#Day 86

[psicheanima]

Be saved by birthing, or else be silent

[daily-odile]

very simple odile in hyperrealistic jordans

[dailykaeyas]

Hanging out at (on?) angels share

[daily-leon]

Drew these in some creepy motel

[wigglesdtuff]

Panel redraw for some expression practice... Oda is very good at this

[kaveh-a-day]

Day 86

[werewolfaday]

day 86

[ryoshudoodles]

86° Day of waiting for Canto 9

[autisticaradiamegido]

day 86

do any of yall ever have like. an Evil infodump? where instead of endlessly word vomiting about a thing you love and are very informed about, there is a thing you are equally well-informed about but hate with a passion that you cannot hold back in conversation?

i do :')

(I'll put it under the cut for the curious because I think it's important and i cannot be stopped but also i'm not kidding the facts are infuriating)

SO. "Homeopathic" is often interpreted as sort of a vague synonym for "natural," or "organic," but it's actually related to a system of alternative medicine that means something Very Specific.

There are two main principles behind the practice of Homeopathy.

"Like cures like." This is the idea that, for example, if you have a headache, taking a veeeery small amount of a substance that is known to CAUSE headaches will cure that symptom. I understand where people fall into this flawed idea, as it sounds very similar to the principles behind, say, vaccines, or antivenom. But it isn't universally applicable in this way. An herb isn't a virus. But even if it was, a Homeopathic preparation of that herb would not have any effect on the body because of the second principle.

"Water has memory." This is the idea that water is able to "remember" any substance that it has had contact with. This is also not true. Molecules don't really have any way to store information like that, and even if they did, well... What would that information do inside our bodies? Would our cells have any way to interpret and process that information? What would they do with it? It's all rather nebulous and it seems like more of a spiritual claim than a scientific one. Which is fine, but is not medicine.

So, with these principles in mind, the process of creating a "Homeopathic Preparation of [insert substance here]" goes a little something like this: You take a dropper and put one drop of your active substance in a container with a hundred drops of water. You then take a drop of that mixture, and put it in another container with another hundred drops of water. You continue this dilution process until there is, quite literally, a near-zero percent chance that your mixture contains even a single molecule of your original active substance (depending on the level of dilution believed to be best for the substance in question. Typically, a higher dilution is considered more potent.) So it is, by this point, literally just a vial of water.

This vial of water is what is then sold as a "Homeopathic preparation of [substance]." OR that water is used to compound a batch of sugar pills, or gel capsules, or tablets, whatever format is being offered. Regardless, the composition of the tincture is literally just water and ~*vibes*~.

And they sell these vials of expensive vibe water! At!!!

THE PHARMACY!!! WITH LIKE THE IBUPROFEN AND ALL THE OTHER REAL MEDICINES!!! AND NO BIG WARNING LABELS THAT SAY, "THIS CONTAINS NO ACTIVE INGREDIENTS AND IS BASED ON VIBES ALONE," OR ANYTHING LIKE THAT!!

In fact! In the US they are able to advertise that they have been FDA approved! (FDA approval of dietary supplements is not the same as FDA approval of actual medications. In the context of supplements, approval just means they've proved it won't just kill you straight up, and thus you're allowed to sell it.) And, well. It certainly won't kill you! In fact they often also advertise things like, "It's natural!" and "No harmful side effects!" and "No risk of overdose!" and it's all technically true! BECAUSE IT'S JUST WATER! LIKE I CAN'T STRESS ENOUGH HOW IT'S LITERALLY JUST WATER!!!

Anyway. Please keep this in mind the next time you are offered a homeopathic remedy, or see one advertised in the store, or hear your antivaxxer auntie bragging about the fact that her kids all got a "homeopathic" alternative to their MMR shots.

IT'S! JUST! VIBE WATER!!!!

[days-until-burnout]

Ranchers (romantic) but Actor/Movie/Celebrity AU, first meeting while working on a film together

p.s. love your writing <3

[insert comments] edited: FANK U ANON. GLAD YE LIKE ME WRITIN' HEARTS FOR YE _____

📧 Day 86 -

Characters - Jimmy/Tango (ft. Etho) Words - 1,156 Time - 45 mins Content - Actor AU

On his way to set, Tango halted, head snapping in the direction of… yelling? Was the sun hitting him hard?

But no. Another faint 'help' echoed, and he… went to check.

It was the first day on set, after a delayed flight, and he was sure he was probably delaying shooting already. For once, this wasn't a horror movie—rather, it was a cowboy movie, something about sheriffs and bandits, along those lines. Jetlag was still latched onto his mind so he didn't quite remember how it went, which made him realize that he probably did not remember his line.

Another yell.

Okay.

Well.

If this is how he was going to die, then at least it wouldn't be from embarrassment of not remembering his lines.

Tango turned to his right, inching closer to the where the yelling was coming from. He had just exited his own trailer so he was walking down a row of trailers, eyes glossing over a couple names—his co-stars, a pretty stacked up cast.

Until he reached one, the lead's—Jimmy Solidarity, and the place where the pleas for help were coming from.

He swallowed, looking around as a knot caught in his throat, an awful feeling in his gut. The lead was in danger, which put the whole production in danger. He should go for help, right? Get the beefy security to deal with it, let someone else deal with the possible gore inside. Right?

Oh god, he had to be the good samaritan.

Tango walked up the couple steps, hand on the handle, another wash of chills running down his back as Jimmy called out for help again. His voice was hoarse, so incredibly loud this close—had Jimmy been calling for help long?

Slowly, petrified still, Tango pushed the door open.

(In hindsight, pushing the door without calling out or peeking was probably the worse idea for Jimmy. For all Jimmy knew, the person on the other side of the door could've been someone dangerous. Tango didn't think about it too long.)

The screaming stopped abruptly, prompting Tango to quickly jump in front of the open door in fear—which, bad idea, because the suddenness sent Jimmy into a wordless screaming fit, and that sent Tango into his own screaming fit.

It lasted a minute—the longest sixty seconds in both their lives, and they had sat through nosy conferences and boring interviews.

"God," Tango breathed out as he regained composure, heaving as he ran a hand through his hair. Then he looked up at Jimmy, a mix of feeling water-falling on his face. Pretty obviously, because Jimmy looked at him sheepishly.

Jimmy, in his sheriff get-up, was sitting on the couch-bed, arms tied to his sides. The top buttons of his shirt was undone, and his hair was a mess, cowboy hat tipped back. It… was quite the sight. His eyes were drawn constantly on the lines, a red rope that stood starkly against the white of his shirt, the brown of his pants, and just framing… Oh.

Tango sputtered as his face burst into a furious red, jolting back before remembering he was there to help, holding onto the railing as his body tipped back and forth in confusion. He heaved, mind blanking as he stared dumbly.

It was a very horrible set-up to some porn film.

There, he thought it. Lock him up or something.

"Uh… Hi?"

"Sorry! Didn't mean to intrude in—"

"No, no! Don't go. Please. Help me, please."

Tango hesitated again, tightening his grasp on the handrail. He sucked a breath then finally took the final step up. The air was suddenly heavy, getting stuffier as he walked over—the six, seven steps anyways. Then he was looking down, trying to focus on his face but his eyes kept dropping to the red rope.

When he caught himself staring, he moved swiftly, sitting on the edge of the bed and forcing his eyes into Jimmy's bicep instead. He reached a hand to the knot, hesitating one more time as he watched Jimmy tense.

"Hah, how… how'd you…" Tango asked, or tried to ask as he finally pinched the knot, twisting it to examine it first before he tried to undo it. His voice dropped as the question did, though it was obvious what he was asking about.

Jimmy sighed, "Joel. Got… Got mad at me and… this. Yeah…"

"Your… best friend, Joel?"

"Yup."

The conversation staled quickly. The situation was very awkward. Much too awkward for either of them to… talk. Converse. Tango was barely breathing as he yanked on the rope, and he could barely catch a gasp at the little sounds Jimmy made. All awful. Murder was probably better—Tango wondered if that could still happen.

Joel was good with rope, that much Tango knew as he failed again.

He slid two fingers under the rope, the warmth of Jimmy's body against the back of his hand made him lightheaded. His head spun, unable to focus on the rope or the knot or even breathing.

"Might need to cut it."

Tango practically threw himself off the bed screaming. Two head-bumps and more screaming later, Tango snapped towards the door, finding a familiar face standing there. Leaning against the side, arms crossed, head tilted with a raised brow.

"Sorry to interrupt your play," Etho spoke, but Tango could pick up the tease under the faux worry, "but everyone's looking for our lead. I can leave and tell them you're not feeling up to it."

Etho smirked under that damn mask—Tango had no proof but he knew.

With a glare, and some squeaks from Jimmy, the pair looked for some scissors or anything sharp. They came up short, and before Tango bolted to get external help, Etho gave it a go.

The knot was undone and the rope was tossed on the bed, all three of them speed walking out of Jimmy's trailer. Jimmy thanked them quickly before he ran ahead, guilt colored on his face.

Tango stared down at their shadows, face still burning hot. He could not stop thinking about… well, Jimmy's body. Because of the contract or whatever, Jimmy had gotten back in shape—more in shape, because he was quite toned already. And whoever was in charge of costumes knew exactly what the fans liked because Jimmy's shirt stuck to his body, and it was a little see-through since it was slightly damp from sweat. And oh. Oh—

Etho hummed, breaking the otherwise wordless walk. Tango snapped up to him, just then realizing Etho was in a similar getup to Jimmy—the good guys of the film, despite his personal feeling towards Etho's virtue.

Unlike them, with their blues, he was in red for the bad guys—the bandits.

"Hey, funny thing," Etho spoke, humor in his tone. Tango had a bad feeling. "Isn't that the guy you're typing up in some scene?"

Tango nearly fainted.

_____

girl help. how do etho & joel keep sneaking into these</3

[daily-bipper-brainrot]

WHAT DID STEVE DO TO HAVE A ANTI-STEVE CLUB...

[adeleine-everyday]

day 86

no cool caption but i wanna bake her in an oven

[badlydrawnkankri]

[magoranzz]

86. white out

[daily-bdoubleo]

[day 86] today Bdubs is cosplaying as @geminitay-daily !

Im so proud of him. He finally got wigs to cosplay with lol. No more spray paint.

[daily-yanqing]

(day 86) yanqing if he was hatsune miku