HOW TO GET RID OF KNEE PAIN?
Knee pain is a common health issue affecting everyone at different life stages. Knee pain can be caused by injuries such as ligament or torn cartilage or medical conditions such as arthritis, gout, etc. Having sore knees is usually not a sign of anything serious and can be treated at home by adopting some home remedies. However, with age, the knee problem worsens; people who are overweight and people into sports are at an increased risk of sports despite their age.
Knee pain can majorly be classified into two broader categories:
Knee Pain with Injury
Overusing or twisting the knee during exercise or physical activity
Pain between your kneecap and shin caused by the injury
Knee pain which causes difficulty in standing and stretching
Knee Pain without Injury
Pain and swelling in knees and around the knees as often occur with age
Difficulty in walking and bending knees
Out-of-the-blue knee pain at any point of the day
Knee pain can be easily managed by following these three steps at home immediately after facing knee pain
Use an ice pack or a frozen bag on the knee and massage it for 15-20 minutes 2-3 times a day
In case when the pain does not reduce, take a painkiller
Do more rest and put less weight on your knee, such as by standing for a more extended time
We advise you to seek medical treatment to avoid further complications. Consult experienced doctors to avoid and get better treatments through SmartCare.
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What do you think Steve's favorite part of your body is? Ass? Boobs? Thighs? Lips? or something else?
you’re delirious if you think he has just one favorite babycakes ! at any given moment, you could ask him and he’d probably still manage to surprise you.
sometimes steve’s predictable — wear that low cut top? your boobs are the thing he can’t get enough of. he’s eying them, sneaking a squeeze, dropping a hickey when he can so everyone knows that those beautiful boobs are taken. a tight skirt? you can be pretty sure he’s drooling over your ass, especially with how he insists you walk before him and how he just happens to have his hand in your back pocket the whole night.
but! but he still surprises you!
you wear a new dress that he’s never seen before and steve can’t keep his hands off you, can’t stop pawing at your sides, can’t stop kissing up your neck even though you’re definitely going to be late for you date and when his hands smooth down your sides, he groans appreciatively and rolls his head back, “god, you look gorgeous. i honestly don’t think i can let you leave like this— i think i’m too obsessed with how fucking good you look in this dress.”
then he sinks to knees, his hands creeping around your waist to hold you as he kisses, slow and languid kisses atop your tummy. and you laugh, a little in surprise, a little in disbelief because he’s kissing your tummy.
“i would’ve thought you’d love the ass…” you comment quietly. you make a move to swivel around but steve’s hands don’t let you, his brown eyes peering up at you sincerely as he says, “are you kidding me? i mean, it’s great as always—“ he gives it a little pat, still grinning up at you endearingly. “but this—” he runs his hand down your sternum, trailing across the plains of your stomach. “and these.” his hands trails down to your hips, giving them a firm loving squeeze. “and christ, don’t get me started on these.” his huge hands wrap around the skin of your thighs and you have to fight the inbuilt instinct of parting your legs whenever steve gets his hands on them.
steve kisses the exposed skin, his nose nuzzling in, stealing the scent of the perfume along your inner thighs before he raises himself off his knees. his hands tuck under your jaw, cradling it as he kisses you once, quick, before mumbling against your lips, “fuck, honey, i’m— it’s adorable that you think i could focus on anything else.”
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i’m a disabled trans mexican idiot who could really use some help staying afloat these days as i am currently unable to work nor reach social securities offices for benefits. i have no transportation and am deeply mentally ill with debilitating anxiety & bouts ov psychosis. often times i cannot leave my bed due to intense physical pain.
any help is appreciated <3
it’ll be towards medications for chronic illness, food, and basic necessities for my unhealthy housing situation
p*yp*l — @ lumezquiti v*nmo — lumez c*sh*pp — $lumezquiti
i do have commissions open and a shop with art and other things, DM for info
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um, hi. you can totally ignore me if i'm being too presumptuous. but i love asymmetrical warfare but i also dont like 'and they all live happily ever after' stories that force jason to compromise his beliefs just to have a family again. if it's not too spoilery, i just wanted to know if that's your end goal for jason in the series. (i just dont wanna get too invested if that's the case huhu)
Hi, anon. I think some authors might get tetchy at a question like this, but I don't mind. I've definitely gotten invested in more than one story/series and after seeing how things ended, I wished I'd stopped part of the way through. Hard to be an avid reader and not have this experience. It's just a reality of fanfic that you're going to run into characterizations and plotlines you don't agree with because authors are free to interpret the characters however they want.
When I started writing Asymmetrical Warfare, I gave very little thought to how things would end. I was, and continue to be, much more interested in the story along the way. My goal for Jason is for his character to evolve authentically over the course of the series and for him to make choices that reflect his morals, his beliefs, his wants, and his needs. One of the key decisions I made to differentiate the story from canon's Under the Hood is the timeline. I'm not sure exactly how long the events are supposed to take in the comics (weeks to months?), but Asymmetrical Warfare takes place roughly over a year, so much longer. The idea being to 1) give me a huge sandbox to play in and lots of room for storytelling, and 2) to give Jason and the Bats (and now apparently the Ghosts, too, plus all the OCs from Cime Alley we haven't even gotten to know yet 😳) time to evolve.
As to which direction that evolution takes him ...
But I can guarantee that I'm not investing all this time and energy into telling a story that does a 180 at the very end and tramples all over Jason's autonomy in the process. Whatever happens in the stunning conclusion, I think you'll be able to see Jason headed in that direction well before we get there. I hope you stay with me for the ride, but you can always stop reading if you don't like the way the story is unfolding.
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What if Wei Ying turned out different? What if he had gone through much worse as a homeless child?
Heaven knows what his life was like before Jiang Fengmian found him, but it surely wasn't friendly. What if that changed him so much? The trauma ingraining itself into his brain that it becomes his main source of survival?
Yiling was a badly managed town, even the children saw that. And among the cultivation sects, none were really keen on investing their time and materials on withered soil, especially the nearest jurisdictions of Qishan Wen and Yunmeng Jiang.
That's why in Yiling, everything tagged crime can be stashed away, hidden into, escaped out of. Sects turn a blind eye to it, hell, even the previous Baron of the land didn't bother reclaiming Yiling because of its high crime rate.
It built itself up by blood money and fear, and with the Burial Mounds so close in vicinity it was much worse.
Anything and everything illegal was practically spoiled culture there.
Especially,
Especially slave traders, especially human trafficking. There was no authority to call upon, no one strong enough of a will to stop it. And so whenever Yiling hears the heart-dropping sound of golden bells chiming, the heavy hooves of a bull that carries with it a large wooden cage. They do nothing.
They can do nothing.
And there goes A-Ying, freshly orphaned, still getting a hang of wandering around the streets he would have to call his new home.
The first time it happened, his face got too close to the torch while he panicked. The large men and their ropes scared him too much and he wanted them to let go let go let go-
They didn't like how he moved around too much and tightened the noose around his neck, A-Ying suddenly couldn't breathe. He felt the bones of his weak throat cave on itself and it hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurt so bad. It made him thrash around the cage widely, using his remaining air to scream so violently that would have guaranteed his broken throat.
In his panic attack he hit his head on the splintered pole used as a torch on the corner of the cage they threw him in.
A-Ying didn't think he had the strength to scream about it, but apparently he did. He realized later that the graining sound against his ears were his blood-curdling cries, and that he couldn't feel the left side of his head.
They never took him, in the end. The slave traders complained loudly that he damaged himself and would be of no value. The large man who tied him up, held him by his hair and threw him out of the cage.
After that it was black.
You'd think that after that experience, Wei Ying would have known how to escape people like these then.
He should have died. He should have died a long time ago. When the slave traders lured him in with promise of a meal, when a drunk man mistook him for someone else and beat him with shattered wine jars, when a cultivator feigned kindness and Wei Ying took his hand--
A-Ying should have died when he was 5 when-
Wei Ying should have died when he was 7 when-
When-
It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. It hurts. Someone stop it STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOP IT STOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPITSTOPSTOPSTOP
He can't be blamed! He can't deal with it! The ringing in his head has made itself a home in his head a long time ago and at that point its been a part of his life.
He's half-blind, half-dying, half a body, full of scars.
Wei Ying can't be blamed.
So when a man comes to him, on a cold winter night calling his name-- he can't be blamed.
(That was used on him several times, several ways, at this point the whole world knows his name. Maybe they were never addressing him really? And it's just so his foolish brain responded to every call hoping it was a-niang or baba who came back to get him.--
Hoping. He was hoping. Such a silly thing to do these days.)
The man wore purple robes, was surrounded by many people with purple robes. One of them approached when he didn't respond.
Wei Ying was 11 by now, 12 almost, he couldn't be blamed.
The robes were different-- a dark royal hue, but it was the same color of the- the same- and the man was approaching him too quickly he-
A child was never supposed to go through this pain. Wei Ying wouldn't know this, but he couldn't be blamed. A small tooth-dagger was plunged into the cultivator's abdomen and the man shrieked--- he couldn't be blamed.
He ran and ran and ran, the man who called his name ran after. His feet didn't acquaint well with the cold solid ground, it burned his skin ironically, but he ran with only fear to power him.
The man grabbed him by the shoulder and said his name again-- Wei Ying couldn't hear anything amongst the rapid beating of his own heart. Couldn't see quite clearly, couldn't think quite straight, he feared.
Wei Ying couldn't have been blamed. When carriage wheels screeched to a halt but it was too late-- and the man in purple had to let go of him one way or another.
He didn't stay too long to see what happened to him. He just ran and ran and ran.
Until there was no ground to run on. Until Yiling was no longer seen. Until he felt the last of his breath stolen from him.
Wei Ying falls falls fall-
His eyes close on their own, they can't be blamed.
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“How long have you felt this way?” He asks gently but his voice shakes a little and Robby only responds with a confused “Huh?” Trying to think of a different way to phrase it he pulls Robby in a little tighter “Okay how about- when was the last time you remember not being in pain?” He asks and to his surprise Robby really stops to think about it. “At all?” He checks and he nods in confirmation as Robby sags against his chest “Dunno like- six or seven years maybe? But it wasn’t so bad in the beginning.”
He blanches, feeling his mouth open but he can’t get any words out.
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I would like to introduce you to the concept of Agony™. It's an aerosolized chemical weapon I made up for a fic that just.... activates all of the whumpee's pain receptors at once, for upwards of an hour depending on the dose. Just, indescribable pain in their entire body, for an *hour*
I also like this because then the caretaker wants to be able to help but there's literally nothing they can do except wait it out >:0)
I used it to make my whumpee so delirious that they called their caretaker "dad" for the first time.
Ooo, very nice, very nice! That kind of reminds me of the effects of naloxone! If you combined them that would be a grand ol’ time 👏 And of course I’m always a sucker for parental caretaker/whumpee relationships!!
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