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fozmeadows · 6 months ago

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there is no ethical consumption under capitalism

Years ago now, I remember seeing the rape prevention advice so frequently given to young women - things like dressing sensibly, not going out late, never being alone, always watching your drink - reframed as meaning, essentially, "make sure he rapes the other girl." This struck a powerful chord with me, because it cuts right to the heart of the matter: that telling someone how to lower their own chances of victimhood doesn't stop perpetrators from existing. Instead, it treats the existence of perpetrators as a foregone conclusion, such that the only thing anyone can do is try, by their own actions, to be a less appealing or more difficult victim.

And the thing is, ever since the assassination of United Healthcare CEO Brian Thompson, I've kept on thinking about how, in this day and age, CEOs of big companies often have an equal or greater impact on the day to day lives of regular people than our elected officials, and yet we have almost no legal way to redress any grievances against them - even when their actions, as in the case of Thompson's stewardship of UHC, arguably see them perpetrating manslaughter at scale through tactics like claims denial. That this is a real, recurring thing that happens makes the American healthcare insurance industry a particularly pernicious example, but it's far from being the only one. Because the original premise of the free market - the idea that we effectively "vote" for or against businesses with our dollars, thereby causing them to sink or swim on their individual merits - is utterly broken, and has been for decades, assuming it was ever true at all. In this age of megacorporations and global supply chains, the vast majority of people are dependent on corporations for necessities such as gas, electricity, internet access, water, food, housing and medical care, which means the consumer base is, to all intents and purposes, a captive market. We might not have to buy a specific brand, but we have to buy a brand, and as businesses are constantly competing with one another to bring in profits, not just for the company and its workers, but for C-suites and shareholders - profits that increasingly come at the expense of workers and consumers alike - the greediest, most inhumane corporations set the financial yardstick against which all others are then, of necessity, measured. Which means that, while businesses are not obliged to be greedy and inhumane in order to exist, overwhelmingly, they become greedy and humane in order to compete, because capitalism encourages it, and because there are precious few legal restrictions to stop them from doing so. At the same time, a handful of megacorporations own so many market-dominating brands that, without both significant personal wealth and the time and resources to find viable alternatives, it's all but impossible to avoid them, while the ubiquity of the global supply chain means that, even if you can keep track of which company owns which brand, it's much, much harder to establish which suppliers provide the components that are used in the products bearing their labels. Consider, for instance, how many mainstream American brands are functionally run on sweatshop labour in other parts of the world: places where these big corporations have outsourced their workforce to skirt the already minimal labour and wage protections they'd be obliged to adhere to in the US, all to produce (say) electronics whose elevated sticker price passes a profit on to the company, but without resulting in higher wages for either the sweatshop workers overseas or the American employees selling the products in branded US stores.

When basically every major electronics corporation is engaged in similar business practices, there is no "vote" our money can bring that causes the industry itself to be better regulated - and as wealthy, powerful lobbyists from these industries continue to pay exorbitant sums of money to politicians to keep government regulation at a minimum, even our actual votes can do little to effect any sort of change. But even in those rare instances where new regulations are passed, for multinational corporations, laws passed in one country overwhelmingly don't prevent them from acting abusively overseas, exploiting more desperate populations and cash-poor governments to the same greedy, inhumane ends. And where the ultimate legal penalty for proven transgressions is, more often than not, a fine - which is to say, a fee; which is to say, an amount which, while astronomical by the standards of regular people, still frequently costs the company less than the profits earned through their unethical practices, and which is paid from corporate coffers rather than the bank accounts of the CEOs who made the decisions - big corporations are, in essence, free to act as badly as they can afford to; which is to say, very. Contrary to the promise of the free market, therefore, we as consumers cannot meaningfully "vote" with our dollars in a way that causes "good" businesses to rise to the top, because everything is too interconnected. Our choices under global capitalism are meaningless, because there is no other system we can financially support that stands in opposition to it, and while there are still small businesses and companies who try to operate ethically, both their comparative smallness and their interdependent reliance on the global supply chain means that, even if we feel better about our choices, we're not exerting any meaningful pressure on the system we're trying to change. Which means that, under the free market, trying to be an ethical consumer is functionally equivalent to a young woman dressing modestly, not going out alone and minding her drink at parties in order to avoid being raped. We're not preventing corporate predation or sending a message to corporate predators: we're just making sure they screw other worker, the other consumer, the other guy.

All of which is to say: while I'd prefer not to live in a world where shooting someone dead in the street is considered a valid means of redressing grievances, what the murder of Brian Thompson has shown is that, if you provide no meaningful recourse for justice against abusive, exploitative members of the 1%, then violence done to those people will have the feel of justice, because it fills the void left by the lack of consequences for their actions. It's the same reason why people had little sympathy for the jackass OceanGate CEO who killed himself in his imploding sub, or anyone whose yacht has been attacked by orcas - it's just intensified here, because where the OceanGate CEO was felled by hubris and the yachts were random casualties, whoever killed Thomspon did so deliberately, because of what he did. It was direct action against a man whose policies very arguably constituted manslaughter at scale; a crime which ought to be a crime, but which has, to date, been permitted under the law. And if the law wouldn't stop him, can anyone be surprised that someone might act outside the law in retaliation - or that regular people would cheer for them when they did?

#UHC #capitalism #brian thompson #luigi mangione #deny defend depose #late stage capitalism

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muletia · 6 months ago

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I know you mentioned on your OP+Megs+Ratchet ask adding in one or both of the scouts, but I can't help but imagine the sheer unparalleled comedy(ish) of the Autobots watching their entire high command (aka OP, Ratchet and Ultra Magnus, of all mecha) go gaga over some poor human. I think the other Autobots would be taking the human out for a spin if only so they can get a breather from everything. (I think Wheeljack would do it more/most often specifically because he knows it'll piss Ultra Magnus off.)

I also have the idea of Ultra Magnus almost being a stop gap for the other two's behavior for one reason or another (at least until he finds out that Megs is gunning for the human too).

Your ideas are excellent either way though👌

this is the post anon is referring to

never been a huge magnus fan in the show but I adore this concept!

To be honest, obsessed!Ultra Magnus would be the most exhausting to be around — and above all, the most tedious — of the entire Autobot Trinity, due to his pedantry and ironclad adherence to rules that weigh heavily on you as well. He’s intense, always keeping a vigilant optic on you, monitoring your every move to ensure you don’t accidentally hurt yourself. After all, the native life forms of this planet are especially fragile and must be protected 24/7, right? So, Ultra Magnus approaches Optimus for permission to take you under his care. To protect you from the Decepticons, of course. It’s not because his little fascination with you is slowly evolving into something deeper — a bond compelling him to stay close to you.

And Optimus agrees because he trusts Magnus and knows you’re in good hands, as he constantly worries about you himself.

The problem is that Magnus’s company is suffocating. Want to leave the base to get some fresh air, have a smoke, or just take a moment for yourself? The SIC of the Autobots is always a step behind, firmly reminding you that you can’t leave the hangar without Optimus’s permission. Don’t make him resort to bringing you back by force.

You can’t even hide in the base, find a quiet corner, and do your own thing, because one of them is always watching. Most often, it’s Ultra Magnus, who immediately gives you a lecture about staying within their line of sight—so you don’t accidentally get stepped on. It’s just an excuse, of course; Magnus simply has a stick so far up his aft that he can’t just admit he loves your company and feels strangely anxious and lost when you’re not around.

His microscopic knowledge of humans will also cause you countless headaches. All it takes is a sneeze, and Ultra Magnus is already dragging you to Ratchet, convinced you’re dying. And Ratchet takes your health matters very seriously, so you end up spending several minutes in the medbay, undergoing a thorough checkup. All the while, you are subjected to the medic’s grumbling about taking better care of yourself, under the intense gaze of the SIC of the Autobots, who’s tracking your every move and patiently waiting for the verdict.

The worst, however, is when you find yourself with the entire Holy Trinity in the base. None of them will ask you outright, “How was your day?” but everyone is dying to listen. This leads to a scenario where the Autobot elite huddles around you, hearts practically glowing in their optics, as you talk about workplace gossip or your current hobbies. The rest of the world ceases to exist for them. If the team wants their competent high command back, they have no choice but to pry them away from you.

Enter Wheeljack, who will occasionally whisk you away for private flying sessions in his ship, giving you a much-needed break. I think Arcee would take you for a ride a few times as well, unable to bear the sight of her superiors practically drooling over you. The long and detailed scolding they’ll receive from Magnus upon your return is another matter…

The SIC of the Autobots will immediately scoop you up into his servos before you can take another step and carry you straight back to Ratchet and Optimus, who can never get enough of your presence.

#be silly #transformers x reader #optimus x reader #obsessed!optimus #ratchet x reader #obsessed!ratchet #ultra magnus x reader #obsessed!ultra magnus

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the-littlest-goblin · 2 months ago

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I know we been knew that fandom in general is terrible at tolerating gray areas, but I find myself beyond irritated with this song and dance when it comes to the Pitt because the fallibility of the characters is the whole entire point.

The show is not subtle about its themes. Every single episode and character arc is hammering home that impossible, high-stakes judgement calls are an occupational hazard and a torturous burden placed on healthcare workers, and they can never be 100% sure in the moment if they're making the right decision. Sometimes you order a BiPAP and you accidentally make the patient's condition worse; sometimes you do a REBOA against literally every superior's instruction and you save a life. You do your best in the moment, and it's only after the fact, once the results come in, that people will decide whether you're a stupidly cocky student or a heroic cowboy-doctor.

That trade-off is present even when it's not life-or-death. Taking extra time and care to get to know your patients is great for the ones already in the bed; it's not great for the ones still out in the waiting room. Which type of patient satisfaction should we prioritize? Do you involve law enforcement before you know a crime has been committed? When does preemptive action prevent harm and when does it cause more? How do you adhere to "Do no harm" when someone always gets shortchanged no matter what decision you make?

Hell, the inherent unfairness is baked into the very premise of a teaching hospital: these patients didn't necessarily sign up for their once-in-a-lifetime emergency to be a med student's teachable moment. Nobody really wants a newbie doing their stitches—but also, practical experience is an absolute must for medical training. Without interns now, you can't have experts later, so here we are.

So with all that in mind, I don't think debating which character was Right or Wrong in a given scene has ever been a less productive way of engaging with a show. For all I disdain the mentality that refuses to engage with the Trolley Problem because "the REAL problem is whoever tied those people to the tracks in the first place!!1!" sometimes you actually are supposed to consider the bigger, systemic picture. The Pitt is inviting us to engage with very real problems with the state of healthcare in modern America by showcasing how it's literally impossible for these doctors to make the perfect decisions every time, and no it's not fair. To anyone.

idk I just think in light of that very clear message, fighting over which blorbo was the rudest or made the worst fuck up or whose reaction to stress and trauma is more valid is the height of media illiteracy.

#the pitt #don't mind me

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random-fandoms-fanfics · 8 months ago

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KOBD Sparkling

I think I put myself into a creative burnout and it took about two years to get out of it and back into writing. To anyone who reads this, take care of yourself and never overdo something even if you love it cause it's much easier to prevent burnout than getting out of it

I made this because I watched Transformers One (go watch it if you haven't it's really good and I want that sequel) and was sent back into the Transformers fixation I had as a kid. I loved Transformers Prime and have been rewatching it so I focused on that one for this

Cybertronian Body Parts

Work count: 1417

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It was known that Knockout and Breakdown had a more than friendly relationship, often spending hours alone together just letting their sparks dance. So it wasn’t a surprise when Breakdown started to become less enthusiastic about moving, consumed increasingly larger quantities of energon each day and stating his spark was burning. It only took one look at his spark for Knockout to notice the tiny one circling around it, speeding around as fast as it could, “looks like we got a racer here, I may need to start racing again,” Knockout’s servo reached into Breakdown’s spark cavity and scooped the tiny spark out. Holding his servo up the two bots watched as the spark began racing around Knockout’s digits, and when Knockout spread his digits apart it weaved in between them “aren’t you a little show off, wonder if you’ll be as strong as you are fast,”

Everyday Breakdown got a check up, even if they were recovering from a monumental failure or were in the middle of a mission, the little spark was taken out and admired by it’s sire and carrier, after that Knockout would record the spark’s growth as it fed off their carrier’s spark and most of the energon he consumed. The mad medic obsessed with the sparkling adhering to the median growth curve, he was it’s sire, what type of bot would he be if he didn’t ensure his little sparkling was growing at the perfect rate.

During one of their regular check ups, they found it started to feed off of Breakdown’s metal body as it was moulding liquid metal around it to create it’s first shell. After that day it’s hunger only grew, taking more and more metal to fuel it’s rapid growth, and in the hopes of satiating the ravenous hunger of the growing sparkling, Breakdown began scarfing down tons of metal, ignoring the looks from the other Decepticons.

---

One day while tracking a stray energon signal, (in reality searching for more abandoned metal he could pass to the sparkling) Breakdown found himself face to face with his wrecker rival in the middle of an abandoned city. The sparkling in his chest was nearly done growing and he had plenty of padding protecting it, letting off some steam wouldn’t hurt. And he was right, it a quick and easy fight, Bulkhead was extra irritable where the mere mention of Miko got him charging and punching without giving any thought to putting up his guard, allowing Breakdown a clear shot to his head, and before he could get in another blow, electricity coerced through him overloading his entire system and forcing him to shut off.

Even though the surge of electricity knocked Breakdown out, the flow of electricity caused something remarkable to happen within his chassis, the little sparkling devoured the electricity and it jumpstarted the sparkling’s spark, causing it to whirr to life. Their little malleable cylindrical form began to take on a simple humanoid shape, at first their head, arms and legs were defined from their body, then the end of their legs flattened out into bulkley pedes and thick digits stretched out, sharpening into dull points. As the little bot stretched out it’s optics opened, putting them face to face with the light of their carrier’s spark, but before they could enjoy the spark’s warmth, it was interrupted by the scrapping of metal and their little sanctuary shaking so violently it tossed them out of the pull of the spark, their malleable body slamming against the back of Breakdown’s spark chamber.

As Breakdown lay there, watching the humans trying to cut through his armour, he could feel the sparkling moving around, using their tiny claws to search for an exit that he refused to give them. MECH was desperately trying to get through his armour so they could learn about cybertronian biology, if they found a squishy sparkling it would be an immediate death sentence. So Breakdown held his armour tighter and fought even harder against his restraints to keep this secret, and he would’ve kept it, if it wasn’t for the loud screeching and banging that suddenly emanated from inside his chassis. Everything stopped, it seemed that even the machinery was in shock of the screeching coming from inside Breakdown, the most concerning part was the anxiety and sense of fear the screeching caused, “sounds like someone’s hiding more than just technological advancements,”

“If you even scratch them, I will ensure you will never have a moment of peace again,” Silas couldn’t help the smirk growing on his face, he got two pieces of tech for the price of one with one of them seeming even more special, “cut straight to the heart, let’s see what’s so important,” the machines started back up, moving to focus on getting through his chest plate until there was another interruption in the form of clanging metal, this silenced them once again, it even hushed the sparkling. And before MECH knew it, their base was broken into by Bulkhead, knocking down humans as he followed the train tracks to Breakdown.

When he saw Bulkhead he thought this was his last moment, and he didn’t know what would be better, using the remainder of his spark to let the Autobots find his sparkling, or keeping them hidden in the hopes the Decepticons would get to him before MECH came back to tear him open. But he didn’t need to think about that now as Bulkhead just removed his restraints, “wh-what are you doing,” Breakdown was meet with a hand being held out to him, “getting you outta here, yeah I don’t believe it either,” Bulkhead lifted Breakdown up to his feet, the blue bot immediately shutting his open chest plate closed and holding a protective servo over it, “can you walk?”

“I, I think so,” alarms and red lights that filled the tunnels caught the attention of Bulkhead and Breakdown, “can you run,”

“Never run when you could fight,”

“Just keep that thing pointed away from me alright,” with Bulkhead in the lead, the two charged down the tunnel, and the little sparkling was tossed around, their little body squishing and flatting as it was thrown into the walls of Breakdown’s chamber and it only got worse as the two massive bots engaged in battle with MECH, the battle between MECH and bots nearly squished them back into their original marshmallow like form, but thankfully after one last big crash the little sparkling found a way out of it's torment in the form of a small opening. They were able to press their body through the hole, sliding out and onto the ground, where they found themself between two massive bots tanking multiple rounds of gunfire as they slammed their hammers against the cars that sped around them.

It was too loud, it was too bright and the shaking didn’t stop, why did they have the urge to be outside if it was only worse outside. They ran from the action, but because they were taking their first steps they tripped over multiple times but none of the humans seemed to notice, ignoring the robot that stood just a foot shorter than most of them and focusing on the two robots that stood around twenty feet above them. Somehow they successfully dodged the cars that sped around them, running into a nearby building for safety, squeezing themself against a wall and into a ball they covered their audio receptors, just wanting the peace and quiet they should’ve been given for their first few hours of life, wanting to be back in the spark chamber and once again feel the warmth and love their carrier has been giving them for weeks.

Soon after they found their safety the battle ended, giving the sparkling the quiet they desired, removed their servos from their audio receptors, they heard gentle voices, with one standing out against them all, it was proud and kind, and it somehow felt safe. Uncurling themself they peeked out through the door and found themself in awe at the giant bots that stood before them, scanning the group they found their optics drawn to a bot who had a long spike on the top of her head, the shape felt familiar, like something they have seen for their entire life and deep within their spark they felt the desperate to grab onto it. The sparkling remained hidden, just watching the bots until a blue and green portal appeared behind the group, it’s glow mesmerising the tiny sparkling, and that's when the little bot, that was fresh to this new and dangerous world, had it's first thought that wasn't motivated by fear.

Should I touch the glowing thing.

#kobd #tfp kobd #transformers #transformers prime #tfp #knockout #breakdown #tfp knock out #tfp breakdown #transformers sparklings #sparkling #knockout x breakdown #transformers x reader #tfp x reader

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silvercap · 1 month ago

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You don't have to write it if you don't have any ideas, but I have been thinking lately about Chris Redfield flatlining while in a hospital... :3

Sure >:)

They drag him in on a stretcher, body bloodied and burned from the explosion, bits of the spandex shirt melted into his dark, scarred skin. He's all but soaked in blood, the sheets already red when the nurses transfer him over to a gurney and begin to strip off shredded clothing. The shrapnel embedded in his chest rises and falls with the increasingly shallow breaths he takes, oxygen mask fogging ever so slightly where it's been strapped over his strong nose and chin.

"We need blood," one nurse orders, examining the IV in his arm from the field medic team. "He's losing a lot of it, fast."

"Blood pressure dropping," another warns, the shrill warning beep of newly-adhered monitors echoing around the room. "Bring a crash cart!"

In the hallway, a tall man paces anxiously, stormy eyes turned towards the door and body tensed as if he's about to run in despite the muscled male nurse watching him closely by the door. His bangs cover part of his face as he dips his head, eye gleaming as he prowls. His own body is spattered in blood and grime, arm bandaged hastily enough that blood still seeps through the gauze, but he makes no move to tend to it.

Inside the room, the monitor screams a shrill warning as the dying man's heart goes into arrest, pulse stuttering from hypovolemic shock. The nurses start to call out orders and swarm their patient like red ants on an unsuspecting frog, though in this case they wish to save their quarry instead of poison it. Scissors slice through the man's shirt to reveal a bloodied, bruised chest that's already scarred beyond belief, another gloved hand diving in with a razor to shave away the thick hair. Sticky pads are pressed down, one on the man's chest and the other on his ribcage, above and below his stuttering heart. The machine they're attached to springs to life with a beeping sound, its light flashing as it takes in the data of his heart rhythm.

Before it finishes, the monitor shrieks in a single line of dull monotone as it flatlines, the man in the hallway's head flying up as his eyes widen in shock.

"Chris!" he shouts, darting for the door, but the nurse is ready for it and catches him in strong arms, telling him to sit and let the doctors do their job. "Let go of me!" he demands, hands finding the right points on the nurse's body to gain leverage---only for him to falter and stop himself from performing the deadly precise defensive move he'd been about to employ, shoving the man's arms off of him instead and stumbling back.

"Fuck," he mutters, hands clenching in his hair. His voice is a growl, only to break with emotion as he sits down hard in a chair against the opposite wall. "Fuck!"

In the room, the dying man's mouth is being pulled open to make way for the breathing tube as someone else commences CPR from the edge of the bed, his body limp as a doll's.

All the while, the monitor screams, a single, chilling tone that means the heart it's tracking has finally, inevitably, failed.

#whump #ask game #asks #resident evil #drabbles #medical whump #heehehhee

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heqvenlymoons · 1 year ago

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I'll Follow You Until You Love Me

Inspired by a tiktok edit, the song Paparazzi by Lady Gaga and @olivia-anderson-fanfic 's Stalker x Stalker fic <3

Timinette One Shot | Stalker x Stalker | AO3

Within the privacy of her room, Marinette studied the murder board she had made of Tim Drake, which hung on the wall beside her bed. Her eyes admired the various pristine photos of him, fingers tracing his jawline in a gentle caress with an expression that could only be described as dopey.

Connecting the strategically adhered photos to the board along with the yellow sticky notes— containing details such as his hobbies, favourite spots, and other tidbits of his life— were a bright red string, linking elements together whenever necessary.

There was a Red Robin emblem pinned on the center of the board beside the name ‘Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne’, a reference to his vigilante identity.

Understanding the importance of secret identities, Marinette had refrained from scattering the Red Robin emblems across the board like she wanted to, which would heavily hint at his identity.

That wouldn’t be good if someone were to break into her apartment or if the board fell into the wrong hands.

The Red Robin emblem pinned on the board was discreet enough, merely an adorable drawing of a robin coloured in red.

The need for discretion with Tim’s vigilante identity hadn’t stopped her from scribbling red hearts all over the board, in various sizes and shades of red.

It seemed like her obsession with knowing every detail of her crush’s life only got worse after she moved on from Adrien.

A trauma response to how despite being focused on knowing everything about Adrien from his personality to his schedule, she hadn’t accounted for how the Adrien Agreste she sees every day was all but a mask to hide his true self.

His true colours had shown during the many lectures he had forced onto her about not exposing Lila and taking the ‘high road’. Looking back, Marinette had been too naive and optimistic to have missed the subtle devious gleam in his eyes when he outright gaslighted and manipulated her into thinking she had to ‘be the bigger person’ and not let Lila get to her.

That had spoken volumes about the true personality of the supposed ‘Sunshine of Paris’.

Marinette hated herself for how obsessed she was with Adrien. She felt like a fool for having fallen for him, thinking she knew everything there was to know about him when in reality she knew nothing about him at all.

The icing on the cake was that Marinette hadn’t even known he was Chat Noir until she took his ring away, having had enough of his pushy behaviour and lazily watching off the side during the rare times he was present during akuma battles.

It was like the situation with Kim all over again but worse.

The several attempts to confess her feelings to Adrien have always gone awry and she would forever thank the kwamis for having dodged that bullet. It was a privilege she didn’t have with Kim.

Marinette vowed then to do better, to take it even further. If she were to have another crush after Adrien, she would obsessively study their life, determined to know everything there was to know like a crazy stalker.

It was what she did with Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne.

Finding out he was a well-known public figure had only heightened her actions. Being a celebrity was going to entail putting up a mask, and locking away your true self from the media.

It was what Adrien did after all, and she wouldn’t make the same mistake again by overlooking the famous aspect of Tim.

With her hard-earned hacking skills, she hacked into government records, education, medical, banking institutions, and everything for Tim’s files. Everything. She had to know everything to know what kind of a person he would be.

But it wouldn’t stop there. She bugged his room, and his office at Wayne Enterprise and placed a tracking device on him.

She would know his address so she could watch from afar as Ladybug how he acted when alone and away from the public’s eye. She would follow him around, ever so ready to catch even the slightest slip-ups while taking care to be discreet in doing so.

He might be able to hide his true self from the public but what would a person do when they thought they were alone? They won’t bother to hide their true selves then.

If that weren’t enough, she found ways to plant herself near where he was. With a little luck, she landed a job as his secretary at Wayne Enterprise, which gave her legitimate reasons to be around him.

Within a day of diligently watching Tim, she had discovered he moonlighted as the famed vigilante Red Robin. With that discovery, she had enough information to piece together the identities of the rest of the Bat family.

She was willing to believe Tim might be a good person based on the fact he was a hero, but heroes can be two-faced as well. Chat Noir had been proof of that.

Regardless of knowing all this information, it wasn’t enough. She needed more. She had to have a conversation with him when he was at his worst.

What better to do than to stage a kidnapping and talk to him in an empty warehouse hidden away in the city somewhere?

Marinette wouldn’t hurt him of course, she would never hurt him no matter what.

The idea led to her current predicament, where she was drawing up numerous plans along with backup plans and the plans for the backup plans.

She had one chance to do this correctly, and with Tim being Red Robin himself with the rest of the Bat family to back him up, she doubted the odds would be in her favour even when she was the very embodiment of luck.

So focused on her plans, she missed Tikki exchanging worried looks with the other kwamis.

Tikki flew over to her, a hesitant look on her face as she contemplated how to address her chosen’s obsessive behaviour.

Marinette looked up from the several boards filled with kidnapping plans and met the gaze of her concerned kwami.

Marinette knew she looked like a mess. There were huge bags under her eyes from spending nights finalizing her plans. Her pigtails had long fallen out of their neat style, leaving tangled heaps of raven hair from the many times she tugged on it.

Misunderstanding the kwamis’ concerns, she attempted a smile. “I know I haven’t been sleeping but I promise I will soon. I’m almost done finalizing the plans and if they’re done by tonight, I can put it into action tomorrow.”

Tikki’s eyes widened and the other kwamis were speaking over one another in a poor attempt to stall the plan in hopes of the boy miraculously catching wind of this and having time to get away.

“Um Master, perhaps you should reconsider. Do you think it’s wise to—”

“Oh my, I don't think this is a good idea. He’s a Wayne, glorious and famous! You should just demand for his hand in marriage instead—”

“Not that your plan isn’t sly, it is, but maybe take some more time to come up with an even slyer plan—?”

One voice in particular stopped all arguments. “Ugh, if Pigtails wants to stalk her crush, let her. I fail to see what you’re all so worried about, you don’t have this problem with cheese.”

Tikki turned to Plagg, aghast. “Plagg, you stinky sock! Stop encouraging her! Stalking is not healthy, and not to mention, morally wrong. I’ve never seen Marinette this obsessed, even with Adrien and we all saw how that turned out!”

Marinette winced at the blonde’s name but it went ignored as Plagg rolled his eyes.

“Don’t bring Blondie into this, he was still a good cat until his soul got corrupted because he wasn’t a true holder.” Plagg hissed, crossing his arms and looking upset. “I’m not saying Pigtails is going about her crush the right way but cut her some slack, Sugar Cube, she’s been through a lot and doesn’t need you yelling at her now that Hawkbutt’s been defeated.”

Tikki, to her credit, looked chastened by the end of her counterpart’s rant.

Marinette felt touched that Plagg cared enough to defend her and she reached a hand out to pet the kwami of destruction's head.

Plagg seemed to know what she was thinking and zipped away. “Yeah, yeah, don’t get all sappy on me now, Pigtails. You can show your appreciation by feeding me cheese.”

Marinette huffed out a laugh at his response, while Tikki wore a scandalized expression on her face accompanied by a shout of “Plagg!”

Tikki turned to Marinette, eyes softening. “Do you think it’s a good idea to go through with the plan? You’re already breaching Tim’s privacy and boundaries enough without adding kidnapping to the mix. Why not just approach him at the coffee shop he goes to every day? You can still have a conversation with him there without breaking laws and boundaries.”

Marinette’s hands tightened on the board she was holding, a twinge of guilt surging through her because Tikki was right. It was wrong to cross Tim’s boundaries by stalking him, but she couldn’t stop.

It was like a drug, she couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. She needed to know everything about him so history doesn’t repeat itself for the third time.

She remembered meeting Tim for the first time like it was yesterday.

──────────

Marinette had been in a rush, the popular fabric store she liked to frequent was having a flash sale today and she needed to hurry or everything would sell out.

But first, she needed her daily dose of coffee for energy.

In her haste to shuffle towards the coffee shop, she hadn’t noticed someone bumping into her, knocking her to the ground.

“Are you alright, M-Miss? I’m so sorry about that, I didn’t mean to knock you over! Uh, not that I was planning to knock someone else over either! Please don’t take this the wrong way,” a panicked voice made her look up from the ground and to the owner of the voice.

Marinette’s heart raced at the sight of a black-haired boy with cerulean blue eyes. She was aware her mouth was agape, but she couldn’t seem to move as her eyes stared into his, fascinated.

Although he had eye bags that could rival hers when she pulled all-nighters working on commissions, the boy still looked very handsome.

Marinette thought he must be photogenic.

“I can assure you, I’m not, but I appreciate the vote of confidence,” the boy said, his lips quirking into a heartstopping smile.

Her face felt hot as she realized she said the words out loud and she stuttered out apologies but he waved her off.

His smile widened, a happy gleam in his eyes like he had accomplished something only he knew. He held out the coffee cup to her, nodding for her to take it.

Her hand reached out, albeit hesitant but she took it. Her fingers brushed his, sending electric sparks through her.

She peaked at him through her lashes to see if he had felt the spark to see him with the same happy smile, only it seemed to have brightened.

His eyes flickered to the fabric shop in the distance and back to her, the movement was fast and Marinette would have missed it if she hadn’t been so focused on watching him.

“You seem to be in a rush, I won’t take up more of your time than need be. I really am sorry about bumping into you,” he reiterated his apology, except he hadn’t looked that sorry at all.

He looked rather happy for having knocked someone over.

His smile seemed to dim the longer she stared at him without saying anything. He shuffled his feet, looking unsure and a crestfallen look had fallen upon his face.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, sounding genuinely regretful now as he moved to walk past her without meeting her gaze.

Marinette forced herself to move before he got lost in the crowds without her getting his name. She needed to see him again but she needed his full name so she could ‘check’ he was genuine. “Wait! My name’s Marinette Dupain-Cheng. What’s yours?”

She had introduced herself with her full name in hopes of getting his full name in return. It could’ve been a dumb move as it was Gotham. The boy could be in a gang for all she knows.

Judging by the look on the boy’s face, he seemed to think so as well. Though he didn't disappoint. The look cleared as fast as it came and the happy grin was back on his face. “Timothy Jackson Drake-Wayne. Only fair I give you my full name in return as well.”

He offered one last polite smile before walking past her again, this time with a happy bounce in his steps, unaware their first meeting would be the catalyst of her new obsession.

──────────

“The conversation has to happen somewhere out of the public’s eye so I can make sure it’s the real Tim and not just what he was showing because he’s in public,” Marinette sighed in response to Tikki’s question.

The kwamis were silent. They all knew her past crush on Adrien had reopened old wounds and that she was determined to not repeat mistakes.

Tikki was about to respond but Plagg shook his head.

“Just let it play out, Sugar Cube. You know as well as I do that when Pigtails makes up her mind, there’s virtually nothing we can do to change it,” he said softly, his green cat eyes watching as Marinette’s gaze drifted back to the murder board of Tim by her bed, a look of yearning in her eyes.

The kwamis watched her work in silence, with looks of concern, sadness and resignation.

──────────

The next morning, Marinette buzzed with excitement and nerves from the prospect of talking to Tim again. They did talk daily, what with her being his secretary but today felt different. She would finally see whether or not his kindness and everything he did was an act.

She made her way to the coffee shop near WE with a light bounce in her steps, picking up his favourite coffee drink she had ordered via mobile.

At the counter, when no one was looking, she slipped in a concoction she had made for when she couldn’t sleep into Tim’s drink, giving the cup a subtle shake for good measure.

Leaving the serene ambience of the coffee shop, Marinette made her way to the front steps of Wayne Enterprise, just in time to see Tim exiting the car and bidding Alfred goodbye.

Tim lit up when he saw her, and not for the first time, Marinette felt a twinge of guilt from what she was about to do. Maybe kidnapping hadn’t been the right way to go about it but she won’t back out now.

Feeling cheered by the sight of him watching her with a happy smile, she moved forward, handing him the coffee cup. “Your favourite order, as per usual.”

With her eager gaze fixed on the cup he had grabbed and anticipating his first sip, she missed the imperceptible knowing glint in his eyes.

He turned away from her slightly, seeming to be distracted by a commotion happening from a distance away. Fortunately, from her angle, she could see he had taken a big sip from the cup.

He turned back to her with a dopey expression on his face, looking at her like she had hung the stars. “Thank you, Mari, you’re the best! I know I can always count on you when my family cuts me off from my beloved coffee.”

Her heart stuttered at the way he was looking at her. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she ducked her head with sudden shyness.

Marinette watched him from her peripheral, waiting for the concoction to take effect.

He moved forward like he was heading toward the entrance of Wayne Enterprise when he stumbled and she moved to hold on to his arm.

Tim shook his head, trying to stay awake but Marinette knew it was no use. His eyes had started to droop as he struggled to stay awake, his hands clinging onto her and pulling her close, seeming unaware she was the one who drugged him.

She was all too happy in allowing him to lean against her, ushering him away from WE’s entrance before anyone could catch on to what was happening and led him to an alley nearby. “Come on, you deserve a break anyway.”

He buried his head in the crook of her neck, Marinette’s mind going into overdrive at the action and his proximity, biting her lip to keep from squealing like she wanted to.

“I’ll follow you anywhere,” he mumbled, his words causing the guilt to eat at her now.

It wasn’t too late, she could lead Tim to his office in the Wayne Enterprise building and pass it off as him being sleep-deprived as usual if anyone asked— no, she had to do this. The hard part was already done, she couldn’t give up now. It was to go big or go home, right?

In the alley, she grabbed the glasses from her purse with one hand and put them on. Ignoring the disapproving gaze of Kaalki when the kwami of migration materialized from the miraculous, she muttered the transformation phase.

She paid no attention to the heavy feeling in her chest as she opened a portal to a warehouse forty minutes outside of the city.

Everything will be alright, it’ll work out, Marinette repeated in her mind like a martyr as she ushered the sleeping Tim into the portal.

It had to be.

──────────

Everything was not going to be alright.

That was Marinette’s first thought ten minutes later after she had tied Tim up to a chair with a rope she had left in the warehouse the night before and bound his hands together with a zip tie.

Now, she was on the verge of having a panic attack from her thoughts.

What had she been thinking? Tim was going to hate her and when his family rescued him, they were going to kick her out of the city, or worse, put her behind bars for life! She can’t go to jail, who would protect the miracle box?

She should’ve listened to Tikki and the kwamis. She was a selfish person for not having thought of what would happen to the miracle box if she were locked away in prison. How could she not have considered the consequences?

She was starting to hyperventilate when gentle hands grabbed her, accompanied by a familiar soft voice, snapping her out from the beginning of a panic attack.

“Hey, Mari, you’re okay. I need you to breathe with me, can you do that?”

She took a deep breath, grabbing onto the hands of the owner of the voice to ground herself. She looked up to see… Tim?

He was crouched in front of her, filled with concern and worry for her. Distantly, she realized during her dissociation, she had dropped to the ground and curled in on herself, hugging her knees to her chest.

Her expression twisted into one of horror when she realized he had somehow broken out of the bindings restraining him to the chair.

“I’m sorry for kidnapping you,” she wailed, blurting the first thing from her mind and moving away from him like a frightened rabbit.

She wanted to scream in frustration. I’m sorry for kidnapping you. Really? That was the best she could say? You don’t just apologize for kidnapping someone!

Tim looked dumbfounded, though he didn’t seem to be afraid.

Of course, he wasn’t afraid, he was Red Robin for crying out loud! As a public figure, he’d probably been kidnapped for ransom more times than she could count. Her sorry excuse of an attempt to kidnap him was pathetic compared to the more dangerous situations he’d been in.

When he stayed silent, she blurted out, “Please don’t send me to prison.”

He frowned. “Why would I send you to prison?”

Marinette’s jaw dropped in disbelief. Looking at him like he was the crazy one, she sputtered out, “B-because I kidnapped you! And stalk you. I've been following and watching you for so long, your privacy might as well be non-existent!”

He opened his mouth to respond but she rushed on, not giving him the chance. “If you don’t send me to prison, I’m sure Batman will, especially when I’ve kidnapped his son!”

“I tried to kidnap Batman’s son,” Marinette whispered in realization and whimpered, tugging at her raven pigtails in distress.

Tim didn’t look surprised or upset by the fact she knew his vigilante identity. On the contrary, he looked way too happy for someone who had gotten drugged, kidnapped and found out that he had an obsessive stalker. He wore a look of pure happiness on his face as he spoke. “Mari, no one is going to send you to prison. I won’t let it.”

She shook her head, unconvinced. What was he doing? Didn’t he realize he was away from the public? He didn’t have to keep up the act anymore.

“Marinette, I’m being serious. Nothing is going to happen to you,” he reassured her, moving to wrap his arms around her in a hug. The happiness was still present on his face but his eyes had softened into a look of adoration as he looked down to the girl in his arms.

“But why?” she whispered in confusion, blinking up at him with teary eyes.

Not that she wanted him or anyone from his family to send her to prison but shouldn’t he be more concerned by the fact that she had been stalking him for kwami knows how long?

She had heard enough lectures from Tikki to be aware that her obsessive behaviour was unhealthy and warranted concern, and yet, Tim wasn’t acting how she expected.

A smile tugged at his lips and she stared, captivated.

He seemed to preen at her awestruck look, smiling wider. His hand moved to play with the ends of one of her pigtails, saying in a quiet but fond voice. “I know you’re MDC.”

Marinette froze, her lips moving to deny from instinct but he continued in that soft voice of his.

“I’ve been a fan since you designed Jagged Stone’s Rock Giant album. Your commissions were never open but even when they were, you only accepted orders by referral. I decided to search for your identity then, but that led to an unhealthy obsession of digging up everything about you when I uncovered your full name.”

It was silent as he let the implication of his words sink in. He had the decency to look ashamed for invading her privacy.

“Your school records showed how you were once expelled, and the expulsion was retracted with no reason listed. Then I was digging into François Dupont, trying to find out the cause for your expulsion and why it was retracted. Everywhere I looked, it said you were bullying someone by the name of Lila Rossi.”

His jaws clenched, a look of anger crossing his face but Marinette knew he wasn’t angry at her. He was angry for her. “But in reality, it had been the other way around! All her ridiculous claims were documented on that tabloid blog— the Ladyblog— and it was so easy to destroy her. I sent lawsuits after her and contacted every celebrity she lied about.”

Marinette remembered that day, it had been glorious. The downfall of the liar who had gone through on her promise to make Marinette’s life a living hell.

It was the last day of school before the winter break and Marinette had looked forward to the break, desperate to get away from the glares and verbal assault her classmates were sending on behalf of the Italian girl.

After lunch, in the middle of class, Marinette had watched with wide eyes as Lila was delivered piles of lawsuits from every celebrity she had ever lied about.

Marinette had always wondered who was the one behind the execution of the lawsuits. She hadn’t believed for a second that suddenly, without prompting, every celebrity Lila had lied about got together overnight to serve the Italian girl lawsuits.

Until now, that is. Marinette watched Tim in awe, feeling tears pricked the corner of her eyes because despite them being strangers at the time, he hadn’t hesitated in destroying someone who was dead set on ruining her life.

He was better than Adrien in every aspect. Better than her former friends.

Tim had stood up for her when no one else would.

And for that alone, Marinette knew she wouldn’t be falling out of love with him anytime soon.

“Don’t even get me started on the Hawkmoth situation. Yes, I know you’re Ladybug,” he said, causing her to freeze yet again at his words for having uncovered another part of her identity.

She relaxed a second later. She trusted Tim. Besides, It was only fair after she knew his identity he was Red Robin.

He sighed, running a hand through his black locks, looking into her eyes with his blue ones. “What I’m trying to say is, it would be hypocritical of me to send you to prison for stalking me when I’ve been doing the very same thing to you.”

Shocked by the fact that her stalking was reciprocated, she only managed a soft “Oh.” in response to his speech.

He grabbed her hand, his grip firm, yet gentle. “I know stalking is… frowned upon and morally wrong, but I don’t mind you stalking me forever.”

He grinned, not hiding the happiness in his eyes. Although his smile wavered, as if anxious. “In fact, I’m ecstatic by the fact that I’m not the only one, uh, resorting to illegal measures to get to know his crush?”

Marinette squeaked at his admission, covering her red face with her hands. “C-crush?”

Hearing Tim confess his feelings made her feel elated that it hadn’t been one-sided. She was over the moon!

He smiled, albeit shy and his cheeks were turning pink. “Yeah. With all the digging I’ve done on you, I feel like I’ve known you forever. I know you’re my secretary and because of that a lot of the conversations we have were strictly business, but I would like to change that. I want to get to know you through proper conversations.”

As messed up as it might be, Marinette was glad she wasn’t the only one with stalking tendencies when it came to crushes.

With everything she had compiled on Tim, there were some things you won’t know until you’ve personally been told because not every tidbit of information was going to be on the internet, celebrity or not.

She much preferred learning things about Tim by talking to him rather than hiding out of sight and admiring him afar like she was his shadow.

With a blush blooming across her cheeks, she managed to get it out, without stuttering, “I feel the same way.”

He lit up like it was Christmas and still holding her close to him, his gaze dropped to her lips. “C-can I—”

Knowing what he was asking, she responded before he could get the full sentence out. “Yes.”

He wasted no time in pressing his lips against hers.

The kiss was soft and sweet, filled with passion and longing between them.

Her arms moved to wrap around his neck, pulling him as close to her as possible.

If stalking Tim was a drug, then the kiss was an addiction she never wanted to cure.

“Oh my gosh, I’m kissing MDC,” he mumbled against her lips in disbelief, internally fangirling. “I’m your biggest fan, I’ll follow you until you love me.”

Marinette flushed at his declaration. She could never get used to the idea that she might have people who are fans of her work, much less Tim being her biggest fan.

“I’ll hold you to that,” was what she mumbled back before her thoughts and senses were consumed with nothing but him.

#maribat #timinette #timari #maribat marinette dupain cheng #maribat tim drake #stalker x stalker #heqvenlymoons #this oneshot is mainly inspired by a tiktok edit #someone take the internet away from me because inspiration is everywhere #i cannot be stopped

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darkmaga-returns · 1 month ago

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By Peter A. McCullough, MD, MPH

Dr. McCullough appeared on the Steve Gruber Show to discuss how you can take control of their health. Taking control of your health means being proactive and engaged in making choices and adopting habits that promote well-being, rather than relying solely on medical professionals. It involves understanding your body, adopting a healthy lifestyle, and actively managing any health concerns you may have.

Adopting a healthy lifestyle:This includes eating a balanced diet prioritizing high quality source of protein and fresh fruits and vegetables, getting regular exercise, and prioritizing sleep.

Understanding your body:Paying attention to your body's signals, seeking medical advice when needed, and keeping track of your health records.

Being proactive in your health care:This means being an active participant in your healthcare decisions, asking questions, and advocating for your needs. In particular securing critical generic drugs at this time to last through the China trade negotiations.

Managing chronic conditions:For individuals with chronic health conditions, taking control involves actively managing their symptoms, adhering to treatment plans, and making lifestyle adjustments to improve their quality of life.

Prioritizing self-care:This includes activities that promote mental, emotional, and social well-being, such as spending time with loved ones, engaging in hobbies, and practicing stress-reduction techniques.

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harry-trumans-dishwasher · 6 months ago

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After years of consideration, the time has come for me to compile and share the final word on the TF2 Mercs and their attitudes towards firearm safety.

Type A: Engineer, Spy, and Sniper are all strict adherents of gun safety in the field. If one of those three is seen dropping their gun or even holding it weird, the other two will ruthlessly mock him for weeks.

It should be noted that the Engineer has a totally different attitude towards his sentries. Whenever one accidentally targets a coworkers, he has the attitude of the shittiest pet-owner whose little darling has just nipped at a guest. “Whoops! Fiesty little thing, ain’t she? I told you not to come at her her from behind! Ahuhuh!”

Type B: Scout, Pyro, and the Medic have never been taught how to wield firearms safely. Medic makes his own weapons, Pyro learned how to use a shotgun by asking it nicely, and a sort of divine providence protects Scout from negligent discharge since that's how he was conceived.

Secret Third Type: Heavy and Demoman refuse to believe their weapons, in their hands, could do *anything* accidentally. They will absentmindedly muzzle-sweep you and give you a very charitable look if you get upset.

Super-Secret Fourth Type: The Soldier read a book on forklift safety and got it confused for gun safety. If he has to cross railroad tracks while holding a firearm, he will do so at a slight diagonal angle.

This is my take but obviously the "Rule of Funny" supersedes all that is cannon or assumed in the TF2 Universe. If it's necessary for the Spy to keep a loaded assault rifle in his oven to make a joke work, then yeah, clown on you crazy diamond.

#taggitytagtag #tf2 #team fortress 2

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gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan · 1 year ago

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Heathen in My Own Right

Author's note: Hura's next chapter. I mentioned @sleepyfan-blog Death Guard OC Darsas and their Salamander OC: Ash'val too. @kit-williams OC's Roland and Arnault are mentioned in this. Thanks for letting me borrow them!

Past =-= Next

Warnings: None as far as I can tell. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Summary: Hura and others get warned about a Feral War Band of Black Templars showing up.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Hura’s beloved human has fully recovered from their illness a month later, the minor blessing that he’d given them had been a tad stronger than he’d meant it to be. But he’d made sure to note down that he was able to give a Blessing of Nurgle that was so strong, in Ancient Terra where things were far, far more difficult and took far more effort, resources and time than in their home Era.

It was something he was going to mention to Darsas the next time he saw him. Darsas tended to be more of a wanderer by nature and what his duties were, while Hura was an Apothecary, but necessity was more stationary. Granted, he, like all Apothecaries, was rotated through the various Astartes run stations as needed.

And if he was called in to help with particularly recalcitrant or difficult renegade and most especially Chaos Marines, he was happy to help. He’d met Zeth recently, a Black Legionnaire, while he was blessed by the Warp with strong gifts… he was not the brightest of the Sons of Horus.

Which wasn’t a bad thing, but something that was noted in his file for his fellow brothers and cousins in Chaos to help him with. Sometimes that type of brothers and cousins needed a bit more help, more structure and routine, and did poorly in the even less structured environment that is Ancient Terra if they weren’t a part of a specific group of marines.

Bless his Hearts, Zeth was trying his best, but that Cousin has already gotten into trouble several different times and didn’t seem to quite understand what it was that he did that he was being scolded for.

At Hura’s suggestion, he was put into a group with a couple of the sharper Sons of Horus and was given one of the stricter Chaos Marine Sergeants to keep him on track. While Hura isn’t an officer, he tends to be able to get his fellow Marines to listen and behave with his unique blend of pleasantly threatening.

Also, Chaos Marines especially know the phrase of “don’t fuck with the medic” and adhere to it, usually more strictly than the renegades and loyalists do. He scratches at one of his elbows as he heads into the Apothecary Meeting, listening to the others talk about various important administrative things.

Hearing about a War Band of Loyalist Black Templars (is there any other kind?) that are in the area that have some members who are… particularly dangerous. Has his eyes sharpening and he asks what they mean by that.

“One of the Salamander Captains,” The Ultramarine Apothecary says, “Said he’d gotten a warning from one of the Primaris Marines that the Chaplain Captain in that particular war band is… quite a hardliner.”

“Great, a particularly over zealous Son of Dorn,” One of his fellow Chaos Marine Apothecaries says with a groan, “So fun. Are we being shifted from inner city clinics to outer until the bastards leave then?”

“Yes, for the safety of yourselves and those around us,” Zariel says with a nod.

“Any other information about this Black Templar war band that you should or need to tell us about?” Hura asks.

“Not at this time.” Zariel says with a shake of his head.

Ash’val had been almost breathing fire how angry he was, and he’d grabbed all of the Primaris Marines on the base and had stuck them in the nest, a safe place and had been almost breathing literal fire and had stirred up the rest of the Salamanders quite unpleasantly. Learning what Catius had told him had, reevaluating the Black Templar Chapter, and sending a message back to his handler about it.

Not that Ash’val had told him everything but it was more about the politics of M42 which had been nasty business. He’s not going to stir up this mixed group of loyalists, renegade and Chaos Apothecaries.

Especially since some of them would spread the information around to some of their more Troublesome brothers and cousins to Start Shit. Not only that but Roland and Arnault of the Black Templars were also in the area. Having been told about another Black Templar Primaris marine in need of Older Brother guidance. Not that Zariel is going to tell these people that.

“Thank you for the warning cousin,” Hura says with a nod.

#warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry sentience #space marine husbandry #warhammer #adeptus astartes #death guard #death guard oc #space marine #chaos marine #chaos marine oc #oc: Hura #poor unfortunate souls #mentioned oc Darsas #mentioned oc Arnault #mentioned oc Roland

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museandquill · 7 months ago

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Chronic Illness in College

College can be a hard time for any student, but it can be especially challenging for students with chronic illnesses.

Below are effective ways you and your college can help make college life easier, and spread awareness of different problems that disabled students can deal with on top of regular college life.

STUDENTS

Work With Your Disability Center to Secure Accommodations

These accommodations may include note-taking services, extended deadlines, flexible attendance policies, and the option to take exams in a low-stress environment. Advocating for these accommodations not only helps students succeed academically but also establishes a clear understanding between students and faculty regarding their needs.

Time Management

Effective time management is a valuable skill for any college student, but it’s especially valuable for students with chronic illnesses who face near constant, unpredictable health challenges. For chronically ill students, adhering to a rigid schedule is often impractical or even impossible, so flexibility becomes essential. Using planners, apps, or digital reminders can help students track assignments, plan for rest breaks, and set realistic daily goals.

Manage Your Energy

Unlike their peers, chronically ill students often have significantly less energy available to them due to symptoms such as fatigue, pain, or side effects from their medications. They may find that their "energy reserves" are quickly depleted, making it difficult to keep up with the demands of college and social life. To manage this, chronically ill students can focus on conserving their limited energy by prioritizing essential tasks, taking frequent breaks, and pacing themselves throughout the day. Strategies such as spacing out tasks, resting between classes, and reducing non-essential commitments can help students avoid overexertion and brain fog.

Create a Support System

Whether that’s friends or teachers and staff, having a support system is crucial. Students should reach out to friends, family, and counselors who can provide emotional support and understanding.

COLLEGES

Create More Accessible and Flexible Policies

This could include flexible attendance policies, access to recorded lectures, and options for remote learning when necessary. This would not only help chronically ill students, but can also help average students when they are sick or have family emergencies.

Enhance Health and Counseling Services

On-campus health facilities should include services specifically designed for chronic illness management, and counseling staff should be equipped to help students cope with the psychological challenges of balancing illness and academics. Peer support groups on campus or online can offer an additional layer of comfort, as students can connect with others who understand the specific challenges of living with a chronic illness in college.

Spread Awareness and Reduce Stigma

Ways that colleges can do this is by creating awareness programs focused on chronic illness and invisible disabilities. Faculty training and awareness campaigns can foster a campus culture of empathy and understanding, encouraging faculty and students alike to be more supportive. These programs can help ensure that all students feel seen and respected, regardless of their health challenges.

#disabled #disability #disabled college student #mental health #college life

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shmowder · 11 months ago

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Related to that recent post of yours you got any headcanons for how Daniil would be as a dad? Because I truly believe that man would be a good father…. Although he’s probably every teachers nightmare come to life, he also strikes as the type who wouldn’t have originally planned to have any children but the second he holds his kid for the first time he’s absolutely smitten and will tell anyone about his who listens about his kid.

In my heart I know that he's a girl dad.

Daniil, who doesn't care about the baby's gender during pregnancy, who always reminds people that he'll treat his child the same no matter what.

But oh, the second his daughter is born and he holds her in his arms. A whole new life just born into existence, started in front of his eyes, hearing her soft cry as he stood there in a trance.

Realising he's a father now.

It's like a switch immediately flipped. Paternal instincts kicking in.

This child might as well rival the sun in greatness in Dankovsky's eyes, She's genuinely all that's on his mind.

What he thought would be just a new responsibility on his shoulders, another milestone to cross off of the list of life goals before going back to his research and studies, completely turned his world upside down.

You know Daniil's tendency to litter his sentences with "I, me and my" to always talk about himself no matter the subject? Yeah, well, now he talks about his daughter instead.

"Oh your child started crawling, how...nice. Well MY daughter just took her first steps when my partner and I took her out to that new restaurant. Oh yes, I'm aware they don't allow kids, but she isn't just any kid. She is so well behaved and much smarter than her age, of course even the restaurant owner could see that and exempt her from the...common rules."

Daniil doesn't adhere to stereotypical parental roles either. He's taking his daughter to the nearest changing station even if it meant walking into the women's bathroom because the men's didn't have it.

He's the one to prepare her bottles with care, always test the warm water beforehand to ensure the temperature is appropriate, count the tablespoons of powdered milk he scoops, secure the cap and shake the bottle.

Keeping track of her feeding time, preparing her baths, and drying her throughly. Keeping her warm and safe as she drifts off to sleep before laying her back into her crib.

He doesn't "forget" or get lazy. He takes each of those responsibilities seriously no matter how much of his personal time is cut off because of it.

He's always boosting about how his daughter has no difficulty solving those kids' educational puzzles and how he started giving her adult puzzle to solve instead.

He's doting in his own way, spending time with her during playtime, letting her mess his hair and paint on the walls with no repercussions. Allowing her absolute freedom in self-expression.

Part of him especially enjoys the clothes shopping.

Dad Daniil who would rather set the store on fire than allow his child to wear something tacky or cheap, who takes his daughter to high-end brand stores to get her measurements taken so a tailor may design a one of a kind set for her. Putting extra care in styling her hair each morning, the hair accessories with actual gems and pearls, the neat tidy shoes and socks with ruffles. Daniil dresses her like his very own doll and basks in all the compliments other parents give her way each time they go out.

Each birthday is given it's due in importance and made into an event, sending invitations to his colleague doctors and researchers alike, taking pride in each cursive letter he inks as his daughter sits on his lap, eyeing his work with interest and sometimes adding an ink stain or two with her small fingers.

Daniil's study becomes her favourite place to play as she grows up. While Daniil would've chased any other rascal away who attempted to even touch his medical equipment, his daughter is treated like royality instead.

Part of him enjoys teaching. He lacks the patient, but his love for her overflows through his veins and makes him want to try harder and better himself, be more gentle.

This is why he's patient as he teaches her how to work a microscope, how to be careful with the cog as you turn it, and how to carry the glass slides with diligence.

And the look on her face as she marvels at the discovery that a whole new world of microscopic organisms exists just under her little thumb, it made Daniil feel as if all the suffering and hardships he went through just to get up to this point were completely worth it.

He infects her with his love for science. He reads to her fables and stories each night to raise her on good morals and grant her a noble soul.

His daughter quickly takes a hatred to lying as much as he does, she is never afraid to state her opinion neither is she reluctant to share her ideals and dreams, no matter how big she dreams, her father taught her that anything is possible if you work hard for it.

While they may have a falling out during teenagehood like any healthy parent and child relationship goes through, I think Daniil would still be her favourite parent even then.

He's the first to stomp to the private school if he even suspects anyone is giving her a hard time or a teacher is being unreasonable.

He's the one who has the period talk with her as a doctor. He reassures her this is all completely normal, and he'll offer her painkillers whenever it gets too much.

Dankovsky even has the sex talk with her later as she grows up. He would rather she stayed aware and informed than accidentally got herself into an unkown situation. He explains everything with the nonchalance of a medical professional rather than a father to not make things awkward for her.

That's why their relationship survives the rocky teenage years, because The Bachelor made sure to remain a stable figure in her life. To always be nearby to help but never be suffocating or judgmental.

His daughter is genuinely his life's work. He has put all of his efforts into giving her the best possible relationship with her parents, into letting her flourish into her own person and help her achieve her goals.

He's stiff with the kids' ingame, easily annoyed, and only humours their conversations if it's someone extremely polite like Capella.

Ingame, Daniil rarely mentions his family. You don't know what kind of parents he had, and judging by his university years of carrying a pistol around and even stealing samples to aid in his research when he hasn't earned the doctor title yet, it's not hard to figure out he may not have been close to his parents, let alone his father.

With their expectations set on him since a young age to become a "conqueror" and join the military, there is a big chance he came from a military family set in traditions. How his pursuit to become a healer rather than a fighter might have been deemed a sign of weakness by them, especially for a "man" at that time period.

Maybe they didn't view knowledge as an equal to power, a Bachelor's degree at that time period was the second highest degree you could ever get from a university. Daniil not only succeeded in his field but founded a while research lab, became nationwide famous, and made everyone who ever doubted him eat their words.

Powered by spite and the need to prove his parents wrong. That's why he's so insistent on doing the opposite as a parent, to show his child unconditional love and support no matter what their dream is.

Otherwise, he doesn't take them or their dreams seriously, much like his parents probably met his dreams to "defeat death" with scepticism and doubt.

If Daniil Dankovsky had a child, any child. He will always take them seriously, be their confidante, and never dissmiss their goals or passions as mere "kid's imagination" or a phase.

Even if his child didn't turn out smart or exceptional, even if they struggled with the most basics and were quite behind others their age.

Daniil would never belittle them or even suggest they should give up, he'd double his efforts to connect with them, to try different methods and teach them that no matter how unfair and cruel life is, you must keep trying.

#♧Daniil #♧x reader #♧fluff

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