#NOT THE AMMONIA STUPID !!!!!!!!!

[mod2amaryllis]

had a dream where my one fish tank broke (dream = all my fish together in one big tank) so i asked the local fish store to house them temporarily then dream time passed and i went back to the store and all over the store there were these small freshwater clams that strung weird black webbing in open air to spread from tank to tank, and they were parasitic?? so i check on my fish and they're all fucked up on these clams like their bodies are mushed in places and they have things trying to wiggle through their abdomens and I'm like aww man.... can someone help me move them to the back, employee goes yeah, picks up this full tank and it immediately breaks and my fish all spill to the floor. dream me is still conflict averse so I'm like "ohh dear it happens no worries" as i start picking up my horrifyingly sick fish. i carry them deeper in and try to find someone to help me, again very politely just "umm excuse me ope you're checking someone out that's fine I'll just keep carrying these fish in my bare hands" and the back of the store is a five star aquarium worthy fish store like it's so magnificent but i can't enjoy it, and when i finally find someone I'm like "are the clam parasites treatable" and he's like "yeah kinda" but i look down at my wretched little fucks and go "hmm... yknow i might just have to euthanize, unfortunately" and the employee starts sobbing.

then i woke up with a migraine and had to call in from work. good morning 🌞

[depeshemode]

.

[bibleofficial]

this aquascape produces so much fucking ammonia it’s pissing me off 😭😭😭

[valkerymillenia]

If I had a nickel for every time I accidentally made poison gas while cleaning the house and nearly killed myself, I'd have two nickels.

Which isn't much but it's weird it happened twice *violent coughing*

[piccolos-bigtoe]

Send these to you sweet <3 hearts, piss <3 lovers, and endangered <3 eagles. Graphic design is my passion. Six more to go now. My sibling is making me do ones of Halsin bg3, sam dranke, and Slippin' Jimmy Mcgill too...... Happy <3 Valentines <3 in ermmm four days,,? I think it's the 14th, I'm too lazy to check. Errrr yah, I don't have much to say for this one.

Man I love Sniper, one whiff of that guy though is likely fatal, he probably REEKS of pure ammonia. And if he's bad, imagine the van. God if I could go into that camper ONE time in this stupid baka life, sobbing, my beautiful princess, I'm sorry, perchance another life time mayhaps.

[reidmoony-toast]

Angel. pt.2 - sr x reader

Reader was shot and Spencer is there when she wakes up

content: fem reader, angst w comfort/ fluff, established relationship, no use of y/n

cw: canon compliant violence, blood, guns, hospitals, talk of death

wc: 2.6k

an: Part 1 is so much better than this but just pretend this doesn't suck! Anyways ily thanks for reading and all the support for pt 2 <33

Part 1

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“Pacing isn't going to help.” JJ reminded Spencer, as he crossed the waiting room in front of her once again. He halted for a moment, shooting her a dirty look.

She held up her hands in surrender, and he shook his head, continuing his relentless pacing. JJ really wasn't to blame for anything, and he would've felt bad if he had even a single neuron that could think about anything other than her.

The artificial lights glared down at him, and the smell of ammonia radiated from every surface, making him dizzy and giving him a painful headache. He hadn't had one this bad since... Since Maeve had helped him.

Bone-chilling dread washed over him. This couldn't end like Maeve. He refused that repeating narrative. He needed this time to be better, he needed her to be okay. The other option—he couldn't accept it. Not again.

A nurse walked in, and Spencer straightened, while JJ shot from her chair. “Is she okay?” JJ blurted.

Spencer said nothing. He hadn't said a word since he held her hand in the ambulance, whispering the words ‘stay with me’ over and over again. He hadn't spoken again since her hand went limp in his own.

“She's still undergoing surgery, so I can't say for sure, but she's a fighter.” The nurse replied politely. Spencer wondered how many times she's had to say a version of those words today. How many of those others didn't pull through.

“I will make sure to update you when I have more information.” She paused, staring straight at Spencer. “I need some paperwork filled out. Are you the husband?”

“Boyfriend.” His voice cracked as he used it for the first time in two hours. “She's, uh– my girlfriend.”

The nurse nodded in understanding. “I'm guessing you're still the next of kin, so I'll get you to fill out this, if that's okay?” The nurse asked softly, holding out a clipboard and pen.

He wanted to answer with ‘no’. That he didn't want to fill out a stupid form while his girlfriend was dying in the next room, but he nodded anyway, taking the clipboard in his tired grasp.

‘Girlfriend’ was never a strong enough word. She was his life force. His everything. The soul perfectly intertwined with his own. There was no word in the English language that could ever properly describe what she was to him.

The velvet box tucked into the back of his sock drawer would have made her Spencer's fiancé—which was by far a better word—but he supposed it was too late for that. The whole future they had planned for themselves was very likely to not come to fruition.

That thought alone made his heart ache, and his lungs feel like they were on fire—an agony like no other he had ever experienced.

He finally sat down, and began the futile attempt to fill out the pages of forms in front of him. It was almost impossible to focus, and he'd only written her first and last name before he laid the pen down, unable to continue.

Spencer's breath was still uneven and rattly, and his hands started to shake.

The past two and a half gruelling hours had been a tailspin into the depths of hell, and he felt as if he couldn't catch his breath, no matter what he did. He wasn't surprised, though.

He felt the breath from his lungs completely leave him when he saw her, lying in that car park, and it never returned again—as if her not being near sucked all the oxygen from the air around him. He was now living on borrowed air, and that air would run out if he never saw her again.

Spencer swore he could already feel his organs beginning to shut down, decaying from the inside out. Like they knew—they knew he would never survive if she didn't make it.

It just wasn't in his nature to live without her.

Spencer glanced up, and came face to face with his own reflection in the glass windows lining the sterile waiting room. A pale, gaunt face stared out at him, a man he could almost not recognise—if not for the fact it resembled his past self. The one on drugs. The one in prison.

A dried and flakey red substance lightly dotted his lower cheek—a bit of her blood he must have missed when he hastily wiped his face with his jacket sleeve.

Spencer looked down at his hands, properly, and saw that they too, still had blood on them—caked around his knuckles, between his fingers, under his fingernails. Places where JJ's gentle cleaning with a hospital rag had not reached.

It was fitting, really. He had blood on his hands. Literally and figuratively. If they had stayed together instead of splitting up to cover more ground, if he had noticed her absence sooner, if he was the one who went into that carpark, she would still be right here. Happy. Healthy. Breathing.

He knew JJ would scold him, say it wasn't his fault, but the guilt consumed him, washing over him in great waves—but, unlike the tide, the feeling didn't recede. Instead, it grew, like toxic mould on a dingy bathroom wall. Festering and rotten.

He couldn't help but feel that he was partly to blame. Everything he touched usually broke, so this didn't feel like an unrelated incident. It was always his fault.

A hand was placed gently on his shoulder, and he glanced up from where his head was hung to see JJ, sympathetic look on face, twisted with grief of her own.

He didn't reject the comfort, instead he brought his own hand to hers, squeezing it where it rested on his shoulder. He might not have shown it, but he was glad she was here. He probably wouldn't have been able to keep it together this well if he was alone.

Her company brought him a sense of comfort—knowing someone else cared for her, and for him, as well, made it substantially more bearable.

After a millennia, footsteps echoed eerily in the empty hall towards the waiting room, and they both snapped their gazes towards the door. The nurse hurried into the room, and they both sat, with bated breath, for the news that would either heal or break their whole world.

At least, Spencer's whole world. JJ had Will, Henry and Michael, and the rest of the team had their own families. They would be upset, but they would have a shoulder to cry on when they ventured home. He wouldn't. If he lost her, he had nothing left. Nowhere to call home—because she was his only home.

“It was touch-and-go for a while there, but she's out of surgery and in recovery. I can take you to see her, if you would like.” The nurse gave them a warm smile.

Spencer's heart felt like it finally started beating again after three hours, eight minutes and forty one seconds, like he wasn't fully alive in that time when her life was on the line. His entire body warmed, from head to toe, with all-encompassing relief. She was okay. She was alive.

It all felt too good to be true, like his brain was wired to always assume the absolute worst outcome possible. He had been living like she was already dead.

A breath escaped him, but his lungs still couldn't take in air properly. They wouldn't, not until he saw her with his own eyes.

“Yes. Please.” Spencer quickly added on the end, finally remembering the meaning of the word ‘manners’. The nurse nodded, turning on her heel to lead them to her.

“She's stable, but she'll be unconscious for at least a few hours.” She informed, stopping in front of a frosted glass sliding door that led to a private room. To her.

“Thank you.” He said quietly, and the nurse nodded in acknowledgement, setting off down the quiet corridor. Spencer’s heart raced, and he carefully peeled open the door, stepping into the room.

It was small, walls painted white, linoleum floor worn from foot traffic. A continuous beeping sounded around the room from the many machines monitoring the motionless figure laying on the hospital bed, covered by paper-thin sheets.

It was her. She was really here. Really alive.

He fell heavily into the rickety chair beside her bed, gaze not leaving her peaceful face. Even on the brink of death, she was the most gorgeous being he’d ever laid his eyes on.

He sucked in a deep breath, filling his lungs completely. They were working fine now, because hers were. He could see the slow rising and falling of her chest, and it brought him the most comfort of anything in the entire world.

Spencer reached up, cradling her hand in his own, brushing his thumb over her cold skin. That made him disproportionately heartbroken—her hands were usually like little hot water bottles, and Spencer often remarked about how inhumanly warm they were. Now, his hands warmed hers instead, and it felt wrong.

“I'm going to go and debrief with the rest of the team.” JJ spoke up from her position near the door. He had almost forgotten about her presence, and he nodded in acknowledgement, thankful for her obvious move to give him some time alone.

“Thanks, JJ.” Spencer said simply. She gave him a small smile, and left quickly. He didn't need to explain himself, because she knew what he meant. Thank you for staying with me, thank you for caring, thank you for giving me space, thank you for everything. She understood it all.

The door slid shut, and his attention was back on her. All that was important. His whole life was lying, unconscious, on the bed in front of him. But she was there, and that was more than he could ever ask for.

He brought her limp hand to his lips, kissing the smooth skin softly, eyes closing, as the first lone tear made a path down his cheek—the first of many. He cried for the first time today, silently, her hand still clutched tightly in his own.

~☆~

The first thing I felt when I faded into consciousness was pain. A deep throbbing sounded from my side, albeit less than my last memory.

The approaching sirens, and disjointed flashes from inside the ambulance. And in all of it, there was Spencer. Every moment I could remember, he was there. Always. Never leaving my side.

I cracked my eyes open, taking in the bare walls and bright lights of the hospital room. My vision swam in and out of focus, eyelids heavy.

I felt a weight on my arm, and looked down to see a mop of brown curls splayed over the scratchy linen sheets, head bowed and my hand clasped in both of his. Spencer was here. By my side. Forever and always.

He was bent over awkwardly in the little plastic chair beside my bed, and I couldn't help but think how uncomfortable he must be.

“Spencer.” I rasped out, limbs too heavy to reach out and run my fingers through his hair, like I so desperately wanted to do.

His head shot up quickly, seemingly not as inert as I thought he was. He squeezed my hand gently, lips lifting in a tiny smile of relief, expression unbelievably soft.

“Angel.” He breathed in awe, like he couldn't quite believe his eyes. “You're awake.”

“Hi.” I whisper, gazes never untangling from the snare they both found themselves trapped in.

“Hi.” Spencer echoed, taking one of his hands from mine to reach up and oh so gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. He moved it to carefully cradle my jaw and cheek, breathing my name like it was divine. I melted into his touch.

“My girl.” He murmured with reverence, studying my face intently, like I was something to be treasured. Like I was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. I could disagree completely—I almost died, so I was most definitely not looking my best. “How do you feel?”

“Like I just got shot.” I said dryly, voice hoarse. “I must look it, too.”

“You look perfect.”

“Liar.” I rasped, snorting. He narrowed his eyes, like he was about to fight me on the issue, but I interrupted.

“How long was I asleep?” I asked quietly, vocal cords upset from disuse. Or from the blood in my throat. I could still feel myself choking, airways blocked with my own blood.

I remembered the light-headedness from losing too much blood from my body. I remembered the warm blood pooling around me, soaking my clothes. I remembered, as clear as day, what dying felt like.

Spencer’s answer snapped me out of my dark thoughts.

“From when you exited the ambulance, it's been five hours and fifty-four minutes.” He recited immediately. I was impressed, but not surprised. It was Spencer, after all.

I hummed in acknowledgement, before silence fell. Spencer's bottom lip quivered slightly, and I wouldn't have noticed, if not for my constant staring. I frowned deeply, chest tightening. Seeing Spencer upset was incredibly hard.

He was a stoic man, rarely showing his sadness. When he did, it was only in the worst of situations. And now, seeing his palpable misery was beyond heartbreaking.

“I thought I'd lost you.” The almost unintelligible confession sounded after a beat. I wouldn't have heard if I hadn't been anticipating his response.

Spencer ducked his head, avoiding eye contact, and no doubt hiding his emotion. His whole body shuddered when I laid my free hand in his hair, smoothing his curls soothingly.

“Spence, hey.” I tried to coax him into looking back up at me, not wanting him to repress his emotions. I knew why. He was most definitely thinking that he was the one supposed to be comforting me, not the other way around. Which, was completely false.

“I'm here. I'm okay.” I reassured. He finally lifted his head again, and a pang was sent straight to my heart when I saw tears pooling in his eyes.

“You don't have to hide, okay?” I brushed away a tear that broke from his lashes and rolled down his cheek. “It's understandable that you're a mess.” He let out a huff, and I gave him a knowing smile.

“I've been asleep the whole time, and you've been here for five hours and fifty-four minutes.” I repeated back his numbers, and it pulled a tiny smile from his lips.

“Don’t downplay it, you were the one dying.” Spencer scolded, but without any heat.

“I would be a puddle on the floor by now, if it had been you.” Instead of giving him comfort, my words made his face fall again.

He screwed his eyes up, like he was in physical pain, hanging his head once again.

“It should have been me.”

“No.” I answered immediately, tone sharp. I grasp his face in both hands, ignoring the burning in my side. “Don’t say that.”

He didn't reply.

“It was not your fault, you hear me?” I voiced firmly, gaze flicking over his face. “Don’t.” A trembling breath followed.

After a long pause, he finally conceded.

“Okay.” He said shakily, eyes not leaving mine. My stare softened, satisfied with his answer.

“Good.” I pushed back the hair that had flopped into his eyes, moving my hands further into his curls. He sighed at the movement, lids fluttering shut as I dragged my fingers across his scalp. I hummed contentedly.

Bringing his face to mine, I kissed him gingerly. He lifted his hands up to cradle my own cheeks, pulling away only to press his lips to my forehead in a prolonged kiss, seeming to just breathe me in.

“I love you.” I whispered into the air between us.

“I love you too, angel girl.”

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Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 @reidmania @navs-bhat - comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[defire]

Painful/bad caretaking ideas

Content: very mild gore

(sometimes you don't have what you need or you are STUPID)

(plenty of wives tale type things)

Saltwater bath for cleaning wounds (stings)

I read that you can pee on wounds to clean them (DON'T) but it's a real myth out there (stings, infections)

Whumper that just uses myths for painful "treatment"--"some ammonia in the eyes should fix that defiance!" (Blindness? Burning)

Alcohol on wounds (stings and burns, can make it worse by drying it out)

Cutting away infected skin (you have to cut into the good skin a bit and it feels like ripping it off)

Pulling out the arrow

Stitches obviously but you can also use a good 'ol stapler <.<

"Tonic" for sickness (jalapenos and garlic soaked in vinegar for 3 weeks, or whatever horror you can come up with) (causes stomach pain)

Wormwood. For anything. It's so bitter it brings tears to your eyes (lots of side effects if you have too much)

(yes these are all real)

[bibibbon]

as one of the three mustard fans i feel obligated to yap about him to anyone who will listen.

in the grand scheme of things he’s not particularly important, but the few scenes he’s in definitely are.

he brings up something that many people forgot while watching the show.

that even in a world where people can turn their skin into steel or shoot acid from their hands, a bullet is a bullet.

that no matter how powerful your quirk is, if you get shot in the head you’re gonna fucking die 😭 i mean unless you have a regeneration quirk but those are pretty rare and if someone unloads a revolver into your skull i doubt your quirk would be able to keep up with the damage.

it shows people that a villain doesn’t need a powerful quirk to be dangerous. someone who’s competent with a gun or a knife can be just as dangerous as someone like dabi.

he’s also extremely intelligent. being able to tell where people are based on the movement of the gas isn’t something inherently related to his quirk, it’s a learned skill. he’s also very skilled with his gun, he was able to destroy tetsutetsu’s mask with one point blank shot. as well as being able to hit the same spot multiple times to break through tetsutetsu’s hardening.

when kendo says that mustard carries a gun around because he “can’t win a fight on his own merits” as much as i love her, she’s really stupid for that.

snipe’s whole thing is guns. his quirk has nothing to do with guns inherently, he just chose to use them. and support gear is a massive industry in this universe.

and no one talks about why this middle schooler has a gun and is hanging out with the LOV. that’s not exactly normal middle schooler behavior.

i have some theories so bear with me while i ramble about him.

so obviously he has a villainous quirk. his gas can kill people if they’re exposed to a concentrated amount of it for long enough. and he can’t control where the gas goes, only how much he releases.

(this is more of a headcannon but i like it too much to not share it. his father can create small amounts of purple mist around his body, and his mother sweats bleach. but one of his grandparents could create an ammonia based gas. and what happens when you mix ammonia and bleach? you get mustard gas. ik it’s kinda dumb but i like it.)

i believe that he had a hard time controlling his quirk as a child. with strong emotions causing him to activate his quirk.

in this universe there’s definitely schools/institutions for kids with dangerous quirks. so his parents probably shipped off to one of those institutions so they didn’t have to deal with him.

i feel like he resents the UA students because if an employer sees they went to UA, they have a way higher chance of getting the job.

but when they see that he went to an institution for kids with dangerous quirks, he could be rejected on the spot.

tl;dr i love mustard someone please sedate me

Since you posted this ask to me Iam assuming that Iam one of the three mustard fans and Iam honoured to be recognised as such.

As you know I have talked about mustard before and the potential his storyline has here.

Your whole rant makes me think that mustard in canon is basically the vision people have for fanon villain izuku and I love it.

Mustard brings up a good point which is that people rely on their quirks too much because someone with a uselss or a weak quirk can still be dangerous and powerful by honing in their other skills. Heroes who rely on their quirks primarily and nothing else are the ones that get injured and hurt the most because even if you have a powerful quirk it's not guaranteed to help you in every situation. Sometimes quirks cant always go up against technology as we see in the vigilante arc technology can very much overpower strong quirks whether you like it or not.

Oh I actually do like your headcanon. Personally I have always interpreted mustard as having an anaesthetic type quirk something similar to midnight. I wish the series delved into midnight and mustard interactions especially because mustard is too young to go to jail as people in Japan can only be punished for their crimes when they're above the age of 14.

Reputations and public image are very important things in MHA whether you're a hero or not. Mustard going to that type of institution is interesting although I don't think there are any in canon. I have interpreted it as mustard having something similar to toga where they both suffered from horrible quirk counselling and were told to control themselves not taught how and an incident happend and they ended up here. However everything that comes to mustard to me is 10 times more interesting simply because of how young he really is and how vague everything about him is

[darius20020]

My god I curse working on the laptop. My PC exploded and started to smell like ammonia. It won't be fixed soon, but the laptop is stupid

[green-hoedrogen]

Ok so in my fic Slip I vaguely based Hydra off of a DOT-114 tanker because i could find the specification really easily they're sometimes used for pressurised gasses, but GOOD NEWS! I was wrong and also stupid :)

I've been recreationally overthinking this all day, for funsies. The interesting thing is, in Europe we don't really have H2 on the rails in that way yet- DB cargo is doing a lot of work there, but not in any formats that match up with the green bean. We know he doesn't carry ammonia or methanol because his fuel is usable without pre-processing, and we know he's not any sort of MEGC. The only other option in europe is cryocontainers of LH2, but they're intermodal- you can put one on a ship, unload it onto a lorry or a flatbed or whatever, and go about your merry way. so not that neither.

(sidebar: I know he is a creation of andrew lloyd webber's twisted mind and also a twink on rollerskates, but shh. im playing touys.)

The likelier option, imo, is that he's carrying cryogenic liquid hydrogen. This would track with some sliiightly older technologies (and i really do mean slightly) like liquid natural gas, which has already been used in duel-fuel locomotives. At time of writing, the only thing I could scrounge up that's actually authorised for cryogenic hydrogen transport on US rails are DOT-113 tanker cars, which are usually designed for other cryogenic liquids but. Uh. Im sure its fine. Nowt in the UK yet, we've got all of it on the roads at the minute. He's some kind of freaky half-to-spec pilot project to me anyways, I just need to ballpark.

According to the Railway Association of Canada's Railway Emergncy guide, DOT-113A60W tankers have a working temperature of -423F, which is the temperature hydrogen becomes liquid at.

So! That means we're working with DOT-113A60W!Hydra, or at least something similar! :D He's got a tank-within-a-tank system, weather-shielded loading/unloading valves, and DO NOT HUMP OR CUT OFF WHILE IN MOTION stenciled somewhere easy to see. Thank you for coming to my ted talk!

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine going to the fire festival with King

You: *just joined the crew* do we all have to go to the fire festival?

King: Attendance is strongly encouraged

You: ah so we're being voluntold to go to this party.

King: yes, but it's not just a party, it really is a festival over in the capitol. It has food, music, and all that fun stuff.

You: oh, so we get to go to the capitol during it?

King: well... no, you have to stay at Onigashima.

You: ugh fine I'll go, but I'm gonna complain the whole time.

King: *lets out a long-suffering sigh* yeah, I know.

At the party

King: *finds you hiding up on the roof* So this is where you ran off to.

You: Sorry to disappear like that, but I promise I just needed some air, and a break from Orochi and his stupid laugh.

King: understandable *sits down next to you*

You: I mean, my god he sounds like a deranged horse when he laughs. How can any of you stand it?

King: because he's useful at the the moment. So please grin and bear it. But it's snowing, so we should head back inside soon, so you don't get sick.

You: In a while *Sees lights start to rise from the capitol* what are those?

King: oh, those are the sky lanterns. The people of Wano send those up with messages to their dead.

You: it's so pretty, we could never have something like this back where I'm from.

King: What, why?

You: it would inevitably end in a wildfire, and we have too many of those as is.

King: What, how many of those do you have?

You: enough that it occasionally rains ash.

King: What does that look like?

You: Kind of like a snow flurry, except it's hot out and doesn't taste good to catch on your tongue. Not that snowflakes really do have much of a taste. *Catches one on your tongue*

King: well yeah, it's ash, dummy, it isn't going to taste good. And you shouldn't eat the snow, it's full of fumes from the factories.

You: huh, is that why it leaves a funny aftertaste of ammonia?

King: *stands up and urges you to get to your feet* You're getting your mouth washes out.

You: *flails uselessly* Nooo!

King: *grabs your arm and lifts you, trying to get you to stand up* I'm not going to carry you, but I will go get the doctors. Do you really want to disturb them on one of their only days off?

You: *freezes*

King: that's what I thought.

You: You owe me sushi for this. *Supports your own weight*

King: yeah yeah, you can have all the food you want, let's get inside.

List of Up-and-coming works

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[your-god-empress-lavender]

Shoulda said this earlier, but like, the colours are almost definitely coming from copper complexing with Cl. Like, the red, literally probably just CuCl3(-) and the light green that happens when you leave it out for too long is probably just CuCl4(2-) Now, the colours match, but then i ask why that only happens in old samples. IDK if it really matters, but yeah. Also, turns out that maybe the boron is less important than previously thought? Like, the mixture doesn't work without it, but given the saturation solubilities, there's like, so so little boron in the final product. Calling this a borate is stupid, it's more likely a sulphate (from the KAl(SO4)2), oxide, or chloride (most likely a mixture of those things). I would theorize that the purpose of the borax is to neutralize it and that the job may be accomplished by other bases, except when only NaOH was used, the resulting compound was not observed to have the property. This may, however, be because of the excess Na, not the lack of boron? Given that i now have boric acid as well as borax, we should try more things. The *very quick and almost definitely inaccurate* formula would look something like CuAl4K4Ca5Cl11S7O30. This makes no sense to me, but this is just based off all the ingredients that were present as more than 1% of the total. If you want to include all ingredients, it looks something like NaB2Cu11Al40K40Ca50S80Cl122O326. Now, this is based off rough estimates, so give like +-5% to all those numbers. This continues to not make a lot of sense to me, so if anyone can make sense of what's happening, i'd appreciate it.

Short update

College is pretty nice, the people are great, the classes mostly easy (though the workload is a bit worse than IB and worse, most of the homework is actually graded). What i really wanted to talk about was the magnetically interesting substance. I've finally got some pure, lab-grade chemicals from a local science supply store, and have done quite a few experiments.

The first thing i will report is that this thing is so porous/puffy, probably because all the water boiling off leaves tiny pockets in everything. Next thing is that i'm consistently seeing much stronger colouration (most batches come out quite strongly green, then turn orange/red as they grow older, and usually only after re-heating, they sometimes turn white). In the first experiments, the red particles only showed up about 20 minutes after finishing cooking and showed no response to magnets, whereas the green ones were strongly reacting. After further study, this is expected to not be because whatever is giving the colouration is not giving the effect after oxidation (or reduction maybe???????) but rather because the pieces that turned red were the ones removed from the cooking vessel first and thus had the most exposure to moisture, which waterlogged them. This brings me to my next point which is that every* batch that worked was deliquescent and within around 25 minutes of cooking, every particle having its own little puddle around it. This, probably obviously, is a problem as it means that the samples *must* be tested and or used fairly immediately. Related to this, i tried one batch where i kept a standard formulation, but removed just one of the ingredients. As there were 4 ingredients, there were 4 batches. (none showed any response to a magnet) The batch with removed calcium was an extremely dark green, showed no response to a magnet, but did not deliquesce nor absorb moisture to an appreciable degree. It also fluoresced strongly under UV light, but only the samples that were partially cooked but not fully (it bubbled way more than any other batch and threw blobs of partially cooked copper aluminium borate everywhere). The batch without copper just sat there as white chunks and then dissolved itself, very uninteresting. The batch without aluminium was faintly blue, but generally just kinda a lame powder that dissolved itself. The batch without the boron was really lame, it also just sat there as a dark green powder and then dissolved itself.

Some batches (most notably the first one) were more interesting in that they would dissolve themselves into puddles the colour of the particles that the puddles surrounded, but then when water was added, they would turn into a bright blue like most hydrated copper. Other interesting effects include the gradual whitening of the material with each time it was re-heated and the fact that over all, there weren't significantly different effects between particles of different colours which indicates, of course, that whatever is causing colour has little to no effect on the magnetic effect.

Batches with less calcium show less sensitivity to water, even to the extent of not dissolving/coming loose when water is added (adding calcium solution and then re-heating it, then trying to take it out with water does seem to work tho). Batches with very little (but not no) calcium are barely sensitive to a magnet, however batches which are extremely high in calcium show somewhat worse sensitivity to a magnet, but are also extremely deliquescent. The batch with extremely high copper showed no reaction to a magnet, but also took longer to dissolve itself and as of 24 hours after making it, has not changed colour at all. Batches where boric acid was used to replace the borax (admittedly, not by mole, but instead by volume of the saturated solution, so not really a good substitution) showed significantly less sensitivity to a magnet, but also showed slightly less deliquescence.

* There was one batch that both showed the effect and didn't dissolve itself, however it was also the weakest batch that showed any response and so i kinda just scrapped it

Also, before i go, i wanted to say that for my earlier attempts (back at home) "high sensitivity to a magnet" meant "there's like a good 1/15 of the particles that jump or react to this magnet" but now "high sensitivity" means "just about every single particle reacts to a magnet in some way and the first time i brought a magnet near the sample, a few dozen particles were violently shot across the room". I don't know how much of this is just due to purity changes and how much is something else, but either way, i'm impressed. (also, if it's just purity changes, i must have been significantly overestimating the purity of what i had before)

[rainbow-0bsidian]

Jean dragged Nathaniel, half conscious and definitely bleeding, to the edge of the bed. His hands shook as they did the Master’s bidding.

A bright dollop of underdeveloped dye dripped red on Nathaniel’s forehead as Jean massaged the color through his hair. The smell of ammonia churned his stomach, already sick with the knowledge that whatever found Nathaniel out there would be only marginally better than what he’d have faced at the Nest.

Nathaniel was so stupid. He shouldn’t have come; he should never have defied the Master. Even as Jean loathed him, he envied that he was leaving.

Again.

Complete work on AO3.

[munsonology]

Officially got my first hate anon! I like that I’m a safe place for many people here, and known for being kind because I am, but that doesn’t mean I can’t take you to the library! And guess what you dumb bitch, I was doing laundry and I HAVE TIME

First of all you fucking loser ya mama must’ve been cleaning with bleach and ammonia because of how stupid you sound, and if you’re this fuckin dumb she should’ve aborted your cretin ass.

The fact that you sent the same shit to multiple people just proves you know how to copy and paste. You’re a pussy. You say this shit on anon like it gives you some power when the gag is you’re a fucking loser who has nothing else going on than tumblr bullshit and since you have nothing going on on there too you wanna start bullshit. Newsflash! I’m not the fuckin 1 or the 2. I reported you to tumblr for perpetuating hate of protected categories ya dumb fuck.

Now let’s unpack some of these ‘claims’ you think you made.

1. I’ve never stolen shit. Everything I’ve posted has been an original thought from MY mind, something you seem to lack. I don’t need to steal shit from anybody.

2. Obviously you must be a fan since you’re able to identify such ‘claims’ (fake news btw)

3. I’m not gay, if you hadn’t noticed how much I talk about DICK AND BALLS. Shout out to all the lesbians and those who do refer to themselves as dykes! You make the world go round ❤️

4. Ugly I am not, in fact it must make your blood boil at how I’m NOT fucking ugly. I have big titties and a fat ass, I don’t need to offer Joesph Quinn $1 million to look my way because he’d look my way for free

5. I’m not confused about my sexuality, I like dick

6. Everybody you named are just a handful of the sweetest people I’ve met online, who have all been burned by bigger writers for one reason or another. Nobody has made a clique, it’s called friendships of which you have none. I’m friends with many people here, many who to my surprise hate each other, but I manage to safely and lovingly interact with most, and you will NOT destroy the bubble I’ve built, especially when it comes to my beautiful and lovely anons (of which you are not and never will be)

7. This wasn’t in your manifesto but I’m going to assume you’re another writer as well because let’s face it, there’s no way you’re not, not with being this chronically online.

8. Idk who tf you’re mad at but it ain’t us beloved

9. Fuck you

10. You gonna end up eating cement running your mouth like this, because if you do this shit irl…idk get ya casket ready or somethin

Dumb cunt 💀

[shittysawtraps]

Hello, Jerry,

You're currently bound to the wall in the very single-occupancy restroom you refuse to clean safely. Your reckless use and combination of cleaning products has hurt innocent people. Now, it's time to clean up your act.

The toilet bowl before you is full of bleach powder, and the tank is full of ammonia. In your hand, there is a brick. If you drop the brick, the toilet will flush, combining the ammonia with the bleach and killing you with chloramine gas.

If you hold onto the brick until the morning shift comes, they will save you from this predicament. Hopefully.

Should you fail, well, that's just one more toxic mess they'll remember you by.

Make your choice.

*cassette recorder set down noise*

Alright, Amanda, it's done. Will you please tell John I finished the stupid fucking trap, UNDER BUDGET, and that he can crawl out of my asshole now?

[wahbegan]

Like damn sorry the HEAVENLY SPHERES were not custom-designed by God Itself to be visually appealing to your sad little fucking three-receptor visual spectrum monkey eyes you stupid dumb idiot ass fucking moron, sorry the fucking PLANET that rains DIAMONDS over an ocean of frozen methane and ammonia disappoints you, you insignificant speck of cosmic dust. You shrill, screaming nothing!!! GET THIS GUY OUTTA HERE!!! GET HIM OUTTA HERE I'M GONNA HURT HIM