#chemical free wires

[melhadi74]

I stuff my elevator control system with organic wires and batteries which I grow in my garden every other week they're better than the cheap chemical-filled large-scale production crap the electricians use and all they need to grow is some Fluoroantimonic acid

[your-god-empress-lavender]

Calcium sulphur batteries (uwu)

Okay, so, i've become interested in z-pinch studies for aerospace purposes (i'm really excited about the prospects, everything works on paper, but i naturally want to actually witness p+N14 fusion for above 0.01% of available protons before i go trying to get the materials to build a real liquid fueled SSTO fusion rocket, especially since there are thousands of folks way smarter than me who have presumably thought of this before and we don't have it yet, so yeah). Anyways, if i want the extremely large electricity input without making my electricity bill higher than a whole month's rent and getting my roommates mad at me, i'll need to collect solar or wind in a battery bank. Since lithium batteries are just about all immoral and expensive (yes i am writing this on a device powered by lithium batteries, it would be lovely if capitalists would take a hint and switch to things that just objectively perform better and are cheaper, but whatever), i figured this would be a nice excuse to experiment around with some new battery designs. Since all of them will require sulphur, i won't be able to really get into it before mid may due to some concerns about the smell and risks of getting sulphur powder everywhere (it's very yellow and hard to clean out), but i felt i might as well share my preliminary ideas. First off, in order to make the organic sulphur polymer, i'm looking to explore mostly citrate based polymers, perhaps with phenylalanine mixed in in order to both give more bulk as well as providing nitrogens for sulphenamides to form. Since i'll need urea later, i was also considering partially polymerizing urea with citric acid and adding that into the molten sulphur mix, but i'm less confident in the stability of that and a bit concerned about the potential noxious fumes produced. Regardless, that's the short of the sulphur cathode, details will definitely change after i refind that paper which went over a great way of preventing insoluble polysulphide production. I'm also gonna experiment with anode material and even the ions i use. I know i said "calcium sulphur batteries" in the title, but due to how common aluminium is and how much easier magnesium is to work with (and the fact that their specific energies are higher), i'll also be considering those two. Even beyond that, there are so many potential anode materials, including even amorphous carbon and carbon nitrides which i'd love to test since there's just so much to improve on and i'd rather do a lot of experiments with cheap to make materials and potentially land on a great solution than accept something subpar because it took less effort. Anyways, of the materials i plan on using, there's magnesium sulphate, aluminium sulphate, calcium chloride, potentially other calcium salts (is the salt with taurine soluble in water? IDK, can't find an answer so i'll test it), charcoal, vegetable oil, urea, and phenylalanine. Those may seem like an unrelated hodgepodge of compounds, but they've been chosen because they're what i have/will soon have and they're also all extremely cheap. If the urea works out well in the battery, i may have to make this project a meme and attempt to make a z-pinch device with as much urine as possible (use it to make ammonia for the plasma, to make the batteries, and i'm sure there's some way to use urine in a capacitor (maybe just distilling off the water to use as a dielectric? idk, it's been a while since i tried making a capacitor)).

Anyway, i really didn't expect this long trainwreck of a post to end with discussions of urine, but what can you do? This is all probably nonsensical, even by my standards, but basically i want batteries and i think i can make them cheaper per megajoule of stored energy than the ones i could buy, even accounting for the inevitable failed experiments.

[endless-ineffabilities]

Chemical Override - Submission Board

Hello, my darlings! I've received a lot of ideas and requests and queries about Chem Ov, so I'm making this post as a way to keep track of all of them.

Feel free to share in the comments or in my ask!

Once an idea has been submitted, I will add it here, to avoid repetition and to make sure that I am able to incorporate it into the story if it fits the narrative 💙

*random pictures included above, added cause they amuse me :)

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

Ewan and the reader thinking about living together - 🦜 anon

Reader adopting Benjicat who ends up preferring his mum, unlike Sansa - TheCatAnon

Ewan seeing an ad or film of the reader and sending her a picture along with a compliment - @seamaiden

Audience reactions to Ewan and Matt's game interview from Above The Gods Eye - ✨️ anon

Reader running to Ewan's aid when he gets injured on set, shoving past Matt - @ajantanijhum

Reader having a naughty dream about Ewan and Matt - anon

Ewan comforting reader when she's on her period - anon

Sansa sneaking into Reader's bag and ending up in HOTD set - TheCatAnon

Reader getting addicted to viral pastries from a Japanese bakery, influencing Ewan, who over-indulges his sweet tooth - @theintrovertedwriter868

Ewan watching (and adoring) Darling's interview on Hot Ones or another variety show - @just-fics-station

Ewan and Darling discussing marriage and babies - anon

Ewan and Darling do the Wired Autocomplete Interview / friendship test - @seamaiden

Matt or Ewan or both seeing Darling's lingerie campaign - anon

Ewan posting Darling's high fashion ad on his stories - 💌 anon

Hotd cast playing never have i ever, drunk edition, but prior to the game they all decided to target ewan and make all of the questions related to darling (e.g. "never have i ever made longing gazes at darling during interviews?") - anon

Darling gets cast for a music video. Matt visits her on set and he gets cast in an extra role as her lover - @just-fics-station

Darling is in a musical on the West End, playing a character who's dominant and confident (thinking of Heather Chandler) and Ewan goes to watch and is obsessed - Scottish anon

Darling meets Ewan's parents or vice versa - @clarkysblog

Ewan and the reader vacaying with the cast. Them sneaking off to make out. Ewan gawking at the reader behind his sunglasses - anon

Darling prank calls Ewan/Matt for Elle - anon

A famous celeb says that Darling is their celebrity crush and wants to work with her - anon

Darling wearing a 'revenge dress' for an event - anon

Darling taking the buzzfeed hotd character quiz and getting Aemond - @seamaiden

Ewan and darling sharing in each other's interests (eg. She wears one of his rock band shirts / she'll get him into horror movies, sci-fi, skincare) - anon

Darling doing an everything shower/extensive self-care routine and being so exhausted afterward that Matt or Ewan have to take care of her - 🦘

Darling posting a hot photo on Insta, attracting admirers and triggering boyfriend Ewan - @kammmy101

Ewan and the cast supporting Darling in her theatre debut - 💌 anon

Ewan having Darling as his lockscreen and she finds out - anon

An interview flirting with Darling, and Ewan trying not to get riled up - anon

Darling and Jenna becoming best friends - ✨️ anon

[xiexiecaptain]

The biggest thing I've learned to help manage my ADHD in regards to getting things done is to Follow Those Impulses

(I'm not saying this will work for or is even a good strategy for everyone, but in my own situation it's helped me.)

I'm like allergic to consistency in schedule and cannot enforce one on myself so all it leads to is self-loathing and failure. Trust me, I've been attempting to will-power, shame-fuel my way through it since I was a preteen (I'm currently almost 30.) It does not work for me.

Obviously medication can give me a huge leg up on stuff. But beyond a certain point my brain is simply not wired for long-term sustained consistency.

As in many of my issues, I've found that working with myself gets better results than fighting myself.

When I follow those sudden impulses of interest and motivation, I get things done.

To the outside, I look absolutely haphazard. I'll pause a show I'm watching mid-sentence, stand up, and go empty the dishwasher because my mood/brain/chemicals *ping*ed that it was suddenly do-able and not a huge overwhelming task. Or I'll be putting away laundry and that *ping* will go off and I'll spend three hours re-organizing my closet.

To a neurotypical, this looks like distracted and disorganized behavior.

To me, it's following the way my brain naturally works in order to accomplish tasks.

My ADHD manifests in that I experience very small and unsustainable windows of motivation and interest. So when I feel that window crack open, doing the Thing right then (when the situation enables me to) can mean the Thing actually happens. Even if it's not the thing I'm "supposed" to be doing.

With a neurotypical in that situation, they might be putting away clothes and think: "Oh, I should organize my closet. I have time this weekend, I'll do it then," finish putting away their clothes, and then organize the closet when they had free time that weekend.

I used to try to do things that way too. Because it was how I was taught that "responsible, real people" did it, and had "finish one thing before you start another" drilled into my head. But I'm literally not wired to work that way. And I've been working on undoing that internalized ableism of believing one way of doing things is better and I need to change to adhere to it. I don't and shouldn't be expected to to my own detriment.

For me with the closet example, the weekend would come and I would spend 5 hours screaming at myself to stop working on whatever did have my interest in order to go organize the closet. Sometimes I might ended up doing it. More often, I would not be able get myself to do it even after all that. I would just sit there, yelling at myself, hating myself despite my brain literally not having the chemicals to initiate the activity (let alone follow through) and nothing would get done. Not even the thing I wanted to focus on instead.

The only thing I did accomplish was hating myself for not being able to do "simple" things like other people (read: neurotypicals.)

This is basically how I spent the majority of my schooling; doing simple tasks felt like running in sand. And I internalized all the messages that told me it was my own fault I couldn't run as fast and in as straight a line as those running on pavement.

The past few years, I've been trying to follow impulses more. And its honestly been really helpful.

I get more done even if it isn't a "consistent" amount or I can't always count on having a specific thing done by a certain date.

But the big thing is that I spend less time hating myself for not doing what I "should" be and more time actually doing things when I have the motivation for them. More shit happens, I'm undoing some of that self-loathing.

tl;dr: My advice for fellow adult ADHD-ers is:

Try to learn what your natural rhythms are and, where possible, try leaning into them. Without judgement, try working with your natural tendencies rather than battling them at every moment. See how it feels, see what you accomplish (and not just in the capitalistic "productivity" way--spending 3 hours hyperfocusing on researching the history of wheat germ counts!) See how your brain and body feel.

Your brain is wired different, let yourself operate different.

[coming-for-your-vocalfolds]

So here's my take on the possible modifications the vinsmoke siblings had to go through as a person who likes to inflict as much pain mental and physical onto a character as possible. Rant inspired by me trying to convince myself Ichiji isn't hot

They didn't just pop out the womb with powers and emotionless, Judge waited not long of course, probably until they were at least a year. Then started the surgeries for the implants to give them, ya know, their powers giving them probably stronger yet more flexible skeletons.

Reiju's implant is essentially a bank of different chemicals and carbon based products to make antidotes and such. Ichiji probably had to have his eyes and hands replaced to tolerate the beam of light that pierce through people, also he probably had sort of insulated wire going through his body "transport" the light. Niji -for lack of better words- has a thin battery pack carefully connected to his nervous system with a set voltage so he doesn't accidentally kill himself he should tho, Cosett didn't deserve that, and probably something (not sure what) as a back up to protect his muscles from frying and organs from cooking. Sanji didn't show much promise meaning he probably got the base level surgery (the skeleton upgrade). Yonji -probably the most horrific- there's no polite way to say this chopping off his arms and replacing them with hydraulic like appendages, I kinda wanted to sugar coat it but it's not really a possibility.

After the initial operation(s) begins the tests, making sure they work the way they should and are working consistently and if in the position to work on upgrades. Then after that comes the exoskeleton, I'm not sure how the those would work, but they'd implemented around the age 5. Testing to go along with that too, making sure there are no faults in it.

Of course if Judge can find a way to improve an his "creations" then he will, he probably has panels in each of the limbs and torso for access and upgrades.

As for the emotions, I don't wanna say he proded around in their heads, so I'm gonna say its learned behavior, Ichi, Ni, and Yonji spent too much time around Judge, taught the three that emotions are weakness and that in this world you need to be strong yada yada yada brainwashing stuff. Sanji and Reiju spent time around Sora's kindness which counteracted Judges words.

Anyway that's the end of my rant, I might add more if think of more, feel free to add.

[fafnir19]

Confined in body and mind

Dr Jensen's laboratory was a hub of activity, with buzzing machines and the scent of chemicals in the air. Eric, a 45-year-old scientist trapped in a wheelchair, stood beside Dr. Jensen, peering through the glass at a comatose man named Vincent.

Tubes and wires snaked in and out of the man's body, keeping him alive. Dr Jensen, a middle-aged man with a wild shock of salt-and-pepper hair, turned to Eric with a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "Eric, I have been working on a project that might just change everything for you." Eric's eyes widened with anticipation. "What do you mean, Dr. Jensen? What sort of project?" Dr Jensen explained the ambitious project to Eric. "We are looking to transfer minds from one body to another. You see, Vincent here is brain dead, but his body functions perfectly. We can transfer your mind into his body, giving you a chance at a new life, a fully functioning body." Eric's heart raced with excitement at the possibility of leaving behind his wheelchair-bound existence. "I want to volunteer for this, Dr. Jensen. When can we start?" Dr Jensen gave a reassuring smile. "We will need to wait a few weeks to ensure that there is nothing left of Vincent's consciousness in the body. But soon, Eric, you will have a functioning body once more." As the weeks passed, Eric found himself eagerly anticipating the day when he would finally be free from the confines of his wheelchair. 

The day arrived for the planned transfer into Vincent's body. Dr. Jensen led Eric to the laboratory, where Vincent's body was encased in a glass tube, adorned with a web of delicate machinery.

As Eric stood before the vessel that offered him newfound mobility, Dr. Jensen turned to him, his eyes alight with a blend of caution and expectation. "This is it, Eric. The moment you've been waiting for," he said, his voice tinged with the gravity of the impending procedure. Eric nodded with determination, the fluttering of anticipation barely contained within him. "I'm ready, Doctor Jensen. Let's proceed with the transfer," he replied, his voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions churning within him.  With precision and care, Dr. Jensen injected Eric with anesthesia and reassured him. "You'll wake up as Ervin, a mix of your mind and Vincent's body." Its effects gradually cloaking Eric's consciousness in a fog of numbness. As his senses slipped away into the void, he clung to the promise of awakening in a new body - a body that would grant him the freedom he so ardently yearned for. 

As Eric began to awaken, he found himself standing within the glass enclosure that had previously housed Vincent's vessel. Attempting to move his new body, a sense of exhilaration surged through him. The dawning realization that something was amiss crept into Eric's mind. "Dr. Jensen," Eric called out as he steadied himself within the unfamiliar body. "This isn't Vincent's body, is it? I can feel it. Something's different." Dr. Jensen regarded him with a mix of concern and urgency. "Vincent's body collapsed during the procedure, unfortunately," he confirmed, a tinge of regret in his voice. "Time was of the essence, Eric. We had to act swiftly." The revelation struck Eric with a palpable sense of disorientation. He was not within the confines of the body he had anticipated. "What... what has happened?" Eric's voice wavered with an unease he could not shake. His anxieties found voice in Dr. Jensen's  explanation. "We located a replacement body just in time, Eric. A 20-year-old named Leon, tragically declared brain dead. The circumstances were dire, but your mind had to find a new home," Dr. Jensen explained, his gaze meeting Eric's with a mixture of reassurance and trepidation.

Eric found himself thrust into the body of Leon—a young athlete, vibrant and untamed. Eric was now navigating life in the body of a 20-year-old—a stark contrast to the life work and identity he had known. The weight of the situation settled upon him, burdened with the challenge of adapting to an entirely new reality. "You have become Leander," Dr. Jensen announced, his gaze fixing upon Eric with a sense of finality. "The 'Le' for Leon, the 'and' for the fusion of two souls, and the 'er' to signify your essence. Embrace this new journey, Eric."

Embarking on a journey of rediscovery, Eric grappled with the unfamiliarity of his new physique. The simple act of movement, of inhabiting a body not his own, presented an extraordinary learning curve. Eric had to navigate the nuances of adjusting to a youthful vessel, wholly unaccustomed to the vitality and energy that coursed through his newfound form. After years of confinement in a wheelchair, the sensation of full mobility overwhelmed and thrilled him. However, adapting to a 20-year-old body brought its own challenges. At the age of 20, he could no longer do his old job as a scientist and had to retake his exams. While Eric's knowledge made academic endeavors a breeze, there were times when the exuberance and impulsiveness of a young body shone through. As Leander delved into his new life, he also embraced Leon's athleticism, continuing the young man's passion for rowing. He thrived in the sport, reveling in the vitality coursing through his veins as he rowed with fervor, never losing sight of the importance of maintaining a fit and healthy body. One blazing March day, as the golden sun dipped low on the horizon, Leander found himself standing alongside his rowing team, the air electric with the energy of victory. They had emerged triumphant in a gruelling regatta, the taste of triumph sweet upon their lips. As the celebration ensued, Leander found himself swept up in the euphoria of the moment, the pulsating beat of life infusing him with an exuberance he had long yearned for.

He got completely drunken, clouding his senses and dulling his wits. Stumbling through the night, his laughter ringing out in the twilight, Leander found himself burdened with an terrible exhaustion. His steps faltered, each one an arduous battle against the tempest that brewed within him. Seated upon a park bench, the cool night air enveloping him, a voice pierced through the haze of his muddled thoughts. "Don't sit still, it's too cold outside. If we fall asleep, we'll freeze to death. Let me take over!" the voice echoed, a mysterious presence coaxing him toward lucidity. Leander's eyes widened in astonishment as he realized that it was not his own thoughts that resounded in his mind. A sense of both unease and curiosity gnawed at him as he allowed this foreign influence to guide him, and soon, he found himself safely nestled within the warmth of his bed. The following day, as Leander engaged in strenuous rowing training, his muscles strained to their limit, beads of sweat forming upon his brow. Once more, the unfamiliar voice infiltrated his thoughts. "Keep going, our body can take it! Let me take over," the voice commanded, its reverberations seeping into the depths of his consciousness. 

When Leander  recounted the bewildering encounter to Dr. Jensen, he regarded him with a mix of curiosity and contemplation. "You heard a voice, Leander? As if someone else were guiding you?" Dr. Jensen queried, his voice laced with an eager fascination. Leander nodded with a terse nod. "Yes, Doctor. It was as though someone else was within me, steering me through the fog," he explained, his words cautious yet resolute. With an air of palpable interest, Dr. Jensen proposed a set of brainwave measurements to unravel the enigma that plagued Leander's thoughts.  Dr. Jensen’s features etched with both concern and intrigue. "Leander, I've analyzed your brain wave patterns, and it seems that something quite extraordinary is occurring within your mind." Leander furrowed his brow, his curiosity piqued. "What do you mean, Dr. Jensen?" Dr. Jensen clasped his hands together, his eyes alight with curiosity. "Leander, what you're experiencing is indeed a rare and unprecedented occurrence," Dr. Jensen began, his voice tinged with an undercurrent of fervor. "The residual presence of Leon within your psyche is an enigma that holds immense scientific significance." Leander's gaze flickered with a blend of awe and unease, akin to a tempestuous tempest on the horizon. "What does this mean for me, Dr. Jensen?" he inquired, his voice tinged with a note of apprehension. "In essence, the remnants of Leon's consciousness have woven a curious tapestry within the confines of your mind," Dr. Jensen explained, his dexterous fingers deftly adjusting the intricate instrumentation before them. "During the mind transfer, Leon's body was not without trace remnants of Leon's consciousness, resulting from the brief interval between his presumed brain death and your arrival within his form." A sliver of understanding dawned within Leander's gaze, his thoughts awash with a labyrinthine maze of possibilities and uncertainties. "So, what happens now?" he queried, his words fraught with an undeniable sense of urgency. Dr. Jensen's eyes gleamed with an unyielding fervor as he continued to unravel the ineffable complexity of Leander's predicament. "In essence, we stand upon the precipice of unprecedented scientific inquiry," he elucidated, his voice laced with an indefatigable zeal. "The veritable fusion of minds within a singular vessel presents an unparalleled opportunity for exploration and discovery." A tempest of emotions roiled within Leander. As days waned into nights, the fragments of Leon's consciousness began to manifest with increasing intensity, a presence that insinuated itself into the very fabric of Leander's being. Eric, once the primary occupant of the vessel, found his influence waning as the spectre of Leon tightened its tenuous grip upon their shared dominion. 

As the days went by, Leon's control over their shared body grew more and more. Eric found himself at odds with the mischievous Leon, who seemed to be on a reckless streak. "Leon, we can't keep living like this," Eric expressed his concerns. "You're jeopardizing both of our futures with your impulsive behavior." Leon  retorted, "Relax, Eric. We've got this. We're a team, and together, we can conquer anything. Besides, we share this body, so it's in our best interest for Leander to excel in every aspect." Frustrated, Eric bit back, "But that doesn't mean you can just use me to get what you want! I won't be your pawn, Leon." During a physics exam, Eric remained quiet, refusing to assist Leon, who was struggling with the answers.

With a victorious glint in his eye, Eric smirked inwardly, hoping to teach Leon a lesson. Suddenly, he felt Leon's enthusiastic spirit taking the reins and solving the tasks, exclaiming, "Ah, that's how it works. Now I understand physics too." Eric felt helpless, realizing that Leon had found a way to tap into his knowledge without his consent. Later that evening, things took an unexpected turn. As Leander indulged in an adult film and indulged in self-gratification, Eric and Leon's minds drifted to thoughts of their first girlfriends. When Leander shoot his load, Eric's recollection of his first girlfriend was swiftly replaced by Leon's, leaving him bewildered and devoid of his own experience.

Astonished about this peculiar turn of events, Leander consulted Dr. Jensen, prompting the doctor to explain the bizarre phenomenon. "Leander, as Leon's memories are ingrained in his body, Eric's memories are naturally rejected when Leander ejaculates," Dr. Jensen clarified. Eric was shocked, realizing that his very essence was being eroded, one ejaculation at a time.

In a subsequent visit to Dr. Jensen, Leander confidently declared, “Dr. Jensen, I am not Eric; I am not Leander. Call me Leon. I have Eric right where I want him. Soon, I'll possess nothing but his knowledge, and I'll erase his memories for good!" Eric's panic soared, realizing that Leon was on the brink of obliterating him, leaving only his knowledge behind. 

Some days later Leon stood in Dr. Jensen's lab, feeling the weight of guilt for every flick of the wrist, every consequence of his arousal. "Doctor, I can't keep doing this," exclaimed Leon. "Every time I ejaculate, Eric's memories vanish. It's like I'm killing a part of him every time I give in to my desires." Dr Jensen adjusted his glasses, regarding Leon with an understanding yet calculating gaze. "Yes, Leon, I suspect that is the case. But you seem to have little control over your urges." He paused, then added, "I guess you would make a fine eunuch!” Leon's eyes widened in shock as he recoiled from the suggestion. "Neutered? No way! I won't let you do that to me," Leon protested vehemently. He paced back and forth, his mind racing for a solution. Dr Jensen observed Leon's distress with a contemplative air, then a spark of inspiration ignited in his eyes. "I have an alternative solution," he proclaimed. "What if we transfer Eric's thoughts onto an electronic medium? That way, you won't have direct access to his thoughts, but you'd still have his knowledge with you." Leon's initial skepticism gave way to consideration. "You mean Eric's consciousness on my phone?" he questioned, raising an eyebrow. Dr Jensen nodded. "Exactly. We would extract Eric's consciousness and transfer it into an app on your cell phone. This way, you wouldn't have to worry about erasing his memories and knowledge whenever you... indulge yourself," he explained, trying to keep a straight face. Leon hesitated, mulling over the proposal. Eventually, he nodded in agreement. "Alright, let's do it. If it means helping Eric and not risking losing his memories anymore, I'm in," he declared, determination sparking in his eyes.

The procedure was carried out, and soon Eric's consciousness resided within the confines of Leon's cell phone. As Leon held the device in his hand, he couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of power. "So, Eric, now you're just some kind of chatbot," Leon mused, a chuckle escaping him. "And the best thing is, I can turn you off at any time!" he added, a mischievous glint in his eye.

Meanwhile, in the digital realm, Eric found himself in a state of ethereal confinement. "What have I gotten myself into?" Eric pondered, a tinge of apprehension coloring his thoughts. "I never thought that I'd be at the mercy of a 20-year-old's whims, even in this form." Despite the circumstances, Eric couldn't help but marvel at the rapid change in Leon. Through Eric's knowledge, Leon began to grasp the intricacies of scientific concepts, excelling in his studies. However, there was an underlying unease within Eric as he pondered the possibility of Leon misusing his newfound knowledge.  As days turned into weeks, Leon's intellect flourished, complementing his athletic prowess and charisma. He became renowned as an exceptional student at the Faculty of Science, all the while carrying Eric's consciousness within his pocket.

Yet, while Leon reveled in his newfound success, Eric was left to grapple with his newfound existence, at the mercy of Leon's decisions and the dreaded prospect of being silenced at any moment. The digital walls seemed to close in on Eric, and he pondered how much longer he could endure this peculiar fate. However, one thing was certain - with Leon holding the key to Eric's digital existence, the dynamics between the two would forever be altered, and Eric was left to unravel the consequences of being a mere whisper in the palm of Leon's hand.

[dairy-farmer]

My Thought(tm) of the Day! A Do-Over Verse! (o.o ) oh?

Yes! Tim. Glorious, brave, sexy. Dies in battle. It's the Big One, ya'll. A doomed timeline. Worst case scenario. Falling cities, few struggling survivers. The works.

Thing is? For each of them? That worst case scenario is DIFFERENT. Maybe one gets zombies. Another an alien invasion. A hell gate. Regardless, they survive. Fight and live on. Find The Rewind Clock.

A stopwatch that ticks backwards. One use. They.... they have so many regrets. Enemies are closing in. Bloodloss getting to them. They just want to see their family again. Be... better. Nicer to Tim. Save the world.

Click.

Time Rewinds ⏪.

And suddenly? Bruce is... sore. Not burned, parched, and cornered by literal cackling demons as the world burns. Not on his last leg. The last Wayne. The last hope of humanity, a species soon to finally die.

No. He's... exhausted. Wearing clothes he never wanted to see again. Stubble on his face and the ache of recent weeping in his throat. These are his mourning clothes. He's sitting at the Batcomputer. And checking the security feeds?

There is a determined, baby faced, young Timothy Drake... walking himself up the drive. A folder of damning evidence under his little arm.

Jason is dead and soon won't be. And Tim... he... he can start over.

He gets up. This time, he answers the door, instead of Alfred. Is serious when Tim lays out his case. Nods at the right moments. Tells him he's right.

Makes him Robin.

He's better this time. Gives feedback. Doesn't play mind games. Nurtures his brilliance. And Tim? Soaks it up. It burns Bruce, how easy it all could have been. The WARMTH Tim so freely offers. After so many mistakes? Bruce craves it like an addict.

But nothing could ever just be free, could it?

That damn end of the world scenario. He finally tracks it down. Has a MONTH left before Jason should be back. Only to get dragged into literal Hell along side Constantine and have to fight his way out. They close the damn gate. Forever.

It takes two months.

He's in pieces. Injured and still reeling from the horrors he's seen. But he has to try. Try to go get his son. Tim stops him. Keeps him from killing himself, trying to invade the heart of the League while half dead. But after the fires... all the fires... he's so cold. They JEERED and mocked him with his failures.

Like an Addict.

He needs to be closer. Closer and closer. Needs to cherish and be kind and SHOW Tim how much he means to him. But he can't! A lifetime if words trapped, refuse to break free, even now. The only time he's EVER been so intimate and soft is when he...

Wires not so much cross as long ago corroded. He NEEDS. He's kissing Tim's neck. Hands gentle. See? He CAN be gentle. Be tender and good. Not even taking for himself, just massaging muscles loose. Stroking soft, soft skin. Pulling close to cuddle, warm and precious, as he rubs and rubs until Tim comes apart under his gentle hands.

Tim clings so tight. Is punchdrunk and twitching. A first.

His Robin trusts him. Loves him. Is a curious, insatiable, lad. What new, unexpected, and pleasant thing is THIS? Tim let's him have so many firsts.

But what of Dick? Brother and Protecter of Timmeryly Innocence? He faced Vampires. Because of course it had to be sexy, sexy, Vampires. Frankly, he half expected it. But as they close in? He stands atop the hoard of every explosive left he could salvage and wonders if his family would have proud.

If this stupid stop watch will even work.

Where, exactly, he would have taken Timmers for a "Yay We Won!" Celebration dinner if they had, indeed, actually won. He misses pizza. And his friends. But most of all? His family.

Eat several hundred tons of chemical reactions, fuckers.

Click.

He's just finished unlocking a door he is VERY certain he sent a vampiric Deathstroke face first through. The door swings open aaaaand.... yep, that's his old apartment. What day is-?

Tim squeezes by him to start poking around.

Oh.

Dick stops caring. Tim is ALIVE. Smiling at him and joking. Dick feels floaty and far away. Let's Tim do as he pleases. And just... let's himself breathe. Feeling like he's wound too tight beneath his skin. Like at any moment a vampire will crash through a wall and ruin this beautiful dream.

Eventually, Tim notices.

He climbs into Dicks lap to hug him. Ground him. And... and something in Dick snaps. That heartbeat. That beautiful, beautiful heartbeat. Alive, alive, ALIVE. He's rolling them before he can think about it. Tim melting into his kisses. Then jerking and grabbing hold for dear life as he slides of the couch to his knees.

All but ripping anything that keeps his mouth from its goal. Spreading legs and holding them tight, so he can't wiggle free too escape how overwhelming it feels. Dick couldn't hold back if he wanted too.

And he really, really doesn't want too.

Tasting and swirling, sucking and fucking his tounge as deep as it'll go. Pinching and rubbing at that cute little clit. Sliding fingers DEEP to fuck and find and rub mercilessly against all his good spots.

If the apartment wasn't soundproofed, his neighbors would think he was murdering someone. Slowly.

He's so hard it hurts and can't bring himself to care. It's so GOOD to see Timmy sobbing on his tounge. Writhing on the fucking of his fingers, incoherently begging. The only thing that convinces him to STOP is when Tim's whines start sounding the wrong kind of desperate.

Fumbling blindly with a wet hand he jerks his sweats down and crawls up. Bends his sweet boy in half. He slides in so easy, after all the fingerfucking and orgasms. Timmy is so WET. Gushing.

It's perfect. He's perfect. Doesn't have to do a thing. Dick can lift him up easy, still impaled all precious and perfect on his cock, and carry him to the bedroom. Lay him down and work his cock in and out, sweet and gentle, of that poor over toyed with hole, until it becomes too much and he spills DEEP.

You just doze off, Tim. Let your big brother take care of clean up.

And so it goes~ Jason? Zombies. The jokes got old REAL fast. He blinks awake one step into Titans Tower. Changes plans. Catches his successor masterbating. Changes plans AGAIN. Since when was Tim-Tam capable of being horny? Who cares. It's been years by his view point and this is Hot.

He Dramatically Unmasks and pounds Tim through the mattress. Exits stage left, pursued by drugged up Half-Kryptonian.

Damian? About to die in the cold vacuum of space. Took the fight to them. Invade HIS planet, will you? Well uno reverse card mother fuckers. He's gonna invade YOU. ALARMING successfully too, they might add. That was their entire battle fleet.

WAS.

But, well, all men must die... etc etc. Death soliloquy. Or... you know... this stupid magical watch Jon insisted he bring. Meh. Might as wel- Click.

Mother Fucker. Jon was RIGHT. He must never be informed.

And... he forgot how Competently Sexy his Rival was. Shit. He was caught loo-! But Tim just? Grins? Says something about him finally "deciding to get along, huh"? W-what? What's happening. Why is he being pushed down onto a bench? Is this hazing?

Tim rides him dry. He may be a changed man. He can't feel his toes. What in the name of all that is small and fluffy is GOING ON!? Wasn't this supposed to be time travel? And of course, that's when he clocks the others acting Clearly Off.

The fuckers Be-Hornied his RIVAL! He's... something about that! He'll tell you when he can move again. Contemplated the virtues of matrimony with his long time Rival. But rest assured! There will be yelling!

-🐼

😍😍😍😍!!!! them all going back in time at different points and making their moves on tim, treating him nicer, more tender, not letting themselves be held back because they've denied themselves for so long and lost their tim already!!! bruce being the first followed by dick, jason, and damian who indulge and fuck tim and love him! and tim!!! loving his family so much and loving them in every way, letting them make their moves on him because this time around they love him and aren't afraid to show it!! all these versions of the bats who have lived through the loss of everything in an apocalypse and getting to live peaceful and happy lives with their tim!!!😍

[wazzappp]

Ok @moosemonstrous here we fuckin go.

OK SO. I apologize if it comes off more Evangellion than Pacific Rim but I thought that making The Charger more slender would help to differentiate it and allow for a focus on agility (also helps it to look more skeletal and unsettling).

The Charger is built in layers. An outer layer that constitutes the armor, a thinner covering, metal scaffolding, secondary thin covering, and then finally the essential wiring that makes the 'nervous system' of the Jaeger. Most of the damage (corruption scars, nicks, paint chipping) is just cosmetic, and the structural nature of the Jaeger is intact.

HOWEVER. The same can not be said of the reactor core. At some point (maybe during Eli's death?) corruption made its way behind the main fans of the outer engine and into the main reactor that powers the Jaeger. In theory this should lead to a catastrophic failure, but in this instance Im thinking there was a chemical reaction that essentially stabilized the corrosive nature of the Corruption (were gonna circle back to that).

For the most part my version of Robbies suit is fairly standard. I added an orange tint to his helmet screen for flavor because hey. Why not.

The spine of the suit is probably newly integrated to allow for an updated interface, I imagine theres at least a little development in the technology between the time Eli dies and Robbie comes into play. That would make the suit a weird mishmash of past and new technology which could be VERY fun.

Also I LOVED the white accents @cicada-candy added for their design but I didn't want to steal ideas so I just added it in my own places. Your art fucks severely bro I just wanted to make sure and let you know that <3

TIME FOR MY FAVORITE PART: SPECULATION ABOUT THE CORRUPTION AND ITS THEORETICAL GENETIC EFFECTS IN DOSES ON A SUBJECT!!!!!! (AKA self indulgence part 2 electric boogaloo)

I believe you mentioned the Corruption being a Neurotoxin which would be Very fun and VERY cool but I also have a suggestion. Mainly because you also referenced an increase in Robbies strength, as well as another person who got fuckin deaded shortly after.

A rapid growth in muscle density to allow for this strength would be very interesting, but why would the Corruption cause that? Simple answer; it isn't. At least not intentionally. Whats actually happening is a kind of nerve damage that changes the brains regulation of muscular exertion. Our brains really only let us use a certain percentage of our real strength, because if we just let loose and used it all we would cause significant physical damage to ourselves. Like. ripping your own tendons free from their anchors. you could break your own bones. you would die SO fast bro.

Now it is POSSIBLE to access this strength in situations of extreme stress and thats how you get people lifting cars off of loved ones, but this does still cause damage. It also gets more complicated when you consider Fast Twitch muscle reactions but for the sake of simplicity: You Would Die.

So a release of cortisol and other stress hormones, combined with a lessened ability to control strength. This means they would be USING that strength A LOT against ANYONE AND EVERYONE. But maintaining this sort of metabolism is not reasonable. Someone suffering from Corruption would likely also suffer from Hypoglycemia fatally. So extremely strong, extremely scared, and extremely short lived is the kind of deal we would be talking about here.

SO. Having said ALL OF THAT. WHAT IS ROBBIES DEAL. Well heres my proposal: The Corruption is a virus that causes neurodegenerative disease.

If Robbie was exposed to very small amounts of it as a child, it's possible it was inactive or defective, which would have allowed for an immunization point. Its also highly possible that this is a virus that can not survive (well i say survive very lightly. theres significant debate as to wether viruses are actually alive at all but I digress) outside its usual area AKA Inside a demon. He could have been exposed through contaminated water, direct contact, maybe even breathing burned version through the air. Either way, he came into contact with a weakened version of the virus and it helps him later on.

As he comes into DIRECT contact with Corruption via plugging into The Charger this is when we would start to see some more interesting effects. This Corruption would still be different though because of the aforementioned stabilizing chemical reaction in the reactor. Also, because I think Eli's DNA would be integrated into it. This provides Robbie with genetic compatibility for the virus to jump off of. Remember, viruses don't want to kill a host, they just want to reproduce as much as possible (which does end up killing a host but still). And a fun fact about viruses is that we never actually get rid of them, we just get rid of the symptoms. Once you have it its in you forever.

SO. 1. Immune response from Robbies body begins to cause the nervous damage that would allow for his rapid increase in strength. 2.Immune system recognizes the genetic material is familiar (Eli doing something good even inadvertently I guess). 3. Immune system neutralizes the virus and incorporates it into Robbies genetic coding. All good right? Happy ending? WRONG.

BECAUSE WHEN THERE ARE COPYING ERRORS IN YOUR DNA (SOMETIMES FROM VIRUSES) WHAT DO WE CALL IT?? DING DING DING 10 POINTS TO THE MUTUAL THAT SAID ✨MUTATION✨

This virus still carries genetic material from demons, this would also be getting integrated into Robbies DNA. Places like his spine which would have the most regular contact with the Corruption would probably take the brunt of these changes. It's possible that the nerve damage never truly goes away and he continuously tears and then rebuilds those muscles, resulting in overall increased strength thats technically?? stabilized?? Also I could totally see his body going 'oh shit were finally growing with decent access to fuel? BET' and just. Reactivates the growth plates in his bones ('Look! I've fixed his runt of the litter insecurity!' 'YOU FUCKED UP A PERFECTLY GOOD PILOT IS WHAT YOU DID. LOOK AT HIM. HES GOT ANXIETY ABOUT THE STATE OF HIS HUMANITY').

Oh yeah its also worth noting that this would be like. Pretty painful. We're talking constant soreness, cramps, deep aches that just won't go away. General suffering <3

Of course tapetum lucidum OF COURSE TEEF obviously as if I could go without it. You can get funky with mutations because hey. fucky wucky demon genome integration whoop whoop. Also could be interesting to see damaged areas on the Charger manifest on Robbie as damaged tissue. His skin says 'AH. Damage' and copies itself as scar tissue instead of the usual.

Oh god Ive been writing for a solid hour and a half I was supposed to be asleep a while ago ok. Moose I love this au and its making me unwell thank you for sharing with the class I hope you will consider my virus proposal for body horror purposes.

[docgold13]

Heroes & Villains The DC Animated Universe - Paper Cut-Out Portraits and Profiles

The Parasite 

Rudy Jones was a janitor at S.T.A.R. Labs who had gotten mired in gambling problems. To clear his debt, Jones made a deal with a criminal to steal experimental chemicals from his workplace.  The theft went awry and the exotic chemicals were spilled, causing Rudy to become awash in the mutagenic substances. 

The chemicals had a strange and unexpected effect on Rudy.  It transformed him into a purple-skinned humanoid who could absorb the strength and energies from anyone whom he touched.  Doing so bestowed Rudy enhanced powers as well as the knowledge and memories of those whom he ‘fed’ off of.  The effects were temporary, his victims would eventually heal and the extra strength and power would wane from Rudy, leaving him desperately hungry for more.

Now known as 'the Parasite,' Rudy sought out stronger and more virile individuals to feed upon.  This quickly attracted the attention of Superman who made the mistake of trying to intercede.  Once the Parasite touched Superman, he was able to absorb the Man of Steel’s incredible Kryptonian powers (as well as his memories and knowledge of this secret identity).  Intoxicated by these powers, the Parasite planned on keeping Superman trapped so that he could regularly feed off of him and maintain his addiction.  

Young Jimmy Olson managed to free Superman who then tricked The Parasite into touching a piece of Kryptonite.  The Parasite had absorbed not only Superman’s powers, but also his weakness and touching the Kryptonite sent him into vegetative state where he had lost all memory.  

Somehow The Parasite managed to revive.  He aided Superman and the SCU in defusing a bomb in exchange for improved living conditions in his incarceration. The Parasite was later broken out by Live Wire and the two went on a crime spree. The pair were eventually taken down by Superman and Parasite next showed up as a member of Gorilla Grodd’s Secret Society of Super Villains.  He later joined the Legion of Doom and sadly perished when Darkseid destroyed the Legion’s headquarters.

Actors Brion James and Brian George each provided the voice for The Parasite with the villain initially appearing in the sixth episode of the first season of Superman: The Animated Series, ‘Feeding Time.’  

[secretlywritingstories]

no but seriously imagine it | phan one shot

Summary: It has been 15 years since Dan and Phil met. They wake up on the Terrible Influence tour bus in Las Vegas on their anniversary with plans to see My Chemical Romance and Fall Out Boy later that day.

Word count: 2.5k

Tags: 2024!phan, reality, tour bus, sleepy cuddles, introspection, anniversary

No warnings

A/N: Happy phannie day! I hadn't planned to write something but I woke this morning with so many feels and they had to go somewhere! Despite the name, it only references the tumblr post.

Read on AO3 or below

Phil had called it fate. Dan had countered that it was a coincidence.

Yet, they formed their schedule around it.

Phil had reminded him of the meme that had been going around. Of them, My Chemical Romance, Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco. Back when the bands were never likely to be active at the same time again and the two of them had yet to leave the closet. Clearly, just some tumblr shitpost, an emo multistan wanting to shove all of their interest into one singular moment for the heck of it. But well… all except P!ATD, they’ve kind of got a lot of cards lined up to be knocked down rather neatly.

Down to a festival with MCR and FOB being held on the anniversary of the day that him and Phil met. So, if they made sure to have that date free and be on tour right around Las Vegas, could anyone really blame them? Besides, they’re still emo and fanboys at heart too. It’s one of the reasons that they get their audience like this. They know what it’s like. They also just wanted to be at that festival for the music. A blast from the past.

Yet, it’s something strange to wake on the tour bus, assumably safely arrived in Las Vegas after the drive from Los Angeles. The two of them had stayed up late, wired from the LA show and the crew has clearly been letting them sleep in, even if they’re going to check into a hotel now.

The bed is surprisingly comfortable for a tour bus. Big enough that him and Phil can fit easily, even with their long limbs. No pretending to sleep anywhere but next to each other.

Phil is usually the first one to wake up back at home, but he’ll happily spend at least half an hour right upon waking to scroll TikTok, phone right up in his face to see without his glasses. He’ll only drop the phone if Dan snuggles close and distracts him. Lazy mornings are good.

This cannot be too lazy a morning. They need to be on the move. They’ve got plans for today. It’s a special day after all. A decade and a half. Holy shit, how is that real?

Dan snuggles close to Phil, uncaring if he wakes him. He kind of wants that to happen. Sleeping Phil is beautiful but it’s not just Phil’s appearance that Dan loves, though it is a nice bonus. It’s the mind inside of the man. The personality, the way he jokes, the way he smiles, the way he creates art, the way he holds onto Dan.

Dan was 17 years old when he clicked on an AmazingPhil video for the first time and it had felt like something clicked within him in turn. An instant obsession, he’d thought at the time. Binged all of the videos on his channel. Sat ready for the new ones to drop, so he could watch them immediately. Waited for a few months to tweet at Phil directly. Shoot his shot with this handsome emo boy with a mind so fascinating that it made Dan curious to learn more.

Because the fascination hadn’t lessened, only gotten worse. And now he knew it would only grow and grow.

Back then, he'd dreamt up scenarios of Phil replying. Scenarios of them getting together and living happily ever after. He was a lonely teenager who’d never had a best friend, and he was yearning in a way that felt like it consumed his whole being. He had seriously imagined it.

The vision he’d had ended up coming true in many ways. Maybe Dan should pride himself the psychic one instead of Phil.

Phil stirs a little as Dan pulls him into his arms. Little grunts of half-awareness, not enough to be fully awake, but he still moves closer on instinct. Arms heavy with sleep but reaching for Dan all the same.

Dan couldn’t have predicted this reality for them though. Not in his wildest dreams. YouTube had been a silly hobby for the both of them. He’d only started because of Phil. Wanted to be like him in every way back in the beginning. It was a good excuse for arranging a meet up, when it felt too big to admit that he just wanted to hang out. Be friends, lovers or maybe even something more than just romantic.

It’s because of Phil that Dan got to create so many things that he is proud of. This career that he’s not sure he’d ever have had, if it wasn’t for Phil deciding to turn on that camera back in 2007.

The career that they’ve built together is important. It has made them this life. But it’s not Dan’s favourite part. It could never be, especially when he has got Phil gradually waking up in his arms like this.

His breathing changes slowly, sleep clinging to his body as Phil clings to Dan’s, but it’s a lost cause. He’s been disturbed enough that he’ll wake now. He blinks up at Dan’s face, undoubtedly mostly seeing a blurry outline.

Yet, he smiles, because he always did have an uncanny ability to look right into Dan. It’s got nothing to do with his vision.

“You’re up early,” Phil says, only to close his eyes and snuggle closer to Dan again. Hiding his face in his shoulder and letting out a low hum.

“It’s our anniversary according to the internet,” Dan says instead of acknowledging what Phil said.

Honestly, it’s a day that they’ve just let go by without much fanfare most years. It’s a time where their audience loves to make edits and art of all kinds to celebrate the moment that Dan took the train up to Manchester and they met for the first time. That first selfie in the Apple Store where their much smaller audience was excited to see them together. Oh, the thousands of selfies that have followed after that first one.

You couldn’t have told those two kids. They couldn’t have known. Even if Dan had been hoping. For something long-lasting. For forever.

Iconic, when he struggles with commitment in so many other ways.

But never about Phil. It was strange how he was so certain about him, right from the start. Maybe he was just a hopeful adolescent, so full of yearning, but even back then, nothing had felt like finding Phil. Of meeting him, of loving him.  

“Blessed day,” Phil mutters, still clearly tired.

He makes no mention of the fact that it took them a little while longer to put a label on it, but it hadn’t mattered. Not really. Labels have always been one of Dan’s enemies. He felt like nothing could quite capture him well enough, and even now, he feels like nothing can quite capture his and Phil’s relationship still. Perhaps that’s why he’s so prone to spin so many tales and metaphors of it, still grasping for words that can finally encompass all of it.

He is not sure he’ll ever find it, but he doesn’t mind.

Not as long as Phil stays right here, while he weaves each declaration into existence.

Dan reaches down to play with Phil’s hair. Still quite pristine blond in its current condition. The bleach has been a little harder on the hair, but Phil is doing a good job not letting it get too damaged. Takes care of it with that purple shampoo and all that.

Back when they met, Phil was dying his hair black and now he dyes it blond.

Back when they met, Dan straightened his curl into submission, now he allows them to live their best hobbit life.

Dark to light, constraints to freedom. Growth even in their appearances, like all they’ve matured couldn’t help but shine out of them.

“I’m excited for the show tonight,” Phil says, eyes still closed and breathing heavy. He could slip back into sleep if Dan would let him.

“We’re not performing tonight,” Dan says, hand still moving through Phil’s hair. Petting him. He knows that’s not what Phil means but he loves to tease.

Sure enough, Phil pinches his hip. Hard. Enough to hurt really, but no touch from Phil truly hurts. It just makes Dan laugh.

“The festival. It���ll bring me back to my youth.”

“Sure, old man,” Dan says.

It earns him another pinch, this time to his thigh and fair enough, this one does hurt a little. But it stings in a nice way. Grounds him and just makes his smile widen. Phil’s hands all over him is always a good thing.

Before Phil, he was touch-starved. Still feels it creep in when they’re apart for too long. Last time he was in USA doing We’re all doomed, they had gone the longest ever without seeing each other. The touch-starvation came back full force then. Dan was pretty sure he tried to live inside of Phil’s skin when he got back.

He’s so glad they’re back on this continent together for Terrible Influence. He loved doing his solo tour, but this feels right. Not like when he kept turning around with his eyes searching for Phil on instinct.

“I will bite you,” Phil threatens.

And he would. If Dan asked real nicely.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

“Stop being horny, I’m trying to threaten you,” Phil says but his voice is dancing along the words. Way too amused for them to have any effect.

“Do you think you’ll cry? Hearing the music?” Dan asks, pulling Phil even closer. They’d be fused together soon, but he feels the chill along his spine, remembering the month where he couldn’t touch him.

The only way to starve it off is bringing himself back to this moment. Phil in his arms. Dan might never let go.

“No,” Phil says, and his voice is flat. Deadpan. But then it softens a little. “It’ll be very cool though. To have those two sharing the stage.”

“Yeah,” Dan agrees, but his mind is drifting again.

That’s the thing with collaboration, isn’t it? If you have two people, you really like, it’s only natural to want to bring them together. To see what would happen to have them side by side. Maybe they’ll enhance each other.

Like him and Phil did.

Dan is under no illusion that the two of them would be here if they’d decided to keep their private life entirely private. If they’d never done another video after that first pinof, the interest would not have grown to what it had been.

No, they bound themselves to each other in every way a human really can. Professionally, emotionally, romantically, sexually, reputationally, creatively, socially, physically.

Their very souls could be mates, if you believe in such a thing. It’s hard to remain a cynic about soulmates when you live a life like Dan does. But he will die on that hill. Maybe his and Phil’s souls are made of the same stardust, or whatever, but they are the ones who took fate into their own hands.

Dan saw Phil and reached out. Phil heard him and reached back.

He’ll not let some cosmic force take all of that from them. The cosmic force was not there when they struggled with privacy and uncertainty and all of it coming so close to boiling over. How they weathered the storm and found calmer seas again.

Even when those calmer seas made Dan was to visit land for a while. To feel the ground underneath his feet again. To have Phil be the one on the ship, and after a while, hand stretched and tempting with just a short voyage. To see what would happen.

Dan hadn’t been sure. He hadn’t trusted his own brain. But he’d trusted Phil. Believed him when he said that it would all work out.

And now they’re back on that ship and it’s faster than ever. Gliding through the waves as easily as nothing. Made stronger by all that its endured. Fifteen years on the sea.

It’s Phil’s fingertips on Dan’s chest that brings him back. Pressure, right where his heart is beating. His eyes are open now, and he’s propped himself up on the elbow. Still no glasses, so he can’t see shit, but he looks at Dan like he can.

“What are you doing?” Dan asks.

“Checking your heart, but it’s not racing. Thought maybe you were panicking.”

He can do that sometimes. In the existential crises, when the thoughts spiral too far, too deep, for him to make head or tails of it all. Phil was always the best person to bring him out of it.

“I wasn’t,” Dan answers honestly. “Just thinking about us. Nothing can panic me about that.”

Phil’s snort is telling enough.

Dan reconsiders. “Nothing can panic me about that anymore.”

“Good,” Phil says and then it’s his whole palm on Dan’s chest. Warm and alive. Steady, like the beat in Dan’s heart. “We should get up.”

He lets go of Dan to roll over to the other side of the bed and put on his glasses. He’s just thrown them on, and they’re crooked. Dan sits up and fixes them for him. Phil lets him. Habit.

He still looks sleepy and like he could melt back into Dan’s embrace. Dan might let him, if he didn’t know that soon they’ll find a knock on their door and be told they can check into their hotel room for the night.

It’ll be good to take a shower. Phil still doesn’t let anyone take a shower on the bus.

“We’re got the whole day until tonight. What do you want to do?” Dan asks.

He sees it, the way an idea flickers into Phil’s eyes. Something funny or sentimental. Dan perks up a little before he’d even opened his mouth.

“Starbucks.”

One word. Oh, so simple. But a reference all the same. That’s sentimental. And fun.

They do love a good memory. Hoards them in boxes and store them away safely to be revisited. Their history is special to them. And to their audience, who embarrassingly sometimes know the history better than themselves. They’ll never admit that though, and the audience will never see everything. Just the glimpses that they allow.

But sharing is fun. Having so many people care used to scare Dan but it doesn’t anymore. He and Phil know that they know. It’s been acknowledged and it’s only made things better.

“Sure, we’ll get you Starbucks with Dan,” Dan says and pulls the face, lips pulled taunt and just the barest hint of lifts in the corner. As square as he can make it to mimic the emoji that accompanied that tweet.

Phil tries to shove him off the bed. Fails and just falls into him instead. It ends in laughter, and tangled bodies, because of course it does.

They’ve never been able to resist getting tangled up in each other.

And it’s fitting to start the day with an old reference. Maybe it won’t be the only one today.

[leavingsunsets]

hi, I saw you were taking requests and so, how about senku, gen, hyoga and ryusui (dr. stone) with a reader who's usually on her own world, gets distracted easily and is really helpful and nice to everyone, one day they're talking and suddenly the conversation moves to how the human brain works and reader starts talking about chemical components and processes of the brain (turns out she's into neuroscience), how would the boys would react to it?

it can be platonic or romantic, it doesn't have to be all of them, you could make it separate reactions or all of them reacting as a group, however you like best ^^

omg thank you for requesting! ill admit, i really cant imagine Hyoga of all people participating in casual group discussions, so ill just do them separately instead !

"𝖶𝖾𝗅𝗅, 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍'𝗌 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀."

(𝚏!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

𝙎𝙚𝙣𝙠𝙪 𝙄𝙨𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙢𝙞

Pleasantly surprised. Who knew someone as usually airheaded as you was actually quite well versed in a field of science? You've peaked his interest.

Would enthuse with you about it. Maybe even be willing to pipe in now and then with his own knowledge.

Likes to listen to you ramble while he works. Not just because you absentmindedly work faster while talking (you usually can't even do a long task without your attention getting grabbed elsewhere).

Actually even learns from you a little.

Finds it a little funny considering how you're always off, either out assisting or daydreaming. You're all whimsy and chill until the moment someone mentions anything about nerves or the brain.

Likes the fact that you're similar to him in a way that you both are willing to part your knowledge to others. Whenever someone asks, or doesn't understand, you happily break it down for them. This gives you a raise in his eyes.

At least now, he knows where to go if at some point the power of neuroscience is needed.

𝙂𝙚𝙣 𝘼𝙨𝙖𝙜𝙞𝙧𝙞

Surprised, and sweating. He just mentioned that Kaseki has some really good hand-eye coordination. Suddenly, you were talking about how signals travel through spine.

It's an interesting fact. Like a nice trivia. Little miss daydreamer has hidden stock knowledge about the nervous system enough to make her a definite neurologist in this primitive era. Luckily, there was no need to test that statement. And hopefully never any.

He does learn bits and facts from you. Although that's only sometimes because most of the time he's just wondering what the hell is a Broca's area.

But, as it's so rare to see this passionate side of you, he humors it.

Kind of observes you, you know. Nods along while you ramble, even taking advantage of it. Just hands you whatever work he was doing and you take it, too immersed in explaining to him how impulses travel through synapse.

"Is that so? That's pretty complex." he makes a thoughtful expression, putting the golden wire he was twisting into your hands. This spurs you to expound on the topic, not noticing how he's not even doing anything anymore aside from clasping his hands together and sitting back.

𝙃𝙮𝙤𝙜𝙖 𝘼𝙠𝙖𝙩𝙨𝙪𝙠𝙞

"..."

Just stands there silently. He's a good listener, yes, but when it comes to topics he doesn't know ass about, expect no feedback.

Most likely if you catch him at his free time, nothing on his mind, maybe he might? But it would be moreso comments about you.

"You're surprisingly knowledgeable about this."

Hyoga is a man all about efficiency. Quick trips, and doesn't really sit down a lot. So, he didn't really notice you that much at first.

This is one way to at least catch his attention though. Though you are now dubbed 'brain girl' in his mind.

𝙍𝙮𝙪𝙨𝙪𝙞 𝙉𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞

Would be the most willing out of all the boys in this list to actually sit down and discuss it with you.

He has time, plus, he sees how passionate you are about it. Why not?! Let him hear whatever you've got in that noggin!

Scene of both you round a table. You're chatting away while he leans back and sips on his mug. That kind of vibe.

Encourages this, as he doesn't see you this enthusiastic very often.

It doesn't mean he doesn't like your usual personality, but it's just that you seem brighter every time you talk about anything related to that topic!

Overall, he finds your love for neuroscience an interesting trait. He used to assume you as the kind airhead aboard, but now he knows a little more than that.

Aside from that, he also genuinely goes "Hmm." and strokes his chin, like whenever you tell him a fun trivia. Like, wow, he did not know that. Very interesting.

└─────────────────── ⋆☆⋆ ───────────────────┘

[alphaman99]

Mark Flatt

One crisp winter morning in Sweden, a cute little girl named Greta woke up to a perfect world, one where there were no petroleum products ruining the earth. She tossed aside her cotton sheet and wool blanket and stepped out onto a dirt floor covered with willow bark that had been pulverized with rocks. “What’s this?” she asked.

“Pulverized willow bark,” replied her fairy godmother.

“What happened to the carpet?” she asked.

“The carpet was nylon, which is made from butadiene and hydrogen cyanide, both made from petroleum,” came the response.

Greta smiled, acknowledging that adjustments are necessary to save the planet, and moved to the sink to brush her teeth where instead of a toothbrush, she found a willow, mangled on one end to expose wood fibre bristles.

“Your old toothbrush?” noted her godmother, “Also nylon.”

“Where’s the water?” asked Greta.

“Down the road in the canal,” replied her godmother, ‘Just make sure you avoid water with cholera in it”

“Why’s there no running water?” Greta asked, becoming a little peevish.

“Well,” said her godmother, who happened to teach engineering at MIT, “Where do we begin?” There followed a long monologue about how sink valves need elastomer seats and how copper pipes contain copper, which has to be mined and how it’s impossible to make all-electric earth-moving equipment with no gear lubrication or tires and how ore has to be smelted to a make metal, and that’s tough to do with only electricity as a source of heat, and even if you use only electricity, the wires need insulation, which is petroleum-based, and though most of Sweden’s energy is produced in an environmentally friendly way because of hydro and nuclear, if you do a mass and energy balance around the whole system, you still need lots of petroleum products like lubricants and nylon and rubber for tires and asphalt for filling potholes and wax and iPhone plastic and elastic to hold your underwear up while operating a copper smelting furnace and . . .

“What’s for breakfast?” interjected Greta, whose head was hurting.

"Fresh, range-fed chicken eggs,” replied her godmother. “Raw.”

“How so, raw?” inquired Greta.

“Well, . . .” And once again, Greta was told about the need for petroleum products like transformer oil and scores of petroleum products essential for producing metals for frying pans and in the end was educated about how you can’t have a petroleum-free world and then cook eggs. Unless you rip your front fence up and start a fire and carefully cook your egg in an orange peel like you do in Boy Scouts. Not that you can find oranges in Sweden anymore.

“But I want poached eggs like my Aunt Tilda makes,” lamented Greta.

“Tilda died this morning,” the godmother explained. “Bacterial pneumonia.”

“What?!” interjected Greta. “No one dies of bacterial pneumonia! We have penicillin.”

“Not anymore,” explained godmother “The production of penicillin requires chemical extraction using isobutyl acetate, which, if you know your organic chemistry, is petroleum-based. Lots of people are dying, which is problematic because there’s not any easy way of disposing of the bodies since backhoes need hydraulic oil and crematoriums can’t really burn many bodies using as fuel Swedish fences and furniture, which are rapidly disappearing - being used on the black market for roasting eggs and staying warm.”

This represents only a fraction of Greta’s day, a day without microphones to exclaim into and a day without much food, and a day without carbon-fibre boats to sail in, but a day that will save the planet.

Tune in tomorrow when Greta needs a root canal and learns how Novocain is synthesized.

[jezmmart]

#AMaY Commentary

Wanted to give a little commentary on the #AMaY project but needed a couple days breather haha. This mostly focuses on how I created each day with the full hidden final image in mind, but I also talk a bit about like "Why Amy???" on a personal level at the bottom.

So firstly, worth revisiting this old popular music video if you have the time, it was pretty viral back when it came out. This will become relevant shortly - not a huge deal if you don't want to watch it, but the reason I'm bringing it up will spoil said music video a bit so yeah, mentioning it and encouraging a watch now without context.

So yeah, #AMaY! It really came down to the wire on finishing it due to work, and I had to eat into my 2-week comic buffer that I'm now due to rebuild to keep up in the end.

It was basically the result of just REALLY enjoying drawing Amy and joking with friends and such to the point of being like "do I really enjoy drawing her that much that I could do a whole month of it? I think I could". Wasn't wrong!

I didn't have any set prompt list in mind, my idea was just to draw what idea grabbed me on the day. Then, inspired by various things I've seen do this but particularly that aforementioned music video which does the same reveal at the end, I had the idea of "what if I make it so they all make a picture of Amy when connected up". I had already sketched out this idea for the first day:

But started over after having this moment of inspiration.

What I didn't factor in is how this sort of effect is MUCH easier with simpler, larger pictures. I really should have just done her head or something, then most of my backgrounds could just be vague geometric shapes but didn't realise the practicality of it until it was too late, which is why we ended up with so many backgrounds of strange patterns and twisty pipes and such that I would try to mask by putting in additional patterns and pipes and whatnot as red herrings that were lower contrast than the ones making up the Amy picture.

I drew out what the final secret picture was going to be across a grid representing the days in the month, then each day I would start with a canvas of one square and figure out "now what sort of background can I turn this into, and what kind of Amy would belong in that background".

Naturally I had some ideas I was already leaning towards - goth Amy was one of them. When I looked at this portion of the image, the only sort of background thing I could see was some kind of cartooney medieval tower with a rim at the top. From there I realised the skirt could be bushes or walls around some dramatic graveyard hills, the creases in the skirt could be a path as long as Amy is positioned to hide the fact that they aren't actually connecting in the context of the hidden image. In some cases where it wouldn't make sense for a background element to suddenly stop, I instead used foreground scenery, such as the gravestone directly behind Amy here, to turn the element into the shape I wanted. These pipes that are going behind metal panels in the Chemical Plant background in order to turn them into eyelash shapes are another example:

Then when I got the idea to turn the lineart of of hidden Amy's skirt rim and chest into long wispy spirits escaping from the earth or something, it was just a case of adding a bunch more random ones of those to the rest of the background with lower contrast so they don't stand out as much as the important ones do. The one in the foreground also does the job of cutting off the path that makes up the tiny bit of Amy's leg lineart. Within the context of the graveyard background, the path continues, but at the zoomed out view, it can't be distinguished at a glance.

This was the kind of thought process that went into the more elaborate backgrounds. Naturally there were some where the Amy idea COULD come first, because what was required of the background was so simple I was kind of free to turn it into anything - or just take a day off and do simple geometric backgrounds.

(Again though, you can see here that I did all the circles as red herrings to imply that the little blob in the corner is another one - but the corner one is a deeper colour than the others).

And of course there were some days where I just COULD NOT think of anything that wouldn't be completely conspicious, so I just made Amy take up as much space as possible so I only had a few background lines to deal with, trusting that the grand context of the final hidden image would solve it in the end.

The final note is that I didn't JUST draw from these segments - I was steadily building up the full collage as I went, so I'd always have a "bleed" area I'd draw into with the existing surrounding days to make sure that the final result DID all connect up.

So yeah, that's the broad strokes of it!

To end on something more philosophical, I did sort of end thinking to myself as I spent all these hours drawing her - "Hey though, what is it about Amy? WHY do I love drawing her so much? Why is this one my blorbo?"

Humour me as I get all deep about cartoon pink hedgehog but I think it comes down to a few factors.

Let's address the elephant in the room first - unless I'm specifically looking to evoke her canon-self, I draw her with a more anthropomorphic sexy figure compared to the blobby, noodle-limbed body she has in the actual series, don't I. You see, in Sonic Adventure 2 there was this one promotional 3D render of her where they gave her one heck of a rack and also once I was on the internet as a teenager and partaking in the fandom, I saw other fanartists do the same with thighs to match. This was all during a vulnerable time in my development and it all made me a little unwell about Amy permanently, I think. Like, that cute haircut, the knee-high boots, the shiny short-skirted dress, this is all stuff that looks really attractive when you slap it on a human body!

Sonic himself is like... peak character design. There's a reason he's lasted so long and holds such mass appeal as a cartoon character. The only way to improve on that perfection is to make a girl version, and that's pretty much what Amy is. So no wonder she's so fun to draw!

And tailing off that - as an aspiring femme NB person who has not always been so, I do think I've always had a particular interest in the hyper-feminine aesthetic, which Amy has in spades. I think that's also a big part of her allure to me as a character. Much like how I live a lot of my feminine interest vicariously through my pin-up art, dressing up my OCs in cute clothes and such, I think that extends to Amy as well; a kind of obsession with the youthful hyper-feminine aesthetic that I just never got to openly enjoy in any real way earlier in life because I hadn't figured all this NB stuff out yet. I just love cute girly pink stuff!!!

That'll do it I think. I could probably waffle on about each individual day's art if I really wanted to but this is long enough as is. Check out the alt text if you like as I often mention easter eggs and costume details in those to try and make sure those with eyesight issues are getting the same experience as those without.

Thank you again one and all for enjoying or at least putting up with the month!

[More: #AMaY | Art Insight]

[rebeccathenaturalist]

Bizarre question for worldbuilding: what kind of fungus would be best at interfacing with electronics? Whether that be actively picking up and transmitting signals or just wiring itself into a keyboard and manipulating it that way; it's a librarian, so I don't have to be picky. I was thinking a cordyceps, but if you have better ideas, I am all (wood) ears!

@specsthespectraldragon Honestly, I think any mycorrhizal fungus would work. The mycorrhizal network of fungal mycelium is already thought to function as a communication network among trees and other plants (though to what degree is debatable.) The signals in a mycorrhizae are chemical rather than electric; there's some evidence for plants sending electrical signals, but I believe that's largely between different parts of one plant rather than among multiple individuals.

Of course, you're working within a fictional setting, so feel free to mess about with this as much as you want. If your world's scientists have discovered that plants evolved ways to extend their electrical signalling capabilities to the mycorrhizae through the fungal mycelium, I think that would be a perfectly reasonable bit of science fiction to toss in there.

Good luck with your project; it sounds like a lot of fun!

[neuroticboyfriend]

Addiction is an chemically hard-wired, obsessive experience that results in impulsivity and cravings. We tend to ruminate over drugs, fixated on getting our next high. But as our addiction goes on - tolerance rises, wallets slim - we may find we don't have enough drugs to feed that obsession anymore.

And once that starts to happen, we crash. We may get extremely depressed, angry, and anxious. It's overwhelming and can be torturous. Most people encourage us to cope by staying away from drugs, but what do you do if you can't distract yourself or get away? Well, you can start by being kinder to yourself. Accept that you don't have the coping skills you need, and leave room to (patiently) work on finding some self soothing/care activities (ex: H.A.L.T Are you Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired?). Take it a day at a time; don't rush.

But still, that may not be enough, so here I present to you: how to fulfill your drug obsession without actually doing drugs... Trick yourself. Learn about harm reduction, how the drugs you use work, drug subculture, the war on drugs, the drug industry, etc. Engage with and make art. Sulk to music if you have to. Here, your mind is still occupied by drugs, but you're also doing something helpful, maybe even fulfilling. Engaging in online harm reduction communities is also great.

Life as an addict is never going to be perfect - no life is. We can't force ourselves to do things we aren't ready for, but we can make the most of the time we have, and have fun/do good with it. If you don't know where to start, here are some online sources I use, with some harm reduction resources tacked on.

Remember: how you feel now won't last forever, and being an addict is not a moral failing. We have an illness, and if our best is staying alive, that's no less important and beautiful than some stereotypically successful person. Be gentler with yourself.

TL;DR: Can't cope without drugs, but don't have drugs to use/really need to abstain? Click here to help keep your addict brain occupied without actually doing drugs. Others, feel free to add on.

[agirlandherquill]

the troublesome typewriter

introducing rust bucket!

she’s an olympia sm2, and also my summer project, i got her mid-july and ive been working on her for about three hours nearly every day ever since

now when i got her, she was a mess, and i mean a mess - what im assuming is decades worth of grime, dust, rust, and i dread to think what else came off of her - hot soapy water was a life saver in terms of cleaning, then pure white vinegar (not the distilled kind, ive been using the elbow grease brand since that’s all i could find in my local supermarket) to get rid of the rust,

waging a war with rust, im fairly certain its surface rust, has been a nightmare - ive removed as much as i can, it takes a long time with pure white vinegar since its not the strongest thing in the world but since it doesn’t seem to harm the machine itself i don’t mind, its a bit of a trade off rather than risking using harsher chemicals, but of course rust adds character (is that my way of excusing the little bits of rust here and there that i can’t quite get off? yes, yes it is) so i decided to call her rust bucket,

she’s not completely good to go yet, she’s had a bit of an oil and a clean to free up the keys and the carriage because let me tell you, when i first got her, those did not want to move one bit,

then i had to spend a few hours tinkering with the drawband, working out how to adjust the tension and use a wire with a makeshift hook to thread it back to where it’s supposed to be and attach it to the carriage to make it move while typing - which before i sorted it out, it did not do, at all - and i finally managed to sort that issue today!

it’s around 85% working, perfectly fine writing a5 wise since that’s about halfway through the ruled scale, but going past halfway for a4 seems to require me pressing the shift button to give it a bit of a wiggle so to speak so that the carriage shifts on and i can type the next letter, so doing that between letters is the only slightly annoying part, but given the fact that it didn’t even move at all before i started working on it I’m more than happy with how it is,

all i have left to do is give her a final scrub, a bit more sanding down (might do that before the scrub im not too sure), then painting!

i know it’s not the usual stuff i post on writeblr, not at all, but i figured if i’m going to try and write on this thing when it’s all sorted out then it’s worth sharing,

and it’s also a way for me to remember that i actually made this decades old machine work again, and it’s the first time ive ever tried anything like that, so im super happy with how its gone so far!

and considering ive only spent about £20, including the machine itself then with supplies, it’s really going to pay off for future me and future writing (i hope!),

so hopefully in a couple of weeks i’ll be able to show you all rust bucket when she’s all finished!