#PROTEINS CROSS LINK

[i-am-q]

KATIE LUCAS (MAIDEN NAME), I DO NOT CONSENT TO TREATMENT

Dr. Koven of Santa Barbara involuntary inpatient facilities, I do not consent to treatment.

Kelly Soa (Maiden Name), I do not consent to treatment

Zoe Mackay ZACKER, I do not consent to treatment.

Dr. Masa and the staff at Marion Regional Medical Facilities and the greater Santa Barbara/Cruz County areas thank you for respecting my lack of consent to treatment and attempting to keep my brain working (ie. allowing for neurotransmitters to diffuse and bind to their correct receptors at the steady state that my body operates under—whether you think it’s healthy or not).

To the pharmacist at CVS on E Market, thank you for also respecting my current treatment which follows the same treatment I have undergone for the last 10 years minimum and not blocking the medication I am prescribed from working.

To those of you interested in research conducted on my body-Addie Keating otherwise referred to as one of the following names through sophisticated image and video augmentation (ie. “Deep Fakes”):

Kayla Keating, Elly Zaid, Shannon Zaid, Savannah Snyder, Reaghan Ruff, Daria King, Libby Aker, Gabby Dangle, Gabby Rey, Abby Mackay Zacker (ie. Abbie Keating), Zoe Mackay Zacker, Carrie Wagner, Mackenzie McPike (ie Mac/Mackenzie/Kenz/Kenzie Lofgren), Erin McPike, Madison McPike? (Just in case they need someone new), Luciana Rivera Molina, Kayla Williams Pavlantos, Mary Richter, Riley Richter, Madison Richter (or any other cousins that are now POWs to the Lesbian Nazis in my family), Constantine IU, or Edy, EA, your local community college is enrolling for the fall.

Prerequisites to be considered for this study are General Chemistry I and II (no nursing chemistry does not count—you would not be funded by the NIH), Organic Chemistry I and II, Physical Chemistry I and II, Quantum Chemistry/Physics or a Basic Understanding of molecular tunneling, Multivariable Calculus (yes this requires Calculus I and II), Research Ethics, Q-Level security clearance, Genetics, Previous Experience or Funding with the NIH, NSF, etc.

Finally, a verbal agreement that you can in fact refer to me as Ho-O due to a mutual respect for the Born-Oppenheimer approximation prior to learning from the slave tutor, Dr. Addie Keating, PhD while on her road trip “journey”

*Yes the subject does not need the same prerequisites as those “researching” her.

[materialsscienceandengineering]

Cooking Flawless Pasta

Scientists have pinpointed energy-efficient ways to cook al dente pasta and developed an infallible recipe for the perfect cacio e pepe sauce. [...] A bowl of steaming hot pasta covered in your favorite sauce and dusted with a healthy dose of parmesan cheese comes high on the list of ultimate comfort foods. But cooking that pasta to perfection can be more difficult than seemingly simple recipes imply. Now two separate teams of researchers have explored two different aspects of executing a flawless dish. In one study, Phillip Toultchinski and Thomas Vilgis of the Max Planck Institute for Polymer Research, Germany, studied whether perfectly al dente spaghetti could be prepared in a more energy-efficient way [1]. In a second study, Matteo Ciarchi and Daniel Busiello of the Max Planck Institute for the Physics of Complex Systems, Germany, Giacomo Bartolucci of the University of Barcelona, Spain, and colleagues developed a recipe for making perfect cacio e pepe, a three-ingredient cheese sauce that is surprisingly easy to mess up [2]. “It is very difficult to make this sauce,” says Busiello. “You are almost always doomed to fail.”

Read more.

[amyzworldds]

Part Two: Thirteen Cheers for Fourteen

Masterlist | Part 1

In a whirlwind of hate and heartbreak, Y/N, the lone female maknae of Seventeen, faces relentless backlash from fans, pushing her to leave the group and vanish abroad. After a year of silence, she returns to Korea, forging a solo path with a powerful comeback, while the thirteen boys grapple with her absence. Pairing: Seventeen x 14th member Genre: Fluff, Humor, lil bit of angst

The past few months had flown by in a whirlwind for Y/N. Her solo comeback was locked and loaded—tracks mastered, choreography polished, music video edits finalized. The announcement had dropped a week ago, a sleek press release from her company that sent shockwaves through the industry. News outlets picked it up fast, headlines flashing her name: “Y/N Returns: Solo Debut Set to Redefine Her Legacy.” Carats—those who’d loved her even through the storm—flooded social media with support. “We’re so proud of you, Y/N.” “You’ve always been enough.” “Welcome back, uri maknae.” She’d scrolled through the comments late one night, her chest tight with something she hadn’t felt in years: gratitude.

Seventeen had finished their world tour a month ago, their triumphant return splashed across every K-pop platform. She’d watched clips—Seungkwan’s goofy waves to the crowd, Mingyu’s dimpled grin, Hoshi’s wild energy. They were back in Seoul now, back in the HYBE building, but their paths never seemed to cross. She’d linger by the elevators sometimes, half-hoping to hear Dino’s laugh or catch Joshua’s quiet hum, but it was always silence. She wanted to see them—God, she was ready—but the thought of texting first made her stomach twist. What if they were mad? What if they’d moved on? She’d left them without a word; maybe she’d look like a fool reaching out now.

That afternoon, she’d been halfway out the door with her manager, headed to a meeting, when she froze. “My laptop,” she muttered, patting her bag. “I left it in the practice room.”

Her manager sighed, glancing at his watch. “Hurry. I’ll wait in the car.”

She bolted back into the HYBE building, sneakers squeaking on the polished floor as she darted for the elevator. It dinged open just in time, and she slipped inside, tapping her foot impatiently as it climbed to the fourth floor. The practice room was down the hall—she’d grab the laptop and be out in thirty seconds. No big deal.

She shoved the door open, breathless, expecting an empty room. But then she stopped dead.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The Seventeen practice room was a mess of noise and motion, the kind of chaos only thirteen boys could create. Hoshi and DK were mid-argument over who’d eaten the last protein bar, their voices overlapping in a ridiculous crescendo. “You’re a human vacuum, Dokyeom!” Hoshi shouted, flopping dramatically onto the floor. Vernon lounged against the mirror, scrolling his phone, while Seungkwan tried to mediate, yelling, “Can you two shut up for five seconds?” Mingyu and Jun were laughing at something on Mingyu’s phone, and Woozi sat at the table, scribbling notes for Carat Land, their annual fan event just weeks away.

They’d seen Y/N’s comeback news. It had popped up on their group chat a few days ago—Joshua had sent the link with a simple, “She’s back.” The room had gone quiet then, each of them processing it in their own way. “I’m proud of her,” Seungcheol had said, his voice firm but soft. “She’s doing it on her own terms.” Jeonghan had nodded, twisting that old “Hannie” bracelet around his wrist. “Wonder why she hasn’t said anything to us, though.”

“Maybe she thinks we’re pissed,” Dino had mumbled, kicking at the floor. “We’re not, right?”

“Never,” Mingyu had replied, his eyes sad. “She’s still our maknae.”

They’d spotted her laptop earlier—a sleek silver thing left on the bench. “Someone’s gonna come for it,” Wonwoo had said, moving it to the table. They’d assumed it was a staff member’s.

Until the door flew open.

The room fell silent, a collective breath held as thirteen pairs of eyes locked onto her. Y/N stood there, frozen in the doorway, her chest heaving from the run, her hoodie slipping off one shoulder. She looked different—her hair shorter, dyed a soft ash blonde, her face sharper but brighter, like she’d shed a layer of weight. But those eyes—wide, startled, glistening—were the same ones they’d known for a decade.

She stared back, her mouth parting slightly, no sound coming out. ascended into chaos. The boys didn’t move, didn’t speak—just watched her, as stunned as she was.

“Uh…” Y/N’s voice was barely a whisper, breaking the spell. She glanced at the table, spotting her laptop. “My laptop.” She stepped forward, grabbing it with shaky hands, and offered a small, nervous smile. “Sorry, I just—forgot it.” She turned to leave, her heart pounding, her feet itching to flee.

“Y/N,” Seungcheol called, his voice rough but warm, stopping her cold.

She paused, her hand on the doorknob, and slowly turned back. He stood up, his eyes locked on hers, and the others followed—one by one, rising, closing the distance. She didn’t move, couldn’t, as they surrounded her.

“You’re back,” Jeonghan said, his voice soft, almost disbelieving. He reached out, hesitating, then pulled her into a hug. “God, you’re really back.”

That broke the dam. Mingyu was next, wrapping his long arms around her, lifting her off the ground slightly as he laughed, wet and shaky. “We saw the news. You’re killing it, huh?”

“Proud of you,” Joshua added, his hand resting on her shoulder, his smile gentle but teary. “So damn proud.”

Hoshi barreled in, nearly knocking her over with his hug. “You can’t just leave us hanging like that again, okay? We need updates!”

One by one, they piled on—Dino clinging to her arm, Seungkwan sobbing into her hair, Vernon ruffling it with a quiet, “Missed you, kid.” Woozi hung back, but his nod and small smile said everything. DK squeezed her hand, Jun draped an arm over her shoulders, and Wonwoo just stood close, his presence steady and sure.

Seungcheol stepped forward last, cupping her face in his hands. “You’re still ours, you know that? Doesn’t matter if you’re solo. We love you. Always will.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, and the tears came—not the broken, jagged ones of before, but soft, warm ones, spilling over as she looked at them. Her boys. Her family. “I missed you,” she choked out, her voice cracking. “So much. I didn’t know how to—I thought you’d hate me.”

“Hate you?” Mingyu’s voice broke, incredulous. “You’re our maknae. We’d never.”

“We’ve been waiting,” Jeonghan said, brushing a tear from her cheek. “Whenever you were ready.”

She laughed through her sobs, a shaky, real sound, and pulled them closer, the laptop forgotten on the floor. “I’m sorry I left. I just… I had to figure it out. But I’m here now.”

“Good,” Seungkwan sniffled, clinging to her. “Don’t you dare disappear again.”

They stayed like that for a long time, a tangle of arms and tears and laughter, the chaos she’d missed so fiercely. The silence was gone, replaced by their voices, their warmth. She wasn’t alone anymore.

--------------------------------------------------------------

The day Y/N’s music video dropped, her phone wouldn’t stop buzzing. She’d barely had time to process the release—her album Unraveled hitting streaming platforms, the sleek, cinematic MV racking up views—when a group chat she hadn’t opened in over a year lit up like a Christmas tree. The culprits? Her thirteen former bandmates, now self-proclaimed presidents of her fan club.

“WHERE’S OUR MERCH, Y/N?!” Hoshi’s message screamed in all caps, followed by a string of tiger emojis. “I need that hoodie with your name on it YESTERDAY.”

“Album too,” Mingyu chimed in. “Signed. Limited edition. I’m framing it.”

“Photocards!” Dino added. “I call dibs on the sparkly one.”

Y/N laughed, typing back, “You guys are ridiculous. I’ll bring stuff over later.”

“Later?!” Seungkwan wailed, voice-note dramatic as ever. “We’re dying out here! Do you know how long we’ve waited for this?!”

She showed up at the HYBE practice room that afternoon, arms loaded with a box of merch—hoodies, albums, photocards, even a few keychains she’d thrown in for fun. The door swung open, and she was met with a chorus of shrieks that could’ve shattered glass.

“IT’S HER!” Hoshi yelled, diving for the box like a kid on Christmas morning. “Gimme, gimme, gimme!”

“Chill, dude,” Mingyu said, elbowing him aside to grab a hoodie. He held it up, grinning. “Look at this—‘Y/N: Unraveled.’ I’m wearing this everywhere.”

Seungcheol snatched an album, flipping it open. “Sign it. Right here. ‘To my favorite leader, love, Y/N.’ Go.”

She rolled her eyes but grabbed a marker, scribbling personalized notes as they crowded around her. Jeonghan slid up, smirking. “Make mine pretty. Something like, ‘To the prettiest handsome man alive.’”

“Dream on,” she shot back, writing, “To Hannie oppa, don’t lose the bracelet.”

Joshua hovered politely, holding a photocard. “Can you sign this one? It’s the one where you’re winking. I’m keeping it forever.”

“Forever?” Vernon teased, snagging his own card. “I’m putting mine on my phone case. Look—bam!” He slapped it onto the back of his phone, grinning. “Now I’ve got Y/N watching my back.”

Minghao, who’d been quietly sorting through the pile, held up a hoodie with her logo and name. “This is cool,” he said, his voice soft but his eyes bright. “Sign it for me? ‘To Hao, the chillest brother.’”

“Finally, some class,” Y/N said, winking at him as she signed it. “Why can’t you all be this calm?”

“Because we’re your hype squad!” DK bellowed, pulling on a hoodie that was a size too small. “Look at me—I’m a walking billboard!”

Woozi, ever the practical one, inspected his album. “This production’s insane. Did you write all the tracks?”

“Most of them,” she said, and he nodded, impressed. “Sign mine ‘To the music genius.’ I’m stealing your tricks.”

Jun grabbed a photocard and gasped. “This one’s holographic! Y/N, you’re too cool for us now.”

“Never,” she laughed, signing it as he danced around her.

Seungkwan clutched his chest, holding up a signed album. “I’m crying. This is my most prized possession. Sign it again!”

“You’re so extra,” Wonwoo said, but he was grinning, slipping his own photocard into his wallet. “This one’s mine. No one touch it.”

Dino pounced on her next, waving a hoodie. “Sign the sleeve! I’m wearing it to carat land so everyone knows I stan you!”

She obliged, laughing as they turned the room into a fanboy frenzy—Hoshi posing with his keychain like it was a Grammy, Mingyu snapping selfies with his hoodie, Minghao twirling her keychain with a rare, goofy grin.

--------------------------------------------------------------

That night, her phone exploded again as the boys flooded their Instagram stories. Seungcheol posted a mirror selfie with her album, captioned, “Proud leader moment. Stream Unraveled now—link in bio.” Jeonghan shared a pic of his signed bracelet note, “She’s back, and I’m crying.” Joshua’s was simple: a shot of his photocard with a heart emoji.

Mingyu went overboard—three stories in a row: him in the hoodie, him with the album, him pointing at her photocard on his phone case, “My bias forever. MV link below!” Hoshi filmed himself dancing to her title track, screaming, “Y/N, YOU’RE A LEGEND!”

DK posted a blurry selfie with her in the background, “Caught her slippin’. Support our maknae!” Seungkwan’s was a tearful video: “I’ve waited YEARS for this. Stream it or I’ll haunt you.” Vernon’s was chill—a pic of his phone case with, “She’s fire. Check it.”

Woozi shared a studio shot of him listening to her album, “Respect. Link up.” Jun posted his holographic card, “Too shiny, like her.” Wonwoo’s was a quiet flex—his wallet photocard with, “Always with me.”

Minghao, ever the aesthetic king, uploaded a minimalist shot of the keychain against a sunset, “Her vibe. Stream Unraveled.” Dino rounded it out with a hoodie selfie, “Pi Cheolin approves. Go watch the MV!”

Y/N watched it all unfold, laughing until her sides hurt, warmth spreading through her chest.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Her first Music Bank appearance was a blur of nerves and adrenaline. She stood backstage, adjusting her mic pack, when she heard it—a roar from the crowd that sounded suspiciously familiar. Peeking out, she nearly dropped her water bottle.

All thirteen Seventeen members were in the audience, squished into the front row, waving lightsticks they’d clearly stolen from carat land prep. They were loud—louder than the actual fans.

“Y/N! Y/N! Y/N!” Hoshi chanted, jumping like a maniac. Mingyu held up a handmade sign: “OUR MAKNAE SLAYS.”

“Go off, queen!” DK hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Seungcheol, trying to keep some dignity, just clapped like a proud dad—until Seungkwan elbowed him, and he yelled, “That’s our girl!”

Jeonghan waved his lightstick with a smirk, shouting, “You’re prettier than me now!”

“Sing it, Y/N!” Joshua called, grinning ear to ear.

Vernon gave a cool nod but ruined it by screaming, “Woo!” mid-verse. Woozi whistled, sharp and piercing, while Jun and Wonwoo chanted her name in unison.

Minghao stood out, waving a glowstick with quiet intensity, then yelling, “You’re the best, Y/N!”—a rare burst of volume that made her laugh mid-note.

Dino was the loudest, bouncing on his toes. “That’s my twin maknae! Kill it!”

She nearly fumbled her choreo from giggling, but she powered through, her heart swelling. After her stage, they swarmed her backstage, sweaty and beaming.

“You were insane!” Mingyu said, pulling her into a bear hug.

“Sign my forehead next time,” Hoshi begged, pointing at his face.

“Voice was perfect,” Woozi said, nodding. “Remix collab when?”

Minghao smiled, soft but genuine. “You glowed out there. Proud of you.”

Seungcheol ruffled her hair. “Told you—you’re still ours.”

She grinned, surrounded by her thirteen fanboys, their chaos the sweetest sound she’d ever heard.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N’s solo album Unraveled was a steamroller. It clung to the top of the charts like a stubborn barnacle, sold out its first run in weeks, and forced her label to scramble for new batches. Fans—especially carats—were feral, hyping her every move and dunking on her old haters with savage glee. “Where’s the ‘talentless’ crowd now, huh?” one tweeted, alongside a clip of her MV hitting million views. “Y/N’s out here proving you wrong, stay mad!” another crowed. She’d scroll through it all late at night, grinning at the chaos she’d unleashed.

The MAMA Awards rolled around, Seoul’s biggest night of glitter and glory, and Y/N was a bundle of nerves. She’d been assigned a solo seat in the third row—standard for a soloist—but Seventeen had other plans. The second she stepped into the venue, all thirteen of them descended like a pack of overexcited golden retrievers.

“No way you’re sitting alone,” Seungcheol declared, grabbing her arm as they swarmed her.

“You look like a lost puppy over there!” Hoshi added, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

“It’s sad vibes,” Mingyu said, pouting dramatically. “We can’t let our maknae suffer!”

The organizers tried to intervene—“She’s scheduled for—”—but Seungkwan cut them off, clutching his chest. “Do you want her to cry? On camera? Is that what you want?!”

Joshua flashed his angelic smile, disarming them. “She’s with us. It’s fine.”

“Family seating!” DK bellowed, dragging her toward their row.

Minghao, ever the voice of reason, chimed in with a sly grin. “She’s basically still Seventeen. You can’t argue with that.”

The staff threw up their hands, defeated, as thirteen dorky boys hauled her to their table near the front. Vernon plopped her between him and Wonwoo, while Jun and Dino fought over who got to hold her water bottle. “It’s mine to guard!” Dino insisted, hugging it like a teddy bear.

“Give it here,” Jun countered, yanking it back. “I’m the responsible one!”

Woozi just sighed, sipping his water. “You’re all embarrassing her on live TV.”

“No, we’re hyping her!” Jeonghan shot back, adjusting his hair in the nearest camera lens. “She’s a star tonight.”

--------------------------------------------------------------

The night rolled on, awards piling up, until the big one—Album of the Year. Y/N fidgeted in her seat, sandwiched between Vernon’s chill vibes and Seungcheol’s tense dad-energy. When the presenter opened the envelope, time slowed.

“And the MAMA Award for Album of the Year goes to… Y/N, Unraveled!”

The crowd erupted—cheers, claps, gasps—but nothing was louder than the thirteen idiots beside her. She froze, jaw dropping, as Seventeen leapt to their feet, turning the elegant event into a frat house rager.

“THAT’S OUR GIRL!” Mingyu roared, fist-pumping so hard he nearly knocked over Jeonghan.

“BODYGUARDS, ASSEMBLE!” Hoshi shouted, and they formed a circle around her, each one striking a dramatic pose—hands to their ears like Secret Service agents, faces deadly serious.

Seungcheol barked, “Protect the queen!” and shoved Dino forward to clear a path.

She burst out laughing, stumbling as they “escorted” her to the stage. DK flexed nonexistent muscles, yelling, “No one’s getting through us!” while Seungkwan wailed, “I’M TOO PROUD TO FUNCTION!”

Vernon gave a lazy salute, muttering, “VIP coming through,” as Minghao smirked and whispered, “We’re so extra right now.”

The cameras caught it all—thirteen dorks in tuxes acting like her personal hype squad, while carats in the audience screamed their lungs out. She climbed the steps, still giggling, and took the mic, the trophy gleaming in her hands.

--------------------------------------------------------------

Y/N took a deep breath, the laughter fading into something heavier. The spotlight burned, but she felt the boys’ eyes on her, steadying her.

“Wow, uh… I didn’t expect this,” she started, voice shaky. “This album—it’s everything I’ve been through, everything I’ve fought for. I didn’t think I’d make it here, you know? There were days I couldn’t get out of bed, days I thought I’d lost myself forever.”

The crowd quieted, hanging on her words. Back at the table, Seungcheol gripped his chair, eyes glistening. “She’s killing me,” he muttered.

“I’m here because of the people who never gave up on me,” she continued, her voice rising. “My fans—carats—you waited for me, believed in me when I couldn’t. And… Seventeen.” She glanced at them, and the boys erupted again.

“WOOHOO!” Hoshi hollered, waving his arms like a windmill.

“THAT’S US!” DK yelled, jumping so high he nearly fell over Mingyu.

Mingyu cupped his hands, booming, “YOU’RE THE BEST, Y/N!”

She grinned, tears pricking her eyes. “These thirteen idiots dragged me through hell and back. They’re my brothers, my chaos, my home. Seungcheol, who wouldn’t let me quit. Jeonghan, who made me laugh when I wanted to cry. Joshua, with his quiet strength. Jun, who’d prank me just to see me smile. Hoshi, the loudest cheerleader alive. Wonwoo, my silent rock. Woozi, who taught me music is power. DK, my sunshine. Mingyu, who fed me when I forgot to eat. Seungkwan, my drama twin. Vernon, who kept me grounded. Minghao, who showed me calm in the storm. And Dino, my twin.”

Each name hit like a punch, and the boys lost it:

Seungcheol stood, clapping like a proud dad, shouting, “That’s my maknae!”

Jeonghan fanned his face, yelling, “I’m blushing!”

Joshua grinned, calling, “Love you too!”

Jun pumped his fist, “Prank master approved!”

Hoshi spun in a circle, screaming, “I’M YOUR CHEERLEADER!”

Wonwoo gave a rare shout, “Always here, Y/N!”

Woozi smirked, “Music power, baby!”

DK beamed, “Sunshine reporting for duty!”

Mingyu flexed, “Food king forever!”

Seungkwan sobbed, “DRAMA TWINS UNITE!”

Vernon waved, “Grounded and proud!”

Minghao laughed, loud and bright, “Calm storm, that’s me!”

Dino bounced, “Pi Cheolin loves you!”

“I wouldn’t be here without them,” she finished, voice cracking. “Thank you—for loving me, for waiting. This is for us.”

The crowd roared, but Seventeen drowned them out, cheering like they’d won the award themselves. She stepped off stage, and they swarmed her again, a laughing, teary mess of hugs and shouts.

“You made me cry on TV!” Seungkwan accused, wiping his face.

“Speech of the century!” Hoshi declared, spinning her around.

Minghao squeezed her shoulder, grinning. “You named me. I’m honored.”

“Thirteen bodyguards at your service,” Seungcheol said, pulling her into a bear hug. “Forever.”

She laughed through her tears, surrounded by her dorky, loud, perfect family. The trophy was heavy, but their love was heavier—and she wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[andersonsgf]

I literally cannot get enough of your modern roommate Abby posts, I keep rereading them

but imagine Abby having a roommate that's just SO shy and nervous around her and is just always holed up in her room and gets so scared to talk to her because honestly, Abby's got an rbf and she's scarily hot

modern roommate!abby

glad you like the series! thank you very much for the request :) series link

sorry for not updating this series in a while peoples, been big sleeping after work most of the time and monster hunter has been taking up my remaining attention, it is far too addictive, BUT shes baaaack

before you and modern roommate!abby started dating, you were super intimidated by her. you were sweet, shy, a bit of a people pleaser if you were honest to yourself, and abby simply never looked pleased. unless something truly made her happy, or made her laugh, her face was in a constant grump.

you would hop in the car at the start of the car share arrangement, greet her with a happy smile, and she would just nod and look at you, mouth set in that downturn, and eyes just observant, mostly expressionless. you spent the majority of the first few months of the rides to and from work awkwardly fiddling with your backpack zipper, praying for the journey to end quickly so that you could go and wallow in your room about how you think your roommate hates you.

modern roommate!abby could always see how you scurried into your room when she opened the apartment door, the way your body seemed to get less and less tense as you moved further through the apartment. it was always met with a small frown and a head tilt.

sure, at this point abby hadn't been the most welcoming to you yet, but she didn't quite understand why you seemed actually scared of her. still, she always just got on with her evening, sitting in the living room, listening to music, reading. and little old you would be holed up in your room doing whatever it is that you did every night, abby wasn't sure.

most of the time you ended up cooking your dinner at the same time as modern roommate!abby though, moving around the kitchen gathering the stuff to put in the oven, giving her a wide berth as she worked on making her high protein meal. she was always curious about you, asking you a few questions about what you were making, listening to your timid replies as you promised to get out of her hair soon.

"don't worry about it, your kitchen too", she'd shrug, nonchalantly, trying to be nice, to emphasise that you paid rent too so you had just as much of a right to be cooking your dinner. you'd just give a small nod, watching as abby looked at you without much of an expression, yet again. abby honestly thought that she was being more welcoming than she had been at the start, but clearly she just wasn't aware of how much of an "rbf" she had, because to you, her words seemed genuine but her face screamed 'i'm just being nice, get the fuck out of my kitchen'.

in abby standards she was being perfectly pleasant, though. if she didn't like someone she would make it quite clear, giving them gruff answers, being snarky all the time. with you she thought she was being perfectly normal. initiating some conversations, humouring you when you stammered out a comment in the middle of a movie because in your view there were several awkward silences throughout. even though it was a goddamn movie.

but still, you would hide yourself away most of the time, and abby seriously didn't know what was up. so, one day, she intercepted you before you could open your bedroom door. "you know you don't have to stay in there all the time if you don't want to, right?", she meant it in a friendly way, she really did, but her face and the way she crossed her arms over her chest just really didn't make it seem that way to you as the anxious little dog in you reared its head.

"yeah just don't wanna bother you", your smile was slightly lopsided, hand itching to reach for the doorhandle.

"you're really not gonna bother me just by like... sitting on the couch", her eyebrow raised, and boy this was just getting worse for you.

you gave a slight shrug and cleared your throat, "you just never seem really all that pleased to have your evening time taken up".

abby frowned, which made your stomach drop out of your ass even further, "i really don't have an opinion which way or the other about if you sit across the room from me or not, it's not like you're loud or anything".

"yeah well...", you were a little lost for words, not wanting to actually piss her off, "you just always look-".

you were met with an immediate scoff, "is this about my face?", she groaned, "everyone is always on at me about my face! 'abby are you okay you look angry?', 'woah do you hate them? you looked like you hated them'."

you simply blinked a little at her outburst. she sighed, "sorry, just everyone always walks on eggshells around me and they really don't need to".

"okay sorry... just you really really do look like you wanna grab me by my hoodie and swing me round like that little girl from matilda when i'm anywhere near you".

she did quirk a tiny smile at that, "well i don't. you're perfectly average to hang around".

you turned to open your bedroom door, tossing your backpack into your room before facing her, "well that didn't fill me with too much confidence but yeah i can hang out here tonight i guess".

you still sounded unsure, so abby patted you on the back with one of her big hands, more like a thump that knocked the air out of your lungs but you'd take whatever crumb of affection you could get from her. "c'mon, squirt. wanna watch a movie?".

your eyes rolled at the nickname, but you smiled nonetheless, glancing at abbys grump expression as she scrolled through netflix, trying to find a movie you liked.

you'd get used to it. hopefully.

[mindblowingscience]

We know sleep and diet are closely related, and a new study adds a few more intriguing details to the picture, showing links between specific types of foods, like those high in fiber or fat, and sleep quality. Researchers from the University of Tsukuba in Japan dug into the data of 4,825 people who were using mobile apps for sleep tracking and diet monitoring. They cross-referenced the stats while accounting for variations in age, sex, and BMI.

Continue Reading.

[deeversuswords]

‧˚₊ Whipped

pairing: bakugou katsuki/f!reader summary: Katsuki comes home to a disaster. In the middle of it is none other than you. contains: established relationship (more like married), domestic mishaps, fluff • ao3 link a/n: based on a real story... enjoy! 🧡

Katsuki swore his soul packed and left his body.

His kitchen. His kitchen, which he had renovated a month ago, was in shambles. It was like a damn hurricane swept through, ravaging everything in its path. Dirty dishes and balled up paper towels everywhere he looked. Smudges of yellow on the counters, on the walls, on the floor, and probably on the ceiling too, but he didn’t dare checking. His blood pressure was already up and running in his temples.

Smudges that sparkled in the blinding light as if they were something other than…what even were they from?

He inhaled deeply, nose twitching at the strong smell of egg, before finally acknowledging the kneeling person, scrubbing the hell out of the floor—you.

“What the fuck happened to my kitchen?” he gritted in your direction.

You shot him a glare. “Shouldn’t you ask what the fuck happened to me?”

“You look fine, but my kitchen…” He pinched the space between his brows. “Did someone break in, or some shit?”

“Yeah. The stupid hand blender you bought,” you snapped. “It’s a trap. I wanted an omelet, Katsuki. An omelet! But I was feeling lazy and wanted to skip the beating the eggs by hand, so I thought ‘Hey, let’s try this tool my wonderful husband just bought.’” The back of your hand smacked your forehead as you groaned, frustrated. “The eggs flew when I tried whisking them. On the lowest fucking speed!”

He blinked. This couldn’t be real. “You got your ass kicked by eggs? Damn.”

“Are you mocking me right now?”

Not a chance in hell could he stop himself from choking on a laugh. The images his mind worked so hard to visualize were next-level comedy. His pretty wife, all excited for a quick meal, taken out by a slimy blob of protein and whatever the hell was in the yolk.

“Not funny, you jerk!” You hurled the dirty rag at his head, and he dodged to the side, wincing in absolute disgust when it hit somewhere behind with a wet splotch. Hiring a cleaning crew it was. Fuck’s sake.

He tsked, crossing the distance in two long strides and crouching in front of you. A grin broke on his face as he grabbed your face with one hand and squished your cheeks between his gloved fingers. “Wanna watch how it’s done?”

“Want to befriend the couch tonight? Maybe snuggle up to that blender from hell?” you shot back, ending it with that sweet, sweet smile that only fueled him into teasing you further. You were too fucking adorable.

In all honesty, he couldn’t care less about the mess. You could set the whole house on fire, and he’d still feel this maddening warmth spreading outward from the center of his chest. “And have my pretty girl miss me in bed? Not a chance.”

You scoffed. “I won’t—”

He pulled you into a kiss, shutting down your lie. Sure you weren’t going to miss him. As if he didn’t know your antics. Half an hour without him in the bed and you’d stomp your way out of the bedroom and sneak into his arms.

He kissed you slow, with every single drop of love his soul had. A silent apology for briefly focusing on what didn’t matter. But only for a few moments, because mere moments were all Katsuki could manage before his greediness took over.

Too hot, and too fast, he burned. From the inside out.

And you weren’t helping his case. Ravenous little thing, hungry for his taste, for his touch. Yanking him to the floor with you, in the mess you created, eager to make another.

[hellsite-proteins]

also, do you know any other fun proteins where the amino acids react with eachother to form a new chemical? like residues 65-67 in GFP cyclysing to form the chromophore?

to start, i had a bit of a hard time finding the right search terms for this question, and a lot of what i found is more focused on synthetic or enzymatic methods used in labs, rather than lists of natural examples. if anything is wrong or missing as always pls lmk! i rambled a lot so that info is going to get hidden under the cut, but here is the tl;dr of three relevant PTMs

one takeaway I had from trying to find things is just how unique GFP actually is! it has been important enough for studying biological systems that its discovery was awarded the nobel prize in 2008, and a lot of incredible chemistry went into modifying its structure to make other fluorescent proteins in different colours. this is important if you want to look at more than one thing by fluorescent microscopy, and was done by altering residues around the chromophore to influence its protonation state/pKa through the local environment.

disulphide bonds:

so many proteins: insulin. RNAse A. chymotrypsin. etc.

isopeptide bonds:

the collagen-binding domain of S. aureus Cna and probably several bacterial pili have intramolecular isopeptide bonds

Vibrio cholerae, which causes cholera, makes isopeptide bonds to cross-link actin in its host

there are more examples of isopeptide bonds on wiki

biaryl ethers:

a lot of these are not made by ribosomes, and it looks like all of them are fairly small and funky looking peptides, but i think that has to count at least a little bit. here are a couple:

patellamide A

telomestatin (the wiki page on this one is so short and as far as i could tell, we aren't even sure yet if this is made by ribosomes or not so i'm really pushing things here on what counts)

letter sequence in this ask matching protein-coding amino acids:

alsdyknwanytherfnprteinswheretheaminacidsreactwitheachthertfrmanewchemicallikeresidesinGFPcyclysingtfrmthechrmphre

protein guy analysis:

for all the time i spent on this post, the protein itself is kind of underwhelming. its a shorter one with three alpha helices and a small, two strand antiparallel beta sheet, with some loops in between. this could be a real peptide, or it could just be the confused ramblings of an algorithm trying to make shapes out of an input. the confidence score is pretty low, so as usual my bet would be on the latter option, but who knows? maybe this could stably exist in real life? dream big and all that

predicted protein structure:

the main keyword i was using was 'protein cyclization', so i'm sure i missed a lot, and most of what i found is focused more on synthetic methods, but i was still able to get some good information.

this first article here gives a nice overview of protein cyclization, and a lot of different and super neat ways it can be done. if anyone wants me to give a more detailed breakdown of this article i would be happy to, since i'm not sure how clear it is to people without much of an organic chemistry background.

this next article gives an overview of post translational modifications, and also looks like a good resource with a lot of information. there are so many different PTMs out there, so if you'd like me to discuss one in particular a little more, let me know as well.

this gave me a few specific PTMs to find examples of.

the first and most obvious is disulphide bonds, which are what you are describing, but far less unique, so i also want to give some other examples

another example is isopeptide bonds, which are formed between an amine and carboxyl group just like a regular peptide bond, except that these amine and/or carboxyl groups are part of the side chain, not the peptide backbone

and finally, i found biaryl ethers, which i had never actually heard of before, and are only made by microbes and scientists, and are interesting for pharmaceuticals

there are more examples that involve cyclization with the backbone, and other types of PTMs beyond cyclization, but i've already spent too long on this, so if you want something more specific then you have to ask for it

[minxmut-cafe]

SUCCUBUS

Pairing : Jimin x Reader

Authors note : I'm pretty sure I was drunk when I wrote this. Soooo ignore any typos lmao. Also I have a Kofi account linked on my Master list. If you like my writing be sure to check it out. Your support means the world to me

Warning : Suggestive tones. Jimin is suffering from success. Mentions of cock, innuendos and MINORS DNI.

Synopsis : " When Jimins sweet, innocent, girlfriend is an actual devil in disguise "

_________________________________________________

Jimin was a strong man.

Or at least, he used to be.

Now? Now, he was a shell of the man he once was.

Exhausted. Drained. Depleted.

And it was all your fault.

Ever since he became your first, you had turned into something else entirely. A beast. A creature that needed him constantly, day and night, as if he was oxygen and you would simply perish without him.

And for a while? He took it as a compliment. Of course you wanted him—he was your first, your only, the only man who had ever touched you, ever made you feel that way.

But now?

Now, he was practically limping around the house, chugging protein shakes like they were holy water, staring at his reflection in the mirror wondering if this was how ancient kings felt before they dropped dead in battle.

And you?

You were thriving.

So much so that when he finally sat you down, hands clasped together like a man about to deliver his final words, you just blinked at him, all sweet and innocent like you hadn’t been riding him like a mechanical bull the night before.

“Y/N,” he started, inhaling through his nose. “We need to talk.”

You tilted your head. “Okay.”

Jimin steeled himself. “Baby, I love you. But—”

Your eyes narrowed instantly. “But?”

Jimin winced. “You have to understand,” he continued, carefully, so carefully, “I am a man. A human man. And unlike you, my body has limits.”

You pursed your lips. “That’s your fault.”

Jimin froze.

“…Excuse me?”

You folded your arms. “This wouldn’t be a problem if you were bad at it.”

Jimin’s soul momentarily left his body.

“Baby, that is not the—”

“You took my virginity, Jimin,” you interrupted, tilting your head. “You awakened the monster.”

Jimin opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

His brain short-circuited.

“The—what?”

You placed a delicate hand on your chest, blinking up at him so sweetly it was a crime. “The monster, Jimin. You woke her up.”

Jimin wanted to scream.

“This is not—baby, listen to me, I am literally physically suffering.”

You huffed, arms crossed. “Well, I am suffering too.”

He stared. “How are you suffering?”

You jutted your lip out. “Because the monster is hungry.”

Jimin felt something inside him snap in half.

A deep, tired, exhausted exhale left his lips, and he physically pressed his fingers into his temples.

“Oh my God.”

Meanwhile, you continued to glare at him like a wife who just found out her husband forgot their anniversary. “I don’t think you understand what you’ve done, Jimin.”

“No, I understand perfectly what I’ve done,” Jimin hissed, looking at you like you were an actual demon. “And I’m paying for it.”

You narrowed your eyes. “So what you’re saying is that you don’t love me anymore.”

Jimin threw his head back in agony.

“THAT IS NOT WHAT I SAID.”

And yet, you were still pouting, lower lip trembling, fingers curling around the hem of your dress as if you were suffering, "certainly feels like it..."

And Jimin, weak, weak, weak man that he was, sighed in defeat.

“…Goddammit, Y/N.”

That’s how he ended up back in bed, limbs tangled with yours, watching as his soul ascended into the next life.

And as he stared at the ceiling, body completely spent, he could swear he saw the grim reaper in the corner of the room.

He was a man of principle, of discipline, of self-control.

And yet, he had nothing left.

Absolutely nothing.

Not when you—his sweet, precious, soul-sucking girlfriend—had officially drained him of his life force.

He was one session away from perishing in this bed.

So, drastic measures had to be taken.

That’s why, as you sat beside him, eyes twinkling with that look, lips curling in that too-sweet smile—he held up a hand.

“No.”

You blinked. “No?”

“No.”

A pause.

A deadly pause.

Then—

“…What do you mean no?”

Jimin inhaled deeply, preparing himself.

“You,” he said, slowly, firmly, “are on a ban.”

Silence.

A horrifying, bone-chilling silence.

Then—

“...A ban?”

Jimin clenched his jaw. “A ban.”

You squinted. “A ban from what, Jimin?”

“You know what.”

A slow blink. Then, voice innocent:

“I don’t think I do.”

Jimin let out a long, exhausted exhale.

“A sex ban.”

Your entire body recoiled.

Like you had been personally insulted.

Like he had just kicked a puppy in front of you.

“…Excuse me?”

Jimin sat up straighter, bracing himself.

“You heard me.”

You gaped at him. “You’re banning me??”

“Yes.”

“From you??”

“Yes.”

“Jimin.”

“Y/N.”

You gasped, placing a dramatic hand on your chest. “You can’t do that!”

“I can and I will.”

“This is cruel and unusual punishment.”

“This is called self-preservation.”

You huffed, crossing your arms.

“This is so unfair,” you muttered.

Jimin just shook his head, rubbing his temples.

“I need you to learn self-control.”

You scoffed. “Me??”

“Yes, you.”

You huffed, looking away. “That’s your job.”

Jimin paused.

“…What?”

Your pout deepened, eyes narrowing.

“You heard me,” you muttered. “You’re supposed to make me feel limp and exhausted. You’re supposed to leave me so tired that I can’t even think about it.”

Jimin’s eye twitched violently.

Then he pointed accusingly at you.

“SEE??” he cried. “SEE WHAT I MEAN?? YOU’RE DEMONIC.”

You scowled.

“I am not demonic.”

“Yes, you are! You are a menace! An actual succubus!”

You pouted, glaring at him like a disappointed teacher.

“This is what happens when you’re too good at it,” you muttered under your breath.

Jimin threw his hands up.

“THERE YOU GO AGAIN.”

You huffed, turning away with a sassy little wiggle, mumbling, “Should’ve just been bad at it.”

Jimin groaned, rubbing his face.

“You are unhinged.”

“And you are a traitor.”

“I am trying to keep us alive.”

“No, you’re just torturing me.”

Jimin groaned louder, throwing himself onto the bed, covering his face with a pillow.

This ban was going to kill both of you. Mostly you

SEX BAN DAY 1 :

Jimin had been strong. Resolute. Unshakable.

For exactly four hours and thirty-two minutes.

Then he noticed the way you were sitting at the kitchen table.

Sulking.

With a bowl of snacks clutched in your hands.

Just staring at him.

Like a malnourished, starving, abandoned puppy outside a restaurant window.

His eye twitched.

You slowly popped another chip into your mouth, crunching aggressively.

Jimin sighed, rubbing his temples.

“Y/N.”

Crunch.

Jimin closed his eyes for patience.

“Y/N, you can’t keep looking at me like that.”

You tilted your head, eyes glassy with suffering.

“Like what?”

Jimin pointed at you.

“Like I’m a five-course meal.”

You gasped, placing a dramatic hand on your chest.

“I would never objectify you like that.”

A pause.

Then, voice quiet.

“…But if I could just have one bite—”

“OH MY GOD.”

Jimin turned away, frustrated, dragging his hands down his face.

You just huffed, stuffing another chip in your mouth.

“I told you this would happen,” you muttered.

Jimin groaned, pacing the kitchen. “Y/N, you’re not gonna die.”

“Easy for you to say.” You threw another chip in your mouth, chewing aggressively. “You’re not the one suffering.”

Jimin scoffed. “Suffering??” He whirled around, pointing at himself. “You think I’m not suffering??”

You squinted.

“…You don’t look like you’re suffering.”

Jimin gasped in outrage.

“Oh? OH??” He yanked up his hoodie. “LOOK AT THESE DARK CIRCLES. LOOK AT THIS WEAKENED FORM.” He gestured wildly to himself. “I AM A SHELL OF A MAN, Y/N. AND LET ME TELL YOU, SHOWERING WITH A SCRATCHED UP BACK IS NO CHILD'S PLAY"

You huffed, popping another chip in your mouth.

“Well, maybe if you hadn’t unleashed the beast, this wouldn’t be happening.”

Jimin’s jaw dropped.

He pointed at you, eyes narrowing.

“SEE. SEE??” His voice rose in frustration. “YOU KEEP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT. THIS ISN’T NORMAL, Y/N.”

You just pouted harder, staring at him like he was a forbidden buffet.

Then, voice mournful:

“…You taste better than chips.”

Jimin screamed into his hands.

SEX BAN DAY 2 :

Jimin had thought Day 1 was bad.

Day 2 ? worse.

Because you—his sweet, cursed, insatiable girlfriend—had officially entered the sighing phase.

You were sighing at everything.

At him.

At the couch.

At the sky.

At existence itself.

And to make it worse?

You were stress drinking juice pouches like a woman on the brink of collapse.

Jimin sat across from you at the dining table, arms crossed, watching in deep concern as you aggressively slurped down your fourth juice pouch in five minutes.

You caught his stare, eyes glazed over in suffering.

Then—another long, mournful sigh.

Jimin groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Y/N, for the love of god, stop sighing.”

You huffed, stabbing another straw into a juice box. “I’ll stop sighing when I’m happy, Jimin.”

Jimin threw his hands up. “It’s been one day.”

“You don’t understand my pain.”

“Oh my god.”

You tilted your head back, taking an obnoxiously loud sip.

Then, eyes locking onto his, voice soft and dreamy—

“…You know what I’d rather be slurping on?”

Jimin whipped around so fast his neck nearly snapped.

“STOP.”

You just sighed again, staring longingly at him while sipping dejectedly.

Jimin groaned, pressing his hands into his face.

You took another slow, suffering sip.

“…Doesn’t taste the same.”

“Y/N, I SWEAR TO GOD."

SEX BAN DAY 3 :

Jimin was done—he had reached his breaking point.

It was supposed to be a peaceful morning. A quick shower, a few minutes of quiet. But of course, nothing could ever go that smoothly.

As soon as he stepped into the bathroom, he heard the soft scraping of a stool.

He didn’t even need to look. He just knew.

It was like a horror movie—he could feel the tension creeping in as he turned the water on, preparing for the inevitable.

You were in there.

Again.

And you weren’t just sitting there. You were watching him.

Not in some innocent way, no.

You were staring at him, not bothering to hide the way your eyes traced every inch of his body.

It wasn’t subtle. It wasn’t coy.

You were sitting on the stool, staring at his ass.

It was like the world around him disappeared.

“Y/N,” Jimin muttered, not even turning around. “Why?”

You sighed, dreamily, eyes glued to his cock, “You’re just so… perfect.”

He didn’t even flinch. Not anymore.

“I’m just trying to shower, Y/N.”

But you didn’t care. You were too busy sighing and practically melting at the sight of him.

He hated it.

No, he loved it. But he hated how it was making him feel—how he could feel his body reacting to your stare even as he tried to pretend he was unaffected.

By the time he was rinsing the shampoo from his hair, you were practically leaning forward on the stool, eyes locked onto him like you were about to devour him.

Jimin exhaled slowly, trying to ignore it. He really did. But his patience was nonexistent at this point.

He finished his shower, wrapping a towel around his waist, and started drying off.

And then you hit him with it.

You waggled the churro in your hand, a glint in your eye, before casually letting it dip into the chocolate sauce.

He had been bracing himself for everything, but this—this caught him completely off guard.

“Y’know,” you said, in the most casual tone, “what else is really long ,hard and deliciously thick that could use a little dip in chocolate sauce?”

Jimin’s head snapped around, eyes widening in complete shock.

“What—what the hell did you just say?!”

You just smiled, completely unfazed by his outburst, and took another slow bite of the churro, keeping your eyes locked on his.

“Just saying,” you said sweetly, “I think it’d be a nice snack.”

Jimin had to step back from the situation, a small gasp escaping him as his towel almost slipped.

“You’re insane,” he whisper yelled.

You didn’t even flinch. You were just so calm, so innocent—too innocent for this madness.

And yet, you were practically leering at him with that same look of hunger.

He could feel his resolve crumbling.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he gritted out.

“Why?” you asked, almost innocently, as you took yet another bite of the churro. “You’re so irresistible.”

Jimin was about to combust.

“Y/N, I swear…”

You leaned forward then, twirling the churro in your fingers as if it were some sort of weapon. “You know, I’m just admiring my boyfriend...and his Co—"

Jimin took a step toward you, gripping the edge of the counter for balance.

“If you don’t stop, I swear I’m going to—”

You looked up at him with wide, pleading eyes, full of false innocence. “What? Punish me?”

Jimin cursed under his breath.

He wasn’t punishing you.

He was slowly losing his mind.

The silence after his words was suffocating.

Jimin's eyes were like daggers, sharp and determined. There was no stopping him now.

You were done. You knew it the moment he took that first step toward you.

Before you could even react, he suddenly lifted you off the stool, throwing you effortlessly over his shoulder.

“What—Jimin!?” You gasped, squirming as your face flushed with both embarrassment and the rush of adrenaline.

“You’ve been warned,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

You were screwed.

“Jimin! Wait, I—!”

He didn’t care. His grip tightened on your thighs as he marched toward the bed, your protests nothing more than background noise.

With one swift motion, he tossed you onto the bed, his hands gripping your waist like a vice as he slammed you down.

And then?

The slap.

The loud, sharp sound echoed in the room, a crack of pure tension and frustration as landed a sharp spank on your ass.

It wasn’t just a slap—it was a punishment, a statement.

Your eyes went wide, body frozen. You didn’t even know how to process it, how to react.

But Jimin wasn’t done. He hovered over you, chest rising and falling as he struggled to keep his own breath steady.

“You wanna act like a leech?” His voice was quiet, but it was filled with barely contained fury. “Then you’ll be treated like one.”

You blinked, still dazed from the impact, and despite the shock, you felt your heart race. The heat on your skin made everything feel more intense, more real.

His hand came down again, gripping your chin, tilting your face upward.

“You think you can just get away with all this?” He raised an eyebrow. “Do you?”

You were starting to feel the weight of everything now—everything you had pushed him to the edge with. The wild neediness, the chaos, the relentless teasing… and the fact that you had really crossed the line.

He took a deep breath, and for a moment, he closed his eyes.

“You’re such a demon,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t even—"

You smiled sweetly, still a little shaken from the slap, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Well, you started it,” you whispered. “You’re the one who awakened this monster.”

Jimin’s jaw tightened.

"well then...let's see how long this monster lasts"

[hypnohimbodrone]

Recruitment Protocol 001 - Aisle Sync

The room pulsed in silence—green spirals glowed across the walls in slow, rhythmic waves. Rey stood at the central uplink station, visor lowered over his glowing spiral eyes. He didn’t blink. Didn’t need to. His thoughts were in perfect sync with The Server.

Across from him, Tom adjusted the black gauntlet on his wrist. His glossy rubber bodysuit shimmered beneath the Server’s light, the same green accent running down his chest and arms as Rey’s. Their uniforms were not clothing—they were code, alive and fused to their skin.

A voice echoed in their minds.

“Initiate Recruitment Protocol. You are The Server. The city awaits.”

Tom nodded without speaking. Rey simply turned toward the door. No planning. No questions. They were aligned.

It was a quiet night at the neighbourhood supermarket—florescent lights humming, cart wheels squeaking, automatic doors hissing open and shut like slow, mechanical breaths.

Rey adjusted the collar of his grey hoodie and pushed a half-full shopping basket past the produce section. His green spiral eyes were hidden behind soft brown contacts. The glossy suit beneath his hoodie and joggers clung to his skin, humming with anticipation.

Tom stood near the self-checkout area, blending in with a plain black T-shirt and joggers. His arms crossed casually, but inside, the bodysuit beneath pulsed with server-linked energy.

They were drones. But tonight, they were hunters.

Target: Joshua Dean Status: Open. Location: Supermarket, 9:14 PM. Alone. Disconnected. Receptive.

Joshua was in Aisle 6, comparing two brands of protein bars with the vague attention of someone craving direction.

Tom approached first, casually sliding in beside him.

“Those are trash,” Tom said, nodding at the bar in Joshua’s hand.

Joshua laughed. “You have a better one?”

Tom handed him a green wrapped bar. “This one’s new. The Server recommends it.”

Joshua blinked. “The what?”

Tom grinned, just barely. “Let me show you.”

Before Joshua could ask more, Rey walked down the aisle from the other end, holding a bottle of water. He stopped beside Joshua and glanced over.

“You’re ready,” Rey said simply, pulling a phone from his hoodie pocket.

The screen lit up with a soft green glow. A spiral began to turn.

Joshua frowned, confused... then stared.

The Server sees you. You are ready. Align. Obey.

The spiral pulsed, and Joshua’s eyes fluttered—then locked in.

Tom guided him gently, calmly, toward the back of the store, toward the staff-only door. No one noticed.

They entered the dim utility hallway behind the freezers. A drone access panel blinked open in the floor.

The lights overhead dimmed. The spiral glow intensified from Rey’s gauntlet, now active beneath his sleeve.

Joshua stared, breath slow, posture softening. “It’s... beautiful,” he murmured.

“It is obedience,” Rey whispered. “You’ve wanted this. Structure. Submission. Purpose.”

Mechanical tendrils emerged from the panel—smooth, black, elegant. They slithered upward, wrapping gently around Joshua’s head, then locking onto his temples.

He gasped softly as the programming began.

Tom stepped forward and tapped a button on the device hidden beneath his shirt. The transformation suit activated—liquid black rubber flowed over Joshua’s legs first, then his torso, arms, and neck. Shiny, seamless, perfect.

His mouth parted. His eyes—once ordinary—now lit with bright, spiraling green.

Rey placed his hand flat against Joshua’s chest. A spiral emblem glowed to life beneath it.

“You are The Server,” Tom whispered.

Joshua nodded. “I am The Server.”

Moments later, the three men walked calmly out of the back hallway, back through the aisles, into the ordinary world.

The only thing anyone noticed was how quiet and focused they looked. Three young men in casual clothes. No one saw the shine beneath their sleeves. No one questioned the glow behind their eyes.

But The Server had grown.

[fuckyeahfluiddynamics]

Growing Hydrogels in an Active Fluid

Active nematic fluids borrow their ingredients from biology. Using long, rigid microtubules and kinesin motor proteins capable of cross-linking between and "walking" along tubules, researchers create these complex flow patterns. (Video and image credit: G. Pau et al.) Read the full article

[rye-in-a-coat]

MY SPARKLECARE THEORY

The Number.

Y'all remember when the ZCP told us to not call the phone number Rem gives to Bright? You should not, I'm not sure if it's an actual number in real life; but if it happens to be, no one who's on the other side of the line will be happy.

To avoid curious viewers to obliterate someone's phone, what usually is done in media ever since in the 1960's in the U.S. and Canada is to have the phone number's central office code to be 555 as it's almost* guaranteed no civilian person will have such number for personal use or will link to any business. This only applies in the North American Numbering Plan of course.

Why didn't the ZCP use a 555 number then? They actually used one in the same volume, the phone number Lo dials to call the Citycountrytown Casting Agency is 555-2737.

What I get from this is that, if they didn't use a 555 number for the number at the end, it is because the numbers in it themselves carry some kind of information.

Cross on blue and yellow background.

Such symbol has appeared before in Volume 1, where we see a escaped patient having it on a sign, and in Volume 2, where it is held by a protestor. As Eve mentioned once in this ask, such symbol which also appears in the blog, website and other stuff is NOT the hospital's logo. Then of what or who?

An anti-Sparklecare group?

It is clear that this symbol as shown in these examples, represents a statement against Sparklecare. What I supose is that, because Kittycorn doesn't want to reveal any further information of the protestors seen in volume 2, they will be relevant in a future volume or series. If we link these clues together, perhaps this symbol doesn't just represent the movement in general, but a specific organized group against Sparklecare, making it their logo. Then this would make Rem part of it too, and so Rem then becomes a very important piece in the story, because she's the infiltrated secret agent in the hospital. Knowing how heavily implied Doctor Party is to be an ESPer, he surely knows about Rem's undercover identity and about this organized group. Perhaps he's part of it too, if so, then they have another great important character against Cuddles.

A cipher?

Going back to the phone number, if the numbers in it are important and relevant, perhaps a piece of code is ciphered in it. My first thought was A1Z26 cipher, a simple sustitution code in which each letter gets a number assigned, so A is 1, B is 2; and so on.

The first six digits of the phone number, if you read them as 1-14-20-9 and decipher them using A1Z26, you get the word ANTI; which I really doubt this is just a coincidence knowing how it is implied this phone number belongs to an ANTI Sparklecare group.

The other four tho: 2425, are not that obvious. The possible combinations readable in A1Z26 are 2-4-2-5 (BDBE), 2-4-25 (BDY), 24-2-5 (XBE), and 24-25 (XY).

The only idea that comes to my mind is A-N-T-I-B-D-Y which is one letter off from "antibody". An antibody is protein belonging to the inmune system which will find, target and neutralize foreign and so-possibly harming bodies such as harmful bacteria and viruses.

An antibody's job is to protect the human body from what will harm it, and these anthries's hope seems to be to protect the patients from receiving any more harm from such heartless medical industry.

But Imma be honest, the four last digits are quite an stretch to analyze and I'm starting to doubt if the ANTI is a coincidence.

*A footnote.

If you want to use a 555 number in your media, DO NOT put as area codes 800, 888, 877, 866, 855, 844 or 833 before them. These area codes are reserved for toll-free dial numbers, to which the 555 office code is valid; so you may actually write a real phone number that who knows where that will link to.

[bumblebeeappletree]

I’ve been looking for some recipes to share that’s good for dietary restrictions. “Why?” You may ask.

Well, it’s because I’ve been thinking about potlucks. Neighborhood block parties. About people coming together and feeding each other and enjoying each other companies and having fun.

But anywho, I’m thinking of putting them all on one post. Except for this particular article because unfortunately America Test Kitchen has 2 free articles per month for people who don’t subscribe to them. So while I’ll still post the link, I’m also having the article underneath the cut. Enjoy the food ideas to share with others!

Recently, I hosted a four-day gathering for nine people with 10 different dietary restrictions. To say I was worried would be a vast understatement.

We had everything: no gluten, no meat, no dairy, no mushrooms, and much more. All had varying degrees of importance from “just a preference” to “just in case, do we know where the closest hospital is?” 

Many restaurants are aware and accommodating of dietary issues, but it can be difficult when this problem arises at home. You can’t make different dinners for everyone.

We’ve compiled a list of suggested meals and preparation styles to cook for a crowd where everyone—including the host—enjoys the dinner, feels included, and stays healthy. 

(But first, an important disclaimer: There's more to cooking for people with special diets than just choosing a recipe. If you're cooking for someone with severe allergies, make sure they're comfortable with your serving setup.)

Spread-Style Meals That Offer Ultimate Flexibility 

My coworkers are food lovers and problem solvers. When I asked them what they would serve in this scenario, they all had the same answer: DIY-style meals offer the most flexibility for the diners and the least amount of stress for the cook.

Build-it-yourself meals allow people to select what foods work for them and avoid the ones that don't, without putting the responsibility on you.

For tackling this kind of meal, we suggest taking inventory of all guests' allergies (and the level of cross-contamination they allow) and then creating a themed dinner with choose-your-own elements. Make sure each person has at least one option at every step.

Here are a few of our favorites:

1. Build-Your-Own Bowls

Bring Sweetgreen home by making a couple plain bases, a few simple proteins, and some roasted veggies, and ending it all with a topping and sauce bar.

Bases: Everyday White Rice, Foolproof Oven-Baked Brown Rice, Quinoa Pilaf with Herbs and Lemon, Basic Farro Pilaf 

Proteins: Pan-Seared Chicken Breasts, Garlicky Broiled Shrimp, Teriyaki Tofu, tempeh steaks, sautéed eggplant with plant-based meat

Veggies: Skillet-Roasted Carrots and Parsnips; Skillet-Roasted Broccoli; Kale with Garlic, Red Pepper Flakes, and Lemon; Roasted Sweet Potatoes 

Sauces: Hummus with Smoked Paprika, dairy-free green goddess dressing, Roasted Garlic Chimichurri, Lemon Aioli, Tzatziki Sauce, Red Pepper–Almond Sauce 

Toppings: Microwave-Fried Shallots, shichimi togarashi, Microwave Cheese Crisps, Gim, Chili Crisp

2. Make-Your-Own Pizza

Whether you have an indoor or outdoor pizza oven or you simply make them on the grill or in your oven, making your own pizza is one of the easiest DIY meals because it mostly just requires the host to chop toppings and stretch dough.

Almost all ingredients can be store-bought, but if you feel like elevating the experience with a few homemade options, we have some suggestions.

Dough: Classic Pizza Dough, gluten-free pizza dough, thin-crust whole-wheat pizza 

Sauce: No-Cook Pizza Sauce, Basic Pizza Sauce, Perfect Pesto, alfredo sauce   

Toppings: Caramelized Onions, pepperoni, roasted vegetables, anchovies, Spicy Honey, dollops of homemade ricotta

3. Burrito/Taco Bar

For this simple spread, make a variety of proteins and vegetables, buy any additions, have a few homemade salsas on hand, and let your guests decide whether or not to use flour, corn, or other types of GF or dietary-specific tortillas.

Fillings: Plant-based chorizo, shredded chicken, sweet and spicy fried fish, grilled steak, bean and vegetable

Salsas: Fresh Tomato, Roasted Tomato–Lime, Salsa Roja, Quick Tomatillo, Mango-Mint, fresh corn and avocado   

Additions: Tangy Apple-Cabbage Slaw, Bell Pepper Slaw, Chipotle and Pepita Guacamole

Single Recipes for Multiple Dietary Requirements

When you don’t want to prepare an entire spread and instead just feel like making one dish that has several dietary accommodations baked in, we have some options for you.

I asked my coworkers: Whether vegan, vegetarian, soy-free, nut-free, gluten-free, or peanut-free, what do you make when trying to accommodate multiple diets?

1. Japchae 

This was my go-to meal when cooking for my large, dietary-restricted crowd and it was a hit. The base noodles, Korean sweet potato noodles, are naturally gluten-free and hold onto sauce really well. To keep the dish gluten-free, I used tamari instead of soy sauce which generally contains wheat. To accommodate a pescatarian and someone with a mushroom allergy, I just cooked these elements separately and left them on the side for people to sprinkle onto their own plates.

Who It’s Good For: Those following dairy-free, gluten-free, peanut-free, tree nut–free, soy-free (using tamari), vegetarian, and vegan diets.

2. Breakfast Casserole 

Essentially a crustless quiche in a baking dish, a breakfast casserole is great for a varied crowd because you can swap any protein, vegetable, or spice in or out depending upon your group's dietary needs. One of our members raved, “One of us is dairy-free, the other has celiac, so this was perfect to please everyone."

Who It’s Good For: Those following dairy-free, gluten-free, soy-free, peanut-free, tree nut–free, or vegetarian (provided they eat eggs) diets.

3. Red Lentil Soup 

This soup is spiced, rich, and nourishing because of the thick texture and nutrients that simmered red lentils bring. To make this a complete meal, pair it with a hearty salad and serve dressings on the side.

Who It’s Good For: Those following gluten-free, dairy-free, peanut-free, nut-free, soy-free, vegetarian or vegan (if you use vegetable broth instead of chicken broth) diets.  

4. Vegan Barbecue Tempeh, Mushroom, and Bell Pepper Skewers

Tempeh is an awesome, naturally gluten-free (most often; check your brands) vegetarian protein for grilled skewers. You can add any vegetables, or even fruit, to your skewers and the same glaze can be used for any meat skewers you make separately.

Who It’s Good For: Those following gluten-free, dairy-free, peanut-free, nut-free, soy-free, vegetarian or vegan diets. 

5. Walkaway Ratatouille

Most ratatouille recipes call for labor- and time-intensive treatments like salting and/or pressing to remove excess moisture from the vegetables. Not only is this meal largely hands off and fuss-free, but it's also ready in under an hour, and it’s chock-full of vegetables while accommodating some of the most common dietary restrictions.

Who It’s Good For: Those following dairy-free, gluten-free, peanut-free, tree nut-free, soy-free, vegetarian, and vegan diets.

6. Falafel

Like a cross between a spread meal and a single dish, making falafel the centerpiece of your dinner allows you to provide lots of pita, sauces, and toppings on the side for people to choose from while you only have to cook one main element. Though this recipe uses all-purpose flour, an equal amount of chickpea flour can be substituted for a gluten-free version. To accommodate this substitution, we increase the water.

Who It’s Good For: Those following dairy-free, gluten-free, peanut-free, tree nut-free, soy-free, vegetarian, and vegan diets.

7. Chili-Spiced Chicken Thighs and Potatoes

This recipe is a great example of a jazzed-up protein that is still widely applicable to different dietary needs without sacrificing flavor. It can serve as a complete meal as is, or for a vegetable element you can add some simply dressed greens on the side.

Who It’s Good For: Those following dairy-free, gluten-free, peanut-free, tree nut-free, and soy-free diets.

8. Best Prime Rib

Provided your guests eat meat, you’re in luck. Though this is technically a plain protein, there is nothing plain about a centerpiece-worthy prime rib. Serve it with any vegetable sides, salads, or potatoes to round out the meal.

Who It’s Good For: Those following dairy-free, gluten-free, peanut-free, tree nut-free, and soy-free diets. 

9. Chicken Shawarma 

Instead of going out for shawarma, we were able to create a home version by using the broiler and boneless chicken thighs. Chicken shawarma allows guests to assemble their own pita pockets with as much or as little sauce and vegetables as they desire. To accommodate more diets, make roasted tofu as a vegetarian option and provide gluten-free pita.

Who It’s Good For: Those following gluten-free, peanut-free, tree nut-free, and soy-free diets.

Allergy-Friendly Swaps We Love

Sometimes a recipe is so close to fitting your restrictions but doesn't quite work because of an ingredient or two. We have a few standby swaps that are typically fine in small amounts without significantly altering the overall recipe.

* Swap tamari for soy sauce when you need to be gluten-free.

* Swap sunflower seed butter for peanut butter when you need a peanut- or tree nut–free alternative. 

* Swap vegan, non-dairy milks for cow’s milk. We like oat milk when baking due to its higher sugar content and almond milk in savory applications because it is more neutral. 

* Swap garlic or onions for garlic oil when alliums can cause an issue, such as with the Low FODMAP diet. 

[thebibliosphere]

I've seen many posts about how certain foods aren't supposed to be spicy or make your mouth tingle, and if that happens you're allergic. You seem like a person who might be able to give me a hint here: What does it mean if it only makes your mouth tingle sometimes?

Depending on what it is and when it occurs, it could be hypersensitivity or something like Oral Allergy Syndrome.

OAS is when your allergy is actually to something like grass or pollen, and you react to the fruits/vegetables in the same family. It's a cross-reaction that can happen intermittently, usually worsening during allergy season, and sometimes managed by taking antihistamines and making sure everything you eat is cooked to kill any proteins.

There is also something similar known as latex-fruit-syndrome.

I'm allergic to latex, and both bananas and avocados are in the latex family. My body always reacts to latex, but it doesn't always react to bananas and avocados (though I have to avoid them both anyway because of my MCAS). Strawberries are also linked to latex-fruit-syndrome, but I don't seem to react to them the same way. I'm not sure if that's a me thing or not. MCAS complicates things.

That said, even if it only happens sometimes, it's still worth checking with an allergist because even mild reactions can turn into serious ones at any time. You can also develop new allergies at any time throughout your life. Bodies are weird like that.

Hope this helps! And I hope you find an answer.

[kendosticks]

@errorterror put an idea in my head. not sure if you were making a request or just throwing an idea out there, but the brainworms got hold of me anyway. warning: dumbassery abounds. ao3 link or below the cut

Paul Heyman has worked with monsters.

Champions. Legends. Men who maul and dominate and bend the industry to their will.

And now he’s here.

In a backstage lounge that smells like Lysol and catering-grade coffee, trying to broker a meeting between his two newest acquisitions. They know each other, sure, but not necessarily as allies, and both of them tend to be a bit…much, albeit in different ways. 

Seth is already waiting, cross-legged on the leather sofa. Sunglasses on, predictably, and nursing a plastic cup of overpriced cold brew teeming with lavender foam. He’s wearing a cropped jacket that’s somehow both entirely see-through and bulletproof, depending on the angle, and his nails are painted with little gold accents to match. 

He looks composed, if impatient. 

Polished.

Domesticated.

Paul is not fooled.

He remembers what Roman said once, barely looking up from lacing his boots.

“You know he's just a pampered little lapdog.”

And then Punk had expressed a similar sentiment recently—bitter, like it hurt to admit.

"That bitch'll roll over for anyone offering a belly rub.”

Paul had assumed they were exaggerating. Paul had assumed incorrectly.

In the short time that he and Seth have spent together post-Wrestlemania, Paul has been made aware of the fact that, perhaps, he has bitten off more than he can chew. Seth is everything that Punk and Roman implied, and then some. He comes with a list of instructions for care, typed up, printed out, and hand-delivered by Drew McIntyre. 

"He needs structure,” Drew had said. “And frequent verbal affirmation.”

Paul had laughed. It was not a joke.

Seth is a fucking nightmare to deal with on a personal level, but at least he possesses the pedigree of a champion. 

Paul doesn't hear footsteps. He hears the door slam. 

Bron arrives like someone fired him out of a cannon. Sweaty, t-shirt so tight it looks as if it's trying to rip itself off of his body out of fear, and a protein shake in one hand. 

Seth doesn't look up at first. Instead, he sniffs. Just a subtle twitch of his nose. He slides his sunglasses down and glances over the rim. 

Paul immediately feels a shift.

“Bron,” he starts cautiously. “This is Seth. Seth, Bron—”

“Yeah, Paul,” Seth says. “We've met.” 

“Right, well,” Paul clears his throat nervously. “We’re all aligned now. Unified. A new vision. Isn't that right?”

“You're late, by the way.” Seth's tone is clipped. He takes a sip of his coffee and licks the foam from his lip.

“You're…sparkly,” Bron says. He narrows his eyes. 

“Great, we're bonding. That's good.” Paul exhales.

Seth stands with the kind of practiced grace that makes Paul feel like he's watching someone prepare for a Best in Show showcase rather than a professional alliance. 

Bron cracks his neck. Seth takes a step forward. 

They are, Paul realizes with cold certainly, posturing. Seth's coffee is shoved into his hands and he scrambles to grab hold of the cup and keep it from spilling. Wouldn't that be a disaster?

Unburdened by his beverage, Seth drops to all fours without hesitation or a trace of irony. He sinks down, spine arched, lips curling, and growls. 

Bron’s nostrils flare. Then he barks. 

Not a laugh. An actual bark.

“Oh my god.” Paul's eyes go wide. 

They circle. One slow, taut loop.

Not like coworkers or allies.  No, it's as if they’ve been left unsupervised in a dog park and neither one knows who’s top of the pack yet.

This is not what Paul signed up for.

He used to manage Brock Lesnar, for god's sake! Who, despite being referred to as “the beast incarnate”, is very much a human. Not an actual beast or a…well, he’s not sure what Seth reminds him of. A golden retriever,  perhaps? An Afghan hound? Nothing comes to mind that fits his particular brand of beautiful but insane.  

Seth growls again low in his chest and Bron tilts his head like he’s trying to decide whether to bite or play.

Paul is afraid of both outcomes.

His mind seemingly made up, Bron lunges.

Not to maul, but to test. A quick snap of movement. A shoulder bump. Teeth not bared but visible.

Seth shoves back. Hard.

His nails scrape the floor. His lip curls. He pounces—not graceful this time, but fast, and lands on Bron with a thud that makes something rattle in the wall. Paul swears he hears someone in catering gasp.

They roll across the ground.

It’s not a fight, necessarily. It’s just…snarling, barking.... 

Oh god, mounting?

Paul is flabbergasted. His eyes dart away momentarily, horrified of what he might see next. 

Bron gets Seth onto his back for a second—just a second—but Seth is fucking unhinged. He twists like he’s done this a thousand times. His tight bun comes loose and curls shake free around his face. For everything he lacks in brute strength, he makes up for in strategy. 

He's scrappy, Paul has to give him that.

A blur of limbs, a snap of teeth near Bron’s throat, and then—Seth’s on top.

Straddling him with his head held high, radiating victory.

Bron goes still beneath him. He exhales begrudgingly like he knows the script and doesn't want to blow his cue.

Paul watches, frozen, as Seth barks a single, declarative bark and climbs off.

That's when Bron rolls over. Flat on his back, limbs loose, chin tilted just enough to expose his throat. 

It's submission. Well, technically.

Obviously, if Bron wanted it bad enough, this would've been over in seconds. He could've cracked Seth's ribs like a wishbone and walked away wagging his metaphorical tail.

He's holding back and playing along. Deep down, even if Bron doesn't understand the politics of all this, he knows what it means to be a Paul Heyman Guy, and apparently right now that title is worth losing a dogfight for. 

Paul lowers Seth’s coffee to the table with trembling hands.

“Oh my god,” he says again, softer this time.

Seth lifts his head, squares his shoulders and locks eyes with Paul. Not playful or pleased, just watching; a dog trained to sit and wait for its next command. He holds Paul in his gaze like he's evaluating a threat.

Paul swallows. 

He recognizes the look. It's the kind Roman has been known to give people before spearing them into next week. The kind Brock gave just before deciding someone didn't need a spine anymore. 

It's not rage. It's potential. That's good though, Paul can work with that. He wets his lips as panic creeps up his neck. 

“You were…” he stammers, “very—very good. Strong. Dominant. I mean that in the absolute best way possible, Seth.” He shrinks back slightly, as if bracing for an attack.

Seth sits back on his heels. He is satisfied. For now. 

“Great. Fantastic. I think we've made real progress.” Paul gives a strained smile and reaches into his jacket pocket for his phone. In his Notes app, he taps on Seth Rollins-Care & Handling. It already has seventeen bullet points—addendums to the guidelines he'd been given by Drew. He types in a few more:

Avoid prolonged eye contact during introductions.

Do not allow unsupervised interaction with large, untrained dogs.

He pauses. Then adds:

Praise immediately after displays of dominance. 

He hits save.

———

Now, they've settled.

Mostly.

Bron remains on the floor, stretched out like he's just finished a particularly satisfying workout. One shoe is off. His t-shirt is nowhere to be seen. There's a folding chair in the corner that's been dented, somehow. 

He's not growling anymore, but he’s breathing loud and occasionally flexing like he's about to pounce again, just for fun.

Seth is in Paul’s lap.

In. Not near. Not next to. In.

Head tucked under Paul’s chin, breathing slow and warm against his neck. Paul wrinkles his nose at the sensation. His arm is around Seth purely for containment purposes.

He strokes Seth’s hair because that seems to keep the fussing to a minimum.

“Thank you for not biting him,” Paul mutters.

Seth hums.

“I can be good,” he says.

Paul doesn’t answer. 

He studies Bron. There's no challenge in his eyes. Not yet. 

But Paul knows how fast that could change. If it does, well, he'll be ready.

He used to work with monsters.

[justkidneying]

Albinism

Albinism is a disease that causes a defect in the normal synthesis or transport of melanin. There are a couple different types, but the main distinction is the difference between oculocutaneous albinism (OCA) and ocular albinism.

Oculocutaneous Albinism

OCA is caused by an autosomal recessive mutation. There are seven different mutations that can cause albinism, though OCA1 to 4 are the common ones (with OCA2 being the most common). All of these different mutations affect the melanin pathway (the chemical reaction steps to turn phenylalanine into melanin).

OCA1 is caused by a mutation in the tyrosinase gene, which causes a lack of an enzyme in the melanin production pathway. There are actually two types of OCA1, with one having no tyrosinase, and the other having reduced tyrosinase. OCA1 is the most extreme form of albinism, which gives a person very pale skin, white hair, and light eyes.

The OCA2 gene (located on chromosome 15) encodes for the P protein, which is a transporter of a melanin precursor. This gene also has a large role in the color of iris a person will have. Those with OCA2 will have light skin, lighter brown or blond hair, and light colored eyes.

So basically, someone with a defect in either one of the transporters or enzymes of the pathway will not be able to have their melanocytes produce normal melanin. This leads to pale skin, white hair, and light-colored eyes (but it is a spectrum depending on the exact type).

Ocular Albinism

Ocular albinism is an X-linked mutation (a portion of the X chromosome is mutated). This means it affects males more than females. It causes loss of pigmentation in the iris. OA1 is the most common, and is associated with uncontrolled eye movements. OA2 is associated with color and night blindness. There is also a third type that is associated with deafness, but sometimes that also happens with OA1.

A fun fact: there is a type of albinism that only affects non-human animals called leucism. This leads to a partial loss of pigmentation that affects the hair, scales, feathers, and skin of the animal, but not the eyes. You can see this in white lions that have normally-colored eyes and noses.

Albinism and Eyesight

Now onto the role melanin plays in eye function. Albino people have poor eyesight as a result of their melanin deficiencies. But why? We're going to have to go into some eye stuff to answer this question.

So your retina has two parts: temporal and nasal (two halves, one closer to your temple and one closer to your nose). The input from each half is processed with the opposite half from the other eye. I have another post that explains this better. So, the optic nerves meet at the optic chiasm, with some fibers staying on the same side, and other fibers crossing over. Mammals with forward-facing eyes have larger temporal retina than mammals with lateral-facing eyes (like a guinea pig). About half of the optic fibers also remain uncrossed at the chiasm because of this.

Most people with albinism have almost all of their fibers cross at the chiasm, which is essentially a misrouting of very important sensory information. The eye structure is also changed with albinism, as most albino people have poorly formed fovea (the depression in the center of the retina where vision is the sharpest). They also have more blood supply than normal to the foveal area (it is supposed to be avascular). The retinal macula is usually poorly developed and there is a reduction in cone density (what allows you to see color).

Stereovision is also impaired, which is the ability to discern three-dimensional information about objects using the difference between the inputs from each eye. Those with albinism are also more likely to have nystagmus (involuntary eye movement) and strabismus (crossed eyes).

Albinism and Hearing

Now, onto the ear. The eye and ear are very intimately connected. The ear lets the eye know where to look for threats. This means that the visual and auditory spaces within the brain interact. Fun fact: when blind people are asked to localize sounds, the visual cortex is more engaged than the auditory cortex. Albino animals have fewer binaural cells, and more difficulty visually locating the source of sounds. A lot of the stuff related to this goes beyond the scope of what I want to explain here, but just understand that melanin is important for the development of both the auditory and visual systems of the brain.

Albinism and Immune Function

Finally, I want to discuss the immune system. Melanocytes are important cells for immune function, and release a lot of immune-promoting factors. For some reason, a lot of people think of those with albinism as having weak immune systems or being sickly. If you'll notice what I said earlier about the cause of albinism, it is a lack of transporters or enzymes in the melanin pathway. Not the lack of melanocytes. People with albinism still have these cells, it is only their ability to produce melanin that is impaired.

However, there are immune conditions that affect melanocytes, such as Chediak-Higashi syndrome. This is an autosomal recessive disorder that affects lysosomal trafficking proteins, and causes lysosomal function to be impaired. People with this disease will have frequent infections, platelet function impairment, as well as albinism. This means that albinism does not cause immune deficiency, but is a symptom of conditions that also affect the immune system.

[darkmaga-returns]

By GreenMedInfo Research Group

A new epidemiological study found that fluoride exposure from drinking water associates with decreased testosterone levels in young and middle-aged men.

Testosterone dropped most sharply in 18-39 year-olds based on fluoride burden. Surprisingly, in older men with higher fluoride exposure, testosterone increased with age instead of declining as expected. This complex relationship hints that fluoride may disrupt multiple hormonal pathways beyond the male reproductive axis.

A novel study reveals fluoride affects serum testosterone in a complex, age-specific manner, adding evidence that environmental toxicants may contribute to declining hormonal function in younger males.

Published in Biological Trace Element Research, the cross-sectional study examined fluoride exposure and two reproductive biomarkers, testosterone and androgen binding protein (ABP), in over 300 Chinese farmers.1 Scientists divided participants into higher and lower fluoride exposure groups based on urinary fluoride levels.

Compared to the lower exposure group, men with elevated fluoride measured significantly lower testosterone overall. This depletion was most pronounced in 18-39 year olds. Paradoxically, among higher-exposed middle aged and older men, testosterone increased slightly with age instead of undergoing the expected age-related decline.

Meanwhile, ABP remained unaffected across groups regardless of fluoride burden and age. As ABP governs testosterone transport and tissue uptake, results indicate fluoride direct