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copperbadge · 6 months

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Hello, Mr. Badge, I seem to remember that you once posted about your processes and systems for staying organized in life with Excel spreadsheets etc. I’ve been struggling a lot with depression and executive dysfunction issues and don’t want it to impact my work.

Do you use the same processes at work? I get overwhelmed with the amount of documentation we have and the exceptions to the rules in our processes.

I'm so sorry you're struggling! It's really rough, and the more complicated the task feels, the more fraught it seems, the harder it is to even get a start. I feel that hard.

As for organizing work like my home life....well, it's sort of the same. I don't make a strong distinction between life and work simply because a lot of what needs organizing in my life IS my work, so it's tough to talk about them separately.

For example, I use Google Tasks to build a to-do list each day, but that to-do list starts with "stuff I'll do before work" then "shower" then all my work stuff, then "evening" and then all the stuff to do after work, ending with "7pm chores" (because I have a lot of stuff to do right around 7pm, which I need to post about elsewhere). Then the stuff I've pushed off to next day is below that, and that just bumps up the next morning. What's important isn't really how I keep the list, but that I keep it in a way that is constantly accessible, and I've trained myself to 1. put everything on it, even stuff like "grocery shop" and 2. check it whenever I feel lost. I don't find google calendars very helpful, however, so while work makes me use one for meetings, everything else goes on a calendar I made in Google Sheets that I'm just super used to by now.

It sounds like you're having a fairly specific issue, which may not even be related to your mental health (though assuredly the mental health issues aren't helping). If you have a lot of confusing documentation and exceptions in the stuff you do at work, that can be legit stressful even for someone who isn't dealing with other stuff, so I just want you to know that this may not only be a You Problem. My problem is usually the opposite, in that I'm often the first person doing something, or the only person who's done it in a while, so there's no documentation at all. But when I do have documentation I often will simply rewrite it.

After all, just because you have a handbook doesn't mean you have to use it. You can copy it over into another document and make yourself a step-by-step guide and/or a checklist. Like, I do our holiday cards every year, and my "HOLIDAY CARDS" document says "Here's the first thing you do, here's the second, do this before going past that, check this before asking for that". Literally at one point the document says "Stop. Before you go any further, do this step. Even if you don't understand why, do this step" because in the past I've disregarded that instruction ("Why on earth would I do it this way?") and lived to regret it.

Making the guide really, really sucks. Often it will take me four or five passes at a project before my guide is comprehensive (this is my fifth year doing the holiday card project and the document still has some steps missing at the end). But once you have it, it's invaluable, and often in the past I've found other people want my guides because they're fairly clear and precise about what needs doing when. For example, you might say, "Open the file and move column B to in front of column A. NOTE: THERE IS ONE EXCEPTION, THIS IS THE EXCEPTION." Or "Once you've saved the file, save a second copy to your backup folder so you can go back to it if you delete something you shouldn't. Stop and check: is this file from before or after October? If after, remember, you have to also rename it." If you find that there's a mistake you make frequently, figure out what would stop you from making it and add that in.

(We had a guy at work whose last name was VERY long and Italian, and so when I was working phones he got a special entry in the directory document I made -- the first line was all his directory info and the second line was just the phonetic pronunciation of his last name. He found out, which I had never intended him to do, and lost his shit laughing. "No wonder you're the only one who gets it right!")

So my recommendation to you is to create your own handbook, your own templates, and your own way of doing things and just slip that back into the system you have at work. Draw a diagram by hand if you need a flow chart. My approach to all my organizational issues has always been "What would make me do this correctly / prevent me from doing that thing wrong / remind me what to do / make it easier for me to start".

I think of this nowadays as the "Take the cupboard doors off" school of organizing, because to really make full use of my kitchen in a way that I liked, I had to take some of the cupboard doors off. It looks messier and kind of cheap, but it's actually a much more organized system now, and who's in my kitchen other than me?

#sam has adhd #adhd #organizing

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swtichblde · 5 days

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Nurse Kenjaku and Male reader, hospital sex please and thank you <3

𓂃 𓈒 ϑ Let Me Take Your Vitals.

──〃synopsis : You are completed with your stay at the hospital after five days of recovery from a bad stomach bug. Your nurse is coming to take your final round of vitals, but the checklist seems to shift directions.

──〃characters : Nurse!Kenjaku, Male!reader

──〃content : Smut, dominant Kenjaku, submissive reader, hospital sex, handjob, blowjob, latex gloves, edging, teasing, consensual

──〃word count : 1423

The walls of the infirmary were plain and white. The only thing that changed the scenery was the TV screen pointed towards the similarly plain bed. Your right thumb fiddles with the other, awaiting the nurse who would take your vitals one last time before you are discharged.

It had been five days since you were brought in. It was nothing overly serious, just a bug. Although, it was uncommon and could have been serious if you were not in the hospital's care. With your train of thought drifting to the quiet hum of the TV, it was soon interrupted by a subtle knock on the door to your room.

“Come in!” You shout, the handle of the door clicking open soon afterwards.

Through the opening gap, you see the black, shoulder-length hair of the nurse. His face wore a smirk as he hugged the clipboard close to his chest. You could not help the jump of your heart as you saw the beauty before you. Shaking your awe, you greeted him with a smile as did he.

“I am here to take your vitals.” The nurse says dryly, eyeing you up and down in the process.

He reached for the velcro blood pressure cuff, undoing it once it was in his grasp. You bring out your arm to be accessible and he swiftly encloses it in the cold material. You are very used to the feeling by this point, so when he begins to pump the cuff, the squeeze is hardly an issue. The only issue you seem to suffer with is the intoxicating floral smell of the man’s perfume along with his good looks going straight to your dick.

He marks a few things down on his clipboard before taking a seat on the edge of your bed; his leg crossing over the other. That smirk has not left his face since the first glimpse you got of him.

“You appear to be stable, so no need to resume with the list,” He states, placing the clipboard beside him on the bed. “Although, there is one thing we have yet to check you for entirely.” He whispered with his hand snaking towards you.

Your heart thumps in your chest once you realize the impending direction of his hand. You gulp, returning to hold the eye contact you previously had. “Go ahead, I wouldn’t mi–” You were cut off by his finger which was now shushing you. You nod in response slowly.

His other, needy hand, pulls back the sheet, revealing your rising excitement below the hospital gown. Your cheeks flush when you realize his smirk is only growing more intense.

You watch his fingers gracefully dance along the bone of your hip. The tips of them were only centimetres away from the half-hard embarrassment below your garments. It was like as he entered the room, he could smell the instant arousal you got from the ethereal appearance he wore with pride.

It was plausible you were simply pent up from the past five days, but something about the demeanour of this man pulled you in like a fish on a hook.

“Oh my, someone is eager!” The nurse provoked, slipping a hand under the gown to lift it up.

Your body twitched, begging for stimulation to your erection, but unfortunately, he avoids the touch. Instead, he patted down the fold he made in your hospital gown. Your eyebrows furrow as he removes himself entirely from your side, leaving you open to his view.

“Ple–” He cuts you off again. This time, with a verbal silencing.

Despite his teasing bringing more desperation out of you, you cannot help but seek his touch to return.

“My, my,” he began, inspecting your length that continued to spring to life. He smirked again, removing his clipboard from beside you as well. “Someone is eager. Do not move.” He instructs.

He placed the clipboard down onto the nurse’s desk, replacing the grasp with the small box of latex gloves. He popped out one of the white disposables from the rest, tossing its holder back onto the table.

Although his back was facing you, the snap of the glove on his hand sent a jolt of surprise down to your core. He turned, holding the edge of the white latex with his bare hand, pulling it to snap once more. Your eyes shot open when you realised what he had planned.

He returned to his previous place beside your thigh on the mattress, only this time, his creeping hand did not tease. He pressed a clothed finger to your tip. You shuddered in response, keeping your own hands to your sides as you were told to. Five days of no stimulation, who knew you would be so sensitive from a simple touch.

Though, that simple touch did not remain for long.

His finger slid down your length, the other digits joining in unison. Soon, they formed a fist, grasping around the width of your aching erection. You cannot help but let out a whimper in response, although it only added to the nurse’s cockiness.

A low snicker could be heard as he picked up his pace. Your mouth was now agape, moans drawn out from every motion of the nurse’s firm grip.

“Desperate, are we?” The black-haired male said, noticing your hips started to buck in anticipation.

He could tell you were already close. This may have been the most pathetically quick orgasm you would have in your lifetime, but to your surprise, that would not be the case. He removed his now pre-cum coated hand from your dick. Your whines echoing throughout the room.

“Please…” You begged, but to no avail. He was cruel, you thought. Maybe edging you was simply part of this erotic exam.

“You poor thing,” He teased, slipping the sticky latex material from his hand. “Fortunately, you passed that portion of the exam. Only one more procedure to go.” He said, easing your distress with a point to his mouth.

He tossed the soiled glove into the garbage pale beside you, making sure to lean close to your face. You breathed in that sweet floral scent again, which only invited more twitching to your dick.

“Nurse, please!” You begged once more, earning you a pat on the thigh to silence your attempts.

“Relax.” He said, bringing his face close to kiss your sensitive tip.

He opens his lipstick covered mouth to allow your length to slip inside, his tongue pressing against the underside. The nurse licked up all your pre-cum from the previous exam, popping off from your erection loudly. He replaced the sensation with teasing kisses up the side.

He made sure to wrap his hand around your base as he tediously sucked and kissed at your tip, filling his mouth once more with your, once again, aching member. He lets his mouth sink lower onto you, gulping which creates a tightness that sends a jolt of pleasure up your body. You moan loudly in response.

His eyes found their way back to your own as you broke his request to not move. You place your hand into his hair, clenching it into a fist but not pulling.

“Yes, yes!” you cry out, bucking your hips down his throat as you near your orgasm once again.

He closes his eyes, bobbing his head onto your desperate dick as your body begins to shake. Your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as a long, drawn out moan slips past your lips.

He pulls himself off you, swallowing all that was in his mouth before placing an innocent kiss to your tip. You whimper in response, overstimulated and exhausted from the events.

“Good job! Your examination has been completed. You passed everything and you are safe to go home.” He said, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb.

Your breath is left uneven, your eyes half-lidded as the nurse cleaned up and headed for the door. You frowned in your post-orgasmic state at the sight of his dismissal before he slowed to a stop.

“Do not forget me, my dear patient. You were so good.” He praised, blowing a kiss to you before he turned, opened the door, and left.

You could not believe what had just happened, it felt like a wet dream. You knew the doctor would see you soon, so by instinct, you covered yourself with your gown again. Pants beginning to halt.

What a unique nurse.

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sirfrogsworth · 6 months

Text

Froggie's (Almost) Very Productive Day

I try to fit as many out-and-about chores as possible into a single day so I only have one set of post-exertional malaise consequences instead of consequences after each day of doing a thing. So any time I decide to drive, I try to find several tasks to accomplish all at once.

My first stop was the Family Services Division in the hopes of getting some help with grocery bills. I am making ends meet, but it seems to be getting harder each month. And maybe I could have skipped my trip to Florida and saved that money, but if I don't do something drastic for my mental health, I fear this first holiday season without a parent could send me into the darkness.

I needed to do an interview to finish applying for SNAP. I wanted to do a phone interview, but the next appointment was in January. So I went to social services where they allow walk-in appointments. I waited in a tiny plastic chair for several hours until they called my name. She yelled out "Benjamin" because when most people see "Grelle" they aren't really sure how to say it. (Rhymes with belly.)

She started my interview and it was going swimmingly at first. But then she started asking questions about the house and my inheritance and my trust. I had no idea what to tell her. It feels like a mistake now, but I have had pretty much no involvement in that process. I have no idea how it works. And I started to panic because she was acting like I was committing fraud or something by not mentioning the trust. But the entire point of the trust was to protect my benefits. Nothing is mine. I own nothing. I have no access. But I had no idea how to explain that.

Maybe my lawyer can help me apply, but I did not want them investigating everything and screwing things up before we even have the estate through probate. We specifically hired a lawyer and went through this convoluted process to make sure everything was on the up and up. But she really made me feel like I was doing something wrong. And that made me panic, which probably made me look even more guilty of something. So I just canceled everything and left.

After a few hours in a crowded government office, I decided to head to a different crowded government office.

I know I didn't need it until 2025, but I decided to go ahead and get my Real ID thingie before my first flight. I was kind of hoping they'd retake my picture because my current driver's license is... well...

And I'm so glad they took my big terrible picture and made it into a smaller, more terrible picture.

People complain about the DMV, but the one near me runs like a machine. It was filled with people and I still only had a 10 minute wait time.

I'm starting to wonder if all of those 80s comedians who were all, "What's the deal with the DMV?" were exaggerating.

Good stuff, Jerry.

I head up to the counter and ask for a Real ID. She asks for two pieces of mail and my birth certificate.

And this disappointed me a little bit.

I did my research. I went to the Real ID website and used their interactive guide to figure out exactly which documents I would need. They gave me this entire checklist and I printed it out and went through all my records and mail trying to find everything.

I had to wait a week for my internet bill to come because it's the only thing I forgot to change to paperless. This took a lot of effort and I was ready to be validated for being so prepared.

And she asks for two pieces of mail.

Any mail.

So I was off to get new tires.

Driving around on 8 year old bald tires was giving me anxiety. I didn't have the money for new tires, but I remember the guy saying they had financing. Recently several of my past debts went past the statute of limitations, and so my credit score lifted itself out of the pits of "poor" and into the realm of "fair." So I decided to take a chance and apply for a Discount Tire credit card. It's a 6 month payment plan with no interest, so that didn't feel as predatory as all the credit card offers I get in the mail with 8000% interest.

We started going through the approval process and I was answering all of the questions and then I saw the name of the bank offering the credit. It was the same bank that tried to sue me and also the bank that can longer collect due to the statute. I was worried they put me on some sort of list and would deny me. But, to my surprise, they approved me instantly. And wouldn't you know it, they gave me almost exactly the amount needed for a new set of tires.

I'm hoping we'll be doing another auction of the house stuff soon, so I plan to pay off the card and then cancel it, but this was the only solution I could come up with to drive safely until then.

I was having a weird day where photos of crusty rich wide dudes followed me everywhere I went. Here is my good ol' boy governor at the entrance to social services.

And at the tire place, I noticed this fella...

Why does every rich CEO think they are a font of wisdom capable of creating compelling quotes?

Does he think no one has ever said "work hard" and "have fun"? And after he said this was he like...

"That's gold, put that in *every* store."

"Oh, and use that picture of me where it looks like a handsome gal just grabbed my undercarriage."

He probably thinks, "Well, no one has put these specific generic platitudes together into a single mega-platitude. I am a genius."

"Be honest, work hard, have fun, be grateful, pay it forward" sounds like he had a bunch of motivational posters on his wall and started reading them all at once.

Like, every line could have a picture of an eagle above it.

In any case, the guy at the tire store, Dakota, was really nice. He made the experience very low anxiety. And he really liked my Thor's Hammer keychain with built in fidget spinner.

He went around showing it to all his coworkers. "Look, it even spins!" And they were like, "Dude, where did you get that??" And I was like, "Amazon." Now I'm just imagining 10 dudes at a tire store all fidgeting their hammers.

As nice as he was, Dakota was still a salesman and had a job to do. He gave me two tire options and tried to upsell me. The cheapest tires had a "1" rating for winter. He said they get "super hard" in the cold... I tried not to giggle. But I explained I drive about twice a month and mostly to the grocery store. If it is a bad winter day, I'll just wait or get delivery. He understood and set me up with the cheaper tires.

He then checked out my car and noticed my tire pressure sensors were dying. I keep getting a warning light on my dash. Apparently they all have tiny batteries in them that die after 7 years. And you can't just replace the batteries so you have to install brand new sensors.

And this is where my social anxiety got me into trouble.

I don't actually need these sensors. They are usually inaccurate. I prefer to test my tires with an actual gauge. But I got so caught up in his sales pitch that I agreed to replace them... at $60 each. For that I could have gotten the fancier tires. I really don't care if an orange light shows up on my dash. And I looked up the price online and a pack of 4 is $30. Though that is without installation.

But still... I wasn't thinking and he was so nice that I was just like, "I want to please Dakota. Saying no might make Dakota sad." Dakota's job is selling me but that doesn't mean I have to buy anything. He would live if I had said "no thanks."

To make my blunder more blunderous, when they finished the tires he asked for my key fob. And it decided that was the time for the battery to die. And in order to reset the system for the new tire pressure sensors, you have to press two buttons on the fob for 7 seconds. Thankfully I had a spare fob at home, but if I want my fancy new $240 sensors to work, I have to return to Dakota and have him initialize them.

I really hope these are the Cadillac of sensors.

Or, like, the ones they use on Cadillacs?

They better be accurate, is what I'm saying.

I do feel safer with new tires. So I am glad I did that. And I gave them a good obligatory kick and felt the tread. They seem nice enough even if they get boners in the winter. It's crazy how bald my other tires were in comparison. Like, I can fit half my finger down into the tread on the new ones—which did not get them super hard.

The way I drive, I probably won't wear them down. They'll probably start to rot before I do.

Before I do, meaning before I wear them down.

Not before I rot.

I am not in a rotting competition with my tires.

I was then off to Sam's. I decided all of my hard work accomplishing 2 out of 3 goals deserved some sushi. So I grabbed some California Rolls and headed home. On my way out, a Hummer and a Porsche nearly collided in the parking lot. And they sort of got stuck facing each other. One of them needed to back up and they both signaled at each other like "You back up, I'm not backing up." And it was just this weird standoff between the two douchiest looking cars you could imagine.

I mean, you have to be a douche to drive a Hummer.

I still remember the mystery Hummer dialysis patient from when my dad was going 3 time per week. We could never figure out who owned the Hummer, but we knew it was not the underpaid nurses and techs. So it had to be one of the patients. And none of them seemed the type. We never solved that mystery.

That hummer started off a delightful safety yellow. (Elon would cry.)

They decided this wasn't extra enough... so they did this...

Katrina and I could never decide... are these cow spots or the world's least effective camoflauge?

There was another patient who drove this old beater...

And I loved seeing this car because we had the same one when I was a little kid. I'm afraid the aesthetics of the 1980s Caprice Classic did not stand the test of time, but it had great sentimental appeal for me.

But this maroon beast that squeaked and sputtered its way from here to there belonged to a very sweet older gentleman. Sometimes he and my dad would be dialysis buddies—sitting next to each other in the recliners. And the worst thing about dialysis was the boredom. All you have to do is watch broadcast TV with 4 channels.

All of the TVs require headphones. They give you your own set of super cheap headphones in the dialysis welcome bag. They were very uncomfortable so I ordered my dad better ones with cushioned ear cups.

His dialysis buddy noticed them and thought they looked nice. And then he revealed that his free headphones broke and he didn't know how to get new ones. He had been watching TV with no sound for weeks. So, I bought another pair with the soft ear cups and my dad gave them to his friend. And it just made me happy imagining the two of them watching The Price is Right in matching headphones.

I do have to make fun of this sweet old man a little bit. When I walked passed his car I noticed he implemented the world's most effective anti-theft device ever created.

That's right... The Club™.

If someone decides they have to have a 40 year old car with an engine that sounds like a dying hyena and a hubcap missing... they are out of luck.

But hey, you gotta protect what is important to you. And if I needed a getaway car and my choices were between his beater and the Cow Hummer, I'd take his ride for sure.

Well, I'd try... and then get arrested because The Club™ is undefeatable.

Do NOT look that up on YouTube. It's 100% true. (And the Lock Picking Lawyer doesn't count due to him being able to break into Fort Knox with a paperclip and then doing it again to make sure it isn't a fluke.)

The dialysis center is in the same complex as my local Tolerable Schnucks and I still see that maroon boat of a car every once in a while. I always smile whenever it is there because it lets me know he is hanging in there and hopefully still has sound for his TV.

Wow, I went off on a mega-tangent.

I didn't even finish talking about my day. Where was I? Oh, the douche standoff finally ended. The Porsche Douche capitulated and backed up. Probably due to the fact the Hummer Douche has 0 visibility behind him.

When I got home I started devouring my sushi. I finally heard back from my lawyer. He submitted the last of the evidence for my appeal. And I was finally able to confirm he got the records of my ECT treatments from 20 years ago. I worked so hard to get those. At first, they forgot to send all records before 2011. I had to call back and figure that out. They shipped them and they didn't arrive until a week before we had to file. Everything was so last minute and my anxiety has been... palpable. It felt like when I did my science fair project on Sunday night.

He's hoping to get a decision at the beginning of next year. He warned me that these appeals are usually rejected. And that the most effective method of approval was a hearing in front of an administrative law judge. But that could be delayed by up to a year. So I might need to figure out how to survive until 2025. As long as my brother does what he is legally required to do, I should be okay. But counting on that also gives me palpable anxiety.

And that was my day.

Every time I go out is always an adventure.

But remember...

BE NICE. EAT YOUR VEGGIES. PET CUTE DOGS. DREAM BIG. KEEP YOUR TIRES WARM... FOR REASONS. 5 LIFE LESSONS -Froggie, Mildly Famous Internet Person

#long post

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allthedoorsareopennow · 2 months

Text

Incomplete collection of Marius lore

suggestions for additions are welcome, but it MUST HAVE A SOURCE

overview

He is the ship’s medic[1]/ship’s doctor[3], plays fiddle and has a mechanised right arm[1].

backstory

He is neither a baron nor a doctor[3][5]; ‘Baron’ is a corruption of his original name, Byron von Raum[2][5].

Marius has a sister called Dorothea, and they were raised by a single nonbinary parent. Marius doesn’t remember their name or face, and knows them only as Zeze[6].

It is strongly implied that Marius was not mechanised by Dr Carmilla [7].

Marius is 5’5 and very skinny. This is apparently because he came from a world that is ‘somewhat medieval in its nutrition levels’ and Marius was not a healthy child. [14]

He piloted a mecha called KISMET. She was 5-6 storeys tall and slightly insectoid, like a dragonfly or butterfly. [17]

‘The control pod’s entirely in the head, which allows the internal control rig to right itself like a ball bearing, keeping the pilot upright whether she’s standing on the ground, hovering, flying horizontally, banking sharply or even rolling.’ [17]

The mecha is not meelee-oriented. [17]

time with the mechanisms

Drumbot Brian said that ‘given that we're immortal and don't need a doctor, it's the job we're most comfortable giving Marius, and it keeps him busy’ and also that he ‘frequently tries to psychoanalyze inanimate objects’ [5]

His mechanism was ‘probably botched’ and he has a ‘tenuous grasp on reality’[2]

According to Jonny, he grew a beard presumably around 08/02/2014 ‘almost instantaneously, and without warning’ and was apparently ‘very upset’ and ‘said he’d been holding it in for decades and just that momentary lapse of concentration as I kneecapped him had ruined all his hard work’[8]

He once dressed up as the Toy Soldier for a halloween concert [9]

Drumbot Brian once responded to someone asking how the mechanisms were by describing marius as ‘mad’[10]

The Aurora describes Marius as ‘the broken doctor’ [16]

songs/albums

He had a planned lecture on the psyche of the olympians, but this was cancelled[11]

He helped Ashes install at a minimum the camera in Ulysses’ vault in UDAD, though he does not remember this[4]

Apparently, ‘Marius spent his time on Fort Galfridian sitting at the porthole for days staring into the sun because he didn't realise it was supposed to be unbearable, and now the Ghouls think he's some sort of prophet’ [12]

In The Bifrost Incident, Marius does not know where he got the violin - in fact, he doesn’t even realise he’s holding it until Lyf points it out [15]

death

Marius was always skeptical of the crew’s immortality and was less surprised to meet his end. ‘One day, at something of a loose end, he will decide to check on the octokittens. Unfortunately, the purring horde has not been fed in many decades, and devours him, head to toe, in 11.7 seconds.’ [13]

Jonny is implied to have already witnessed Marius’ death before the final concert; he says ‘11.7 seconds. At least, by my watch.’ [13]

In Marius’ death, tunes from ‘Blood and Whiskey’ and ‘Favoured Son’ can be heard [13].

[1] Mechanisms Marius von Raum Available at: https://themechanisms.com/the-crew/marius-von-raum/ Last accessed: 11/01/24

[2] Young (2020) Future Projects: The Death of Byron von Raum (spoiler free) Available at: https://kofiyoung.com/2020/07/25/future-projects-the-death-of-byron-von-raum-spoiler-free/ Last accessed: 11/01/24

[3] Revenge of Spaceport Mahon

[4] Mechanisms Eskhatos Available at: https://themechanisms.com/fiction/eskhatos/ Last accessed: 11/01/24

[5] Below (2013) Why do immortals need a ship doctor? Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/58736308596/why-do-immortals-need-a-ship-doctor-i-need-an Last accessed: 11/01/24

[6] Young (2023) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/727612334921678848/holding-checklist-titled-qualities-to-kill Last accessed: 11/01/24

[7] Rasputina (2013) Where'd you folks pick up Marius and Raphiella? Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/58960694562/whered-you-folks-pick-up-marius-and-raphiella Last accessed: 11/01/24

[8] Sims (2014) Ingratitude Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/75995731661/ingratitude Last accessed: 11/01/24

[9] wickedacephotos (2013) The Mechanisms at The Cellar, 29 Oct 2013, for Halloween with Polar Patterns Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/wickedacephotos/65528149745/wickedacephotos-the-mechanisms-at-the-cellar Last accessed: 11/01/24

[10] Below (2013) Hooray for questions! Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/the-mechanisms/58734952128/i-apologize-that-i-didnt-ask-a-question-to-make Last accessed: 12/01/24

[11] The Mechanisms Ulysses Dies at Dawn Available at: https://themechanisms.bandcamp.com/album/ulysses-dies-at-dawn Last accessed: 12/01/24

[12] thedreadvampy (2020) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/thedreadvampy/624522490768736256/i-feel-like-i-should-clarify-because-it-does-at Last accessed: 12/01/24

[13] The Mechanisms (2020) Death to the Mechanisms Available at: https://themechanisms.bandcamp.com/album/death-to-the-mechanisms Last accessed: 12/01/24

[14] thedreadvampy (2020) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/thedreadvampy/630817295229468672/so-i-am-absolutely-going-to-go-draw-tim-with Last accessed: 12/01/24

[15] thedreadvampy (2020) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/thedreadvampy/631436135234699264/you-dont-need-to-awnser-this-because-i-am-lore Last accessed: 12/01/24

[16] themechanisms A Bedtime Story Available at: https://themechanisms.com/fiction/ghost-in-the-machine/ Last accessed: 06/03/24

[17] Young (2023) Available at: https://www.tumblr.com/neitherabaron/708247931183153152 Last accessed: 11/04/24

To do:

not yet added Marius’ dttm dialogue

may add more detail to what is contained in expert testimony

could probably add detail on things seen doing in photos, e.g. Marius playing rock paper scissors with TS. (are photoshoots canon? I assume so)

[3] missing a link

wow did I really miss pilchard. I will Get To It at some point maybe

does anyone have the his arm is like a fungus post link handy

perhaps more backstory info from byron

https://x.com/neitherabaron/status/1231124594544783361?s=20

https://x.com/neitherabaron/status/1231604579529302018?s=20

numbers are ordered mostly in when I added the source rather than order of appearance as I have moved things around a lot. as above this is very incomplete and I don’t have the willpower to update this now maybe I will later. I’m just uploading it now since someone wanted marius lore

#doors.txt #the mechanisms #marius von raum

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theresattrpgforthat · 6 days

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Mint Plays Games: The Wildsea

I spent the month of April (and a little bit of May) playing a game of The Wildsea as part of our Planedawn Orphans meta-campaign series. The Wildsea is the brainchild of Felix Isaacs, and published under Myth-Works, and it’s had such a successful crowdfunding experience that it’s got a number of special scenarios, expansions and game accessories for the dedicated collector. I have access to the original game, as well as the Storm & Root expansion, but most of what we used was just from the original game.

The Wildsea was chosen to represent the “Earth” element from the checklist in Planedawn Orphans, this time targeting a relic titled “The Titan’s Throne.” Once again, we had a few folks who signed up to play as their Planedawn Orphans characters, and a few people who just signed up to play The Wildsea.

Once again, the setting and character creation was very very fun, and in this case, I think it might have been my favourite part of the game, especially when we got to ship creation. I’ve often referenced Forged in the Dark games as a cornerstone for The Wildsea in the past, but the character and ship creation process is, in my opinion, much more time-intensive than many other typical Forged in the Dark games. When you sit down to make a ship, each player has a number of stakes they can spend to ensure that the ship has a component or two that they really want. Our crew decided to build our ship out of the body of a giant lamprey eel, covered with copper scales and complete with a lightning spear built into the tail. We all agreed it would likely be horrifying to look at; and we embraced that horror whole-heartedly.

The rules are very similar to Forged in the Dark, with the added mechanic of a Twist, which makes the generally larger dice pool more interesting; roll two of any number and apart from success or failure, you’re going to have something else interesting happened. However, I feel like the twist mechanic kind of threw my play group off their rhythm, since the narrative kind of had to stop in order to give them time to think of something that they could add to the narrative. This might just be a table issue, as some groups of players might be jumping to add details to the narrative, while others might be more used to looking to the Game Master for guidance.

The game has a lot of interesting set pieces and hints of lore built into its setting, but there’s more prep that I think might be required than I originally thought. There were moments where the freedom of the setting led players down paths that I hadn’t anticipated, and I had to quickly invent NPC’s and setting descriptions that I wasn’t prepared for. I’ve heard about this kind of problem described before about the family of improv-heavy games, of which PbtA and FitD are definitely members, but this was the first time that my sparse notes in terms of locations and NPCs felt like they really bit me in the behind.

Overall my experience with Wildsea was a bit more stilted than I would have liked, but I don’t think I need to lay all of our problems at the game’s feet. Our game group had a big lull in between sessions, and we had to meet in a format that meant that communication was sometimes slowed down or difficult. I definitely want to give this game another go in the future, hopefully with a group that can all meet in the same place, and hopefully with less gaps in between sessions. The biggest takeaway that I have from this game is that Game Masters should definitely look through all of their players’ character sheets and take note of what each character is geared up for and what the players have indicated is interesting to their character arc, because I think the game will connect with your players more if you have designed threats or set-pieces that speak to those abilities.

#tabletop games #indie ttrpgs #indie ttrpg #mint speaks #mint plays games #the wildsea

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 11 months

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Birthday Kissies - James Wilson x peds!reader

description - a spanner is thrown into the works of the special birthday James has been planning for y/n for months. A spanner which happens to be a fever of 109.

word count - 1.9k

requested - yes

authors note - I'm literally living my dreams through these fanfictions! I know its not ambiguous but a lot of the little specifics I mention are stuff I'd love for someone to do on my birthday that I used so I could come up with a good visual. Please do let me know if I can make my writings more accessible to people in anyway!

Masterlist

Wilson giddily skipped through the hospital. He’d been on the edge of his seat all day. Tomorrow was the most important day in his calendar. January 4th, his loves birthday.

The hospital was still adorned in Christmas decorations, but this didn’t faze him. In his mind, December 25th was inferior in comparison to the magnificence of her birthday. He remembered the first birthday they’d shared together which happened to be his.

She’d woken him up with homemade pancakes, but they weren’t as delicious as the many kisses shed pecked onto his face. He didn’t hear anything she’d said as he looked on at the beauty who was practically straddling him wearing a plastic tiara and placing a birthday crown on his own head. But that may have also been caused by the party horn she’d woken him up with. Despite her being a doctor, she hadn’t thought through the ramifications of a party horn placed directly against someone’s ear. She’d happily thrown at him all his presents which had been carefully wrapped and decorated with ribbons and bows. All the gifts had a specific theme of blue and white with ‘doctor’ inspired wrapping paper. It was clearly meant for a child but her giddy face when she proudly showed them off won him over. His favourite gift had been an original film poster of ‘Dead Poets Society’.

“I remember you saying how much that film meant to you. I also already bought a frame for it so we can hang it up in your office tomorrow. If you want to.” She exclaimed whilst bouncing on the bed.

“Birthdays are important.” She’d said as they lay intertwined with their matching crowns, scoffing down the pancakes. “On that day, I can show the most important people in my life how much I love them.” She grabbed his cheeks and squished them together.

“Did your birthdays look half as good as this when you were a kid.” She faltered.

“Not really. No one should ever feel like that on their special day, so I try to make sure no one ever does.”

He’d collected the last card from her patients. The first thing he’d thought of as a gift for her was to ask all the children under her care to make something for her special day. There were a lot of cards, all decorated with glitter and ribbons. He’d specifically told Sadie she could make y/n a birthday crown. Sadie had been here for three years on and off and had a special relationship with y/n. It was only fitting she should get the honour of making the crown. It seemed to Wilson that as soon as you mentioned the name y/n y/l/n, children, parents, and doctors would come flooding, offering their help in any capacity. Every patients room he had gone into he was given two things: a handmade card from the kids and a beautifully wrapped present from the parents. Wilson smiled at this; no other doctor was as loved as she was, not even himself.

He was making his way back to his office, his elaborate plan was coming together. He sat down at his desk and went over the checklist he’d made for her surprise. 5 bouquets of pink roses, 3 bouquets of yellow tulips, chocolates, and macaroons from a patisserie in Paris they had visited on their anniversary, and about 100 pink and white balloons he was going to fill their apartment with. He’d already gone out shopping early this morning to get the ingredients to make her favourite meal and dessert. The icing on the cake, as it were, was the three layered chocolate cake decorated in white chocolate frosting, adorned with chocolate dipped strawberries. He’d had it ordered especially months ago and it was arriving tomorrow morning. After making sure everything was ordered and in place he relaxed into his chair. Closing his laptop, he picked up the shopping bag at his feet. He pulled out the stuffed pink bear he’d made for her, adorned in its little doctors outfit. Looking at it now, he felt silly. Surely, she’d be wanting jewellery or something like that. He’d thought it was cute at the time but now he felt embarrassed at his choice of gift.

The door to his office was ripped open. This caused Wilson to scramble to hide the bear back in the bag. House limped in.

“Please tell me you have actually bought y/n/n a present. You are not going to ruin her special day.”

“No, I have not.”

“I will give you the money, will you please jus—”

“I think you have more important things to worry about. Room 203.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

The two stood on the precipice of the room and watched the sniffling, whimpering, and writhing frame of y/n. She sloshed about on the bed, kicking away her blankets like a petulant child.

“Ah the true test of true love, a bad case of the flu. Enjoy lover boy.” House patted Wilson on the back and made to leave.

“Wait, what are you doing?”

“Getting as far away as possible. She can insult me enough when she’s in perfect health, I don’t want to see how severe it gets with a temperature of 109.” House quickly sprinted down the corridor as fast as his cane could take him. Wilson rolled his eyes at his friends fear of his utter sweetheart. This wasn’t his first rodeo with a sick y/n. All she wanted was love and attention. He was always happy to help.

The patient noticed the tall frame of her boyfriend in the door. She turned over towards him, bunching up her blankets into her body.

“Jamsey. I’m sick.”

“I know, darling.” He made his way over, giggling at the innocent tone of her voice. She squished herself further into the bed to make room for him to join her. “But we’re gonna get you better okay.” He placed his arm around her, and she cuddled into his side.

“But what about my patients.”

“Hey, none of that now. My main priority is you.” He smiled softly at how her eyes couldn’t even stay open till the end of the sentence. Her body was fighting so hard to stay awake, but it needed to stop. Even without the flu she’d been overworking herself recently. Her body needed the rest.

“I’m just sad you’re going to be feeling like this on your birthday.” Her eyes still hadn’t opened but her body had involuntarily snuggled into his side more, making their embrace tighter.

“As long as you’re with me, it’ll be perfect.” She slurred as sleep overtook her. “You are going to stay right?” her last thought before she was dragged further into her snooze.

He planted a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”

-x-x-x-x-x-

*the next morning*

Wilson knocked on room 203. Y/n was now sat up and tucking into the tea and toast she’d been given for breakfast. Despite how much her eyes lit up when they landed on James, her face still looked sunken.

“Good morning baby, how are you feeling?”

“A bit better.” She’d softly uttered as he made his way over to her. She attempted to straighten out her messy hair and wipe away the sleep from her eyes. She fixed her gown, not wanting him to see her as any less than perfect. But the joke was on her as he already saw her as the most beautiful girl in the world.

“I felt so guilty in our bed, leaving you here alone.” He had begged her to let him stay the night with her, even setting up a faux bed in the form of four hospital chairs and a pillow. But she had ordered him to go home and sleep in a proper bed, threatening him with no sex for a month. It was bad enough he would have had a bad back from the chairs, but he had already worked a 10 hour shift that day, she knew he deserved a good night’s sleep.

“Well, you’re here now, and I’m so happy.” She softly kissed his cheek with her arms wrapped around his neck. He turned in her arms, aiming for her lips but she stopped him with her hand.

“Nooooo, I’m sick.” He shrugged away her hand and leant in.

“We’ll be sick together then.” Their lips locked. They each tried to suck out the others soul and their tongues clashed for dominance with y/n eventually relenting. The 12 hours between when James had left last night and now had been excruciating for the pair.

They eventually came apart for air. “I nearly forgot.”

He left her room and returned with a trolley filled with delicately wrapped pink gifts, each one adorned with a massive white ribbon. The trolley was also covered with pink and white balloons tied to each handle. She squealed at this display, practically jumping up and down on the bed, having to be calmed down by James who soothed her cheers with a kiss to the cheek.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

“This is amazing, James. Thank you!” she grabbed the sides of his face to bring him down into a passionate kiss, whilst continuing to utter how much she loves him.

He sat with her on her bed as she thumbed through all the cards from her patients. Each one received a sunny smile and some even elicited a few tears. She proudly wore the crown from Sadie which she compared to something off of a fashion show. All 29 of the gifts were eagerly ripped open. In between each one, she scolded him for buying her too much, but this juxtaposed how furiously she tore into each new gift. He had to remind her that a lot were from colleagues and parents, which warmed her heart.

They reached the end, and she was surrounded by wrapping paper and ribbon.

“There is one more.” He pulled out the bear, hidden at the bottom of the trolley. He began fidgeting with it in his lap, suddenly feeling small in the face of all the previous gifts. “It’s silly but I thought it was cute and I thought you might like it and--”

“YOU GOT ME A TEDDY BEAR!” she threw her arms around him at breakneck pace. When she pulled back, she carefully took the bear from his arms and squeezed it into her chest. She turned it around and giggled at the doctors outfit it was dressed in. “I love it so much! It’s just like the one on your shelf!”

He shuffled so he was sat behind her and took her into his arms. They both gazed down lovingly at the bear. “She’s gonna be our baby. I’ll be her mummy and you can be her daddy and she’s gonna come to work with mummy every day.” She clasped the bear against her chest once again. Wilson sighed at the mess around her hospital room. He began to collect a few fallen pieces of wrapping paper preparing to throw them away. His eyes glanced towards the closed door and saw a pink envelope partially stuck under the door. He picked it up and saw ‘Mrs Wilson’ scribbled across the front. He smiled knowing the one person who called y/n that.

“One more. From House.” He handed her over the envelope. She opened it up and audibly gasped.

“What is it?”

“HE GOT US A SKIING TRIP!” James’ ears were covered in seconds to prevent his ears from being permanently damaged, once again. As she went on and on about the trip which had all been paid for by House, he joined her on the bed and gradually encouraged her to lie down with him, knowing how much her body needed the rest. He gathered her up in his arms and let her tire herself out so she could then slump into his arms and drift off to sleep.

#dr james wilson #dr james wilson x reader #house md #james wilson #dr james wilson x peds!reader #house x wilson #dr house #dr house x reader #house x reader #james wilson x peds!reader #house x cameron #house x cuddy #robert sean leonard #robert sean leonard x reader #robert sean leonard imagine #james wilson imagine #house md imagines

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woefully-undercaffeinated · 6 months

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What to do when something illegal happens at work

When your boss does something illegal at work, it's common to freeze up because you're not sure what to do. Here are a few tips for how to handle those situations during and after:

While it is happening:

Keep yourself safe. In the moment, your first priority is always to keep yourself and others from physical harm and out of danger as much as possible. If any other advice I give you conflicts with that, your safety takes priority.

Make sure you know where you are. If you think your safety might be at risk, getting your bearings can be critically important. Take note of potential exit routes, hazards, the flow of traffic (both vehicle and foot traffic), cameras, and any safe areas you know of. Later, knowledge of your exact location may be very important in reconstructing events.

Check the time. Knowing exactly when something happened, and how long it took, will be extremely valuable.

Look around for witnesses, and try to bring some over if possible. Witnesses will both reduce the likelihood of more outrageous behavior and help you to take action afterwards. Do your best to remember who was there.

Say "please let me finish" every time you're interrupted, and count the number of times it happened. Bullies love to interrupt people at the first sign of disagreement, and then later they'll claim that nobody disagreed with them when instead nobody could get in a word edgewise. Saying "please let me finish" calls out the fact that they were interrupting, and a count of the times you were interrupted will help you protect yourself from being misinterpreted later.

Avoid agreeing to anything or signing anything if possible. You have the right to review any document that you're asked to sign, which usually includes taking the document and having it examined by an attorney. If you're being threatened with serious consequences if you don't sign immediately, write "signed under duress". If they're asking for a verbal agreement, try to get them to accept a "let me think about it/check my to-do list/etc" rather than a hard "yes". Even if the thing you'd be agreeing to is something you're okay with, it's still important not to agree to things when you don't feel like you're allowed to say "no"; in stressful situations, our judgment can be seriously compromised, and allowing yourself to be bullied into saying "yes" will set a bad precedent for further interactions.

After it's over, as soon as you're in a safe place:

Complete the WTWFU checklist

Send a follow-up email summarizing your understanding of what was communicated. It can be as simple as "just to ensure we understood each other, what I got was that you were telling me/us that [we'll be disciplined if we discuss our wages/contacting a union is a fireable offense/our pay will be docked if anyone submits a complaint to OSHA/etc], is that correct?". If there is information that protects you, such as a health condition or pregnancy you need accommodation for or a prior agreement that is being violated, include it in your email even if the company already knows. CC HR and any coworkers who were present and BCC your personal email*. Forward any responses to your personal email as well*.

Rescind any agreements you made. Either in the same email as step #2 or in a separate email, depending on what you think is appropriate, say "I didn't feel like I could safely say 'no' in that situation, so I'd like to rescind my earlier agreement until I've had some time to reconsider." If it's something you think you'd have otherwise agreed to, try to offer a time frame for an actual decision. CC HR and BCC your personal email*.

Collect any evidence you can, and make note of any evidence that exists but isn't accessible to you. This includes emails about the issue, any photos that were already taken or that you can safely and legally take,

If something illegal was done or hinted at, contact the applicable regulatory agency as soon as possible with all of the information above.

Consider arranging a consult with an employment law attorney -- consults aren't the same as retainers, they're considerably cheaper (or sometimes free, depending on your income and the possibility of a lawsuit) and can either turn into ongoing representation or just be a one-time service.

* Don't include information that you have a legitimate duty to safeguard, such as customer data, protected health information, or non-public market-affecting information. This does not include any information pertaining to working conditions, your compensation, regulatory compliance, or workplace safety -- the company isn't allowed to demand that you keep those a secret. Either try to get the point across without including the specific information that's being safeguarded, or censor it by replacing it with two underscores per replacement with generic descreptors as necessary (i.e. 'I have safety concerns about the release of our secret robotics project on January 10' becomes 'I have safety concerns about the release of our __[project]__ on __[date]__').

#employment law #worker rights #labor law #labor rights #you boss doesnt want you to read this

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beardedmrbean · 3 months

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On Jan. 27, Dutch blogger Lauren Hoeve passed away through assisted suicide. After enduring years of chronic fatigue syndrome (also known as myalgic encephalomyelitis, ME/CFS), autism, ADHD, and anxiety, she, at the young age of 28, chose euthanasia to escape a life dominated by pain.

As a Canadian, I am familiar with the Medical Assistance in Dying (MAID) program, which has allowed eligible adults to request assisted death services since the federal legislation passed in June 2016. As of this year, the MAID program was also set to allow those with mental illness to choose euthanasia.

However, a recent development on Feb. 1 proposed legislation to temporarily exclude individuals with a sole underlying medical condition of mental illness until 2027.

This legislation is currently under review by Parliament, and unless it passes, the exclusion will be lifted on March 17, 2024. This means individuals struggling solely with mental health issues may become eligible for assisted death.

A confession: Initially, I welcomed the idea of assisted dying, believing it could be a humane choice for those at the late stages of irreversible illnesses to make choices on their own behalf. However, my growing concern lies in the application of MAID by the Canadian government.

I am now skeptical about the true autonomy of individuals opting for assisted death, especially in a country with socialized health care. The risk of medical practitioners recommending MAID as a cost-cutting measure to alleviate strain on the health care system is unsettling, as suggested by a 2020 analysis estimating potential annual savings of save $66 million annually in health care costs.

Individuals considering MAID are already vulnerable due to physical or mental suffering, making them susceptible to external pressures. Reflecting on my own past struggles, I recognize the unpredictability of emotions and circumstances. What seems unbearable one day may change with time and support—yet the choice to end life is a permanent one.

Like many others, I've lived with chronic pain for much of my life. I can recall many days where I've wondered what the point was of continuing to suffer. And then, a miracle drug had come along. Will it continue to work indefinitely? I don't know, but for now, I feel like I have my life back.

And that's the thing, there's an unpredictable nature to health care. What one experiences one day, can change tomorrow.

There are exceptions. I recall reading about Canadian journalist John Scully, an 82-year-old man dealing with severe depression. He was hospitalized many times, had 19 treatments with electroconvulsive therapy (ECT), and takes up to 30 pills a day to manage his chronic pain and health issue. Shouldn't he have a choice?

And yet, I was struck by something in the statement put out by Lauren Hoeve's parents. "Millions of people are affect by ME/CFS, with no established treatment pathways and no cure," they wrote on X on Feb. 2. "Why is their suffering acknowledged enough for euthanasia but not enough to fund clinical research?"

And herein lies the rub. Why is euthanasia offered as a viable solution to a potentially non-permanent problem, when other options are possible?

Mental health services in Canada (and elsewhere) are scarce. Psychologists are expensive and out of reach for many. Psychiatric services are free of charge, but the wait lists are even longer than those for psychologists and few people can get access. The wait to get help is usually over a year. Family physicians just end up prescribing medications based on a checklist and see what sticks.

Those living with chronic pain and disability have been put at the front of the line for MAID. Readily being presented with assisted dying services—instead of treatments or alternatives—can create a sense of being undervalued or marginalized. It implies that end-of-life choices should be prioritized over efforts to provide care, support, or treatments that could improve one's quality of life or extend their lifespan.

Moreover, individuals feeling like a burden on their families may be easily swayed.

I've heard of least one case where a woman decided to end her life because she couldn't get access to opioids for pain management. And while opioids are far from ideal, when it's a choice between life and death—perhaps her doctors should have considered giving her another chance at life.

For me, the troubling part of all of this is that instead of enhancing life-staining systems—whether for people with mental health concerns, chronic pain, or disabilities—our government is opting for permanent exit plans that alleviate strain on the health care system, instead of improving it.

People deserve to have choices—and the choice to end their life should only be considered once every other possible option has been exhausted.

An estimated 836,000 to 2.5 million Americans and more than 580,000 Canadians suffer from ME/CFS. Their lives are inherently valuable.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.

#nunyas news

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 7 months

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“Let You Off With A Warning” - Beau Arlen x Reader

Part of the “Guardian of the Gulch” Series

Rating Teen

Beau Arlen x Reader (eventually)

Tags: Fluff and Flirting

Word Count: 1900

There's a new sheriff in town. And he just so happens to have parked his RV in your campgrounds. What's a park ranger to do with all that Texas charm strutting around on a fine pair of bow legs?

I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Food as Bonding" square.

Image created in Canva (credit for photo used: ABC/Michael Moriatis)

Corey’s eyes are ready to roll right out of his eye sockets. He slumps over the counter, office phone pressed tight to his ear.

“Absolutely.” He enunciates every syllable. “Yes. I can see how that would be quite an intrusion.” Those stubby fingers snap to get your attention.

You’re finishing up your checklist after vehicle patrol. When did fireworks become an every night of the week event for days prior to the Fourth? The annoyance can become dangerous in Black Sandy State Park. Especially when bored kids and drunk adults get it in their heads to light things on fire on campgrounds during drought conditions. You’re figuring that’s what the call’s about. Things had been relatively quiet so far that night.

You had hoped they were going to stay that way. All you wanted to do was clock out in the next five minutes, get home, and catch up on “The Bachelor” episodes filling up space on your DVR.

“We’ll have someone head over and take care of it.” Corey smiles at you.

You groan back at your Park Manager. You’re the only other someone.

You head to the campsite that phoned the office first. It’s a husband and wife with a large brood. They’ve got every creature comfort under the sun - or in this case, moonlight - in their parcel paradise by Hauser Lake. The Class A motorhome makes you wonder what kind of house they left behind.

The wife is the one running her mouth at you even though the husband had called to lodge the complaint. You try to wrap your head around the noise she’s harping about and how it’s possibly bothering the four kids. All of the children are laser-focused on handheld devices. They don’t even look up when mom asks them to corroborate how annoying the sound from their neighbor is.

If you had your way, you’d block all WiFi access in every part of Black Sandy.

After the requisite pleasantries, you turn and trudge through the shadows to the lodger who’ll be getting a talking to. Though not the talk Mrs. Devonshire is expecting.

You adjust the cap on your head. The voice emerging from one solitary speaker is muffled and mono on your approach. The silver Airstream is curvy and sleek. A standout that manages to sparkle even in the dark.

Its owner sits in a lawn chair. He’s watching some old time western projected onto a white sheet tautly stretched between two poles.

His eyes have cottoned on to your movement seconds ago, you're sure of it. His day job requires him to be hyper aware of his surroundings at all times.

“To what do I owe the honor of a house call this late, Ranger? Raccoon invasion? Dump station on the fritz?” He stands to greet you. An open beer dangles from his fingertips.

“Nothing that exciting, Sheriff.” The Bachelor’s got nothing on this specimen. The handful of times you’ve crossed paths, you are never quite prepared to be in this man’s presence.

“I’m not on duty. Call me Beau, remember?” He grins to confirm the allowance of such informality.

You sigh. “Afraid I am on duty. And have to request a favor.”

He nods and tilts his head over to the Devonshires. “Let me guess? I’ve done something to upset Linda.”

You raise an eyebrow. “How’d you know?”

“I had her figured out as soon as she waltzed over to introduce herself bright and early this morning before I left for work.” His lids widen in emphasis. “Ten minutes of my life I’ll never get back. Is she about to release the kraken?”

You chuckle. “Just turn down the volume on your movie a smidge, please.” You pinch two fingers together. “We’ve never had a complaint about you before, so no worries. We’ll let you off with a verbal warning this time.” You grin.

He’s amused at that. “Mighty kind of ya. Well, let me do it right in front of you, so you can put it down in your incident report.” He strolls over to the speaker and dials down the knob. “Perpetrator immediately complied with the request.” He announces, a little on the loud side. “In case Linda’s watching.”

You stifle a laugh. “I’m guessing she doesn’t know you’re the Sheriff of Lewis and Clark County?”

He shakes his head. “How would she? I don’t think I got five words in this morning.” He lifts the lid of a green cooler with the toe of his cowboy boot, bends down and pulls out another beer bottle. He has a bounce in his step on his way back to you. “But, you know, I don’t reckon it would’ve even mattered. She still would’ve had Larry make the call.”

“How’d you know Larry called?”

He shrugs and offers you the beer. “Lucky guess.”

You wave a hand. “On duty, remember?”

A tip of his wrist has him checking his watch. “You getting paid time and a half? It’s almost nine.”

You smile at how well he catalogs information and smooth talks with all that easy Texas charm. By your second run-in with him he’d found out your work schedule and how important it was for you to stick to it. He even had you fess up, somehow, to your penchant for reality TV, especially shows of the love competition variety. You grab the beer and twist off the top. The beer tingles down your throat in a welcome swallow. “It’s all your fault I’m still here.”

“Well, then, let me make it up to you. Sit a spell.” Before you can register, he’s snapped open another lawn chair near his own. He presents it with a flourish.

“I guess I should hang around for a bit. Make sure you don’t get yourself in more trouble.” The chair settles into the dirt under your weight.

“Not the first time it’s been suggested I need a chaperone.” He sits alongside you.

You nod at the movie. “What’re you watching?”

He stares at you, disheartened. “Really?”

“I don’t do westerns.”

“Pale Rider. Clint Eastwood. It’s a classic.” His head shakes. “Kids today.”

You scoff. “Kid?”

“You can’t be more than 25,” he states with complete earnestness.

“You don’t need to butter me up, Beau. I already said you’d get off on a warning.”

“How about some bribery then, just to ensure nothing ends up on my permanent record.” He nudges a bowl on the tiny circular table in your direction.

It’s hard to make out the contents. You squint. Light from the projector brightens up the scene for a moment. “Oh, you found them.” You pull out a cherry and tug at the fruity flesh between your teeth to release the stem.

“I did. Saw ‘em at a farmer’s market in town. You were right. Flathead cherries are amazing.”

“Hm.” You concur and indulge in the sweetness. “So good.”

Beau snickers. “You two need some alone time?”

“So good,” you repeat. “First pick of the season reminds you of what you’ve been missing all year.”

He nods and grabs a couple for himself. “That’s what the guy at the stand was spoutin’.”

Beau Arlen has only been the sheriff for a few weeks. But you agree with the assessment that most have of him. He’s an affable and acceptable substitute while Walter Tubb recuperates. Arlen’s smart and ingratiates himself easily with everyone in the county. He knows those that keep things running in Helena by their first names already. And as you are someone that secures and protects a part of state land in the county under his jurisdiction– well, you get to share a beer and some cherries with him tonight.

The conversation is light and dances about with no rhyme or reason.

“What’s your favorite meal to eat back home?” He asks with great interest. With an angling of his head upward, he shoots a cherry pit out of his mouth like a mini cannonball into the shadows. You think he’s intentionally aiming in the direction of the Devonshires. “Like, the kind that needs your undivided attention?”

“Easy. Grilled salmon and roasted asparagus with mashed potatoes.”

Beau takes a swig. “Found anything comparable here?”

“Not yet. Doubtful it’ll be anything close to what I could get back home in Oregon.” You course correct and try not to be too hard on the place you’ve called home for the past two years. “But, you can fish a decent dinner out on the lake.” You thumb at the water behind the trailer. “The trout and perch are tasty.”

“I haven’t gotten around to fishing in Hauser yet.” He sighs.

“Seems like every time I turn on the local news, something major is going on in the area. Most of it ain’t good.”

“Tell me about it. I thought this would be a slow drip favor of a job for a friend. I was saying to Hoyt today that a dam holding back all the crime must’ve burst as soon as I got here.”

You make a note to give Jenny Hoyt a call. You haven’t hung out with her or Cassie in a bit. It’s time to catch up and get all the details you can about the new sheriff in town. “Well, what crime has Helena committed when it comes to your favorite meal back home?”

“Oh.” Beau’s lips flap as he releases air from his lungs. “Haven’t found a good T-bone yet. Tried grilling a couple myself but I don’t know, just not the same. What I wouldn’t do for a melt in your mouth steak with some buttered corn on the cob and a baked potato topped with sour cream and chives.” He licks his lips with a far away stare.

You grin at how fond his expression is over the memory. You kind of wish he’d stare at you like that for even a second.

Some soft pops ricochet in the night air. You both sit up at the sound.

“Fireworks.” Beau states. You nod and then wait to see if anything can be seen in the distance lighting up the sky. It quiets again after some seconds. “You better get home before you can never leave,” Beau decides. You open your mouth to protest. He only shakes his head and cuts you off. “Hey, if Corey’s got something to say about it, just tell him the sheriff can pinch hit if he needs backup.”

You smile. “Not sure if that’ll fly coming from me.”

“Then you tell him to call me if he needs confirmation.” He nods and this time the smile he gives you is fond and, dare you think it, a bit flirty. “Besides, you’ve got a bachelor waiting for you at home, doncha?”

The laugh bubbles out of you. “I doubt he’ll be any better company.” You purse your lips at the confession that gave more of your thoughts away than intended.

He stills at the compliment and takes it in for a long beat. The smile that curls up is soft and sweet. “Thank you.”

“Thank you.” You rise and leave the half drunk beer on the table.

Beau rises as well, always the gentleman.

“Have a good night.” You hurry out the words to match your steps.

You don’t dare turn to look back at the sheriff. You can’t stop grinning like a giddy school girl.

His voice, low and warm in the summer night, draws out, “You have a good night as well.” He adds, “Ranger.”

#jacklesversebingo23 #beau arlen x reader #fanfic #fluff #flirting

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copperbadge · 2 years

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Hi! I suspect this question may sound sarcastic or asshole-ish, but I promise it's sincere. And I realize that you're not a doctor, so feel free to ignore or tell me to DMOR, but you seem to have looked into this pretty extensively, so I thought you might have some thoughts. If you take ADHD meds and they work (that is, you don't feel any different but you can actually Do Things, which maybe gives you really positive feelings, which is not how you usually feel about yourself), how do you know that it's actually ADHD and not that normally you're just lazy, but now you took meth and you're hyper and euphoric or whatever it is that it does to non-ADHD people? Asking for a friend.

I...hm, layers to this one. First, thank you for offering a tone note because on the one hand, without it I definitely would have felt a bit hostile, but on the other hand it's very difficult to ask a question like this without sounding like you're trying to get a rise, when you really are just trying to get information. I'd struggle with that too. So thank you! I believe you are in earnest :)

I'm going to try to dig through this by levels rather than go through the question chronologically, that might cause the least amount of confusion and crosstalk. This is going to get long and quite rough and I’m going to address a lot of tender subjects including drug use, addiction, and self-esteem issues, so please read with care for yourselves.

(I’ve tried to add in bolded topic headers so if you have ADHD and get bored of reading about one thing you can skip to the next!)

So to start with -- and this isn’t particularly satisfying as an answer, but well...I know I have ADHD because I’ve been evaluated for it, twice now, and the doctors said I did.

I fit a lot of the classic symptoms on the usual checklists, and while I’m smart enough to game those checklists, I tried to answer as honestly as I could. I wasn’t especially interested in getting Adderall for its intoxicant properties, since I’ve got plenty of access to other, arguably much easier to obtain intoxicants. I also, because I know myself to be someone who enjoys gaming tests for the game’s sake, made sure that at least one of the evaluations had cognitive tests that were harder to fuck with, like tangrams and memory tests and such. On the very top level, I know I’m medicating my ADHD because the tests say I have ADHD.

But say we don’t trust the tests, or say I’m not as honest as I claim. On the next level down, but still quite near the surface, let's talk about "how do you know you're medicated and not high?"

I've been in several kinds of altered state -- concussed, runner's high, stoned on weed or opiates, drunk -- and very occasionally I’ve been around people on coke or meth, though I’ve never done those myself. It's usually not difficult to tell that you are not functional on a normal level. It's difficult to describe how to someone who hasn’t experienced it, but for me being in an altered state like that is very evident. The first time I got a runner's high I was absolutely terrified because I knew something was wrong with me cognitively, but not why it had happened. When I woke up concussed, I knew immediately that something was wrong, but it was all I could do to get dressed and go across the street to a clinic, I was so fucked up. If you’re in an altered state and suddenly need to do something complicated, you're aware you would very much like not to be in that state anymore.

I've described Adderall as being like the most functional high you've ever had, but there are differences. If I've had, say, a weed edible, I feel calmer and happier and I'm also aware I'm stupid. I'm impaired and I can tell that. If I've taken an Adderall, I feel calmer and happier but not nearly to the same level, and there's no impairment to my intellect. Part of the calm is that if I think of something I need to do, I can immediately get up and do it, competently -- or I can decide not to. I control my impulses and actions. With street meth -- which I should note is much, much more potent than a low-dose Adderall -- compulsive behavior and lack of control are much more evident. Even if you are getting a lot done while on meth, you’re not necessarily in control of what, or how many times you have to do it to get it right. I'm told this is also often how people who don't have ADHD react to Adderall -- they’re not efficient as much as they are manic, particularly at stronger doses, which is why a) a good test of “do I have ADHD” is “How do I react to Adderall” and b) they start you on a super low dose.

When my psychiatrist and I meet to discuss how the medication is going, he asks me stuff like, do you feel you're in control of yourself? Are you having hallucinations? Do you find yourself craving a dose even when you know it would be detrimental? Do you feel your performance at work has improved, remained the same, or fallen? Do you find yourself able to focus but not able to control what you focus on?

On Adderall I do feel like I'm in control of myself, I do better work, and while I'm still learning to aim that focus, I am capable of doing so. I don't take it after 1pm because I know that'll fuck up my sleep schedule, and truthfully I don't want to. The one time I’ve taken Adderall after 3pm was because I was going to an art museum and I wanted to see how that would alter my experience, being able to focus more fully on the art and the person I was going with. And while I did have a great time, I wouldn’t make a habit of either taking the drug late in the day or taking it purely so I could have An Experience while on it. It’s fine, it’s fun, but it’s not so much fun I’m willing to mess with my sleep over it.

I also have zero desire to drink (for the best, given alcohol and stimulants are a no-no) and a much decreased desire to get high. I don't need to self-medicate because I am actually medicated. I wasn't doing a shitload of self-medication before, but I was undoubtedly doing some, and more during the pandemic, and I can see how it would have become unhealthy had I continued. Do I still occasionally take an edible in the evening to unwind? Yes. Do I do it at the level I was doing it earlier this year? Fuck no. And I take half the amount I used to when I do, making sure I’m doing it well after any Adderall has worn off.

The question of "medicated or high" can still be a little difficult. What I said above is also what a lot of addicts say. They believe they are in control, they are better when they're on their intoxicant of choice, etc etc. "I can stop anytime I want" is like, the number one way to quietly tell someone that you, in fact, can't. Addiction's simplest definition is "loss of control over behavior" and addicts will do a lot to convince you that they haven't lost control over their behavior. (For more on this, Caustic Soda has a great episode about addiction in which Dr. Rob discusses how addiction and physical dependence differ.) All I can really say in response to this is that Adderall improves my quality of life in ways external to my emotional state -- yes, it helps emotionally, but that’s small potatoes compared to say, weed or opioids (opioids -- now there’s a drug I could get into trouble over) and weed’s way easier to get these days than Adderall. Weed does not, however, help me cook healthful meals and clean the bathroom. Adderall does.

So let's talk about the deepest part of this -- "How do you know you're not just lazy?"

Increasingly we are coming to an understanding of human behavior that informs us that laziness doesn't exist. What we think of as laziness can be caused by a number of factors: failure of executive function, fear of failure, exhaustion, avoidance of the unpleasant. Humans want to experience pleasure, it's a fairly strong primal drive, and we do not experience pleasure purely through inaction. If you should be doing something but aren't, that's not pleasurable, it’s stressful and boring. Lots of people will tell you “I fucking love to sleep, sleep is the best thing” and I’m sure they truly feel that way, but it’s not because they’re lazy, it’s because they have a sleep debt they’re banking against or paying back. There’s a lot of debate about laziness right now, but even as I refer to myself as one of the laziest people on the planet, I know laziness doesn’t exist in the way we conceive of it. When I call myself lazy, I’m using it as shorthand to say “I will find the most low-energy way to achieve something.” Because I am tired, because I have ADHD. (And also because I’m not twenty anymore.)

With exquisite timing, @thebibliosphere has very recently written an essay on this situation called “But You’re So Successful Without It”. Joy can’t take any of the medications available for ADHD, and the essay talks about what it feels like to have ADHD and to burn out because of it, which is where I was about to hit earlier this year. There is no way to call Joy lazy and absolutely no way to hear what she has to say and think that she would choose to go through what she has if she had an alternative. Nobody with any compassion would force her to.

And here’s how I know I am not actually lazy: like Joy, I want to be doing the thing. If I need to do dishes and laundry so I’m not eating with my hands and wearing smelly clothing, but I’m not doing them, that’s not laziness. I know that my life is less pleasurable, indeed very unpleasant, if I don’t do those things. If I’m still incapable of doing them, it’s not because I Don’t Wanna. It’s because I am too tired, because I don’t feel like I can deal with unpleasant sensations on top of forcing myself to do something, or because my executive function isn’t functioning. If you aren’t doing something you should be doing, there’s usually a reason beyond “I’m just lazy” and it’s helpful, in breaking out of the mindset of “I’m a lazy (and therefore bad) person”, to ask yourself why.

If there’s a reason you’re not doing it, even if that reason is simply “I’m so tired”, then you’re not lazy. You’re tired. If it’s because it’s unpleasant, then you’re not lazy, you’re avoiding pain. If you want to and just simply can’t, you’re dealing with a loss of executive function.

Sometimes there are nonmedical workarounds. I wear gloves to do the dishes, I bought a cordless stick vac so my back wouldn’t hurt because I was constantly holding the vacuum cord in one hand, I blast podcasts when I’m doing something boring so my mind is elsewhere. I used to run at 3am because at any other time I was too fucking tired and I hate being out in public around strangers.

But, well, the best workaround for wonky executive function for me is Adderall. It’s not for everyone, it’s not an option for some, but for me it is one more tool -- admittedly a pretty spectacular one -- to manage a difficult life.

All that said, the idea of being a Bad Person for Not Doing A Thing is a knot that it takes a long time to unpick. It is very freeing, and certainly less stressful, to both acknowledge that some things are beyond us, and receive help that brings them back into the realm of our ability to do. But it’s a process, and nobody can hustle anyone down that path faster than they are capable of going. So, all I can do is offer my personal experience.

Even if this shit does kill me eventually, I’d rather have thirty more years where I am the person I’ve been in the last two months, than have fifty more years where I am the person I was in 2021. And even if I eventually have to go off it, what I’ve learned will help me not to hurt myself for something beyond my control.

#sam has adhd #adderall #drug use #addiction #self-esteem

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andypantsx3 · 2 years

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Hi! I’m a HUGE fan of your writing— happy 2nd anniversary! If there are any ficlet slots still open, could I request Todoroki with “What? Does that feel good?” I can’t wait to check out all the prompts!

Hello my love!! You're so sweet, and thank you so much for the prompt!! To no one's surprise I have chosen your Shouto request as the first one to write lmao. I really hope you like it!!

Melt [Todoroki Shouto x Reader]

Word count: 1K Rating: SFW, some implications. Prompt: "What? Does that feel good?" Tags/Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship, Pro Hero AU

“It’s literally so hot out,” you complained, pulling the door closed behind you and immediately beelining for the couch.

In the still air of your apartment, things were already a bit cooler, but you could still feel the phantom burn of the sun on your skin, the sticky heat rising up from the pavement, the damp of sweat at the back of your neck. You’d made the mistake of scheduling an appointment in the middle of a heatwave, and you needed curative treatment, stat.

As you approached, a head of red and white hair poked up from over the back of the couch. One very handsome pro hero boyfriend, halfway through a day off, and only halfway awake, it looked like. Behind him, a book laid open on the coffee table next to a mug of cold tea.

He blinked blearily at you, long and slow like a cat, two mismatched eyes tracking you lazily across the apartment.

“Please hit me with the AC,” you begged, climbing over the arm of the couch to access Shouto faster. He shifted to make room for you, reaching out an arm to tug you in between his body and the back of the sofa. You sighed contentedly, burrowing into him, ready for the cool relief of his quirk.

Only, no cooling effect was immediately forthcoming.

You waited another moment, already imagining the blissful chill against your skin. The ice cold touch of Shouto’s right side, perfect, arctic, freezing—

Nothing.

Your head whipped up, your vision snagging on grey and blue, watching you with rapidly-awakening interest. Between the heat of Shouto’s body and the fabric of your couch, you could feel yourself beginning to rewarm uncomfortably, sweat prickling at your hairline again. You shifted.

“Uh, help me out here, dude,” you said, staring at him. Shouto just watched you back, only the most minute arch of a white brow indicating what he thought of being called dude.

“I believe you're forgetting something, love,” Shouto said finally, his voice low and warm, rough with the edges of sleep.

You quickly ran through a mental checklist of things you were supposed to do today, running back over the sleepy conversation you’d had with him this morning before you left. Nothing in particular stood out to you, as Shouto hadn’t employed very many words, instead communicating largely through an immovable arm banded across your body like steel, and a sleepy kiss of surrender when you finally managed to wiggle out from under him, which quickly grew more interested and threatened to make you late.

“I did?” you asked, eyes searching his handsome face for some clue.

Shouto stared back evenly. Slowly, you realized there was a glint in his eye that you recognized, and you suppressed a groan. It was the exact one he always got when he was up to some shit.

“Oh no.” You quickly attempted to squirm out of Shouto’s grip but he shifted more fully over you, trapping you firmly under kilos of heavy muscle. You were hot enough that you couldn’t even enjoy the normally delicious heat of him, the hard press of a body honed to perfection pressed all along you.

“I’m actually going to melt,” you pronounced as he settled against you. “You’re going to have a puddle for a girlfriend, is that what you want?”

Shouto looked deeply unphased by the idea of a puddle girlfriend. He did lean down, however, to look you in the face more fully. “Payment is required for my services,” he said blandly, though you could tell he was enjoying being a little shit.

You knew well enough that you were trapped, and you ran up the white flag almost immediately. “Anything. I will literally give you anything,” you said.

A pale brow arched. “Anything?” he said consideringly, almost to himself.

You nodded frantically. “Anything.”

Shouto thought a moment.

“I require a kiss,” he said lightly.

There was more, you knew there was more, but you leaned up to press your mouth against his anyway. You felt a tiny smile pull at his lips, but then a frigid wave of cold seeped obligingly across your skin and you sighed into his mouth, shuddering.

“What?” Shouto asked softly. “Does that feel good?”

“God, yes, yes," you groaned. You felt the corner of Shouto’s mouth twitch up even further, and you kissed him more firmly just to shut him up, though he’d not said anything. A cool hand passed down the length of your arm, leaving pebbled skin in his wake and you couldn’t help but squirm in delight.

“Fuck I love you,” you said.

Shouto’s kiss went a little more fervent in answer.

Eventually, you broke apart. Shouto’s right side flared again, another chilling wave of absolute perfection, and you sent up a silent thank you for the fact that Shouto both existed and had the most versatile quirk ever.

He spent a few moments just looking you over, watching you carefully in that attentive way he had. “Better, love?” he asked.

You nodded, settling easily into the exquisite cool of his body. “Better.”

“Good,” he said, another small smile pulling at his mouth. “Then we may discuss the second part of your payment.”

“Second part?” you echoed, watching him warily.

The glimmer in his mismatched eyes preceded his answer.

“I believe I was promised a puddle girlfriend,” he said and there was promise thick in his voice, in the pull of his smile. He looked like he knew exactly how to melt you into a puddle, and the stupidity of making a statement like that to a little shit like Shouto finally struck you.

You shivered.

And this time, it had nothing to do with his quirk.

#todoroki shouto x you #todoroki x you #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #shouto todoroki #garbage fest 2022 #garbage fest fics

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galaxyworm103 · 1 year

Text

Me looking at the checklist of Sexyman traits from the Sexypedia. Me looking at Scar:

Me: okay so thats

Capitalist (S6 with Concorp, S7 with literally everything. S8 with the Swaggon)

Clown (The Jangler. He had a jester hat ON HIS BASE)

Distinctive Voice (Need I say anything about this one?)

Quotable Catchphrases (I think his intro n outro count as this. And I know everybody recites them when watching his videos)

Duality (We all saw his S9 arc of being a themepark owner at day and then being an assassin at night. There were Jekyll and Hyde jokes made about this)

Eldritch (I don’t think Scar himself is Eldritch but he definitely has some kind of thing with the horrors. I mean he did just. Know they wouldn’t die in the Boatem Hole, because it was a Rift, and our Rift is pretty ominous. Also his associations with Grian helps)

Monster Features (Vex Scar exists. Need I say more)

Spectacles (He wore a monocle in S7 and sunglasses in S9)

Green (One of the colors associated with Scar is green. Partially due to it being a common color in his S8 fit, but also it was on his Vote for Scar posters from S7.)

[Partially] Mad Scientist (While not having the traditional mad scientist vibe, Scar did create the Resurrection Chamber after Demise in S6. Which would take a Wild Steve, change their body, and allow a decaying/dying Player to use that body as their own. Scar did this to himself and Impulse. That’s gotta count for something)

Obscured Face (the Vex Masks from S5 and S6)

Oncerlization (this is less about Scar getting his own subfandom this is more about Scar was ACTUALLY JUST the Onceler. Heck during S7 he had an alternate skin THAT WAS A GREEN SUIT!!! He was Literally the Onceler!!)

Perpetual Smiler (maybe not in fanart, but his MC skin is constantly smiling. And with how he talks, I could be convinced he is almost always smiling)

Power (mans canonically had access to Vex Magic. Also was a wizard twice. And one of his crystals actually seemed to be legit, given Cub’s reaction during S7 when getting one)

Purple (Due to S7 and Last Life, I’d say Scar is somewhat associated with purple)

Theme Song (while not his own theme song, the Sewer Cats song was made by Scar and remixed several times over. Also smth about Sewer Cats screams Sexyman to me. [EDIT] Super Fast Build Mode could also be his theme song, has no lyrics though which is why I didn’t initially count it)

Technically Antagonist (in S7, he played a corrupt politician who was screwing over an island. In 3rd Life, if you watch the Red Army’s POV, Scar is clearly the antagonist. He was also King Ren’s hired assassin. So)

Suit guy (Scar has several suit skins. He has the Convex suit, which is a black suit with diamond cufflings + tie. He has the Hermits in Black suit from A77. He has his Mayor suit from S7. He has his blue pinstripe suit from S7, as well as a green suit also from S7. His S8 outfit isn’t just a suit but it is suit enough to count, same with his Create Mod outfit)

Uniform (in S6 he has the General Angry Eyes uniform, and in S9 he is wearing a uniform while working on his theme park)

Long Coat/Cape/Robe (Both of his wizard outfits seem to be robes.)

There are more things on the checklist obviously, and I’m not entirely sure how to find the checklist cause fandom wiki (and thus sexypedia) sucks. But!! I just thought I’d say all of this to get it outta my brain

#Goodtimeswithscar #gtwscar #mcytblr #mcyt #mcyt sexyman contest #Mcytblr sexyman polls #sexyman polls #scarsweep #vote for scar!! Look at his Sexyman Resume #Wormtalks #worm talks #what am i doin w my life

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concerningwolves · 1 year

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Hi! I really like your blog and you have some much appreciated writing opinions to me. Apologies if this is not an allowed question but would you have any suggestions on what to keep in mind when writing a character with Russell Silver Syndrome? I have been doing my research but unfortunately as with many conditions most things I can find are based towards parents of children with and not adults who have it. Sorry if this is disruptive,Thank you for your lovely blog

oh man this question makes me so happy anon you have no idea. RSS/SRS representation!! Yes!!!

Writing a Character with Russell-Silver Syndrome/Silver-Russell Syndrome

Russell-Silver syndrome (RSS) is a rare condition associated with poor growth both before and after birth. Signs and symptoms vary and may include low birth weight, short stature, characteristic facial features, large head in relation to body size, body asymmetry, and feeding difficulties. Other features may include poor appetite, clinodactyly (curved finger), digestive system abnormalities, delayed development, and/or learning disabilities. The genetic causes of RSS are complex and relate to certain genes that control growth. — information on RSS from rarediseases.info.nih.gov

What this this answer will cover:

My experience with RSS and various thoughts on living with it

RSS in adults (+ adult characters)

Things to remember when writing any disabled character

Resources

My experiences with RSS and various thoughts about living with it

Russell-Silver syndrome has felt like a non-issue to me for a long time, but I'm realising now that that was only because so little was known about it. There was no molecular test when I was born so my diagnosis was purely clinical, (using "a checklist", as my dad always told me). Still, I've grown up under this... not quite a shadow, but definitely a pervasive awareness, that I had this rare disorder. It made every meeting with a new health professional that much more exhausting, because nobody ever knew what it was (and this is still a problem I have when explaining my health history to new doctors today). Either me or my parents would end up teaching doctors, and for a long time, we were working with outdated information because very little was available to us. Since I first got access to the internet in about year two at school, I've repeatedly sat down and searched for Russell-Silver Syndrome – and I've watched as, over the course of those last seventeen years or so, increasing amounts of information have appeared.

The increase in information is wonderful! It gives me hope! But growing up with this sense that there was something strange wrong with me was deeply alienating. I have a lot of grief about it.

What you say about not being able to find many sources for adults with the condition also raises a very important point: RSS literature focuses very heavily on symptoms in infants and children because that's when the condition is most "obvious" and/or when it has the most noticeable impact on a person's life. In other words, most information is written up to help parents cope with the extra needs that RSS kids have because of their condition. Infancy is also treated as a sort of golden period for clinical diagnosis, because individuals with RSS will usually lose the more obvious physical traits as they age.

Although RSS has a firm diagnostic criteria, it can look quite different between individuals. (I'd actually say it's fairly similar to autism in that respect). The term used for this is phenotype:

... a phenotype is all the physical characteristics and abnormalities found in an individual patient that are attributed specifically to RSS. Some individuals with RSS have many traits, thus a severe phenotype, while others have very few traits, thus a mild phenotype. → from the MAGIC Foundation's RSS page

I was an extremely ill baby. A lot of the medical problems I faced were linked to RSS, but I don't remember this on account of being, y'know, a baby. So, if you'd asked baby me for my opinion and if baby me were somehow able to answer and comprehend, I'd have said I had a severe phenotype. Now that I'm in my early twenties, I'm more inclined to say I have a mild phenotype – but as I'll explain, I'm no longer sure how true that is.

[Russell-Silver Syndrome in adults, basic disabled character guidelines, and resources below the cut]

Russell-Silver Syndrome in Adults (+ adult characters)

You can see in my childhood photographs the RSS-typical "triangular" face caused by a too-small jaw and large forehead, and slight facial asymmetry. I was chronically underweight until I got urgently referred to a dietician in like 2018, and my parents had an absolute nightmare of a time with feeding and making sure I ate enough when I was younger. I was still ordering toddler or child portions at restaurants well into into my early teen years because my appetite was so limited. I was also quite delayed in walking, speaking, and in development of motor skills, which are again typical of the condition.

Most of these traits don't affect me any more. The facial asymmetry and face shape are basically unnoticeable. I had surgery to remove four teeth, which fixed the overcrowding caused by the small jaw, and braces sorted out the rest. The dietician helped me learn how to make foods that were calorie-dense so I could get the nutrition I needed in smaller portions, and I'm now a good weight.m(The only part of the infant criteria that noticeably still affects my day-to-day life is the lack of appetite stuff, actually). I grew taller than the doctors expected me to, although I'm on the short-to-average end. I still have issues with balance and spatial awareness, but it's manageable. I've been in and out of physiotherapy and podiatry since I started walking. So, no, most of the RSS traits so common in infancy don't affect me now – but I'm still living with the condition, and it's taken a hell of a lot of treatment to get to where I am now. I honestly didn't realise how much until I started writing this answer!

Interestingly, the end of the MAGIC Foundation's RSS page has some information on RSS into adulthood, prefaced by this sentence: "Many people with Russell-Silver Syndrome (RSS) believe that once they reach their final adult height, their “RSS issues” are over." Other anecdotal evidence from other sources says the same thing. I would have once been inclined to agree, but my latest bout of reading up on RSS has taught me some interesting things. For example, there's overlap between autism and RSS! Or at least, according to the silverrussellsyndrome.org: "Some evidence indicates that there may be neurodevelopmental differences between the different genetic causes of SRS". Other sites state more explicitly that there's a link between RSS and Austism Spectrum Disorder, and research seems to still be ongoing, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

When I went to a chiropractor, he pointed out an issue with my jaw muscles and placement (? Couldn't quite hear what he said about that), and said this could be at least a partial cause for my chronic migraine. I explained about the RSS small jaw thing, and he nodded and said that made sense. Anecdotal evidence also now shows that many adults with RSS experience functional problems with muscles and their skeleton, including back pain – which sure goes a long way to explain the near-constant pain I get, as well as the fibromyalgia. Once again, research on this is ongoing.

There are also some health risks that adults with RSS are more likely to face. These include metabolic syndrome, hypertension, testicular cancer and gynaecological issues. It's stressed that not everyone with RSS will develop these; but some are more common and should be monitored for, as in the case of testicular cancer risk in RSS individuals whose testes didn't descend properly.

Your takeaway from this is that RSS in adult characters would be represented differently from the way it's described in children. Because the phenotype varies so much from person to person, my experiences are absolutely not universal. There may be people out there who've retained the asymmetry, for example, or those for whom the digestive/appetite issues are an even bigger problem. It would be so nice to see an adult character with RSS though, because it's not a condition that you outgrow – it's one where the condition seems to grow with you.

Things to remember when writing any disabled character

People are people: don't just think about the disability! We're more than that. Make sure your character has what any strong character should have (regardless of identity) – quirks, desires, motivation(s), some kind of conflict that affects the plot, their connection to other characters, etc.

Do your research: might feel slightly counter-intuitive to the first point, but it is important you know what you're writing about. I.e., does your character take medication or undergo treatment? Do they use accessibility aids of any kind? What accommodations do they need in day-to-day life? How does their disability impact said day-to-day life?

Reasonable limitations: it's okay to have a disabled character be, y'know, disabled. Sometimes they need help, or sometimes they'll need to assert boundaries or ask for accommodations. Sometimes they simply can't do something because they aren't able to. These are facts of a disabled existence. The crucial thing is to avoid framing the character consistently like a burden or a hindrance.

Inclusive worldbuilding: most relevant in SFF genres, but basically, if you're taking the time to do any degree of worldbuilding (be that a "real"-world urban fantasy environment or an entire invented continent with dragons), consider where disabled people fit in. Abled authors rarely, if ever, have to consider their place in the real world, so they rarely consider accommodations and accessibility features in their fantastical worlds. It's important to consider these things if you want to have well-rounded representation for disabled characters.

Listen to disabled voices: Ask disabled people, read/watch/listen to media created by disabled people, and remember that no one disability is a monolith. There may be a lot of nuance and debate within communities, but you can do your best by listening to the consensus and keeping an open-minded, good faith mindset.

This list ↑ is very much a TL;DR set of guidelines, but it's a good place to start. You'll find more information in the resources section below.

Resources:

In reference to your question, you might find my answer to this ask about including little-known conditions in fiction useful.

You'll find more discussions and guides in my disabled characters tag, my disabilities tag and my sensitivity & representation tag, as well as links to other resources.

The MAGIC Foundation – they have more in-site resources for RSS linked at the very bottom of the page

Silver Russell Syndrome Organisation – whole website dedicated to providing information about RSS

Diagnosis and Management of Silver–Russell Syndrome: First International Consensus Statement – This is a 2017 international consensus of research on RSS, condensed and simplified for general audiences. The original consensus is geared entirely towards medical professionals for treatment and research of the condition.

If anyone who has RSS wants to weigh in, please do!!

#russell-silver syndrome #silver-russell syndrome #disabled characters #writing advice #sensitivity & representation #disabilities #genetic disorders

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rainbow-nerdss · 9 months

Text

The Case of the Vanished Cookies

Written for @augustwritingchallenge day 24: Crime Buck&Chris, Buddie, 1.8k Read on AO3

“You know what this is?” Buck asks, gesturing to the scene before them. Chris furrows his brows, shaking his head. “This is a mystery.”

“We need to investigate!” Chris gasps, and matching grins spread across both of their faces.

They gather their suspects in the living room and stand together in front of the lineup. Bobby, Eddie, Hen, Chimney and Maddie stare back with expressions ranging from fond indulgence to general confusion.

Buck gives Chris the nod to begin.

"The crime is a twisted one, for sure! The cookies entered the oven at 1:52 pm today. Twelve minutes later, at 2:04, the timer rang on Buck’s phone. He left the room to get them, but by the time he reached the oven, it was empty, the cookies vanished!”

“Only the people in this room had access to the kitchen at the time of the crime,” Buck added in his conclusion. “As far as we can determine, any one of you could be the culprit.”

“Who wants to get questioned first?” Chris asks, grinning.

The suspects all exchange a look, until Eddie finally stands with a sigh and puts his hands on his hips. He’s smiling, bemused. “Alright, let’s get this over with.”

They lead him to Chris’s bedroom, sit him down at the desk which Buck has pulled to the middle of the room so they can sit on opposite sides with the lamp shining at Eddie.

“Is this really—”

“We’re asking the questions here, dad!”

Eddie holds his hands up and gestures for them to go right ahead.

“First question,” Chris takes the lead, “Is simple. Where were you at the time the crime was committed?”

Eddie bites his lower lip, glancing between the two of them. “I was with Buck.”

“The entire time?” Chris presses, and Eddie nods.

“I can confirm his alibi,” Buck shoots a subtle wink at Eddie out of Chris’s line of sight. “But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t an accomplice. Can you tell us, in your own words, how you feel about my chocolate chip cookies?”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “They’re great cookies, Buck. You know I love your cookies. That doesn’t mean I ate them straight out of the oven.”

“Hm,” Chris hums, unimpressed, marking a note on his checklist. “Still, you have a motive. The cookies are your favorite, and the timing of you pulling Buck aside…” he makes a face before pushing on. “The timing’s suspicious, is all. Almost like it was a distraction.”

Chris points an accusatory finger at Eddie, who just shakes his head. “I swear it was not a distraction, I just wanted to— I had to tell him something.”

Buck suppresses a smile behind his hand, then nods. Sure, Eddie had told him something, had made it very clear just how much he likes seeing Buck in his apron with flour dusted over his arms while he bakes. “We can come back to this later, once we establish the rest of the suspects’ stories,” Buck tells Chris. “Eddie, can you send in the next person?”

“I know you guys were kissing,” Chris grumbles, when Eddie’s gone and it’s just the two of them. Buck thinks of Eddie dragging him into the bathroom, of being pushed against the sink, Eddie’s words heated in his ear, of just how far beyond kissing they’d gotten, and he nods, turning pink.

“Yeah, sorry about that, bud.”

Chris huffs. “Well, if he’s willing to lie about that, then who knows how much of the rest of his story is a lie.”

Buck fights a laugh as the door opens and Maddie walks in. She sits down, hands crossed neatly in her lap.

Chris asks the same opening question, and she gives her story in a hushed tone. “I was with Howie, in here, putting Jee-Yun down for her nap.” She nods to the corner, where Jee is indeed still sleeping. “You couldn't have used somewhere else for the interviews?” she asks.

“Interrogations,” Buck corrects her, but he does shoot her an apologetic glance. If Jee wakes up cranky, he’ll definitely owe them a favor.

“So, will Chimney corra–corribo— corroborate this story?” Chris asks, turning a little pink as he stumbles over his words.

“Of course he will,” Maddie confirms. “Besides, I don’t even really like cookies — I’m more of a cake and pie girl.”

Buck and Chris exchange a look, and shrug, before telling Maddie to send Chim in. He does, in fact, confirm Maddie’s story, and even gives the same answer as her when asked what lullaby they sang.

“Hen next?” Buck checks, and Chris agrees.

“Send her in,” he instructs Chimney with a serious expression. Chimney snorts but stands to do as instructed, leaning over to check on Jee before he leaves the room.

“Their story is tight,” Buck says.

“They had time to work it out together if they needed to. I’m not ruling them out just yet.”

“Fair enough.”

Hen sits in the chair, staring at them with an expression clearly showing her lack of interest.

“I was in the living room. Obviously,” she says when Chris asks her.

She doesn’t elaborate, so Chris presses further. “Anyone who can verify that?”

“You were also in there, Christopher. We were talking the whole entire time.”

“Oh… right, yeah,” Chris concedes.

“Did you see anyone go in or out of the kitchen?” Buck asks, picking up the line of questioning when Chris looks embarrassed.

Hen shrugs, then sighs. “You aren’t letting me go until I give you something, are you?” she checks.

They shake their heads in unison.

“Fine. Maddie and Chim brought Jee-Yun down to nap, then the alarm went off and I saw you and Eddie disappear down to the bathroom together. That’s it.”

Something occurs to Buck, then.

“Was Bobby in the room with the two of you?” he asks.

Hen raises an eyebrow, and Chris’s eyes go wide. “No way,” he gasps.

“Send him in,” Buck instructs.

Hen stands, resigned, and shakes her head as she leaves the room. “Come out and talk to him yourselves,” she tells them through the open door.

Chris sniffs, then frowns. “Just a second,” he says, then points to the suspect’s chair. “Your turn, Buck.”

“What? Really?” he asks. “We’re co-detectives! I’m the Watson to your Holmes, the me to your Athena!”

Chris just points again, and Buck squirms his way around the desk to sit in the hot seat.

“What time did your alarm go off?” Chris asks.

“2:04pm. You already—”

“Just answer the questions, Buckley. Your alarm went off at 2:04pm, which I remember, because you were still in the living room.”

“Well, yeah, I stood up to get the cookies, and—”

“And then you were interrupted,” Chris finishes the sentence for him. “You were interrupted by Dad. I think I know what happened to the cookies.”

Buck is confused, caught off guard by the sudden change of direction.

“You should go wait with the rest of the suspects,” Chris informs him. Buck does as he’s told.

The others are all sitting together, talking and laughing, and they give Buck a strange look when he sits next to Eddie, wedging himself onto the arm of the couch and pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“I’m a suspect now, apparently,” he explains, pouting.

Eddie pulls him down for a proper kiss. “Welcome to the doghouse, babe.”

Shortly, Chris returns to the room, trailed by a sleepy Jee-Yun.

“This was a tangled web, for sure,” Chris says, beginning to pace back and forth. “It’s certainly not as cut and dry as I expected it to be.” He takes a seat on the coffee table, making eye contact with each person in the line-up.

“The timeline seems simple. At some point between the cookies entering the oven and Buck’s timer alerting us that they were done, they were stolen.”

“My own father has lied to me,” Chris announces to the room. Buck feels Eddie shift beside him, and rests an arm around his shoulder in silent support. “And My other dad, Buck, has betrayed me.”

Everyone turns to stare at them, except for Bobby, who just stands and walks out of the room. “What?” Buck asks.

“It was right there, the whole time. Right in front of us. The timeline was wrong. The cookies didn’t vanish before the timer went off, they were still in the oven!”

Chris points at Buck and Eddie. “You two disappeared to kiss in the bathroom after the timer! Which meant Buck was late to check on the cookies, which means, they weren’t stolen at all!”

As if on cue, Bobby emerges from the kitchen with a fresh tray of cookies.

“Oh, yeah, I smelled them burning,” Bobby says, “Tossed them in the trash because they were pretty much inedible,” he admits. “Threw on a new batch from the leftover dough in the fridge, figured you guys were too busy to notice.” Bobby sets the cookies down on the coffee table, which Chris sits on the floor next to and starts to dig in.

Buck just gapes at Bobby. “Why would you let us go through all of this if you knew all along?” he asks, scandalized.

“It was funny to watch,” Bobby shrugs.

Eddie starts to laugh at Buck’s expression, followed by Maddie, Chim, and then Hen and even Bobby.

“I can’t believe this,” Buck groans. Eddie grabs a cookie from the tray, still hot and gooey from the oven, and puts half of it in Buck’s mouth.

“You’re cute when you’re indignant,” he says, then eats the rest of the cookie himself. Buck finally dissolves into laughter along with the rest of them.

“Good detective work, Chris,” Buck holds his hand out for a high-five. “How’d you figure it out?”

Chris just snorts. “Smelled the burnt cookies when Hen opened the door, then the new fresh batch when I got out here. Pretty easy to figure out from there.”

#my fic #au gust 2023 #au gust fills #buddie #buddie fic #buck/eddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz

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