#Perfect atrophy

[shivroy]

future shiv

[b0mblover]

Hate, in Every Sense of the Word.

By: J

major tws for; suicide mention, domestic abuse, abuse, sexual assult mention, murder mention, (really just alot of violence tbh) self harm mention

uh, sorry? that theres so many tws, ig also minor tw for mention of sex too.

uh haha i uh, can you tell what happened tonight? it wasnt even the worst one, just, im tired of it.

talk abt living out of spite bc mannnn, thats all i been going off of for a good while now!

i uh, i really wanna make a certain food bc um. (LOOK I WANNA MAKW A LESS OILY FUCKER OKAY) but my father is awake meaning my mother will be too soon but im scared to even go out of my room bc theyre prob gonna fighttt.

hhhrbd okok ill shut up for now, go ahead and read the angry jirou bullshit ig 😭

(oh yea, if it wasn’t obvious. im talking about my mother in this.)

——————————

yknow,

you havent been a great person

or a good one even.

yet you still question as to why i dont love you

or like you,

maybe you have an idea of how much i hate you.

maybe not

i dont really care about your feelings.

at all.

not now.

i put up with this for fucking 14 years.

my entire fucking life.

ive put up with your shit.

but now?

now im done.

you have no idea how badly you fucked up.

when he said that “im sorry im a fuck up” 

yknow.

he mightve not been right for what he did.

but,

it was just a mistake.

it was a goddamn mistake.

you have any idea how many times ive uttered those words too?

how many times ive repeated them?

how many times i fucking meant it?

just because you “had it bad” doesnt mean shit to me.

you have no goddamn right to treat others the same way.

dont give me that “i dont know how else to act!”

bullshit.

bullshit you dont.

you treated your damn boyfriend just fine!

you had a goddamn kid

you had two goddamn children.

with this man that you fucking DESPISE.

you knew it back then too.

you told me you did.

you fucking told me.

almost nothing can compare to the anger i feel to you right now.

nothing.

you have no right to act like that.

no.

you have no goddamn right to hit another fucking living being.

for such a simple mistake.

i dont care if he talked about it since friday.

i dont give a fuck if he talked about it for months.

you.

you as a goddamn human.

have no right.

none.

in the slighest.

to hit another living being.

for talking about something in your eyes “too much”

or making a mistake.

youre a hypocrite.

need i remind you?

you said that after you broke up with the man you were having an affair with.

that youd be a better person.

stop the fights.

stop the beatings.

stop all of it.

and everything would be okay!

.

i didn’t believe you for a goddamn millisecond.

youre a liar.

just how you said i was.

you didnt quit.

you didnt stop.

hell two months after you hit him again!

you threatened to kill him and yourself!

cmon.

dont you get it yet?

i fucking despise you.

maybe to a degree i feel shocked.

but.

i really dont think thats it.

youre the root of my problems.

every single last fucking one.

——————

need i remind you as how i had to learn to cook, because you were too busy with your damn boyfriend to help me?

.

need i remind you how when i tried to show you that i was fucking cutting myself when i was 9 you only talked about how it looked ugly?

.

need i remind you about how many times you said that you didnt care if i hurt myself as long as no one can see it?

.

need i remind you about how you ignored the rope burn on my neck god knows how many times?

.

need i remind you how you denied fucking multiple peoples sexual assault because “it couldntve been like that”?

.

need i remind you of how many times i almost had to be hospitalized because of your neglect?

.

need i remind you of how many nights i spent alone, in the cold, in the dead of winter, just because you wanted to fuck your boyfriend?

.

need i remind you of what you yelled at me so many times?

.

need i remind you of what i seen?

.

need i remind you of how many times you blamed your abusive behaviors on medication?

.

need i fucking remind you of my entire purpose?

.

i dont care about your feelings anymore.

i gave up years ago.

but now.

i dont feel just numb for you.

i hate you.

in every sense of the word.

.

i dont care of what you or anyone else thinks of me.

.

i dont care about what you think of my appearance.

.

i dont care if you think im too thin or fat or whatever word youll use next.

.

i dont care about what you think because you’ll hate me no matter what.

.

you thought id stop being xxxx when you broke up with him.

you yelled at me.

no.

you fucking screamed at me for weeks.

im tired of even putting in the slighest effort of acting as if i fucking care.

i dont give a fuck about you.

and yknow?

if.

no.

if it would work.

if it was possible.

id fucking kill you.

id stab you.

right here.

right now.

to end my suffering.

to end his suffering.

all of it.

id end it all.

i dont care if its wrong.

because i know no one else knows about whats going on.

yknow.

only one person around here knows what youve done to him and me.

and i havent even met her in person.

yknow.

the people i used to be close with from school.

only just learned you had an affair.

i know that.

the police are do-less.

since you know them.

and hes a man.

not a woman.

it wouldnt be taken seriously.

that he should just fight back.

yknow.

youve ruined what life he has left.

his parents beat him.

his ex wife beat him, and cheated on him.

and here.

youve done the exact same thing.

yknow.

he’ll never get to see how love truely is.

because of you.

because of what youve done.

i cant say i really like him either.

but.

that doesnt give you the right to ruin his life.

.

yknow whats worse?

how i know the only reason that so far youve never dared to lay a finger on me.

is because ive proved that i won’t hesitate to beat the fuck out of you right back.

i know i joke about that night.

but.

really.

hitting you for doing that was the best decision i couldve made.

its kept me safer than i wouldve been for years. 

and even now.

if you were to as so much to touch me.

while in a fight.

id do it all over again.

you maybe 100 pounds heavier than me.

but you dont know how to fight against someone who wont just sit there and take it.

i wont forgive you for what youve done.

even if he will.

.

i want nothing to do with you.

get out of my life for good.

[misctf]

Exploring the Tribes

“Dude! Way too much info.” Jeff made a face of disgust and took another swig of his beer, “I’m all for “love is love”, but I don’t wanna hear about your uhhh...”

“Look dude, it’s about time I get to brag. I’ve nearly fucked all the tribes on Grindr. On this vacation alone, bro.” Connor replied, “You and the rest of the guys get to brag about all the pussy you get, why can’t I...?”

“Damn I don’t know man. It��s just...” Jeff adjusted his cap and chugged the rest of his beer, “We’re on vacation with the rest of the bros. Of course we’re gonna talk about our scores.” Jeff smirked- with a body like his, he was scoring well, “I don’t doubt you’re getting plenty of dick. I just don’t want to hear about it.”

“Yeah, and I didn’t want to hear about that time you banged my sister, but here we are.”

Jeff smirked as he recounted the memory, “She has a great rack...” Connor punched his arm, “Fair I deserved that.”

“And I’m a top. I don’t take dick.”

“Whatever dude, can’t you just enjoy the beer?” Jeff sighed, “Besides, what the fuck is a tribe anyway?”

Connor chuckled, “Shit, I forget we make it complicated. It’s a way to describe gay guys. Well, at least their looks.” Jeff nodded, his mind drifting elsewhere, “Like, a bear is a hairy heavyset guy. A twink is usually more feminine and hairless. Like you.”

“Fuck off dude. Girls like it when my muscles are clean shaven.” Jeff shot back.

“Joking, you’re too muscular to be a twink.” Connor replied, “But dude, stay on topic. I’m so close to having fucked a guy in each tribe on this trip. Like just a few more. But I’ve had a really hard time finding an otter.”

Jeff chuckled, “That some kinda weird animal shit?”

“No, otters are like bears, but a lot skinnier.” Connor replied.

“And you want to hook up with one of these guys?” Jeff raised an eyebrow, “Skinny and hairy. What kinda guy would want that?” He flexed one of his biceps and grinned.  

“Well yeah, gotta complete the quest.” Connor shrugged, “But I haven’t come across one since we’ve been here.”

“Oh yeah?” Jeff chuckled, “I have a deal for you. If I find you an otter, you gotta stop talking to me about this shit for the rest of the trip.”

Connor laughed, “Yeah, okay bro.”

“No seriously. I’m a great wingman! Remember Chet and that sorority girl with the slutty tattoo? That was all me, bro.”

“Alright dude. I’ll play.” Connor chuckled, “And how are you going to find this otter?”

Jeff shrugged, “Hairy and slim. Fuck dude, I’ll find ‘em in no time.”

Connor smirked and slapped his friend on the back, “Well I appreciate it, dude. But I think I’ve already found one.”

“No fucking way man, where?” Jeff asked, looking around the bar.

“You can’t miss him. He’s pretty slim.”

Jeff continued to look around, barely noticing as his muscles started to deflate. It started in his legs- his well sculpted calves becoming thin and petite. He inadvertently put a hand on his abs as he felt his muscle twist and contract, just before they deflated, leaving his toned abdomen flat. Connor smirked as he watched Jeff’s pecs follow suit- the muscle behind them atrophying at an alarming rate.  

“I’ll miss those.” Connor chuckled.

“What was the dude?”

“Nothing man.” Connor watched as Jeff seemed to shorten as his back muscles shrunk into nothingness, “You haven’t noticed him yet?” He watched as Jeff’s muscular arms thinned out- years of training at the gym gone within just a few minutes.

“No I haven’t.” Jeff chuckled, “You sure you’re not seeing things, bro?”

“No, he’ right there.” Connor insisted.

Jeff’s eyes narrowed and he stood up to try and get a better view. But he wasn’t used to his new frame and nearly fell over as he tried to balance himself, “Fuck dude, I need to lay off the drinks.” Jeff looked at his skinnier arms, staring at them closely. Connor sipped his drink, watching Jeff trying to make sense of it, “Shit... dude... I...I look small?”

“No way, I think you look perfect the way you are.” Connor said, guiding Jeff back to his chair. Jeff blushed at his friend’s touch.

“Sh-shit dude.” Jeff shook his head, “I uh...” Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t this skinny. As he looked closer at himself, he felt he was missing something. His pecs, his arms, his abs, “Fuck Connor, dude something is...”

“Dude stop distracting me! I’m trying to find that otter I was telling you about.” Connor smirked, “He has to be one of the hairiest guys I’ve seen.”

Jeff felt nauseous. With a grunt, he felt his skin come alive. It burned, only to be replaced by an itchiness that seemed to originate from each follicle of his clean-shaven skin. Relief came suddenly, but was short-lived. He watched with terrified eyes as hair emerged from the top of his bathing suit and traveled up his abdomen. The dark brown hair sprouting from his skin was curly and thick, moreso than anything he ever grew naturally. And as it climbed up his abdomen, thickening rapidly, it finally reached his pecs where it spread like wildfire.

“Ahhhhh.” Jeff moaned as he felt the hair climb around his ass and move up his back. Simultaneously, Jeff raised his hand to feel the thick beard forming along his face, “Connor, what the fuck?” He breathed out, sweat washing over his body and dampening his new fur. Connor grinned, yanking a clump of Jeff’s new arm hair.

“Dude, what’s the matter? You’re distracting me.” Connor complained, “Damn, if only you could see this otter now.” Jeff tensed as Connor rubbed a hand through the dense forest on his chest, “What did you say about guys who wear earrings?” Jeff winced in pain as his ears were stretched and two gauges embedded into his ear lobes, “Oh and remember that sorority girl? What did you say about her tattoos again?” Jeff winced again as tattoos carved themselves into his arms and legs, “And shit, what kinda guy would wear a speedo like that?” Jeff looked down at the yellow speedo that now barely covered his junk and hairy ass, “Oh right- according to you, those things would make someone gay and slutty, right?” Jeff’s eyes widened, “So I guess this otter I’m seeing must be a massive gay slut.”

“Wait! Connor! Please...” Jeff’s mouth went slack and his eyes widened as his brain was rewritten. His love for tits quickly vanished- replaced by a love for a man’s touch and dick, “Please... I...” Jeff winced as he remembered the best way to suck a man’s cock. A strategy that always got his hookup to cum, “I’m not...” His gym routine vanished from his brain. Cardio and squats. All to help keep his ass as fuckable as possible, “Connor...” Jeff felt himself fall forward, and for brief moment everything went dark. But when he opened his eyes, he found himself being supported by the strong arm of the man sitting across from him.

“Yo, you good?” Jeff looked up at the muscular man in front of him and grinned.

“All good hun!” Jeff giggled, tracing his hand along the man’s muscular arm. Fuck, how’d he get so lucky to find this stud?, “But I think I should lie down for bit.”

“I have a place in mind.” The man said with a grin.

“Oh yeah big guy?” Jeff leaned in and placed a hand against the man’s pec, “I need you to take me there. Right now.” He breathed. The man grinned and the two left the bar, walking quickly back to the man’s room, “My name is Jeffrey by the way.”

“Connor.” Connor replied, as the two entered the bedroom.

Jeffrey grinned as Connor threw him onto the bed. Clothes were quickly discarded. And soon, moans filled the empty room.

______________________________________________________________

Jeff groaned as he pushed himself out of bed, ‘Fuck,’ he thought, seeing the time on his phone, ‘I must’ve gotten wasted.’

His whole body ached, especially his ass. Probably fell on it while he was drunk, he figured. He wobbled to the bathroom and stared in the mirror- taking in his muscular frame and clean-shaven form. He smirked- even feeling like shit he still had his looks. He opened his phone to take a pic and cringed.

“What the fuck?” He whispered, “Who the fuck is that?” He stared at the newest saved picture in his phone. A hairy, slim man, “An otter...” He whispered.

There was a sudden knock at his door and he groaned. Shuffling over, he opened it to find Connor.

“Dude what’s up?” Connor chuckled, “Quite the night last night.”

 “Yeah, really? Fuck dude, I drank way too much. Check this out.” He showed Connor the picture, causing his friend to laugh, “I don’t know how it got on here.”

“You don’t remember?” Connor laughed, “Before you left, we took a whole bunch of selfies.”

Jeff groaned, “Hope he didn’t think I’d be into that.” He chuckled, “Shoot your shot, I guess.” He deleted the photo, “So I take it the night was successful?”  

Connor smirked, “Oh it was.” He winked. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing him again soon. He was begging for more.”

“Gross dude.” Jeff chuckled, “So is that it? Done with the quest?”

“Close dude, very close. Just a few more tribes left.” Connor grinned. Jeff felt a shiver run down his spine. He looked at Connor, a feeling of fear and excitement welling up from within the deepest part of his psyche, “So, wanna grab a drink?”

Jeff shrugged, “Sure, dude.”  

[gunpowderdtim]

It's no wonder Out happened when you really think about it. Nastya doesn't like organic life because it's complicated, it can break, sometimes it's even unfixable.

quote from gender rebels

Nastya is in love with Aurora, and in saying that she is saying "you are not organic life, I can deal with you because you are metal and algorithm and predictable" - we can see this in bedtime story when she says she'll tweak Aurora's story creation algorithm

screenshot from A Bedtime Story

Aurora is not inorganic. She is not ai. She is a space moon made of flesh and blood and teeth and bone. She is not an ai. She is a body that was taken and stripped of autonomy, of the right to self identify, of the right to think- to be imperfect and organic.

The metal is a veneer that hides how messy and traumatized and unfixable she is. From the outside she is a starship. From the inside she can still bleed.

And this makes them fundamentally incompatible. But yet, they are in love.

And really, it's no wonder Nastya fell in love with Aurora. Let's take a look at Nastya's home planet, or at least home society:

"Terminals were scattered across the planet. There was one on every street corner, one beneath every lamppost and one in every commune block." "The midwife-machine performs a series of programmed manœuvres to quieten [the baby]. It cradles it and hums at several pitches until it finds one that seems most soothing. Mechanical arms stroke the baby’s flesh even as others start the process of implanting augmented reality interfaces into its nervous system." "The Czar an atrophied frame, never present in the real world and worn to dust by the chemical compounds that kept his brain alive so it could live forever in a perfect virtual paradise. The Rabotnik a copy, a mind preserved unchanging in the instant before its death and placed in an everlasting metal frame." (Cyberian Demons)

Its safe to say the world Nastya was born into, from the very minute she was born, was ridden with technology. She has augmented reality interfaces inplanted into her from birth. It would stand to reason that being taken from this society, wherein technology is everywhere, inside and out, would stand for a bit of a shock.

Aurora too had been augmented by the Cyberia.

While it is stated that the last time Nastya had used the ports themselves was directly before her death — "The last time she had used the ports, her tutor had ripped them out of her as the rebels stormed the palace" — Aurora is laced with Cyberian technology. I'd imagine she has something of a 'bluetooth wireless connection' with Aurora, rather than the physical data transfer of files between the ports and Nastya, it may as well be similar enough.

Imagine being Nastya, going from Cyberia, wherein there is augmented reality contantly, transplanted onto a ship with metal blood, a jonny, and a vampire. To Aurora, where the only bits of augmented reality run through Aurora.

Of course she'd fall in love with her. Aurora is familiarity. Aurora isn't organic. Aurora isn't human.

And of course when the undeniable part of aurora that is organic, that is a flesh moon plated in metal with her brain hooked to machines, when so much has broken and been replaced, when, presumably, aurora is less of an algorithm, nastya leaves with the brand cyberia left on her.

Because Aurora healing, becoming more of herself and less of a starship, is messy, and organic, and human.

and hard for nastya.

‘Think how long she’s been flying you around. Think how many bullet holes you’ve punched through her and how many atmospheres you’ve dropped her through. Think how many alterations and improvements we’ve made, Tim to her guns and Ashes to her storage and Brian to her engines and the Toy Soldier to who knows what. How much do you think is left of her after all she’s brought you through?’ Nastya held up the ancient, battered piece of hull plating. Just visible under the grime and scars of particles of space junk was a fragment of the Aurora’s original logo and serial number. Jonny honestly couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a version that hadn’t been painted by the Mechanisms themselves. ‘So she’s free, now.’ Nastya gestured around at the spaceship they were standing in. ‘This Aurora can take you where you want to go. I’m going to take my Aurora somewhere else.’

Aurora was ship of theseus'd. Aurora was improved. Aurora was no longer cyberian. (both literally, and metaphorically)

So nastya left.

[fatlifeshortlife]

Dehumanized.

A trophy. An atrophied slab of fat, physically and mentally defeated. Incapable of escaping this existence, your best efforts a trivial motion in the sea of your own crippling obese body.

You live to be enjoyed. You live to be seen, experienced, a fleeting plaything. I want to nothing more than to take everything away from you, and create the perfect plaything for myself. To twist your form, and bloat your body, until it is a sculpture of distended folds and formless fats. Buried, the image of your past self a vague memory you hopefully won’t be able to comprehend.

I will treat you like you deserve to be treated. Tying you down, locking you away, and fattening you until there’s no way for you to exist without me. Until you exist because of me. As mentally malleable and soft as your body will be.

Atop your padded mattress you’ll reside, a spotlight harshly overcast to emphasize how distended and fat-filled you’ve become. Your world extending only as far as your hands can reach, a new fold of fat. I’ll be there, admiring, of the trophy I’ll have created.

[physalian]

10 Character Dynamics the World Needs More of

Me handing out character dynamics like free samples at the Mall Food Court: “Take one! Or two! You’ll love it!”

I don’t care how many times these tropes have been done – write more of them. Write all of them. Fill out your author bingo card one by one.

1. “No one gets to kill you but me, Old Friend”

This. Right here. Primo rival content that I *live* for. All the juicy history between two old frenemies, the character drama, the backstory, the titillating unknown of what drove these two to rival status, bitter enemies that respect the heck out of each other, to the point that hell hath no fury should one get knocked down without the other’s consent.

And, of course, the moment where it seems all bets are off, when the rival comes to save their ass only to hand it back to them at a later date. The angst! The shipping fodder! Need I say more?

2. A bigger, badder villain, and their minion

You, reader, spend countless hours hating the guts of the big bad villain. They’re evil, they’re vile, they’re sadistic, heartless, irredeemable bastards. They killed your favorite character for shock value. The big bad moustache-twirling antagonist… is actually not the biggest fish in the story.

Either they’re coerced into doing evil as a puppet of the Bigger Bad, a tragic villain in their own right, or they have some reservation, some line even they won’t cross, someone else’s boots they have to kiss, someone who features in their nightmares, as they feature in the heroes. They end their stories dispatched without a thought by the Bigger Bad, or redeem themselves in death by taking out their masters. It never gets old.

3. A leader and their lancer: besties

You know what’s better than leaders and lancers who have zero faith in each other and are constantly bickering about who should be in charge? Leaders and their right-hands who adore each other (platonically). They have each other’s backs, they know each other’s greatest strengths and weaknesses and are each other’s perfect covers.

They can communicate with looks and vague gestures alone, they compliment each other’s flaws and misgivings, build up the rest of the team when they’re down on their luck, and should misfortune strike either, they pull out all the stops and show off exactly why they’re not to be trifled with, so that even the villain is afraid.

4. “I don’t even know who you are”

Oh, but you will. This one twists the knife, robbing the avenging hero of the importance in this world they’re desperate to maintain. They are their own hero, the sun revolves around them… but not to this one asshat that ruined their life and doesn’t even remember doing it.

An entire identity built upon the finding, fighting, and overcoming of this wrongdoer, every other goal in life cast aside for this one impossibility. Either the villain toys with the hero to make them irate, or gets suckerpunched by some pissant fueled by vengeance and spite and divine purpose to dole justice where justice is due.

6. The jaded badass and their naive ward

If the last 8 years of media is anything to go by, we still love this trope, whether it’s in a galaxy far, far away or a fungi-zombie post-apocalypse, or in the twilight hours of an era of legendary mutants. The best part of this trope? You get two often contradictory character types in one body. The pessimist, PTSD-ridden master of old with no living friends left and at least one dead love interest *and* beneath all that, still lies an atrophied heart of gold just waiting to be nurtured and revived.

The naive ward gets a hard lesson in how crappy the world can be, but also in how there’s still some goodness left, if their guardian cares about them. The jaded badass in turn, learns how good the world can be, that there’s something still worth fighting for beyond the next bottom of a bottle.

6. The enemy of my enemy (is my friend)

Similar to the “old friends”, this trope is often a result of the minioned Big Bad realizing they don’t want to be evil anymore. Or, bitter old rivals, sides of a war that have been fighting for generations, ideological polar opposites, fundamental polar opposites all come together when: Some evil schmuck managed to scare them both.

Doesn’t matter on what shaky ground this temporary alliance is built, or how long it lasts, equally-competent badasses on both sides finally work together and compliment each other’s strengths, and compensate for their weaknesses, in a way their teammates never could.

7. The irredeemable villain’s only wholesome connection

Not so irredeemable anymore, now are they? This trope messes with your head, taking a character you know has done heinous acts of terror, but who cares unflinchingly, unabashedly, about one thing – either their lover, their pet, their relative, or their kid.

This exists independently of the heroes and is not the same as an “oops I guess I’m your father” reveal. I’m talking this character who everyone is convinced cares about nothing and no one but themselves and their ambition still has a place in their soul for something they want to protect, they want to be loved by, or that they must spare from their atrocities.

8. Platonic Heterosexual Friendships

These two have seen each other at their most vulnerable. They’ve shared fears, dreams, desires, know each other’s deepest, darkest secrets. They’ve seen each other exhausted, frazzled, dressed up, dressed down, bloodied and broken and like a raw, open nerve. These two would die for each other, they would live for each other, and yet.

They’re not in love with each other. They’re wholly comfortable in each other’s spaces without lust and desire mucking up the atmosphere. Neither is the one, neither wants to be the one. They remain together not for the bonds of romance, but for the bonds of friendship, and nothing could be stronger.

10. The Ace and their best friend, the Self-Proclaimed Slut

These two respect the f*ck out of each other. One never mocks the other for lacking desire and in return, they’re never mocked for their promiscuity. They’ll never walk in each other’s shoes, but they don’t need to, to understand that’s just how some people are. They’re each other’s safest spaces when the world doesn’t take either of them seriously.

They’re each other’s biggest defenders against the bullies, presumers, the holier-than-thous who think they have it all figured out. They’re the perfect compliment to give advice on everything from relationships to the best outfits for an outing because there’s *zero sexual tension* between them. Or, maybe, if the stars align, they’re something more.

10. The redeeming villain, and their staunchest skeptic

This villain has lost everything – their home, the respect of their people, their worth, their evil ambition, their identity, and has begun working their way up from rock bottom doing everything in their power to show the heroes that they’re serious. They make amends, they break their bones proving themselves, they’ve swayed everyone they’ve wronged in the hero camp.

Except one. The one character that was probably their first defender, and got burned for it. The character that was naive enough to think this villain could be saved, and was wrong. The character that won’t be duped again without some serious drama and soul-bearing between them.

Now tell me which ones I missed!

[pussybxy]

Forced masc where someone injects me with T but also puts estrogen cream in my pussy to prevent atrophy because we can't have the T messing up such a perfect little fuck hole

[hillbillyoracle]

So you can't get out of bed...

This is a resource list for all those who are having trouble getting out of bed. Whether that's because of injury, disability, or mental health, this collection of resources should help address some of the common pain points I've experienced over the years. Some will require modification if truly bedbound but my hope is this sparks ideas and gives you a place to start.

A warning: this is a *long* post. I went for thoroughness over brevity so people had options where possible.

Food

This video from Sarah McGlory of Adaptive Cleaning details her system.

It is excellent. I have a similar bin to her first in my room for high pain and low mood days. Prioritize high fiber and high protein shelf stable foods. Make sure electrolytes and water are within easy reach.

If grocery trips are too much, it's worth looking into pick up or delivery. In my experience, the delivery services through stores are better than Instacart and the like. The retailer who must not be named also has a great snack selections that hold up pretty well in transit.

Fruit + veggie pouches, baked chips, and RXBars are some of my favorites to keep on hand.

Clean Space

This video from KC Davis of Struggle Care details her "Five Things Tidying Method".

If you can't tidy your whole space, focus on the walkways. Make sure you have a walkway to your bedroom door, to your front door (or other way to leave your house), to the bathroom, and to the kitchen or where you store food.

Another tip from KC Davis - if you're struggling to get your plates back to the kitchen before they stick or attract bugs, get gallon sized plastic bags and seal the plates inside of them. You can always wash and reuse them once you've delivered it safely to your sink or dishwasher. When you're just surviving, it's just as okay to toss them after.

Bonus: This no-mess method of decluttering from Dana K. White is low energy friendly. You can stop whenever and your space is still better.

Hygiene

This post details my care kit that I use.

If you're unable to shower regularly, I'd add in some baby wipes. Yours probably won't look exactly like mine but I hope it can be a jumping off point. If I could only pick two items, it'd be the disposable toothbrushes and a good facial lotion (since it can also be used on the body). If you can't bare to change your clothes, just change your underwear. This helps prevent health issues down the road.

Movement

Arm Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 min]

Core Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 Min]

Leg Workout in Bed: [3 Min] [5 Min] [10 Min]

Yoga in Bed: [Morning] [Anytime] [Evening]

Stretching: [5 Min] [10 Min]

If you're able to stand + move but not up for leaving your room, then Rick Bhullar's walking workouts are great in a small space.

For a long time, I thought that you could only get exercise by getting dressed in specific clothes and going outside or to a gym. Now I know that there are lots of options for getting a little movement in bed. Even a short 3 min workout a day can help decrease muscle atrophy. Don't let perfect be the enemy of good enough.

Bonus: I also just walk laps around my room/apartment. You don't have to go outside. It can get a little boring sure. But quick 5-10 min walking breaks through out the day add up.

Spirituality

This is ultimately going to be specific to you and your tradition. Even if you are not religious at all taking a moment to think about your bigger picture values is important. Since my core spiritual path is Buddhism, here are some recommendations in that vein. I could not find good links for all of these. I don't necessarily do all of these everyday but I try to do a few.

Three Refuges by Plum Village

The Five Precepts by Access to Insight

The Five Remembrances on Wikipedia

Chanting Om Mani Padme Hum

Chanting Namo'valokiteshvara

Reciting the Heart Sutra

Bonus: A pagan practice I enjoy is reciting the hymns to the planet of the day. Offering water and incense is great but optional. Praying to and thanking ancestors and land spirits is also a great practice.

Alternatives to Social Media

It's easy to get stuck in the black hole of scrolling. It's good to have something enjoyable to pivot to.

Cozy Games

My favorites are Stardew Valley, Wingspan, and Animal Crossing. The first two aren't terribly expensive. A lower cost alternative to Animal Crossing would be Cozy Grove which regularly goes on sale. Sims can be cozy as well - minus any pool shenanigans.

Slowly

This is an app that allows you to send messages but delivers them on a delay based on how far away you are from someone. It makes it fairly easy to find penpals though, as with anything, it can be hit or miss. I've even convinced a few of my irl friends to try it and write them little letters on there. The delay makes receiving them more special. It's a great way to play letter writing rpgs with friends. I'm currently using it to play Grandpa's Farm with my partner.

750 Words

Ever wished you could do morning pages digitally? That's what 750 words started out as being but you can ultimately use it however you want. Some people use it to hit word counts on their writing projects. I'm a fan of using it to brain dump and then micro journal. It does cost a small fee after 30 days but it's by far been worth it to me.

FeederWatch

Getting outside - even if it's just for 5 minutes - once a day is a great goal. But if you can't, take a break and watch one of these feeder streams for a while. Even just seeing images of the outdoors, is calming. I sometime throw this up on one screen while I'm playing a cozy game or doing some non-screen activities.

Screen Breaks

We all know it's important to take screen breaks - but it's extra important to do it when you're in bed and you're screens are a big part of how you spend your day. Below are some of my favorite ways to take a break. 10 minutes every two hours or 20 minutes every three hours can make a big difference.

Postcrossing or writing letters to friends

Solo RPGs - here are some of mine, here's a D&D example

Free adult coloring pages

Read a Book - reading challenge, get personalized recommendations

Play a solitaire card game - there are so damn many now

Walk around for 5-10 minutes, bonus if it's outside.

Volunteer

One of the big feelings that come up for me when I'm mostly in bed is that I feel like a burden to others. Rather than trying to "be productive" I've found it's much better to try to positively contribute to others even if it's in small ways - sending a text to someone remembering/thanking them for something kind they did for me, ordering a little present for someone I know who's had a rough time, sending a card to someone who has a birthday coming up. The little stuff really helps people.

If you don't have many people in your life like that to help or you'd like to help some strangers too here are some other options.

Sigma Phi Eta

This is a 100% online and free greek service org I'm trying to get off the ground. 3 hours of service to become a pledge which count towards the 10 needed to become a member. 10 hours each year to stay active. We maintain an updated list of online/distanced volunteer opportunities as we find them. We have service awards for those who want to go above and beyond. Plus once you're a member you can wear our letters.

We're small right now but if you want a group of people to talk service and grow with - come join us!

Letters Against Isolation

LAI is probably my favorite charity I volunteer for. Volunteers write cards and letters to people in nursing homes, assisted living, and those connected to senior centers through Meals on Wheels and other programs. They're always adding new facilities so the need is always growing. They have facilities in multiple countries they write to and could use people who speak another language especially.

Warm Up America

Mostly for crocheters and knitters - this org accepts donations of all kinds of patterns and distributes them to smaller projects and charities who otherwise wouldn't be able to access these kind of goods at scale. I've made a few things for them - simple hats - and greatly enjoyed the process. Great use for your cheaper acrylic yarns.

7 Cups

I've had a mixed experience with 7 Cups. I really have enjoyed my experiences chatting with people on there but it can be really hit or miss as to whether I feel like I've helped people. There's also the usual people who try to use any chat service for sex. That aside, I still think their training is pretty good and it can feel meaningful when you're able to connect with someone who's not doing so hot.

Checklist

Have you cleaned yourself + changed clothes? [ ]

Have you tended to your spirituality? [ ]

Have you fed yourself? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you tended to your space? [ ]

Have you gotten some movement in? [ ]

Have you taken a social media break? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you taken a screen break? [ ] [ ] [ ]

Have you volunteered or done something nice for another person? [ ]

[azol-otl]

Just a silly little jaytim involving never died! Jason's big fat crush on his new friend.

Jason twirls in front of Babs again in case her Oracle eyes see something that he's missed. He worked hard on this, and he'd die of mortification if he there was a mistake he hadn't seen. He won't lie, he's kind of nervous about tonight. It's been...awhile since he's gone to do something social beyond school (and boy doesn't that make him sound like a loser) and he thinks he might have gotten a little too overenthusiastic about it. Well, Dick said it was fine but even after the coma Dick's only here every once in a blue moon and Jason isn't sure if he should take Dick's advice to heart when the man's been running around in tights since the day he was born. Plus Jason still remembers that Dick is a lying liar who lies when he thinks something would be funny or was trying to cover his ass. (Yes, he still holds that mask acne incident against him! Barbie laughed at him, Dick! Sure he now has photo evidence of Pizza Face Grayson, but still!) Everything fits him perfectly despite that last second growth spurt that finally started showing up. A tiny thing, barely an inch but it was enough to finally push him past 5ft so he's happy. His tunic fits perfectly and the stitching has an Alfred seal of approval. His armor is light, the leather looks good despite being made from old scraps of Bruce and Dick's outgrown clothes that have too much wear and tear to pass down. The cape swishes just the way he remembers, though a deep red instead of canary yellow. He decided against only tights by wearing some sturdy shorts over them, like an adventurer would, everything color matched for the time period. He looks up at Babs who's giving him a bemused look and he puffs out his chest indigently. "What?" he says tersely. "Nothing nothing," comes the amused sing song, the kind she gets when she's teasing Dick. "I just didn't expect this to be the result of introducing you to online gaming." Jason's cheeks warm but he has nothing to be ashamed of. Sure he's become...a geek after the accident. But he has friends, like actual friends close to his age that go to his school and not just co-workers six years older than him or a penpal from across the country. Plus Jason can admit he was a nerd before becoming a combo nerd/geek so it's not like his reputation took a hit. "Nothing wrong with immersion," he says. Babs gives him a wry grin. "Nothing wrong with impressing Tim you mean?"

And Jason couldn't even be mad at Barbie about that because she's absolutely right. Tabletop was Tim's thing, and Jason was excited to try it out, but it was absolutely a new thing for him. All of this was new to Jason. After being stuck with nothing but a computer for months on end any social skills Jason might have had have atrophied and what little that remains has made Jason the picture perfect geek. And he really didn't want to screw up this friendship when it was the lifeline that Jason used to actually talk to people in real life and not in front of a screen. Well, people that aren't maladjusted larpers punching criminals. "Seriously Barbie, does it look good? I don't wanna embarrass myself," Jason mumbles. This time Barbara does laugh and its just as embarrassing as the last time. "Ah, what's the world come to. Robin, the boy wonder himself, worried that he's going to embarrass his best friend in front of his Wizards and Warlocks group," she says wiping an imaginary tear from her eye. "It's Trailblazer," Jason says automatically, already having corrected Bruce, Dick, and Alfred about this for weeks. Barbara starts laughing again and Jason resists the urge to stomp out like a child. It wouldn't be dramatic anyhow, he isn't wearing shoes and he refuses to stomp in his fantasy footwear that's basically just a metal band around his arch for support. Once she stops laughing she finally takes pity on Jason. "You look fine Little Bird. I don't see anything sticking out, and the outfit looks amazing. Your little fey prince character is gonna knock it out of the park," she says and Jason feels warm enough that he doesn't even correct her that he's a halfling-changeling and not a fey anything, much less a prince.

 That warmth stays with him until he's in front of Tim's door. It's then that he thinks that maybe going all out was a terrible idea. He knows that some people dress up, but it isn't like a mandatory thing. And Tim didn't say anything about needing to dress up for Jason's first tabletop night. But Jason had been so excited. Tim didn't even finish his invitation before Jason already had a dozen designs scrambling in his head and started creating a character piece by piece. He was dragging out knowledge he hasn't touched since he was Robin. Fashion design, historical trends, and how to use them to create something tangible with the sewing lessons he had begged Alfred for back when he wanted to learn every practical skill he could. In case he got dropped like a sack of steaming shit. Crap what if they think Jason's a nerd? He had read that Traiblazer book cover to cover and made notes like it was a reading assignment! To be authentic to the setting! In case Tim's friend Ives wanted to "Um actually" Jason's meticulously created backstory and full lineage and npcs he built and sent to Tim weeks ago. Shit, maybe Jason's more of a loser than he thought if he thinks a wizards and warlocks group is too cool for him.

 He thinks about calling Alfred to pick him up and make a lie about the campaign being cancelled. Maybe he can persuade Bruce to send him back to public school instead of Gotham Academy. Then he can forget all about Tim and his goofy smile and how he puts his foot in his mouth and how cute he looked when he asked Jason to join in this game because he wanted to share something about himself with— Jason's thoughts are cut off when the door opens. He looks up, eyes wide with anxiety in his stupid changeling halfling outfit without any shoes because he wanted to be authentic. The guy across the doorway was tall, taller than Jason (but who isn't) and taller than Tim (also not an accomplishment), blonde with glasses. "Are you sure this guy's a senior, Tim," he says and Jason has to stop himself from punching out Tim's other friend.

Tim's head then pokes out of the door, funny wizard hat and all and just stares at Jason. For a full minute. It gets awkward fast but neither Jason or the other guy know what to say before Jason takes the plunge. "Hey, I'm Jason, you must be Ives?" he says forcing all his nerves as deep down as he can. Ives nods, "Sebastian Ives, don't call me by my first name." It isn't until introductions are done that Tim comes back online. "Hey! Jason! Wow! Your costume is really good! A changeling right?!" he says loudly, cheeks and ears a bright pink.

[dmsr-art]

The lychtors use necromancy to keep their penises in perfect working order. Harrows penis is weak and soft with years of disuse caused by living as a nun and getting angry as fuck every time she thought about Gideon in a sexual light. The muscles are atrophied from the necromantic disuse imposed on it so she doesnt think about Gideon sexually

JDFHSKFJDJ this reason for harrow's erectile dysfunction is canon.... TO ME!!!!

she was only able to get it up and fuck ianthe within an inch of her life because building the new bone arm was the equivalent of taking viagra on steroids

[dailyadventureprompts]

Adventure: Shadow of the Harvest Moon

Most imagine the shadowfell as a dreadful and dreary place, but there are islands of solace in the underworld, such as the realm of Dwindlehearth which manifests as a pastoral village rendered in an eternal autumn sunset. It is a place where those who were lonely in life find kinship in the folkish festivals put on by the attendant spirits, where those too stubborn to accept the end can work themselves to satisfied exhaustion in the fields before retiring in comfort, and where those never had enough can stay in on a rainy day and enjoy a filling meal by a warm fire. It is a good death, a good afterlife, the sort we would wish for those we loved dearest to allow their memory to fade most gracefully.

But Something is wrong in Dwindlehearth

Rot spreads through the fields and the shades can find no solace, foul things stalk at the edge of dark woods, clouds cover the face of the ember-warm sun and part to reveal a cold and leering moon, too low and with it's own strange, superntatural gravity.

If the dead are to know peace once again, something must be done.

Hooks:

After their latest bout of occupational grave desecration the party are called upon by the deathgod Nerull to help sort things out, whatever's causing the problem is hidden from his sight and he'll forgive them their literal and figurative trespasses if they can root out whatever corruption is twisting his pastoral realm into a nightmare.

Most shades in Dwindlehearth have varying levels of awareness, identities growing hazier the closer they get to moving on. The rot seems to remind them of all their regrets and failings, preserving their worst aspects while the rest of them atrophies. This is to say nothing of when the night descends unexpectedly, and those shades worst affected transform into monsters, or nightmarish hauntings.

Investigating the source of the corruption will prove difficult, but perhaps the party can get the aid of one of the attendant psychopomps ( most of whom are busy fighting the rot and fending off incursions from unseen enemies at the village's border) or by taking inconstant direction to seek out Dwindlehearth's mayor ( a position the psychopomps have no memory of appointing) who turns out to be a still living necromancer resided on an estate that she's transported to the middle of the death god's domain (especially if the party encountered hear early in the campaign). She's willing to help, but only if the party put in a good word for her with Nerull, as she's grown to quite enjoy the surroundigns.

Behind all the problems in Dwindlehearth is Zuggtmoy, demon queen of despair and decay, who saw the pastoral stillness of the village as the perfect place to spread her stagnation. Her influence drives souls to bitter, resentful, remembrance, priming them for transformation into foul minions.

Speaking of Minions, Zuggtmoy's influence was carried to the village by the departed soul of one of her priests, a poet mired in morbid melancholy by the name of Blaine Blackstem, who got one of the psychopomps to carry him over Nerrull's wards. Blaine was never a good poet, but his mistress's gifts and the nightmare landscape have transformed him into a looming scarecrow figure, striding through the fields sowing rot and then taking grisly inspiration as how the souls twist.

A number of Zuggtmoy's other fiendish minions probe the border of Dwindlehearth just waiting for a large enough breach to pour in, Blaine aims to accommodate them by creating an army of pumpkin monsters and setting them lose to overwhelm the psychopomps leaving the village undefended.

Art 1 Art 2 Art 3

[icarusredwings]

GUYS Hozier is feeding the Poolverine community.

I already wrote a fic with Logan and "Nobodys soilder" called Dog tags and now im thinking about doing one with Arsonists Lullaby with wade.

Arsonists Lullaby- Wade Wilson

When I was a child, I heard voices

Some would sing and some would scream

You soon find you have few choices

I learned the voices died with me

When I was a child, I'd sit for hours

Staring into open flame

Something in it had a power

Could barely tear my eyes away

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

When I was 16, my senses fooled me

Thought gasoline was on my clothes

I knew that something would always rule me

I knew the scent was mine alone

All you have is your fire

And the place you need to reach

Don't you ever tame your demons

But always keep 'em on a leash

When I was a man I thought it ended

When I knew love's perfect ache

But my peace has always depended

On all the ashes in my wake.

Just a little rush, babe

Sedated- Logan Howlett

To feel dizzy, to derail the mind of me

Just a little hush, babe

Our veins are busy but my heart's in atrophy

Any way to distract and sedate

Adding shadows to the walls of the cave

You and I nursing on a poison that never stung

Our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it

Somewhere for this, death and guns

We are deaf, we are numb

Free and young and we can feel none of it

Something isn't right, babe

I keep catching little words but the meaning's thin

I'm somewhere outside my life, babe

I keep scratching but somehow I can't get in

So we're slaves to any semblance of touch

Lord we should quit but we love it too much

Sedated we're nursing on a poison that never stung

Our teeth and lungs are lined with the scum of it

Somewhere for this, death and guns

We are deaf, we are numb

Free and young and we can feel none of it

Darlin', don't you, stand there watching, won't you

Come and save me from it

Darlin', don't you, join in, you're supposed to

Drag me away from it

Any way to distract and sedate

Adding shadows to the walls of the cave.

Boys workin' on empty

Work song- Poolverine

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

But the last bit is kinda Logurt coded.

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissin' on my baby

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamp light I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me.

[midnight-glasses]

Can you do Reiji body headcanons, please🙏!!

This headcanon clearly inspired by @/dialovers-lover-xoxo check out her post!

☕ — Since he always wears gloves, Reiji's hands are very soft and smooth when you touch them. Additionally, he always keeps his nails trimmed.

☕ — He doesn't have many body hairs, but where he does, they are located in very specific places and not in abundance. He has a decent amount of hair mainly in the armpits and a bit in the abdomen region, extending down to the pelvis, and a little hair on his legs. They are almost imperceptible, but when you touch them, you can feel them.

☕ — Reiji has a thin torso and waist, but his body is well-toned and even muscular to a certain extent. He has more physical structure than Laito but is not as muscular as Ayato.

☕ — I'll be bold in stating this, but I like to entertain the idea of Reiji having inverted nipples. He tends to be very self-conscious about this and is unlikely to be shirtless around anyone.

☕ — Reiji has an upright and elegant posture, reflecting his refined upbringing and his sense of superiority over his other brothers.

☕ — His hair is tidy and impeccable; when you run your hand through it, you can notice that it's very silky and soft, with an aroma similar to that of fine herbs.

☕ — Reiji's feet are small and elegant, a feature he doesn't particularly like. Perhaps he's a little insecure or overly self-conscious about it, but it adds a certain grace to his overall demeanor.

☕ — He has broad, well-defined shoulders. If he ever allowed himself to wear a tank top, he would look great in it.

☕ — Reiji's skin is smooth and flawless, with hardly any noticeable hair or texture. It feels similar to the skin of a peach when you touch it, smooth and soft like a makeup sponge.

☕ — His fingers are long and agile, perfect for manipulating delicate objects with surgical precision.

☕ — Reiji's legs are long and slender, with an athletic appearance without being overly muscular.

☕ — His eyebrows are thin and well-shaped, curving gently over his eyes. Speaking of his eyes, they are not as feline as Laito's eyes; they are softer, though they narrow when he is angry.

☕ — Reiji has piercing and deep eyes, with irises of a dark hue that tend to shine brightly when he is excited.

☕ — His chin is slightly square.

☕ — Reiji maintains an upright and proud posture, with his torso tilted slightly forward when he is concentrating on something, giving him an air of determination and focus.

☕ — His skin on his arms and forearms is smooth and pale, without visible imperfections. As mentioned earlier, he is not the prime example of physical strength, but one cannot say that his combat abilities are atrophied. He knows how to use his strength and fighting skills when necessary.

☕ — Reiji's ears are not prominent, discreetly framed by his tidy hair, and they lie close to his head.

☕ — His nose is straight and thin, with a slightly upturned tip. The nostrils are defined, and the nose line is smooth and symmetrical

☕ — Reiji's buttocks are subtly defined beneath his clothing. He often opts for loose-fitting clothes that slightly accentuate the curvature of his hips. (I like to think so, again these are just headcanons, don't judge me by the thought)

☕ — Reiji's lips are thin and well-defined. When he smiles, you can notice some dimples appearing on his cheeks.

☕ — His smile is often restrained and calculated, revealing just enough to convey confidence and, occasionally, a sardonic streak of humor. His thin, well-designed lips contribute to the balanced aesthetic of his smile, the dimples in his cheeks only appear when he is very excited and cannot contain himself.

☕ — Reiji's teeth are white and straight, with slightly more pronounced canines.

☕ — Reiji has a gentle expression line between his eyebrows. This line, known as a forehead furrow or “worry lines”, is subtle but noticeable when he is focused or deeply reflecting on something.

☕ — When nervous, he has the habit of sawing his teeth or biting his lower lip, sometimes it is possible to see evidence of this, especially after moments of stress.

☕ — Reiji has a small dark mole on the inner side of his left ring finger, just like his uncle.

☕ — He has a long, slender neck

☕ — Reiji has a subtle scent of woody notes and spices.

☕ — He has a habit of combing his hair with his fingers when he's nervous, he tends to do it in a very ritualistic way.

☕ — In addition to being deep, Reiji's voice is engaging and melodic, captivating the attention of whoever listens.

☕ — When he is thoughtful or concentrated, Reiji may frown slightly or purse his lips.

All my written content is original, however, I do not claim ownership of the characters depicted. ©2024-Present.

[growingstories]

FBI agent Alex

Alex Hayes, a motivated 24-year-old FBI agent, found himself facing an unexpected predicament. It all began in when his obsession with physical fitness led him to the gym, hoping to chisel his body into an enviable specimen of strength. He got frustrated about the slow progress he was making. Alex had heard rave reviews about Eric Mitchell's bars from his fellow gym-goers, boasting that they were the secret ingredient to impeccable gains. Driven by curiosity and an insatiable desire to push his limits, Alex decided to give them a try. Unbeknownst to him, those bars contained a hidden amalgamation of ingredients that would surprisingly lead him down a different path than expected.

The boring hours alone on the road made him eat more of the bars then was recommended. To his shock, instead of transforming into a ripped Adonis, Alex found himself bulking up with an unsightly layer of fat obscuring his once visible abs. This left him torn between his desires for physical perfection and the reality of his new appearance. Struggling to come to terms with his unexpected physical changes, Alex decided to push through, thinking that his gym routine would balance out any unintentional weight gain.

However, fate had different plans for Alex as his grind at the gym gradually came to a halt. A promotion within the FBI thrust him into a stressful office job, forcing him to tackle piles of paperwork and grapple with the bureaucracy of the bureau. The mounting stress led him to seek solace in unhealthy comfort food, which only compounded the issue at hand.

Caught in a vicious cycle of long hours and fast-food lunches, Alex's time for physical activity continued to dwindle. Though he maintained the same food intake, the lack of exercise began taking its toll on his body. As his muscles atrophied and his waistline expanded, he watched with a heavy heart as his definition was replaced by rolls of fat.

Seemingly defeated, Alex embraced an unhealthy sedent lifestyleary further exacerbated by the habits of his colleagues in the FBI, he found himself embracing the dreary existence of his fellow agents. Instead of regular workouts, his days were punctuated by indulging in sugary donuts offered by the office's generous supply.

The crisp lines of Alex's once athletic body had been replaced by softness, a testament to his lack of discipline and commitment. He had not only let himself down but had also abandoned the very ideals that drew him towards a career in law enforcement. Concluding that enough was enough, Alex realized he needed to reclaim his identity as a capable agent.

With renewed determination, he gathered his strength and embarked on a journey to regain control of his life. He traded the monotonous office lunches for healthier alternatives and dusted off his sneakers, promising himself to hit the gym regularly once again. The road ahead was tough, but Alex knew that with perseverance and the will to rise from the ashes, he could reclaim his former glory. And so, armed with a newfound dedication and a burning desire to thrive, Alex set forth on his mission. With each passing day, he slowly chipped away at the layer of fat that had masked his once-toned. physique His colleagues, witnessing his unwavering discipline, began to draw inspiration from his transformation, joining him in his pursuit of a healthier lifestyle.

As the days turned into weeks, and the weeks turned into months, Alex's body and spirit gradually returned to it’s former glory and even better, although, he never got his six-pack abs back.

[cripplecharacters]

Hi! Trying to write about an active wheelchair user and I have been a little unknowledgeable on certain aspects as I am not a wheelchair user myself.

Do active wheelchairs have a weight limit to be aware of when hanging stuff off the back ?

Also if there's any advice on describing feeling/movement of their legs off the wheelchair ? I'm aware that the answer could probably vary from person to person depending on condition but I was mainly wondering how to go about describing the weight of moving with legs that's muscles have atrophied/weakened. Is it like an asleep limb or stronger ?

Hi,

generally every wheelchair will have a stated weight limit; one for the user and a second for the everything else. I have never seen an estimate on how much can go on the back specifically (the fact that general weight limits vary greatly doesn't really help) but I haven't seen many people struggle with it either? For the most part, the only things that hang there are a bag or backpack, sometimes an oxygen tank as well; I don't know anyone who have encountered weight related problems due to that. I would assume that unless the thing in the back is a large % of the user's weight, it would be fine (and otherwise it would be very quickly apparent that it's too heavy, because the wheelchair would tip over).

For the muscle atrophy movement, it will depend on the cause. Some people with atrophied muscle feel them well and can move them, but maybe can't support their weight on them. Others might not feel nor move them.

My own atrophied muscles are caused by permanent nerve damage that's not in the legs, so there could be differences. I can use parts of those muscles, but they're noticeably weaker (physically soft to the touch even when flexed as much as possible, which is really difficult to do BTW) and I feel part of them pretty well (actually sucks because it hurts), part of it very poorly (kinda like if you tried to touch your skin through a thick layer of rubber or something), and part of it quite literally not at all, if I touch there without looking I can't tell whether I'm doing it or not.

I suppose it could be considered a much stronger version of an asleep limb if it's nerve related, but again other causes would result in different sensations. To me it's not a perfect analogy because when my leg falls asleep, I'm getting all these pins and needles, I can feel when I touch it, and it's actively distracting - my permanent nerve damage is just kinda there, I really don't think about it much unless it's touched.

If any followers would like to share their own experiences with muscle atrophy, feel free to leave it in the notes.

mod Sasza

[noel-fielding-web-page]

‘The fact that I’m still here is amazing’: Noel Fielding on Bake Off, booze and the Boosh

He has gone from cult niche to smash hit and he still can’t believe it. As Bake Off returns, the comic talks about his ‘feral’ upbringing, his party years – and the day Hammond fell out of a hammock

Noel Fielding’s highlight of the new series of The Great British Bake Off wasn’t a show-stopping cake. In fact, it wasn’t any type of baked goods. It wasn’t even a shot of a squirrel with outsized testicles. It was his co-host Alison Hammond falling out of a hammock.

“I’ll never be able to unsee it,” he says. “What I love about Alison – and I mean this with the greatest of respect – is that she’s an absolute klutz. If anyone’s going to fall out of a hammock, it’ll be her. She also fell backwards off one of the workbenches while showing off. Don’t worry, she was OK. No Hammonds were harmed in the making of this series.”

As the autumnal fixture returns to our screens, Fielding promises a 15th series on peak form. “It’s a belter,” he says. “There are some very special bakers in the tent this year. Somehow the standard keeps getting higher. These unbelievable young bakers are way better than they should be for their age. It’s a vintage year. One of the best yet.”

By stealth, the surrealist goth has become a Bake Off veteran. This is Fielding’s eighth series at the helm, meaning he’s now served a longer stint than original hosts Mel Giedroyc and Sue Perkins. “Who knew that was going to happen?” he marvels. “Maybe Paul Hollywood’s hypnotised me. I can’t escape the tractor beam of those blue eyes. I loved that original lineup, with Mary [Berry], Mel and Sue, as much as anyone. When me and Sandi [Toksvig] took over, we were terrified. We knew it was a massive risk. We said: ‘Let’s see if we can last one series.’ The fact that I’m still here is amazing.”

A family affair? … (from left) Fielding, Alison Hammond, Paul Hollywood and Prue Leith. Photograph: Mark Bourdillon/Channel 4

Toksvig later admitted “I felt my brain atrophying” after three series of glazes and ganaches. How does Fielding keep it fresh? “Sandi, as we know, is a massive brain. She went to Cambridge, she’s super-smart, she writes, she does politics, she needs to be stimulated. She never stays anywhere too long, except QI which is the perfect show for her. The difference between us is that I’ve always really enjoyed hanging out with the bakers. I befriend them and get them to open up. Nobody expected that to be my strength. I assumed it’d be the sketches and banter. In fact, I’m fascinated by the people. I feel protective of them. If Paul and Prue [Leith] are hard on them, I’m absolutely livid. It’s devastating when they leave. This year I was particularly fond of one baker. When I had to send them home, I cried.”

Hammond is his third co-host. “It feels like I’ve done three different shows,” he says. “First with Sandi, under enormous pressure but we pulled it off. Then with Matt [Lucas], which was a privilege because he’s a comedy genius. Now I’m enjoying it more than ever. Alison’s not a comedian, so she’s not as neurotic about jokes as I am, but she’s a brilliant improviser and instinctively funny. She slotted right in. Paul and Prue are very fond of her. Even my kids adore her. We’re having a blast.”

Judges and presenters refer to “the Bake Off stone” – a tendency to gain weight during each 10-week run. In her sophomore series, Hammond valiantly attempted to resist. “She tried to eat less this year but Alison’s quite childlike. She said: ‘Noel, stop me eating cake, I want to be good.’ The next time I saw her, she was literally like [he mimes shovelling in cake]. Alison has a good time all the time. You don’t want her to not be eating the cakes.”

Fielding, now 51, had a “feral” upbringing in Croydon. Hammond was raised in a Birmingham council house. He relishes these “two working-class kids galloping around Welford Park”, the Grade I-listed Berkshire estate where the marquee is pitched each summer. “If you’ve grown up in a working-class environment and go to a stately home, you’re like: ‘Woah! This is like Willy Wonka’s factory.’ We’re like urchins in front of Dame Prue. I permanently feel like I’ve come to sweep Prue’s chimney.” He describes Bake Off’s star quartet as “a funny old family”. Who’s who? “Prue and Paul are Mum and Dad, obviously. Alison’s the wild daughter. I reckon I’m the cat. Or am I the dog? Paul would say I’m the teenage son who’s secretly a vampire.”

‘We knew it was a massive risk’ … Fielding with Sandi Toksvig on the 12th series of The Great British Bake Off. Photograph: Channel 4/Love Productions/Mark Bourdillon/PA

The last time we spoke, Fielding reflected on his 00s era as a hedonistic scenester. “I took partying to its logical conclusion,” he said. “When you’ve been partying with Kate Moss and Courtney Love, you’ve gone as far as you can go. A few friends ended up in rehab. I was sick of partying anyway and lucky enough to have my family at the right time [he has two daughters with wife Lliana Bird]. It was like: ‘This is what I was looking for!’”

He returns to the theme today, pondering how Bake Off arrived at the right time. “When I got this job, I’d just had my first child, I was painting a lot and had a different lifestyle. This show fitted that phase. You want to match your career to where you are in life. It’s mainstream, family-friendly and my kids love it, so it suits me. I love not partying – and I never thought I’d say that.”

A fellow comic turned artist provides career inspiration. “I’d love to concentrate on art more as I get older. I love what Vic Reeves [Jim Moir] is doing, making art documentaries and his Painting Birds series. Vic and Bob [Mortimer] were a big influence on me. Now he looks genuinely happy. I’d love to do something similar.”

Claudia Winkleman jokes that she gets mistaken for Fielding. Does it happen the other way round? “I did see a trailer for The Traitors out of the corner of my eye and go: ‘I swear I didn’t film that.’ But no, Claudia looks like a beautiful 60s model. I look like a melted candle. A wax model of Roy Orbison that’s been left too near the radiator. It’s flattering for me but harsh on her.”

Earlier this year, Fielding scored a streaming hit with The Completely Made-Up Adventures of Dick Turpin. After wrapping filming on Bake Off, he’s off to shoot the highwayman sitcom’s second series. Has he learned to ride a horse? “I can get on and off, that’s all I need. Luckily it’s a comedy, so I don’t need to look impressive. One thing I enjoyed was that it’s made by Apple, so there’s a bit of a budget. With The [Mighty] Boosh, it was always a financial struggle to bring your vision to life. If you do fantastical stuff, you’re forever going: ‘We want an underwater race with people riding porpoises but that’d be all the budget gone.’ We’d end up using bits of animation to work around it. With Apple, they go: ‘Yeah, we can do that. Fine, let’s blow up a carriage.’ I’m like: ‘What, really? It won’t be a model?’”

He has formed an unlikely double act with Hugh Bonneville, who plays Dick’s thief-catching nemesis. “You can never predict who you’ll have chemistry with. I’ve learned a lot from Hugh. He’s a really skilful comic actor. And Mark Heap, who plays my dad, has the best timing of anyone ever.” As well as starring, Fielding has a writing credit. In the pilot episode, Heap tells him: “You always were a bit weird. Drawing, coming up with funny ideas, wearing strange outfits.” Was that line autobiographical? “I did write that scene, yeah,” admits Fielding.

Slice of history … Fielding (left) with his Mighty Boosh co-star Julian Barratt Photograph: Martin Argles/The Guardian

He also drew the amusingly rubbish “Wanted” posters that appear in the show. “I’d send them to the director and he’d go: ‘No, not bad enough, do another, make it more ridiculous!’ I’d end up doing them left-handed in about 10 seconds.” There’s even a role for his brother Michael, who played Naboo in The Mighty Boosh: “I put my brother in everything I can. He’s not only very funny but it means I get to hang out with him all day.”

While we’re on the Boosh, was he aware that this year marks the 20th anniversary of the comedy troupe’s TV incarnation? “Does it? Oh wow. Me and Julian [Barratt, his comedy partner] were proud of everything the Boosh did – the live shows, radio series, TV show. We probably should have made a film. People wanted more and that would’ve been a nice way to finish. Julian’s the funniest person I’ve ever worked with, hands down.” Of today’s comedy crop, he rates James Acaster highly.

Would the duo ever reform? “What we had together was so special. Comedy double acts are such rare beasts, like unicorns. I’ll probably never meet anyone like that again but I loved it while it lasted. We stopped at the right time, before the quality dipped. The Boosh was all-consuming, like being in a band. It’s difficult to recreate that when you’re older. You don’t have the same drive and energy. As much as I’d love to get back together, I wouldn’t want to do something that wasn’t as good.”

Going from Boosh to Bake Off has been an unexpected journey. “When the Boosh ended, because it had been a cult hit, I wanted to make something more avant garde and experimental to satisfy my art school side. So I did [Channel 4 sketch series] Luxury Comedy. After that, I didn’t know what to do with myself, then Bake Off came along. It was a huge curveball for me. I love that it’s old-fashioned TV. Millions watch it weekly. People come up and talk to me about the latest episode. It feels like being part of British culture. There’s so much choice now, thousands of shows on streaming, but shows like Strictly, Gogglebox and Bake Off somehow still cut through.”

After dismal weather all series, the sun even came out for this year’s final. “It had been raining and storming but as soon as we went to announce the winner, sunshine started beaming down.” Fielding grins. “Bake Off’s like that. There’s something magical about it.”

Guardian, 14.09.2024