re early.” 

“Isn’t that supposed to make a good impression? Early bird getting the worm and all that…”

The corner of his mouth ticked up in vague amusement. “Something like that.” He pulled the lid off a plastic crate full of trowels, chisels, and brush sets. A small cloud of dust rose as he shuffled through the rattling contents. “That’s why you’re out here, after all, right?” He continued, glancing back over at you. “First dig site, correct?” 

“Yes.” You nodded, unable to hold back your proud smile. “And very much looking forward to spending my summer in the dirt.” 

“We’ll see if your tune changes by September.” 

Your brow furrowed. “I doubt students who make it this far suddenly change their mind after working a dig site. I mean… shouldn’t field work only reinforce why we’ve all chosen to pursue paleontology?” 

Seemingly satisfied with the crates’ contents, he bent to lift another crate to the sturdy table. “Only for those who don’t harbor any mix-ups with ‘Indiana Jones’.” 

You snorted an amused laugh, searching out any hint of laughter on his face. “Oh, man – now, I’m super crushed. I wanted to chase Nazis through the desert as we raced to recover the latest Maiasaura skeleton.”

His mouth tightened to a line of thinly veiled annoyance as his keen eyes locked to yours in gentle warning. For all of the hours that you’ve sat in his office, asking questions, expounding on theories – you never knew him to be playful and his sense of humor only revealed itself in fleeting glimpses. Honestly, you should know better than to crack such a poor joke when he’s fought the stereotype for his entire career. 

Though, the irony wasn’t lost on you that he certainly did resemble the attractive Indiana Jones persona. Especially with the fedora atop his head, even if it wasn’t made of brown wool. An appreciative smile tugged at the corner of your mouth, and you ducked your head beneath your own hat before he could see it. 

“That will never do, you know.” His voice cut across the tent, drawing your attention back. 

Looking back over at him, your brow furrowed. “What will never do?” 

He motioned at the top of your head. “Your hat screams greenhorn from a mile away.” Abandoning the crate, he stepped around the table. “Whether it’s your first dig or your fiftieth, never let them know by wearing something so obvious.” 

An incredulous smirk lifted the corner of your mouth. “But it is my first dig, and I didn’t have a hat before –”

“May I?” He held out a hand, darting his gaze up to the cloth, floppy-brimmed hat atop your head. 

Your smirk grew, heart skipping a beat as you pulled your hat off. Handing it over to him, your mouth gaped open to watch him fold it in half, protecting the interior, before dropping it to the ground. He brought the toe of his boot down, grinding it into the dirt and sand in various places before kicking it over and doing the same to the other side. A shocked laugh startled from you as he crouched to retrieve it, brushing the loose sand off with his hand. 

As he rose to his full height – that’s when the realization hit you. For the dust-free, clean state of his khaki trousers and plaid shirt with sleeves cuffed just beneath his elbows, his hat bore the dirt and stains of countless past adventures. It must surely hold memories untold of past triumphs and disappointments, of good times around campfires and frustrating moments in the mobile lab. Either that, or he knew exactly how to season it so no one would question it – so no one would mistake him for a greenhorn. 

As if. 

Your smile softened with a flattered edge as he handed your hat back, and you glanced down at the cloth roughened by the sand and streaked from his boots. His mouth pulled to a closed-mouth smile of approval as he nodded down at you. “See?” He said with a hint of seldom-seen mischief dancing in his eyes. “Isn’t that better?” 

Affectionate heat warmed your cheeks as you returned the hat to your head, just in time for others to start filing into the tent. And as Dr. Grant began the briefing to officially open the dig site, you glanced around at the number of clean, new hats that rested atop your fellow students’ heads, unable to hold back a pleased, proud smirk. 

You gulp a mouthful of warm coffee to displace the memory, but after Dr. Grant’s return, you noticed right away that he has a new hat. Of course, he’s made attempts to weather it, but gone is the well-worn straw fedora with the frayed horsehair band. Just where on earth has he been to lose his signature hat? 

As if summoned by your thoughts, the door to his trailer opens, and… goodness. Dr. Grant looks like hell as he steps out into the morning sun. Dark, sleepless circles hang heavy beneath his eyes and above his unkempt morning stubble. He rakes a hand through his hair, glancing all around as if checking for something, before he lifts the light-brown wool hat to his head and shrugs on his sunglasses. 

Your heart goes out to him as he storms across the site, headed for the main tent like a man on a mission. You don’t have the first clue what’s happened or what’s going on, but you can already sense it won’t be an easy day. Gulping down the last dregs of your coffee, you turn and set the empty mug on the folding table next to your trailer. 

“Come on,” you say to April as you swipe your well-worn hat from the tabletop. “Looks like another long day.” 

Series Main List

#sam neill #jurassic park #alan grant #alan grant x reader #alan grant x you #classic jurassic park #dr. alan grant #sam neill x you #sam neill x reader

[leftisthousewife]

CSE post 2/2

The below text is from a pamphlet handed out by my grandma’s church to get their members to attend school board meetings to block Sex education. 

Needless to say this is bad and will cause so much harm.

8. PROMOTES EARLY SEXUAL AUTONOMY Teaches children they can choose to have sex when they feel they are ready or when they find a trusted partner. Fails to provide data about the well-documented negative consequences of early sexual debut. Fails to encourage sexually active children to return to abstinence. 9. FAILS TO ESTABLISH ABSTINENCE AS THE EXPECTED STANDARD Fails to establish abstinence (or a return to abstinence) as the expected standard for all school-age children. May mention abstinence only in passing. May teach children that all sexual activity-other than "unprotected" vaginal and oral sex- is acceptable, and even healthy. May present abstinence and "protected" sex as equally good options for children. 10. PROMOTES TRANSGENDER IDEOLOGY Promotes affirmation of and/or exploration of diverse gender identities. May teach children they can change their gender or identify as multiple genders, or may present other unscientific and medically inaccurate theories. Fails to teach that most gender-confused children resolve their confusion by adulthood and that extreme gender confusion is a mental health disorder (gender dysphoria) that can be helped with mental health intervention. 11. PROMOTES CONTRACEPTION / ABORTION TO CHILDREN Presents abortion as a safe or positive option while omitting data on the many potential negative physical and mental health consequences. May teach children they have a right to abortion and refer them to abortion providers. May encourage the use of contraceptives, while failing to present failure rates or side effects. 12. PROMOTES PEER-TO-PEER SEX ED OR SEXUAL RIGHTS ADVOCACY May train children to teach other children about sex or sexual pleasure, through peer-to-peer initiatives. May recruit children as spokespeople to advocate for controversial sexual rights (including a right to CSE itself or to promote abortion. 13. UNDERMINES TRADITIONAL VALUES AND BELIEFS May encourage children to question their parents' beliefs or their cultural or religious values regarding early sex, sexual orientation or gender identity. 14. UNDERMINES PARENTS OR PARENTAL RIGHTS May instruct children they have rights to confidentiality and privacy from their parents. May teach children about accessing sexual commodities or services, including abortion, without parental consent. May instruct children not to tell their parents what they are being taught about sex in school. 15. REFERS CHILDREN TO HARMFUL RESOURCESRefers children to harmful websites, materials or outside entities. May also specifically refer children to Planned Parenthood or their affiliates or partners for their lucrative services or commodities (i.e., sexual counseling, condoms, contraceptives, gender hormones, STI testing and treatment, abortions, etc.) Please Note: A conflict of interest exists whenever an entity that profits from sexualizing children is involved in creating or implementing sex education programs. (For more information on how Planned Parenthood sexualizes children for profit see www.WaronChildren.org and www.InvestigateIPPF.org)

#sex education #comprehensive sex education #sex ed #consent #safe sex #lgbtq #school boards #transgender #christianity cw

[1stthingsfirst]

This is the Ray side of my previous post about the portrayal of his recovery, in part prompted by @quaintrelle17's comment about Thai rehabs (Thank you! I didn't ignore you, I just took forever to respond).

Note: I use "sobriety" as shorthand. Not everyone who abuses alcohol needs to go sober. Some can drink in moderation. Some need to abstain for their whole lives.

I originally only briefly addressed Ray drinking in rehab. So, the two general ways to stop drinking/go sober are:

Cold turkey -- You go from your current alcohol intake to zero, no steps in between.

Tapering off (aka weaning off) -- You decrease your daily alcohol intake over time until you reach zero/a desired amount.

From this tweet and Jojo's comments, I believe Thai outpatient rehab programs follow a harm-reduction model using tapering and deemphasizing abstinence unless deemed necessary.

Tapering off aims to both decrease the severity of and prevent withdrawal symptoms. Chronic alcohol abuse alters your brain chemistry. Tapering off helps your brain adjust to functioning with less and less alcohol and decreases the likelihood of severe withdrawal symptoms such as seizures and delirium tremens, which can cause disability and death.

Issue #1: Lack of Clarity

Ray is a good candidate for tapering. He carries a flask to drink on the go and his hands shake when he doesn't drink, a withdrawal symptom. It makes sense for Ray to drink while he's in rehab.

However, tapering is a systematic process. You don't just slowly drink less. A professional may determine a tapering schedule specific to you, but the general recommendation is to decrease by 2 drinks per day. When tapering, you should track what drink you're on and even measure to ensure you stick to one standard drink each time.

I would not expect to see this level of detail in the show. However, as is, we see Ray enter rehab at the end of episode 10, and then in episode 11, we see no visible change in behavior. He still goes to bars and drinks beers in the bath and has whiskey in the pool in a tense almost-threesome. We're supposed to intuit that he's changing simply because he says he is.

The show could have made it clearer without dedicating much time to it. It's as simple as a lingering shot of a handout from the rehab center or Ray saying, "last drink of the day" in the tub. Responses to Only Friends have highlighted how little the general public knows about addiction. It's unreasonable to expect us to know that people may drink as part of rehab.

This is a "show, don't tell" error. We have been told that Ray is in rehab, but we have not seen behavior indicating that he's in rehab.

Issue #2: Tone and Narrative

I'd be surprised if Ray's support team encouraged him to casually drink with his partner while trying to go sober. I could be wrong; they could be fine with it. A person could maybe healthily drink a beer in the tub with their partner if it aligned with their tapering schedule, but it doesn't feel appropriate tonally or narratively.

We have seen how destructive alcohol has been in Ray's life: his mom's alcoholism ruined his childhood; he blames himself for her alcoholism-related suicide; he nearly lost all his friends and his boyfriend multiple times; he drove drunk, crashed his car, and had to be hospitalized for his injuries; he was charged with a DUI and has to complete social service (legal consequences); and so on.

Tonally, it does not make sense to show Ray drinking casually at this point. It could make sense to show him drinking, but not in the settings shown in episode 11. Drinking should be portrayed as weightier by now, if not for Ray, at least for Sand when he's with Ray (see my original post). Sand has said multiple times that he worries about Ray's drinking, so it feels odd to see them to chat in the bath over beers while Ray is in rehab. Ray may be allowed to drink then and he may be able to drink for pleasure in the future, but week one of rehab is not the time for drinking for pleasure.

Additionally, from a storytelling perspective, it doesn't make sense to include Ray accepting that he needs to go to rehab with two episodes left unless you then show him either improved or struggling. By showing Ray drinking after entering rehab, it suggests to the viewer that Ray's drinking will continue to be a major plot point.

But I don't know if it is because we have one episode left, two other couples' stories to wrap up, Ray's already in rehab, and they just introduced Boeing to Sand and Ray's dynamic. By introducing Boeing this late in the show, with this little time left, it's pretty clear Boeing is Ray and Sand's final conflict, not Ray's recovery.

I'm normally all about nuance, but filmmakers only have so many opportunities to convey information to their audience. Unless they do want to keep Ray's recovery a main conflict, it is more logical, for both tone and storytelling, to simply not show Ray drinking at this point. Is it less realistic? Yes. But is it clearer? Yes.

TL;DR

There are scientific reasons why Ray would drink during rehab; however, most people don't know that and it was never explained in the series itself, so the scenes of him drinking in ep 11 landed poorly for many viewers. This is a problem with how the show told the story of Ray's alcoholism and recovery. The show would have benefited from prioritizing clarity over realism, unless they plan to take the time to explore Ray's recovery in detail.

#only friends the series #only friends #ofts #ofts ep11 #only friends episode 11 #ray only friends #sand only friends #khaotung thanawat #first kanaphan #raysand #sandray #raysan #sanray #ray x sand #sand x ray #thai bl #thai drama #asianlgbtqdramas #gmmtv #gmmtv series #firstkhao #alcoholism #addiction #rehab #meta #i love many aspects of this show #which is why i want to criticize it #i've been thinking on this for days #and i don't know if it makes any sense #so don't hesitate to ask for clarification

[mcx7demonbros]

Le Traître [The Traitor]

Ft. Catholic!MC, the Demon Brothers

C/W. Kidnapping, torture, mention of religion, mention of Ku Klux Klan, slight mention of sex, swearing.

Note. Finally returning with Catholic!MC.

No proofread.

“I promise it will only be a modest party where the people just hanging out. Definitely no kissing, no immodest dancing, no temptation.” Your best friend said as they grabbed your gloved hand. You yanked your hand back immediately. Ever since you and Lucifer made a pact, his blue mark was engraved to your dominant hand. Living in a religious region, you knew better than to let the pact marks be exposed and always wearing extremely modest attires, which covered most of your body. For you hands, you covered them with gloves.

When the hot season came, everybody put on more casual clothes, you being the odd one out wearing uptight outfits. While everybody enjoying pool parties, you excused yourself by saying you had something to do. To not make the excuse a lie, you even left the town to visit Solomon multiple times. If you couldn’t excuse yourself by saying you were busy, you told them parties were temptations and refused to go.

It wasn’t like you weren’t religious. In fact, you are a devout Catholic, assist at Mass every Sunday and whenever you can, pray the Rosary daily, practice abstinence on days prescribed by the Church, go to Confession every week, donate 1/10 of your earning to the Church, etc. You didn’t fall into any serious sin, except, well, that time when you shared the bed with the Lucifer on the night before you returned to the human world from the exchange program in Devildom.

You used every mean you could to hide the secret of what had transpired during the one year you disappeared. If the secret was revealed, you honestly don’t know what you would do, your whole life would be completely ruined. The only one who knew the secret was your confessor, a priest of good reputation, who, by his oath, prohibited from revealing the secrets he heard inside the confessional.

“MC…MC…”. Hearing the call, you finally returned to your senses.

“Are you going or not?” Your friend put their hands on their hips, waiting for an answer from you. Apparently, they were extremely tired to continue the conversation.

“I…well…I mean the party is in another town, right? I heard most people there are Protestants and they can be quite radicals even for Protestantism.”

“It’s alright. Even if they were radicals, they couldn’t go against the laws without alerting the authorities in this day and age.” You friend reasoned.

“Oh, ok, I will go then.”

Little did you know you would come to regret that decision later.

“Open your fucking eyes, Popish scum.” You heard a voice shouted at you. You tried to open your eyes, but you felt too drowsy. In your memory, you remembered vaguely coming to the modest gathering in a garden and your best friend brought you some drink and then…and then…

Splash

The cold water made you open your eyes immediately. You looked around. This isn’t the garden…I can’t move. You looked at yourself, your arms and legs were tied to a large black chair. You spotted two persons in white hoods looking at you. At first, you didn’t realize who they were, but you soon recognized their symbol, the Ku Klux Klan, the infamous racist and anti-Catholic terrorist organization.

“Ku Klux Klan.” You shouted.

“Ah, your brain finally function normally, Popish scum.” One of the KKK members chuckled, it was like they were enjoying your suffering.

“I was at the gathering. How come I am here?” You yelled your question at them.

“Let me explain.” Another KKK members entered the room. They then took off the hood.

“You!!!” you couldn’t believe in what you had just seen. Your best friend was standing in front of you. So it was them who betrayed you.

“Well, you see, a few years ago, our leader devised a plan to destroy all Popish scum in the region. He sent us out to Catholic towns as spies. Our mission was to infiltrate the Catholic towns, and if possible, bring some naive Popish scums back to our base and put them to death.”

“Love thy neighbor as thyself. What you are doing is against the fifth commandment, thou shalt not kill, and Jesus’s commandment to love as a whole.”

They were silence for a minute. Just when you thought your words, by mentioning Jesus, had reached them, they laughed out loud like they had just heard the funniest joke ever.

“Nah, the commandments don’t apply to you Popish scum who dared to elevate a normal woman and that old geezer in Rome to the same status as God.” Your best friend scoffed at you.

“Those who mock the Mother of God and the Vicar of Christ never have a happy ending.” Your words only made them harden their hearts.

“Thank you for giving us such good laughs. The reactions from your Popish scums are the best.”

So this is not the first time they did this. I’m such a fool. I’m such a bad judge of character. You blamed yourself.

“Alright, before we began to play with you. Let’s me see all the secrets you have been hiding under those uptight clothes.” Your friend began by using a knife to tear apart your clothes.

*gasp* all three KKK members in the room couldn’t hide their shock discovering the marks on your body.

“Well, I didn’t expect that.” You fake best friend commented. “I was expecting some ugly scars from an accident. Who would have thought this Popish trash is secretly a devil worshipper?”

“No, I’m not.” You denied the accusation.

“Well, then explain, what are these?” Your fake friend pointed their finger at the pact marks on your body.

“Well, that…”

“Hah, cat got your tongue, MC?” You really couldn’t argue back. You had lost the war the moment they found out about your pact marks. Whatever you said to explain, it would sound to wrong to them. If you said the marks were tattoos, you would be seen as associated yourself with un-Christian symbols to a certain degree. If you said you were forced to make pacts with demons (you weren’t), it would be a sinful lie and it was a fact that no human could be forced to make a pact with a demon. If you said you made pacts deliberately, you would be labeled as listening to the devil’s tempting words and selling your soul.

“It’s demon pact marks, right?”

Your eyes widened in shock. They know?

“Don’t be surprised, I did some research on demonology, you know?” Your fake friend smirked. “Let’s see what do we have here.” They used the knife and began to tear apart all your clothes. “Mammon…Leviathan…Beelzebub…Asmodeus…Beelzebub…Belphegor…”. While your fake friends were checking the marks, the two other KKK members couldn’t help but getting shiver sent down their spine. All of the names were infamous names in Hell. How the hell did you manage to score pacts with them all.

“You know, I did look up to you. You were always such a devout person, never forgetting your prayers, always thanking God for graces you received. But now, seeing you in such a woeful state now with all your dirty secrets exposed gives me some satisfactory. I guess I always hate you for the holier-than-thou aura you gave.” Your fake friend’s eyes landed on your gloved hand. “Hm, I always wonder why you wear gloves, another devil mark, perhaps.” They took off the the glove on your dominant hand, only to reveal a blue mark giving off a powerful aura.

“L-U-C-I-F-E-R.”

“Im…impossible.” Their yell surprised you. You were expecting another series of mocking words and totally didn’t expect them to shout in shock like that.

“No…no person can make a pact with the fallen Morningstar. Y…you must be the prophesied Antichrist.”

Wait, what!?

Your “friend” ran out of the room, to the shock of not only you, but the two KKK members in the room. About five minutes later, they returned with a man in KKK uniform, but he was unhooded though. And you realized who the man was. You had seen him several times in the past when he visited your hometown. He was the mayor of the town you were visiting. That was it, everyone in the town was in this evil scheme.

The evil mayor took a look at your hand before laughing out loud.

“This is God’s will. He let the Antichrist fall into our hand.” The mayor then turned to one of the two KKK members who were always in the room. “You, go get me the ‘sanctifying’ tools.”

“Yes, Leader.” The member ran out and returned with many torture devices.

“Oh let’s start with this.” The mayor took out a branding iron.

Lucifer was playing the piano in the music room. Hearing the melodious music and looking at his fingers dancing on the keys are enough to make one forget their life difficulties.

“Argh.” Suddenly, Lucifer felt a painful sensation on his hand, painful enough for him to let out a cry.

“MC!!!” It didn’t take long for him to realize you were in pain.

“Ya all will have to admit ya loss in a few seconds.” Mammon prepared to show his brothers his cards.

“Quit talking and show us already.” Belphie demanded.

“Alright, prepare to-argh.” A painful sensation on Mammon’s hand made him dropped his cards to the ground.

“My beautiful hand!”

“My hamburger!”

“My book!”

“My pillow!”

“My D.D.D!”

“My cards!”

However, all soon realized their real priority - you. At the same time, they all heard large sound resonated from deep inside the house.

Sequel - Le Massacre

At first, I don’t intend it to be this long. In the end, I have to break the fic into 2 parts.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #omswd #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me x reader #obey me catholic mc #lucifer x reader #mammon x reader #leviathan x reader #satan x reader #asmodeus x reader #beelzebub x reader #belphegor x reader #om! shall we date #omswd lucifer #omswd mammon #omswd leviathan #omswd satan #omswd asmodeus #omswd beelzebub #omswd belphegor

[garbage-empress]

12 Step Programs seem kinda like abstinence only sex education but for substance abuse tbh

[whatthefuckisupwiththat]

the more i learn about addiction, the more i want to set fire to the 12 step program and the idea that total abstinence is the only way to recover tbh.

#personal

[thewrongmoon]

no bc i need to know what murray was referring to when he said the kids would "play too much nintendo, eat too much junk food, smoke some ganja, pound some beers, experiment sexually" because like let's break it down

play too much nintendo: mike and will. mike and will are they only two who ever mention nintendo.

eat too much junk food: el and mike. el and mike are the only ones who are shown or referenced to eat junkfood (eggos, doritos, poptarts)

smoke some ganja: jonathan and argyle, obviously. will and mike dont seem interested and el doesnt even know what weed is

experiment sexually: ???? WHO WAS THIS TOWARDS?? like maybe jonathan and argyle because they're older and make more explicit sex references. el.... i don't know if el even knows how sex works to be honest? i can't imagine hopper explaining it to her past "if you have sex you'll get pregnant and die" ala most abstinence sex ed programs. it's a weird comment to make when the house has a total of one girl and four boys in it and 3 of them are related. and i don't think he was thinking of mike and el because clearly he noticed they were fighting. so tl;dr this could have been something more so referencing homosexuality.

if we look at this as an outline for what happens in season 4 we see the following happen:

nintendo:

-mike refences nintendo at suzie's

-will references nintendo in the van

junk food:

-mike eats poptarts (refered to as junkfood) in ep1 before school

-el eats waffles at diner

-eddie eats spaghetti-o's at rick's house

smoke some ganja:

-eddie sells weed in episode 1

-jarglye smokes weed in episodes 1, 2 and 5

pound some beers:

-eddie drinks beer while hiding from the police

-lucas drinks alcohol during party after the game

-russian prisoners drinking liquor at final meal

experiment sexually:

-sexual tension with nancy and steve (this is mentioned in the script)

-eden and argyle making out

-......................whatever mike and will have going on?

tell me your thoughts though, i'd like to know what you think of this line

#stranger things #byler