#primary cell and cell line

[legendaryturtletheorist]

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[kosheeka]

Role of Tissue Culture in the Study of Cancer

For the case of primary cancer cell cultures, fresh surgically resected tissue is used to develop ex vivo cell populations.  While the most widely used culture method for studying cancer, especially in preclinical assays employs the use of immortalized cell lines. However, the process of transformation makes the accuracy of these models questionable, and hence, whether the actual cancer behavior is represented by these models becomes a question.

[historicity-was-already-taken]

Received this question just now. Posting my response sans askers' username per their request:

Hi, as you are a holocaust historian, and as you mentioned in a recent post, words mean things, I was sort of wondering what you thought about people saying that what’s happening in Palestine isn’t genocide because the holocaust was genocide/6 million Jews was genocide. I’ve seen a couple people saying stuff along the lines of ‘if what’s happening in Palestine is genocide, we need another word for the holocaust’. I’m not worried about you knowing it’s me asking (like asking on anon) because I think you talk to people pretty reasonably but if you could answer it in private or without my name on the ask I would appreciate it, people seeing it could get… unpleasant, talking about this stuff and I try to stay out of the line of fire to the best of my ability. Totally fine if you don’t want to answer, I don’t want you hounded about Palestine either, it just seemed like you might have an interesting take with your studies

Anyone is capable of genocide, of following orders to commit human rights abuses, of attacking civilians, etc. No identity groups’ past—however violent and traumatic—makes them incapable of committing war crimes. Referring to what’s happening in Gaza as genocide doesn’t invalidate Jewish communal thought regarding the Holocaust. Moreover, the fact that the State of Israel has built Holocaust memory into its nation-building doesn’t mean that that country is inherently incapable of crimes against humanity. There is a cohort of primarily 65+ Jews who hold a trauma-induced belief that Israel could never be capable of these crimes because everything Israel does is in the interest of protecting the Jewish people. It’s a pretty thought, and one I used to hold, but it’s not reality. Many as well would argue that, because the October 7 attack was inherently genocidal, Israel was moral and just doing what it needed to do to bring the hostages home and stamp out Hamas cells. Indeed, these hypothetical individuals would continue, the fact that Hamas has built itself into the civilian architecture of Gaza means that Hamas is using Palestinian civilians as human shields; not that Israel is committing genocide. I personally think that’s wishful thinking. Hamas 800% bases itself near structures like hospitals and kindergartens so Israel will look bad when it attacks those places,* thus willfully allowing the people it governs to exist as human shields. HOWEVER, I don’t believe for one minute that the Israeli military doesn’t have the technology needed to seek out evidence of heat, heartbeats, etc, in hidden subterranean areas. Their counter-attack was always going to happen, but the way it’s been fought? Naw man it’s indefensible.

You know I don't do comparisons or Holocaust inversion, but I do have feelings and emotional responses which don't care about my Serious Intellectual Historian views on comparisons and Holocaust inversion. And, there's a very disturbing moment in one of my primary sources for my book where a woman describes a Nazi attack on a hospital in the Warsaw Ghetto. She describes the screaming and the panic and the civilians begging to be euthanized. Similar readings and sources exist for hospitals in Warsaw during the 1944 Warsaw Uprising when the Germans were destroying the city. I suspect similar descriptions exist of any hospital of a densely populated civilian area under siege. And, even if I was still bullheadedly in my Zionist era, I wouldn't have been able to simultaneously do the work I do, watch Israeli soldiers attacking hospitals, and emerge completely fine with everything. All of that doesn’t erase the simultaneous facts that: 1) the Holocaust happened and was a traumatic moment in Jewish History, the memory of which will endure throughout the millennia; and 2) the October 7 attacks were carried out by Hamas with genocidal intent.

What you’re seeing is people within our community dealing with cognitive dissonance. And honestly the experience of watching people lash out is stage 1 of that process (or as I call it, the Cognitive Dissonance Temper Tantrum). It’s no fun to witness, but can be positive if the person doing the temper tantrum chooses to learn from it. 

ETA: When I discuss things I felt/believed in my "Zionist Era," I'm discussing stuff from when I was like, under 21 years old. For reference I am currently 35.

No one has my permission to use my words to silence other Jewish people. You have no obligation to stick around for people having cognitive dissonance freakouts or saying shitty things about Palestinians, but I see part of my...duty as being available to work with Jewish individuals who want to deal productively with their cognitive dissonance once the freakout period dies down, if they want help.

*Here my Unnamed I/P Reader notes that it’s quite a bit more complicated than stated here in part due to Gaza’s pre-Oct. 7 2023 population density.

[catboybiologist]

Do you see a future where we can give a trans person a shot and have their body start making the correct sex hormones (eg testes change to make E, or ovaries change to make T)? How far off? What things need to be accomplished to achieve it, and what tools do we already have?

Disclaimer that none of this is gonna be all that scientifically robust, the terms used are gonna be descriptive rather than technical, and that I'm just woke up and these are the ravings of a woman gone mad.

A single shot is ambitious, but I could see a course of several months or a couple years that, after those several months, lasts a lifetime.

How far off? I mean, wildly dependent on funding and focus. Unfortunately, nothing related to trans healthcare is gonna see a serious push I would think. With an actual, serious push, I would give it a few decades of research (if that)(this is blisteringly fast btw) until it's punted over to the FDA. At that point it's outside of my knowledge to know how far things would move forward.

But honestly, it's part politics, part luck of the draw on what people research and push forward. Might happen in our lifetime, but don't hold your breath. Research is grindingly slow.

This is mostly based around the possibility of inducing transdifferentiation. Tldr:

-stem cells are exciting bc they can become any cell type. They haven't "locked in" their cell fate yet.

-most research on cellular differentiation centers around deprogrammed differentiated cells, reverting them to stem cells, and then reprogramming them into something else. The deprogramming is actually well studied (shoutout Yamanaka factors) but I don't see something like this reaching a medicinal, in vivo use soon.

-in extremely rare and induced cases, however, you can force a fully differentiated cell type to become another fully differentiated cell type *without* that intermediate. This is likely way easier to pull off in vivo, even though the initial molecular triggers are much, much rarer and more difficult to study.

Which brings us to the two theoretical dots that we can use here: prostatic metioplasias as a result of testosterone (for transmascs) and the role of DMRT1 for transfemmes.

Broad tldr of each of these points:

-there was a study that studied vaginal lining of transmascs who had been on T for several years and gotten hysterectomies. They found some prostate tissue intercalating the vagina.

-removal of a particular gene (DMRT1) allowed testes to slowly become ovarian tissue and produce estrogens. This gene is responsible for maintaining testes cell fate- keeping the lock, locked.

Neither of these provides a direct basis for actual medication. They show avenues for what will work, however. What's necessary here is to understand the upstream signals that control the expression of genes like DMRT1, which can then be exploited to force expression or stop expression in vivo, in a human.

Basically, the way transdifferentiation would work here is blasting the appropriate cells with enough of these signals, over enough time to ensure that everything actually undergoes TD, to reprogram everything you want to reprogram.

(yes, I know about the crispr transfemme who targeted DMRT1. No, I don't think that's real. I've posted about that before.)

You don't have to bother reading these, but here's the primary sources I'm talking about for anyone interested:

[impossiblycolorfulpanda]

The way Bryke treats Zutara shippers in general is just slightly disgusting. Making fun of them whenever the opportunity arises and using the ship as the butt of jokes too many times like… that’s a solid 70% of your fanbse you’re making fun of. They’re the reason you’re even on the map. Shut up Bryke. I don’t know about 70% of the fanbase, but even if it were only a small portion it’s still just…rude and unprofessional to mock your fans? I think about this a lot because I was 16 when the show ended and I know a lot of other Zutara shippers were also teenage girls, and Mike and Bryan were adults. Two grown men making fun of teenage girls who liked the show and the characters they had created. I don’t care how “obnoxious” some of the fans might have been to them - and I’m sure there were fans who were also out of line - but Mike and Bryan were the adults and they chose to act like children, and mean, spiteful children at that.

Ya telling me, and you know what else? They are a big reason why Zutara is so popular in the first place. Bryke are the primary showrunners, what they say goes, they are in charge of approving/allowing what scene goes in the series.

They didn't have to make Zuko say "I'll save you from the pirates" right before trying to uncharacteristically bargain with Katara with an uncharacteristically clam demeaner while unintentionally proposing to her, since the necklace reveals to be a betrothal necklace.

They didn't have to let Zuko and Katara be locked in a cave together with crystals that almost look similar to the crystals from the cave of two lovers. They could've been locked in two jail cells far away from each other.

Speaking of which, Oma and Shu didn't have to be colored red and and blue respectively in one of the flashback scenes (the red one even looked like Ozai) and have their respective nations be at war against each other. You could tell they really, really wanted that story to parallel to Kataang but did a piss poor job of it. For one, Aang and Katara's nations never fought each other, not like how the Fire Nation and Water Tribes were going at it.

Zuko didn't have to be vulnerable with Katara in that cave and briefly explain his banishment and still act calm around her. She didn't have to offer to heal her scar with the only spirit water she had. Jet's ghost be like. "Are you kidding me?! Thanks a lot!" Katara didn't have to be the very first person to touch his scar before bringing the water out and Zuko didn't have to let her touch it and neither of them had to stand their for 5 seconds as the music amps up.

Katara understandably threatened to waste Zuko if he looks even slightly suspicious, and yet she pays no mind with Zuko bringing both Aang and Sokka to life threatening side-quests beyond Katara's supervision, both of which end with Aang getting over his pyrophobia and Katara and Sokka being reunited with their father and Sokka reunited with his girlfriend. Bryke let all of this happen.

Zuko didn't have to be the one to give Katara the means to find emotional closure and finally overcome her trauma. Katara didn't have to open up to him about the much more grisly details about her mother's death and have Zuko compliment her mother's bravery, all before Katara finally decides to forgive Zuko.

They didn't have to have June tease about Katara and Zuko dating multiple times. They didn't have to allow Zuko and Katara share the "parental figure for the gaang" mantle. They didn't have to spend the last scene Aang and Katara have before making out with them having another heated argument while Zuko and Katara spent their time working together to usurp Zuko's way to the throne.

They also didn't have show parallels/symbolism, after parallels/symbolism, after parallels/symbolism.

It's Bryke's fault that Zutara caught so many people's attention and they have the nerve to mock and ridicule them for disagreeing with their personal self-insert fantasy that does not matter to the narrative. The whole thing with basing Kataang off of a little boy having it down bad for an older big-sister-like figure who doesn't feel the same way doesn't help Bryke's case at all either.

[ghost-proofbaby]

SO SCARLET (IT WAS MAROON)

CHAPTER THREE: ALL TOO WELL

AND I KNOW IT'S LONG GONE AND THERE WAS NOTHING ELSE I COULD DO, AND I FORGET ABOUT YOU LONG ENOUGH TO FORGET WHY I NEEDED TO.

☆ pairings: rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader

☆ warnings: no use of y/n, strong language, angst, description of panic attack, minors dni

☆ WC: 5.7K+

☆ A/N: it'll be a short fic, i said. short and sweet and simple, i lied to myself.

thank you to my love @hellfire--cult for the divider!

masterlist

The moment your name leaves his lips, you swear the world halts on its rotation. 

This was real. Every fear and every anxiety you had wrestled with over the last twenty four hours wasn’t for naught – he was here, sitting before you, breathing your name out like a sigh of relief when all you felt was pain. Stabbing, radiating pain. It’s even worse than looking at pictures and headlines of a stranger on a phone screen. Something about him suddenly being tangible, suddenly being real, sends you reeling. 

Lydia looks wildly between your showdown with the ghost of a man before you, “I’m sorry… Do you two- do you know each other?”

Not anymore.

“I-” you choke on your stutter. You’re frozen under his stare, going ashen as your head spins. Leave the room. Think of an excuse, get out of this room, run away. “I have to go to the bathroom.”

It’s the world’s most pathetic excuse, but the only thing you can spit out before you’re turning heel and running, just as your body had so desperately craved. You nearly bump into one of the security guards you’d just bravely had a confrontation with. 

They’d demanded your phone, you had put up a fight. You had stood your ground. Had held your chin high, dared them to push further even once they had your cell phone in their grasp, and displayed all that self-assuredness you had curated in the last two years. Only to end up scampering past them like a wounded animal mere seconds later.

Pathetic.

Lydia calls out something after you, but it reaches deaf ears as you blaze down the hallway. Your chest is squeezing, as if someone had wrapped it in shrink-wrap and sucked all of the air right out of it, swathed so tightly you could feel every pounding beat of your pulse racing. Your eyesight completely blurs, not quite from tears but rather a mere loss of focus. You nearly knock over one of the god forsaken fake plants Lydia insists as a primary form of decor, hardly being within the right mind to reach out and right the oversized bush of green plastic. 

But you don’t have to. Right as your back collides with the wall off to the side of the plant, breathing only coming in short and miserable pants, a different hand reaches out to catch the plant. A ringed hand. 

When Eddie says your name again, it’s not a sigh. It’s laced with panic as you support your full weight against white plaster and stare at where knuckles wrap around faux wooden stems. 

“Hey,” he stresses, hand leaving your line of sight as he puts a large palm on each of your shoulders. You can’t look at him, not yet, “Hey, can you breathe for me? C’mon, big breaths.” 

This close, you can smell the cologne. It’s not even the same woodsy drugstore scent that had lingered on the pillowcases he’d left you to cling to while on tour. Even that, something so miniscule as what cologne he now wore, had changed. And the new and unfamiliar scent chokes you, turns your desperate gasps for air even more futile. 

You had walked out of that apartment two years ago, without any intention of ever being this close to him again. You’d sworn to yourself you’d never be this close again. 

“You’re having a panic attack,” he squeezes your shoulders within his hold ever so slightly, as if attempting to ground you, “You need to breathe.” 

Your eyes nervously find his brown ones. For a second, you recall summer days when the sun would hit them just right, turning them into molten honey for your tasting. Soft and glowing, warming you from the inside out so effortlessly. 

But there’s not a single shred of sunlight in this hallway. The dark brown falls flat against your vision. 

“I’m fine,” you very clearly aren’t, struggling to even get the words out into the air between you two, “I’m- I’m fine.”

He doesn’t fight you when you reach up to swat away his hands. He lets you, hands falling away with ease, touch retracting as if it had never burned you. You take the chance to look over the metal now settled on his fingers, and you realize he still wears all the same ones you remember so vividly. A cross, a pig’s face, an animalistic skull. But there are new ones added to his collection, adorned on his right hand rather than the left. Unfamiliar and odd, the bulky metallic additions are more plentiful. A silver snake wrapped around his pinky, a large spider with the body of a Magic 8 ball on his pointer, a bat spread eagle on his middle. There’s a chunkier one on his thumb, thinner ones added above a few of his second knuckles, but you can’t clear the haze of your vision long enough to pick up on the designs. You choose to focus back on the familiar ones instead, old and comforting even in your panic. 

New rings, new cologne, new habits – the Eddie before you is not the Eddie you once knew. 

“Okay,” he’s whispering now. You’re not even sure what excuse he used to follow you out here without causing a scene. Maybe he did cause a scene, surely a grander one than you. He had that privilege now; he was an untouchable rockstar, he could afford to raise a ruckus. “I… Are you sure?” 

It’s hard to believe there was a time he was a familiar comfort when all that remains now is the awkward distance between the two of you.

But when he takes a step back from you, the new cologne leaves your stratosphere and the new rings leave your field of vision, and the breaths finally come just a tiny bit easier. Still not enough to satiate your lungs, but enough that the headrush begins to pass. 

“I’m sure.” 

You try to insert such finality in those two words. As if whatever had just happened would fade and never exist, as if you could walk back into that conference room and take yourself off this project. You can’t. Eddie has a sense of control, a grip on his reality and the reigns of his choices, but you don’t. If you were to demand Lydia remove you from the project, you’d be risking termination. You’d be risking everything – and it may not be much, but you’d built it brick by broken brick these last few years. You’d salvaged what you had been able to out of the ashes of what had been, but it hadn’t been enough. It had hardly been enough for a foundation. You’d built up the person that now stood before him from practical scratch.

The weight of just how much you had to lose hits suddenly – the realization that this was happening and you had no control of it. 

But Eddie did. He had to. 

“You need to go back in there,” you start, voice still shaking and eyes still averted, “And you need to demand that they reassign you guys. You… You need-” you begin to stutter and fumble to find the right words. You could have lashed out, could have tried to pour salt in a wound you weren’t even sure still existed so that Eddie made the choice on his own. But your mind is muddled and you’re desperate, “Someone else can take on the project. You need to go and demand that someone else takes on the project.” 

“What?” Not the response you wanted. Not the response you needed, “I- No.” 

Two years later, and he still found a way to do significant damage. 

Your eyes snap up, “What do you mean no?” 

“I mean no.”

“I haven’t asked anything of you. Not back then, not after everything happened, I-”

He cuts you off with a scoff. “Can’t ask for anything if you just fall off the face of the fucking earth.” 

You hadn’t noticed before, but as his walls begin to build, you realize that the prior interaction had been something vulnerable. Something where neither of you were on the defense quite yet like you’d always imagined a reunion would go. All that had mattered ten seconds ago was you being okay, him coming after you, making sure you were fine. He’d allotted you all the care and attention you had craved so terribly two years ago, nearly begged for until your knees had bled for. 

“Eddie,” you whisper, getting too distressed to think straight, “Please, for the love of God, just make them reassign the project-”

“I can’t,” he interrupts, shaking his head, “Do you think I’d put myself through this if I could help it? I fucking can’t. I have absolutely no control in there. I didn’t even-” he cuts off his sentence, looking you in your eyes, leaving more to be said. 

He didn’t even what?

“I can’t do anything about it,” he says instead of whatever had been on the tip of his tongue, “Trust me – if I could, I would. But I can’t. So why don’t you say something?” 

It’s your turn for scoffing and disbelief, “I can’t. I’m not the one with all the power and glory-”

“Is that what you think I have?”

“That’s what I know you have.” 

You both go quiet as a battlefield fills the distance between you. All anger, all regret. None of the love or care that had once existed between you two exists here in this quantum plane of sharp words and deadly jabs. 

“Just- please ask for a reassignment,” you try with one final plea, eyes hard on him, “Say that that first impression left you unimpressed, I don’t care. She won’t fire me for that.”

“Once again, no. As it turns out,” his voice is low, dangerous, unfamiliar. A tone he had never used before with you, “Even the one with all the power and all the glory can’t make miracles happen. Sorry, doll.” 

He doesn’t await your response, leaving you on your own as you stay pressed against the wall and he’s walking away. 

What is the saying? ‘Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned’? 

You were certainly feeling scorned.

You felt ripped wide open, beaten and bruised and damn scorned as he leaves a conversation you weren’t finished with. You can’t tell which limb aches the most – the shoulder where his now strange hands had held onto you, your fingers that had curled into pained fists at your side to show you were prepared for a fight, your rib cage that still struggled to expand and accommodate the air now vacant of his cologne that you needed after your panic attack, or the legs that had once carried you away from Eddie Munson only to lead you right back to him. 

There’s nothing you can do, though, beyond composing yourself. You take the same big, deep breaths that Eddie had tried to coax out of you moments before. Your fists slowly unfurl and your palms rake against the side of your jeans in an attempt to wipe away the sweat of the interaction. 

Fine. If he wouldn’t help you, you could handle this. You could manage this project, plan a goddamn party for your ex-boyfriend’s new single. You would treat it just as you did every other previous project you had excelled at, and you would avoid all unnecessary contact with him just as you had with previous clients. 

As a matter of fact, you could probably get away with avoiding all contact. 

He hadn’t hired you. His management had. And, according to him, he had no real power in this situation. If he had no say in the matters, then there would be no reason to reach out to him.

You could do this. You could handle this. 

It’s a mantra of salvation that you repeat to yourself internally as you take confident strides back to that conference room, not even stopping for the guards this time before you burst back into the room when your imminent doom awaits. 

The repetition falters a bit when all eyes land on you as you take your first steps into the room. 

Your name comes out of Lydia’s mouth like a hiss, her teeth locked into a smile that would better pass into a grimace as she asks, “How nice of you to join us again. Please, take a seat.” 

“Of course,” you can’t look her in her eyes for very long, immediately rushing to sit at the chair she’d motioned towards. You haven’t spared Eddie a single glance – you haven’t spared any of the boys you’d once known a look. Instead, you look up to direct an apology at the only face you don’t recognize before you, “I’m truly sorry.” 

The older gentleman, wrapped in a certain kindness and warmth below his professional attire, smiles. And in an instant, his face isn’t quite as unfamiliar, “No worries. When Nature calls, right? Regardless, I’m Matt. Nice to meet you.” 

You can guess which hole in Eddie’s life he’s attempting to smother, which shoes this man serves to fill. He has more hair than his predecessor, but the grin is the same. 

If you picture the man he reminds you of back in Hawkins, you’ll surely begin to ache. 

When you reply with your name, you can hear a fragment of your youth in your voice. Better days spent in Forest Hills trailer park, loitering about a trailer as Wayne Munson asks you how well of an eye you’ve been keeping on his nephew. You’d always lie, say you were keeping him in line when you knew you’d spent the day following him right into trouble, like some sort of lost puppy. Like some sort of loyal soldier. It occurs to you that that’s who you had always been; a fierce soldier over the shoulder of Eddie, ever the brave commander. You would have followed him into battle without a second of consideration, you did follow him all the way to New York without ever taking a final glance at your hometown. 

You wondered if he had tried to replace you as well. You imagine it; the new and fresh face that replaced yours in picture frames, that laid beside him at the end of each night he returned home, that heard a whisper of I love you over the line to the backtrack of a sound rehearsal. 

Were there ever any bloody wars between him and his new lovers that could compare to the battles never fought between you two? Did anyone else in this world know the wounds of his gun never fired? 

The smoke clears. You still don’t look at Eddie, afraid to only see the commander you once knew. You force a smile, putting on a soldier's bravado that doesn’t fit quite right anymore. 

Bullets never fired, triggers never pulled, but the blood stained the same.

“So, where shall we begin?”

—

Matt does most of the talking for the next hour. Sheet after sheet of paperwork is laid down in front of you, your hand beginning to cramp from signing your name so many times, and the details are discussed.

A new single, set to release in three months. A release party that needed to be grandeur and garner the type of attention that Matt feared had been waning from the band due to radio silence on their music front. The outlines of the project were clear cut, simple enough, and you had yourself fooled just well enough that this would be easy.

You kept your eyes set on the prize and never once noticed the tomfoolery occurring between the band members. The words on the tip of their tongues that Eddie keeps quiet through quick kicks to their shins beneath the table, the individual hurt reflected in each of their eyes as you treat them no better than strangers. That treatment of Eddie, they understood. But them?

They could never understand. 

“What’s the name of the single, if I may ask?” you question as you look over one of your copies of the paperwork. Lydia had been eerily silent, allowing you to take the lead. 

Despite the rough start, it was paying off. Having a switch for your emotions can be a good thing, as it turns out. 

“You may,” Matt nods before turning to the boys. It’s the first time he's looked to them for answers during the entire meeting, “Shall I do the honors, or would you boys rather do it yourselves?” 

It’s a chance for all the members of Corroded Coffin to open their mouths without silent reprimanding from Eddie beneath the table, but he beats them to it.

“Dial Tone.”

You freeze your reading. 

There’s something in the way he says it that forces you to look up. As if he’s only speaking to you, and the rest of the room is a faded mirage for him to send away for these private moments. Still a commander, even when his bravest soldier has left him. 

“Sounds… interesting,” you murmur, taking a few seconds too long to meet his gaze, unsure of what to say, “Rolls off the tongue easily.” 

“It certainly does. Which, ironic, given the situation that inspired the song.” 

“And what would that be?”

You’re both wearing masks in front of an audience half made up of people painfully aware of your history, and the rest being painfully oblivious. 

Does Matt know about you? Lydia certainly doesn’t know about Eddie. 

“Words never said. Answers never given. Phone calls missed and never… returned.”

You’re not stupid, but you wish you were. It feels a bit selfish, a bit self absorbed, to so quickly assume you’re the inspiration. 

But how could you believe anything else when Eddie is looking at you like that?

Hollow eyes, devoid of all the honey you once reveled in. Not so much of a stain of sweetness you swear you still taste on the back of your tongue. He’s looking at you with blame, well-deserved anger, and yet not an ounce of the guilt that should exist somewhere in those depths. 

“How riveting,” you play along, trying to swallow down the waves of emotions, “Sounds like it’ll really draw in your audience. Might even be relatable to a few.”

Answers never given. Like how someone could stop saying they loved someone they’d spent years planning their life with, like how he could stop calling so easily, how he could leave so easily. 

“Fingers crossed,” his forced smile in return is almost sinister, and you know it was the right choice to avoid speaking to each other until this moment.

There will be no contact. You know now that if you take on this project, which you technically have through law-binding contracts, that you won’t be able to be civil with Eddie. There is a history that can never be erased, mistakes made and wounds inflicted by both sides. Two worlds of hurt caused by opposing sets of hands that can only clash when they try to meet in the middle. 

But then Matt, sweet Matt that you had come to actually like during this meeting, has to burst your bubble.

“Right, well, the good news is the boys aren’t on tour for the time being, meaning there will be plenty of time to talk about the small details and how the single will come into play during planning,” he explains, happily and still so unaware, “As a matter of fact, I would like to emphasize just how much I would appreciate you including the boys, especially Eddie, in this ordeal. His participation would be very helpful.” 

Some silent form of communication happens between Matt and Eddie, glinting eyes and sudden frowns meeting raised eyebrows and fake smiles, but it’s not your concern. 

The last thing you want during this project is Eddie’s involvement. 

“Of course!” You need to think of an excuse, push for a way to keep him out, “But if Eddie is too busy, I’ll completely understand. I know that a single usually means an album, and that can be very time consum-”

“He won’t be too busy,” Matt interrupts, still staring at Eddie as if he’s daring him, not even questioning you singling him out as he does the exact same.

You recall what Eddie had insisted in the hallway, that his reach of control wasn’t as far as you had been assuming. 

Swallowing hard, you see another relic of Wayne Munson in this man – he wasn’t someone to argue with, “Right, of course. Eddie will be involved. Absolutely.” 

All the power and all the glory – but did it really rest in Eddie’s palms like you assumed?

“She has a point,” Eddie finally finds his voice, leaning back in his chair, trying to relax the tension from his shoulders, “I do have the album to work on.” 

“And now you have this. I’m sure you can find a way to multi-task.” 

Your comparison was accurate. It had been a while since you had seen another grown man capable of shutting Eddie down so quickly, tearing down his walls of affinity for challenging authority and reducing him to nothing more than a shell of his younger self. Matt and Wayne would have gotten along well. You doubt that they’ve met, but you know a bond would have formed between the common denominator of being able to subdue the once-rambunctious boy before you. 

Eddie pouts nearly the complete remainder of the meeting. And those foolish, bitter shards within you become determined to be the bigger person. To smile and nod along, even when you disagreed with certain terms discussed. To be agreeable, to be good, to be better. This new version of you has something to prove; that you’ve done better without Eddie, that you’ve changed into something that no longer aligns with who he is. 

It’s all for show, but you tell yourself no one can see through the cellophane disguise. 

The only remaining signatures aren’t required from you but the rest of the boys. A single contract is passed down the line, and each of them sign themselves away to the agreement. Line after line of swooping black ink locks the five of you into an entrapment, a crowded dance of newly made strangers who have no choice but to play pretend. 

Eddie makes it a deliberate point that he’s the last one to sign. Forces Grant to slide the prettily detailed paper right in front of him until it’s clear he’s making no move to pick up his pen, and the poor guy has to stretch a bit further and let Gareth take it rather than the stubborn rockstar. Only once Jeff’s own night-shade of ink has looped over one of the many lines does it return back to Eddie.

He looks you in the eyes for several seconds too long, pen crooked beside the paper on the table. You can’t take a single breath as you register how lifeless his eyes remain. 

He’s not the person you once knew, but you are no longer the girl that once saw the world in him. 

You will not drop to your knees before him, you will not worship the ground he walks on, you will not break. Certainly not first. Certainly not at all. 

There’s no final words before hands donning unfamiliar rings pick up a pen amongst the silence. Just the click of bringing the ink to life, and the soft scratch of promises that will not be kept. It’s nothing new amongst the two of you.

As a matter of fact, if the scratch of the pen could echo, it might just resemble the sound of the door on that haunted and vacant apartment closing for the final time behind you two years ago. 

—

“Do you two know each other?” 

You had been waiting for this moment. Once Matt had called for a quick break so that he could organize and make copies of all paperwork, you knew Lydia would be chasing you down. 

“What do you mean?” you question airily, topping off the small paper cup of water you had used as an excuse to dismiss yourself into the corner of the room, “Me and Matt? No, I’ve never-”

“Not you and Matt,” she moves to stand in front of you, your back to the room and the band, as she continues in an authoritative whisper, “You and the band – you and Eddie.”

“Why do you think we know each other?” 

Please don’t catch on. Please don’t notice. Please don’t make me admit it. 

Please don’t fire me. 

She retrieves her own water, moving as if she wasn’t having such an intense conversation with you at this moment. All a show for the clients, no doubt. You weren’t the only skilled actress in this room, “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the way you ran out of this room when you saw him, maybe the way he ran after you without a word. Maybe the way the two of you spent a good ten minutes alone in that hallway, and how the rest of that band has been looking at you like you’re a ghost. Please don’t tell me you had a fling with Eddie before this. I really need my best person on this project, but I can’t have personal relationships interferin-”

“No, we don’t know each other,” you cut her off, ignoring the compliment and taking a sip to give your chance to formulate a better addition to the lie. It wasn’t really a lie, though, was it? “I promise it’s nothing, and it won’t interfere. I just…” I just hate him. I just miss the version of him I used to know. I just need you to take me off this project as quickly as possible for a reason that won’t make you think less of me or affect my future career here. “I don’t like the band, you know this.” 

“I knew you weren’t a fan of them, but…” she trails off and looks over your shoulder, no doubt surveying the band. When you stood up from the table, they’d all been feigning boredom as if they hadn’t been taking turns staring you down so intensely. You felt like an animal under observation. “I thought it would be a good thing. To have a neutral party take this on. Why, exactly, don’t you like them?” 

“ I don’t think he’s a good person.”

He as in Eddie. It goes as unspoken knowledge. And, technically, it isn’t a lie. Based on the headlines, based on his coolness this entire interaction, you don’t think he’s a good person. Not anymore. 

You can feel the four sets of eyes on you even now. Your exchange with Lydia has been too quiet for them to hear, but you know you’re still being watched carefully.

“You don’t have to think he’s a good person, but you do need to play nice,” Lydia reminds you. You open your mouth, prepared to argue that you had been playing nice when Lydia waves her free hand to stop you, “I know, I know. I’m not saying you haven’t been perfectly professional. You have been, aside from your… bathroom break at the beginning, but please just remember that.” 

You nod, stiff as ever. She was giving you more grace than you deserved if you tried to look at it from an outsider’s point of view. 

“Of course,” that tone of professionalism, that mask to hide the whirlwind of emotions. You could do this.

You had to do this.  

Choice is an illusion when Matt returns with the copies of paperwork, dividing the files up between himself and Lydia. Choice is an illusion as fake smiles are exchanged and pleasant goodbyes are offered. Choice is nothing but smoke and mirrors when all is said and done, and the entire group of you all stand outside the conference room, ready to part ways with a promise of next time, meaning the next meeting.

You never had a choice in any of this. Eddie did, somewhere along the line, but you didn’t. 

Lydia and you both hand over business cards to Matt’s waiting hands, a deliberate move on your part. You bypass Eddie’s expectant glare entirely. The quicker this is over with, the faster he’s exiting the building and no longer occupying the same room as you, the better. 

“We’ll be in contact,” Matt promises as he tucks the cards away carefully. 

“I look forward to it,” you assure him, as if you weren’t dreading every second of what those contracts had detailed.

Three months. You had just signed on to guarantee Eddie Munson being back in your life for three months. The thought makes you nauseous. 

Matt, ever the normal person, takes it as his queue to leave. Lydia has nodded, turned and began her short trek to her office as the band’s manager starts his journey to the elevator. Most of Corroded Coffin scampers after him, gazes on the floor as they retreat to a private space that will certainly be filled with questions. You almost wish there was a way for you to hear what will be said. The topic of conversation, undoubtedly, will be you. You and Eddie, Eddie and you. A pair of intertwined souls that had taken a sharp knife to your connection only to end up with Fate cruelly retying it on this dreadful day. 

Fate, and Eddie, it seems. 

His hand reaches out and catches your upper arm before you can escape the exchange properly. 

“Can we talk?” You stare at him blankly to hide the racing of your heart and pounding in your mind. Those hands on you, skin on skin, leaving an inevitable mark. An inevitable stain. “Go for coffee, go for lunch, just-”

“No.”

You don’t have to think about your answer. Your pause was only born out of shock. 

His eyebrows furrow, “No? What do you mean no?” 

It feels like a pathetic repeat of your interaction in the hallway, when you had begged him to save you from this doomed union. Except now, you hold the cards in your hand. The first sense of control you’ve been offered this entire time. 

“I mean no,” you repeat yourself clearly. Matt is halfway down the hall, and the boys trailing right behind him seem to fumble over their steps for a second. Jeff even goes as far as to look over his shoulder at the brewing storm appearing behind them, but clearly thinks better of intruding, “I don’t want to talk. I don’t want coffee, and I don’t want lunch.” 

End of story. 

Except, it isn’t, because Eddie’s face only twists further in pain, “We have to talk at some point-”

“Actually, we don’t. I’d prefer we didn’t. I think we can both agree it’ll be better, easier, for both of us to keep this strictly professional until we can go our separate ways again.”

He looks as if you had physically reached out and struck him. The force of your words nearly makes him rock backwards, face falling and mouth agape as he tries to grapple with the determination in your words. 

If you were a fool, you’d mistake it for a flash of disappointment. But it’s not possible – it couldn’t be disappointment, only arrogance. He had obviously been assuming you would just give in. Your change just hadn’t become clear enough to him yet. It would, in time. 

And now, the two of you seemingly had too much of it to endure. 

“Actually, I think we can both agree that’s a load of bullshit,” he crassly argues back once he’s regained composure, “You know that’s not possible.”

You shake your head, suck in a bit of the skin of your inner cheek between your molars as an internal encouragement to stand your ground, “It is. It’s not only possible, but is exactly what’s going to happen.”

“You heard Matt. We have to talk at some point, even if it’s just about this and not us.”

“And we will. We can talk about this project all you want, Eddie. But not over lunch, and not over coffee,” you swear you draw blood from your cheek as you take back on that tone of professionalism, ice cold and completely disconnected, “My preferred form of contact is email. I usually respond in a timely manner, even after hours-”

“Don’t do that,” he stops you.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t talk to me like I’m just another one of your clients.” 

The metallic flavor floods the deepest corners of your mouth, overtaking the aftertaste of a honey you once knew on the back of your tongue, “That’s exactly what you are. One of my clients.” 

Just a client, and nothing more. A boundary must be drawn, or else there will be more blood spilled than a mere drop from biting your inner cheek. And you aren’t prepared to bleed for him – not again. Never again. 

He opens his mouth, as if he has more to dig out of the grave of this conversation, when Matt’s voice calls from down the hallway, “Eddie! C’mon! There’ll be time to talk later, we’ve got a meeting with the producer across town now.” 

His stance goes rigid, annoyance rolling off him in waves, eyes still focused on you. 

Maybe the reminder of time, the three month timeline, hurts him just as much as it hurts you. Maybe, just possibly, his arm has also been twisted in carving out a space for you in his life once more, whether strictly professional or not. 

He deeply exhales through his nose, “I don’t even have your email.” 

“Matt does. He has my card.”

“Yeah, he does. I don’t. How am I supposed to reach you through your preferred form of contact without it?”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” 

You mean to smile at him just as you would the owner of the bakery opening on Third Street, or the mother of a bride trying to share the weight of responsibilities for a wedding. It doesn’t come off that way, though – you can feel the sadness of it tickle the corners of your mouth before he’s even slowly turning from you.

You watch the figure of Eddie Munson walk away from you, and you begin to wish he were walking out of your life rather than only out of the building for the time being.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar

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[yanderes-galore]

May I request a romantic concept *or* alphabet for Cersei Lannister (Game of Thrones) please?

Take as much time as you need, I really started to like her around seasons 5 and 6 ^^

🕊️ anon

Sure! I kept most of the info here general due to where I am in the story. So hopefully this concept can be applied to all seasons :)

Yandere! Cersei Lannister Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Blackmail, Coercion, Threats, Sadism, Kidnapping, Imprisonment, Stalking, Mind break, Possessive behavior, Jealousy, Implied intimacy, Violence, Murder, Blood, Sexism mentioned, Forced "relationship".

You just know Cersei's one of the worst yanderes to have.

She often betrays those who trust her and only looks out for herself.

Every word out of her mouth is no doubt a lie.

Which means, even her obsession is strung along with her words and actions.

Cersei is aware of the fear people feel for her, she knows with one simple order she can have someone executed and their House either destroyed or tainted.

In fact, fear is often something she uses against her darling.

Cersei's primary way of keeping you in line is messing with your head.

Cersei would accuse you and your House of crimes you didn't commit, gaslighting you into obedience.

You may not be aware of your crimes, but she has witnesses and spies (whom she paid to go along with it... or threatened).

However, if you or your family were genuinely conspiring against her and her family...?

Great, now she can blackmail you into submission.

Essentially, Cersei will find dirt on you to have an excuse to watch you.

It doesn't matter if said dirt is real or imagined... she'll find some way to keep you under her command.

This method would also be how the queen kidnaps you for herself later on.

She's merely imprisoning you for your crimes.

Which is just a front to have you under her watch all the time.

Cersei is worse than merely a liar... she's ruthless, sadistic.

There's times she really does act like a lioness, proving true to the Lannister crest.

Cersei puts up the act of being mature and regal.

In reality, due to a lack of parenting, she's self-centered, immature, petty, a brat.

She's ambitious and short-sighted.

Cersei is willing to sacrifice a lot to get you into her arms.

In fact, she rarely even considers the consequences.

She doesn't entirely think things through.

As long as she gets her way, that's all that matters.

She doesn't care if you hate her.

Fine, you can, but she isn't letting go.

In fact, if she breaks you...

Then you can never leave her side, you'll have unwavering loyalty.

Except, Cersei doesn't even think that through half the time.

Breaking you could make you an unentertaining husk... she'd lose you.

In more ways than one if you were pushed way too far.

Cersei is dangerous to all who's around her.

She doesn't see her obsession as their own being most of the time.

She sees you as a pet, an extension of herself sometimes.

It's hard to say if the "love" she has for you is even genuine.

Where's the line when it comes to her?

Even towards her own children... "love" with her isn't love.

It feels almost like narcissistic ownership.

As queen, her word is law.

She has you under watch all the time.

She gives you your own chambers at first, a guard always by your door to prevent escape.

But soon enough she's trying to convince you to share her chambers, just to have you within arm reach.

If you disobey her, she disregards chambers all together.

You can sit in a cell for all she cares.

You'd still be hers.

Those close to you are threatened, used for bargaining, or outright executed.

What better way to gain compliance than using those close to you as a way to bargain.

She knows you're close to your House, she knows you have friends...

She knows you had past lovers... perhaps even children...

Cersei is not afraid to sacrifice everything you hold dear if it means your loyalty and obedience is only towards her.

She's petty and impossible to reason with.

She cares little when you cry at the sight of all the blood.

Or when she tells you she had someone's head mounted on a pike for being too close to you.

In fact, Cersei would demolish your House and home if it meant you had to rely on her.

You can't disobey if you have nothing to fight for, right?

Cersei is no doubt seductive and flirtatious towards you.

She has seduced many to garner their loyalty.

To her, this isn't about love.

This is about power and control...

Cersei's a megalomaniac, power means everything.

She wants to prove to others that they should fear her.

She may be no man, but she's got power and is ruthless all the same.

She gains sadistic pleasure when watching you bend the knee for her.

In fact... she just likes it when you're on your knees.

Cersei is easily jealous and possessive.

Her jealous and selfish attitude is the reason blood is spilled.

She does offer to wipe your tears when you see her kill another who's close to you... picking them off one by one like she did Robert Baratheon's illegitimates...

Yet afterwards she tells you not to shed anymore for them.

To Cersei, she owns all of you.

Your tears, your blood, everything...

You can't stop her.

When she lures you in close with promises of seduction and pardons for supposed crimes... she then locks you up.

You get to be stuck in a cell for her entertainment.

If you're lucky and obey, she'll reward you.

She'll give you little kisses, an affectionate touch anywhere you want.

She'll gladly use seduction to keep you hooked on her... to rely on her.

Perhaps even let you out and make you her royal pet.

She doesn't need a ring to keep you as hers.

She just needs threats, coercion, and sweet little praises to make you loyal.

Resist all you want, she'll break you down all the same.

She's the queen, she gets what she wants.

She proves that to you countless times, kissing you hungrily with a bruising grip.

She doesn't resort to whining to make you love her.

She simply takes what she wants, because you are hers.

It doesn't matter if her "love" for you is mutual or not...

She'll take you for herself all the same.

[covid-safer-hotties]

Brigham and Women’s study: Drug-free nasal spray could protect against COVID, flu - Published Sept 25, 2024

The problem with such drugs is that they do not and cannot work in the throat and lung, other notable infection sites of both these viruses. Masking remains the best way to protect yourself from airborne pathogens, but this is an interesting development for prophylaxis. Studies have shown that neuro-covid symptoms are worst for people whose ACE2 receptors in the sinuses were infected. This could help combat that. The idea that it could also offer drug-free protection from allergens is also interesting. Further study is needed.

By Grace Zokovitch

A new study found a new drug-free nasal spray may protect against respiratory infections like COVID and the flu, according to Brigham and Women’s Hospital.

“The COVID pandemic showed us what respiratory pathogens can do to humanity in a very short time,” said Jeffrey Karp, co-senior author of the study and chair in Anesthesiology at Brigham and Women’s Hospital. “That threat hasn’t gone away.

“We need new, additional ways to protect ourselves and reduce the transmission of the disease,” Karp added.

The preclinical studies show the nasal spray called Pathogen Capture and Neutralizing Spray or PCANS may be able to block respiratory illnesses, the hospital announced. The study was done out of Brigham and Women’s Hospital and published in the journal Advanced Materials.

The hospital stated that protection methods like vaccines and masks can be beneficial but aren’t perfect, noting that “influenza and COVID-19 infections cause thousands of deaths and hundreds of thousands of cases of severe disease every year.”

Most viruses enter through human’s noses, the release stated, spreading when infected people breathe out tiny droplets of fluid. Healthy people inhale the droplets, the hospital said, infecting “cells that line the nasal passageways.”

Researchers formulated the nasal spray to stop the infection in the nose using ingredients that the FDA has approved for use in other nasal sprays or determined safe. The spray was tested in a laboratory setting using replicas of human noses and mice and has not been tested on humans.

“We developed a drug-free formulation using these compounds to block germs in three ways — PCANS forms a gel-like matrix that traps respiratory droplets, immobilizes the germs, and effectively neutralizes them, preventing infection,” said co-senior author Nitin Joshi, an Assistant Professor of Anesthesiology.

When sprayed in a nasal cavity replica, the release stated, “PCANS captured twice as many droplets as mucus alone.” Mice treated with the spray showed it block the influenza virus at 25 times the lethal dose, giving them “complete protection,” researchers said.

“PCANS forms a gel, increasing its mechanical strength by a hundred times, forming a solid barrier,” said primary author John Joseph, a former postdoctoral fellow at Brigham and Women’s Hospital.

“It blocked and neutralized almost 100% of all viruses and bacteria we tested, including Influenza, SARS-CoV-2, RSV, adenovirus, K Pneumonia and more.”

Researchers added that the inflammatory cells and cytokines in the lungs of animals treated with the spray were “normal.”

The hospital stated that the study “provides a strong foundation for future research” into PCANS and researchers are already exploring whether the spray may block allergens.

[elodee]

HERMIT A DAY MAY - DAY 5

TinFoilChef x The Lord of the Rings (1978)

For TFC, I chose Ralph Bakshi's animated 1978 adaptation of The Lord of the Rings. I picked this one for TFC because he always made me think of Tolkein dwarves (what with the beard and the love of mining) and I wanted to draw him content and taking a rest in a cave. Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings, with its beautiful painted backgrounds, was the perfect fit here. If you want to learn more about Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings and see my reference images, take a look under the cut! (And of course, don't forget about the fundraiser for Gamers Outreach! Today is the BONUS DAY DOLLAR DRIVE so go throw in a dollar if you can!)

Ralph Bakshi's 1978 The Lord of the Rings is the direct origin of many of the designs and visual concepts that would later be used in Peter Jackson's The Lord of the Rings. While I love both adaptations, Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings is much lesser known now and overshadowed by the live-action movies, which is genuinely a shame. The movie covers the events of The Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers but the final Return of the King installment was never made. The animation is visually interesting and a little strange, since it uses traditional cartoon cell animation in combination with rotoscoping. The animation is overlaid on a series of atmospheric painted backgrounds which creates a beautifully surreal viewing experience. I watched Bakshi's The Lord of the Rings as a kid with my family and I just want more people to see and appreciate it too.

Style references:

The animated characters don't have any shading in most scenes and stand out from the very dynamically shaded backgrounds. There is a wide range of character designs in the movie, but for TFC I followed the design choices seen in the human characters and Gimli.

The backgrounds for the movie are stunning. This image in particular is actually concept art for the Mines of Moria, but it is in line with actual backgrounds from the movie and I really liked it so I used it as my primary inspiration for TFC's cave.

The 1978 The Lord of the Rings title design

[legendaryturtletheorist]

Understanding Cancer Cells: A Comprehensive Overview

Introduction:

Cancer cells are the fundamental units of cancer, a complex and diverse group of diseases that affect millions of people worldwide. In this article, we will delve into the intriguing world of cancer cells, exploring their characteristics, behavior, and significance in cancer development. Understanding these cellular villains is crucial for advancing our knowledge and improving treatment strategies for this devastating disease.

What are cancer cells?

Cancer cells are abnormal cells that grow and divide uncontrollably, evading the body's natural mechanisms of growth regulation. Unlike normal cells, which have a specific lifespan and perform specialized functions, cancer cells have altered genetic material that allows them to bypass these regulatory mechanisms. This enables them to proliferate rapidly and form tumors, disrupting the normal functioning of organs and tissues.

Characteristics of cancer cells:

Cancer cells possess several distinctive characteristics that set them apart from healthy cells:

a) Uncontrolled growth: Cancer cells divide rapidly and continuously, leading to the formation of a mass of abnormal cells known as a tumor.

b) Invasion and metastasis: Cancer cells can invade surrounding tissues and spread to distant sites through the bloodstream or lymphatic system, forming secondary tumors in a process called metastasis.

c) Genetic instability: Cancer cells often accumulate genetic mutations and alterations that drive their abnormal behavior, allowing them to evade cell death signals and promote uncontrolled growth.

d) Angiogenesis: Cancer cells have the ability to stimulate the formation of new blood vessels, ensuring a blood supply that supports their rapid growth and survival.

Origins of cancer cells:

Cancer cells can arise from various sources within the body:

a) Somatic mutations: These mutations occur in the DNA of normal, non-reproductive cells during a person's lifetime. Exposure to carcinogens, genetic predispositions, and environmental factors can contribute to the development of somatic mutations that lead to cancer.

b) Inherited mutations: In some cases, individuals inherit specific genetic mutations from their parents, which significantly increase their risk of developing certain types of cancer.

c) Stem cells: Stem cells, which have the capacity to differentiate into different cell types, can also give rise to cancer cell if they acquire genetic mutations that disrupt their normal regulation and behavior.

Importance of studying cancer cells:

Studying cancer cells plays a vital role in advancing our understanding of cancer and developing effective treatment approaches. Some key reasons include:

a) Targeted therapies: By examining the specific genetic and molecular characteristics of cancer cells, researchers can develop targeted therapies that selectively attack cancer cells while minimizing damage to healthy cells.

b) Early detection: Understanding the unique features of cancer cells helps in the development of early detection methods, enabling prompt intervention and improved patient outcomes.

c) Personalized medicine: Analyzing the genetic makeup of cancer cells can aid in tailoring treatments to individual patients, optimizing efficacy and reducing side effects.

d) Biomarkers: Identifying specific molecules or genetic markers associated with cancer cells can assist in the development of diagnostic tools and monitoring techniques.

Conclusion:

Cancer cells are at the core of cancer development and progression. Understanding their characteristics, behavior, and origins is crucial for developing effective prevention, early detection, and treatment strategies. Ongoing research continues to unravel the complexities of cancer cells, bringing hope for improved outcomes and ultimately a world without cancer.

[swaps55]

Just wanted to say, regarding female characters - one of the strengths of Opus is the combination of Aslany and Pendergrass. One of my pet peeves is the rule of The Trio - almost exclusively, two guys and one girl. Han, Luke and Leia. Harry, Ron and Hermione. Katniss, Peeta, and Gale. Aang, Katara and Sokka. Ash, Misty and Brock. Every 3-man cell in Naruto. And so on. There's some overlap with love triangles - Bella, Edward and Jacob, for example - but the upshot is that the main character relationships can only explore how the guys get along with each other, and how they get along with the girl. How girls relate to each other is skipped over entirely because there's only one girl.

Then, the one girl is often relegated to being The Girl. Answerable for all womanhood. Like when Ron gets offside with his friends, it's because he's being a dick. But if Hermione does, it's because girls are weird. It perpetuates the two genders of Normal and Girl, and the reader is invited to sympathize with how hard it is for the Normals to relate to the feminine mystique of girls. But of course, girls are mysterious when they're never portrayed together, just existing. Normally.

Opus has two wonderful lead female characters who aren't so easily pigeonholed, and the story is as invested in how they play off each other as how any of the others interact. The thoughtfulness in what makes all the characters tick, and how they serve the story really comes through and makes it more engaging. And then there's Hannah, a powerhouse of a minor character in just a few scenes, you know she's my fave.

Fanfic is an adjustment after conventional fiction - it's more diverse, and the sheer novelty can provoke a kneejerk "why did they make that character [anything other than straight cis white]?" Not because there's anything wrong with it, but because it's new. But in sci fi especially, there's a verisimilitude to diversity.

This unexpectedly turned into a bit of novel, sorry! Aslany and Pendergrass are great!

Oh gosh, thank you!!!

Aslany and Pendergrass are so much fun and so very important to me, and it's absolutely incredible that they strike such a chord with others. I share your frustration on how often a solitary female character is expected to represent all women. "The Two Genders: Normal and Girl" is an amazing way to put it.

I've probably mentioned it before, but I have rules in Opus when it comes to supporting and background characters: they cannot be cis, white, male unless I have a good argument for why they should be, and to combat my biases when it comes to defaulting to male background characters (and BioWare's inability to conceive of female alien who aren't a sex fantasy), I try to start with female as default and then argue for why someone should be male.

And Opus, of course, is a story centered around a male/male relationship, which means I need to make a concerted effort to include women and their stories around that central through line. I wanted some of Sam's primary influences - good and bad - to be women. Hence Hannah Shepard, Guthra Tulak, and Anya Oseguera.

When it came to the 'Yang, I knew I already had two male lead characters, so I wanted to balance them out. Of the primary 'Yang OCs, only Clay Beaudoin is male, and he isn't white.

Okay, there's Wong, but because he's a plot device and effectively got fridged, I wanted him to be male. XD

Hannah Shepard is a lot of fun (I love how much you love her SO MUCH) because she takes so much blame for things most male characters don't. In many ways she's a parallel to Thane, who never takes much flak for being an absent father. Now, that's not something the reader should be blamed for: the ME2 narrative centers around Thane's perspective, which makes you sympathetic to him, while Opus very much looks at Hannah through Sam's lens, which makes her very unsympathetic. Which is why I so enjoy her occasional POVs when you realize that the world looks very different through her eyes, and maybe everything you're led to believe about her isn't the whole picture.

But Aslany and Pendergrass are really special, with their own motivations and complexities and strengths and flaws that, while sometimes making Opus more challenging to write, make it better. I'm really glad people have latched onto them, because it gives me more freedom to expand their role in the overall narrative.

[kosheeka]

Immortal Cell Line

Although cell lines are easy to work with, the physiological relevance of those studies might not be high. They do not show resemblance to human body metabolism and physiology, or even morphology. The immortalization and serial passaging cause several variations in genotype and phenotype of these cells. Due to the lack of morphological or functional features, cell lines might not be able to induce relevant biomarkers. Therefore, it is always better to validate cell lines before use to make sure they are not misidentified or contaminated.

For more info on advantages and disadvantages of primary cells in culture, read here.

[wheelie-sick]

What is Idiopathic Mast Cell Activation Syndrome?

Idiopathic Mast cell activation syndrome (MCAS) is one of several mast cell disorders. MCAS occurs when there are a normal number of mast cells in a person's body but they over-release mast cell mediators causing random allergic reactions in multiple systems of the body. MCAS is incredibly common being present in an estimated 17% of the population.

Symptoms

MCAS symptoms are incredibly varied and always occur in multiple systems of the body. Anaphylaxis is common.

[ID: A graphic labeled "Some common symptoms of Mast Cell Disease" A graphic of a person standing in the center with multiple organs visible is shown. Around the person are lines pointing to specific areas of the body labeled with the body system and symptoms. Clockwise these read "Neurological headache, brain fog, cognitive dysfunction, anxiety, depression Cutaneous (Skin) flushing of the face/neck/chest, hives, skin rashes, itching with or without rash Cardiovascular light-heartedness, syncope (fainting), rapid heart rate, chest pain, low blood pressure, high blood pressure at the start of a reaction, blood pressure instability Gynecological uterine cramps, bleeding Urinary bladder irritability, frequent voiding Systemic and/or organ specific Anaphylaxis angioedema (swelling) Skeletal bone/muscle pain, osteopenia, osteoporosis Gastrointestinal diarrhea, nausea, vomiting, abdominal pain, bloating, gastroesophageal reflux disease (GERD) Ear/Nose/Throat/Respiratory nasal itching and congestion, throat itching and swelling, wheezing, shortness of breath and more" In the bottom left corner "Symptoms can be sudden and unpredictable in onset learn more at tmsforacure.org"]

MCAS symptoms are specifically not allergies. the reactions may look like allergies but the two are not the same and MCAS is not a condition meaning "many allergies" While MCAS can have some consistent triggers one of the defining features of the disease is that reactions are random and happen unpredictably.

Anaphylactic shock is not a requirement for diagnosis.

Diagnosis

MCAS is diagnosed by an immunologist. It is in part a diagnosis of exclusion and requires ruling out both allergies and systemic mastocytosis as well as other conditions such as certain types of tumors.

Diagnostic criteria for MCAS is debated. Some immunologists follow the symptom-based diagnosis approach in which case the diagnostic criteria are:

Recurring and severe anaphylactic-like episodes that involve more than one organ system

and

Positive response to mast cell stabilizing or mediator medications anaphylaxis-type symptoms

Others follow diagnostic criteria based on laboratory findings. In this case the diagnostic criteria are:

Episodic symptoms consistent with mast cell mediator release affecting two or more organ systems evidenced as follows:

Skin: urticaria, angioedema, flushing

Gastrointestinal: nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, abdominal cramping

Cardiovascular: hypotensive syncope or near syncope, tachycardia

Respiratory: wheezing

Naso-ocular: conjunctival injection, pruritus, nasal stuffiness

and

A decrease in the frequency or severity; or resolution of symptoms with anti-mediator therapy: H1 and H2 histamine receptor antagonists, anti-leukotriene medications (cysLT receptor blockers or 5-LO inhibitor), or mast cell stabilizers (cromolyn sodium)

and

Evidence of an elevation in a validated urinary or serum marker of mast cell activation: Documentation of elevation of the marker above the patient’s baseline during a symptomatic period on at least two occasions; or if baseline tryptase levels are persistently >15ng, documentation of elevation of the tryptase above baseline on one occasion. Total serum tryptase is recommended as the markers of choice; less specific (also from basophils) 24 hour urine histamine metabolites, or 11-beta-prostaglandin F2.

and

Primary (clonal) and secondary disorders of mast cell activation ruled out.

These are not all proposed diagnostic criteria as the subject is heavily debated. Generally, a laboratory-confirmed MCAS diagnosis is considered more legitimate.

Treatment

MCAS is a very treatable condition. Generally treatment follows a path from antihistamines -> mast cell mediators -> biologics.

Epipens are given to MCAS patients with a history of anaphylaxis.

Antihistamines are divided into 2 categories: H1 antagonists and H2 antagonists. These categories are determined based on the histamine receptor each one targets.

H1 antagonists mostly deal with systemic and cutaneous symptoms. H1 antagonists are also further divided into first and second generation antihistamines. first generation antihistamines include diphenhydramine (Benadryl) and Hydroxyzine. These tend to cause drowsiness. With second generation H1 antagonists cause fewer side effects and include drugs like loratadine (Claritin) and cetirizine (Zyrtec)

H2 antagonists primarily affect the gastrointestinal tract and include medications like famotidine (pepcid)

Typically when treating MCAS a person will be put on both a second generation H1 antagonist and an H2 antagonist.

When antihistamines do not treat symptoms well enough the next step is a mast cell mediator. The most common mast cell mediator is cromolyn sodium which is available by prescription only. (this is technically available OTC but it is at 1/50th the dose used for MCAS) Mast cell mediators work by preventing the degranulation of mast cells in the first place.

When both antihistamines and mast cell mediators are insufficient someone with MCAS might be prescribed a biologic such as Xolair to treat their remaining symptoms.

Sources:

American Academy of Allergy, Asthma, and Immunology

Mast Cell Hope

Mast Cell Activation Syndrome: Proposed Diagnostic Criteria

[tobiasdrake]

Does Perfect Cell have Agency?

Cell is... difficult to get a read on, as a character. The extreme jankiness of the Android arc left us with an oddball of a villain whose level of wickedness doesn't seem in line with the scope of his motives.

Cell is a weird character for me because he just seems... unfinished but also overly symbolic moreso than a literal person.

What does PIccolo actually want? He wants to kill everyone because he's mindlessly evil. After he reincarnates, the question "What does Piccolo actually want?" becomes a major facet of his journey.

What does Frieza actually want? He wants to kill planets and sell them for profit because he's a real estate speculator, and also to be immortal and untouchable. This extreme want coupled with the callousness with which he pursues it is what fuels his unbelievable cruelty and heartlessness, and makes him the most evil person in the Dragon Ball universe.

What does Majin Buu want? Again, this question becomes a major facet of his journey and opens up new sides to him, because Buu himself doesn't know the answer to that.

Which. Brings us to. What does Cell want?

He likes to spook. He wants to have fun. He's a spooker looking for a good time.

Cell's primary goal is to a) become really strong, and then b) prove his mettle by testing himself against the greatest fighters in the world. He's a tournament arc villain presented with the gravitas and stakes of an epic adventure villain.

It's wild because everybody here wants to get really strong and then prove their mettle by fighting Goku. That's what this whole social dynamic is about. That is literally the main goal that everyone in this group pursues. Well, except Trunks and Gohan.

In a sense, Cell's just... one of the guys. Like. He's a rotten dirty bastard to be sure. But it's not like that's a barrier for entry into this group.

"I WILL KILL AS MANY PEOPLE AS I HAVE TO AS LONG AS YOU ARE ONE OF THEM!" ~TFS

So his goal is to get strong and fight strong guys. But. Like. Who's isn't?

And he's a cruel, sadistic monster. But. Like. We're fine with that. Vegeta's our bestie and Piccolo joined this crew way before he reformed too.

This guy could legit just be hosting the Tenkaichi Budokai. (And he DOES.) In terms of overarching character, nothing about him reads "Epic villain that must be stopped at all costs". So Toriyama really had to ratchet up the moment-by-moment horror to make him fit.

What Cell wants is not that big a deal. Get strong, fight strong guys, and also he's an asshole about it. So he's given a vile mechanism for attaining the strength he needs. In his base state, Cell can drink people to gain their power for himself.

He's basically Piccolo if Piccolo were born a parasitic vampire instead of a flesh-and-blood Namekian? It's weird. His whole introduction where he walks out and explains his entire character so Toriyama's pal will get off his back about the Twins is weird.

"Hi there, Piccolo. Did you know that I'm an evil bio-android from the future who wants to absorb the Twins to become really powerful? Also I eat people and I have the genetic makeup of five of the most powerful warriors in the universe, as well as having all of their techniques and abilities. I think that about covers everything. Toodles!"

So we have a character whose primary goal is to defeat the two characters who, up until this point, were billed as the antagonists and are currently seeking to kill Goku as we speak. Like. That's Trunks. Cell is Trunks again. So to make it read as sinister and bad, the means for him to achieve Trunks's goal requires him to kill people in visceral and horrifying ways, and also he's a jerk about it.

This is far from the worst thing a Dragon Ball character, even the ones on the protagonist side, has ever done. But it's so viscerally horrifying that it feels like the worst thing they've ever done.

Then again, that guy was part of the 1% so maybe it's deserved.

Truly, Cell is a champion of the underclass. He's literally eating the rich. What's not to like?

I jest. Point is, Cell is a villain of vibes more than anything. In practical terms, Vegeta gleefully slaughtered entire planets and Majin Buu exterminated 80% of the world's population for fun. In fact, Buu even single-targets people and turns them into food to chomp down on too, so he and Cell have a lot in common.

To be perfectly honest, Buu feels like a second draft of Cell with more time and thought put into his character.

So, logically, eating a bunch of people isn't that big of a deal relative to some of the other shit that people we're hanging out with have done. Hell, we spend a portion of this arc helping to power up Vegeta to stop Mr. City Devourer over here.

"Hey best buddy, you're a remorseless monster who's slaughtered billions of people and is only chill now because you're stranded on Earth with no better options. Want to come with me so we can make you a hundred times deadlier and fight this guy who wants to eat the Androids that destroyed the world in the future?"

And then Cell's over here like.

"All done eating people. Thanks y'all." Like a parasitic version of the Genki-Dama. Uh. Cool. Glad we could help. Let's go Dragon Balls them all back to life and then I guess we're done here?

It's the vibe. Cell's wickedness is a vibe. It's in the means he needs to undergo to achieve the ends of becoming strong. It's in the sadistic personality he shares with 4/5 of his genetic makeup (two of whom are in the protag party). And it's in his long-term plans for what to do after the tournament when he runs out of strong guys to fight.

It's like they ran out of ideas for why we even need to fight this guy once he ate the Androids and completed our mission of defeating them and thwarting Trunks's future. So Cell's like, "By the way if we don't defeat me in an epic climax, I'm going to aimlessly wander the globe killing humans individually forever, I guess."

No real ambitions of any kind beyond "Get strong, fight strong guys". He just. Is a dick.

This is sandwiched between vanquishing the CEO of Galactic Genocide Incorporated and fighting a god-killing abomination who made the heavens themselves run red with blood. Cell wants to get strong and fight strong guys, and he'll become Jason Voorhees if we don't deliver. That's it. That's the entire plot. It's so weird. He's the ultimate despicable monster villain up to this point but it doesn't really feel like he should be.

Cell isn't really a character, so much as he is an idea. Specifically, he is a summary of Goku's entire journey up to this point, all rolled up into this one asshole. He is Goku, and also the major villains Goku has fought.

He is the Tenkaichi Budokai.

He's a limit-breaking Super Saiyan who becomes stronger through Namekian Fusion of others like him and also regenerates and gets Zenkai boosts.

He is the concept of everything that Dragon Ball has ever been.

Hey remember when Piccolo-Daimao blew up that one district during a live broadcast? Do you remember? Cell is Playing the Hits, The Character. But with purpose and intent.

This is why it's hard for me to get a read on Cell. Because who he is isn't so different from much of the cast but what he needs to be is something else: He is the complete assessment of the journey Goku's undertaken over the course of his life, presented all at once for Gohan to surpass.

The physical embodiment of what Gohan must overcome to be his father's successor.

His character, his motives, his ambitions, his desires, it all takes a backseat to the simple utilitarian purpose of providing a symbolic nemesis to mark Gohan's ascension. Hastily assembled once Toriyama decided that was going to be the real actual plot for realsies no takebacks this time.

It's hard for me to assess Cell because I feel too strongly that he needed a second draft.

Which. Like. Apparently Toriyama agreed.

As a character and as a story, Majin Buu is hit or miss but he hits most of the same beats as Cell and really does feel like Toriyama trying to take a mulligan on this entire villain concept.

Mileage may vary on whether he pulled it off.

[potatoparakeet]

Some of my meet the Robinsons headcanons 🫣 cause my head is full of em. A lot of these r kinda worldbuildy but some are Robinson family based!

-I'm a believer that Franny went to school for bio-engineering (and music ofc) and put all of that knowledge towards her frogs. Maybe she even had a successful lab of her own before finally succeeding with the band, and left it to conduct full time.

- I don't think Lazlos paint gun would shoot random art, but rather Lazlo would have to manually program a painting into it somehow, and trial-and-error test it until it looks perfect.

- Billies train system through the house is Uncle Joe's primary mode of transportation across the bigger stretches of the estate.

- Along w the hover-chairs, there's a Robinson brand of wheelchairs and crutches that can fold/unfold to travel through the travel tubes and be sensed by the bubbles!

- Robinson industries is obviously the top of the line when it comes to tech products, but there are also other companies that sell similar products. The Samsungs to Cornelius's Apple.

- Future City/Todayland is Not Named That. I don't have any better ideas but both of those ain't it

- Nonetheless I think it became the biggest city in the country just due to it being the first to take on Niels cityscaping inventions. It's kind of his personal playground in that sense

- In that breath I also think there's many places in the country that just Aren't that advanced. I imagine public transportation has majorly improved but in many cities life hasn't changed all too much.

- I think it'd be interesting for Robinson Industries to have people who just HATE the things they do. Look at those instant-buildings and tell me the construction working community didn't freak out.

- imo 2037 (from what we see) seems technologically advanced in the way that people would be able to return to art- but the transition period was definitely rough as people started losing jobs to Neils tech.

- I don't know if Niel would make many robots to be sold commercially- not with the problem of AI vs humans.

- In tiny text of a concept art in the art book you can read that Cornelius created "Robinson™ Blue/Green fuel cells" which are the "world's first renewable clean-burning fuel source" source.

- If we accept that as canon and assume all the new flying cars were fueled with this energy source, we can pretty much assume ground cars went extinct pretty quickly, unless other car manufacturers and gas companies were still allowed to produce.

- Probably by 2037 the use of gas has been banned, leaving only the souly electric ground cars, which probably weren't enough to run whole businesses on. With flying cars as the new norm, roads were likely torn up.

- I don't imagine the whole car switch thing went over well with the public either tbh. I would not be happy if Some Guy told me I couldn't buy gas anymore and had to take the airbus.

- I could have sworn it was canon that Niel had won at least one nobel peace award. Does anyone else remember that