#ADHD Scott Tracy

[astranite]

Love is Stored in the Pasta

Scott, John and pasta.

This started off from a tumblr post 'cause somebody needed to cook that guy some pasta!!

Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, really very mild scott is hangrysad, ft john's space issues, Chronic Illness, as thats what im treating it as and its not the focus here he's just living with it, Scott Tracy has ADHD, this is important, Autistic John Tracy, lowkey here but also Important to me, this is fun and fluffy and i love them, i hope this is like a warm comforting bowl of pasta to you too

---

“We need to talk,” John said.

On the other side of the call, Scott’s hologram slumped over his desk, his head landing in his hands. “Oh God.”

“I found your search history…” John began.

Scott peered out sheepishly from behind his fingers. “I can explain!”

“It’s just pages and pages of pasta?” 

John was puzzled, honestly. Five to ten recipe blogs and that was Scott trying to decide what to make for dinner during a meeting or while he was struggling to concentrate on work. During lulls between callouts, he and John would sometimes debate options together. More than forty separate sites visited at 3:12pm on a Tuesday afternoon and Eos had flagged it for John, on suspicion that Scott’s computer had been hacked by a malicious entity or some other AI virus.

Scott went from double facepalm of despair to full on faceplant, his head hitting the desk with an audible thunk.

“Why so much pasta?” John questioned. Now his curiosity was piqued, he couldn’t let it go or he’d be doing EVA work later, still turning over possibilities in his mind, which wasn’t conducive to the constant concentration needed while floating around in the vacuum. Outside, any misstep would be your last.

“I dunno. I just feel like pasta,” Scott mumbled into the wood.

Scott sounded…weird. Like he was about to start laughing, or coming down with a cold.

“Scott? Are you okay?”

It had better not be another flu; corralling Scott to take care of himself was hard enough even if he wasn’t feverish. John wouldn’t be able to come down either, quarantined up in Five unless he already had it. Was the slight tug of a headache at his temples from his sinuses beginning to clog up too?

Scott hadn’t looked up yet; his shoulders were shaking. John wiggled his fingers anxiously.

“Scotty?”

Big brother’s head shot up at the nickname John so rarely used. Had John intended to provoke that reaction? The name had been a slip of the tongue but if he was was honest, he sort of had meant to jar Scott out of his thoughts. He never called Scott, Scotty unless he was scared though. And Scott not answering him did tick tick tick up his system from yellow alert into red.

“I’m fine, it’s okay. Don’t worry about me.” Scott’s words ran over each other in an attempt to come first. His voice sounded oddly wet.

Tears, yes those were indeed tears dulled by holographic format, tumbled down Scott’s cheeks.

As soon as he saw John looking, Scott turned away.

Suddenly, John landed on the spark of insight that he had a hunch would crack the code to his big brother’s distress. “Have you eaten anything all day?”

Scott dug around for tissues in a drawer of the desk and gave a half shrug. “I guess not—not really? I tried to before you say anything. Got a mouthful of breakfast in and then there was a call out. Lunch didn’t happen, there was a meeting, I had to make coffee, I ran out of time. I don’t really feel hungry though…”

That did explain a few things. It was well known family lore that Virgil and Alan got hangry, and Gords went all sad and mopey. Scott and John himself though, they got …really, unstably emotional. 

So yeah, hence the unexpected bursting into tears. John got the whole shit interoception and not even noticing if you needed to eat while you were buried in work thing; Scott was way too used to ignoring his body too. 

John took a deep breath. “Scott, and I’m one-hundred percent serious about this, do you want me to come down there and make you some pasta?”

Thunderbird Five systems whirred around John in the quiet as Scott hesitated.

“Maybe,” he whispered. “Or you don’t have to, I’ll wait, Virge’ll be doing dinner in a bit anyway.”

“Virgil won’t be up until past sunset after the hours Thunderbird Two was out yesterday and into this morning,” John said gently. “You need to eat before then.”

Nor would an overwhelmed Scott and the kitchen be a good combination at this point, and John saw the moment Scott realised this, while fidgeting with the rubix cube on his desk. 

“I want to do this for you,” John told him.

Scott dashed at his eyes, sniffled a few times and finally capitulated. “Okay. Thanks, Jay.”

John smiled and signed off, heading for the space elevator. He was usually so far away, he was right now, but it was in his power to close off that distance when he needed to and today he could use that. 

He farewelled Eos; she so often missed him but the opportunities to run the space station on her own that weren’t emergencies where he was incapacitated excited her. They showed how much he had come to trust and rely on her. Plus she got full reign of their virtual chess set.

On Earth, Scott was waiting for him as the elevator docked, his hands stuck casually in his jeans pockets but looking as pale and wobbly as John felt. His face was still tearstained.

“Hey.”

“Hey to you too.” John took a few heavy steps before throwing himself at Scott, wrapping his arms around his brother tightly, all the while careful not to knock him off balance. Scott stiffened then melted into John. 

Usually that interaction went the other way around. 

Scott used the extra height space gave John to rest his head on him without having to duck down like with everyone else. John hugged him close and comfortingly as his fingers tap tap tapped their rhythm at Scott’s shoulder. All of it meant I love you.

“Pasta time?” John said eventually.

Scott nodded silently, following when John started off towards the kitchen. The raw rock wall of the hanger was rough and vividly solid in its three dimensions, as John ran his hand along it for balance as he walked that initial part. He was touching the Earth, he was in the Earth, he was on Earth.

With cold water from the fridge dispenser and the fizzy, brightly coloured tablets shook out of their tube, John made up lidded cups of electrolyte drink for himself and Scott. John needed to be sculling the stuff perpetually to stay upright down here, and he would not be at all surprised if Scott was dehydrated too. It might to something for John’s headache, could go either way for the nausea coming on.

He put a large pot on the heat. One advantage of having a stove so high powered that it could nuke anything it touched was that any volume of water boiled fast. 

An entire packet of fettuccine got tipped into the enthusiastic cacophony of bubbles. John poked at it with a pasta scoop, regretting that he hadn’t snapped the long pieces to actually fit in better. Ah well. 

He shook in an excessive-to-anyone-not-him amount of salt with a shrug ‘cause he needed it, before having another go at separating the pasta. The pasta scoop was quite an effective implement for that, there were reasons after all it was Gordon’s favourite utensil as John remembered from previous discussions. One could also use it to mash potatoes when held vertically, if one so pleased. His second favourite was the tongs as they could be clicked like crab claws and used to pinch unsuspecting siblings. 

Scott watched from his place slumped over the kitchen bench on a stool, chewing on the ragged skin at the edge of his thumbnail. He was trying to work on a couple of screens pulled up as holomonitors, as unsuccessfully as could be expected. John came over and hopped up to sit on the bench, clipping through the projected email inbox and meeting minutes so Scott dismissed them. It was with a sigh of relief.

They smiled tiredly at each other.

The pasta! John tapped at his uniform comms watch. “Eos, set a timer for the pasta, please?” John shaved the minute that had already passed off of the box time and then another couple to ensure it wouldn’t come out mushy.

“So what sort of stuff on pasta do you feel like? There’s a good lot of options you were looking at earlier.”

“We don’t have the ingredients for most of those, I checked. No eggs and no mushrooms so no carbonara. Technically that wouldn’t be authentic carbonara though. No cream cheese. We missed this week’s supply run so we don’t even have any frozen peas!” Scott threw his hands up in the air.

“Hmmm. You feel like something creamy?”

“Yeah. Honestly at this point I’d eat anything.”

John swung his legs and tapped his fingers on the counter while he thought.

“I believe some bacon is hiding in the bottom of the freezer so that’s something. And…” he trailed of as he moved his head too fast and set off a wave of dizziness as he looked around the kitchen.

“Avocado!” Scott exclaimed.

“Avocado?”

“Funny story, we ended up with several cases of them after that rescue on that farm where we saved the whole village and nearly all their trees from catastrophic flooding. They really need eating too and there’s only so much toast you can stand.”

“I have heard theoretically of putting avo on pasta and it does sound good. Mmmm bacon and avocado, John hummed. “Worth a shot?”

Scott reached towards the fruit bowl in answer, grinning at John. “Soon we will have pasta!”

John peeled off the upper half of his uniform and tied the arms around his waist in preparation. In the subtropical summer down here he was already getting too hot and while the temperature regulation built into his suit would do its best to make up for his own body’s lack thereof, it felt weird to have everything covered up from fingertips to neck down here while he was cooking.

Scott began to giggle.

“Huh?” John said, extremely eloquently.

Scott gestured at him. 

“My suit?” Was something up with his suit? The full gloved hands and sleeves flopping about without John in them had been known to amuse the lot of them on occasion, ever since he’d used the empty suit as a phoney decoy of himself to trick Eos. It was pretty funny now no one was in mortal peril and Eos was his friend.

“Your face!” Scott exclaimed.

“What’s wrong with my face?” 

John frowned. Was it his fringe that never could survive true gravity? He hadn’t gotten freckles while he’d been down all of half an hour and inside, had he? Then he looked down.

His t-shirt had a photograph of his face printed on it, and across the chest, emblazoned in neon orange read the words ‘Space Face’, courtesy of one particular fish brother. Ah yes. That.

John sighed, resting his chin on his hand to hide the smile he couldn’t quite control. “Not exactly subtle, is it? In my defence this was the only one in my closet that was clean and you can’t exactly see it beneath my suit. It’s all Gordon’s fault anyway!”

Scott was still laughing, albeit a touch hysterically and at him, but John took it as a win regardless.

Eventually Scott grabbed himself a cutting board and knife to get to work on the avocados as John carefully slipped off the bench, steadying himself on the counter as his ankles went noodley so he could handle the bacon. 

Bacon, bacon, now where had he seen that bacon? He had the image of it in his head, but that was only one piece of the puzzle, a photograph, humanly imperfect, memory woven out of instinct. Digging about in the deep freeze which the evidence pointed to as best John could tell had his fingers feeling like he’d stuck them out in space with out gloves on. They ached sharply as John cursed his crappy circulation. 

He gladly found the bacon though, lurking at the second darkest depths. He would not be willing to venture into the midnight zone of Unidentified Frozen Objects and charred dinner leftovers put away for ‘later’. He chucked the packet into the microwave and thawed out his hands by running them under lukewarm water, wincing all the while. If he’d thought this through, if he’d been smart enough, he would’ve put his suit gloves back on—his space rated, cold proof, most definitely impervious to domestic appliances gloves— and saved himself the pain.

Scott came over to rinse his avocado green hands. He dried them off then wrapped his arms around John’s waist so he could lean on him, giving in for a moment in face of daunting gravity. With Scott, he could because Scott got him; they both could.

“You alright?” And there was big brother smotherhen coming out.

John flexed his defrosted fingers. “I will be.” He turned and smushed his face into Scott’s neck for a little bit, hugging back, Scott rested his head on John’s, and they stayed there for a while.

They were both fading. The pasta would help with that, Scott really needed to eat and so did John at this point, the half a dry bagel for breakfast and another at lunch hadn’t really been enough. The trick now was finishing the task that felt as if it expanding faster by the second than the Universe, as measured by the Hubble Constant was. They could do this though. Together.

Scott chopped up the bacon roughly and John cooked it, hissing back when it spat hot oil at him. 

When Eos notified them the timer had gone off, and John had very scientifically tested the pasta was done by nomming on a bit, he called Scott over carry the large pot to the colander in the sink to strain. 

“Gravity plus boiling water plus my space noodley arms are probably not a good combo,” he laughed. 

He was getting better at knowing his limits. Scott’s smile was small and proud, he saw John.

Scott stared at the bacon with the intensity of a starved wolf with its mouth watering, then stole some pieces hot from the pan and burnt his mouth. Scoff Tracy strikes again. 

They dumped the pasta in a big mixing bowl with the mashed avocado, a little lemon juice, the bacon, and a whole lot of salt, pepper and parmesan cheese, mixing it together with the big pasta scoop.

John swayed on his feet then, grabbing onto Scott to stay upright for long enough to decide actually the best place for him right now was sitting on the kitchen floor just here. John folded himself down to the ground in a slithering pile of too long, too bendy limbs, Scott wordlessly guiding his descent. 

“You want me to grab some sporks to eat with?”

“They’re splayds, technically,” John remarked. He gave Scott the thumbs up anyway, while he rested his spinning head on his knees.

Scott waved about his ‘sporks’ acquired from the cutlery draw with a victorious grin before he sunk to the ground to join John.

John took one, passing the pasta to Scott once he was settled, lanky legs stretched out for miles, bumping into John’s.

“We forgot plates,” Scott said.

John shrugged. “At this point, who cares. We have pasta.”

“We do.” Scott blinked for a moment. “I didn’t before and I wouldn’t’ve but now we do.”

He hugged the warm pasta bowl to his chest, and when John observed more closely he saw the tears collecting on Scott’s eyelashes, sparkling in the kitchen light as he looked up at John.

“Thanks. I love you so much, Jay.”

John gave him a gentle smile, ducking to knock his forehead against his brother’s shoulder like a cat. “Love is stored in the pasta.”

Scott smiled back at him and they both dug in.

It was good pasta.

Really good pasta, because he was here with Scott and through everything they had made it, together.

[idontknowreallywhy]

Another instalment of dinky Scott at School - I think there are (as yet unwritten) scenes in between these but I figured I’d get the key ones down then have a look and decide if it’s actually a story to flesh out or just a series of snapshots to leave as is.

Apologies to any actual teachers who may notice I am playing fast and loose with how such things might work in real life.

Disclaimer: Teeny Scooter does not actually appear in this bit, but is much discussed…

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

THE Jeff Tracy.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t spent most of the night revising the 6 bullet points she wanted to cover in that one 12-minute parent-teacher conference. She’d quietly ensured the slot immediately afterwards was unbookable just in case things… overran.

None of the other teachers had met him, only the mother, who by all accounts was very pleasant. She hadn’t expected him to come, assuming he was probably on the moon or something equally intrepid. But the little box next to the number 2 had been ticked on the form so unless it was a grandparent or something…

The fancier biscuits she’d picked up from the store had just been a whim… sometimes she wanted to bring a bit of luxury into proceedings, that’s all it was…

Oh heck she’d bought fancy biscuits. Just like the hopeless fangirl she was. As if he’d notice anyway?

The first parent had noticed and seemed to enjoy their chocolate dipped Viennese finger biscuit. So it was worth it.

The second set of parents hadn’t turned up at all which left her with an agonising 18 minute wait.

It was fine. Just another PTC with some totally normal parents hoping to hear what a delight their precious offspring was. And she intended to thoroughly emphasise that part right at the outset because he really was.

The other notes she had would also be fine because she had considered every possible way of delivering them and had figured out the most persuasive.

All. Fine.

She needed another word for fine.

A gentle tap-de-tap and the door cracked open to reveal a waterfall of red hair and a very friendly face. Behind, even taller than he looked on tv, towered the man from the all those documentaries she’d binge-watched as a student.

Definitely just a normal PTC.

Felicity Miles, teacher, champion of tiny people, competent human, took a breath and greeted the couple with professional confidence and a welcoming smile.

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

In the last five years she’d broken similar news to four other sets of parents, and observed her mentor do similar in her training year. Not a big enough sample to be conclusive but the fact the reaction had been the same each time had lulled her into a complacency about what to expect.

It went something like - shocked faces, initial denial, possibly a little anger, guilt that they hadn’t known, 3 of the mothers and 2 of the fathers had cried. Then, usually, she could see a little relief creeping in…. The hope that it hadn’t been something they’d got Wrong after all.

And then a brief conversation about what could happen next and arrangement of a meeting to discuss further when they’d had time to think. She’d hand them the department of education-approved info leaflets and smile and promise it would all be alright.

This one wasn’t going the way it should.

To start with there was zero surprise. Not even a flicker. In fact they’d looked at each other and smiled, before patiently listening to the rest of her little monologue. Right up until she started outlining the stages in the school’s neurodiversity support pathway at which point Mr Tracy had lifted a hand and cut in:

“There’ll be no need for anything formal. He’ll learn to manage his difficulties and he’ll overcome them.”

Felicity did her best to ignore the calm tone in his voice that simultaneously commanded she agree with him, advised it was a done deal not worth fighting against and reassured her that he was obviously right and it was all for the best. She pictured the desperate little human curled up in the Octopus House and tapped into the protective rage it generated:

“I don’t think you understand, Mr Tracy. A diagnosis would mean he could get that little bit of extra support he needs, perhaps a Teaching Assistant to keep him on track and help with refocussing when he gets distracted. He could have occasional time out on special programs to develop his interests, as I said he really does excel at maths and…”

“Ms Miles, please stop there a moment.”

She did so.

A few seconds later she remembered to close her mouth.

“Are you aware of what Scott wants more than anything in the world?”

She clenched her jaw in an effort not to snark back “a glimmer of self-esteem?” and thought about what seemed to make her zoomy little friend the happiest. The answer left her mouth before she was aware she knew it:

“He wants to fly.”

It was his mother who sighed and spoke next, the slight unevenness of her voice probably undetectable to someone who hadn’t spoken to a LOT of exhausted parents:

“He does. He always has from the moment he realised he couldn’t. Even before he really understood what airplanes were, he’s been fascinated by them and has been determined to reach the sky to join them. He seems to view gravity as a personal insult…” she chuckled then added “Being a parent to Scott Tracy is 90% catching him as he leaps from places he shouldn’t according to all the laws of physics be able to reach.”

Her husband reached over and squeezed her hand with an affectionate smile and added in a much softer tone:

“In his pram he watched the birds, it was the only thing that settled him. You won’t be surprised to learn that all of his bedroom decorations are aircraft-related. He’s not even remotely interested in space travel or what his mother and I do other than that we both flew planes first.”

Felicity could see it all but felt the conversation had gone off on a tangent. She took charge again and tried a different tack:

“But to achieve his goal he is going to need to have decent grades at the end of his education and the foundation of that starts here. He has so much potential and… look, I couldn’t give a damn about the class interruptions, please don’t think that is what this is about. I can handle all that, it’s what’s going on in his head, how he sees himself and I think we need to have something in place so that he and all his future teachers understand that… I hate to say it but for some, a formal diagnosis is the only way to persuade people that a child isn’t deliberately…”

“Ms Miles.”

The sigh escaped this time.

“Yes, Mr Tracy?”

“Do you happen to know the criteria one must fulfil to train as either a commercial airline or a military pilot?”

“Offhand? Not, precisely, no.”

“There is also an exclusionary list. Certain conditions, diagnoses, other events on a medical record that may prove to be a barrier to acceptance. Many people in the field don’t agree with everything on the list, but at the moment it exists. You’re clearly a smart woman, Ms Miles, and I can tell you’ve already worked out one of the conditions noted on that list.”

He wasn’t wrong. She hadn’t released her breath since the word ‘exclusionary’. But it forced its way out now in a quiet groan and then a whisper:

“ADHD.”

💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙💙

[thunderbird1lover]

Okay I really would love for some ADHD Scott Tracy fics because I've looked everywhere and can hardly find any!

(If u make one tell me please 🙏)

[newwavesylviaplath]

what are your top five favourite movies of all time (and why?) 💘

again this is so hard cuz i don't watch movies but ill try my best to answer.

5. sleep away camp; literally the definition of 80s campy horror it's what ahs 1984 wishes it could be

4. scott pilgrim vs the world; ultimate comfort movie!! ive read all the comics and have a scott pilgrim action figure also besides this fact its a good movie i like how i can recognize a bunch of the places DONT GET ME STARTED ON THE SOUNDTRACK i love all the bands so much and because the majority of them are canadian i have like some weird connection to them (my fave thing to brag abt is how my mom went to highschool with the drummer of broken social scene and they were like CLOSE friends like not just acquaintances)

3. brigsby bear; another comfort movie- i used to be a diehard snl fan but i was like SPECIFICALLY obsessed with kyle mooney (still love him) and also this movie is so like sweet and like perfect example of the offbeat humour + heartwarming ending combo im convinced that kyle's just ahead of his time and that this will totally be a cult classic one day.

2. kill me now; another movie with kyle mooney- im a giant nerd when it comes to improv and sketch comedy (don't get me started on the podcasts omfg) so when i found out that all of good neighbor was in this movie i had to watch. another example of campy horror although it's very 2012 type humour so i think a lot of ppl think it's like stupid but whatever ill defend it till the day i die its free on youtube go watch

1. excision (2008); literally another film from youtube that i've seen too many times to count. this is a short film (which is great considering i have horrible adhd) but it was turned into a full length feature in like 2013 i think. the full length one is also very good; it features traci lords AND john waters as a minister 💀 so again it has kind of a kitschy vibe to it but not as much as the others. the original is a lot more on the serious side. it's totally perfect if u have mommy issues the last scene always makes me cry (you'll also like it if ur mentally ill or maybe just have a blood kink)

sorry idk why i wrote a whole essay. also honourable mention is the movie 'slaxx' that was absolutely wild.

[via-l0ve]

🎃 Supernatural please

(I'm on season 1 and I basically only know of Dean, Sam, Castiel and a little bit of Crowley so... yeah telling you that in advance, hope that doesn't ruin things)

I'm 5'2 - 5'3, I'm a girl, I have long black/dark brown curly hair (it basically goes a bit past my butt), I'm very sarcastic, I'm talkative with the people I know and quiet with the people I don't quite know yet, I've been told I'm the funny friend so... yeah, I love coffee, my top 8 artists rn are probably Elvis, Tracy Chapman, Childish Gambino, Hozier, Elton John, ABBA, Queen and Alanis Morissette but I also really like rock, I adore scooby doo (even tho I may be a bit to old for it), I really like Van Gogh and can talk about him for hours, Halloween is my fav holiday, I have really bad ADHD, my fav movies are 10 things I hate about you, definitely maybe, Mamma mia, Scott pilgrim and Interview with a vampire, I LOVE vampires and all supernatural stuff like that (that's why I like this show so much), I love angst, I cry doing or even thinking about math, I'm a December Sagittarius, I have an older twin brother meaning I'm the youngest and I've always wished to be an older sibling, I like otters, my favorite color is Navy blue, I don't have the attention span to read books so I listen to audio books instead, I've always wanted a pink motorcycle even though my fashion sense consists for dark clothing, band shirts, pajama pants and ripped jeans, I have 2 dogs but I LOVE cats and I have pretty thick thighs which is why I never wear skirts

OMG EW THIS IS WAY TO MUCH I GOTTA GO ON ANON IM SO SO SO SORRY EW THIS IS TO MUCH

ONCE AGAIN SO SORRY, YOU DONT GOTTA READ ALL OF THAT, THIS IS EMBARRASSING I JUST DONT KNOW HOW MUCH YOU NEED- OMG EW SO SORRY AGAIN

LMFAOO STOP I GIGGLED WHEN I READ THE LAST COUPLE LINES PLEASE. DONT BE EMBARRASSED BABES PLEASE THE MORE INFO THE MERRIER DONT APOLOGIZE!!!!

i ship you with Sammy!!

he would watch scooby doo with you for hours. he loves screaming along to music with you and laughing when your voices hit off key. since you don’t have the attention span to actually read he would read out loud to you while you cuddle up to him. on the rare occasion that you do wear a skirt he will be foaming at the mouth omg omg omg he literally thinks you’re gorgeous. pleaseee talk about Van Gogh to sam he will let you go on for hours and ask questions to keep you going. his non adhd ass will balance out your ADHD perfectly bc while you’re having an ADHD thing he’s just sitting all calm lol. he loves you

[dinosrawr]

I can't believe I'm actually doing a tag game on Tumblr, but I do be liking @ranger-kellyn so here goes:

3 ships: Benedikt Montagav & Marshall Seo from These Violent Delights (my boys! my sons! let them be happy!). Regina Mills & Robin Hood from Once Upon a Time (Regina's happy ending doesn't have a romance in it, but by the fairy, she's fucking WANTED one!). Holland Vosijk & A Damned Break from Shades of Magic (just let that poor man have a vacation, shit).

First ever ship: There's been couples I've liked together before this, but by season 3/4 I wanted nothing more than for poor FitzSimmons to have a moment of peace. Like. Let them FIND OUT if they want to be a romantic couple or remain platonic. Let them rest! And then the second the characters decided that "yes, I'd like to try," I was 110% on board. Cheering them on amidst disaster. (Wait. I'm sensing a theme. Do I like DOOMED relationships?! These all have someone who looks like they won't make it to the end of the series. Fuck...)

Last song: Looks like I paused in the middle of Stay (Faraway, So Close!) by U2, but the last full song I heard was the Zombie cover by Bad Wolves.

Last movie: It's a Wonderful Life. Yes, it was Christmas Eve.

Currently reading: Bro, I have.... A LIST. I'm on break and the ADHD can only handle like 10 pages at a time, but I want to read!!! So.... *ahem* Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld, Her Majesty's Royal Coven (audio) by Juno Dawson, The Sword of Kaigen by ML Wang, Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë, The Grimrose Girls by Laura Pohl, Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis and Tracy Hickman, and four secrets

Currently watching: The Owl House with the besties and Agents of SHIELD with myself. Both of which are to lower my hella high anxiety levels right now.

Currently consuming: water, forced upon me by the aforementioned besties.

Tags for funsies if you wanna: @thedisassociation @ruthsic @sharvil1

[thunderbird3-is-go]

The Tracy Brothers

Headcanons and canons

Ages: (Canon)

Scott is the oldest

Virgil is the second oldest

John is the middle child

Gordon is the second youngest

Alan is the youngest

Mental health: (headcanons/canon)

Scott has Anxiety and is a people pleaser (headcanon)

Virgil has OCD (headcanon)

John has social anxiety (canon)

Gordon has ADHD (headcanon)

Alan has ADHD and anger issues (headcanon)

Hobbies: (Headcanons/canon)

Scott likes to help Brains in the lab or hang with his brothers (headcanon)

Virgil likes to play piano, paint and sculpt with trees and bushes (canon)

John likes to read and learn about the constellations (headcanon)

Gordon likes to swim, prank his brothers and watch conspiracy theory videos (canon/headcanons)

Alan likes video games, learning about space, watching TV and hanging out with his brothers (canon/headcanons)

Dog or cat person: (headcanon)

Scott, Gordon and Alan are dog people

John is a cat person

Virgil likes both

Favourite sibling: (Headcanon)

Scott is the “I love you all equally” but his favourite is Alan

Virgil is the “of course” when anyone asks if they’re his favourite.

John is the “I don’t like any of you” but it’s either Scott or Alan

Gordon is the “in your dreams!” When they ask if they’re his favourite.

Alan is the “I love all of you!” And actually means it/depends who annoys him the least that day.

[your-dietician]

Drug Overdoses on the Rise as Top 10 Diagnoses Unveiled

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/drug-overdoses-on-the-rise-as-top-10-diagnoses-unveiled/

Drug Overdoses on the Rise as Top 10 Diagnoses Unveiled

Author – Search by Author –Adele L. Towers, MD, MPH, FACP Ahmed Abuabdou, M.D., MBAAlba Kuqi, MD, RHIA, CDIP, CCS, CSMC, CICA, CRCR, CCDS , CCMAlixis SmithAllen R. Frady, RN, BSN, CCS, CCDS and Rob Kopec, MDAllen R. Frady, RN, BSN, CCS, CCDS, AHIMA Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerAndrea Clark, RHIA, CCS, CPC-HAndres Jimenez, MDAndrew H. Dombro, MDAndrew N. Cohen, PhDAngela CarmichaelAngela Phillips, PTAnita Archer, CPCAnita Majerowicz, MS, RHIAAnny Pang Yuen, RHIA, CCS, CCDS, CDIPAutumn Reiter, BSN, RN, CCDS, CDIP, AHIMA-Certified ICD-10 TrainerBarbara Hinkle-Azzara, RHIABarry Libman, MS, RHIA, CDIP, CCS, CCS-P, CICBeth Friedman, RHIT, BSHABeth Wolf, MD, CPC, CCDSBetsy NicolettiBetty B. Bibbins, MD, BSN, CHC, C-CDI, CPEHR, CPHIT, CPHIMSBill Rifkin MD, FHM, FACPBilly Richburg, M.S., FHFMABonnie S. Cassidy, MPA, RHIA, FAHIMA, FHIMSSBrad JustusBrigid T. Caffrey, BA, BS, MS, CCSBrooke Palkie, MA, RHIACareer StepCari Greenwood, RHIA, CCS, CPC AHIMA approved ICD-10 TrainerCarol Lester, RN, BSNCarol Spencer, BA, RHIA, CCS, CHDACassi Birnbaum, MS, RHIA, CPHQCatherine Harrison-Restelli, MDCathie Wilde, RHIA, CCSCesar M Limjoco, MDCharles Winans, MDCheryl E. Servais, MPH, RHIACheryl Ericson, RN, MS, CCDS, CDIP Chris Liguori, MBAChris Powell, Chief Executive Officer, PrecyseChuck BuckCindy Doyon, RHIAColleen Deighan, RHIA, CCS, CCDS-O Cynthia D. Fry, PhDDavid Jury MD, MSDawn Valdez, RN, LNC, CDIP, CCDS; CCDIPDeborah Grider, CPC, CPC-H, CPC-I, CPC-P, CPMA, CEMC, CCS-P, CDIP, Certified Clinical Documentation Improvement PractitionerDebra Beisel Denton, RHIA, CCS, CCDS, CDIPDee LangDenise M. Nash, MD, CCS, CIMDenise Wilson MS, RN, RRT Dennis HarveyDennis JonesDennis WinklerDenny FlintDheeraj Mahajan, MD, FACPDiane Iverson, RN, BSN, BS, ACM, CCMDiann Smith, MS, RHIA, CHP, FAHIMA AHIMA Donna Richmond, BA, RCC, CPCDr. Stephen Spain, MD, CPCDuane C. Abbey, PhD, CFPEdward Hu, MD, CHCQM-PHYADVEdward M. Roche, PhD, JDEileen Dano TkacikElizabeth Stewart, RHIA, CCS, CRCAEllen Fink-Samnick, MSW, ACSW, LCSW, CCM, CRPEllen VanBuskirkEmily AndersonEmmel “Sonny” Golden, MD, FCCP, CCDSErica E. Remer, MD, CCDSErin Head, MBA, RHIA, CHDA, CCS, CHTS-TR Evan M. Gwilliam, DC, MBA, BS, CPC, CCPC, CCCPC, NCICS, CPC-I MCS-P, CPMAFrank CohenFred BazzoliGary BaldwinGeorge VancoreGlenn Krauss, RHIA, BBA, CCS, CCS-P, CPUR, CCDS, C-CDI, PCS, FCGloryanne Bryant, RHIA, CDIP, CCS, CCDS, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerGracielinda PrescottGrant Huang, CPC, CPMAGregory M. Adams, FHFMAGretchen Dixon MBA, RN, CCS, CPCO, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS Trainer and Ambassador,Gustavo P. Camarano, MD, PhD, CPC, CDIP, CHCQMH. Steven Moffic, MDHeidi Hillstrom, MS, MBA, RN, PHN, CCDS, CCSHolly Louie, RN, BSN, CHBMEHugh KellyJacqueline J Stack, BSHA, CPC, CPC-I, CPB, CEMC, CFPC, CIMC, CPEDCJames JonesJanelle Ali-Dinar, PhD Janis OppeltJeffrey D. Lehrman, DPM, FASPS, MAPWCA, CPCJeffrey Epstein, MDJessica KatzJessica MaierJill FinnJoel Moorhead, MD, PhD, CPCJohn A. Updike MD, MPH, FACP and Debra L. Anoff, MD, FHM, FACPJohn Evensen, MBAJohn Foggle, MD, MBAJohn Pitsikoulis, RHIAJohn R. Irwin, AB, JD, BS, MD John WollmanJohn Zelem, MDJonathan LaFleur, BSN, RN, CCSJoseph C. Nichols, MDJoseph J. Gurrieri, RHIA, CHPJoyce Johnson, RHIA, CCS, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerJulia K. Brodt, PhDJulie A. Dooling, MSHI, RHIA, CHDA, FAHIMAJulie A. Dooling, MSHI, RHIA, CHDA, FAHIMA and Melanie Endicott, MBA/HCM, RHIA, CDIP, CHDA, CPHI, CCS, CCS-P, FAHIMAJulie Boomershine, RHIA, CCS, CTR, CHDA, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10 Trainer; and Jessica Coleman, CCSJuliet A. Santos, MSN, CCRN, FNP-BCJuliet B. Ugarte Hopkins, MD, CHCQMJustine KuritzKaren Kinzle ZegelKaren Kinzle ZegelKathy Murchland, RHIA, CDIPKathy Pride, RHIT, CPC, CCS-P, CPMAKim Carr, RHIT, CCS, CDIP, CCDS, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerKim Charland, BA, RHIT, CCSKim Reid, CPC, CPMA, CEMC, CPC-IKimberley Templeton, MDKnicole Emanuel Esq.Kris Knight, MBA, RHIAKrista JaroszewskiKristi Pollard, RHIT, CCS, CPC, CIRCC, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerLamon Willis, CPCO, CPC-1, COC, CPC, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerLaudine A. Markovchick, RHIT, CCSLaura Hayman RN, CDISLaura Legg, RHIT, CCS, CDIPLauri Gray, RHIT, CPCLaurie A. McBrierty, MLT ASCP, CICA Laurie M. Johnson, MS, RHIA, FAHIMA AHIMA Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerLeanne R. CardwellLeslie KrigsteinLinda Pottinger, MBALinda Schwab-Messmer, RHIT, CCSLinda Schwab-Messmer, RHIT, CCS, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS Trainer, and Dotsy Baxter, RHIA, CCS, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerLisa Banker, MD, FACPLisa Baris, RHIT, CCS, CCDSLisa Roat, RHIT, CCS, CCDSLolita M. Jones, MSHS, RHIA, CCSLorraine Fernandes, RHIALorraine M. Martínez Lyman Sornberger, MBALynn Cleasby, RHIT, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerMachaelle Diaz, CMA, CPC, CRC, CPMA, ICD-10CM, CGSC Mandy Willis, CCS, CPEHRMargaret A. Skurka, MS, RHIA, CCS, FAHIMAMaria Bounos, RN, MPH, CPC-HMarie Morin, RN, MSN, CCS,CRCMark E. Laudenberger, MS, RHIAMark LottMark Morsch, MSMark SpiveyMary Beth Haugen, MS, RHIAMatt Lambert, MD Megan Cortazzo, MDMel Tully MSN, CCDS, CDIP Melanie Endicott, MBA/HCM, RHIA, CDIP, CCS, CCS-P, FAHIMA, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerMelinda Tully, MSN, CCDSMichael A. Salvatore, MD, FACPMichael Calahan, PA, MBAMichele HibbertMichelle M. Wieczorek RN RHIT CPHQ Mikel HodgsonMira GoldsteinNate DueaNena Scott, MSEd, RHIA, CCS, CCS-P, CCDSNick van Terheyden, MD Odin MaylandPamela Charney, PhD, RDPamela P. Bensen, MD, MS, FACEP, AHIMA approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerParesh K. ShahPatricia Trela, RHIAPatty T. Sheridan, MBA, RHIA, FAHIMA, and Valerie Watzlaf, PhD, MPH, RHIA, FAHIMAPaul Weygandt, MD, JD, MPH, MBA, CPEPiyush Mathur, MD, FCCM; Ahmad Maher Adi, MD; Brett Elo, DO; David Jury MD; Erica E. Remer, MD, FACEP, CCDSRachel Mack, RN, MSN, CCDS, CDIP Ralph Wuebker, MD, MBARebecca DeGrosky, RHITRebecca Gruszkos, LCSW, ACHP-SWReed D. Gelzer, MD, MPHRenee Stamp, CPC, COC, CPC-I, CPMARhonda Buckholtz, CPC, CPMA, CPC-I, CRC, CDEO, CHPSE, COPC, CPEDC, CGSCRhonda Taller, MHARobert S. Gold, MDRonald Hirsch, MDRose T. Dunn, MBA, RHIA, CPA, FACHE, FHFMA, CHPS, AHIMA-approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerRudy Braccili, Jr.Sabrina Yousfi, MBA, RHIA, CDIP, CCSSally Streiber, BS, MBA, CPC, CEMASandra Draper, RHIT, CCSSandra L. Brewton, RHIT, CCS, CHCA, CPC, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerSandra Routhier, RHIA, CCS, AHIMA Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerSarah Laird, RHIA, CCSSarguni Singh, MD, Hemali Patel, MD, and Debra Anoff, MDScot Nemchik, CCS, AHIMA-Certified ICD-10 Trainer, and Patty T. Sheridan, MBA, RHIA, FAHIMAShannon DeConda CPC, CPC-I, CEMC, CMSCS, CPMA®Sharon Easterling, MHA, RHIA, CCS, CDIP, CRC, FAHIMASharon Lee Savinsky, MSN, RN CDISSheri Poe Bernard, CCS-P, CPC, CRC, CDEOSherry WilsonSheryl Markowitz, LCSW, LISWsStacey Elliott, CCS, CPCStanley Nachimson, MSStefani Daniels, RN, MSNA, ACM, CMACStephanie Thompson, ICD10monitor National CorrespondentStephen Sokolyk, MD, MHASusan Gatehouse, RHIT, CCS,CPC, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerSusan M. Howe, RHIT, CCS, CASCC, and an AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS trainerTammy Combs, RN, MSN, CDIP, CCS, CCDSTerrance Govender, MD Terry Fletcher, BS, CPC, CCC, CEMC, CCS, CCS-P, CMC, CMSCS, CMCS, ACS-CA, SCP-CA, QMGC, QMCRCTerry MillerdThomas Ormondroyd, BS, MBATiffany Ferguson, LMSW, ACMTim BavosiTim McMullen, JD, CAETimothy Powell, CPATina Ferguson, RN, CCDSTorrey BarnhouseTracy Boldt, RN, BSN, CCDS, CDIPValerie Fernandez, MBA, CCS, CPC, CIC, CPMA, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCSValerie J. Watzlaf, PhD, MPH, RHIA, FAHIMAVictoria M. Hernandez, RHIA, CDIP, CCS, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerVinita Manoraj, MD, CHCQMWilbur Lo, MD, CDIP, CCA, AHIMA-Approved ICD-10-CM/PCS TrainerWilliam L Jonakin, MD, CPC, CRC

Tags – Search by Category –AHIMAICD10CMSSenateMedicareSGRimplementationSebeliusObamaHHSOIGMACstestingclearinghouseICD10 testingAAPCNCVHSOMBNachimsonWEDIICDICD10PCSHIMHBMAICD10 delaycoderscodertrainingdualcodingdual codingICD10 impactdata managementICD10CMCDIclinical documentation improvementAMAAmerican Medical AssoicationDRGCongressMSDRGphysician documentationmedical recordscodingbillingreimbursementpractice managercooperative exchangePMSendtoend testinge2e testingclinical documentationEHRclinical datapatient careE2EMedicaidhealthcareCMTcardiologyinsurersIPPSpaymentsheadlinesGEMscodesprovidersdocumentationdate announcedCEDIcode freezeC&MMSDRGsHITbillfinancialriskICD10 readinessmissing linksICD10LogicphysiciansTalk Ten TuesdaysHIPAA5010documentation tipsTexas HealthAHRQ#ICD10HIMSScompliance#EHRHIMSS15ChiropracticMental HealthRadiologyCash FlowRevenue CyclePhysician EducationPractice Mgmtworkers compensationACDISP and Cwomen’s healthlong term carepayerswhotipsahapcsschizophreniastressinsuranceauditeducationvendoremrcfrlcdacuteclaimshypertensionpaymentfdazikaebolasirsdisordercdcadministratorsmrsaptsdsepsisadhdautismcachccnew codescoordination and maintenance committeecode changessecondary diagnosisuhddsregulatorytom pricematthew albrightppacacorecaqhremotecdisdiagnosislgbtdegenerationmacramipscpodcoding accuracytransgenderlgbtqtransitionequality for allprincipal procedureaccoutpatient cdivbpvaluebased purchasingsnfssepticemiasepsis3hccsburnoutcrazyclimate changecoder burnoutnovant healthproviderssapsipqrsmedical necessitylegal doctrineevaluation and managementdiagnosis codingoutpatientphysician engagementcoronary angiographyphysicianinpatientinpatient cdisespsis72hour admissiondenialspreventioncollaborationhealthcon17utilization managementresidencyphysician advisorphysician hardshipcpthcpcsmalnutritionundernutritionelderlydenial managementappealsadaptableaha coding clinicencephalopathycopy and pasteauditing and monitoringqppdrgsclaim denialsvaluebased methodologiesecwsettlementfalse claims actffspopulation healthsepsis denialscoderphysician linkmentorhedishipaaasclinical data exchangeicd10 monitoringcoding productivitycoding updatesinnovationpatient engagementcbocmmiaffordable care actchipperformanceclaim submissionescalation policyapmsoppsopps propsed ruleearly releaseopen door forummacra proposed rulemycardial infarctionoctober 1misblack hat conferencesecuritydefconsectfremote workcommunicationsummer diseaseszika virusclinical validationdrg validationnew reimbursement modelsbundled paymentslost in translationmaradministration denials2018 codesminocainocamyocardial infarctionpatient admissionsfdara2018 icd10cm guidelinestype 2 mihcc cditpnscribesunexplained variationsriskadjustessentia healthaucqualityhurricane harveynews alerttexasemtalahurricane irmafloridaphix370sdohessentiasevere sepsisjamaroot operationcandmanxietyworld health organizationobamacareincremental interoperabilityctricqr codesblindnessdalyacosrepeallegislationfiscal year 2018poisoncjrmedicineartificialaiconferencethought leaderslabroadcastssan juanpuerto ricocliniciansemergency departmentedemergency medicinepoaytraumalas vegasconferececeuscounterfeite&mcase managmentepsemergency physicianshcpshealthcare providerscybersecuritylosmdmhcpmedical recordfraudtechnologyelectronic medical recordhurricane mariahurricaneclinical documentation integritywashingtonzombiescopdlean six sigmatqmcqidiabetesracqiomccccvaluebasedvaluebased careelectronic health record2018anesthesiasurgerylaboratorypathologycategory iiicategory iipla codesaapmsphysician buyincardiovascular interventional radiologyvascular interventional radiologyalzheimersdementiafemaaspensrevenue integritynahricdmhccairf comparenhsnacmacc/mcc captureaspensgaemsalsparamedicfirst responderspatient experiencevaluebased reimbursmentfraud managmentevidencebased medicinenihctepostconcussional syndromechronic traumatic encephalopathyconcussionsiomicgchronic conditionscritical careob codingmedical decisionmakingcare coordinationpreventative carefluvaccinationcardiac careicd11cahiimtotal knee replacementpsychiatrygoldwater ruleapaaapainpatient hcc capturehierarchical condition codesfeeforservice reimbursementnational coverage determinationncdchfsuicideimplantable cardioverters defibrillatorsicdssetpadnew technology codingprivacy lawsopioid epidemicunitedhealthcaremedicare advantagediagnosis codesmedicare beneficiary identifierhealth insurance claim numberssncertxmodifiersmiischemiatrigger point injectionspain managmentparkinsonsaverage national wage gapchild abusehim codingcodingclinical disconnectgender wage gapdoximityphysician compensation reportpalliative carebarbra bushmedical therapytwomidnight rulecomprehensive codingoffice of civil rightsmedical decision makingipps proposed ruleirffunctional independence measuremodifierschief complainthpindahpvaapcancerheart diseasebreast cancerosteoporosisdepressionautoimmune diseasemetootimesupnwhwmedical errorsrisk adjustmentcare managmentfy2019nonaccidental traumanatsocial determinants of healthcharge capturepatient protection and affordable care actnchslength of stayphysical healthworkplace bullyingphysician suicidephysician burnoutsexual harassmentglasshivprepsocial security acthfmaacute respiratory failureproposed rulephysician evaluationcoding clinicipps final rulebehavioral healthphysician fee schedulemedical marijuanajuly e and mipfsirfsccsclinical validityhatagaoadescwhfupcodingmccscode proposalecategory 18coding guidelinesz codest codesassumptive codingpresumptive linkagemaosndccdisssofaacute flaccid myelitisamfneuropathyclinical modifications cmvirusprincipal diagnosis pdxtelehealthe and mflat rate reimbursmentmedicare physician fee schedulesofascorempfsfinalrulesspinalfusionzcodesglimtcodeadversedrugeffectshippspdgmpahoncciqueriesjw modifierhacsartificialintelligence(ai)health itrural healthhospicesoaptarget probe and educatecenter for medicare and medicaid services (cms)inpatient prospective payment system (ipps)prospective payment systemclinical documentation improvement (cdi)inpatient rehabilitation facility prospective (irf)cc/mccamerican health information management association (ahima)american medical association (ama)health information management (him)electronic health records (ehrs)patient financial services (pfs)revenue cycle management (rcm)medicareseverity diagnostic related groups (msdrgs)complication/comorbidity and major complication comorbidity (cc/mcc)clinical documentation integrity (cdi)medicare administrative contractor (mac)patientdriven payment model (pdpm)healthcare itdata miningmedical codingevaluation and management (e&m)aprdrgevaliprior authorizatioin#coronavirus#coding#world health organizationcovid19obesityprice transparency340b drug programwaiver

Source link

[bookclub4m]

Episode 112: Business Non-Fiction

This episode we’re discussing Business Non-Fiction! We talk about personality quizzes, questioning capitalism, fighting against productivity/the productivity trap, the rigourousness of professional degrees, (somehow on-topic) tangents, and how books can manage to disappoint us in new and bizarre ways. It’s got both silliness and existential dread in one episode!

You can download the podcast directly, find it on Libsyn, or get it through Apple Podcasts, Stitcher, Google Play, Spotify, or your favourite podcast delivery system.

In this episode

Anna Ferri | Meghan Whyte | Matthew Murray | RJ Edwards

Things We Read This Month

Salt Sugar Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us  by Michael Moss

Liar's Poker by Michael Lewis

Uncanny Valley  by Anna Wiener

No Hard Feelings: The Secret Power of Embracing Emotions at Work by Liz Fosslien and Mollie West Duffy

Joy at Work: Organizing Your Professional Life  by Marie Kondō and Scott Sonenshein

Soulbbatical: A Corporate Rebel's Guide to Finding Your Best Life by Shelley Paxton

Think. Do. Say.: How to Seize Attention and Build Trust in a Busy, Busy World  by Ron Tite

The Steal: A Cultural History of Shoplifting by Rachel Shteir

Different . . . Not Less: Inspiring Stories of Achievement and Successful Employment from Adults with Autism, Asperger's, and ADHD by Temple Grandin

The Art of Doing Business Across Cultures: 10 Countries, 50 Mistakes, and 5 Steps to Cultural Competence by Craig Storti

100 Side Hustles: Ideas for Making Extra Money  by Chris Guillebeau

Other  Media We Mentioned

The Art of War by Sun Tzu (Wikipedia)

What Color Is Your Parachute? A Practical Manual for Job-Hunters and Career-Changers by Richard Nelson Bolles

Who Moved My Cheese? by Spencer Johnson

Uncommon Grounds: The History of Coffee and How It Transformed Our World by Mark Pendergrast

The Kelloggs: The Battling Brothers of Battle Creek by Howard Markel

Rich Dad, Poor Dad by Robert T. Kiyosaki and Sharon Lechter

Episode 015 - Self Help

The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change by Stephen R. Covey

The Paradox of Choice: Why More Is Less by Barry Schwartz

The Great Beanie Baby Bubble: Mass Delusion and the Dark Side of Cute by Zac Bissonnette

Eat That Frog!: 21 Great Ways to Stop Procrastinating and Get More Done in Less Time by Brian Tracy

Leaders Eat Last by Simon Sinek

The Poison Squad: One Chemist's Single-Minded Crusade for Food Safety at the        Turn of the Twentieth Century by Deborah Blum

The Poison Squads: The Stupid, Risky First Food Safety Tests (SciShow)

Grocery: The Buying and Selling of Food in America by Michael Ruhlman

Do Nothing: How to Break Away from Overworking, Overdoing, and Underliving by Celeste Headlee 

The Good University: What Universities Actually Do and Why It's Time for Radical Change by Raewyn Connell

The Pleasures and Sorrows of Work by Alain de Botton

More Than Enough: Claiming Space for Who You Are (No Matter What They Say) by Elaine Welteroth

The $100 Startup: Reinvent the Way You Make a Living, Do What You Love, and Create a New Future by Chris Guillebeau

Links, Articles, and Things

Ask a Manager

Quantified self (Wikipedia)

Herpetology (Wikipedia)

“the branch of zoology concerned with the study of amphibians (including frogs, toads, salamanders, newts, and caecilians (gymnophiona)) and reptiles (including snakes, lizards, amphisbaenids, turtles, terrapins, tortoises, crocodilians, and the tuataras)”

15 Business Non-Fiction Books by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) Authors

Every month Book Club for Masochists: A Readers’ Advisory Podcasts chooses a genre at random and we read and discuss books from that genre. We also put together book lists for each episode/genre that feature works by BIPOC (Black, Indigenous, & People of Colour) authors. All of the lists can be found here.

The Color of Money: Black Banks and the Racial Wealth Gap by Mehrsa Baradaran

Eat a Peach by David Chang

Fight or Submit: Standing Tall in Two Worlds by Ronald Derrickson

Drop the Ball: Achieving More by Doing Less by Tiffany Dufu

The Token: Common Sense Ideas for Increasing Diversity in Your Organization by Crystal Byrd Farmer

It's About Damn Time: How to Turn Being Underestimated Into Your Greatest Advantage by Arlan Hamilton

Black Wall Street: From Riot to Renaissance in Tulsa's Historic Greenwood District by Hannibal B. Johnson

Indigenous Relations: Insights, Tips & Suggestions to Make Reconciliation A Reality by Robert Joseph

The Work: My Search for a Life That Matters by Wes Moore

Reset: My Fight for Inclusion and Lasting Change by Ellen Pao

The Art of Gathering: How We Meet and Why It Matters by Priya Parker

Great American Outpost: Dreamers, Mavericks, and the Making of an Oil Frontier by Maya Rao

How to be a Bawse by Lilly Singh

Race for Profit: How Banks and the Real Estate Industry Undermined Black Homeownership by Keeanga-Yamahtta Taylor

Making of a Manager: What to Do When Everyone Looks to You by Julie Zhuo 

Suggest new genres or titles!

Fill out the form to suggest a genre or title!

Check out our Tumblr, follow us on Twitter or Instagram, join our Facebook Group, or send us an email!

Join us again on Tuesday, November 17th we’ll be doing Readers’ Advisory and trying to come up with holiday gifts for each other!

Then on Tuesday, December 1st we’ll be discussing the genre that you chose for us: New Weird Fiction!

[princeescaluswords]

Nonsense Roundup - Part 1

In which I dispense with the nonsense clogging my inbox.

1. Stiles may have ADHD, PTSD, and panic attacks, but he still knows the difference between right and wrong.   This does not mean he gets to do what the hell he wants when the hell he wants to.  It doesn’t make him immune to criticism.   It doesn’t excuse his behavior.   I will continue to criticize him when and if I feel like it, and that doesn’t make me ableist.  Scott suffers from depression with suicidal ideation, but you certainly won’t excuse him from anything.

2.  Scott didn’t bite Hayden because she was dying, and he thought she was too weak to survive it, so he called his mother instead.  It is part of the show’s canon that the bite isn’t a magical cure-all.   In canon, werewolves give the bite to teenagers because they’re healthy and strong to survive it and even then it doesn’t always work.  He didn’t “let a girl die because he didn’t want to bite her.”  It’s not a terrible action to pursue the best course of judgment rather than the idea of a besotted teenager who had been manipulated by a villain.

3.  Someone needs to read up on ethics.   The only person responsible for Josh’s and Tracy’s second death is Theo.   Deucalion didn’t stop him, but he didn’t help either.  Deucalion just told Theo how to take their power.  If you kidnap me to teach you how to shoot a gun, and you take that gun and kill people, I’m not responsible.  Scott certainly isn’t responsible, because the chimeras were looking for Deucalion anyway.  He simply warned his ally and worked with him to stop Theo’s plan for absorbing the Beast’s power.  To blame Scott for Tracy’s and Josh’s death gives a new definition to the word “reaching.”   If you’re so vehement on this, tell me what Scott should have done.

[astranite]

CH2 Coming Home Loudly

John isn't okay because it sure is lonely up in space. Scott follows through on his promises; he's here for his brothers and nothing, not even the distance between Earth and Thunderbird Five could stop him. Gordon is also Making Sure This Happens. --After suffering in silence, John comes home.

@janetm74 's Suffering In Silence which this follows. Ch1 upon tumblr.

@lying4sport

---

It had been twelve weeks since anyone had last hugged John or touched him at all. Scott would've been the last, leaving him on Thunderbird Five months ago with a quick squeeze of his shoulder to say goodbye. If Scott had known then that it would be for this long or had put together the pieces about the debacle with Alan already, he would have given in to the urge to tackle John into a hug, professional dignity while on duty be damned. He only had now and his brother in his arms.

All things considered, the stifled sob John let out was far from surprising. 

How he tugged away from the contact fully was even less so. Scott let him go, not forcing his brother to put up with his personal space being invaded when he was so unused to having anyone else around. He wouldn't anyway, even if his own heart ached. John needed physical affection to be on his own terms as much as he did need it.

John's arms went back to hugging himself as he rocked on his feet from heel to toe and back again, sniffling. "It's really nice to have you here."

"I'm glad to see you too. I really am," Scott replied. That barely begun to express how badly he wanted only to sit at John’s side and talk about anything or nothing at all, simply to be close.

Pretending to inspect the big ol' International Rescue sign became far more interesting as Scott turned away to let John surreptitiously wipe at his eyes. Spelled out in blaring capital letters, it was underlined red on the front of their space station

Funny how they had built this massive sign into Thunderbird Five up here where only John saw.

Scott ran his hands through his hair. He'd heard his brother's voice, seen his image through their communications array every day and near every mission since John had last rotated out, but it didn’t compare. Never could. It had been so damn long since he'd actually been physically in John's presence. 

He missed him ever so much.

He spun back to John, slowly to give him warning but too fast because right now he needed his brother in his sight. John seemed a bit more with it, the mask of Thunderbird Five, the larger than life promise of salvation overshadowing the very human operator slipping back into place. There were still cracks in it to see his brother through as John fidgeted with his uniform, twisting his fingers around his baldric until it crumpled.

He was more the utterly exhausted, probably covered in mud and hangry level of put together of the others after a mission, than John's usual never less than perfect. Scott would take what he could get though. If John started crying again, Scott couldn't guarantee he wouldn't either. 

"You ready to head home?" Scott said suddenly. 

He craned his neck around to look at the gleaming control panels, their blinking lights shining as brightly as they should. There. Sorted. Given this was John, of course it was: he’d never leave Five anything less than gleaming. They could go home.

John paused, his movements dying down into unnatural stillness. He lifted his chin, looking Scott straight in the eye like he was presenting his case before a committee of the entire world judging him, instead of it only being them. 

"No."

The single word came out blunt anyway.

Scott tensed up. To leave without John… he couldn’t—

Scott forced himself to take a deep breath. John wasn't exactly making sense, but when it came to his oh so clever little brother, it was most often Scott who was missing part of the equation.

"You don't want to? Or is there something else?" he asked, hesitant. 

It was rare for John to be this thrown by anything. But then this wasn’t an everyday situation, or rather it never should’ve become one so ceaselessly.

“Jay, what’s going on?”

Scott didn’t know how not to worry.

"No!” John shook his head frantically. “No, I want to go home."

His hands flailed through the air as if he was trying to sketch out a diagram of the problem for Scott. They rose upwards before John brought them down fast, flicking them, flapping them in rapid, repeating succession.

It struck Scott how long it had been since John had let him see him do that. With came the piercing realisation of long since he’d been physically in front of John to see him. In front of a camera and across comms, John held his hands below the field of view unless one was delicately wrapped around his microphone.

A tiny piece of the tension eased. John took a deep, shuddering breath, placing his words deliberately: "Father told me to pack my bags. I'm not packed. So therefore I'm not ready.”

To leave without John… he couldn’t—

As Scott reached for him, out of an instinct to comfort his brother in any way he could, John flinched back. He flattened himself against the wall, limbs compressed inwards as if he wanted to to sink through the glass and disappear into the star punctured void outside. 

John had always had the talent of making himself small. Scott was the one here on Five who was too loud and out of place.

 “So therefore I can’t go home,” John murmured. Or rather he mumbled, barely audible syllables clinging to each other instead of cutting through the noise clear as day. Scott had nicknamed the latter as his newsreader's voice once upon a time, on a day they’d been messing about over the comms as each brother requested John do different voices and Jeff pretended to not hear. 

It was what the world heard of Thunderbird Five, through and through. But not all there was to him.

Scott's hands found their way into his own hair again, tugging at it. He hadn’t thought. Grabbing him into a hug wouldn’t work with John. Never had. Sometimes that meant Scott wasn’t sure what to do.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered.

This was unfair, so fundamentally unfair that Scott didn't know what to do with it. He wanted John, down on Earth for however long he needed, happy and safe, but this wasn't the kind of rescue where Scott could throw him over his shoulder and carry him out of the burning building. It wasn't that sort of strength Scott needed. 

What he needed was John’s own quiet strength, to calm and care for and carry people through to hope on only his voice. Yet what he had was himself.

[astranite]

Neurodivergent Tracies Headcanons!!

I've been thinking about this for ages (pretty much ever since Ive been into Thunderbirds) and lately seen and had more discussions with people, so I've decided to finally make this post! And hoping it might spark even more discussions! Also given how many Thunderfam members including myself are neurodivergent, and how positive I have seen the fandom be towards it :)

I'll elaborate later, at some point, about why I think these and specificities. Because I have many thoughts. Too many thoughts for right now!

I also decided to include stuff as well as autism/adhd, because neurodivergence has so many things to it.

Scott: ADHD, C-PTSD.

John: Autism, anxiety.

Virgil: Autism, depression.

Gordon: ADHD, autism, PTSD (hydrofoil accident and medical).

Alan: ADHD.

I also reckon Brains is autistic. I don't feel like I know Kayo well enough yet to have any headcanons in particular, but I wouldn't say she's not neurodivergent. Same with Penny. I also headcanon Grandma, Jeff, and also Lee as having ADHD. And I write Lucy as autistic but that is very because I said so and I want to.

So, thoughts? Headcanons? Neurodivergent Tracies stuff you want to see more of?

[astranite]

Static Does Not Mean Still

Scott and Virgil go on a run in a nearby park to burn off some energy after an easy rescue, and the prompt 'Static electricity' is also involved in here somewhere thanks to @gumnut-logic's Unusual Whump List

This is about fluff and joyful brothers getting to run around in the sunshine. And a bit of ADHD Scott and the Hyperactivity. They are having fun and I had fun writing this.

Also thank you to @edutainer2022 for talking about this as a wip, and about Scott getting to put down his burdens and the weight of responsibility for a while to be carefree with his brothers.

---

Any rescues where no one came away bruised, bleeding and/or catastrophically exhausted were always a win in Virgil’s book. This was one of them. 

The engineering foam deployed from Two had stabilised the overpass bridge structure exactly as it was supposed to before further infrastructure damage could be caused, especially to the railway line below, the main concern which had resulted in International Rescue’s call out. 

Virgil had got to put his engineering degree expertise to good use, handover to the local authorities was smooth and professional with plenty of admiration on both sides for how the incident was handled, and no fancy jetpacking was even required to Scott’s disappointment.

It was a great day all in all to be finishing at noon on a Tuesday. The sun was shining, their work for now was done and everyone commuting would be able to get home safely when the rush hour hit in the evening. 

Virgil took off his helmet to put it away with the gear and ran a hand through his somewhat sweaty hair, grinning at Scott as he walked up to him. 

“Hey Scotty.”

“Virge!”

Scott had ditched his helmet as soon as the rescue was over and he got the all clear from Virgil which was a big improvement on protocol following and not taking unnecessary risks. 

In the meantime his hair had fallen into disarray but Scott didn’t seem to mind. He put an arm around Virgil’s shoulders to give him a squeeze before going back to pacing circles on the module floor, gesturing wildly at John’s little hologram as they talked rapid fire. Something, theoretical mathematics, something. Virgil, unlike other members of the family preferred the more concrete and applicable to what was in the world in front of him branches of engineering.

Virgil did also have big brother jittering at his side with pent up energy and a flight home in his green girl that was apparently ‘not nyoooomy enough’ for Scott’s liking to get through without anyone exploding. 

Scott’s hyperactivity wasn’t a bad thing, never had been when it was just how Scott was. Virgil was far happier that Scott was letting it show instead of turning it to inwards frustration and internal stress, but they did have a flight to get through which would be a lot more comfortable for them both without Scott’s frenetic energy vibrating the whole cockpit as he eyed the flight controls like he wanted to tackle them from Virgil’s hands to do aerobatics in a cargo plane. 

Thunderbird One was in for maintenance as Brains and Virgil worked on replacing burnt out engines which meant Scott couldn’t go for the mad loop the looping he favoured to let off steam. Virgil’s ‘bird was a Thunderbird: she was extremely capable and manoeuvrable for her size, but stunt jet she was not designed to be. 

Pulling up a map on his wrist controller, Virgil turned to Scott. “How about we get out for a bit, go for a walk? There’s even a park nearby.”

It’d be a good opportunity to burn off some energy, even if the walk would turn into a run when his brother was involved. Virgil was happy to follow him though.

Scott changed track mid-sentence, charging for the module door as he continued to chatter to an amused John. There was no eye roll from him, only the softest fond smile.

Virgil blinked and Scott was calling back to him. Alright, they were going suited and booted in IR uniforms then. 

“Okay, I’m coming, Scooter!” Virgil had to jog to catch up with those long legs. Predictably.

Scott noticed, of course he did. He was stopped to bump shoulders with Virgil, bouncing on his toes to stay in one spot.

“Short stuff,” he sung out affectionately.

Out under the blue sky, with plenty time to spare and no where to immediately be, Scott was cheerful. John could call them back to Two if they were needed elsewhere but right now they had this. 

Scott spun around laughing his head off when they reached the open park. Virgil couldn’t help but join him, as where else would he want to be but by his brother’s side?

Then Scott set off sprinting down full tilt down the gently sloping grassy area, as Virgil ambled along at a more reasonable pace that gave him the opportunity to look at the native trees in blossom, so different from the ones at home but equally beautiful in his mind. Okay, now he was by his brother’s side metaphorically, even if not physically. 

Still, he began to run too as Scott looped back to return to him, meeting him halfway. Moving his body felt good, even if he wasn’t a compulsive early morning runner.

Scott crashed into him, catching him in a tight hug. Virgil returned it with the same enthusiasm until he lifted Scott’s feet off the ground to spin him around just to show big brother that he had it. The big brother in question cackled with delight.

He leant into Virgil and said quietly, “Thank you. I really needed this.”

Virgil held him close for that moment. “Anytime.”

Then Scott was ready to be off again, or not quite. He bounced from foot to foot, waiting for Virgil to follow as he eyed the empty playground equipment longingly. 

Virgil made a shooing motion. “Go have fun, I’m coming.”

He shook his head fondly as Scott dashed towards the brightly coloured construction. Ever since they were kids, Scott had never been able to resist a climbing frame, or scratch that, any opportunity to climb whether the structure in question was designed for it or not. 

Virgil sent a quick photograph of a joyful Scott mid-flight to John. 

In the seconds it took to do that and read John’s reply of orange hearts, Scott had scaled the towering rope structure, perching himself at the very top, one casual hand wrapped around it to hang on as he waved to Virgil.

John got another photo as Virgil made sure to zoom in far enough to capture Scott’s broad grin.

It would make John’s day; just like him, his space brother treasured every moment of happy Scott. Those photos would find their way into the shared family album sure enough.

Scott’s joy was precious because it was too rare for him to be able to let go of the burdens he carried for long enough to indulge in carefree happiness. That he was simply allowed to, that his brothers and everyone in his life wanted this for him was a novel concept that Virgil watched Scott still struggle to believe in.

As Scott swung his way around the climbing frame, Virgil settled on the swingset, rocking himself slowly as he scuffed out the beginnings of a drawing of One and Two in the dirt with his foot, his hands tapping the notes of an entire orchestra out on the chains. Unlike John, he didn’t try to swing high enough to launch himself into orbit, but Virgil did enjoy it. 

Sharper marks from the edge of his boot formed the action lines streaking away from the wings of a certain rocket plane. The rounder toe was used to sketch out Two’s curved fuselage. He used the tread to add some extra patterning around the Thunderbirds to stand in for blocky clouds streaking by. It was coming along well. 

This was how Virgil wanted to spend his time: making art because he felt like it with Scott close by and having fun where he didn’t have to worry about him.

Or only a little. A sudden yell of, “Ow!” came from the slides. 

From the volume and the high pitch, he judged Scott was surprised, not injured.

Virgil had to check though, but sure enough Scott was rubbing his forehead with a dramatic frown as he glared at a bar near the entrance of the slide. 

“You alright, Scooter?” 

“These are designed for short people,” Scott grumped.

If he was complaining, that meant it really was a minor bump so Scott wasn’t worried about worrying Virgil with it. 

“Anyone’s short next to you,” Virgil teased.

“Hey!” Scott’s indignant cry echoed through the slide tube. 

So did the mutter that followed. “Easy to say for someone who’s not even average height.”

Virgil hummed. He wasn’t going to immediately launch himself off to grab Scott in a headlock. He finished off his drawing, took a photo of it to send to John and so he could keep it, then jumped off the swing carefully to land on clear ground. But they were brothers and he wasn’t going to let the insult to his pride stand uncontested. 

Scott was oblivious, already having turned to climb the tower again to take another turn on the slide, already over his own bump. Virgil followed, clambering up after him, wary of the low bars too ‘cause he wasn’t that short . 

At the top, they met and Virgil grinned at Scott, gesturing for him to go first. Somewhere along the way, probably after getting too hot gambolling about, Scott had rolled down the upper half of his flight suit and tied it around his waist, leaving him in a wrinkled Denver college t-shirt. Virgil’s shirt, but that didn’t matter. The important detail for Virgil’s plot was that his arms were bare and in easy reach. 

Scott disappeared down the slide with a whoop. Virgil went after him, not even pausing to admire the view from the top of the tower over the bright green parklands. He was on a mission. 

Hunching his shoulders in was a precaution as he sat at the beginning of the slide, a just in case as the memory of Gordon’s laughter rung in his ears over the one time Virgl had gotten stuck in a building rubbish chute at demolition turned rescue site trying to slide down it in a ill advised, Scott-like move. Scott probably would’ve pulled it off, he was far too good at insane stunts, but Virgil with his broad shoulders plus his exosuit… hadn’t quite managed it.

“Virge,” Scott called up the slide, laughing, “Do I need to come rescue you this time too?”

Virgil hmphed. By staying right at the bottom, Scott was going to make this very easy for him. Big brother did totally deserve it.

Pushing off, Virgil slid down the slide, leaning into the twists and turns, all the while dragging his gloved hands along the sides. The colours flashed by and he was in all likelihood doing the ‘plotting evil eyebrows’ expression his brothers always caught onto before he could prank them. 

It wasn’t his fault he didn’t have a poker face! But this time it would be far too late for Scott to do anything about it. Never let it be said only John was capable of devious plots when Virgil could plan them out with an engineer’s precision.

Virgil leapt out of the slide, then he innocently tapped Scott on the arm.

Scott jumped a foot in the air and shrieked, “YOU ZAPPED ME VIRGIE!”

The urge to giggle overpowered him as Scott threw his arms around him in what was half-tackle, half-hug. 

“I got you! I got you good! ”

Scott gaped, twisting to look from Virgil to the slide and back again. “You static shocked me.”

“Wouldn’t’ve worked if you were wearing your suit properly, it would’ve dispersed the charge.”

“Oh come on!”

“You called me short.”

“‘Cause it’s true, short stuff. Always has been. And your hair!!” Scott’s smile spread across his face, big and toothy—

Virgil pouted in an attempt not to grin along. “I’ll zap you again.”

—and most importantly happy .

“You’ll have to catch me first!” 

Scott ran off into the sunshine, watching over his shoulder to make sure Virgil was following. Ever the big brother. Ever there for Virgil, now with more care to make sure he wasn’t going too fast to keep up with, not just for their sakes and admittedly shorter legs, but for his own too.

Virgil followed, of course he did. But he did so laughing, not out of fear he’d be too late.

The afternoon was spent chasing joy under blue skies, surrounded by the green earth, until they both flopped down onto the grass together. Even Scott’s frantic energy had completely dispersed. This time, today, it was because of messing about like they were kids again instead of bone-deep exhaustion from hopeless rescues over too long hours in hostile conditions. Virgil treasured it. 

He treasured every second with Scott, from pulling him eagerly back over to the swings to show him the slightly smudgy sketch of their Thunderbirds flying together as Scott adored them, to stopping to get icecream and waffles in lieu of a proper lunch on the walk back to Two on John’s suggestion.

The flight back home to the Island was carefree, with a take away container of icecream in the module freezer for the others and a cheery Scott by his side, both of them humming then along to the upbeat music playing from the speakers. No attempts to squish his staticky hair back into its usual crest had worked in the slightest, but that didn’t matter when Scott’s was just as ridiculous.

Virgil even let himself get convinced into guiding Two through a few loop the loops. And maybe also a couple of dives. Then some barrel rolls. Only because it amused Scott though; Virgil was not going to give him the fuel for future stunts by telling him that just maybe Virgil loved the adrenaline rush of doing aerobatics in his ‘bird like his brother did too.

---

Hope you had fun reading this :D

Now i feel like I need to go find a slide or some swings and some sunshine too!

[astranite]

CH1 Coming Home Loudly

John isn't okay because it sure is lonely up in space. Scott follows through on his promises; he's here for his brothers and nothing, not even the distance between Earth and Thunderbird Five could stop him. Gordon is also Making Sure This Happens. --After suffering in silence, John comes home.

This fic follows @janetm74 's Suffering In Silence which I love. So much. This is about the emotions and the hugs and coming home.

Also thank you to the amazing art and inspiration of @lenle-g !!!

---

Scott powered down Thunderbird Three’s engines as he docked with Five and the clamps engaged, anchoring the two Thunderbirds together. John's voice was calm over the radio when he granted them permission to dock. It was so perfectly calm, without even a tremble to break the illusion that he had everything together, to the point it came out flat. Scott winced. Beneath it all John sounded completely exhausted. 

Gordon had been quiet most of the flight but for terse navigational directions, focused to point of singularity on why they were here. Around them, the metal hull of the rocket ticked and snapped as it cooled, adjusting to the lack of engines firing as they were left floating in the cold, unforgiving, lonely void of space. Scott shuddered, averting his gaze from the viewports to the stars. Nope, give him his blue skies any day of the week.

He jiggled his foot beneath the dash in a rapid tempo, hand bouncing on his knee in time. The anger that had flared up at his father while defending John had fled, leaving him with only restless worry. It filled him to the brim where thoughts about their father and their discussion turned argument, about Alan, and most importantly in this moment of John intermixed with flight plans and overflowed into movement.

Gordon shifted in his seat, picking up on Scott's emotions, ever in tune with everyone else. His mission focus snapped as he twisted around in his seat.

Hey Scotty, are you gonna explode?" he burst out. "'Cause you seem like you're about to."

The tap tap tap of Scott's leg shaking sounded too loud in the rocket's cabin. He was probably driving Gordon mad with it like it did their father when Scott got impatient in a meeting. Scott pressed his foot to the floor, forcing himself to go still. 

"Sorry Gordo, I'm all good," Scott muttered as the airlocks clunked together and begun to pressurise achingly slowly.

At least picking at the outer leg seam of his uniform with his fingers was less disruptive and obvious when he couldn't help the need to move. 

Gordon rolled his eyes. "I didn't say you had to stop, I just want to know how you're going. Y'know with everything."

"So now you ask me about my day?" Scott snarked back as he resumed bouncing his leg. 

He wouldn't say it was a relief Gordon didn't care, but it was. His brother was now mimicking his jittering but bigger and louder because this was Gordon he was talking about. He was probably also doing it to show Scott that it was okay.

"You seemed pretty wound up after your chat with dear old dad even by the time I came in,” Gordon said.

"How did you—? I didn't tell you we spoke."

Gordon counted off on his fingers. "One, we're going to get John down from Five even though Alan has very conveniently extended his rota. Two, the back of your neck gets red when you're mad."

Scott rubbed at it self consciously. "No it doesn't."

"Ya, it does bro. How do think I get the message of when to steer clear with the pranking? It's the same with Virge but don't tell him I told you that."

Scott blinked in silence in light of Gordon's astute observations.

And three," Gordon continued, "You can't sit still anyway but it's like ten times worse when you're worried about a brother. That brother isn't Alan when he's tucked up snug as a bug in a rug in the sick room probably watching racing vids by now, it's John."

Scott put his head in his hands as Gordon gestured expansively. "Ergo, you and Dad fought because as usual he thought everything was peachy when John's been practically radio silent lately, so if it ain't broke no need to fix it. Plus you're pissed about the whole thing with Alan."

Gordon kept talking as Scott tried to process exactly how much his little brother picked up on because Gordon’s anxious tell was the inability to shut up. 

"Bonus lucky number four, John's been in space far too long and it's getting to him, and damn it to all hell but Dad was wrong and I'm really glad we're here."

They both let out a long breath after that, looking to each other. The airlock safety dinged.

Scott leapt out of the pilot's chair as fast as he could, pausing only when Gordon didn't follow.

Brown eyes watched him, as soft and sharp as the tangle of contradictions that forged Gordon. 

"Johnny will just want you. You're our big brother, he'll be a mess and you know he hates anyone seeing him like that. He’ll take it better from you."

Scott leant over the back of Gordon's chair to wrap him in a hug. "Thanks, Squid."

"Anytime. Now you bring our space-case home." That ridiculous nickname was said with all the affection in the world.

Scott saluted him, getting a casual two fingers flicked from a brow back as he pressed the door release.

The doors shifted open with their customary hiss-clunk, allowing Scott entry into Thunderbird Five. His brother's Thunderbird, just as clearly as One was his own. Maybe even more so when it came to it. It wasn't like Scott lived on his twenty-four seven without pause, even if after long rescue shifts sometimes he felt like he did.

John was waiting for him on the other side in his customary blue uniform and lilac baldric, looking smaller than Scott thought someone so tall and lanky could possibly make themselves. His arms were wrapped tightly around his chest. Hugging himself, Scott realised.

A step closer showed exactly how crumpled his clothes were, as if he'd pulled them off the laundry floor pile. Or slept in them. Or, if Scott was going to bet on it, spent a good amount of time crying his heart out while hiding in his bed, like Scott had found John too many times in their lives after he retreated. Their father would never allow anyone under his command and certainly not his sons to be seen with their uniforms in such disarray in any other circumstances.

Another couple of steps until he was standing right in John's space had him meeting his brother's over-bright eyes. It was impossible to miss how red and puffy the skin around them was. John glanced away down to their feet, blinking quickly.

His hair stuck out like a set of radio antennae, his fringe bent in no less than three different directions.

Scott had been right. Gordon had been right. John wasn't coping up here alone. 

"Hey, John," Scott said softly.

"Scott." 

Only now John's voice sounded utterly wrecked, like he had in fact spent the last hours sobbing.

Scott was ready to kick himself for not doing anything earlier. This would've kept on going, leaving John suffering in silence when he couldn't make himself say anything to their father for even longer, if Scott hadn't stepped in. 

Twelve weeks. John had been stuck up here alone, no one to keep him company, the time stretching out longer and longer as Alan put off or cut short his own rota whenever he could get away with it. It was a pattern, going back far longer than this round. 

Scott would've gone mad in about a day over his allotted month without room to run in the fresh air beneath the sky and more importantly, have his family by his side. John had had none of that for far longer.

This was why Scott didn't take rosters on Five very often without good reason. But if he was up here, he was damn well going to stick it out and do his job properly. He'd be having a long talk with Alan about taking responsibility for his own actions after he got John home and gave him a chance to settle before tempers blew up the house. The kid would take it hard being told that he'd hurt John, but this couldn't go on.

The reason why stood right in front of him.

John wobbled on his feet, rocking forward before hesitating as he reached out towards Scott. 

" Oh, Jay," Scott murmured near silently, just between him and John.

Scott opened up his arms and John fell into them. 

John didn't hug back; his arms remained pinned around himself, crossed protectively over his chest, but he leaned his body into Scott's before tucking his face into the crook of his big brother's neck.

Ever so carefully, Scott folded him close as John trembled. 

His brother felt far too... Scott refused to use the word fragile, his John was as strong as the rest of them, no matter what anyone said, and yet he also wasn’t the collected Thunderbird Five they usually knew. All Scott wanted to do was hold him, to keep the weight of the world off his brother’s narrower shoulders and stand between him and the storm. Right now that was what John needed; it didn’t make him any less of a Thunderbird though.

John would step out again from that shelter, quicker and cleverer than anyone or simply however John was in the moment, but that was his choice, not Scott’s to keep him. It was about whenever John felt ready to do so, Scott swore to himself: he would be there for as long as that took and be still there to come back to, yet when the time came he’d let go and cheer John on from the sidelines.

It had been the same with Gordon when after the accident the world had been screaming that he was fragile. In the early days Scott had been... overprotective too. He'd treated his brother like glass and stopped him from doing what he wanted to do out of fear, for his own sake, not Gordon's. They had a deal now: Gordon would tell him upfront what he could and couldn't do, and Scott would believe him. He’d call dad out when he refused to listen to Gordon too, backing his brother up when he wanted it.

Even when hard rescues turned recoveries had Scott wondering why the hell he was letting any of his baby brothers do this, he'd never take away being a Thunderbird from Gordon against his will. Nor from John. He’d fight the whole world kicking and screaming if it tried to, because being different didn't make any of his brothers broken. 

He held John, a hand resting on the nape of his neck to gently tangle in soft, blonde hair while John’s uneven breaths were warm against Scott’s collar bone, where his eldest little brother hid his face. 

Sometimes after nightmares Scott was left lying awake, staring at the blurry ceiling in the dark. The majority of his service held no happy memories; none of the promised glory was found in the senseless bloodshed of a violent conflict there had been no reason for but greed. When he was so shaken, so sick to the pit of his stomach that the tears he’d woken up with wet on his face flowed freely, Scott thought he wasn't as strong as Dad wanted them all to be either.

John was far too like him when you got down to it. So was Gordon. Alan was barely not a kid and still figuring out a lot of how things worked. He hadn’t had the easiest time of it growing up without Mum holding his hand like she had been there for the rest of them, not matter how they all had tried to compensate for the youngest. Scott had tried, he’d stepped up as the man of the house even when Dad checked out. He hadn’t known what to do with five motherless boys either.

Scott’s Virgil too had a sensitive artist’s soul, he always had. He was a bit of a hopeless romantic and an easy crier, but Scott couldn’t truly tease him for it. Virgil made the choice over and over to continue to be soft and to be kind no matter how many times he was knocked to the ground. He was the one Scott looked to when he felt he was forgetting how to believe in the good in people. 

Right now, John had forgotten how to take up room in the world. In Scott’s arms, it was as if he would shatter if he was dropped suddenly or grow smaller until he faded away invisibly. Even when Scott knew he wouldn’t , deep down he was still scared that his brother would disappear into space, becoming another part of the stardust and the big, empty void instead of being his John . He saw it in the silence that settled over him after so long away, where his usual quiet gaped like an open wound. He couldn’t bear to lose John to it.

But Scott would never let it happen, not while he still breathed. He would hold John up until he could stand on own his feet again and never leave him alone and forgotten. That’s why he shouted down their father, the echo of his palms slamming into the desk thrumming through his fingers in synch with his heartbeat. Proper meals, rest, sunshine and time with their brothers would do John good, then they would all hear John’s laughter ringing out across the pool decks once again. 

John let Scott take his weight. His brother was truly here, real and solid in his arms, Scott needed this to remember how it felt, that this was John not just the staticky waves of a voice down a radio channel or flattened 2D image from far away. Those weren’t warm and human, it wasn’t the same.

Scott froze when John wriggled after a minute, immediately loosening his grip to give John room to breathe, but John only let his arms drop to his sides so he could squish himself closer to Scott.

Using the few extra inches of height he had on his brother from how John slumped small, Scott wrapped himself around John more. He shifted so he could rest his jaw against John’s hair, taking a deep breath in. 

Oh Jay, dammit . Scott had missed him so much.

He smelt so familiar; he was space and John and home. Scott’s brothers were his home, beyond the island, beyond Kansas, or Earth or space or whatever the hell else the universe was made up of.

Home, home, home, home, home. Scott mouthed the words near silently, a reminder, a promise .

Scott swallowed hard as John nuzzled into his shoulder. Like he knew exactly what Scott was thinking at any point, like he saw straight through him clearer than windshield glass of a Thunderbird, no matter he was trembling, John got him. 

Scott tried not to cry over all of that either.

His brother shouldn't be a shaky mess from just getting a cuddle, he should be demanding them off of Scott whenever he wanted to without care that they were busy, and fighting over who got to sit next to him on movie night like the others. 

Scott rubbed a hand up and down his back, promising himself first and foremost that they were all going to do better by John. Stars knew John would never say anything when he was hurting until he drowned beneath the gravity of it, alone on Five.

[astranite]

Of Model Planes and Kind Truths

More neurodivergent Scott and John, but as kids. They are both small and doing their best and trying to figure out how the world works. Lucy is here too and I love her and she's totally autistic too in my head. I wrote this ages ago and was only yesterday I was reminded of it and cheered on by the wonderful @janetm74 so I tidied it up to post!

---

Scott yelled at him because John said his model aeroplane didn't look like the one on the box. Which was true , the colours were all mixed together as Scott was too impatient to let them dry properly between painting and the whole frame was sort of squashed where it had fallen off of a table. Sticky globs of glue had adhered themselves to the wings providing most of the structural soundness. 

Scott had burst into tears when John pointed this all out. 

Their dad picked up Scott even though he was too big for it now and carried him out of the kitchen, leaving a bewildered John behind. Mum had to explain that words could upset people and Scotty was crying because he felt John was being mean to him. 

John attempted to explain. “But I didn't mean to be mean! I was just telling him, you and Dad always say to tell the truth.”

“Oh, little star. I know you didn't, but we can hurt people even when that isn't our intention.” 

Mum held out her hands and took John’s small ones in her own as his eyes welled up with tears. 

“You know what you can do to help make it better?” John shook his head as Mum continued. “Your brother worked very hard on making that plane. When you go apologise to him, can you think of some things to say that are kind and honest?”

John nodded, he could do that. He’d make this better.

In the lounge room, Scott sat on Dad’s lap, the model plane clutched to his chest. His face was all red and blotchy. John wiped his sleeve over his own face as Scott’s hurt and his hurt crumpled into a big black hole in his chest. He then flickered his hands at his sides.

John tiptoed across the carpet as it squished beneath his feet. Dad and Scott were looking at him; Dad was smiling a bit but his brother had frowny eyebrows. John stood in front of them, twisting his hands together anxiously. 

“I’m sorry I was mean about your plane. I wasn't trying to be. You worked really hard on it.” The words came out stilted and deliberate.

Now for something kind and true. John cast around for something to say, glancing about the room. Virgie had left their blocks on the floor, all set up in neat rainbow rows.

“It’s good because it’s makes you happy?” He told Scott. 

“And it’s swooshy.” John said it with all of the excitement of figuring out a new science problem, as the words now rushed out. “You painted it with lots of colours and I like colours and so do you. Mixing them together means even more colours!”

Scott’s mouth tipped up at the corners. “It’s okay. You were right, but it’s still cool. And yeah, it goes swoosh because it’s so fast!”

Scott swiped the toy plane through the air as if it was flying. John jumped back as it banked toward him. He followed it with his eyes as it dove and spun in Scott’s hands, as Scott jumped from Dad’s lap to run around the room with him, John matching his dips and turns like he was flying a space shuttle too until they were both grinning and everything was right again.

[astranite]

I finally finished this fic which I’ve been working on for a while. I’ll let the tags and the summary/first little bit speak for themselves as I’ve got no more words left. It’s 12,000 words as one thing so I’m just linking the Ao3 as opposed to making into into a do you like the colour of the sky and star situation!

Edit to add LOOK FABULOUS FANART OF MY FANFIC BY @lying4sport https://www.tumblr.com/astranite/748183025848909824/this-is-fabulous-and-i-love-it-and-thank-you

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go (Cartoon 2015) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: John Tracy & Scott Tracy Characters: John Tracy, Scott Tracy Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, this is what it is fundamentally but we do dive into the angst and the fluff, Autistic John Tracy, Scott Tracy has ADHD, Scott Tracy Has PTSD, Autistic meltdowns, References to Depression, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Chronic Illness, that's how i'm treating John's space issues, this is all written from a disability and neurodiversity lens and lot of my own experience, there's alot going on but there's also alot of love here, and acceptance, its about hope its always about hope ultimately, things are hard and they wont just fix themselves but it does get better, we just have to keep hanging on. all of us you and me together, its not a straight line there are alot of up and downs and emotions in this fic, as in life and everything because thats whats its like but its not impossible

Summary:

John threw his arm over his face as the lights suddenly turned on and tried to burn out his eyeballs.

Scott muttered apologies, voice kept considerately quiet. John heard the flick of the switch and the click of the door closing as all settled back to blissful darkness. Shuffling noises continued: the thwump of what he guessed was a very expensive suit jacket tossed carelessly over the back of a chair, a muffled curse as something was tripped over and the cracking of Scott stretching out his back. Then footsteps hushed by deep pile carpet came back to his side of the room. John kept his eyes screwed shut, arm still draped across his face. He could feel his own heartbeat, a touch too fast and in time with the throbbing pain in his head. The hotel sheets were a ridiculous thread count, all silky smooth with crisply made corners, but they scraped against his skin because they weren’t the same worn, soft ones he had at home or his sleeping bag up on Five which was also home. He’d be getting smotherhenned any second now that Scott had found him, but honestly, he was too tired to care.

—Sky and Star