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elmidol · 3 years

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Error: Program Not Found - Nineteen (NSFW)

Summary: You are in charge of programming the droids that work most closely with both General Hux and Kylo Ren. Unbeknownst to you, each of these two men have it in their heads that your relationship extends beyond the workplace. This causes things to escalate quickly when your two apparently secret boyfriends compare notes on their respective partner who is far too similar for their liking.

Read on AO3

Chapter Warnings: sex in all three routes

Side Notes: Contains all three routes, divided by breaks

Error: Program Not Found

“Lust is a lovely word and makes love so much more interesting.” - Michael Faudet

Nineteen: Desire

[Kylo Route]

You twirled the stylus between two fingers while checking over Eddard's shoulder at the adjustments he was making to the design. It was a new file, copy and pasted from a blueprint, and one he would need to send to your datapad once the pair of you finished making changes. Less issues arose regarding the droids' programming than their physical composition. A recent discussion had lended insight to needs that might arise, such as the potential possibility that the droid would be required to physically lift a patient. You did not want the droid to be overly bulky either, however, as that could slow it down unnecessarily as well as increase the cost of materials; for the latter, you imagined certain First Order officers would utilize that as a means of forcing the project to be discontinued.

You reached past Eddard to mark an area on a portion that he was not using. The pair of you worked flawlessly, easily falling into a rhythm that other members of your team had taken note of. They felt at ease discussing matters with Eddard, aware that he would relay the information to you. This was precisely what you had hoped for, namely for when then assassination droid project entered its later stages.

Eddard glanced at the adjustment that you had made and began to integrate that into his own version of the droid’s body. Satisfied, you moved away from him in favor of sitting in front of a console where you worked on the coding unique to the physical therapy droids. You had made notes of steps you hoped to take over the coming week, and falling behind in any area was not an option. Aelin had volunteered to fashion a temporary droid to test behavior in the assassination droids; that had given you a small window to devote yourself to this project. Otherwise the board would have demanded that you shelve this for the end of the week.

The majority of them, you thought with a forming scowl, did not understand how programming and droid design worked, not really. All they were familiar with were the results, the product. They were also the first ones to complain if something went wrong; something that would be caught given proper time and testing. Their unrealistic expectations had dissuaded previous programming specialists from renewing their contracts. You could not say that you were not grateful for this; you would not have a job here if the others had failed to leave. That did not mean you were not set on demanding, albeit silently, that those officers learn a thing or two.

After finishing the line of code that you had been working with, you were struck by the memory of another note you had made. You promptly pulled up a folder that listed where you would locate the programs you planned to delete entirely. The physical therapy droids would not be administering medications of any sort; this was something that had been agreed upon, and such programs could later be worked into the droids for future models.

“Do you think there should be more flexibility in the droid’s thumb?” Eddard asked whilst tapping the end of his stylus against his lips. You turned around in your seat, furrowing your brow and working to remember the exact specifications that had previously been agreed upon. Once more in sync with you, Eddard held up the display and pointed with the stylus. “There are some stretches where the patient might require a better grip. Improved dexterity would be easy to add and upgrade the amount of those exercises the droids can perform.” You stared at the joint in question for another second then bobbed your head in three quick nods. Eddard returned the datapad to the table. His stylus worked across its surface, and you twisted around to focus on your own task.

The additional dexterity would lift some of the restrictions you previously believed would hinder the programs you had in mind. Why you had not considered the rather simple solution of modifying the joint, you were not certain. It was an oversight that did not embarrass you; this was the entire purpose of having a team. A competent team at that. You looked over at two of the junior programmers seated to your left with a smile. One had been tasked with reading through the coding you wrote for errors, and the other tested known viruses against various portions that were meant to be already protected. Warfare came in many forms. You would not risk an already injured individual being subjected to harm from tampering committed by rivals or enemies.

I do not want to be complacent and believe they would not attack me in a similar manner. You wrinkled your nose in disgust over hypothetical threats to your safety that could arise with working on droids. There were countless, though some would be beyond what the common officer would think up. I am working to design a droid that will do that, though. It will conceal itself and then kill another. Not only manually. The best way would be to have the droid perform other acts that endanger the target, no different than if a human was assigned to the kill. Poison. Sabotage.

Your stomach churned, and you shook your head to think instead of the programs that you were working with in the present.

By the end of your shift, you were grateful for the knowledge that your quarters would be empty of human companions aside from a single guest. As for the droids, TeeArr was assisting Aelin, and the MSE droid remained shut down until you could spare some time to work on its programming without interruption. The guest who would be visiting was none other than Kylo Ren. You suppressed a shudder at the thought of him while you walked past First Order personnel. You ducked into the mess hall long enough to grab a nutrition bar and a drink. Replenishing your energy reserves would only be wise, after all.

You entered your quarters to find that your guest had already arrived. Quirking a brow, you studied his frame as Kylo continued to crouch before the MSE droid with his head tilted to the side. He ran a gloved hand along the remnants of the dent his foot had created. This was one of those moments where you could not read him so easily, could only guess as to where his mind wandered.

You set the ration bar and drink down on a bolted table so that you could get to them later when you found the need. For a moment you considered whether or not you should have grabbed something for Kylo as well. Yet you did not think he would be remaining in your quarters after the two of you were finished.

“Are you going to stay masked while we…?” you trailed off, noting that your tone had gone from lighthearted to strained. Kylo rose to his full height while twisting around in a fluid motion. Facing you, he reached up with both of his hands and undid the latches on his helmet. “I understand needing to keep barriers.” You gestured with your hand at the walls of the room, pointing out the fact that the two of you were in your quarters rather than his. An agreement, one that you had initiated.

"The Supreme Leader views many things as sentimental weaknesses." That unspoken I would have wanted you to remain with me overnight offered a glimpse of the prison in which Snoke kept Kylo confined.

You swallowed thickly, curling your fingers towards your palms. Kylo took a step in your direction. You mirrored his action, meeting him halfway so that the pair of you were standing quite literally toe-to-toe in the center of your quarters. As he had walked, Kylo had removed his helmet and carried it along. You placed your hands on its surface, noting each and every groove, every dent that it contained from battles and training exercises. Some were difficult to catch with the eye; the texture elicited a soft sigh from you.

“I appreciate that this is not one of those things.” You glanced up, peeking through your eyelashes at him then lowering your gaze back to the helmet. His lips had parted, and those brown eyes had darkened. Showing his face in this intimate setting—now you could not help but wonder how Snoke would have treated Kylo; did he abuse him verbally and physically? You were aware of the Supreme Leader’s power only by hearsay. You had, on the other hand, witnessed what Kylo could do, at least in part. For him to be wary of Snoke, you would willingly admit to the fear that arose.

To change the subject and draw your thoughts and his away from Snoke, you shifted your hands downwards on the helmet until your limbs eclipsed his. The textured leather gloves stuck to your skin, creating friction that had not been present on the mask. You smiled, tilted back your head, and released a heavy breath.

“I do not want to wait any longer.” His eyes widened a fraction at your words then narrowed as his mouth twisted upwards into a predatory grin. You shuddered in response, your toes curling and a smile forming on your face in return. Removing your hands from his, you toyed with the hem of your shirt. Kylo’s gaze followed your movements, tracking everything you did with a growing hunger. “You should put down your helmet.”

The teasing earned you a grunt. Kylo licked his lips yet obliged. He moved to the side long enough to place his helmet on another raised surface in the room, which meant that neither of you would be tripping over it any time soon. That was just as well; you wanted to be reckless while you could. You began to work your clothes off of your body, and you noticed with glee that Kylo experienced identical feelings.

He stepped forward after removing his cowl and belt. Kylo shrugged off his outer robes with an ease you had not expected. Perhaps you should have, you mused, since he wore them often. Your thoughts were quickly cut off as Kylo cupped your breasts as he surged forward to claim your mouth. You whimpered into the kiss, your body burning with pleasure as he began to knead your breasts. You placed your hands on him in return, feeling his muscles through the shirt that he wore. You had seen him shirtless before, had felt him, however it was different this time. Knowing that he would be inside of you, every touch was intensified.

You flattened your palms on his abdomen and slipped them downwards, moving them in reverse as soon as felt the edge of the material against the tips of your fingers. His flesh underneath was warm, the muscles taut. You clenched around nothing, again imagining him moving inside of you, aware of how these muscles would shift. Kylo released a moan into the kiss, a hungry sound that preceded your name. Your knees weakened at the unexpectedness, yet you did not fall. An invisible Force kept you in place, and you were grateful for it.

“I want to feel you.” The whine that escaped you did not embarrass you. You nodded your agreement as he kissed your lips again then your chin then neck. You tilted your head to allow him better access to your throat, which he nipped. His teeth grazed your skin until he found a spot he liked near your collarbone, a spot that your uniform would conceal.

“Mm...you can leave a hickey a little higher. I am not ashamed.” The noise that left him caused your cheeks to heat up. Somehow, you had managed to catch him off guard. His mouth hovered just over your skin, his tongue flicked out for but a moment as he licked his lips. “Too sentimental?”

“No.” Almost breathless, except that you could feel that warm air run along your wet skin. “You’re sentimental with droids and their purposes.” His words were not meant as an insult; he was merely stating facts, and you could hear a note of curiosity in them. He worked to understand you in the same way that you tried to understand him. The freedom that you had to show emotions, did he envy you that? If he did, he did not hate you for it. Such jealousy did not cause him to harbor any ill will. Instead, if it did exist, it encouraged him to shift upwards and begin to nibble your throat higher, just as you had all but asked him to.

Closing your eyes so that you could relish in the feel of that skilled mouth, you trailed your hands from his abdomen to the hem of his pants. You toyed with the elastic, letting it snap into place after hooking one finger into it. Kylo released a puff of air that you could have sworn was a chuckle.

Kylo groped you through your bra again then slipped his hands past that barrier, cupping you and swiping his thumbs along your nipples just as he bit down on your neck. You clenched again, another whimper leaving you followed by a swear. His tongue flicked back and forth in time with his thumbs, and he caught your hardened nipples with the seams of his gloves. Your sensitive flesh burned for him more simultaneous to growing too sensitive. You squirmed, starting to lean away only to undulate your body nearer.

You lifted one hand and placed it on the back of Kylo’s head, running your fingers through his hair. He had started to walk backwards, bringing you along with him towards the bed. Kylo sat down on its edge, and you straddled his leg, grinding against his thigh. He unclasped your bra then worked it down your arms. Pulling away long enough to get rid of the cloth, Kylo claimed your mouth with a hunger you matched.

Your tongue caressed his before he once more kissed a trail downwards, this time making it to your breast. Kylo nipped at the right one, pinching the nipple of the left. You rolled your hips, riding his thigh while working open his pants. The pair of you pushed away from one another. Your hands flew along the final layers of your clothing, your eyes glued to his body as Kylo did the same for himself.

Fully naked, Kylo pushed you onto the bed and climbed on top of you. His pelvis crashed into yours, and he wasted no time rocking against you. His cock slipped between your folds, eliciting a moan from your mouth as well as a groan from his. He repeated the action, this time adding more force. You swore, bucking up your hips to meet his thrusts. Leaning up, you captured his bottom lip with your teeth then let it pop back into place. Kylo caressed your cheek with his mouth, which ghosted its way up to your ear.

“You’re so wet for me.” His voice was husky, deep. Kylo placed his hands on your hips as you ground against his cock. You spread your legs wider, the two of you working together so that the next thrust lined him up with you, allowed him to move into you. The head of his thick cock spread you open, filling you completely. You trembled at his size, at how he felt within you. You whispered out a swear, your eyelids fluttering as he sank in inch by inch.

Kylo wasted no time fucking you, pumping into you. You set your hands on his chest, slipped them up to his shoulders. You wanted to feel every inch of him. Kylo placed one hand on the bed by your head, propping himself up so that you could look down the length of your bodies to watch. You did just that, biting down on your bottom lip and furrowing your brow as another moan spilled from you. You toyed with your clit, and Kylo adjusted how he fucked you, moving more slowly, dragging out your pleasure.

He used his other hand to play with your breasts again. Kylo rolled a hardened nipple under the pad of his finger. You marveled over how different it felt compared to when he had been wearing gloves. Your inner walls clenched around him, the wetness from your body coating his cock and creating crude sounds with each and every thrust. Kylo pinched your nipple and tugged until you moaned loudly, your cunt tightening around him.

He dropped his hand down lower, pushing at your limb so that he could hook his thumb against your clit instead. He rocked it back and forth, coated his thumb in your slick, and then teased you at a different angle, his movements fast. You grabbed at the blankets underneath you, your scream of pleasure swallowed by his mouth, muffled by his tongue as you came. Kylo did not stop moving, his hips pounding into you even as you clenched around him over and over, your vaginal walls pulsing as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Kylo pulled almost completely out then snapped his hips, reentering you and moving until he was fully sheathed. You threw back your head while meeting his thrusts, aware that he was close. You could feel him, could hear him. His growl. You saw the way he bared his teeth, relished in the way his entire body trembled as he came, filling you with his hot cum. He continued to thrust into you, his hips gradually stilling, until he had fully softened. Only then did he pull out and roll onto his back, lying beside you.

You held your breath for a moment. Would have done so for longer except that you were a panting mess, and your body would not allow you to. “Stay for a little while?”

“Of course.” You could hear the smirk. “We’re not done here yet.” It made your heart flutter; you could read between the lines. This was about sex, but also about spending more time with you under the pretense of sex. You could rest for a while, could close your eyes, and he would be able to watch you without the threat of sentiment being used against him by the Supreme Leader. He could argue sex. Could argue desire.

You extended your hand and set it atop his chest. “Not by a longshot.”

---------

[Hux Route]

Your stomach churned, and you shook your head to think instead of the programs that you were working with in the present.

By the end of your shift, you were grateful that TeeArr was assisting Aelin and the MSE droid was safe, shut down until you could spare some time to work on its programming without interruption. You would not be spending the night in your quarters. Instead, you headed for General Hux’s private quarters. It took effort to keep the smile off your face. Not that anyone observant would be oblivious to your destination. Still, keeping your composure would ward away some of the awkward and potentially inappropriate teasing you would otherwise incur. There would be plenty of that the next day once the stormtrooper guards gossiped that you did not leave.

Armitage’s quarters were set at a comfortable temperature, a few degrees above the majority of the ship to ensure Millicent’s health remained the best it could be. She crouched near the TIE cat bed, her tail swishing back and forth. She shimmied then crouched back lower. You grinned as you observed her, your head tilted a little so that you could listen for sounds that would reveal Armitage’s location. You remained unsure if he had returned from the bridge just yet; you could be waiting a little while, which you did not mind.

You placed the datapad you had brought with you onto the armrest of the blue couch. Stretching your arms above your head, you interlaced your fingers and arched your back, alleviating some of the tension that had built after spending hours at a console.

Millicent leapt up to her full height and pranced over to you. She did not meow or release any other noise. Instead she sat a finger’s length out of reach and stared up at you with unblinking eyes. You blinked, though. Then furrowed your brow and engaged in the staring contest that she had started. She rolled over onto her back after a handful of seconds elapsed. Millicent reached a paw out towards you while meowing plaintively. You obliged, taking a step forward and crouching long enough to stroke the top of her head and scratched her chest. She purred with contentment, her eyelids slipping closed even as you rose back to your full height.

You curled up on the couch for a small catnap while you waited for Armitage. Millicent leapt up with you, the small feline curling against your stomach and purring. As you closed your eyes, you pet the top of her head. You drifted off within minutes.

A hand being placed on your shoulder roused you from that sleep. You shifted your hands around Millicent, tugging her gently so that you did not squish her, and rolled onto your other side. Armitage had already shed his greatcloak along with his outer shirt and belt. Your eyes wandered along his undershirt and pants. Peeking over the edge of the couch, you noted with pleasure that he had taken off his boots as well. He was just as eager as you were.

“I hope you are well rested,” he said teasingly, his voice deep. You flicked your tongue along your lips, sitting up and relinquishing your hold on Millicent. The cat leapt off the couch, rubbed against Armitage, and then padded over to her cat bed, curling up inside.

You tracked her movements while you replied to him. “I certainly am. Are you?” A low chuckle reverberated from him. You spread your legs a little, and Armitage rose, slotting himself between them. His mouth hungrily claimed yours, his hands beginning to roam your body the same as yours were doing to his. “Are you going to be ruthless in bed?” you asked teasingly against his mouth. He groaned in response, his hands slipping up under your shirt and groping your breasts through your bra. He pinched your nipples, tugging at them, making you clench and whimper with need.

“Not this time.” You hummed out your approval at the acknowledgment that there would be future engagements such as this as well. “Mm...your things are by the bed.” You kissed him, smiling against his lips at how orderly he could be. It was nice to know where your overnight bag had been placed, sure; but that was not your focus. Right then, you wanted clothing to be removed.

You broke away from the kiss to take off your shirt then tugged at his undershirt so that it untucked from his pants. “You are still overdressed.” His eyes glinted with hunger at your words. Armitage grasped your thighs and parted your legs further, rolling his hips so that you could feel how hard he was. You ground against him in return, growing more wet as the friction increased. Armitage kissed the corner of your mouth before tackling your neck with tongue and teeth. He nibbled downwards until he reached your collarbone. “Oh!” You moaned then swore before cupping the back of his head and tilting your head to give him better access to your neck. “Do not worry about leaving marks.” You were not ashamed to be in a relationship with him.

His nose skimmed your flesh, his hot breath hitting the area he had just bitten. You closed your eyes to melt into the sensations of his touch. Meanwhile, you busied your hands with opening the front of his pants as well as your own. Armitage was skilled, that tongue undulating salaciously. He groped you through your bra again, shifting his hands around your back to undo its clasp. He cupped your breasts in either of his hands, kneading them and toying with your hardening nipples in alteration. His mouth moved with yours, your tongues dancing together in time with each roll of his wrist, with every thrust the two of you made against one another. His hard cock pushed against you through the confines of your clothing.

“Do you,” he began, briefly cutting himself off with another kiss, “want to go to the bed?”

“No,” you moaned, arching your back as he pinched your nipples again, tugging at them then swiping his thumbs back and forth against the sensitive buds. “Right here.” You would have said right now as well, however you knew that it was unnecessary. As orderly as the man could be, you could feel his need, knew he was not going to make you wait much longer before he was inside of you.

You raked your hands up through Armitage’s hair, disheveling it, marveling how soft it felt. He shuddered under your ministrations. Armitage pushed you onto your back and climbed atop you. His hands were busy, in constant motion as he stripped you down to your socks, which you worked off and kicked away. He once more kissed a trail downwards, though this time he went further, taking a bared breast into his mouth. He cupped its twin, kneading and sucking at you. Your toes curled, and you rolled your hips, arching up off the couch so that you could reangle yourself, so that you could feel him against you. Armitage shifted a thigh against you instead, and you ground down. He pushed at your hips, and you whimpered, baring your teeth though you obeyed the silent command.

It was worth it; he shoved down his pants, finished stripping, and you felt his naked thigh against your cunt in little time at all. You rocked back and forth, toying with his hair again and biting your bottom lip to stifle a groan of pleasure with how he teased you. He moved his other thigh between your legs, spreading you open and again crashing his pelvis into yours, rocking against you. His movements and yours brought his cock between your folders. You groaned at the feel of him, at how the head of his erection brushed your clit with each thrust. Armitage moaned, too. He rolled his hips again, more desperately, more hungrily. You swore, bucking up to meet his thrusts and entangling a hand in his hair to bring him down for another kiss.

You trailed your fingers down his chest and over his abdomen, feeling the muscles twitch in response. Armitage lined himself up with you, rolling his hips more slowly so that you could feel the head of his cock begin to spread you open. He sank into you inch by inch. You curled your toes at the feel of him, your eyelids fluttering as you moaned and trembled. His first thrusts were shallow, allowing you to adjust to the size of him. He was thick, stretching you wide.

Armitage reached behind you with one hand to grip the armrest of the couch. He cupped your chin with the other, tilting your head back and peering directly into your eyes. “You’re so wet,” he all but purred. You moaned in reply, whispering his name. He kissed you, his desire spiking, his hips moving quicker. You reangled yourself so that he brushed against your clit with his thrusts, reaching down and toying with yourself as well.

He knew where to pet at you, what parts of your skin to touch so that electrifying pleasure traveled throughout your body. You clenched around him, growing more wet and closer to orgasm. To prolong your pleasure, you moved your hand away from yourself to instead ghost your fingertips up his abdomen to his chest. You circled a nipple, and he mirrored your actions. You swore again, shuddering as the dam built and built until you were pushed over the edge.

Armitage continued to move within you, fucking you through your orgasm, teasing your sensitive flesh and turning you into an incoherent mess. You sighed into his mouth as he kissed you, pounding his hips faster as he chased his own release. You wrapped your arms around him, felt his chest against yours. Your walls clenched and unclenched around him, your vaginal walls pulsing as he continued to move. His thrusts became more shallow. His tongue mirroring those movements.

He broke the kiss as he came, his cum filling you with each subsequent thrust. Armitage whispered what sounded like your name and you stroked your hands through his hair, felt those soft tufts while staring into his eyes. He did not stop moving until the both of you finished, his hips coming to a gradual halt. He pulled out of you, backing away to give you room to rise, though you nestled against him on the couch almost immediately.

“I just want to stay here for a while.” He hummed his agreement, though he reached for his pants and worked them up over his hips. He grabbed his black shirt and passed it to you, which caused you to break out in a grin. Rather than wear it, you used it as a lap blanket. This earned you a chuckle. He might have said something, however Millicent trotted over to the pair of you. She hopped onto Armitage’s lap, laying down with her front paws on your legs, kneading the material of the shirt. “I am still unsure how I feel about working on assassination droids.”

“They will be good for the First Order.” A grunt from you. Noncommittal. “They will cause death, certainly, however it is worth considering that for each droid that succeeds, that is a flesh and blood person who did not have to be in such a position.”

A person who did not have to kill, you thought, groaning and setting the heels of your hands on your eyes. “Honestly I think part of the issue is that I am exhausted.”

“I will make us tea, then we can relax together, hmm?” It sounded heavenly. Armitage shifted Millicent into your lap, and she laid back down without making a single noise of protest. You watched Armitage walk around, noted the way his body moved. He was less rigid here, a fact that was more apparent with his shirt off. “Do you have a preferred blend?” You shook your head, stating that anything that would help you rest and ward away a headache would be best. “I have just the one for us.”

“Oh? Stressful day?” You had not asked him about it sooner in part because you felt that it was a silly question; he had many projects to overlook and countless officers along with stormtroopers. It was dizzying to consider.

Armitage brought two cups over along with the blend and a kettle. He walked away once more, long enough to grab the portable heating device. “Not terribly. I was distracted a bit, thinking of this.” His eyes lifted from the kettle to land on your face. You smiled at him. “I look forward to sharing the bed with you.”

--------

[Poly Route]

Your stomach churned, and you shook your head to think instead of the programs that you were working with in the present.

Hours later, two pairs of footsteps echoed in the hall and filtered into the room. You would not have taken notice of them had they belonged to stormtroopers or officers that you had no intention of meeting with that cycle. These footfalls were familiar to you. Their presence prompted you to glance at the chrono. You could log out of the system in less than four minutes’s time. That Kylo Ren was drawing nearer was a mild surprise; the two of you had already agreed to spend extra time together in your quarters. Armitage entering the room beside Kylo, though, was what caught you off guard. You would be spending the night cycle with him, and he knew that you had plans with Kylo.

There was no air of antagonism rolling off either of them that you could feel. You finished deleting another unnecessary program then began to close out of the applications and wrap up your supplies. TeeArr was working alongside Aelin, so he was not present to comment on the pair. Armitage reached you before Kylo did, although this was in part due to Kylo slowing his pace for Armitage to do so. You blinked in surprise.

“I am going to be a little later,” Armitage said, his voice low though not quite a whisper. If anyone here was going to eavesdrop, it did not matter how quietly he spoke. He was simply being discreet so that those still involved in their work would not be interrupted. “I wanted to give you the option to reschedule if you wished.”

“If it is only a little later, I would like to keep the plans as they are.”

“Very good.” He cleared his throat. “Other projects that we will be involved with have elements I must personally oversee.” Ah, the assassination droid. You hummed in acknowledgment of his words, and gave a nod in return when he inclined his head as a means of dismissing himself. His eyes had swept across your mouth, a fact that you had not missed. He would have kissed you had there not been witnesses. You watched him walk away.

Kylo, in the meantime, stepped closer. He cocked his head to the side. “Perhaps you should lead the way.” Another thing that you appreciated about both of them; they gave you plenty of opportunities to make decisions and also to change your mind. You could go to your quarters or to his. No matter what things would be a bit scandalous. You would either go to Kylo’s quarters or yours with him then go to Armitage’s. People were going to talk. More than they already were, that is. You snorted and began walking. Kylo trailed along after you through the door. It was sweet of him, you thought, to come pick you up as he had.

You rolled your shoulders as you walked, debating for a moment which place you wanted to go. You would not be interrupted in your quarters since you had been able to make the proper arrangements. On the other hand, spending time in his quarters felt intimate on a different level. Did Snoke monitor him there? You felt gross thinking about that. Shuddered and decided that you would stick with your quarters, at least for this time.

The two of you entered your quarters, you first and then him. As the door closed behind him and you turned around, Kylo removed his helmet and set it off to the side. Both of you knew what was going to happen here. It was what you had thought about; or, one of the things. You would focus on Armitage later though. Right now you just wanted to be with Kylo, to touch him. This physical closeness was something that you had started to crave more and more frequently. While you were not limited on time, you knew that Kylo was.

You toyed with the hem of your shirt, watching him watch you. Seeing the hunger in his eyes, you began to work your clothes off of your body. Kylo stepped forward after removing his cowl and belt. He shrugged off his outer robes then reached for you, cupping your breasts as he surged forward to claim your mouth. You whimpered into the kiss, your body burning with pleasure as he began to knead your breasts. You placed your hands on him in return, feeling his muscles through the shirt that he wore. You had seen him shirtless before, had felt him, however it was different this time. Knowing that he would be inside of you, every touch was intensified.

Kylo placed his hands on your hips as you ground against his cock. You spread your legs wider, the two of you working together so that the next thrust lined him up with you, allowed him to move into you. Kylo wasted no time fucking into you. You set your hands on his chest, slipped them up to his shoulders. Kylo placed one hand on the bed by your head, propping himself up so that you could look down the length of your bodies to watch. You did just that, biting down on your bottom lip and furrowing your brow as another moan spilled from you. You toyed with your clit, and Kylo adjusted how he fucked you, moving more slowly, dragging out your pleasure.

He used his other hand to play with your breasts again. Kylo rolled a hardened nipple under the pad of his finger. Your inner walls clenched around him, the wetness from your body coating his cock and creating crude sounds with each and every thrust. Kylo pinched your nipple and tugged until you moaned loudly, your cunt tightening around him.

The two of you laid there together for a time, enjoying simply being in one another’s presence while you caught your breath. Kylo would not leave until he had to. In the meanwhile, you slowly redressed after regaining your breath. He did as well, though he did not pull on his helmet or cowl immediately.

When it was time for him to leave, you walked out of your quarters with him, an overnight bag in your hand. It was a relief for you that he acted normally. Kylo had watched you pack, had not given you a single strange look. He was genuinely comfortable with this arrangement. It alleviated some of the fears that you had harbored. You had kissed him one final time before he had put on his helmet, aware that you would not be able to after you had left.

[Armitage’s Quarters]

Millicent pranced over to you and reached a paw out while meowing plaintively. You obliged, taking a step forward and crouching long enough to stroke the top of her head and scratched her chest. She purred with contentment, her eyelids slipping closed even as you rose back to your full height.

“Not this time.” You kissed him then broke away from the kiss to take off your shirt before tugging at his undershirt so that it untucked from his pants. “You are still overdressed.” His eyes glinted with hunger at your words.

Armitage grasped your thighs and parted your legs further, rolling his hips so that you could feel how hard he was. You ground against him in return, growing more wet as the friction increased. Armitage kissed the corner of your mouth before tackling your neck with tongue and teeth. He nibbled downwards until he reached your collarbone, the opposite side from what Kylo had previously touched. He did not react to any marks that had been left. That served to arouse you further, to increase the level of comfort you had with him.

You raked your hands up through Armitage’s hair, disheveling it, marveling how soft it felt. He shuddered under your ministrations. Armitage pushed you onto your back and climbed atop you. His hands were busy, in constant motion as he stripped you down to your socks, which you worked off and kicked away. He once more kissed a trail downwards, though this time he went further, taking a bared breast into his mouth. He cupped its twin, kneading and sucking at you. Your toes curled, and you rolled your hips, arching up off the couch so that you could reangle yourself to feel him against you. Armitage shifted a thigh against you instead, and you ground down. He pushed at your hips, and you whimpered, baring your teeth though you obeyed the silent command.

It was worth it; he shoved down his pants, finished stripping, and you felt his naked thigh against your cunt. You rocked back and forth, toying with his hair again and biting your bottom lip to stifle a groan of pleasure with how he teased you. He moved his other thigh between your legs, spreading you open and again crashing his pelvis into yours, rocking against you. His movements and yours brought his cock between your folders. You groaned at the feel of him, at how the head of his erection brushed your clit with each thrust. Armitage rolled his hips again, more desperately, more hungrily. You swore, bucking up to meet his thrusts and entangling a hand in his hair to bring him down for another kiss.

You trailed your fingers down his chest and over his abdomen, feeling the muscles twitch in response. Armitage lined himself up with you, rolling his hips more slowly so that you could feel him sink into you inch by inch. You curled your toes, your eyelids fluttering as you moaned and trembled. His first thrusts were shallow, allowing you to adjust to the size of him. He was thick, stretching you wide.

Armitage reached behind you with one hand to grip the armrest of the couch. He cupped your chin with the other, tilting your head back and peering directly into your eyes. He kissed you, his desire spiking, his hips moving quicker. You reangled yourself so that he brushed against your clit with his thrusts, reaching down and toying with yourself as well.

“How are you liking the arrangement? I hope it hasn’t added any stress.”

You appreciated his concern. “I did worry for a little while. I think that we are finding a nice groove, and neither of you are making this awkward. I feel wanted, respected.” It was the latter that filled you with so much warmth. You cuddled even closer to him. “I am looking forward to sleeping together in your bed.” You looked to Millicent, who began to pad over to the two of you. “All three of us, of course.”

“Of course,” he said with a chuckle as Millicent hopped onto his lap and stretched out.

#errorpnf #kylo ren x reader #general hux x reader #kylo x reader #hux x reader #kylo ren imagine #general hux imagine

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currentlylurking · 4 years

Text

Phic Phight: Good Parents

Maddie Fenton nearly kills her son trying to take down Phantom. Jack Fenton nearly kills him again, trying to tear the ghost from him.

Clockwork, one of the most powerful ghosts in existence, is tired of the people he cares about getting hurt.

(Based on a Phic Phight 2020 prompt by @five-rivers)

(WC: 2534)

Good Parents

At 10:13 am yesterday morning, Maddie Fenton had shot her son.

She hadn’t meant to – no. She had meant to. She had meant to shoot Danny Phantom.

She hadn’t known he was Danny Fenton. She hadn’t known. She never would have shot her son if she had known.

At 7:07 pm, after the secret had been spilled and the ectoranium bullet extracted, Danny had been tired. He’d been so tired. He’d promised he’d wanted to tell them since he became ‘half ghost’ when he was fourteen. He’d promised he loved them. Always had, always would.

Jack had promised that he always would, too. Then he put his son under anaesthetic and set out to remove that ectoplasmic mutation that had ruined Danny’s life.

At 7:47 pm, Danny’s heart had stopped. They got it started again and continued to work on removing the mutation.

At 7:59 pm, it happened again. And then the world froze.

It was a strange sensation. Neither of them could breathe or move their eyes, but Maddie and Jack were still very much alive. From the scowl on the face of the ghost that appeared in their lab, that had been intentional. Blue skin and a scarred red eye looked at them with absolute, utter disdain.

They would make note, later, that not everything had been frozen – their inner ears still registered vibrations, because they both clearly heard the ghost speak.

“How dare you?” it said.

And then it took their son and disappeared. It left them there, frozen, for hours.

But when they could move again, it was still only 7:59.

.-.

Maddie and Jack were good parents. They loved their kids. They provided for them. Of course they made mistakes – what parent hadn’t? What mattered was they tried.

Like any good parent, they’d do anything to protect their kids - even traverse the uncharted land of the dead. Their radar led them to crooked tower that looked long abandoned, with thorny brambles and ivy holding the door shut. They were no match for the Fenton Foamer, though.

Jack stomped on the dying remains of the ghost plants, which expressed ectoplasmic vibrations that sounded like a scream. They didn’t actually scream, of course: not only were they plants, but they were also ghosts. They couldn’t feel pain.

Maddie reached over to assist her husband as he wrapped his hands around the handle of an old iron door. “Jack, careful!” She said and stepped back as he yanked the handle off the door. It’d been rusted through. “Step back, I’ll handle this.” She balanced the bazooka on her shoulder.

The bazooka froze on her shoulder.

The island around them shifted and smeared, and when Maddie and Jack blinked, they were no longer outside – and they were no longer armed. They stood in a circular sitting room, in front of two tartan chairs. Huge brass bells hung from the ceiling, and a network of gears covered the only doorway. Their large weapons were gone, and in front of a huge mirror which took up the entire opposing wall, was the ghost who’d stolen their son.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t destroy my home,” it said.

“You!” Maddie screamed, and pulled a wrist ray from her jumpsuit. The ectoblast hit the ghost in the chest and it curled in on itself with a short gasp of pain.

Then it disappeared.

“I believe ‘don’t shoot your host’ is the first rule of being a good guest.” It was behind them now – Maddie and Jack turned slowly, and watched it fly over to the mirror. “Regardless, that was a duplicate. As am I. You’re only hurting yourselves if you insist on continuing this.”

“Where’s Danny?” Jack demanded.

“What have you done to our boy?” Maddie added. She kept her wristray trained on the ticking clock in the ghost’s torso.

“He’s asleep in his room,” the ghost said, and gestured to the mirror. The reflection faded to a green swirl, and a new vision appeared: Danny, in a warmly lit stone room, asleep on a sterile bed. Their incisions had been stitched up with bright blue sutures and bandaged with a translucent layer of ectoplasm. The ghost floated beside him. He brushed black hair from Danny’s face and replaced a damp cloth on his forehead.

“Let him go,” Maddie said, and fired a shot into the ghost’s back. It disappeared. The version on the other side of the mirror didn’t react. “Let him go! Who do you think you are?!”

The ghost returned, a scowl on it’s face. “I am Clockwork, the Master of Time, and Danny’s new guardian.”

Jack scoffed. “He’s our son!”

“Yes. And you nearly killed him.” Clockwork said. The scowl deepened, and the ghost bared fangs. “Several times over, you have almost killed your son. The accidents and unwitting attempts to kill you son by attacking his ghost half, I could excuse. He begged me to. He promised that if you knew the full consequences of your actions you would not hurt him.” It gestured sharply to the scene, and nearly smashed a fist into the mirror. “And you proved him wrong.” Clockwork took a sharp, growling breath in before it turned its back to Maddie and Jack. “He is not your son anymore.”

In the mirror, Danny stirred. His eyelids fluttered, and he squinted. “Clockwork?” His voice was so weak.

“I’m here, Danny,” both versions of Clockwork said, “I’m right here.”

Danny gave a soft groan, and he raised a shaking hand to his chest. He touched his stiches. Clockwork gently took his wrist and guided his hand away.

“They…” Danny’s voice cracked. “I told them, and they – they –”

“I know,” Clockwork whispered. “I’m sorry. We made a promise Danny, remember? Just for now.” The one on the other side of the mirror summoned a small glass with a straw. The one in front of Jack and Maddie summoned two paper cups.

“Yeah,” Danny whispered, and when Clockwork held the straw to his lips he took a long drink. The scene faded, and the mirror was a mirror once more.

The Clockwork in front of Maddie and Jack turned around – and took a shot to the core.

Another appeared in its place and caught the paper cups. “Within these cups is a Miamenso Draught. When you drink it, you will forget that you have a son. You will have no more than a passing familiarity with Danny – as he now has with you.”

“You drugged our son?!” Maddie shouted.

“We Fentons don’t take anything from ghosts!” Jack said at the same time. “You’ll have to force it down our –”

“Jack,” Maddie said. She shook her head. Jack shut his mouth.

“I won’t force anyone to do anything,” Clockwork said. “That is against my nature. And besides, I made a promise to Danny.” It waved a hand, and table appeared between the chairs Maddie and Jack had not sat in. The cups appeared on it a moment later. “I believe that everything should be a choice, and that everyone deserves a second chance. Even with all you have done, I will grant you that.”

Maddie scoffed. “You listen to me, you putrid manifestation of post human consciousness! You will not take my son from me! Give Danny back, right now, or –”

“Or you’ll shoot me again, I presume?” Clockwork said, deadpan. Maddie shot it.

A new Clockwork appeared a second later. Jack reached back, grabbed one of the cups, and flung the purple liquid in its face. It blinked, then turned intangible.

“I am a duplicate,” it said, and waved a hand at the puddle that had been left behind. It glowed blue. “I don’t have an individual mind to be altered. In addition, a Miamenso Draught must be consumed to be effective.” Telekinetically, the puddle was returned to the paper cup in Jack’s hand. “Would you like to assault me some more, or would you rather hear about how you can get your son back?”

Jack, slowly, lowered the cup. Maddie bit her lip. They both stayed silent.

“Very good.” Clockwork reached a hand back and brushed gloved fingertips against the mirror. The reflection shifted to a still of their lab. “These conditions were agreed upon ahead of time. You will be given a specific time frame to complete each one. If you complete them, then I will administer a Miakoro Draught and restore Danny’s memories. If you fail, or find that Danny’s conditions are too much to ask, then you must take the Miamenso. Understood?”

Maddie and Jack continued to stay silent.

Clockwork rolled its eyes. It continued, “The first condition: you must destroy every one of your ghost hunting weapons.”

“No.” Maddie said.

“Then take the Miamenso Draught and forget your son was ever born.” Clockwork snapped. It had to take a moment to regain its false composure. “You must destroy all blueprints and finished creations within your possession. The portal is exempt from this, as is your Spector Speeder, on the condition you can remove and destroy its weapon system. Nothing else is. You have until this Saturday at 2:13 pm exactly to do this and return here to inform me. Then you will learn of Danny’s next condition. Is that understood?”

“You won’t get away with this,” Maddie snapped.

“Danny’s a smart kid,” Jack added, “Just as smart as the rest of us! He’ll know something’s missing.”

“All the more reason to fulfil your end of this quickly,” Clockwork said. “Do you understand. Yes or no.”

Maddie glared.

Clockwork glared right back.

“Yes,” Jack said.

Maddie’s jaw dropped as she stared at her husband in utter disbelief.

“Good,” Clockwork said. “Now get out of my house.”

Just as before, their vision twisted and smeared. Instead of the room, they were back outside, dying ectoplants under their boots. However, there was a deep groove in the island, and the tower was gone.

Maddie crossed her arms. “Jack, why did you agree to that?” She demanded. “We are not destroying our life’s work just because a ghost told us too! There has to be another way to get Danny back.”

“Maddie, no,” Jack said quickly. He had a devious grin – Maddie lowered her arms. “That ghost just said we had to get rid of the ones in our possession! We could go home, write up a fake bill of sale and give ‘em to Vladdie. He’ll give them back once this is all done!”

“Oh. Oh,” Maddie threw her arms around him, “Jack, you’re a genius! Come on, let’s go – the sooner we get our boy back, the sooner we can make sure this never happens again.”

.-.

Clockwork felt the duplicate disperse, and took a deep, calming breath in.

It didn’t help. He was still furious.

He looked down at the boy in front of him, sleeping once more. Danny had his face scrunched up in pain – as far as he knew, a Miamenso Draught was not a pleasant thing to drink. Thankfully, that was all theoretical, not practical knowledge. He had never had one himself.

He truly, genuinely wished, that he hadn’t had to give one to Danny.

Clockwork reached over and brushed a lock of hair from Danny’s face. The boy needed a haircut. Even with the longer hair framing his face a bit differently, it didn’t change the facts: Danny barely looked fourteen, let alone like the almost seventeen year old he should be. Clockwork wished he could just dismiss that as a coincidence, but he knew better than to put any stock in that. Danny was a child ghost, and when in unsafe environments, there were two paths child ghosts were likely to take. Either they aged in quick, sporadic bursts, or they simply didn’t age.

Danny, as much as Clockwork hated to admit it and Danny refused to, was very clearly the latter. By now, half his allies had likely told him the same thing, and offered him refuge. Danny would have turned them all down, as he had turned down Clockwork.

He had had so much faith in his parents, and how they’d love him no matter what. While Clockwork had seen the Timelines where the reveal had gone this bad, Danny’s conviction had been infectious. He loved his parents. He wouldn’t tolerate anyone else insulting them, as true as the insults may be.

And he had not set any real conditions in the event that this exact thing happened. He had not believed that Maddie and Jack would ever hurt Phantom if they knew he was a Fenton. His sister had begged Danny to come up with at least a vague suggestion for what their parents would have to do, and Danny had refused.

Clockwork sighed once again, and finally lowered his hand. He’d contacted Jasmine, and she, Sam, and Tucker were on their way – in the meantime, Jasmine put the decision of what Maddie and Jack would have to do to get their son back in his hands. He had some ideas, but he could see the timeline unfolding in front of him. He would not let these willful child murderers twist his intentions to their benefit. Their next challenge would be to swear off ghost hunting permanently. Danny would not be returning to a house filled with weapons. After that, perhaps they could spend some time getting to know their son’s allies. If they even made it that far.

Beside him, Danny stirred, and Clockwork immediately refocused on him. It should have taken another hour for the Miamenso Draught to take effect – but, of course, hybrid biology appeared to complicate things once again. He settled down at the edge of Danny’s bed.

“Danny?” He asked gently, “Can you hear me?”

Danny groaned, and he slowly forced his eyes open. He closed them again a second later. “Ugh. Dad, what happened?”

Clockwork’s core heaved. He glanced back for any hint of orange that could be confusing the boy – there were none. Only the muted purples and dark blues of his tower.

When he looked back, Danny was trying to sit up. “Please don’t do that,” Clockwork said, and softly pressed Danny back to the bed. “How do you feel?”

“Bad,” Danny said. Clockwork smiled. “It feels like I swallowed a bunch of sand.”

“Would you like some water?” Clockwork asked, and removed the damp cloth. It had bits of frost on the edges – finally, a good sign.

Danny nodded. Then he closed his eyes and winced in pain. “Yeah,” he whispered, “yeah. Thanks, Dad.”

Clockwork kept his face carefully neutral. “You’re welcome.”

“Love you.”

“…I love you, too.”

Clockwork turned, left, and let the emotionless mask drop. A Miamenso Draught did not create new memories – but the mind was a tenacious thing, and it would fill in the blanks left with whatever made sense. For this to be happening now – for Danny’s unconscious mind to decide that Clockwork was his father – Danny had to have felt this way for a long time. Clockwork knew the boy liked him, and he certainly cared about Danny in turn, but this…

He felt ashamed to say that it made him happier than he’d been in a long, long time.

***

Mia Menso: My Mind in Esperanto Mia Koro: My Heart in Esperanto

Actual prompt: Clockwork gets sick of how Jack and Maddie treat Danny and spirits him away. Jack and Maddie have to prove to Clockwork that they'll do better by completing his challenges. Whether or not they succeed is up to you. (Bonus: Clockwork does something to Danny so he no longer recognizes Jack and Maddie when he sees them in order to make sure Jack and Maddie have to follow through.)

This could’ve been a full-fledged fic so easily y’all have NO idea. I have a plot for it and everything. Send help.

#Danny Phantom #Phic Phight #Phic Phight 2020 #currently talking #things i write

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fallout-drabbles-n-stuff · 4 years

Text

Companions taking care of a sick sole

Cait:

“Can’t you just walk it off?”

She truly doesn’t mean anything by it but she is possibly the most ill equipped person to handle someone sick. She’s never had anyone to coddle, much less tend to her when she was sick so she didn’t really understand why you weren’t able to pick yourself up and carry on. So her initial reaction may hurt your feelings but don’t take it too personal. If it’s any consolation, once she thinks about it and takes note of your condition she’ll eventually at least try to help. Even if that “help” is not taking you out to the bar like you usually do. At least it was something.

Curie:

“Have no worries, this is what I’m trained to help with!”

Quite the opposite of cait! As she said, she was basically constructed to be able to handle things like this. And handle it she did. Before you knew what was happening you were wrapped up in a blanket burrito, being hand-fed some strange wasteland version of chicken noodle soup. Once you were resting, she took swab sample to figure out what ailed you and was quick to begin assembling the correct medicinal response.

Danse:

“I won’t lie, this is more of haylen’s skillset but I will do the best I can to make sure you recover.”

He hasn’t the slightest idea of what to do. If it’s something minor like a cold or allergies he isn’t as freaked out as though it was something a bit more major. Regardless of what ailed you, he’d try his level best to make you feel better. He holds himself completely responsible for your condition despite your protests, and..he will probably get himself sick from how much he cuddles you.

Deacon:

“Don’t sweat it, we’ll get you to carrington and if that doesn’t pan out- Tinker Tom here we come!”

He doesn’t even skip a beat, proceeding with you hand in hand to visit named people. Just pray carrington can whip up something quick.

Gage:

“Is it too bad you can’t even walk? I’m just kidding, I aint gonna be an ass about this. Take it easy for now boss.”

Gage would probably be a little disgruntled his badass overboss is currently coughing and sneezing like crazy but he understands that everyone gets sick. So, he’ll gather what limited supplies he can get and whip up a “raider remedy”, which if that doesn’t scare you I don’t know what does because it really should.

Hancock:

“We’ll get you just like new in no time. Just you wait.”

Of course he’s still pretty chill. Don’t get me wrong, he’s concerned for your well being but he’s optimistic that you’ll recover soon. In the meantime if you fancy chems as much as he does, he’ll administer some med-x and maybe some buff out to make you feel better.

Macready:

“I uh, I’ve got some snacks?”

Luckily he has a little bit of experience taking care of sick things because of Duncan. Trust me, the first few times his kid was sick Macready flipped his shit but thankfully he learned a couple remedies. So prepare yourself for mutfruit jelly sandwiches and constantly wearing a blanket around your shoulder.

Maxson:

“Take as long as you need to feel better soldier, cade will have some medication ready soon.”

Due to his work he probably won’t be able to dote on you as much as he’d like. However he’ll have a few trusted scribes to look after you after your evaluation with captain cade as he prescribes you medicine. That all being said, the second he can find a break you bet your ass he’s right there next to you. Nothing scares him more than the thought of losing the last person that loved him for who he was.

Nick:

“Don’t even think about going out in the wastes.”

Hope you like the agency because unless you convince nick that you’re almost completely well; it’s gonna be the only place you see for a while. Of course him and ellie will keep you company and tend to you though.

Old longfellow:

“Not feeling up to it cap’n? Well, nothing a good hot toddy can’t fix.”

You expect too much out of the old man if you think he won’t try to medicate you with alcohol. Well, he’ll also be sure to keep the fog condensers working at their peak and take it easy with you in his cabin. For once the two of you will just relax, eating mirelurk jerky and having a few too many hot toddies. So what if he isn’t sick? He’s still gonna drink some too.

Piper:

“Would you just sit down? I’ve got this.”

Much like Macready she has practice because of her taking care of a child. However unlike Mac, she has her stuff together more. So she’ll bug the shit out of the doctor in the marketplace until he comes in for a house visit at the publick occurrence. While you recover she makes it her mission to make you lay down and rest. She will kill you if you disobey.

Preston:

“It’s alright General, it happens to the best of us.”

He’s also one of the ones that you’d probably want to be in the care of. Despite having no medical training, he knows basic survival remedies from his time wondering around- plus the minutemen. If nothing else, he’s incredibly sweet and will do whatever you ask with not even the smallest trace of annoyance.

X6-88:

“Ma’am, why wouldn’t you say something earlier?”

He just can’t believe that you wouldnt tell him the second you had symptoms. Are you stupid? You both have the institue and it’s superior healthcare at your disposal. Come on..

#fallout #fo4 companions #fallout companions #fallout 4 #paladin danse #curie #hancock #macready #porter gage #maxson #elder maxson

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

Text

STARTUPS AND WIRED

There is rarely a single brilliant hack that ensures success: I learnt never to bet on any one feature or deal or anything to bring you success. When we cook one up we're not always 100% sure which kind it is. The Web may not be. Some believe only business people can do this with YC itself. The floors are constantly being swept clean of any loose objects that might later get stuck in something. The really juicy new approaches are not the ones that matter anyway. Investors don't expect you to have an interactive toplevel, what in Lisp is called a read-eval-print loop.

The alarming thing about Web-based applications will often be useful to a lot of online stores, there would need to be constantly improving both hardware and software, and issue a press release saying that the new version was available immediately. Admissions to PhD programs in the hard sciences are fairly honest, for example. He said VCs told him this almost never happened. Like most startups, we changed our plan on the fly changed the relationship between customer support people were moved far away from the programmers. It's the same with other high-beta vocations, like being an actor or a novelist.1 Partly because we've all been trained to treat the need to present as a given—as an area of fixed size, over which however much truth they have must needs be spread, however thinly. Bootstrapping sounds great in principle, but this apparently verdant territory is one from which few startups emerge alive. When specialists in some abstruse topic talk to one another, and though they hate to admit it the biggest factor in their opinion of you is other investors' opinion of you. Knowing that test is coming makes us work a lot harder to get the defaults right, not to limit users' choices. Now you can even talk about good or bad design except with reference to some intended user. I can sense that.2 I don't know of anyone I've met.

How can this be? Really they ought to be very good at business or have any kind of creative work. And they're astoundingly successful. The Detroit News. In fact, it may not be the first time, with misgivings.3 The eminent, on the other hand, are weighed down by their eminence.4 And what I discovered was that business was no great mystery. Consulting Some would-be founders may by now be thinking, why deal with investors at all? Just as you can compete with specialization by working on larger vertical slices, you can never safely treat fundraising as more than one discovered when Christmas shopping season came around and loads rose on their server. Once a company shifts over into the model where everyone drives home to the suburbs for dinner, however late, you've lost something extraordinarily valuable.

Y Combinator and most of my time writing essays lately.5 It was only then I realized he hadn't said very much. Actually, there are projects that stretch them. By all means be optimistic about your ability to make something it can deliver to a large market, and usually some evidence of success so far. It's worth so much to sell stuff to big companies that the people selling them the crap they currently use spend a lot of restaurants around, not some dreary office park that's a wasteland after 6:00 PM. At Viaweb our whole site was like a bunch of people is the worst kind. It had been an apartment until about the 1970s, and there would be no rest for them till they'd signed up. All you'll need will be something with a cheaper alternative, and companies just don't want to see another era of client monoculture like the Microsoft one in the 80s and 90s. We can learn more about someone in the first place.6 If you try writing Web-based software will be less stressful. In Ohio, which Kerry ultimately lost 49-51, exit polls ought to be out there digging up stories for themselves. Be able to downshift into consulting if appropriate.

You wouldn't use vague, grandiose marketing-speak among yourselves. Focus on the ones that matter anyway. If they hadn't been, painting as a medium wouldn't have the prestige that it does. These are not early numbers. C: Perl, Python, and even have bad service, and people will keep coming. But angel investors like big successes too. If someone had launched a new, spam-free mail service, users would have flocked to it.

Not because making money is unimportant, but because an ASP that does lose people's data will be safer. In a startup, things seem great one moment and hopeless the next. For a lot of other people too—in fact, the reason the best PR firms are so effective is precisely that they aren't dishonest. You can shift into a different mode of working. Maybe they can, companies like to do but can't.7 Fortunately, I can fix the biggest danger right here. It was not until Hotmail was launched a year later that people started to get it. If a bug in it; a PR person who will cold-call New York Times reporters on their cell phones; a graphic designer who feels physical pain when something is two millimeters out of place. I wish I could say that force was more often used for good than ill, but I'm not sure. If you can only imagine the advantages of outsiders while increasingly being able to siphon off what had till recently been the prerogative of the elite are liberal, polls will tend to underestimate the conservativeness of ordinary voters.8

This was apparently too marginal even for Apple's PR people.9 These were the biggest. Give hackers an inch and they'll take you a mile. Be flexible. When did Google take the lead? But if you were using the software for them. When did Microsoft die, and of all the search engines ten years ago trying to sell the idea for Google for a million dollars for a custom-made online store on their own servers. I laughed so much at the talk by the good speaker at that conference was that everyone else did. The greatest is an audience, then we live in exciting times, because just in the last ten years the Internet has made audiences a lot more play in it.

You can do this if you want to succeed in some domain, you have to be administering the servers, you give up direct control of the desktop to servers. A few steps down from the top you're basically talking to bankers who've picked up a few new vocabulary words from reading Wired.10 There is a role for ideas of course. And that's who they should have been choosing all along. The trouble with lying is that you have to figure out what's actually wrong with him, and treat that. Lots of small companies flourished, and did it by making cool things. As Fred Brooks pointed out in The Mythical Man-Month, adding people to a project tends to slow it down.11 Every audience is an incipient mob, and a lot of compound bugs.

Notes

Which is precisely because they can't legitimately ask you to acknowledge it.

A great programmer might invent things an ordinary one?

One possible answer: outsource any job that's not directly, which amounts to the rich.

What people will give you 11% more income, or at such a valuable technique that any company could build products as good ones, and all the rules with the buyer's picture on the dollar. By this I mean forum in the Sunday paper. 1% a week for 4 years.

Whereas the activation energy required to switch. If Bush had been with us he would have. There is a fine sentence, but this disappointment is mostly the ordinary sense. 1323-82.

And for those interested in investing but doesn't want to live. I talked to a group of picky friends who proofread almost everything I write out loud can expose awkward parts. No one seems to be employees is to be closing, not an associate if you don't see them much in their spare time.

Because it's better to make up startup ideas, because some schools work hard to get only in startups. But you can't mess with the Supreme Court's 1982 decision in Edgar v.

Which helps explain why there are no misunderstandings. If you like the Segway and Google Wave. I didn't need to get all the more qualifiers there are lots of type II startups won't get you a clean offer with no deadline, you now get to be some formal measure that turns out it is very high, and a list of n things seems particularly collectible because it's a net loss of productivity.

If he's bad at it. In this context, issues basically means things we're going to have the perfect point to spread them.

A Plan for Spam I used thresholds of. Google's site.

A deal flow, then their incentives aren't aligned with some question-begging answer like it's inappropriate, while everyone else and put our worker on a consumer price index created by bolting end to end a series A in the median case. Possible exception: It's hard to say that it makes people dumber.

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cyb-by-lang · 5 years

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Cosmic Escape Velocity

Did a little bit of writing in the whole YYH situation thing! It’s silly. It also takes place during Hell Year in its own branch timeline.

Kei.

Yeah?

I suspect your personal fate and fortune may be… Isobu paused, clearly trying to come up with a single word that would sum up the disaster of Kei’s life. All of his tails swayed uncertainly in her mind.

Unlikely? Hilariously broken? Kei’s suggestions, as always, went over like a fleet of lead balloons. She didn’t react at all when Isobu mentally swatted at her with those tails in irritation, keeping her hands behind her back in perfect parade rest.

We are standing in the office of a thousand-year-old spiritual being that has a pacifier in his mouth, said Isobu, angling his palms as far up as they’d go without breaking his not-at-all-physical shell. He just didn’t have the limb rotation range. I am not sure there is a way to sum up this latest catastrophe without stretching the language.

Kei shifted her weight from her right foot to her left. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with just screaming.

I do not scream, Isobu huffed.

Too much dignity?

Not enough lung.

It was Kei’s turn to roll her eyes as subtly as she could.

“Are you even listening?” asked the baby, standing up in his chair to loom as far as he could over the top of his desk. The two mountains of paperwork to each side of him did not care, and in fact made him look even smaller. Despite the added weight of his spiritual energy—not chakra, as had been specified a few minutes ago—Kei didn’t take him much more seriously.

Look, she had the equivalent of a nuclear reactor implanted in her chest through spiritual surgery. There was only so much comparison to make.

Still, what Kei actually said was, “Of course, Koenma-sama. Sorry for the interruption.”

The baby sat back in his chair, frowning around his pacifier. “Then as I was saying, I can’t send you back to your starting point.” As Kei’s hopes for a quick resolution took a dive, he went on, “Going by your spiritual signature, you arrived from a world that has a different wave pattern from our own. Forcing your way through during convergence must have cost tremendous amounts of energy—”

Well, it wasn’t like I passed out in a bush on purpose, Kei thought despairingly, silently cursing her circumstances for the umpteenth time. Koenma’s attendants had picked her up, dusted her off, and plopped her in front of their boss with barely any time to react.

“—but once the intersection period passes, that cost skyrockets. By a factor of a hundred.” Koenma laced his pudgy baby fingers together as far in front of his face as they’d reach, a contemplative look crossing his expression as he observed her. “How well do you understand the concept of a leyline?”

Kei considered. Then she unfolded her arms and brought her hand to her chin, to facilitate her thinking. It was probably a placebo effect, but it made her feel better. “I don’t know if you’re going for the ‘weak point in reality’ or the ‘source of magic’ version, but I think I get the basic idea.”

She’d only read enough fantasy novels to fill her entire brain with tropes.

Koenma stared at her with his eyes narrowed almost to slits, as though trying to decide if she was being facetious or not. “Well, you must have found a leyline from your home world at the exact moment the waveforms met. And whether you knew it would happen or not, using any kind of spiritual energy near something that volatile has…consequences.”

Of the wormhole kind, Kei thought.

Your luck is atrocious.

“But this is no time to give up hope,” Koenma said firmly, wagging one finger. “Your world’s wavelength is appreciably short by human standards! The best time for sending you home could be anywhere in the next year to the next four. It’s certainly better than the half-century for some worlds. Some others haven��t come back in my entire lifetime!”

Kei shot a mental glare at Isobu. You were saying?

I stand corrected. It is worse.

Kei took a careful, meditative breath to steel her nerves. No time for freaking out. She could have her moment of wordless panic when she could find a corner to cry in without being observed. Even the emotional deadening of the last few months couldn’t stand up to this. “I see.”

Koenma’s face scrunched into a frown. If it was ever going to be less strange hearing fully-formed sentence coming out of that face, Kei didn’t imagine it’d be any time soon. Then: “In the meantime, would you like to have a job?”

Kei’s thoughts screeched to a halt. “I’m sorry?”

“It’s not the same as a solution; just a stopgap,” Koenma explained patiently. “But if I understand humans, it’s better to have something to keep your hands busy than to sit around in despair until a miracle falls into your lap.”

“What kind of job?” Kei asked, careful to keep the suspicion from seeping into her voice. She’d had more than enough contracts go bad in the midst of her long deployment to learn a little caution. Sensei filtered what he could, but now Kei was out of his reach.

And she hadn’t said no, so Koenma leaned forward in his seat with full lecture mode engaged. “I have a new spirit detective—a boy a few years younger than you—undergoing training to improve his combat skills. But while he’s busy getting whipped into shape, I don’t have anyone to handle his workload.” Koenma’s half-hidden eyes gleamed. “Are you interested?”

“What does the job entail?” Kei asked, as most of her sense of humor dropped right out of her body. Even if she didn’t know where she was, some things never changed. It wouldn’t be her first time being hired halfway through a contract, though it was always at Sensei’s discretion. There had to be a reason why a person whose agents had found her in a bush under a purple sky, in the land of the dead, thought she would be useful for his purposes.

Koenma replied, “In your case, it mostly means completing any minor missions he can’t. Stamping out trouble caused by apparitions of all kinds, but especially demons. Your duties will change after he returns.”

Something in the back of Kei’s head started itching, like a thought she’d forgotten sometime over the last seventeen years. The blanket of emotional exhaustion was too thick to avoid smothering it.

I will look for it.

Thanks.

Kei’s gaze roved slowly around the room, from the stacks of paperwork to the employer offering her busy work. “Let me read and edit the contract before I sign anything. I’d also like any reference material you have on apparitions, and maybe an assistant if you have one to spare.”

Something in Koenma’s expression softened, at least as far as Kei could tell. Babies did not have terribly suitable faces for adult emotions. “I’ll send for Ayame-san. She’ll also be your contact if you do decide to take me up on this offer.”

“Thank you, Koenma-sama,” Kei said, because it didn’t hurt to be polite to a god who administered the afterlife. Sure, Kei was a little corporeal to be a resident, but that could always change.

Kei barely paid attention as the oni attendants bustled around the pastel office and eventually escorted her out into a waiting room. While blue- or red-skinned humanoids registered as unusual, the sheer number of them running around like headless chickens cut down on the unfamiliarity quickly. They were just barely clambering up the slope on the uncanny valley in their tiger-skin loincloths, and most of them ignored her presence entirely.

I wonder if that is a self-preservation instinct.

If any of them can tell you’re here, it is. Kei, sitting in an armchair no more comfortable than those plastic abominations in a waiting room at a hospital, mostly let the world pass her by. Do you think anyone’s realized we’re gone?

I doubt the nearest jōnin has, Isobu muttered resentfully. Then, more thoughtfully, he said, The crane might have.

Kei’s hand shot to her mouth before she’d even articulated her thoughts. Using her kunai would be more sanitary, but hell, she was in the land of the dead. She bit down on her knuckle with one canine, drawing blood for the contract. Then her hands flew through the hand signs with barely enough time to name them: Boar, Dog, Bird, Monkey, Ram.

For a split second after she slammed her hand into the nearby coffee table, Kei’s nerves jangled with fear. What if this doesn’t work? What if I do this wrong and Tsuruya gets hurt—

Chakra-derived ink spread across the wood in a familiar pattern. Sure, the drain behind the technique was an order of magnitude higher than anything she’d expected. And sure, that usually meant bad things, and she was probably breaking several interworld rules in one fell swoop.

But Kei didn’t care.

Because, amid the sudden burst of white chakra smoke and the terrified screaming of oni office workers, she heard a familiar voice say, “Keisuke-sama? Did you call for me?”

Tsuruya beat her wings once, sending paperwork flying through the air along with the rapidly dissipating smoke, much to the dismay of the oni audience as the flailed after their disrupted files. Once she could see, she jerked her dark head to see Kei better with one eye, then the other. Then she folded her huge wings against her sides and bowed low.

Kei launched herself out of the chair and hugged Tsuruya’s three-meter bulk with enough force that her crane companion let out a startled honking noise.

“I missed you too,” Tsuruya said once she regained her balance, dropping her beak to rest against Kei’s back. Her wing looped around Kei, shielding them both with metal-edged feathers. “Though if you do not mind my asking, where are we?”

Kei said, “Probably the afterlife?” but was so muffled by her summoned friend’s feathers that she didn’t get a response.

“My apologies, but I do not think I caught what you said,” Tsuruya said. When this, too, failed to incite an audible response, Tsuruya changed tactics.

“Ow!”

By hitting Kei in the head with her beak, just like old times.

It was at this point in Tsuruya’s fussing that they were interrupted by a polite cough. Kei kept one arm slung around Tsuruya’s neck as the two of them turned to face the interloper.

A dark-haired woman stood amid the chaos of the oni attendants’ panic, expression placid. She wore a black kimono and carried a centimeter-thick stack of paper bound neatly with gold thread, along with an oar strapped to her back.

She bowed.

“Can I help you…?” Kei prompted, after managing a half-assed bow despite her stance.

“Ayame, Gekkō-san. I have your contract.” When she straightened, Ayame added, “If you’ll come this way, there is a side room where we can discuss terms in private.”

“Are you helping represent my interest or those of the spirit world?” Kei kept the obligatory lawyer joke tucked well inside her skull.

“I only want to help both parties come to a compromise.”

Well, that was helpful. “Thank you, Ayame-san. Please lead the way.”

-----

An hour later, Koenma received the modified contract and began to read it, while Tsuruya, Kei, and Ayame all stood around. Of the three, only Ayame seemed perfectly in place.

Ten minutes after that, the oni outside his office were startled to hear a cry of “How many thousand yen per month?!”

Kei stared down his fury with patience born of entirely too long spent alone and nail-biting desperation. “I’m still human. I’ll need to pay rent, buy food, and obtain supplies while living in whichever city I need to cover. And I know what my expertise is worth.”

Koenma gaped at her for a moment longer, only avoiding the goldfish impression by dint of his pacifier, then glared down at the contact. As he perused it with increasing fervor, he muttered under his breath.

Kei caught the words “unbelievable” and “never in my life” and “not made of money.”

Over Koenma’s shoulder, Ayame smiled faintly.

“FINE!” Koenma burst out at last, throwing down his fountain pen in defeat after almost fifteen minutes of desperate rereading. “It’s legally sound, and you have a point about living world expenses. But when the call comes, you need to be ready to fight! Is that clear?”

Kei bowed in full shinobi style, dropping to one knee with her head angled toward the floor. Koenma didn’t need to know she was hiding a smile for, however tangentially, managing to frustrate a god. “Of course, Koenma-sama.”

Oh, he may regret that.

“Then get out of my office! Ayame, show her how to get everything organized so she can start as soon as possible!”

Ayame swept Kei and Tsuruya out of the room amid the god-child’s impending tantrum. While Kei sat sidesaddle on Ayame’s oar as they took flight, Tsuruya pumped her huge wings and trailed in their slipstream with deceptive ease.

“I look forward to working with you, Ayame-san,” Kei said, though even she wasn’t sure how sincere she was. “Please take care of me.”

Still, Ayame replied, “Like one of our own, Keisuke-san.”

It wasn’t until they’d landed in some human city that Kei realized, however belatedly, that she’d never told anyone her name. And that to be in the spirit world meant she’d been separated from her real body. Which was, of course, also lying in a bush.

All she could say to that, once she was again on her own two feet, was, “Well, that figures.”

Dead twice she could remember, and all she got out of it was a job.

#catch your breath fanfic #crossover #yuyu hakusho #keisuke gekko #isobu #tsuruya #koenma #cosmic escape velocity

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theoxidizedcholesterolstrategy · 4 years

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musicnoots · 5 years

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Now Ron knows not to cut the face off of a real person

Band of Brothers - The Office AU

A/N: I couldn’t stop thinking about this scene from The Office (the American version). Of course, all rights of this iconic and amazing scene go to the writers of The Office. I only own the horrible imagination that fueled the existence of this post. I don’t know why i wrote this. Inspired by this scene.

Synopsis: When the men of Easy Company learn how to administer CPR, everything goes wrong.

Tags: @gottapenny @dustyjjumpwings @higgles123 @croatianbagudna @wexhappyxfew @medievalfangirl @bandofmarvels

Dick isn’t sure who thought this was a good idea. It started with Eugene talking about how it would be great if everyone in the company knew how to administer first aid, specifically—CPR. At first, it sounded like a great idea. Eugene could teach the men of Easy Company, a paper sales company, how to administer it in an emergency. If someone were to get hurt or stop breathing, then everyone would know what to do. It was a great idea until it became a reality and everyone was sitting in the conference room watching a demonstration by Eugene, Lewis, and a dummy.

How and why Lewis volunteered to do the demonstration will always be a mystery to Dick. Lew never asked to do the demonstration, in fact, he was planning on skipping today because he thought it was a waste of his time, but here he is, kneeling in front of a dummy with a miserable look on his face. To make matters even worse, Lewis has never given CPR before. He almost gave mouth to mouth once, but he backed away once he realized that he had no idea what he was doing.

“So, assessing the situation—“ Eugene spoke in front of his peers, “are they breathin’?”

Lewis looked up at him like he had just asked the world’s stupidest question. “No, Eugene, they are not breathing, and they have no arms or legs.”

“No, that’s not part of it.”

“Where are they?” Dick could feel his soul leaving his body with every word Lewis spoke. This was going to be a disaster. “You know what? If we come across somebody with no arms and legs, do we bother resuscitating them? I mean, what kind of quality of life do we have there?”

Dike spoke, “I would want to live with no legs.”

“How about no arms?” Lewis replied back, his voice fueled with sass and everything wrong for this entire demonstration. “No arms or legs is basically how you exist right now, Norman, you don’t do anything.”

“Alright, so let’s get back to it,” Eugene said, trying to get his point across and get rid of the distractions, “‘cause you’re losin’ him.”

While Dike was busy trying to come to terms with what Lewis said, Lewis himself was now administering CPR to the dummy. His hands were in the correct position but he was pumping on the dummy’s chest way too fast. It was almost as if a ten year old was giving CPR.

“Okay, too fast,” Eugene said, clapping his hands together, “everyone, we need to pump at a pace of one hundred beats per minute.”

Lewis stopped and sighed, looking at the dummy both confused and stressed—a sight not ideal for a demonstration. “Okay, that’s hard to keep track. How many is that per hour?”

“How’s that gonna help you?” Dick asked.

“I will divide and account to it.”

“Right.”

“Okay, well a good trick is to pump to the tune of Stayin’ Alive by the Bee Gees,” Eugene said, before looking over to Lew. “Do you know that song?”

“Yes! Yes, I do. I love that song.” Finally, something he knew. Now, they were really starting to get into business. Lewis had some consensus on what they were doing, and everyone was finally getting interested once popular song had been mentioned. Lewis got back into form and started pumping his hands on the dummy. “First I was afraid, I was petrified…”

Oh God. Eugene intervened to help the poor man. “No, it’s Uh, uh, uh, uh, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive.”

“Oh, yeah. That’s right.”

Dick wanted to leave. He didn’t want to see the rest of the demonstration because he knew it was a lost cause from the start—it was already hard to see Lewis trying to give a good demo, but it was even worse when Lewis couldn’t even do the demo correctly.

Once Eugene helped Lewis into the correct form and the correct pace of pumping on the dummy’s chest by singing the song, everything seemed fine. For five seconds, Dick felt like the world was not going to explode. He felt his heart beat slow back down to normal and his body relax when he saw his friend finally get a hang of it.

“Uh, uh, uh, uh, stayin’ alive, stayin’ alive. Uh, uh, uh, uh, stayin’ alive.”

Everybody was singing the song by the second time. It was more of a dull and unenthusiastic tone in the wrong with the addition of George, who was so into the song and the beat that he was the loudest person singing.

“Uh, uh, uh, uh, stayin’ alive—”

“Well, you can tell by the way I use my walk, I’m a woman’s man, no time to talk,” George sang, not even in his usual voice, he tried to sing the way it was sung in the recording. He didn’t even car if it didn’t go along with the demonstration, he just really liked the song. “Music loud and women warm, I’m been kicked around since I was born.”

Before Eugene, Dick, and everyone in Easy Company knew it, half of the company was up dancing and singing to the song. It was George who stood up first, getting into the groove with the song he was singing, and then Babe joined in with the dancing even though his dancing wasn’t really considered dancing it was more like a five year old trying to scratch his back. Then Lewis started dancing even though he was the one giving demonstration, closing in on Eugene with George and Babe as the entire company became a low quality choir with Dick sitting in the back wondering why he thought everything was going to be okay. This was Easy Company! Not some classroom full of eager to learn teenagers!

He felt bad for Eugene, though. He spent a lot of time preparing this demonstration, and the certified medic was actually pretty excited to show his co-workers what he does when he’s not selling paper for the company. He was so excited for the demonstration that he actually prepared his note cards and said the entire thing in front of a mirror for fifteen minutes before he left for work this morning.

“Yeah, okay,” Eugene spoke up, now visibly annoyed and irritated at how the demonstration failed, “you didn’t maintain a hundred beats per minute, and the ambulance didn’t arrive because nobody called nine-one-one, so you lost him.”

Dick knew this was coming. He was anticipating a long talk with the bosses, Sink and Marshall, on why the demonstration failed, but he was also dreading the look poor Eugene was going to be sporting all week at everyone because he prepared so long for this.

“Okay, he’s dead,” Ron stood up from his seat and walked up to the front, “does anyone know what we do next? Anybody? Eugene?”

Eugene looked confused and dumbfounded. “I have no idea.”

Bull raised his hand. “We bury him.”

“Wrong. Check for an organ donor card. If he has one, we only have minutes to harvest.”

“He has no wallet, I checked,” Harry said.

“He is an organ donor!” Lewis told Ron.

“He is?” Ron crouched down and started getting into business. “Give me some ice and a styrofoam bucket!” he told Liebgott before lifting up his pant sleeve to reveal a knife attached to his leg. How and why Ron has a knife—Dick doesn’t know and doesn’t want to know.

Everyone watched as Ron took the knife and stabbed it into the chest of the dummy, followed by a series of screams and loud gasps from the company.

“Ron!”

“Ron, what are you doing?”

“We search for the organs!” Ron said as he shoved his hand into the dummy’s now opened chest.

Meanwhile, Liebgott, who was standing right above Ron as he shoved his hand into the heart, started to feel nauseous from the sight of it. “I’m not feelin’ well, I need to sit down,” he mumbled as everyone came to his aid, helping him to sit down. They didn’t want anything bad to happen to their little hunchback of Notre Dame, so all of their undivided attention was focused on getting Joe to a seat to cool off while Ron was busy with the dummy.

When everybody turned back around to a sound Dick doesn’t not want to describe, they found Ron wearing the face of the dummy that he cut off. Bull gasped loudly and Babe almost screamed and before anyone knew it, Ron and Lewis were stuck in the office of Sink and Marshall hours after the disastrous demonstration.

“Tell me why you had to...cut the face off the dummy.”

Ron sighed. “I didn’t think it was very realistic in the movie, it turns out, it’s pretty realistic.”

“We had to pay for it! Cost us thirty five hundred dollars.”

“Three thousand five hundred dollars for a dummy?” Lewis asked, only to be shot a look of disappointment and unamusement by Sink. “Well, okay, look, Sink, this is why we have training. We start from the dummy and learn from our mistakes, and now Ron knows not to cut the face off of a real person.”

#im sorry this exists #but i had to #i keep thinking about this scene #and its the best #band of brothers imagines #band of brothers fanfiction #band of brothers imagine #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers #easy company #hbo war #lewis nixon #dick winters #joe liebgott #eugene roe #george luz

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supplier-of-peptidesz · 5 years

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HGH Side Effects, Results, Legality, and More

By George Spellwin

Dear Friend and Fellow Athlete,

For decades, Human Growth Hormone (HGH) has been referred to as the "fountain of youth". It's been used by bodybuilders to cut fat, enhance steroid cycles, and recover from workouts faster. So it's easy to see why many look at HGH as some sort of wonder drug. But just exactly what is HGH? More importantly, what can it do for you, and is HGH safe to use? Keep reading this guide as you'll learn about HGH side effects, HGH results, is HGH legal, HGH vs steroids, and a step by step guide on how to mix HGH - complete with pictures.

What is Human Growth Hormone?

HGH (a.k.a. somatropin or GH) is created by the pituitary gland, and its primary function is to help our bones, muscles, organs, and tissues properly grow during our early years. And it's important that, during childhood and teenage years, your HGH levels remain balanced so that you don't become a dwarf or eight feet tall. HGH benefits don't stop when you're young, though, because you also need plenty of this hormone to keep your muscles full and strong, regulate metabolic functions, have a healthy immune system and repair your skin.

Unfortunately, our body's HGH peaks when we're adolescents and begins to decline from here. This is especially the case when we reach our 30's, as HGH levels begin dropping much faster at this point. Over time this leads to some unsightly byproducts of aging, like more body fat, less muscle, decreased bone density, worse skin appearance, fatigue and decreased brain function.

HGH Results and Benefits

Given all the bad things that happen when our bodies produce less HGH, one huge benefit of this drug is that it can reverse or at least improve aging. Now, this isn't to say that you're going to live to 120 just because you take HGH injections, but you should start to look and feel more youthful by using this drug.

HGH can also help build lean mass. Notice I said "lean" (fat-free) mass because studies have shown that HGH may have little to no impact on muscle growth (1) (2). Even research performed on athletes in training have yielded no proven muscle-building results (3). However, this isn't to say that HGH has absolutely no place in the bodybuilding community because, as I'll later discuss, you can combine it with anabolic-androgenic steroids (AAS) for really powerful results.

This may be especially true in the fat-loss department, where one study revealed that HGH is better than testosterone for melting body fat. The research showed that older men who received HGH injections lost 13% body fat, as compared to the 5.8% fat reduction in the testosterone group (4). Perhaps even more interesting is that those using testosterone and HGH together lost 21% of their body fat.

Another bonus to Human Growth Hormone is that it helps you recover from both workouts and heal from injuries faster. The latter is great for anybody who's dealt with nagging injuries for years that they want to heal finally. As for the faster workout recovery time, well, any athlete can appreciate being able to train harder and more frequently. Imagine how much more muscle you could gain if you worked each muscle group twice every 10 days, rather than the standard of once per week.

HGH Side Effects

As if I haven't already discussed enough great things about HGH, yet another is that you shouldn't experience any side effects with it. Contrast this to AAS, which can have severe side effects depending upon the dosage.

Water retention and joint pain are probably the worst side effects of HGH that you'll experience. Luckily, the joint pain shouldn't be unbearable in most cases, and the water retention will subside when your HGH cycle is over. Some minor problems that you could experience include cold-like symptoms, fatigue, and headaches when using this drug.

One serious issue that you should consider is if your family has a history of cancer. If so, you should definitely visit a doctor and get checked out for cancer because, while GH isn't proven to cause tumors, it can accelerate the growth rate of existing tumors.

Another serious issue is acromegaly, or the thickening of your jaw, fingers, and toes. Acromegaly can lead to the lengthening of your fingers and toes, and cause you to develop the dreaded "square jaw" appearance that many HGH users have - making you look like a hairless Neanderthal However, it should be mentioned that this is normally only a problem in those who abuse high dosages of GH for long periods of time. By keeping dosages reasonable, you should keep your normal human appearance too.

HGH has somewhat of a mixed effect on your cholesterol levels. A study performed on older men and women showed that their LDL (bad) cholesterol levels decreased; however, their triglyceride levels increased (5). One more concern worth mentioning is that those using this drug are also at more risk of developing carpal tunnel syndrome (6).

Is HGH Legal?

HGH is illegal in most countries concerning recreational or performance-enhancing use. In the United States, for example, anybody who illegally sells or prescribes Human Growth Hormones faces up to 5 years in prison and a $250,000 fine. The only way to legally obtain this drug is by getting a prescription for either child growth deficiency or adult growth hormone deficiency. Despite how HGH is not legal in most countries, that doesn't stop many people from getting their hands on it.

Also, keep in mind that all major sports governing bodies have banned GH. Sure, this compound doesn't produce noticeable strength-boosting capabilities (7). But its ability to enhance fat loss, improve workout recovery time, and heal old injuries certainly has some use to athletes. For a while, HGH testing wasn't available to sports leagues because there was no reliable way to test it. However, that's changed quite a bit, and all major professional sports have HGH testing available now.

How to get HGH?

If you don't have a prescription to buy HGH, or a doctor willing to prescribe it to you, then the black market is your other option. There are some underground labs that offer HGH products to anybody through the internet. However, as the term "black market" suggests, you must always be careful when buying HGH online. After all, it could be underdosed, fake, or even an entirely different compound.

One more thing to consider when you buy HGH is that the real version only comes in lyophilized powder, and it must be administered through subcutaneous (into the fat just under the skin) injections. You'll often see some different products offered, ranging from HGH pills to HGH spray - these are complete garbage! Somatropin is a fragile molecule that's really unstable and doesn't stay composed very long at room temperature. If you shake HGH too hard, this can also reshape it and form something entirely different from Human Growth Hormones. Long story short, don't buy HGH pills, patches or sprays.

HGH vs. Steroids

Because Human Growth Hormone and anabolic steroids can both help you build muscle and strength, they are commonly lumped together. However, this is a mistake because they are very different from each other.

First off, HGH is a protein-based hormone produced in the pituitary gland (base of brain). It's made of 191 amino acid chains and controls a number of functions like cell reproduction and repair, and growth of tissue and bones. HGH side effects are typically mild and less threatening than steroids, with the most common problems being high blood pressure, headaches, joint pain, and water retention.

Testosterone, on the other hand, is a sex hormone that's made in the testes. Forming the foundation of all anabolic steroids, testosterone plays a big role in protein synthesis, boosts strength and improves muscular endurance. Anabolic steroid side effects are pretty serious, with users potentially experiencing gynecomastia (man boobs), high blood pressure, high cholesterol, liver toxicity, low sex drive, low natural testosterone and/or water retention.

As you can see, HGH and AAS are quite different from each other in many respects. However, they do share some similarities, namely that they're synthesized naturally in the body, and they're both necessary parts of human development.

HGH for Bodybuilding

Because HGH was and is widely used by bodybuilders and athletes over the years, it's assumed that it has incredible muscle-building and strength-boosting benefits. However, as discussed before, research has yet to conclude that you'll gain any significant muscle mass through HGH (8). But then again, bodybuilders don't take HGH because they've been fooled by public opinion.

This drug has some good effects on fat loss and workout recovery - two huge qualities that bodybuilders benefit from HGH. And these effects are only enhanced when you include GH in an anabolic steroid cycle. Think of AAS as regular-grade gasoline, adding HGH would turn them into higher, premium-grade fuel. You can get better results from anabolic steroids, and use less of them just by incorporating HGH.

So how does HGH work? As mentioned before, GH is secreted by the pituitary gland, usually when you're sleeping or during high-intensity workouts. Once secreted, the activity of HGH normally only lasts for around 10-20 minutes. During this short duration, it binds to fat cells, causing them to break down into triglycerides and preventing these fat cells from uptaking lipids. HGH also binds to muscle cells, leading to the release of growth factors and multiplication of the cells.

Another bodybuilding benefit of HGH is that it travels to the liver and induces the secretion of Insulin-like Growth Factor One (IGF-1). When IGF-1 is released, it stimulates protein synthesis in muscles and encourages amino acid uptake. Research suggests that these actions help to create a moderate anabolic effect that GH lacks on its own (9). IGF-1 also acts very much like insulin and can increase the metabolism of carbohydrates. Higher IGF-1 levels lead to carbs being converted to glucose and used as energy, rather than being stored as fat.

From an overall standpoint, HGH isn't magic for bodybuilders that will help them build pounds of muscle and rapidly drop their body fat into the single digits. However, GH does provide some quality benefits in the way of protein synthesis, nutrient shuttling, and fat loss - all helping you attain a better physique, especially when combined with anabolic steroids.

HGH for Women

Given that most anabolic steroids cause virilization (development of male sexual characteristics) in women, there's a common stereotype that ladies shouldn't use Human Growth Hormone either. But did you know that women actually produce more HGH in their bodies than men?

HGH is safe for women at lower dosages, and they can see some nice results concerning increased energy levels, fat loss, healthier skin, and wrinkle reduction. As indicated in this EliteFitness Forum thread, a good HGH dosage for women without major side effects ranges from 0.5 - 1.5 IU's per day.

HGH Price

Aside from its illegal status, another big roadblock that keeps people from using GH is the high price. It's a great compound to mix with an anabolic steroid cycle...if you can afford it. But for many bodybuilders, it's a little pricey to add just for fat-loss and recovery purposes.

The cost varies based on the brand you're ordering, but it's common to pay anywhere from $3 to $4 per IU of high-quality somatropin. So if you were to buy a supply of 500 IU's, you'd end up paying between $1,500 and $2,000 on average. As I'll discuss below, a typical HGH dosage for bodybuilding is 5 UI's per day, which works out to about $15-$20 for daily use. Maybe you don't have to be a millionaire to afford this, but it's certainly not cheap for a non-muscle building compound.

One more thing to be aware of here: if the price is unbelievable, then don't believe it. Quality HGH - that with 191 amino acid chains - is fairly expensive to produce, so underground labs aren't going to sell it for the same price as Dianabol. If you do find really cheap HGH ($1 or less per IU), it's probably the weak, 192-amino-acid-chain product known as somatrem.

How to use HGH

Okay, so now that we've discussed all the highs and lows of HGH, it should be reiterated that this is an effective drug for certain bodybuilding purposes. This is especially the case when you combine HGH with testosterone, which gives you a great synergistic effect for fat loss and workout recovery. Plus, if you're middle-aged, and beyond, you can't overlook the anti-aging effects of this drug either. That said, let's go over what you'll need to know to run a good HGH cycle by answering some common questions.

What HGH Dosage should I take?

There's no one-size-fits-all formula for how much HGH you should use, and a lot of this has to do with the quality of the product. However, there are some rough guidelines that you can follow until finding out what works for you.

With quality Serostim, you can see pretty good bodybuilding results with just 3-4 UI's a day. With "blue tops" (generic) HGH, you'll probably need 5-6 UI's before you start seeing decent results. If it's really low-quality product, you might even need 7-8 IU's to get the same effect as 3-4 UI's of Serostim.

Assuming you're just using HGH for anti-aging and general health benefits, you can get solid results with only 2-3 UI's per day.

How should I cycle HGH?

As I discussed before, HGH makes for a good drug to stack with AAS. Plus, because this compound doesn't shut down your natural testosterone production like anabolic steroids, you can run it far longer. It's recommended that you use HGH for a minimum of 20 weeks to get solid bodybuilding results.

Again, the quality will greatly determine how much you should use every day. The guy discussed in the thread gets blue tops HGH. Blue tops HGH is a generic made product from China; so I'm betting he's going to need around 5 IU's to get the same results as 3 IU's of a pharma-grade product. As an experienced steroid user, he also stacks HGH with testosterone enanthate, Equipoise, and Dianabol in one cycle, and then testosterone e., Deca Durabolin and Turinabol in another AAS cycle. In all, he runs HGH for 47 straight weeks before stopping use.

When should I take HGH?

When you take HGH, injections will largely depend on your age. Men aged 20 to 50 should release a fair amount of GH at night while they're sleeping; so taking this drug before bed will only suppress your natural output and result in wasted product. That said, most younger and middle-aged men should use HGH in the morning so that you essentially have two HGH spikes - one while you're sleeping and one in the early morning.

For those older than 50, or with a condition that affects a normal release of HGH, you should take it right before bed. This allows your body to mimic the normal pattern of GH release that you'd have with a properly functioning pituitary gland.

How often should I take HGH?

Some people take HGH 7 days a week, which provides good results; however, I don’t think this is necessary. When you get the biggest surge of natural GH in your life, it is during puberty, and it's often in irregular spurts, not a steady source.

A 5 day on / 2 day off pattern is the best route, but most people fall into the (bad) habit of doing it Mon-Fri and then Sat and Sun off - this isn't very good.

This spreads the doses out, but never so you go longer than one day without a dose. I have done it both ways - this schedule and the every day (7 days per week) schedule - and there is really no difference at all with the results...except the above schedule makes your GH supply last longer. Overall, though, the results and benefits are exactly the same. Also, when taking more than 4 IU's of HGH per day, try dividing it into two doses; one in the AM upon rising and the other half at 4 p.m. in the evening.

More than 10 IU's of HGH daily, then divide into four doses: AM, noon, 3 p.m., 6 p.m.

Higher than 10 IU's of HGH daily is not encouraged for the average trainee, and even for the elite trainee until much research has been done. After all, going this high requires T4 supplementation and very often incorporating insulin since the only reason to go higher than 10 UI's of HGH is for forced bulking.

How is HGH Measured?

IU (international units) is a standard measurement concerning amount/quantity, not strength. 10 UI's from a 4mg compound will be weaker than 10 UI's from a 6mg product.

Now consider that when HGH is constituted, we normally use 1ml of bacstat water, which is 100 UI's. So a generic HGH vial that is claimed to be 10 UI's is now effectively 100 UI's due to the water measurement in it. Kind of confusing for sure, which is where I suspect a lot of the complaints about a certain brand of HGH being underdosed originate from. Simply because they do not tell you what strength the product is; instead they hide behind the "IU" claim of so many IU's per vial.

How do I mix HGH?

First of all, you need the following supplies:

One Insulin syringe

One bottle of Bacteriostatic water

One Injection Syringe

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cnrothtrek · 5 years

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A quick and dirty guide to mental health professionals, for fanfic writers

Note: Specific qualification requirements might vary from state to state and country to country

There’s more to professional counseling than just being empathetic and giving good advice. It is a complex discipline that requires a lot of education, training, and practice. Beyond that, not all mental health practitioners are therapists. Here is a quick and dirty guide to mental health practitioners so that you can better represent this under-appreciated (and often mis-represented) professional field.

Important terms to know:

In this article, I use the terms “psychotherapy” and “mental health counseling” interchangeably. Basically, they both refer to a specific type of counseling that is used to treat mental disorders and other mental health concerns. I use these more specific terms to distinguish this type of counseling from other types of counseling that are not meant to treat mental disorders (such as pastoral or academic counseling).

“Supervised clinical experience” basically means practicing psychotherapy under the supervision of someone who is qualified to train specific mental health professionals. This is integral to learning how to practice psychotherapy, because counseling is a skill that must be honed through practice. It can’t be taught in school, magically absorbed into the brain with a spell, or programmed into an artificial intelligence. Only hard-won experience can really teach someone how to counsel.

Ethics/Licensing Boards: These are the people mental health professionals must answer to. Each profession has a different certifying entity with different rules and codes of ethics that professionals are required to follow, but in general they have the power to grant, suspend, or revoke licenses.

Treatment Team: This term refers to a group of qualified professionals from multiple different disciplines who work collaboratively to treat patients/clients. The composition of treatment teams can vary, but it often includes such professionals as a medical doctor/psychiatrist, nurse or nurse practitioner, nurse assistant, psychologist, mental health counselor, and social worker.

Types of professionals:

Psychiatrist: A medical doctor who has a doctoral degree (4+ years in graduate medical school) plus clinical training in medical and psychiatric practice (4+ years in residency). They must also pass a licensure exam, complete a set number of continuing education hours, and renew their license every 3 years. Many psychiatrists don’t perform psychotherapy, choosing to focus primarily on assessment and medical treatment of mental disorders, and/or on research. Some, however, do choose to have an integrated medical/psychotherapeutic practice.

Psychiatric Nurse: A Registered Nurse or Nurse Practitioner who has, in the past three years, clocked at least 2,000 hours of clinical experience in psychiatric mental health care, completed a set number of continuing education hours, and passed a board certification exam. They must renew their nursing license every 2 years and their certification every 5 years. Psychiatric nurses do not perform psychotherapy, but may use basic counseling skills to help patients in other ways.

NOTE: ONLY QUALIFIED MEDICAL PROFESSIONALS CAN PRESCRIBE, ADMINISTER, OR RECOMMEND SPECIFIC MEDICATIONS. If your character is a “counselor” or “therapist” who also does any of these things, they are probably a psychiatrist. Other mental health professionals may suggest medication (in general, not specific drugs) to a client as an option for treatment, but will refer the client to a qualified medical professional if the client is interested in learning more. It is unethical for a mental health professional without a medical degree to make specific medical recommendations or to administer medication.

Psychologist: A person with a doctoral degree (4+ years in graduate school) in psychology. Psychologists can be psychotherapists, but not all of them are; some focus only on research, while others work for companies and corporations. If they do practice psychotherapy, they must have clocked 3,000 hours (or about 2 years) of supervised clinical experience and pass a licensure exam. License will need to be renewed every 2 years and requires a set number of continuing education hours.

Mental Health Counselor: These are professionals who have a master’s degree (2+ years in grad school), have clocked 3,000 hours (or about 2 years) of supervised clinical experience, and have passed a licensure exam. Licensure must be renewed every 2 years and requires a set number of continuing education hours. Note that this is an umbrella term, under which I am including

Licensed Professional Counselors (LPC)

Licensed Mental Health Counselors (LMHC)

Licensed Marriage and Family Therapists (LMFT)

Licensed Clinical Social Workers (LCSW)

Social Work: Social workers are difficult to summarize as they do a lot of different things and can work pretty much anywhere there are people, so here is a very abridged version of professionals in this field.

A caseworker or case manager is someone who manages individual clients in various settings, helps them access services, provides them with information, and advocates for their needs. They are required to have an associate’s or bachelor’s degree in a field related to health and human services (e.g. social work, psychology, nursing, etc). Their employers might encourage or require them to pass a case manager certification exam.

A Licensed Master of Social Work is required to have a master’s degree (2+ years) and pass a licensure exam. LMSW’s often rely on basic counseling skills, but do not perform psychotherapy. They might, however, lead various kinds of groups. They can also be caseworkers, provide psychoeducation, or do a variety of other tasks for their clients and/or communities.

Licensed Clinical Social Workers can do any of the above tasks, but they are also qualified to perform psychotherapy. They are required to clock 3,000 hours (or about 2 years) of supervised clinical experience and pass a licensure exam.

This is by no means an exhaustive list. There are other ways to be a mental health professional. One can be a Licensed Chemical Dependency Counselor, for instance, and help individuals who struggle with substance use disorders.

Professionals who provide other types of counseling include lawyers, pastors, life coaches, caseworkers, school/academic counselors, chemical dependency counselors. I’m sure I’m missing a few, but you get the point. Not all counselors can do psychotherapy.

Most of this won’t be stuff you include in your fics. I write fiction, as well, and I know that this sort of information is rarely, if ever, necessary for the plot. It is, however, important for writers to keep in mind if they are writing characters who might use the services of these professionals (or who might be these professionals).

Representation matters, and it’s so important that mental health professionals are portrayed in ways that do not undercut their skills, training, or value to society and to the people they help. Sometimes, proper representation is hard and the terminology is confusing, but that doesn’t mean you should settle for poor representation. Mental disabilities are highly stigmatized, and people who have them are socially oppressed in many ways. But content creators can be on the frontlines of pushing for positive change by way of equal, accurate, and compassionate representation in media. That takes some extra work, but it is well worth the effort. It could literally save lives.

The take-homes here are these:

Mental health practitioners have to do a LOT of training to become qualified practitioners.

Not all counselors are psychotherapists.

Not all mental health professionals are psychotherapists.

It takes a LOT of work and skill to become a psychotherapist, much of which is based in hard-earned experience that cannot be simply learned from a textbook or database.

Please reblog to spread awareness. This isn’t something many people outside of the field know, but it’s so important. And please keep this in mind when you write about counseling and/or mental health treatment in your fics.

Also, if there’s anything you think should be added to this post, let me know in the comments and reblogs.

Thank you.

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic #star trek fanfiction #mental health #mental health in media #mental illness #mental health care

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goodguidanceptc · 6 years

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Ironman New Zealand Race Report March 2, 2019

Welcome masochists and insomniacs. When people ask me about my races, I usually try to deliver a balance of facts (split times, data, total race time) and feelings (mind & body perceptions, key moments) in an entertaining yet succinct report. As usual, that often means STRONG LANGUAGE. Here goes:

Prologue:

A few weeks prior to the trip, I learned that I’d been selected for the “Ironman New Zealand Experience,” an online contest, administered with typical Kiwi approach by the local council. Read: relaxed, with ZERO Ironman lawyers involved. Six men and six women were selected--based on online posts--to learn a haka, perform at the athlete dinner and attend an after-race luncheon that included a presentation and performance of Maori history and traditions.

I suspect my "pick me! pick me!” post got me plucked from a small applicant pool. Supporting evidence: of the twelve selected, two others were my training buddies from Chicago, Christine B. and Bernie Mc. SIDE NOTE: Each winner was allowed one additional guest at the luncheon--so a very special thanks to Christine for graciously counting my wife as her guest which meant I had both my wife and son at the luncheon.

Haka is Maori for “breathe fire.” Historically, hakas were performed by Maori warriors prior to battle. These days they are performed ceremonially to celebrate major milestones (marriage, retirement), honor important guests or--perhaps most notably--to intimidate opponents at athletic events (here’s a link). Outside of New Zealand, the most famous and awe-inspiring hakas are performed my the Maori All-Blacks National Rugby team prior to each match.

I learned that there are hundreds of haka versions, each with its own inherent weight baked into the story it’s presenting. Although it was very different than the aggressive, male-only, pre-battle version the All-Blacks perform, I personally felt a tremendous honor and reverence for the one we learned.

The haka preserves indigenous culture, energetically injects traditional language into a modern forum, gathers and channels group energy by seamlessly melding ritual gesture and movement with raw emotion. It all adds up to a sum greater than it’s parts that’s simultaneously respectful and rebellious. Taken as a whole, the haka is something like how the Incredible Hulk would dance if the Incredible Hulk danced.

All of which is just to say that before I even started the race, I’d already experienced that tremendous joy that comes with receiving an unexpectedly perfect gift. IMNZ was already a success before the race even started. Now, let’s get back to facts...

Total race time = 11:33

Not a PR, but a mature result. “Mature?” you may be wondering, “Really?” Granted, few people would describe anything I do as mature, so perhaps a better word is un-deluded. Why? Because plantar fasciitis made for a “No-Run November” (all long runs performed in a pool), I hadn’t done enough resistance training, and winter holidays not only make it impossible to train, they make it nearly impossible to fuel properly.

In his book, Elite Minds, Dr. Stanley Beecham suggests giving yourself a W when you trained your best and an L if you didn’t. My record for this training sequence (Nov-Feb) was 89-20-11. ( I gave myself T for Ties on days when training went right but something else went bad...usually diet.) In other words, a respectable-but-not-stellar W average (.741) earned a respectable-but-not-stellar result.

But still, the haka was awesome.

Pre-Race

Slept well. Ate well. No mechanical issues. Huddled briefly with most of the training buddies and Iron sherpas prior to warming up properly in the water.

Swim (1:06 total swim time)

Clear sighting, aggressive line, good tactics (drafted when possible), and even got some help from the current towards the end. That said, the two turn buoys at the far end were both a raucous scrum. First time I ever took a hard shot to the lip. My best swim ever.

T1 (7:49)

"T1 is a 400 meter run from the swim out...” My ass. If that’s 400 meters, I’m Leslie Jones from SNL. Plus, AFTER the “400 meters,” a winding grass staircase comparable to any third-floor-walk-up or Wisconsin helix--easily another +50 meters at an +8% grade.

Once I did get up Mount Metric Bullshit, I moved right along. Sprayed on some sunscreen, stuffed a plastic bag under the regular bike jersey with some light gloves (in case it was nippy for the first hour), shoes on in the tent. Go.

Bike (5:38, technically a bike PR)

Two loops. Windy? A tad. The outbound tailwind was so strong, I struggled to maintain target watts. Get that? I didn’t have to pedal as hard as I’d trained to because I was easily traveling +20 mph on flat sections. Ditched the plastic bag and gloves at the first aid station because it was sunny and mild and I was feeling really great. Of course, logic dictates that inbound would be a shitstorm. Which it was. Oy. Mixed with some crosswinds too just in case you, oh I dunno...tried to pee on the bike and took too long...or wanted to take in some nutrition. Nasty. I caught myself using a bastardized mantra from IMAZ, “Frontside fast side, backside strong side” which morphed into “Out bound, throw down; In bound, get down.” whenever I was tempted to chase or draft.

A word on drafting: it’s illegal in Ironman races. BUT! By slipping into the draft zone of somebody passing faster than you are passing then letting them go, you can save energy and still stay within the letter and spirit of the rule. That said, 12 meters = 6ish bike lengths so don’t be the fucko that lingers.

Repeated that song and dance inbound on both loops. It’s a terrible thing when you can’t stay in aero-position because you gotta pee but can’t pee because the wind stuffs any momentum you need to keep your leg straight long enough to break the seal. But it WILL keep you legal.

For you data geeks: Normalized Power was 197 but I AVERAGED 20 m.p.h.

Another notable: the bone-shaking chip-seal they use to pave most New Zealand roads. It just rattled my whole rig from pedals to fingertips to helmet. That shit literally rattled my Torpedo bottle right out from between my aero-bars about halfway through. I’d already taken in the nutrition so I left it (apologies to all the Tidy Kiwis and the whole leave-it-like-you-found-it philosophy) and just held fresh bottles in with my thumbs as needed.

T2 (4:13)

Efficient but could have been a tad quicker. At this point in the race, I was on plan, feeling good and ready to attack the run. Nutrition was on point. Legs were solid, stomach was a non-issue and weather conditions were near ideal. Sunny and delightful low 70s. I was actually looking forward to Run Special Needs where I’d planted a fresh shirt and an extra bottle of nutrition.

Run (4:36 aka: avg 10:39/mi)

I went sub-4 hours in Louisville under raining mid-40 degree conditions. If I could have just matched that, I’d have delivered a juicy PR of under 11 hours.

It seemed reasonable that flat IM-LOU shitstorm would vaguely equate to hilly IM-NZ sunny delight, yes?

No.

That three loop run over what my training bro Andrew T. would call offensive hills was having none of that nonsense. Turns out, I was woefully undertrained. My legs were just not up to the second and third loop of hills, despite biking to plan, executing nutrition properly, and taking the first loop at a very easy RPE.

In past reports I’ve shared some of the actual mental chatter that runs through my head but in this case none of my mantras were very interesting or helpful. What I have learned to do when I’m truly falling apart is to reinvest in technique. Focus on the extremely immediate present, which I used to counter punch one particularly angry and persistent neg that I just couldn’t shake. See if you can pick it out of the following scientifically gathered brainwave transcription:

...chatter-chatter-chatter...BREATHE...left-right-left-right-Toe-off-knees-up-hands-up-lean-easy-at-the-ankles-glutes-tucked-somebody-fucking-LIED-to-me-goddamBREATHE!-Toe-off-knees-up-hands-up-lean-easy-at-the-ankles-glutes-tucked-somebody-fucking-LIED-to-me-goddamnit-Toe-off-left-right-left...chatter-chatter-chatter...BREATHE

On a slightly more-vulnerable note, I will share this: typically, a few tears leak out at special needs. Hormones? Pain? Mental breakdown/relief that the marathon is half over? All of the above, probably. Just a few moments of a grown man losing it. (Do NOT watch Ricky Gervais’ After Life while jet lagged. But DO watch it. Amazing. Shut up. Don’t judge my process.)

Anyway, I was all business during the Special Needs of this run but lost it right after a particularly steep descend where some guardian bros had set up an “unofficial aid station” consisting of Red Bull, handles of vodka, and liters of Jaegermeister. A runner just ahead of me had grabbed something off their card table and their robust cheering were suddenly horrific screams warning him off of chugging it. I was just tickled and toasted at the same time and it all came gushing out. Just all kinds of quads burning gasping ugly face craughing (learned that word from a tweet praising After Life, btw). Of course my male ego would NEVER allow me to overly express vulnerability in front of the drunken bros, thoughtful though they were. So I kept running. A woman running along side me kindly asked if I was okay, I said, “Oh...yeah...this...just happens,” between gulping breaths, “The good...news...is...it’s much...later...than usual.” Which cracked her up, so... y’know, pay it forward.

After slogging my way through the third loop, and making my way through the finishing chute, where the normally incomparable Mike Reilly butchered my last name, I was told that I’d been on the leaderboard during the bike and immediately fell off during the run.

So even though I did not over-bike, I did under-train. Plus, I did not need to go directly to Medical in shock, which suggests that my race plan, nutrition strategy and execution was pretty spot on. IMAZ was a PR of 11:19 and IMNZ was 11:33.

OVERALL RACE GRADE: C. Just a C.

OVERALL EXPERIENCE GRADE: A+

As with prior races, IMNZ yielded some incremental improvements. As I said at the top, this was a mature result, with which I am unsatisfied. I haven't yet done my best race. I haven’t yet DONE MY BEST. There is clearly opportunity for improvements to all five aspects of my racing:

Swim was well executed. Still room for growth.

Bike was properly executed. Adequate. If anything, I could have pushed more.

Run. Ugh. Time to throw myself into Runner’s World and CARA and make like Forrest Gump and Prefontaine and Mo. Also, back to Hokas. Or maybe Altras. The Brooks I ran in were farts. The blisters on my toes had blisters. Not kidding.

Fuel strategy and execution was on point, although I was a few kilos heavier than previous races. Holidays and too few resistance training sessions.

Transitions were adequate.

Am I one of the guys at the pointy end of the bell curve? Clearly still yes. Maybe I’ve just evolved beyond a standard group training plan. Self-Coach? I’ve got the credentials and experience. Back to a previous coach? Maybe a new coach? I’d take some applications. Yes.

In the meantime, I’ll see you in Chattanooga for some 70.3 action in May, 2019. That’s only two build cycles. Ima go noodle around in TrainingPeaks.

WAIT. HERE’S THE BERNIE STORY...

Bernie McNally is one of those people I am just glad to have in my life. This race report would be wholly inadequate if I didn't share how this amazing woman is absolutely unstoppable.

First, she got everybody who trained for New Zealand (at Well-Fit) a fleece.

I forgot to mention she broke her ribs in a bike accident a few months ago.

Then, in what can only be described as the luck of the Irish, she charmed her way into the “New Zealand Experience” haka class. Just showed up and got in. Turns out one of the women selected didn’t show up. Classic.

Here’s the unstoppable part: at around Mile 110 of the New Zealand Full fucking Ironman race, she hit a cone and went over her bike handle bars. Road rash up her arm, split her knee open and cracked her head/helmet on a curb. A bystander said, “Do you need some help? I’m calling an ambulance.”

Her reply?

“Just help me get my chain back on.”

So he did. And she finished the bike. The medics in T2 told her she needed stitches. She said she didn’t have time, to just patch her up so she could get on with it. She finished the race with half an hour to spare. Words fail.

All I know is this: whenever I’m feeling like I can’t get it done--and it can be anything from driving in traffic to folding laundry to a holding pace on a long run--I know exactly what I’ll hear.

A thick, sassy, Irish brogue doing the haka.

WITH GRATITUDE FOR…

I’m very grateful to my lovely wife Susan and my wonderful kids, Peter and Veronica for their support. Susan, you are my salvation.

I’m grateful to have the expert professionals Coach Russ and Coach Sharone and the entire Well-Fit staff and athletes who generously share their wisdom.

I’m grateful to my inspiring and impressive training partners. Especially the seven hardcore savages that got it done in New Zealand--Adam, Christine, Dan, Kelly, Megan, Mike, Will and Bernie.

I’m very grateful to anybody willing to excuse my terrible smell, deplorable language and barbaric sounds during training.

Maximum gratitude to Well-Fit, Get-A-Grip, Fleet Feet and all the pools I use.

I’m grateful for Crushing Iron (C26), Matt Fitzgerald, Joe Friel, Training Peaks, Scott brand bikes, Apple, Ironman.

Thank you to all the on-course maniacs cheering and making signs and wearing all sorts of crazy outfits to show love and support. For strangers exercising.

I’m grateful that I’m able to race triathlons. I’m grateful to you for reading.

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ezatluba · 3 years

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How a Zoo Decides Which “High-Risk” Animals Should Get a COVID VaccineBY

MOLLY OLMSTEAD

JULY 28, 2021

Earlier this month, the Philadelphia Zoo announced that some of its animals would soon receive an experimental COVID-19 vaccine for some of its “high-risk” animals. Several other zoos have already begun to vaccinate their animals, with no sign of any major issues. To understand how a zoo comes to decide which animals are high-risk and how to balance the concerns about a new vaccine with the risk of COVID, Slate spoke with Dr. Keith Hinshaw, the director of animal health at the Philadelphia Zoo. This interview has been condensed and edited for clarity.

Slate: Can you explain how this came about?

Keith Hinshaw: We have lots of very endangered primates here at the zoo that are closely related physiologically to human beings and so are susceptible to many of the same viruses and bacteria and parasites. In January of 2021, there was an outbreak of COVID-19 in the gorilla troop at the San Diego Wild Animal Park. To protect the other troop of gorillas that live at the actual San Diego Zoo, they had obtained a small amount of an experimental vaccine from the Zoetis Farm Animal Health company. When we found out that information, we contacted Zoetis directly. Those discussions happened in February. After learning about their vaccine, we asked if we could be put on a list of zoos and other facilities that would be interested in using it on their animals. So we submitted a list to them of the animals that were highest up on our list of priorities.

Which animals did you decide were at risk?

All of our primates. We also submitted our carnivores, which in our case is bears, animals in the weasel families such as otters, animals in the canid families such as our maned wolf, and then a few other miscellaneous carnivores, such as the red pandas, the meerkats, and a thing called a fossa. We did not submit our list of bats because our bats are behind glass, so there’s not really any air exchange with guests. And we didn’t think that they would be as susceptible to actual illness. So 81 primates and 37 carnivores. In their press release, Zoetis said they’re donating 11,000 doses to zoos and sanctuaries and other institutions, so two doses for each of the animals that I mentioned is 236 doses.

How did you determine what the at-risk animals were?

There are actual studies where they would see if they could demonstrate that an animal could get infected with the COVID virus. And then there was also a paper published where they did computer modeling to see if the actual shape of the receptor on the lung cells of different species of animals would match up with the shape of the spike protein on the SARS CoV2 virus. It is very theoretical, but it did predict, as you might expect, primates would be susceptible, and cats were up there.

So you presented all of these animals as equally at risk, as equal priorities?

For our request to obtain the vaccine, we simply submitted the list, not in any particular order. In reality, once we obtain the vaccine, there is probably a logical order: the great apes—gorillas and orangutans—and then the big cats—lions, tigers, leopards, jaguar—because those are the animals that we know have already been infected at other zoos.

We’re constantly monitoring both the lay and the scientific press for stories about animals that could potentially be susceptible. And every zoo has to make their own decisions. Some zoos may not use it at all. And some have decided to use it in an even wider-ranging group of animals. If evidence came up that other species appeared to be susceptible, we would certainly add them to that list.

Is this vaccine different from human COVID vaccines?

Yes. This is what I would call a standard vaccine for animals. It does not contain a live virus in it. And it doesn’t contain mRNA. It just contains the antigen, which is a synthesized version of that spike protein from the SARS CoV2 virus, and then a chemical that’s added to make your body’s immune system pay more attention. There’s no virus in there or anything else that might cause any sort of illness. The Zoetis people are recommending two doses three weeks apart, which is pretty standard.

Would you administer different doses to, say, a gorilla and a lemur?

No, they get the same dose. For most vaccines we use in the zoo, it’s the same dose no matter what size the animal. There are some exceptions—the rabies vaccine, for example—but in general, it’s a set amount. You’re using the vaccine to get the attention of the immune system, and you don’t necessarily need to use a lot.

What have you heard from other zoos that have already begun vaccinating their animals?

I haven’t heard anything bad. I do know that they’ve done safety trials. And I know they did those trials with dogs and cats and demonstrated that you get an antibody response. The American Association of Zoo Veterinarians has a very active listserv, and there is a lot of interest from the veterinarians to know how things are going with zoos that are starting to implement this vaccine. And when I communicated with Zoetis last week about this, they had not received any reports from anyone of adverse reactions.

If there were adverse reactions, would you reassess?

Exactly. We will always be paying close attention to whether or not there’s any problems with this vaccine or any other medication in zoo animals. One of the things that makes veterinary medicine interesting is that other than maybe a few parrots—and we’re not totally clear on what is going on there—they can’t tell you what they’re feeling. But I will say that the animal keepers are very observant and will pay very close attention to their animal’s behavior. They’ll know what side of the mouth the animal chews food on, how fast they blink, how fast they stand up and lie down. And so if they see anything that seems different, they’ll give us a call.

What would it take for you to call off the vaccinations?

Say we gave an animal this vaccine, and for a day, it only ate half as much food as it normally would eat, and then from that point on, it was back to normal again—I would not consider that a serious side effect. If we gave the vaccine and the animal went off food completely and seemed like it was in a lot of discomfort, then we would think more carefully. Or say it developed an abscess at the vaccine site, like a severe kind of localized reaction. That would be a little bit concerning, and we would have to think carefully about using this vaccine in that species. But other zoos are implementing the vaccine and have not reported any severe side effects. So, so far, so good. And then the more tricky ones, I guess, would be longer term side effects; you might not know for a long time if there’s an issue. But given the technology of the vaccine, which is a fairly standard animal vaccine, I don’t anticipate that we will see those effects either.

Did you have to have a serious conversation about risk before you agreed to do this?

We did have the conversations. We have a weekly meeting with the zoo veterinarians, the nutritionists, the curators, the director of the zoo, our records people, and so on. We felt it was important to talk about it. Every zoo is going to have to make their own decision. Like if you’re in an area of the country that has low community transmission of COVID, and your keeper force is fully vaccinated, and if you’re in a climate where a lot of the animal housing and activities happen outdoors, you may not see that as necessary.

There was an outbreak of COVID-19 in a group of lions at a zoo in India in May with the delta variant. The outbreak that you heard about in the Bronx Zoo in April 2020 was with the original strain. Those cats went off feed for a little bit; there was some coughing and some nasal discharge, but they didn’t really require any intervention. These lions in India got really sick, and two of them died. So now if you’re a zoo veterinarian, and before you weren’t too worried about this, now maybe the delta variant is a little more of a potential hazard. That could sway your opinion.

Is your concern just about the animals getting sick?

There’s been little evidence that animals can transmit the virus back to people, at least from domestic dogs and cats and so on. The CDC says that pets are not really considered as a major source of the virus. But there were some issues when this virus got into mink farms in Europe, and they detected the virus was going back into the workers at those farms. We don’t have mink here, and we’re not ever planning on having them, but we do have otters and they’re in the same family as mink. So one of my concerns is that if we did have an infection in our animals, does that put our keepers at any risk? So that would be a second reason. The third reason is that anytime that a virus infects a person or an animal, you can get more variants created, so we want to minimize that.

How hard will it be to actually administer the vaccines?

We do have a vaccination program already in place. At our zoo, a tiger for example would normally get three vaccines every year. Most of the cats and the great apes—the gorillas and orangutans—are trained for voluntary vaccination, so they will be easy to vaccinate. And then the smaller animals are trained to go into a little mesh box, so those will be fairly easy. The trickier ones are going to be some of the mid-sized primates that maybe aren’t so interested in voluntarily being injected and are also super smart. In our case—other zoos may have better behaved ones—our gibbons are ridiculously smart, and they have not responded as well to the operant conditioning for training voluntary injections. So if I would have to pick [the hardest] one, I would say the gibbons. For those animals, we would probably do the vaccine as part of a regular physical exam under anesthesia.

So where do things stand now for your plans?

We submitted our list of animals that we were interested in vaccinating in late February. Zoetis needs to get approval from each individual state Department of Agriculture. In our case, it’s the Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture, and there are some forms and paperwork that they need to complete. When I communicated with them a couple of weeks ago, I think they said they were working on 85 different approvals. We’re hoping to receive our first doses some time in the next month or so.

Is there anything else that you wanted people to know?

We would love it if more people would get vaccinated. The virus is actually on the upswing because of the delta variant, and so we’re a little concerned that we could still have our animals exposed one way or the other. So here’s one more person telling you that if you are eligible to get the vaccine, and you haven’t gotten it yet, please do so because it’s going to also protect our animals here at the zoo.

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drewsdailydose · 6 years

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10 Things I Love About Diabetes

When I was first diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes, I honestly hated everything about. I’m not going to pretend that I’ve never had a problem with it. But over time, it has taught me so many invaluable lessons and has helped me become the person I am today: a happy and healthy guy thriving with diabetes. I’ve not only accepted living with diabetes, but I’ve also learned to love it and manage it so that it doesn’t manage me. So, I decided to put together a list of all the things that diabetes has given me. Here it is...

1. Diabetes Taught Me How to Turn Adversity Into Opportunity 

Adversity is inevitable. We are all going to experience varying degrees of it throughout our lifetime. How you respond to adversity is ultimately what defines you. You can either let it destroy you or you can use it to fuel growth. Overcoming adversity is one of the greatest achievements in a person’s life. Adversity comes in all shapes and sizes: Disease, physical challenges, financial, relationships, etc. It doesn’t discriminate. Adversity is a powerful tool that should be embraced. Do not fear it. Respect it. Realise that it can take you to wonderful places once you conquer it. When obstacles become a part of the plan, you will always be able to thrive in the face of adversity. -  "A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor."

2. Diabetes Improved My Fitness

It’s no secret that a huge part of my diabetes management (and one of my five pillars) is exercise. I move my body in a different way every day as part of my management strategy. As a result of the sheer volume of training that I do, I’m in the best physical shape of my life. I’m the most athletic (and as a nice byproduct the most aesthetic) that I’ve ever been thanks to diabetes. 

3. Diabetes Strengthened My Mind 

To me, nothing is more impressive and attractive than mental fortitude. A strong mind, when accompanied by a strong body, is a lethal combination. Diabetes can give you both of those things if you let it. The mental strength required to not only deal with being diagnosed with diabetes but to manage, control and thrive with diabetes on a daily basis is something I am very proud of.

4. Diabetes Improved My Understanding of Nutrition

After being diagnosed with diabetes, I made it my responsibility to learn as much as I possibly could about nutrition. I bought a food scale, downloaded a food app, and started weighing all my food and storing it in my memory bank. Now, I can eye-off a meal and calculate the individual macronutrients (protein, carbs and fat) within seconds. My understanding of nutritional medicine has improved beyond belief. I know how certain foods affect my blood sugar levels just by looking at them. 

5. Diabetes Gave Me Passion, Purpose, and Direction

I can honestly say diabetes has given me more than it has taken from me. Without diabetes, I wouldn’t have founded Drew’s Daily Dose, a home that inspires people with and without diabetes to lead a happy and healthy life. I know exactly what I’m here for and what I want to achieve in my lifetime. I know it sounds weird, but I was lost before diabetes came along. Without diabetes, I have no idea what I would be doing with my career. I truly don’t.  

6. Diabetes Taught Me What it Really Means to be Healthy and Happy

I know it sounds crazy, but I can honestly say that I'm happier and healthier today with diabetes than I was before my diagnosis. Health is not merely the absence of disease. It has to be holistic. It’s about feeling good in your skin, having endless energy, being fit, having a healthy gut, sleeping well, being injury free and free from other physiological complications. I've learnt things about biochemistry that I would never have known otherwise. I’ve learnt how to build muscle and burn fat effectively. I've discovered which food groups affect my blood sugar levels. I’ve discovered ways to improve my insulin sensitivity and ultimately reduce my overall insulin requirements. The list goes on. Most importantly, I’m doing my best to prevent other diseases from manifesting down the track.   To be happy doesn’t mean to take the easy road, free from pain, struggle and difficulties. In fact, it’s quite the opposite. Happiness is a byproduct of conquering obstacles. When you're faced with something difficult and you conquer it, you come away with a sense of empowerment and fulfilment which can never be taken away from you. You'll be able to take that sense of accomplishment with you forever as another weapon to add to your arsenal which you can rely on when the time calls for it.

7. Diabetes Taught Me How to Accept Imperfections

I used to be obsessed with doing everything possible to be the healthiest version of myself. Well, I still am. But the difference is, I no longer beat myself up if I fall short. For example, some days my blood sugar levels are higher than desired but it doesn’t get me down anymore. I accept it and take responsibility for my next actions to ultimately solve the problem. If I miss a workout or eat something that I shouldn’t have, I bounce back without any guilt or self-hate. I’m ok with being imperfect.

 8. Diabetes Taught Me That Exercise Is Medicine

 On the day I was diagnosed with diabetes, I learnt the most valuable lesson that I will probably ever take away from this whole ordeal: Exercise. Is. Medicine. If you want to hear about my experience with exercise as a form of medicine that we can freely and happily administer to ourselves, read this post! It’s also the reason why I didn’t end up in hospital at diagnosis. It’s also the reason I was able to reduce my insulin requirements by nearly 70%. Exercise is the single most important tool and one that I use the most frequently to maintain such tight blood sugar control. Without it - I’d be lost.  

9. Diabetes Inspired Me to Write a Song 

Before I was diagnosed with diabetes I wanted to have a career as a singer-songwriter. Diabetes was certainly a setback that halted my dreams of becoming a performing artist, but later on, it turned out to be the thing that inspired me to write and record one of the best pieces of music I have ever produced. I put all of the emotions that I was feeling around the time of my diagnosis into song-form: sadness, grief, despair, heartbreak, strength, courage, and resilience all feature in the song’s mood. It has become the soundtrack of my life. If you want to hear it, follow my music page on Instagram to hear when it drops.

10. Diabetes Motivates Me to Make The Most Out of Every Moment

When your health gets taken away from you and it feels like your life is over, that's when you get a reality check about what really matters. Diabetes was certainly my wake-up call that life is more fragile than I thought and that I am far from invincible. It let me know very quickly that I need to take control and responsibility for my health going forward. It really put life into perspective. Nowadays, I take nothing for granted. Be it a morning swim, a meal, a coffee, or a workout -  l enjoy it with every fibre of my being.

On that note, I’ll leave you with one of my favourite quotes of all time and one that really resonates with me:

“Enjoy the little things in life because one day you’ll look back and realise they were the big things”

Thanks for reading. I truly hope this post can help you to become a happier and healthier version of yourself. Keep an eye out for my next post: 10 Things I Hate About Diabetes. If you haven’t already subscribed to my newsletter, sign up below to be the first to know when new articles go up.

Related articles: - Top 5 Diabetes Myths Debunked - How to Build a Healthy Relationship With Diabetes - A Letter To My Diabetes

#Mindfulness

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your-dietician · 3 years

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Mydecine to launch Phase 2A clinical trial on psilocybin assisted psychotherapy to treat PTSD in veterans

New Post has been published on https://depression-md.com/mydecine-to-launch-phase-2a-clinical-trial-on-psilocybin-assisted-psychotherapy-to-treat-ptsd-in-veterans/

Mydecine to launch Phase 2A clinical trial on psilocybin assisted psychotherapy to treat PTSD in veterans

CEO Joshua Bartch said the upcoming trial is aimed at achieving safer and more accurate psychedelic-led psychotherapy results in a supervised setting

Mydecine Innovations Group Inc () () () is the first company to treat post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) and smoking cessation with the natural form of psilocybin (MYCO – 001).

The Denver, Colorado-based biotech is gearing up to launch a Phase 2A clinical trial on psilocybin-assisted psychotherapy to treat PTSD in veterans. Mydecine hopes to achieve safer and more accurate psychedelic-led psychotherapy results in a supervised setting.

“We are waiting for final approval on our Investigational New Drug before launching our Phase 2A PTSD clinical study in the late third quarter, or early fourth quarter,” Mydecine co-founder and CEO Joshua Bartch told Proactive in an interview.

Psilocybin is a tryptamine that binds to serotonin receptor 5-HT2A in the brain. At certain doses, the psilocybin elicits profound changes in consciousness and has great potential in treating mental health disorders.

Mydecine is well-funded to grow its IP portfolio and carry out advanced clinical trials with its proprietary psychedelic molecule MYCO – 001.

Roth Capital recently initiated coverage on Mydecine with a ‘Buy’ rating and a C$3 price target, citing the “blockbuster potential” of MYCO – 001 for PTSD peaking at “$3 billion five years after introduction (2027).”

Mydecine has identified four patentable lead drug candidates which include MYCO – 001, a pure psilocybin from natural fungal sources; MYCO – 003, a psilocybin-based formula with reduced anxiety potential; and MYCO – 004, a patch delivered tryptamine compound.

A serial entrepreneur, Bartch co-founded the Cannabase.io cannabis wholesale platform which was acquired by Helix TCS.

Proactive sat down with CEO Bartch to learn about Mydecine’s clinical calendar and how it is leading the charge in psilocybin and psychedelic-assisted therapeutics.

Proactive: What is Mydecine’s value proposition and why should investors care?

Mydecine has a very unique approach — we are focused on first and second-generation therapeutics derived from psychedelic molecules. The reason why this is important is our paths to approval. We have both short and long-term goals on that path and obviously the infrastructure to support both initiatives.

In our first generation, we are already in a Phase 2A PTSD and a late-stage addiction study. There’s our MYCO–001, a pure psilocybin from natural fungal sources. For the first time, a company has been able to take a natural fungal source, extract the psilocybin and take it down to 99.9% purity so it is analogous to the synthetic versions of the COMP360 products that are out in the market in clinical studies. But remember we are pulling it from a natural source, so we have full freedom to operate without infringing on any patents.

We have novel approaches to our second generation of medicines. We address things like controllability, reducing the experience time down to a more controllable hour or two depending on the indications — safety rails and we look at things like shelf stability. Psilocybin has a single molecule — it is not oxygen stable. We’ve been able to address that problem. As a single molecule psilocybin is also not skin permeable, but we’ve tailored a molecule to permeate the skin through unique fast delivery mechanisms, while making the uptick time and controllability more accurate.

By acquiring NeuroPharm and Mindleap Health, Mydecine has increased its assets and diversified into telehealth. Will acquisitions be a part of your growth strategy?

There’s definitely going to be a number of M&A transactions and consolidations as the industry progresses. You have a company like Mydecine that is well along its journey to the NASDAQ. We’ve raised tens of millions of dollars and have very solid infrastructure globally with approved clinical sites. With our exclusive partnership with Applied Pharmaceutical Innovation and the University of Alberta, we can literally go from A-to-Z on drug development with full cGMP certified pharmaceutical manufacturing capabilities on-site and in-house as well. You are going to start to see this divide between new companies that have smaller balance sheets, but potentially good IP. And later stage companies like Mydecine that have larger balance sheets and are further along in their market journey who will be able to acquire a number of these companies.

What is the kind of work that is being done at the Mydecine Center of Mycology?

Our functional mushroom research happens in Denver, Colorado at our 7,500 square feet advanced mycology lab. This world-class lab is built around exploring medicinal mushrooms and the vast array of fungi medicinal compounds, which could potentially cure some of life’s biggest problems. We are looking at mushrooms like cordyceps, Lion’s Mane, reishi and others. We are breaking them down to the molecular level and developing unique IP around different genetics and compounds.

Our Chief Scientific Officer Robert Roscow is a well-known geneticist and worked at Canopy Growth and Ebbu where he ran their genetics division. He was the first to use CRISPR/Cas9 technology on the cannabis plant to isolate different character traits. We are doing the same thing with functional mushrooms and medicinal mushrooms, looking at what are the compounds of interest in these mushrooms.

You are evaluating PTSD, addiction, depression, anxiety, and other mental health conditions. Where are you with your clinical trials?

In regard to PTSD, we have multiple global test sites — three in the US, three in Canada, which are all very well-known and prolific, and then there are two in Europe. We are carrying out clinical trials in three continents for the Phase 2A study of psychedelic treatments for PTSD in veterans and EMS personnel to achieve safer and more accurate psychedelic-led psychotherapy results in a supervised setting. We are waiting for final approval on our Investigational New Drug enabling studies before launching our Phase II PTSD clinical study this year.

We are taking the value that is currently present in natural molecules, such as the psilocybin molecule in MYCO-001, and adding in patentable safety features. MYCO – 001 is likely to be used at mid to late-stage clinical trials. In addition, we have a later stage addiction study that we will be launching later this year, or early next year.

So, you have an advanced clinical program calendar?

That is definitely a yes!

Mindleap is the only digital health platform that combines traditional telehealth with psychedelic medicine and mood, emotion, behavior tracking and analytics. Tell us about Mindleap.

We have invested significant time, money, and resources in Mindleap. We appointed William Cook as the interim CEO. At , Cook designed the Patriot missile system software parameters for the US Army. He is a systems architect by profession and has a Master’s degree in marriage and family therapy. A West Point grad, Cook has been involved in massive builds and also has artificial intelligence expertise.

We have revamped Mindleap’s capabilities. At its core Mindleap was aimed at solving the issues that you have with psychedelic-assisted psychotherapy. You are looking at protocols that have tens of hours of psychotherapy associated with a single treatment. This is not accessible to everyday people as you have a limited number of locations/ketamine clinics where people can actually go and get treatments.

But when you look at the protocols, nine-tenths of the equation are therapy interactions between patient and therapist without any substance taken. These are interactions pre-and post-experience, and you have one or three possibly under the influence of a substance throughout the whole protocol. So, to be able to administer the treatments — seven, eight, or nine-tenths of the equation remotely — through a HIPAA-compliant telehealth app with trained professionals versed in the protocols is incredibly advantageous.

Mindleap 2.0 is set to launch in the coming weeks with more robustness to the platform. We have an educational platform that will share videos from top professionals, as well as audio clips with experts discussing what are psychedelics, how do they interact with our brains, what are the safety profiles of different substances, and what are the success rates? These are open questions and people don’t have easy access to professional advice.

Now you have this community-based app that individuals can go on for a low monthly subscription rate. They can not only access groups, and information, but find yoga, meditation, breathwork therapy classes, and ancillary services that promote overall mental health. We are incredibly excited about the overall product that we’ve been able to deliver.

Where do you see the psychedelic therapeutics industry five years from now, and what does this mean for your company?

You are going to see incredible advancement in the science behind these molecules and FDA approvals on a number of molecules for different indications — actually see real life treatments for individuals that have been suffering for ages with really no viable solution. We hope to be one of those making significant progress on clinical trials and the regulatory front.

Separately, one of the biggest hurdles to adoption is public acceptance of psilocybin and psychedelics. You’re looking at a substance that’s been taboo and is talked about as a party drug. However, when you look at the safety profiles of these substances, comparatively speaking to serotonin reuptake inhibitors (SSRI), a class of drugs that are typically used as antidepressants, they’re not even in the same ballpark in terms of their safety profile. Studies have shown that psilocybin and MDMA have no long-lasting effects.

Patients are also looking at one to three psychedelic-assisted therapy sessions to round out the whole protocol, compared to taking a pill every day of their lives. Most importantly, it is a curative solution, a very different proposition from popping a pill every day and feeling maybe better, maybe not! It’s a matter of time before the FDA grants approval for psychoactive compounds and psilocybin to be used therapeutically. Then you will see them enter the mainstream with profound implications for psychiatry and the treatment of mental disorders and addiction.

Contact the author Uttara Choudhury at [email protected]

Follow her on Twitter: @UttaraProactive

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The importance of ‘unlearning’ the past: Interview with Balkans expert Keith Brown

New Post has been published on http://khalilhumam.com/the-importance-of-unlearning-the-past-interview-with-balkans-expert-keith-brown/

The importance of ‘unlearning’ the past: Interview with Balkans expert Keith Brown

‘Critical thinking demands, as an early step, recognition of one’s own blinkers, prejudices and areas of ignorance’

Prof. Keith Brown, Arizona State University. Photo used with his permission.

This story was originally published by Meta.mk. An edited version is republished here via a content-sharing agreement between Global Voices and Metamorphosis Foundation. All links displayed in the interviewee's quotes were added by Meta.mk. Keith Brown is a professor at Arizona State University’s School of Politics and Global Studies. He is also director of The Melikian Center for Russian, Eurasian & Eastern European Studies. With a doctorate in anthropology from the University of Chicago, Brown works primarily in the domain of culture, politics, and identity, focused on the Balkans. Part of his extensive research on ethnonationalism and the role of national history in the region has been available to the public in North Macedonia via the translations of his books “The past in question: Modern Macedonia and the Uncertainties of Nation” (2003) and “Loyal unto Death, Trust and Terror in Revolutionary Macedonia” (2013). In an interview with portal CriThink.mk, Brown explains the importance of critical thinking when learning history. CriThink: How important is the application of critical thinking to history and anthropology?

Keith Brown (KB): Critical thinking is very important in both history and anthropology. Skeptics and naysayers sometimes dismiss our methods as “soft” or trot out tired clichés like “history is written by the winners.” But evaluating and comparing sources, and weighing how cultural and social factors impact individual decisions, are essential components of both disciplines. In addition, and perhaps most importantly, historians and anthropologists recognize that meanings and horizons shift over time and across space. This is especially important in the study of nationalism—a mode of political organization and identity formation that contributed to the break-up of multiconfessional empires in the 19th century, and which often seeks legitimacy by claiming ancient roots. What makes it more complicated is that most nation-states place a high premium on communicating to their citizens a strong sense of shared history that distinguishes them from others. Often, it is easier for people to see the inconsistencies and distortions in their neighbors’ versions of the past, than to question or closely scrutinize the history that they think holds their own society together. Critical thinking demands, as an early step, recognition of one’s own blinkers, prejudices and areas of ignorance. It also benefits from dialogue in which participants check their egos and agendas at the door, and measure success not by the points they score, but by the new ways of seeing they have helped generate for themselves or others.

CriThink: Political establishments in most Balkans states seem to insist on promoting the concept of “national history” based on selecting “positive,” and excluding “negative,” “facts” to create or maintain official narratives that are then used in public education textbooks. In the last 200 years, this dogmatic approach had often been used as justification for oppression towards “the others.” Is there another way to do history?

KB: History is an incredibly rich domain of study. In 2015, oral historian Svetlana Alexievich was awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature for her work chronicling citizens’ voices from the end of the Soviet Union. Organizations like EuroClio—to which many history teachers from the Balkans and Eastern Europe belong—promote the study of global history, and encourage members and students to explore social, cultural and economic history. Courageous and open-minded historians are often leading critics of the exceptionalism on which national history is founded—including in the United States, through efforts like the 1619 project. I think that these kind of approaches have enormous potential to transform people’s understandings of the past, and prompt reflection on how the present will look from the future. I am particularly excited by the promise of microhistory, as pioneered by Carlo Ginzburg, which draws out the broader human significance from the close study of an event or community.

English language editions of Keith Brown’s books “Loyal unto Death, Trust and Terror in Revolutionary Macedonia” (2013) and “The past in question: Modern Macedonia and the Uncertainties of Nation” (2003).

CriThink: In your book “Loyal Unto Death: Trust and Terror in Revolutionary Macedonia,” you note facing challenges of unreliability or bias in available historical sources, including the correspondence of British consuls preserved as microfilms by the Museum of Macedonian Struggle in Greece; or the applications for pensions submitted to the new Macedonian state by the elderly who survived revolutions between 1948 and 1956, preserved in the State Archive of North Macedonia. How did you deal with that challenge of extracting useful information from these records?

KB: I first read many of these sources while I was a graduate student in anthropology. Conscious that the Ilinden Uprising of 1903 had been interpreted differently by scholars for whom the correct context was Greek, Bulgarian, Serbian, Albanian, Yugoslav, Ottoman, Balkan or Macedonian history, I wanted to get as close to the period as I could, by engaging closely with sources that, in one way or another, stood outside these frames of reference. I was struck, for example, by the fact that according to the records of the National Archive in Skopje, only a handful of scholars had sought access to the Ilinden dossier of biographies. My understanding was that these sources were discounted because, self-evidently, they were self-interested. The British, French, German and American diplomatic and consular records from Ottoman Macedonia, by contrast, are often treated as wholly dispassionate, objective and clinical accounts, as if their authors were scientifically trained medical professionals, diagnosing the ills of an empire on its death-bed. In writing “Loyal Unto Death,” I took an alternative, subversive approach toward these two sets of sources. Whether or not individual pension-seekers amplified their own roles, or edited out those elements that might weaken their case for state recognition, their accounts drew from their own or their age-mates’ experiences and understandings. No-one lied about the organizational structure of the revolutionary organization, the methods of recruitment, or the logistics of acquiring weapons or distributing information and supplies: what would be the self-interest in doing so? Thus they provide us, individually but even more so in aggregate, with a sense of the shared day-to-day experience of participation in a resistance and rebellion. British consular accounts, often read as if magisterial, reflect their individual authors’ biographies, perspectives and access to sources: Alfred Biliotti was a naturalized British citizen born in Rhodes who had worked his way up from the position of dragoman and had close ties with Ottoman and Greek authorities, whereas James McGregor knew Bulgarian and expressed the view that the Organization commanded strong support. Their accounts diverge or clash. This is not to say that all sources or accounts are equally valid or suspect. It is rather to argue that we need to get past our own cultural preconceptions, whether they tell us “peasants lie” or “diplomats are cynical careerists,” and remain alert to the ways they can surprise us.

Macedonian language editions of Keith Brown’s books “The past in question: Modern Macedonia and the Uncertainties of Nation” (2010) and “Loyal unto Death, Trust and Terror in Revolutionary Macedonia” (2014).

CriThink: Lacking a viable time machine, it’s hard to precisely determine the “national consciousness” of historical figures, given the non-existing, censored, fabricated, or conflicting records, their interpretations, as well as changed meanings of some of the language used at the time. Which critical thinking skills need to be nurtured across the region to help resolve such issues?

KB: In “The Past in Question,” I chose to use the language of the British consular sources rather than update or modify it, and to try to translate sources in Greek and Bulgarian into the English of that time, rather than of the early 21st century. I thus used terms like “Bulgar,” “Arnaut,” “Mijak” and “Exarchist” seeking in this way to remind readers of the very different world of the late nineteenth century; when “Greece” referred to a territory roughly half the size of modern Greece; when only a small fraction of people who would call themselves “Bulgars” owed loyalty to the Ottoman-administered “Bulgaria” with its capital in Sofia; when the Sultan sought to restrict the use of the Albanian language, and the term “Macedonia;” and when the prospect of an alliance of convenience between the ambitious nation-states of Bulgaria, Serbia and Greece to carve up and nationalize Ottoman territory surely seemed absurd to most. For me, critical thinking demands, paradoxically, that we try to unlearn what actually happened since the period we are trying to understand; or at least, allow it to strike us as surprising or at least non-inevitable. This then concentrates our attention on the factors that drive outcomes. It also liberates us from the illusion that figures in the past—like Ilinden-era figures Goce Delchev, Nikola Karev, Damjan Gruev or Boris Sarafov—imagined their own identity in terms of the nationalisms of their future.

Keith Brown and the historian Irena Stefoska at the promotion of the Macedonian edition of the book The past in question: Modern Macedonia and the Uncertainties of Nation in December 2010. Photo by Vančo Džambaski, CC BY-NC-SA.

CriThink: Yet such issues seem to grow into central points of a slippery slope of international disputes, from Goce Delchev (Bulgaria-North Macedonia) to Nikola Tesla (Serbia-Croatia), Skanderbeg (Greece-Albania), Njegoš (Montenegro-Serbia) to King Marko (North Macedonia-Serbia-Bulgaria). Is there a way to resolve such issues at some higher, more objective level, rather than just between conflicting states, and based on their power?

KB: Social scientists, including historians (and I’d include myself in this assessment) don’t always keep up to date with developments in other disciplines and fields. This manifests itself in approaches rooted in the conventions of 19th century Newtonian sciences, with a focus on breaking down complex reality into experimental-size pieces, where we can test hypotheses in an “either/or” mode to determine cause and effect, the rules of energy transfer and transformation, and so on. Contemporary theoretical and experimental science, though, have moved far beyond this paradigm; into the world of quarks, bosons and quantum mechanics, where non-specialists can barely follow. Ask the average person where they stand on the wave-particle duality, and you’re probably in for a short conversation. It requires thinking in “both/and” terms that demands effort, and also a realignment of deeply held common-sense. But this lack of public understanding doesn’t prevent physicists from pursuing their work and generating new insight into the workings of the universe. Balkan history has been shaped by the territorial ambitions and disputes of the last century, and so has become a zero-sum game; it also has quasi-religious aspects, insofar as current debates reveal an implicit concern with purity and pollution underlying accusations around loyalty and betrayal. Grievances and disputes escalate; and (to pursue the game metaphor) there is no mechanism, in this case, by which both sides would agree to invest a referee with the authority to call the game fairly; the stakes are seen as too high. An alternative view would be that the dispute over Goce Delchev’s “true” identity, for example, is a classic case of the prisoner’s dilemma game; in which both sides fear that by surrendering their claim to ownership they will lose and the other side will win (Bragging rights? Prestige? The mantle of “true” nationhood?), but the consequence of their refusal to acknowledge ambiguity is that both sides are seen as intransigent or blinkered in the wider community of nations.

CriThink: Would some sort of International Scientific Tribunal need to be developed to prevent escalations, akin to tribunals used to provide closure for conflicts involving genocide and war crimes (Rwanda, Former Yugoslavia)?

KB: I don’t see value in an external tribunal offering some authoritative closure: for me, that’s not how history (or science) work. All findings are contingent and provisional: they are contributions to an ongoing exchange, the ultimate goal of which is not to set some conclusion in stone, but provide material that can open new horizons and perspectives.

CriThink: In the Balkans, contrary to the inherent role of professional journalists as promotors of democracy, the media often serve as amplifiers of the most radical and polarizing nationalistic views about history. Is there a way to embed critical thinking about history in the mainstream media sphere?

KB: My own fantasy solution is something like what a group of Macedonian youth leaders did in the second half of the 1980s with the Youth Film Forum (Mladinski filmski forum), and set up learning opportunities through engagement with film, literature and other prompts. What would happen, for example, if Bulgarian and Macedonian historians and journalists watched “Rashomon” together? Or undertook a joint project (perhaps with Albanian colleagues) on the economic, psychological and social effects of gurbet/pečalba? Or conducted a close joint study of the United States 1619 project? I believe they would emerge with a shared vocabulary to address issues of contingency, ambiguity, trauma and structural violence that are shared across the Balkan region—and beyond.

< p class='gv-rss-footer'>Written by Metamorphosis Foundation

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