#stationary x ray

[ncx-tec]

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[adventuringblind]

Oscar the Matchmaker: Part Two

Oscar Jack Piastri x Reader x Max Verstappen

Genre: series

Summary: Oscar struggles with the aftermath of Alpine and a rough start of the season

Warnings: Toxic work place

Notes: I’m using alpine drama as a plot point. Also they call Oscar Jack because lord it’s such a cute nickname he has.

Previous <-

Masterlist

The fact that two rookies are enjoying the luxury that comes with being a world champion is completely ridiculous.

Max loves to spoil them. Mainly because is makes them shy as they try to turn down his offers. He’s stubborn though and usually gives them no other choice but to relent.

Now he’s spoiling them with sleep. They all love sleep. All the time. It’s one of their favorite activities.

Max however, is not sleeping, just resting. His mind moving but his body remains stationary.

Oscar shoots out of the bed faster then Max can register. The Aussie is practically silent as he does it.

The Dutch is quick to follow him. Gently kissing the forehead of the girl still asleep before leaving the room.

Oscar is pacing back and forth, his hands tugging at his hair. He looks to Max as if he’s trying to seem productive and yet not getting anywhere simultaneously.

“Jack?”

He jumps at the sound of Max’s voice. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“No, I was already awake, just to lazy to move.” Max drags him over to the couch. “Wanna talk about what’s going on in your head?” If there is one thing Max has learned about the Australian, it’s that he’s calm and collected outside and a whirl whine on the inside.

“I just panicked. It’s Tuesday.” He sighs.

A sleepy eyed female walks into the room and drapes herself over them. The two males practically use her as a blanket. “Tuesdays are Alpine meeting days.” Her voice may be sleepy, but the venom in her voice doesn’t go unheard. Max threads his fingers through her hair that is splayed messily across his lap.

"So muscle memory?" Asks the confused Dutch.

Oscar starts fumbling around with his words. "Well - no, it's just that- Alpine weren't the best to me, I guess." His fingers find his hair and run the back if his neck raw.

The confusion turns into concern as Max goes wide-eyed. He knows all the drama that happened. There were countless nights on the phone with Daniel about it. That was Max's first impression of the rookie. The fact he apologized to Daniel for taking his spot and being a hindrance to him.

"He'd gotten in trouble for over sleeping once, and it was absolutely hell. I had half a mind to report them to the FIA." The girl on their lap is flushing with frustration now, her knuckles turning white from her fist tightening around nothing.

Max could see the memories flooding the Australians eyes. He leans over to him and kisses the top of his head. "It makes sense now why you avoid them like the plague."

"They are the plague."

The witty comments sometimes shock the two. The girl is usually quiet around people she doesn't know and is kind for the most part. However, she's also protective.

Max and Oscar chuckle at her antics. Watching her carefully drift in and out of sleep.

~

The next race weekend, they walk in together. It's not uncommon since her and Oscare are practically attached at the hip, but Max is new. They just tell people it's a coincidence.

Oscar has always walked her to her garage. Currently, it's towards the end of the paddock. Meaning they have to pass Alpine to get to it.

Max takes not of how Oscar refuses to look anywhere but the ground. He can't see the female since she's on the other side of Oscar, but he can hear her seething.

The Australian visibly relaxs when they are past.

It sucks saying goodbye to her. They woke up this morning, and it felt perfect. The morning rays leak through the window, limbs tangled up in each other. None of them wanted to get up or leave.

Now, the first had gone off to work, and Max and Oscar were left to walk back down.

Max makes it a point to walk on the side closest to the hospitality entries. He doesn't say anything as they near the door. Some of the guys in charge meandering around right outside.

"I know what you're doing." Says the Australian.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Max looks at him and winks. Somehow, the action calmed Oscar's overreacting brain.

Max waved off Oscar as he jogged to catch up with Lando. The Brit shot him a few confused glances. The ones that said he has questions.

Lando may he an idiot, but he's not as oblivious as everyone thinks he is.

Max leaves that for another day.

~

She knew something was off with the Austr as soon as he entered the room. They're all exhausted from the race, but he was completely void of life.

There's no goofy smiles or sarcastic jokes. Just Oscar, sitting on the bed staring at the wall. She can see him processing something. Whatever it is, it can't be good.

She looks at Max. The Dutch just stares at her with confusion. She'd learned that his upbringing made him mildly clueless when it came to dealing with emotion.

With that in mind, she sets off to Oscar's side. She sits down next to him and takes his hand in her own. "Jack, you gotta talk to us." She signals Max with her eyes to sit on the other side of him. Good thing she's not clueless or they would be in trouble.

"It's stupid drama stuff."

"It's not stupid if it's making you upset." She puncuates with a kiss on his cheek.

"Stupid Alpine and their stupid comments. Apparently, I am not the most expensive but terrible rookie to ever be signed." He sighs. They can hear how he tries to pass it off, but they both know he's lying.

"Lies and slander. You're the best rookie this season. You're driving a tractor right now for fucks sake." Max says.

"Logically, I know that. Emotionally, I don't."

"And you're not required to know that yet, technically speaking." She counters, causing the Australian to roll his eyes.

Max chuckles to himself. “I could crash my car into their garage if you really want me too.”

“As funny as that sounds, I would rather you win if neither of us can even get close.”

“…at least you two are consistently in the points!”

~

Tuesday again. They all lay asleep in bed together. Max opens his eyes for a moment and catches the females gaze.

She places a finger over her lips and points at Oscar. The Australian breathing evenly, sound asleep.

[starryhutcherson]

clapton davis fic where hes just like, super flirty and its really cute and the reader is oblivious to this but eventually clapton is like "damn it why cant you get the hint" so he opens up to the reader?&;&:& tysmm

━━ UNSUBTLE SUBTILITY

'୧ ‧₊ pairing: clapton davis x reader warnings: swearing, brief depictions of blood word count: 2500+ ⋆ ✩‧₊

The presence of Spring in Grizzly Lake brought a lot of things; including sporadic bursts of heaven-yellow sunlight, greenery spiraled across branches of previously barren tree skeletons, and, most importantly for students of Grizzly Lake High School, the promise of the Spring Fling Formal that was set to occur in the midst of May. 

For Clapton, this prom meant one thing; achieving his goal that’s been looming over him since freshman year — ask you out. Theoretically it’s a simple process, but if it was truly as easy as it sounds it would have occurred the very moment his eyes landed on your figure that first day in beginner spanish. 

You were the embodiment of perfection, punctuated through your gleaming smile that enraptured anyone in a ten mile radius, and the way the sun seemed to spread across the expanse of your cheeks, soaking you in the rays of heaven itself. Clapton was about ready to propose that day, and he didn’t even know your name. 

Now, roughly two years later, he was still amidst the same dilemma, the one in which he actually had to do the asking-out part. He was sure by now you would have picked up on his inherently obvious attempts to entice you, but you remained oblivious, so he decided he’d have to fully commit if he wanted to capture your attention. The art of unsubtle subtility, if you will. 

And so, forty three minutes into the depths of an agonizingly dull pre-calculus lesson, he confidently taps your shoulder with a fractionally tense hand, and indulges the tug on his heartstrings when you turn around, framed by the delicate glow of mid-morning spring that he adores so much. 

“Something wrong, Clapton?” Your voice cleaves through the classroom ambience of idle chatter and textbook pages being flipped. He flashes a boyish smile in hopes to flutter your heart in the same way you flutter his. 

“Do you get any of these questions?” 

“Yeah, they’re not too bad,” you reply, offering an ephemeral that renders his throat tight. 

He glanced down momentarily at his worksheet, adorned in scrawls and scribbles, yet lacking a single legible answer. His vision trains up back to you though, as it always does. He thought you’d easily detect the unspoken question for your help, but you remained stationary in your seat, as if waiting for him to say it. He couldn’t tell if you were genuinely that heedless, or if you were toying with him. Cat and mouse. 

“Seriously? When did they even teach us all this?”

You shrug mindlessly, and a lock of hair shifts from its position on your shoulder. He’d give anything to rope his fingers through it. “A while back. Why, you need some help?” 

Yes. He’d like your help, your compassion, your hand in marriage…

“Wanna walk me through it?” He tosses you a hopeful expression, and you answer back with a simple nod, sliding your chair along the cheap linoleum floor with a scrape, until the pair of you are sharing his desk, impossibly close. 

Your velvet voice is stringing sentences right down the expanse of his spine, though your attempts to help him understand logarithmic differentiation were ultimately futile— how was he supposed to concentrate on anything when he could feel your words blooming on his skin? See every freckle and divot etched into your face? He could taste his own heartbeat as it melded against his throat.

“So, this helps to avoid complications like the product rule and the quotient rule when— Clapton?”

He cocks his head up, trying to ignore the swell in his stomach when he hears the way his name sounds braided between your sentences, it suits your voice so well.

“Yeah? What’s up?” 

“Are you even listening?”  

Shit, no he absolutely wasn’t. How could he? Your proximity allowed him to see you. Like, properly see you. 

“Yeah. Totally. Logaramic thingyation,” he murmurs with overt certainty, and a puppylike grin. 

You snicker. “Couldn’t even get the name right?” 

He’s internally collapsing, though he manages to force some words out of his struggling brain. 

“Hard to think when you’re here.” He doesn’t dare sever the eye contact between you, hoping to hone the tension as long as possible, until he shatters you. His lopsided grin shrinks in a moment of brevity; you’re so close and he can smell you and your very essence. He’s sure that his ulterior motive is conveyed, through the way his eyes explore the breadth of your figure, never leaving, never faltering— yet to his pure irritation, all he gets is a blank expression and a confused chuckle. 

“Why is that?” You ask, and he wants to grab you by your shoulders and shake you. Are you really that dense? Your face is about as expressive as a rock, and you seem not even partially affected by the flirty wink he sent your way moments prior. 

“You’re kidding, right? Come on.” He fires back, raising a brow with a daring smirk. He wants you to inquire. You don’t. He realizes that trying to get you to take a fucking hint was about as impossible as teaching him calculus. 

You force out an awkward laugh that makes his skin crawl with defeat, but he doesn’t back down. “Come on what?” 

He refrains from the urge to say “me”, and instead huffs a sharp exhale through his nose. He’s moments away from spouting some lame compliment when the shrill cry of the bell interrupts his train of thought, and a tide of students eject eagerly from their seats and spill out into the corridor for lunch. 

Your friend approaches the desk with a quirked brow, reaching for your arm and mumbling something into your ear that’s intelligible to Clapton, tugging on you to try and steer you away from the classroom. And from him. You nod in response to her comment, before momentarily glancing back over to Clapton.

“I gotta go, Clapton. See you soon though, see you in History!” You send him a parting wave with a gentle flick of your wrist, before turning off and disappearing down the long stretch of corridor beside the classroom. His eyes follow you for as long as possible before your figure is consumed by the wandering horde of students, and he lets a grumbly sigh escape his parted lips before he packs up his belongings. This was going to be harder than he anticipated. 

*:･.・゜゜・

Clapton’s second attempt at alluring you resulted in more or less the same outcome. He’d entered the cafeteria, instantly bathed in the overwhelming odor of lysol and lard. His prior plan was to grab a doctor pepper, maybe a sandwich, and head over to his typical table to talk a painfully uninterested Sander’s ear off about you, but he scrapped it upon spotting you waiting in the cafeteria line, immediately changing course and veering over in hopes of a successful conversation.

He cuts in front of an unsuspecting freshman, ignores the irritated “What’s your deal man?”, and ‘accidentally’ brushes up to you until your bodies knock, and you spin around in confusion. 

Your face mildly relaxes in recognition, and he takes this as progress.

 “Hey. Getting lunch?”

“What else would I be doing?” You ask. Swing and a miss. 

He clears his throat a fraction, not allowing this to throw him off his game. 

“I dunno, maybe you just really like standing in lines,” he teases, and you laugh back. 

“Especially if the line is for overpriced cafeteria food,” you add with a grin.

The pair of you share a laugh, and Clapton marvels at the fact that you can look so irresistible even in the harsh fluorescence of the cafeteria’s artificial lighting. The pair of you fall into a partially awkward silence, and he follows your line of vision, watching as you observe some students hanging a hand painted banner advertising prom for the entirety of the cafeteria to see. ‘Spring Fling Formal, get your tickets now!’ glistens in white gold lettering. He prays he can take the banner up on that offer. 

“Are you doing anything for it?” A bit of a jump from the casual conversation, but he was itching to entice you and couldn’t risk missing his chance. 

“Hm? For what?” His lips twitch into a gradually familiar downwards smile. “Prom,” he says, gesturing at the banner, obnoxiously pink in hue and decorated with scatterings of hastily painted daisies. 

“Oh. Maybe— I’m not sure, it’s kinda ages away.” Yup. An impossibly distant period of two weeks. Clapton’s jaw ticks uncomfortably at the prospect of the narrowing window of time. He can’t afford to screw this up.

“Right. Sure. Are you… interested in anyone in particular though?” He probes, hoping that you notice the searing spark of desperation that lingers in the loop of his irises.

“Eh. Not really. Are you?”

His ego suffers a blow at your total ignorance to his pining. He’s on the brink of combustion; unable to endure the cosmic irony of having you so close yet so far. He pictures you for the umpteenth time, glittering in a dress that matched your eyes and his tie. A slow dance to a Sting song, his eager hands situated either side of your waist. You’d stare up at him with a dazzled guise, illuminated by the scintillation of indigo disco lights, and his tongue would delve into yours as he soaked up the saccharine flavor of the fruit punch lingering on your lips. 

“Yeah.” He states bluntly, staring at you as if you hung each and every star. “Yeah, I’m interested in someone.” 

You raise a brow. “Oh yeah? Who?”

He clears his throat. “Someone special. Someone super special.”

“You should ask them!” “Easier said than done,” he chuckles humorlessly. 

Your lips part as you go to investigate further, but are interrupted by the scowl of the lunch lady barking at you for your order. He notes it, mac and cheese plus a diet sprite— you’re handed it moments later, and your vision is torn from him and towards your small circle of friends seated across the cafeteria, who are waving you down. You’re gonna leave again? 

“I better go sit down, but, uh, you should definitely ask that person to prom. Be upfront and everything. Y’know, you only live once, and all that, right?” 

He swears he’s going to implode at the unbridled irony of this entire situation. Be upfront. He’s been upfront! 

“You know it,” he quips weakly as you slink away. 

He’s been showering you in signals for months, and you’d always abandon them, his attempts for your acknowledgement left festering as sour memories in his head, things that made him roll over with shame in bed at night, and all for what?

He brainlessly orders his doctor pepper with a monotone grumble, feeling the frigid prick of the can’s condensation gather in his palm as he wonders what the hell it’s gonna take for you to take a damn hint. 

*:･.・゜゜・

After yet another failed interaction, Clapton had spent the span of the rest of the week stripping his words to the marrow. Every conversation he indulged in with you involved his inner thoughts spouted in their rawest form— cocky compliments, lingering touches, looks of intense pining and yet somehow you continued to miss them. Every. Last. One. 

He was nearing his wits end, teetering on the cliff of insanity and seconds away from taking the plunge. Maybe he was the one who needed to take a hint. Maybe you were trying to tell him that you weren’t interested and he wasn’t giving it up. It was a sickening notion, one that thrashes wildly in his stomach. He didn’t know much, but he did know that he’d never be satisfied until he knew your stance on him for certain.  

He was just gonna say it. 

In hindsight, it wasn’t Clapton’s smartest move to deliver the question in the midst of a dodgeball game, but his thoughts were warped and he decided now was as good as ever. His voice was barely even audible beside you over the screech of tennis sneakers scraping the gym floor and the continuous sound of rubber balls coming into contact with student flesh. 

“Hey!” He exclaims. 

“Hey?” You say back, turning to him momentarily. Yet again, he wonders how you do it. Hair blown back effortlessly, skin glistening with a fragile sheen of moisture that is hardly off-putting, if doing something it aids to soften your otherworldly glow. Meanwhile, he was panting like an old dog, hair matted to his forehead in sodden chunks beneath his obnoxious sweatband. 

“I needa ask you something!” It’s sink or swim. His teeth graze the inside of his cheek for a moment, his gaze varying between you and the opposing court, to prevent a dodgeball to the head. 

“Yeah?” Sink or swim sink or swim sink or swim. “What’s up?” He melts at the sight of your semi-breathless smile.

“Are you still dateless? Like, to prom?”

Your forehead creases, and you return the sideways glance. “Um, yeah. Why?”

With a delayed exhale that rings heavy in the pits of his lungs, he turns his entire body to face you, which in turn makes you face him as well. 

“Look, I’ve been trying to say this for months. Well, not months. Maybe weeks. Whatever– point is, it’s been a while. Like seriously, a long fucking time. And I swear I’ve been so obvious, but clearly not obvious enough because you’re still, like, totally unaware or whatever. But, like, basically, I was wondering— I’ve been wondering if—” “Clapton!” You exclaim hurriedly, splintering his stammered sentence in an instant. He barely has time to cast his visage front on, before a dodgeball with an extremely strayed trajectory soars gracefully through the current of the air and hits Clapton square in the face. Guess he wasn’t paying enough attention after all. 

An expletive leaves his lips, muffled by the wail of your gym teacher’s whistle. His head is temporarily a warped whirlwind resembling TV static, though the feeling fades fairly quickly.

You turn to him in a mild panic, noting the faint trickle of glossy crimson that has started to spill from his nose. “Holy shit! You’re bleeding! Lemme take you to the nurse.” 

He can’t help but twist his lips up to form a slight smirk as you place a worried hand on his bicep. The touch scars on his nerves, your fingers like an angel’s caress. 

In all honesty, he feels fine, but you offered to take him to the nurse— was he going to give up that delightful invitation? No. He was not. 

The pair of you are excused from the gym, trekking down the hallway in an atmosphere of silence so thick it’s practically tangible. Upon arrival at the nurse, Clapton’s seated in a shitty plastic chair, holding a paper towel held to his nose and tipping his head slightly backward. He couldn’t believe that his one chance of actually spitting his desperate question out was interrupted by a stray dodgeball. A goddamn stray dodgeball. 

You linger in the doorframe, taut as a coiled spring. The nurse, underpaid and painfully unsympathetic, leaves the pair of you once she deems Clapton to be ‘good enough’, in her exact words. 

You approach him, taking the scarlet-spotted tissue and holding it to his face for him, a gesture which turns his insides in on themselves. 

“Hey Clapton? What were you saying before?”

Shit. 

“What?” He croaks gutturally, trying and failing to play dumb. He knew damn well what he was saying. Prom with him. 

“You were asking me something. Before you got, y’know, obliterated by a flying dodgeball.”

He snickers feebly, even if for a moment. “Oh, yeah.”

You open your eyes wider as if to say, “Well?”

The climate in the room seems to sink heavier, cradling the scent of antiseptic and drying blood. Clapton’s words fizzle out on his tongue no matter which way he arranges them in his head, but he knows he just has to get it out—- rip off the band-aid, break the ice, all of that. 

His eyes, big and wide and drinking in your face so dangerously close to his, melt into an unmistakable question. He counts himself down in his head. Now or never. 

“Prom. I was asking if you wanna go to prom.” He takes a staggered breath. “With me, I mean.”

Oh. 

Oh. 

The genuine beam you erupt in subsequent to his words is enough to ease his nerves. It’s enough to make him soar, actually. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” That wasn’t a no. That wasn’t a no. His heart hurts with hope. 

“I tried to. You’re just… you kinda suck at taking hints.” He chuckles. 

You roll your eyes, picturing every moment leading up to this one that you spent with him. Upon further reflection—- yeah. Yeah, you clearly did. People don’t look at friends the way he looked at you.

“Shit, I kinda definitely do,” you murmur. 

He doesn’t let the quiet last long.

“So…?”

“Oh. Right, yeah. Clapton, I’d love to go to prom with you.”

The smile he wears is irresistibly contagious. Finally. Finally. Two long years of craving you; two years of memorizing every quirk and curve and contour. He knows it’s sort of ridiculous to get so elated about some forgettable high school dance, but the image he can see so vividly in his head; the lights and the dress and the swarm of butterflies that comes with your killer smile… it’s worth every awkward exchange, every word that’s fallen on deaf ears.

“Seriously?” He asks, reaching for your hand and wallowing in the way you so brainlessly accept the touch.

“Seriously.”

“Good. You won’t regret it.” 

And something inside you tells you that he’s absolutely right. 

reminder, my requests are always open

masterlist

✩‧₊˚

[tnbscans]

Tnbscan Want list

I am looking for pretty much anything that you can't find on here already. I have hundreds of items in the queue and many I haven't even scanned yet but there's always things I'm not aware of existing, especially non Japanese items. If you have scans to donate (full credit given of course) please contact me. Thank you!

Bromides

Missing Link Mind Game, OST Seigi no Koe ga Kikoerukai Best of Hero Hero Radio The Beginning OST On-Air Jack 7 Piece Set The Live (ones not already on here) Animate Girls Festival 2011 (All but Kotetsu, Barnaby) 2016 bluray box hero academy Enter Bell (all) T&B2 OST (both) KujiPia (all)

Postcards

Animate New Chitose Airport (Kotetsu & Barnaby) Namjatown & Beginning in Namjatown (many, please ask) Wondergoo (all except T&B2 vol 1 &2, T&B1 (Sakakibara) vol 1) Sunrise (2013 & 2014) MBS Anime Fes 2014 Graffart (all) CharaShop (all) Karatez (2021) Pash May 2022 4DX (Kotetsu, Barnaby) Hero Festa in Sunshine 60 Observatory (all) Parco (all four) Compact Blu-Ray Box Onkyo 2023 Nengajo (all) T&B2 in Namjatown (all) 2022 Pia Mook Cybird Season 2 Bluray (set of 7) Molly Online (all 3)

Clear Files

Sunrise Festival 2011 Namco Namjatown Origami Cyclone Washi Minimini (The Beginning & Origami Cyclone) Circuit of Hero The Beginning 3 Pocket Chipicco (A & B) Sound of T&B 2016 Characro (Ryan, Keith, Pao-Lin) Pachislot Stationary Series (all 6) Pop'n Hero (all 8) Yuru Palette (Hero on Air) NordiQ (Kotetsu & Barnaby, Origami Rock High, Yuri, Group) Nitengo (A & B) Cafe Playback (Both) Mitsukoshi Passlogy Parco (Kotetsu, Barnaby) Rose (Barnaby) Birthday Set (Ryan & Karina, Antonio & Ivan) le coq sportif Summer Resort Heroes (Ivan & Antonio curling) Bkub Okawa (Wild Tiger, Barnaby)

Posters

Newtype Ace Vol 3 (2011) Animedia October 2011 Pash November 2011 Newtype December 2011 Miracle Jump Vol 4 (2011) Cool Voice Issue 5 (2011) Miracle Jump Vol 11 (2012) Ichiban Kuji (Kotestu, Barnaby, Ivan, Keith, Blue Rose, Group) The Beginning World Premiere Poster Collection (1 & 2) Pash July 2012 Animage November 2012 On-Air Jack DAM Hero Karaoke 2012 Circuit of Hero Pash October 2013 Pash May 2014 Oedo Onsen (all) Hero TV Fan The Rising The World of Tiger & Bunny No Anime No Life Ichiban Kuji Rascal Karatez Hero Supporter Art Archives Movie Compact Blu-Ray Box (all) Animedia February 2023

Stickers

Gyu-Kaku x Rock Bison (10 types) Hero TV Jack ~Achieve Emergency Missions~ (Ivan, Keith, Antonio, Nathan, Pao-lin, Karina) Anime Film Festival Tokyo 2017 Wall Stickers (all) Stationary Series Cafe Playback (set A & B) Parco (all) T&B2 schedule stickers Sanrio Petant (set A & B) Buon Appettito Pac-Man A-on Store Origami Cyclone Bakery Usagiza Lepus (all)

Manga Covers (JP)

Comic Anthology 1: It takes two to make a quarrel Comic Anthology 2: First catch your hare Comic Anthology 3: Hitch your wagon to a star Comic Anthology 4: The age of miracles is past…!? Anthology Comic: Go! Go!! Tiger & Bunny 1, 2, 3SP Tiger & Bunny Comics Anthology Vol. 1, 2, 3 Tiger & Bunny 4 Koma Kings Vol. 1, 2, 3 Tiger & Bunny The Comic (Ueda) all except Vol 4 Tiger & Bunny Comic Anthology Extra Tiger & Bunny Comic Anthology: We Love Sky High Tiger & Bunny The Beginning Comic Anthology Tiger & Bunny (Sakakibara New Edition) Vol. 1, 2, 3, 4

Books (full scans or at least art and interviews)

Tiger & Bunny Hero TV Fan vol. 1 Tiger & Bunny Hero TV Fan vol. 2 Katsura Masakazu x Tiger & Bunny – Original Drawings & Rough Sketches Collection (donation pending) Tiger & Bunny Official Hero Book Tiger & Bunny Official Hero Book 2 Tiger & Bunny Official Guide Book Hero Gossips Tiger & Bunny Roman Album (partially scanned) Tiger & Bunny King of Works (partially scanned) TV Anime Tiger & Bunny Scenario Document Vol. 1 TV Anime Tiger & Bunny Scenario Document Vol. 2 Tiger & Bunny The Live Official Visual Book Band Score Tiger & Bunny Sheet Music Tiger & Bunny -The Beginning- Official Hero Book Tiger & Bunny -The Beginning- King of Works (interviews done, art pending) The Beginning Souvenir Program Special Edition Smart Special Edition Tiger & Bunny Special Book Smart Special Edition Tiger & Bunny -The Rising- Special Book Katsura Masakazu x Tiger & Bunny – Original Drawings & Rough Sketches Collection 2 Mizuki Sakakibara Tiger & Bunny Illustrations (copy obtained) Sum Up!! Tiger & Bunny The Rising Souvenir Program Special Edition Tiger & Bunny -The Rising- Clear File & Postcard Book Tiger & Bunny English of Heroes Tiger & Bunny Pia Tiger & Bunny Hero TV Fan-The Rising- Tiger & Bunny -The Rising- King of Works (super fanbook done, art pending) Tiger & Bunny - The Slot Works- (copy obtained) Tiger & Bunny 2 Multi Pouch Book Tiger & Bunny Kotetsu T. Kaburagi & Barnaby Brooks Jr. Pia Mook (copy obtained) Katsura Masakazu x Tiger & Bunny 2 Original Drawings Tiger & Bunny 2 Anime Visual Book (copy obtained) Tiger & Bunny 2 King of Works (illustrated sheets scanned)

Other Merch:

Monthly Hero Magazine in any language besides Japanese and English. I am aware of French and Korean editions Birthday card included in the Barnaby's Birthday Plate set Calendars (2012, 2013, 2014) Sunrise/Bandai Namco shareholder promotional cards and calendars (all except 2022) Monthly Sheets (Yuri, Ben & Saito) All quo and tosho cards not already here Yurindo bookmarks DAM 3D Mini Book Comics Takaoka bonus paper (Vol 9) Oedo Onsen omiikuji card (Karina) Chimi Mega Buddy Illustrated Sheet Antonio's birthday set Molly Online Kuji clear posters Hero cards and NFT cards given out at the Museum of T&B 2 Netlfix anime card given out at Anime Japan 2023 Hub collab cards and cheki photos

Any non Japanese merchandise I am not aware of, especially outside of North America

Any interviews/articles in any language not already on here

Lost Media

2011 film comic Any undocumented images or files related to the lost media video games Road of Hero, My Private Hero, and V Residence God Eater II T&B DLC Tiger & Bunny The Xmas livestream Hero Radio episodes 26, 40, 74 T&B Station episodes 12, 24, 25, 26

High quality scans of the below art:

[drnikolatesla]

Nikola Tesla and His Achievements

Although the system of world wireless power transmission consumed most of his attention throughout his life, Nikola Tesla still brought the world many wonderful inventions and discoveries. Stated in chronological order, some of the more notable ones are:

The rotating magnetic field, 1882;

System of arc lighting, 1886;

Tesla motor and system of alternating current power transmission that utilized the rotating magnetic field discovery creating polyphase systems of AC, 1888;

System of electrical conversion and distribution by oscillatory discharges, 1889;

Generators of high-frequency currents and effects of these, 1890;

Transmission of energy through a single wire without return, 1891;

The “Tesla coil,” or oscillation transformer, which was the basis to his wireless transmission of energy making Tesla the true father of radio, 1891;

Investigations of high-frequency effects and phenomena, 1891-93;

System of transmission of intelligence and power without wires, 1891-1905;

Neon light signs, 1893;

Researches and discoveries in radiations, material streams and emanations, today known as X-rays, and X-ray imaging, 1893-1898;

Mechanical oscillators and generators of electrical oscillations, 1894-95;

Radioactivity and cosmic ray discovery published in a series of papers in the "Electrical Review,” New York, 1896-1898;

High-potential vacuum tubes, 1896-1898;

Explained the harms of X-rays and safer ways to use them, 1897;

High-potential magnifying transmitter, 1897;

Economic transmission of energy by refrigeration, 1898;

Remote control, or what Tesla called his “Art of Telautomatics,” 1897-99;

Discovery of stationary electrical waves in the earth, 1899;

Art of transmitting energy by stationary waves through earth, 1899-1900;

Burning of atmospheric nitrogen, and production of other electrical effects of transcending intensities, 1899-1900;

Apparatus for the utilization of cosmic radiation, 1901;

Art of Individualization. Tesla described this as a method of absolute privacy in wireless communication, 1902-1903;

Magnifying transmitter on a large scale, 1902;

Speedometers on new principles, means for lightning protection, types of steam and gas turbines, pressure and vacuum pumps and other apparatus, 1916-1926.

Teleforce, or his “New Art of Projecting Concentrated Non-Dispersive Energy Through Natural Media.” This is his particle beam weapon, circa 1930s.

[tenth-sentence]

The greater the relative velocity of the two observers, the larger the angle between their respective parallel slices (as explained in the endnotes, the speed limit set by light translates into a maximum 45° rotation angle for these slicings⁹) and the greater the discrepancy between what the observers will report as having happened at the same moment.

9. The mathematically inclined reader will note that if we choose units so that the speed of light takes the form of one space unit per one time unit (like one light-year per year or one light-second per second, where a light-year is about 6 trillion miles and a light-second is about 186,000 miles), then light moves through spacetime on 45-degree rays (because such diagonal lines are the ones which cover one one space unit in one time unit, two space units in two time units, etc.). Since nothing can exceed the speed of light, any material object must cover less distance in space in a given interval of time than would a beam of light, and hence the path it follows through spacetime must make an angle with the centerline of the diagram (the line running through the center of the loaf from crust to crust) that is less than 45 degrees. Moreover, Einstein showed that the time slices for an observer moving with velocity v – all of space at one moment of such an observer's time – have an equation (assuming one space dimension for simplicity) given by t(moving) = γ(t(stationary) - (v/c²)·x(stationary)), where γ = (1 - v²/c²)^-½, and c is the velocity of light. In units there c = 1, we note that v < 1 and hence a time slice for the moving observer – the locus where t(moving) takes on a fixed value – is of the form (t(stationary) - v·x(stationary)) = constant. Such time slices are angled with respect to the stationary time slices (the loci of the form t(stationary) = constant), and because v> 1, the angle between them is less than 45 degrees.

"The Fabric of the Cosmos" - Brian Greene

[helloescapist]

Senbazuru

Word Count: 5377

Setting: reader pairing. Aizawa x gn!reader, short

Content Warning(s): minor character background spoilers, hints of angst and mentions of death/loss, one sentence of ecchi/suggestive

Summary: Returning to U.A. as a member of faculty means much more than facing than your career change from hero to caretaker, it means having to face the boy you had once love, and the rejection you had faced. You had thought the years the pain and the flame you had carried all these years, but it seems, time hadn't affected as much as you had thought.

[not my art, credit goes to the artist!]

The warmth of the day had yet to break, dawn just beginning to break as the hint of light fluttered across beige curtains, warming the bed in which your boyfriend slept.

Cocooned in layers of blankets, cutesy white pom-poms furnishing the pillows and lining the sheets. Plush and welcoming, the light glow of the daylight kissing the features of his face, resting on his high cheekbones. The scar from his Nemu attack in the first semester evident on his cheek, a new addition you had traced into your memory, your fingers seizing every moment to trace it delicately. From your desk, you could make out his long eye lashes flutter in his sleep, the faintest touch of a snore carried on his breath. His thick black hair mussed, an adorable mass of curls tossed in his sleep. The occasional strand to obscure his face. The hint of his five o’clock shadow over plush lips, obscured by the blanket that he had drawn up to his nose. Nestled in cozily, unaware of Numachi, a neighbor stray cat who had taken up residency on your balcony when you had first arrived to U.A. Initially, you had considered shooing him, unfamiliar with the dorm rules pertaining to pets, but upon watching it flop on the rug. Nuzzling its side into your carpet, its dark eyes languidly following you before accepting a curious pet, you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but he reminded you of someone. His familiarity giving you a sense of comfort… well, you had figured the little guy might provide a comforting companion for Eri. After all, you were hired to assist in Eri’s adjustment to life at U.A., and pets had long been proven to assist victims of PTSD from symptoms of anxiety, stress, and even loneliness. So, you had come to the swift decision what Principal Nezu didn’t know, certainly wouldn’t hurt your employment status, and should your cute stow away ever be discovered, you felt confident that Shota would come to your rescue, after all, they had just recently updated their relationship status to cuddle buddies. Numachi stays.

                The breeze from the balcony brushed against your hair, tickling your nose. Eyes gently scanning the paper before you. An assembly of different color paper ranging in various shades of pastels, and patterns fluctuating from cutesy little hearts to simple gingham print, all secured from the local stationary store as you pressed your lips together, a gentle smile as your eyes swept across the peaceful slumber of Shota curled into your blankets, Numachi snuggled at his side. Tea lights illuminating the picturesque moment as your fingers traced the folds of paper, recalling the first time you had seen his first scar.

It had been some time since you had returned to U.A. Academy. You hadn’t the courage to visit your alma mater after you had hung up your hero mask. Somehow, it felt embarrassing to return under the circumstances, and yet, here you were bunny luggage set piled on one another as you wheeled it towards the front gates. Your belly full of anxiety, the dawning realization that you were returning to your old stomping grounds… a hero drop-out with bunny luggage. BUNNY LUGGAGE. It wasn’t that you had intended to be a hero-drop out. Like most of your former classmates, you had started off with the best of intentions. A glimmering ray of hope in a stark world where quirks ran rampant, and villains on the rise, but to pursue the line of work had been a hefty weight to bear after Shirakumo Oboro’s death. The obvious devastation his loss had wrecked on his class, your own position in 2-B leaving you as no more than a spectator. Your interactions with the boy hadn’t been frequent, but the hallways felt so much colder since his passing. Quiet without his laughter, and empty without his arm slung around his two long time companions, Aizawa Shoto, and Yamada Hizashi. Along with his passing, it seemed as though those who had been left behind, their relationships had become eschewed. So much so that for a time, you couldn’t recognize Yamada, and for Aizawa… the boy who had occasionally gifted you bandaged during class vs. class combat, left little puddings on your desk, or even the occasional coffee at your desk when you had fallen asleep worn out from pulling an all-nighter… that boy was gone. His expression bore only what you could compare to permanent mourning, his presence had grown distant, and even when you were given the opportunity to speak to him, those rare moments when you used to peek his interest, it was as though you were speaking to the ghost of the boy he once was. His eyes that once followed you with a small smile quipped and ready, was now stale and unresponsive. Barely offering a mumble, he had become dormant, your exchanges having grown more and more sparse. Rumors around the school circled that Aizawa had changed, and as the exchanges dwindled, his dodging become more and more obvious, he no longer attempted to shield your feelings. The realization searing what blooming feelings you had nurtured, and left a wound that had never quite healed.

The loss of a classmate had done… so much. To continue rescue work, knowing what became of survivors left in the hero’s wake tore at you. How many lives had been left asunder? How many civilians had been lost? What about those you had rescued? Would they be okay? Or would the succumb to survivor’s guilt? After a few years of parading around as Vertex, the Intercept Hero, the nagging reality of what could become of those you saved after they left your care… it had driven you to a breaking point, unraveled the very being of what you had believed was your purpose, and so, you hung up your mask. Leaving you with the task of mending the seams of your life… In time, you had found solace in early education, specifically the target field of trauma informed instruction, and while you were proud of your current path, and you had long since adjusted to the magnitude of your retirement, standing before your old academy filled you with a sense of melancholy. An awkward smile pressed to your lips as you had pushed pass the entrance exam, greeted the guard with your new U.A. faculty badge. You did your best to bury any feelings from the past that threatened to bubble up, swallowed the hurt as you passed the very tree that Aizawa had drawn the line between you, his words of rejection whispering in your ear. No, no. You were no longer a student at U.A. Those days were gone, and over, and you highly doubted any of the students would remember the hero, Vertex (the days to come would prove that inaccurate, and you would spend a good amount of time attempting to evade a certain boy with castleton green hair who was determined to record details of your quirk and retirement). Yes, those days should have been over, and you were in fact, no longer that awkward teenager. You were in fact an awkward employee, tasked with an unusual request from one, Principal Nezu.

                If only the source of the distraction hadn’t greeted you at the Principal office door. If only he hadn’t opened the, if only you could tell yourself, it was just manners until he dared to slam the door in Present Mic’s face. If only you couldn’t feel the pounding in your heart, a distant murmur of feelings you had thought were long forgotten. If only he hadn’t sat across from you, the same obsidian that had captivated you so many years ago hadn’t caught you under their gaze. If only you hadn’t noticed the scar that had formed under his eye, a beautiful crescent shape that only drew you in, made it difficult to breathe. If only you could pretend that seeing his soft cheek marred didn’t nag at your heart. If only the source of the distraction you tried to subconsciously buried were not sitting across from you. Your top lip tugged at your bottom lip with dismay, pretending you were not drowning in the dread of rejection from all those years ago as Principal Nezu reviewed your job description, and introduced you to the case in question. Steeling yourself with a deep breath, and avoiding Aizawa’s eyes, you stood up from the couch, bent forward. Doing your best to achieve eye level with the little girl who nestled into the apathetic man’s side. Her light hair catching the lighting of the room to reveal shades of white hair tainted blues and grays. Her vast red eyes appraising you, uneasily before glancing up at Aizawa for affirmation. Yes, this little girl here was the reason you had relocated from the Americas, to answer the request the principal of your old academy had personally made. The flight home to Japan permitting more than enough time to familiarize you with the little girl’s background information, quirk, as well as a variety of other needs to be addressed. “Hello,” you greeted her warmly, mindful to stay in a soft tone as you made sure to stay at her level, “my name is [LN][FN]. I’m so happy to meet you; is there a name you would like me to call you?”

You found yourself smiling at the distant memory as your eyes traced over the delicate folds you made. Folding the paper between fingers, careful of their fragile creases. At the time, you had told yourself that Shota hadn’t spared you more than a passing glance, tried to convince yourself that you did not feel his eyes trace you, or the way his eyes had followed your movements. When that failed, you told yourself it was because of his obvious affectionate regard for Eri. She was after all placed in his care. Completely unaware of the depths Principal Nezu had revealed when he shared that it was in fact Aizawa who had recommended you for the job. It had taken everything in you not to look at him as the Principal recounted that Shota had remembered a girl in the same year of him with a unique skill set, securing further information of your where abouts from Kayama. The implication that he remembered you overall these years, drew a light blush to your cheeks. You told yourself not to read too much into it, but due to the close quarters of a shared task of acclimating Eri, you couldn’t help, but wonder if there was more to it… if maybe some part of him regretted shutting you out so many years ago.

You had grown accustomed to your surroundings at U.A., you had adjusted to the expectations of dorm life, and fallen into a nice routine with Eri. While the staff as a whole assisted in meeting Eri’s base needs, Aizawa had taken a more active role in her education when the time allowed it. On days when he was exhausted from his vast duties, he would leave Eri a little decorative cake, and supply her with various supplies from the necessary pencils and coloring markers, to the prized extra tokens elementary students often were gifted by parents like popular cartoon character merchandize, and stickers. On these days, he would load the coffee pot for your earliest convince, put away supplies from the day before if you were too exhausted to do so, leave a grocery bag on your dorm door knob full of snacks, and one time, even gifting you a bunny motif pen when you had commented on how cute Eri’s pen was. On days off from the classroom lectures, squeezed in between underground night patrols, Aizawa would join you two for lunch, and listen to everything Eri could share about what she had been learning. Recounting excitedly about manner and etiquette expected from elementary aged students, her growing comprehension of a basic elementary education such as colors, numbers, shapes, and that she was even going to start a new lesson. At times, he would inquire how the day had affected you. The first time, had caught you surprised, the small glimmer of the boy from your school days that would check in on you in the nurse’s office, and when you shared, you found that just like he once used to, his attention was focused on you. He would hang on every word, listen closely to what you had to say, and you would discover minor inconveniences such as the window that would not close, were no longer a concern the next day with only Aizawa having been the person you divulged the information to. When he had the day off, he would focus on her training. Yet, you could not escape the feeling that her education wouldn’t be fulfilled if she were not given more opportunities to interact with the world more. Often left to consider ways to assist in this department, that was the day you had approached him about allowing Eri opportunities to explore the outside world.

 It hadn’t taken as much convincing as you had thought. Aizawa as you had come to learn was always willing to put students’ wellbeing first regardless of his discontent for public spaces, and when you had disclosed concern that avoiding outings may further stunt her progress and leave her at a disadvantage from her peers, he had given you credit for the necessary point, but on one condition. One you had applied. When taking in consideration Eri’s unique circumstances, you had determined that it would be especially beneficial to test-drive any potential outing to be able to a potentially damaging experiences. You had suggested this to Aizawa, and on the day of that first fateful outing, you had realized that there perhaps had been a miscommunication in between the two of you.

You had come to this realization when you were met face to face with Aizawa. His thick luscious waves pulled back into a low pony-tail, the glimpse of his neck making you weak in the knees as your gaze could not help but wander his silhouette. A simple t-shirt tucked under a loose cardigan, the appearance languid and effortless. Confident and relaxed in a way that left you unsettled as you looked down at your own casual outfit, clearly feeling inadequate in comparison, but the real question was, “Um… Aizawa, did you happen to have an errand in the area?”

                Face to face in front of the botanical garden with attached park you had considered as a potential outing for Eri. It’s biggest draw had been that it offered child friendly activities, opportunities to engage with peers her own age, and the peaceful surroundings suggested little surprises that may startle the young girl. However, before allowing Eri on the field trip, you had wanted to survey the area to be certain that there would be no potential triggers--- yet, here yours stood staring back at you with a blank expression. “No.” Plain and flat. As though you had asked a silly question.

                “I-uh, I-I don’t unders---,” you mumbled, struggling to maintain eye contact. Why of all days did he choose to wear his hair like—

                “Shall we?” Hands in his pocket, nonchalant as he passed you, leading the way. Leaving you little choice, but to follow him. He had paid the entry fee. His feet guiding him, and you in a daze trying to comprehend… how had this happened? What was this? Work? Passing couples, studying flowers. You had intended to stop and study the locational map, but Shota Aizawa pointed out that given Eri’s age, forgoing the map was likely the best way to experience the park from Eri’s perspective, and so… you did. Side by side, the occasional way your shoulders brushed. Becoming more and more aware of the couples linked arm and arm growing on you just as the blush that burned the tips of your ears. Doing your absolute best not to panic, to ignore the hint of sandalwood that embraced you. The enchanting tone of jasmine and orange when he leaned close to you, reading off various information posts that were readily available. The pounding your heart growing harder and harder to dismiss. Tugging your eyes from the tickle of his hair, distress clear on your features, bewildered at the unusual circumstances you had landed yourself in… Sort of like when he would randomly walk you home in school—nope. NOPE. Not going there.

                Your eyes catching the distant chuckle of children. Kids who dared to tumble through the open field the botanical gardens had set aside. Their laughter undeniable, joys of childhood reflecting on old memories. Clearing your thoughts and your heads—that’s right. You were here for Eri. “Ah, Sh--- Aizawa.” You corrected, finding his hand as you tugged him forward. Dismissing the slight way his eyes widened. You had come back from America, all of this was circumstantial, you told yourself. People in the United States were not exactly known for their timid, impersonal habits. That’s all, you were just still acclimating to Japanese etiquette. Y-yup! That must be it. “Look,” you instructed. Encouraging him to observe the little ones that tumbled down the small hills, weaved flower crowns, twirling in the light of day. Their happiness contagious, and the epitome of everything you longed for Eri to experience. Walking side by side, you did your best to note the time—maybe there would be more children at different times. Made mental account of their mannerisms, how their parents responded to their behaviors. How you might be able to encourage Eri to engage in—is he okay?

                Somber eyes that watched as students pushed pass, laughing. A boy that dared to wrap his hand around what you assumed was his girlfriend’s hands. The aloof expression he forced on himself as his friends cooed their praise, hinting that this had been a move long in the making. His friends’ encouragements as clear as the sky above, and you, completely unaware that so many years ago, Oboro and Hizashi had done the same for him. Dared him to make a move, pushed him to express what he had been oblivious to admit affections that had taken root in his youth. The distant memory of the day he had dared to walk you home. How Hizashi had prodded him the next day, poked at his cheek. Oboro swatting his hand from Shota’s cheek, singing his praise. Fist pumping the air--- Shota had done it. He had taken the first step towards his first romance. The small smirk that caught on his gentle gaze, you were completely unaware of what had crossed his mind. Only mindful of the melancholy expression he bore, and struggling to know what had placed it there. The distant gaze of the children catching your attention before a smile crossed your lips.

                “Ah! SHOTA!” You squealed, his head turning towards you. The sudden outburst catching him by surprise. There it was, the opening as the devious squint of your eyes perturbed him. Pointer finger pressed against middle finger, taking advantage of the movement of his frame, you popped your right hand against his side, left hand pointer finger and middle finger saddled side by side as you directed his movement. Quirk Intercept activated. Utilizing the energy of his body in motion, you scooped him to the side. His unbalance evident as the surprise on his face, but—a smirk? Eyes widening as the feeling of his hand that grasped your shirt, and tugged you forward. His black eyes meeting yours, but quick to act. The slight ebb of a brow drawn at the realization of what you had orchestrated, and thus, why his hand had caught you. Tossed at his side, the momentum of the hill gained as your bodies crashed forward, feeling the laughter emit from your lungs. Aizawa’s dazed and rattled gaze staring at you. Pinned beneath your shifted weight, legs wrapped around one another as you found yourself giggling carelessly with the beautiful park day. Oblivious to the blush that radiated down your neck, or the way your bodies pressed together. A mess of black curls that fanned around his sides, the occasional leaf and blade of grass nabbed in their coils. The slightest hint that graced his scar on his cheek as he scanned your features. The hallowing realization of your hands that rested next to his face in the grass. Hands at his side as he peered up at you, as though embroidering you into his memory as you had done him so many times in your youth. The realization stealing the laughter from your throat. Your eyes widening, comprehension dawning on you at the suggestive way your bodies clung to one another. The smile. THAT smile. The faintest trace of a smile you had witnessed back in your school days, that had claimed your thoughts back then. You had witnessed in the halls, and when he departed from you after walking you home. The hammering in your chest as your cheeks warmed, drawing from him as quick as you could breathe. Righting yourself, pressing a hand to your cheek.

You fought back the dreamy sigh as you pressed fingers together. That day had been magical. In your embarrassment, you had distracted yourself with collecting daisies. Told yourself that it was all for Eri, when you had realized shyly that he had watched you fumble stem over stem, clumsily weaving them around each other. Distracting his gaze from your features—why he had insisted on watching your every move was beyond you, but you were fidgety. Leaving you little choice but to plop the awkwardly composed flower crown onto his head. It clinging to his black curls, and the stoic expression he bore in response, had never left your thoughts. The smile forming on your lips as you meticulously folded corner to corner. The first crane had been slopping, but steadily, you were gaining in capabilities as you found yourself studying the curl that defied gravity in his slumber. Coiled in the air, silly as you fought back the giggle. Numachi having woken from his slumber, daring to reach up to swat at it. Shota completely unaware of his nudging. He was cute, so very cute, and your excursions on “behalf of Eri” had made you realized how adorable Shota really was.

                One time you had wandered to a popular ice cream parlor. You had only intended to have a basic ice cream cone, so you could observe the area, and the cute little motifs that decorated the area. The warm interactions between other children and their caregivers, and right as you had began to wonder if… maybe this would do harm than good for Eri, Shota had swooped in. Placing the most adorable layered parfait you had ever witnessed. Delicious fruits composed layer by layer, color coordinating in the softest of tones. Luscious cream, pocky embellishments. The double cherries positively adorable, and the bunny shape topper and ears composed of ears. The sparkles in your eyes undeniable as a spoon appeared before you, and Aizawa had slid into the booth opposite of you. His dark aesthetic a little out of place, and garnishing interested glances from those that had passed by. He was completely out of place, you thought with a laugh, and at the time, he had appeared on so many of your wanderings, that you weren’t that surprised by his inclusion. The double spoons however had caught you off guard. Your embarrassment only furthered as you had panicked at the time, plopping him dead on the nose with a spoonful of cream.

                That distant memory forcing a chuckle out of you. You had been so horribly awkward. In fact, it was only that fateful day that had pushed your relationship status from this vague existence to active.

The rain had settled in far faster than either of you had ever thought. The clouds rolled in at a moment’s noticed, the storm having raised up in levels. No longer a simple drizzle, to a full-blown tempest. Wind tossing everything about, raising tensions. The pressures having shifted, and the rain that thundered down. Your festival visit had been completely rained out. Parents shielding their children from the down pour. Lanterns snubbed out just as quickly, as venders scurried to collect their wares. Hands doing their best to conceal your hair as you weaved through the crowd, Aizawa’s hand reaching out and snatching your own. He had pulled you off to the side, down a series of side streets. The wind tossing bins about, jostling trees. Shaking the leaves from their branches, the growing weather causing him to scoop you in his arms, dodging a loose branch. Scooped into his arms, he dashed through the streets, the press of rain sticking his locks to his face before he had finally stopped in front of an apartment complex. Allowing you to your feet, as he beckoned you inside. The dawning realization that this must be his home away from U.A. Academy. Your cheeks burning at how aloof he was--- did he not know the implications of bringing someone to his place?

                No. no he did not, you had concluded as you stared down at a large shirt, he offered to you. Horrified at the circumstances, cheeks red from your cheeks down your neck. The raw emotion that had claimed you. Clothes stuck to your sides, leaving little to the imagination, exposed to the night air as the storm persisted. You weren’t go anywhere for a while, that was evident, and yes… changing clothes was the obvious route, and how many times you had fantasized about this very scenario in your school days. Flipped between books of a page, and a nagging lecture, you had dreamed about such an opportunity, to parade in his clothe, but now that you were actually presented with the opportunity. You couldn’t deny the panic in your heart as you grasped his shirt in between tight fingers. Shooed off to the bathroom to change.

                Your eyes wandered amongst the bare bathroom. True, it had been some time since the faculty had moved in to the U.A. facilities, but the lack of physical attachments left you curious. The bare necessities were readily available, you suspected he had visited the apartment at the end of his night patrols. Some shampoo, and conditioner left to the side. That familiar ebb of sandalwood and jasmine with orange notes radiating from the bath. The place was clean enough—and perhaps it should have surprised you given his bachelor status, but for some reason, it suited him. As did the lack of attachments… yet, somehow, you could not fight the growing since of sorrow it brought you. You had seen so many hints of the boy he had been before Oboro’s loss, but met with the detached living courters, it felt as though he still carried that burden. That hurt, and the loneliness that he must carry. When you had opened the bathroom door, he had already long since changed, and you could not ignore the way his gaze swept across your silhouette. Grazed over your body, the faintest discoloration betraying his stoic expression before the towel met your wet hair. His touch gentle and warm, fingers that roamed. Massaged at your scalp, delicately tended to your wet hair. The pounding of his heart loud in your hear as he leaned against you to ensure that he had captured any evidence of the rain.

The next morning, you had been greeted to the warm hues of sandalwood snuggled against you. The tight embrace from behind, and the arms that contained you. Coiled around you, refused to release you from slumber. The nose that pressed into your neck as the slightest hint of slumber cooed, the sleep quickly escaped from your thoughts. Oh, god, you had thought in horror. Panic drawing nausea as you forced yoruself from his hold. Flung back the covers of a futon on the floor. Unintentionally exposing him to the night air, his senses completely dull. His bed head defying gravity,  as he attempted to grasp the situation--- why were you panicking? What was wrong? Spider? The faint of groan as he attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes. Lazily peeking through eyelashes while you were a tornado. A rush of clothes stripped from the balcony, hung up to dry. Doing your best to manage them over your form, awkwardly forgetting that you had adorned his shirt to bed. A seductive sight he hadn’t ignored, but the careless way you forced clothes on yourself. Forgetting to strip that first layer off, the yank of your pants revealing the slightest hint of your underwear—okay you were in a rush? What time was it? Settling himself up, a confused expression beginning to dawn on him. The flush of your face revealing your shame, and he had began to wonder if he had done something wrong. You weren’t students anymore, there was certainly nothing wrong with accidentally falling asleep in a grown man’s apartment. Especially given the weather—but the flush against your skin and the undignified squeal you released as though a person possessed when you slammed the front door behind you. Likely having assumed that he could not hear you… He was officially at a loss.

You hadn’t handled that well at all, and truthfully, you wish you could taint the memory. Tell yourself that the days that followed were handled with the absolute dignity. They were not. At all. Dodging him was difficult, and in reality, not much of an option available to you. After all, you worked together. You took care of a child together. You were clearly displaced by the night you had spent together while Shota had remained… himself? Oh, it had been quite the slap to the face. The composed way he continued to carry out his day. Not that it should’ve been—you were adults you had chided yourself, and yet, it still stung. So much so that when you had a moment alone, and he dared to offer you a afternoon tea, you exploded. In a flurry of humiliating confessions that burned not only your face, but his own. Clearly caught off guard as he had followed your hand waves, listened to you blast off word after word. Word vomit. Official diagnosis, but you couldn’t stop. Couldn’t contain yourself at the time. What. The. Hell. Was this?? The humbling moment more than you could bear. As he gently enfolded his hand around your own frantic tremble. Drawing you forward before meeting your eyes. “We’re together, aren’t we?”

                For Aizawa Shota, it was that simple. He enjoyed your company, found comfort in your company, and if you felt the same, it was simple to conclude after all those dates (yeah, he had considered them dates too), that you were together.

                The giggle that passed between your lips. As you tenderly folded yet another crane. Unaware that your reminiscing had shaken him from his slumber. A thousand cranes, you whispered to yourself. It had been only a few days ago when Aizawa had explained to Eri the myth of Senbazuru. It had happened when she had witnessed paper cranes out on one of your walks together, her eyes full of wonder as he recanted the myth, and something about the moment had clung to you with the same sense of awe. While you had grown up knowing the tale of Senbazuru—you had never wanted a wish granted more. Fold over fold, you had told yourself that you shouldn’t be selfish. Wish for his happiness. Wish for his heart to heal.

                But as the arms that held you so tenderly wrapped around your shoulders. The nose that nuzzled into our neck. Affection in a sleep daze. The way you melted in his hold as you breathed in his warm… Yes, you should wish for his happiness. His happiness, you had told yourself, but couldn’t prevent the thoughts as you continued to fold the paper between practiced fingers.

                I wish we could stay like this. Forever.

[itsgerges]

Best Greetings

Why Do The Planets Motions Use Different Rates Of Time?

In my paper I prove the planets motions use different rates of time – here – let's explain the reason of this use.

The planets matters and their distances are created from one energy- this energy is provided by One Light Beam- The planets are similar to geometrical points found on this one light beam- by that the planets are similar to knots (or nodes) on ONE rope or cable.  

The planets are carried on this light beam and move by this light motion

By that- The Planets Are Similar To Carriages In One Train- and the light beam motion is this train engine- the light moves carrying all planets with it- 

Light moves one motion and passes one distance in one period of time- The planets have to move this same motion and pass this same distance in this same period of time- BUT –

The planets velocities are less than light velocity for that the planets use rates of time for their motions– by the rates of time using- the planets move equal distances in equal periods of time and this distance equal also the light motion distance.

For example

Mercury velocity =1.6 Earth velocity, for that, one hour of Mercury clock= 1.6 hours of the Earth clock and by that Mercury and the Earth move equal distance in equal periods of time. 

Let's ask

How Do The Planets Motions Use Different Rates Of Time?

The Rate (One Second Of Light Clock = One Solar Day Of A Planet Clock)

By this rate the planets move

The Rate between the planets is (One hour Of Mercury Clock = 24 hours of Any Planet Clock)

Based on this rate the planets motions are unified together into One Unified Motion

The used rate (One Day Of The Sun Clock = 365.25 Days Of The Earth Clock)

By This Rate The Sun Rays Is Created By The Planets Motions Energies

Means- the sun is NOT doing nuclear fusion to produce its rays– instead- the planets motions energies total is used as the sun rays source- The sun is a phenomenon created by the planets motions energies.

Notice

The Rate Of Time = The Velocities Rate

The rate of time controls the moving energy amount from a point to another.

THE PROOF

300000 km = 7.1 x (205.8)^2

A velocity 297000 km (99% speed of light) causes Lorentz length contraction effect with the rate 7.1

The velocity (205.8 km/s) = the 9 planets velocities total + the Earth moon velocity

The velocity (205.8 km/s) moves during 205.8 seconds a distance 42253 km

Where 300000 = 7.1 x 42253 km BUT 42253 = (205.8)^2

BUT

Let's explain The squared value (205.8)^2 in following…………

The rate of time depends on the velocities rate

If – For example – Venus (35 km/s) moves relative to a stationary point (its velocity 1 km/s)- in this case– the rate of time would be (1 =35) means – one second of Venus Clock= 35 seconds of this stationary point velocity     

Similar to that -

This moving point (205.8 km/s) relative to a stationary point (1 km/s) this motion creates a rate of time (one second of the moving point 205.8 km/s be equal = 205.8 seconds of the stationary point 1 km/s)

But still we can't reach to the value (42253 = (205.8)^2)!

In fact– the energy is reflected in the solar system- and that caused to reflect the players- for that- (one second of the stationary point 1 km/s be = 205.8 seconds of the moving point 205.5 km/s) - and

During one second of (the stationary point clock), the moving point clock is 205.8 seconds and the moving point (205.8 km/s) moves during 205.58 seconds 42253 km 

And by Lorentz effect rate (7.1) this value (42253) will be equal (300000 km)

(The Stationary Point Is The Sun)

Means- to create a low velocity based on the speed of light (300000 km/s) it was necessary to use the rates of time tool otherwise the velocity 300000 km/s can't create any smaller velocity and be alone for ever.

Thanks a lot – please read

Physics Nobel Prize For Imaginary Ideas!

or

Gerges Francis Tawdrous +201022532292

Peoples' Friendship university of Russia – Moscow

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[justmightyshadows]

BG3 Fic Feb Day 9

Keeping on with the prompts this time for healing(again)! If you like it show it love on AO3

Jaheria x Thalwyn(aka Tav)

The trees outside of Baldur’s Gate were unremarkable - nothing like the behemoths of the old forests of the Dalelands, but looking up into their arms and around their leaves you felt at home. The others had settled in for dinner but you were content to catch the last rays of the sun under the canopy of the small forest, it gave you a feeling of belonging and was also something to do until Jaheira returned from the hunt. The gentle breeze passed over you like a blanket and before you knew it you had dozed off into a meditative state.

You awoke with the moon peeking onto the horizon, shook the stray leaves off your body and went to find Jaheira. You peeked in and saw she wasn’t there so, you headed to the rampart at the edge of camp that you’d been using as a lookout spot, to get a better view. Jaheira was not known to be stationary but it was odd of her not to retire to her tent at night. Maybe she had finally fallen for one of the companions. They were all constantly talking about who would end up with who and the betting was that Lae’zel would be the one to catch her attention first. Bullshit in your opinion, or at least you hoped it wasn’t true.

Finding her was easy enough as you made your way into the rampart she was there in the corner of the first floor, propped up against a wall, her hand held over her side, a small trail of her blood leading to the doorway you stand in. She bared her teeth, showing off the ease of her transformation powers - her mouth full of dagger like canines, her eyes large black rounds as she prepared to attack whatever had disturbed her. When she made eye contact with you she froze, her elf-like features slid back onto her face as her emotions seemed to shift from shock, to worry, to maybe embarrassment. She lashed out with her words next “You should not sneak up on people like that, Thav. I could have bit your head off just now!” She seemed to soften halfway through the sentence and by the end a small smile had spread across her lips. She was the only one who said the ‘H’ in your name and when she was in need of a favor she had even taken to saying it fully, Thalwyn.

“I see your hunt has left you with injuries - maybe you’re a bit too slow on the draw now. Let me help you.” You fired back as casually as you could muster while coming to kneel softly by her side. As always she smelled of fir trees and fresh rain, you wondered if it was because she was a druid or because she was her. Either way you leaned in closer to her, hoping to get lost in it.

“You should see my hunt, then we can speak about slowing down.” She narrowed her eyes and spoke with a strained voice - it was obvious she was suffering and you were running out of time to help. “We can save the story til after I’ve healed you. You don’t sound great.” You reached out to her without waiting for her response, grabbing hold of the clasps that kept her armor on. Your fingers stumbled a bit under her gaze but soon you had undone them all and gingerly pulled it away from her body. You leaned down to get a better view of the wound and saw the misty haze of necrotic energy that radiated from her.

Damn.

That’s why she couldn’t heal, you thought, but what could she have been hunting that left her with an injury like this? Unless she had started to go after necromancers in her free time it didn’t make any sense. Your eyes narrowed with confusion and before you could ask her for more information, she read the signs along your face and responded. “I was hunting a deer, as usual, when I found myself face to face with one of those shadow beasts - in my desire for a good hunt I had strayed too close to the shadows. It caught me off-guard is all, but it is just a kitchen scratch surely.” Her face softened again like it always did when she was caught being foolish or wrong. In the flickering of the light you could see the sweat on her face, the grime that covered her and the strained edges of her smile. She was putting on a brave face, you leaned in again your voice whisper light and warm to keep her from turning from you. “The wound can be healed Jaheira - but it must be with fire and it will hurt. Our other option is to wake Shadowheart and ask for help.” Jaheira scowled, sighed deeply, cursed under her breath before taking a short knife and cutting the rest of the shirt away to give better access to the wound.

“Then make it swift and have a steady hand.” She pulled you close and held her hands tight to your torso to brace herself.

When you suggested this you’d assumed she’d want to keep Shadowheart out of it but you had not actually dealt with this type of injury many times before - it had been almost 200 years since shadows encroached on your forests. This was a bad time to admit that fact however, so you straightened your face and brought forth a thin flame within your hand. The key was to act as if you had done this before and to not look nervous, Jaheira could smell nervous a mile away. The lighting was shit and her shaky breathing was making the wound jump erratically as you approached. “Hold you breath, High Harper” you said with a bit of a devilish grin. She looked annoyed at your ribbing given the situation but, if it were her, she’d never pass up a moment to make a joke so you didn’t feel bad getting her when she could not return fire.

You pushed your hand forward burning the wound as she tried her best to be still, her fingers digging into your sides like daggers, her eyes laser focused on you until you reached the middle where she leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder to stop herself from screaming.

But just as soon as it had started, it was done. Her grip on you loosened but her eyes were round and wet still, you took the small bit of fabric she cut off and dabbed the edges of them before she could regain enough energy to fight back.

“As expected the High Harper comes out from being burned alive unscathed. ” You joke at her, your face adorned with a full greedy smile.

“When you have seen as many battles as I have - you will understand, little ranger.” She joked back, teasing you about your height. She leaned forward and pressed your foreheads together. Your heart began to work in double time, you could feel it throbbing all the way in your head and you wondered if she could too. Had you two ever been close like this before? You racked your brain but could only find images that you had created, dreams that you had hoped would come to light. Her voice was low and sweet, more vulnerable than it had ever been before this point.

“Where were you when I came back? I went to your tent first, then I tried to make it up to your bird’s nest. Thalwyn, I was so tired.” She sighed deeply as she rubbed your cheeks together “I was waiting here in case you made your way in or out.” Your stomach dropped and you froze in the act of nestling back against her.

She had come to you first? And in this case second as well? This was what you had wanted and when it was time for it to happen you were doing what? You thought back over the evening and a wave of embarrassment came over you. Napping? You cursed the gentle breeze and the perfectly placed trees. You had to make amends somehow, had what you done already started to do that?

“First, I am honored that I was your first choice. Second, I am so sorry Jaheira, I’m ashamed to say I was passing time until you returned and fell asleep underneath the tree canopy.” You brought your arms to her sides and pulled her in closer - careful not to disturb her wound. You wanted to ask for a do-over, but part of you felt that even with the delay you had come through for her. She was missing and you went to look for her - that had to count for something. “Sleeping on the job again? You certainly are not trying to get on my good side.” Another joke - she was trying to relieve the pressure from

you but you knew she had been hurt and probably worried. She had turned to you and you had not been there at first, too busy sleeping your time away. It was too serious of a subject for now so you ate your words instead and tried to make her smile. “I have never been good at making my superiors happy - lounging and wasting the days away has always been something I’m happy to do. No day is wasted under the sun or in the embrace of nature. My motto is ‘Work can wait.’ I take it very seriously as you’ve just found out. ” Jaheira laughed so hard at the audacity that she began to wince. “Let me help you back to your tent” You offered, happy with the smile that still hung on her lips but ready to get her proper rest. “No, is this where you have spent the last couple of nights? I feel I have missed you each time I’ve come by.” Another dagger - you hadn’t been in your tent in days. The fresh air of the rooftop put your mind at ease. Maybe she thought you were avoiding her, what a thought, when every waking minute you had wondered about her whereabouts. “Yes, I’ve been here, but up the ladder.” You pointed to a 5 story ladder at the edge of the room. “Right, your bird’s nest. Can you show it to me, Thalwyn? ”

She didn’t drop a nickname or say a joke surprisingly. You’d have done it either way, you’d have done anything she asked today. You reached down and picked up her discarded armor then lifted her on your back with one swift motion. She gripped you tightly as you went up the ladder.

She waited until you put her down to poke fun at you again as if she were scared that you would have dropped her seconds before “I did not think you had the strength to carry me, with those arms.”

She poked your arms and was met with a good bit of muscle. Her eyebrows raised in appreciation “But I must not have judged you fairly.” She finished with a soft caress. The top of the rampart was littered with furs and pages of notes from the surrounding area. You had been cataloging the wildlife and making plans for new armor designs in your free time. She settled onto the stone and asked for a wash basin which you provided. “Do you want my spare tunic?” She nodded so, you threw a thin eleven tunic at her and turned your back to give her privacy.

“Scared to look upon me?” She teased you.

“I will look when you are ready.” You answered not taking her goading in this case.

She finished and then began to rummage through your things until she found a large wooden panther that you had whittled over the past week. “I see I was on your mind.” She said brandishing it toward your face and noting the scar above its eye that matched hers. You ears began to burn with embarrassment - you forgot you had that there. This was the problem with trying to hide things from Jaheira, she always found them. That seemed to apply to your thoughts as well as your things. “I didn’t think you would ever see it.” Which was a weak but truthful answer. “It is good work.” She said placing it back down and stacking all of your papers together underneath it. Her timing was incredible as the wind whipped along the rampart and blew your hair violently into your face. You tried to push it back but you could not get a good hold of it, her hands met your shoulders and you heard her voice clearly. “SIT” it demanded. So you did and soon her hands were rubbing along your scalp, in your hair, braiding it with speed and precision until your vision had cleared. She tossed the braid to the side and leaned down behind you, planting the softest kiss on your now exposed shoulder.

“I would like to stay here tonight.” She said her lips touching against your ear.

Your heart almost stopped from the sensation. Her lips lifted from your skin but left a mark upon your psyche. The heat rose within your body as you turned to face her, your hand lifted gently to cup the edges of her face - did you need to say yes? Wasn’t it so plainly clear that you had said yes many weeks ago. You met her eyes and felt her arms wrap warmly around your body - the moon sitting high in the sky staring down at you both with admiration. Washing over your bodies with it’s radiant light, you worried that words left unsaid would be your undoing so you made sure to whisper-

“Yes, of course. ”

[kumeko]

A/N: For the @theclotizine! I wanted to sink into that longing taking place after Cloud leaves for SOLDIER and before he returns in Crisis Core.

…

…

…

…

Cloud stared at the blank sheet. In the morning light, it shone brightly, its pristineness mocking him. It had been weeks since he’d bought the simple stationary set, a soft creamy letterhead that was utterly too expensive for his purposes. Yet the envelopes were a warm red, the same colour as Tifa’s eyes, and even now he found his own drawn to them. It almost made up for the fact that he didn’t have any pictures of her to carry around.

The only issue was that he hadn’t sent even a single letter in those weeks. His hand clenched the pen tightly, trembling as he tried to find the right words to scrawl across the page. The only ones he’d found were the address.

Biting his cheek, he tried again.

Dear Tifa—no, that sounded too intimate, too personal. They’d had only a few stolen conversations, a single night under the stars, and he wasn’t even sure if she thought of him as a friend, let alone something more.

Tifa,

How are you? I’m

He paused once more, not sure what to write after that. Doing great? That’d be a lie. Cloud couldn’t even claim that he was fine. He just was. His days were spent going through the motions: eating, training, running grunt errands. His nights were filled with the utter realization that he was never going to advance, that becoming a hero and returning home to her awed smile was just a pipe dream.

I’m not a SOLDIER. I can’t save you. I can’t save anyone. I can’t do anything. I’m no one. I’m nothing.

Unable to stop himself, the words just flowed out. His fears, his failures, the stark realization that he’d never be able to keep his promise. Somehow, it was worse to see it on paper, to see the black ink in the sunlight. Somehow, it was a relief to admit it, even if only to himself.

Maybe her father had been right to keep Tifa away from him all those years ago. There was nothing he could offer her. Not even this simple letter.

“Hey!”

A knock on the door jerked him out of his thoughts, back to the inn room he was staying in. Looking over his shoulder, Cloud quickly covered his letter with his hand as he spotted his squadron leader standing at the door. “Y-yes?”

“Time to go,” the man answered curtly. He didn’t bother to wait for a response before turning on his heel and moving on to the next grunt.

“Yes…” Cloud glanced at the paper one last time.

I’m nothing.

He crumpled the paper before packing up.

-x-

The stars were bright tonight. Tifa paused as she walked along the mountain path home, leaning back slightly to admire the view. Keeping a hand on her hat, she smiled. The stars were bright every night, if she were honest, but tonight they felt especially shiny. Maybe it was because it was an almost moonless night, with a few of its cold rays escaping the slim crescent shape. Or maybe it was because there was no one else on the road home, the rest of her village already tucked safely inside their homes.

Or, most likely, this was all her boredom talking. Tifa glanced over her shoulder to the mountains she guided strangers through. When she’d picked the job, she’d thought it was her first step out into the world. An easy way to meet new people and learn about distant places before she headed out herself.

Instead, it was a repetitive chore. Every day she parroted the same words, answered the same questions. The only break from the monotony was her martial arts practice, and even that was starting to get old.

Tifa stretched her hand above her, trying to grasp the just out of reach stars. “What am I doing?”

Her sensei would say that she was being impatient, that she was still young and there was more than enough time to explore the world. Her father would tell her to stop thinking such silly thoughts, to stay in this safe little town tucked in the middle of nowhere.

I’ll go.

Her breath caught for a moment, her hand closing involuntarily at the memory. For a second, she was sitting next to a boy who looked at her as though she were the sun and moon, his body so close that she could feel the heat radiating off him. He’d listened as she confessed her dreams, not even batting an eye before declaring he would leave too.

That he’d save her, if she ever needed it.

Tifa had almost forgotten that night, that promise. That boy who had stepped out into the world first, never to return. It was only on nights like this, when she was alone with her thoughts, did she let herself touch that memory.

Her lips parted, and she breathed, “Hey, Cloud.”

Somewhere across the world, she wondered if he heard her. If his ears perked a little, if his heart ached faintly from a memory he’d long abandoned.

“You know, the town hasn’t changed much since you’d left. It’s still quiet and sleepy. A little too safe and boring, though I guess that isn’t the worst.” She chuckled wryly. “I can guess why you haven’t come back. It’s more interesting out there, isn’t it? I wouldn’t come back either.”

She stared at the stars now. “Hey, are you seeing this too? Are the stars the same where you are?”

Just looking at them made Tifa feel restless. An impatience ran through her bones, an eagerness to just get up and do something. What, she didn’t know. It was more than just leaving her home. It was like she was holding her breath, waiting for something to start, for something to end.

“You know, sometimes I wonder if the reason you’re not coming back is that you’re waiting for me out there, but…that’s not right, is it?” Tifa lowered her fisted hand to her chest.

It was a letter she could never write. A letter she could never send. She’d composed these words a thousand times in her head and they all ended with the same question:

Do you miss me?

And even the boy in her mind shook his head, giving her a rejection that she didn’t want to hear. She opened her hand and it was empty. Of course it was, she couldn’t grab the stars, not here, not anywhere. Staring at her palm, Tifa’s shoulders sank. “What am I doing?” she asked herself again.

Tifa pulled her hat lower on her head and started walking home once more. In all the ways that mattered, she was a coward.

No wonder he had disappeared without a second thought.

[dirt-clod]

doctors appt next Monday to check on my wrist but I’m so scared for this week..it’s only getting worse and it’s moved up my arm, its been a constant pain even when I’m sleeping or just sitting with my hand stationary. I’m not sure the brace even helps since it’s mostly aggravated by twisting motions that the brace doesn’t really prevent..I usually work 9+ hours on Mondays and make double batches of scones which involves a lot of kneading/whisking/rolling motions and scooping cookie dough out of the mixing bowl hurts so bad too/honestly I think that could be where the initial strain happened bc my hand is flexing in a weird way with that task and I remember getting a bad twinge while doing it ages ago :/ don’t even want to ride my bike because my right hand is just not reliable anymore, holding the handlebar or pulling the brake can feel so bad. Idk how in the last week or two it went from a like sometimes 4 or 5 to a like constant 8 or 9. I want an x ray or something, lemme see what’s going on in there

[ncx-tec]

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[dredshirtroberts]

There are some things I don't think I will ever be able to forgive my parents for.

The internal voice in my head that blames my pain on what i did or didn't do - mainly didn't do, because of course if i moved around more i wouldn't be injured (let's just conveniently ignore/forget most of my injuries happened while at my most active). And obviously i don't move around enough because 1) they didn't see it and 2) i'm fat (derogatory).

This is, of course patently incorrect. first of all i am shaped like a gravitationally-powered time piece and have been since i was young. But apparently that is enough to be deemed "fat" by my family since i grew tits at age 9-10. Like and fat isn't a bad thing?? and you can be healthy and active while fat??? and i was! i was very active and...well i can't say healthy during that period of time because i was actively starving most of it because - as i was perceived as fat - i was berated about my food intake (at *minimum* it was commented on snidely) and constantly monitored about what i could have and when i could have it. My parents were on yo-yo diets constantly during my teen years when i was running Multiple Miles A Day, at minimum 3 days a week, or swimming actively anywhere from 2 hours a day 3 days a week to 3 hours a day nearly 5 days a week.

My knee blew out and swelled up to 2x its size while i was a councilor in training at a summer camp for 2 weeks. My shoulder blew out mid lap, mid practice and i finished the practice before i mentioned it and it *was* x-rayed but i never found out what happened to it. If mom heard back about it, she never told me. I *fell off* horses TWICE, once getting kicked in the ribs at 10, and the second one i tore a huge chunk of skin off my hand and had scrapes on my back from getting dragged through gravel. AFTER WHICH I WENT TO SWIM PRACTICE. And then there was the tap dancing which i did *along side training for half-marathons*. WITH MY PARENTS. I DID THIS WITH THEM. THEY KNEW I DID THIS MUCH.

but because i tended to stay pretty stationary at home (god why wouldn't i? even if i wasn't fucking DISABLED with a CHRONIC PAIN ISSUE from my CONNECTIVE TISSUE DISORDER (as of yet unnamed specifically - i *really* need to get my shit together and see a doctor) I was exhausted because i WAS RUNNING SEVERAL MILES IN THE MORNING AND THEN EXPECTED TO TEACH MYSELF MY OWN FUCKING SCHOOL WORK.

but yeah i was lazy and didn't move around enough and so any injuries i got, or stiffness and pain when i moved from my stationary position was my fault. My knee wouldn't have blown out if i didn't sit with it tucked up underneath me. My shoulder wouldn't have blown out if I...idk been more careful??? doing the same stroke i'd been doing the same way for several years at that point?

I walked FIVE MILES A DAY, EVERY DAY, FIVE DAYS A WEEK. at my most recent job *just to get to the damn job*, let alone the 10-12 HOURS ON MY FEET WHILE THERE before i burnt out (gee I WONDER WHY) and thankfully shortly thereafter i got a car so I could make it to the shifts I could still work at that point, ones that got shorter and shorter as my body just failed right out from underneath me. IN FUCKING FOOD SERVICE. (notably a rather physically intensive job)

My pain during my desk job years was from sitting still too long. My pain during training during my athletics was from not stretching enough, not being careful enough. My pain during the physically taxing jobs was because i didn't move enough during the day so of course i was going to hurt myself.

no matter what i did. it was my fault i hurt. it couldn't ever be that there was something wrong with me that they needed to help me look into. And i internalized the shit out of that.

I tweaked my back the other day. Don't know what i did. it's been like 3 days now, and i move really stiffly because it's my lower back, near my hips and tailbone, and it hurts to move. i've taken meds 2ce today and i am *really bad* at taking meds during the day. i stretch during the day, i get up and move around as best i can - i might not do it as often as i probably *should* but if you were in pain you'd do your best not to move as much too! it hurts!

but gosh if i only moved more, lost weight, could turn straw into gold and spin my hair into a rope to reach the stars. Then I wouldn't be in pain and really it's my own fault. Right?

[20k-leagues-speedrun]

CHAPTER X THE SUBMARINE COAL-MINES

The next day, the 20th of February, I awoke very late: the fatigues of the previous night had prolonged my sleep until eleven o’clock. I dressed quickly, and hastened to find the course the Nautilus was taking. The instruments showed it to be still toward the south, with a speed of twenty miles an hour and a depth of fifty fathoms.

The species of fishes here did not differ much from those already noticed. There were rays of giant size, five yards long, and endowed with great muscular strength, which enabled them to shoot above the waves; sharks of many kinds; amongst others, one fifteen feet long, with triangular sharp teeth, and whose transparency rendered it almost invisible in the water.

Amongst bony fish Conseil noticed some about three yards long, armed at the upper jaw with a piercing sword; other bright-coloured creatures, known in the time of Aristotle by the name of the sea-dragon, which are dangerous to capture on account of the spikes on their back.

About four o’clock, the soil, generally composed of a thick mud mixed with petrified wood, changed by degrees, and it became more stony, and seemed strewn with conglomerate and pieces of basalt, with a sprinkling of lava. I thought that a mountainous region was succeeding the long plains; and accordingly, after a few evolutions of the Nautilus, I saw the southerly horizon blocked by a high wall which seemed to close all exit. Its summit evidently passed the level of the ocean. It must be a continent, or at least an island—one of the Canaries, or of the Cape Verde Islands. The bearings not being yet taken, perhaps designedly, I was ignorant of our exact position. In any case, such a wall seemed to me to mark the limits of that Atlantis, of which we had in reality passed over only the smallest part.

Much longer should I have remained at the window admiring the beauties of sea and sky, but the panels closed. At this moment the Nautilus arrived at the side of this high, perpendicular wall. What it would do, I could not guess. I returned to my room; it no longer moved. I laid myself down with the full intention of waking after a few hours’ sleep; but it was eight o’clock the next day when I entered the saloon. I looked at the manometer. It told me that the Nautilus was floating on the surface of the ocean. Besides, I heard steps on the platform. I went to the panel. It was open; but, instead of broad daylight, as I expected, I was surrounded by profound darkness. Where were we? Was I mistaken? Was it still night? No; not a star was shining and night has not that utter darkness.

I knew not what to think, when a voice near me said:

“Is that you, Professor?”

“Ah! Captain,” I answered, “where are we?”

“Underground, sir.”

“Underground!” I exclaimed. “And the Nautilus floating still?”

“It always floats.”

“But I do not understand.”

“Wait a few minutes, our lantern will be lit, and, if you like light places, you will be satisfied.”

I stood on the platform and waited. The darkness was so complete that I could not even see Captain Nemo; but, looking to the zenith, exactly above my head, I seemed to catch an undecided gleam, a kind of twilight filling a circular hole. At this instant the lantern was lit, and its vividness dispelled the faint light. I closed my dazzled eyes for an instant, and then looked again. The Nautilus was stationary, floating near a mountain which formed a sort of quay. The lake, then, supporting it was a lake imprisoned by a circle of walls, measuring two miles in diameter and six in circumference. Its level (the manometer showed) could only be the same as the outside level, for there must necessarily be a communication between the lake and the sea. The high partitions, leaning forward on their base, grew into a vaulted roof bearing the shape of an immense funnel turned upside down, the height being about five or six hundred yards. At the summit was a circular orifice, by which I had caught the slight gleam of light, evidently daylight.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“In the very heart of an extinct volcano, the interior of which has been invaded by the sea, after some great convulsion of the earth. Whilst you were sleeping, Professor, the Nautilus penetrated to this lagoon by a natural canal, which opens about ten yards beneath the surface of the ocean. This is its harbour of refuge, a sure, commodious, and mysterious one, sheltered from all gales. Show me, if you can, on the coasts of any of your continents or islands, a road which can give such perfect refuge from all storms.”

“Certainly,” I replied, “you are in safety here, Captain Nemo. Who could reach you in the heart of a volcano? But did I not see an opening at its summit?”

“Yes; its crater, formerly filled with lava, vapour, and flames, and which now gives entrance to the life-giving air we breathe.”

“But what is this volcanic mountain?”

“It belongs to one of the numerous islands with which this sea is strewn—to vessels a simple sandbank—to us an immense cavern. Chance led me to discover it, and chance served me well.”

“But of what use is this refuge, Captain? The Nautilus wants no port.”

“No, sir; but it wants electricity to make it move, and the wherewithal to make the electricity—sodium to feed the elements, coal from which to get the sodium, and a coal-mine to supply the coal. And exactly on this spot the sea covers entire forests embedded during the geological periods, now mineralised and transformed into coal; for me they are an inexhaustible mine.”

“Your men follow the trade of miners here, then, Captain?”

“Exactly so. These mines extend under the waves like the mines of Newcastle. Here, in their diving-dresses, pick axe and shovel in hand, my men extract the coal, which I do not even ask from the mines of the earth. When I burn this combustible for the manufacture of sodium, the smoke, escaping from the crater of the mountain, gives it the appearance of a still-active volcano.”

“And we shall see your companions at work?”

“No; not this time at least; for I am in a hurry to continue our submarine tour of the earth. So I shall content myself with drawing from the reserve of sodium I already possess. The time for loading is one day only, and we continue our voyage. So, if you wish to go over the cavern and make the round of the lagoon, you must take advantage of to-day, M. Aronnax.”

I thanked the Captain and went to look for my companions, who had not yet left their cabin. I invited them to follow me without saying where we were. They mounted the platform. Conseil, who was astonished at nothing, seemed to look upon it as quite natural that he should wake under a mountain, after having fallen asleep under the waves. But Ned Land thought of nothing but finding whether the cavern had any exit. After breakfast, about ten o’clock, we went down on to the mountain.

“Here we are, once more on land,” said Conseil.

“I do not call this land,” said the Canadian. “And besides, we are not on it, but beneath it.”

Between the walls of the mountains and the waters of the lake lay a sandy shore which, at its greatest breadth, measured five hundred feet. On this soil one might easily make the tour of the lake. But the base of the high partitions was stony ground, with volcanic locks and enormous pumice-stones lying in picturesque heaps. All these detached masses, covered with enamel, polished by the action of the subterraneous fires, shone resplendent by the light of our electric lantern. The mica dust from the shore, rising under our feet, flew like a cloud of sparks. The bottom now rose sensibly, and we soon arrived at long circuitous slopes, or inclined planes, which took us higher by degrees; but we were obliged to walk carefully among these conglomerates, bound by no cement, the feet slipping on the glassy crystal, felspar, and quartz.

The volcanic nature of this enormous excavation was confirmed on all sides, and I pointed it out to my companions.

“Picture to yourselves,” said I, “what this crater must have been when filled with boiling lava, and when the level of the incandescent liquid rose to the orifice of the mountain, as though melted on the top of a hot plate.”

“I can picture it perfectly,” said Conseil. “But, sir, will you tell me why the Great Architect has suspended operations, and how it is that the furnace is replaced by the quiet waters of the lake?”

“Most probably, Conseil, because some convulsion beneath the ocean produced that very opening which has served as a passage for the Nautilus. Then the waters of the Atlantic rushed into the interior of the mountain. There must have been a terrible struggle between the two elements, a struggle which ended in the victory of Neptune. But many ages have run out since then, and the submerged volcano is now a peaceable grotto.”

“Very well,” replied Ned Land; “I accept the explanation, sir; but, in our own interests, I regret that the opening of which you speak was not made above the level of the sea.”

“But, friend Ned,” said Conseil, “if the passage had not been under the sea, the Nautilus could not have gone through it.”

We continued ascending. The steps became more and more perpendicular and narrow. Deep excavations, which we were obliged to cross, cut them here and there; sloping masses had to be turned. We slid upon our knees and crawled along. But Conseil’s dexterity and the Canadian’s strength surmounted all obstacles. At a height of about 31 feet the nature of the ground changed without becoming more practicable. To the conglomerate and trachyte succeeded black basalt, the first dispread in layers full of bubbles, the latter forming regular prisms, placed like a colonnade supporting the spring of the immense vault, an admirable specimen of natural architecture. Between the blocks of basalt wound long streams of lava, long since grown cold, encrusted with bituminous rays; and in some places there were spread large carpets of sulphur. A more powerful light shone through the upper crater, shedding a vague glimmer over these volcanic depressions for ever buried in the bosom of this extinguished mountain. But our upward march was soon stopped at a height of about two hundred and fifty feet by impassable obstacles. There was a complete vaulted arch overhanging us, and our ascent was changed to a circular walk. At the last change vegetable life began to struggle with the mineral. Some shrubs, and even some trees, grew from the fractures of the walls. I recognised some euphorbias, with the caustic sugar coming from them; heliotropes, quite incapable of justifying their name, sadly drooped their clusters of flowers, both their colour and perfume half gone. Here and there some chrysanthemums grew timidly at the foot of an aloe with long, sickly-looking leaves. But between the streams of lava, I saw some little violets still slightly perfumed, and I admit that I smelt them with delight. Perfume is the soul of the flower, and sea-flowers have no soul.

We had arrived at the foot of some sturdy dragon-trees, which had pushed aside the rocks with their strong roots, when Ned Land exclaimed:

“Ah! sir, a hive! a hive!”

“A hive!” I replied, with a gesture of incredulity.

“Yes, a hive,” repeated the Canadian, “and bees humming round it.”

I approached, and was bound to believe my own eyes. There at a hole bored in one of the dragon-trees were some thousands of these ingenious insects, so common in all the Canaries, and whose produce is so much esteemed. Naturally enough, the Canadian wished to gather the honey, and I could not well oppose his wish. A quantity of dry leaves, mixed with sulphur, he lit with a spark from his flint, and he began to smoke out the bees. The humming ceased by degrees, and the hive eventually yielded several pounds of the sweetest honey, with which Ned Land filled his haversack.

“When I have mixed this honey with the paste of the bread-fruit,” said he, “I shall be able to offer you a succulent cake.”

[Transcriber’s Note: ’bread-fruit’ has been substituted for ’artocarpus’ in this ed.]

“’Pon my word,” said Conseil, “it will be gingerbread.”

“Never mind the gingerbread,” said I; “let us continue our interesting walk.”

At every turn of the path we were following, the lake appeared in all its length and breadth. The lantern lit up the whole of its peaceable surface, which knew neither ripple nor wave. The Nautilus remained perfectly immovable. On the platform, and on the mountain, the ship’s crew were working like black shadows clearly carved against the luminous atmosphere. We were now going round the highest crest of the first layers of rock which upheld the roof. I then saw that bees were not the only representatives of the animal kingdom in the interior of this volcano. Birds of prey hovered here and there in the shadows, or fled from their nests on the top of the rocks. There were sparrow hawks, with white breasts, and kestrels, and down the slopes scampered, with their long legs, several fine fat bustards. I leave anyone to imagine the covetousness of the Canadian at the sight of this savoury game, and whether he did not regret having no gun. But he did his best to replace the lead by stones, and, after several fruitless attempts, he succeeded in wounding a magnificent bird. To say that he risked his life twenty times before reaching it is but the truth; but he managed so well that the creature joined the honey-cakes in his bag. We were now obliged to descend toward the shore, the crest becoming impracticable. Above us the crater seemed to gape like the mouth of a well. From this place the sky could be clearly seen, and clouds, dissipated by the west wind, leaving behind them, even on the summit of the mountain, their misty remnants—certain proof that they were only moderately high, for the volcano did not rise more than eight hundred feet above the level of the ocean. Half an hour after the Canadian’s last exploit we had regained the inner shore. Here the flora was represented by large carpets of marine crystal, a little umbelliferous plant very good to pickle, which also bears the name of pierce-stone and sea-fennel. Conseil gathered some bundles of it. As to the fauna, it might be counted by thousands of crustacea of all sorts, lobsters, crabs, spider-crabs, chameleon shrimps, and a large number of shells, rockfish, and limpets. Three-quarters of an hour later we had finished our circuitous walk and were on board. The crew had just finished loading the sodium, and the Nautilus could have left that instant. But Captain Nemo gave no order. Did he wish to wait until night, and leave the submarine passage secretly? Perhaps so. Whatever it might be, the next day, the Nautilus, having left its port, steered clear of all land at a few yards beneath the waves of the Atlantic.

[mzhydes-funtimes]

Nah we should get a 2d sonic game with a buncha playable characters like sonic 3, or mania, or chaotix, or the new 2d one that no one liked bc they introducted the new character: Blue Bunny

Anyway I suck at level design (just look at my mario maker levels) but i can design characters pretty well and here is my idea for a 2d sonic game using the different skills and abilities of sonic characters

We have 3 inputs: jump, mid-jump action (shared with) action button 1, and action button 2

(Using the basic input buttons) you have (A): Jump/Double Jump, (B): Spin Dash/Mid Air Action, (X): Character Action

Next we have the characters (that have been playable in 2d): Sonic, Tails, Knuckles, Amy, Vector, Charmy, Espio, Mighty, Ray, Shadow, Cream and Cheese, Blaze, and Trip

Each of these characters have a unique action and other unique static action, with the exception of sonic

Each of those skills are as following:

Sonic - (B) (in midair) Homing Attack, (X) Light Dash

Tails - (B) (in midair) - Fly, (X) - Quick Bomb (similar to magolor's gem apples in kirby star allies)

Knuckles - (B) (in midair) - Glide/Wall Climb, (X) - Punch

Amy Rose - (B) (in midair) - Hammer Jump (similar to kirby forgotten land hammer fall but you get a higher jump than in kirby), (X) Hammer

Vector - (B) (in midair) - Running Glide, (X) - Jaw Punch (basically knuckles but with his mouth)

Espio - (B) - Wall Run, (B) (in midair) - Insta Shield, (X) Shuriken

Charmy - (B) - Wind Barrier (taken from his mission in generations), (X) - Pollenate (taken from heroes, he has like no notable skills in chaotix)

Mighty - (B) (in midair) - Stomp, (X) Shield/Shield Burst

Ray - (B) (in midair) - Brawl Glide (referencing brawl meta knight), (X) - Tail Sweep (stolen from tails SA1)

Shadow (same as sonic except) - (X) - Chaos Control (W/Chaos Meter) [similar to boost meter]

Cream - (X) - Cheese Attack!

Blaze - (B) - Air Dash, (X) - Flame Boost

Trip - (B) (in midair) Spike Jump, (X) Wall Stick (behaves like spike wisp)

Now i based this on their movesets and some characters dont have too much gameplay wise to make a full moveset like in sonic rush cream has like 2 skills other than jump and spin dash - flight, and cheese attacking, charmy and vector have even less but yknow i did my best, hell if someone could flesh these out more using lore and in game mechanics, by all means do that, and hell if someone wants to make a 2d sonic game based on this: by all means I think it would be fun, have like areas only meant for like 1 character or 1 group of characters, have special bosses for each path, hell have it so that some characters ger special unique stages (that could be accessed by other characters via debug), hell you could make it multiplayer and like have it so each player plays the game and eventually they get to face the final boss off together or somethin, idk its up to whoever wants to do this but to summerize the controls:

(A) - Jump, (A) (midair) - Midair Skill (optional), (B) - Spin Dash (Or Boost or other skill depending on character but mainly Spin Dash), (B) (midair) - Midair Skill, (X) Stationary Attack (except Boost, Light Dash, and Chaos Control)

[drnikolatesla]

The Discovery of Stationary Waves

One of Nikola Tesla’s major discoveries in the field of electricity was terrestrial stationary waves deriving from natural lightning discharges. In 1899, at Colorado Springs one night during a huge thunderstorm, Tesla was witness to thousands of lightning discharges within two hours. He recorded in great detail the many branches each flash of lighting and their sizes. As the storm began to fade away, Tesla connected a rotating coherer (a device he used for telegraphy in New York prior to his visit in both wireless signaling and in investigating the properties of x-rays) to the ground along with a plate above the ground. A condenser was also used to magnify the effects transmitted through the ground. His device was adjusted as the storm gradually dissipated, and he continued to adjust its sensitivity as the distance was extended. The receiver would continue to react even though the storm was up to 50 miles away based solely on sound waves. After the device stopped responding, Tesla deduced that the storm had passed at a distance too far away to record additional data points. Suddenly though, the receiver began to record again and surprisingly to Tesla, the recordings were also increasing in strength even though the storm had moved on to a point that was essentially out of sight. The device would then cease again for a bit, only to begin functioning once again. Tesla would continue adjusting the sensitivity on the coherer and the same results would occur. The device would continue playing after small intervals of time. To Tesla, this was the most wonderful and intriguing experience because it clearly showed the existence of terrestrial stationary waves. This discovery proved that the Earth is responsive to electrical vibrations of definite pitch just as a tuning fork to certain waves of sound, and these particular electrical vibrations are capable of powerfully exciting the Globe. It proved that power could indeed be transmitted through the Earth to far distances utilizing his oscillator (later known as his Magnifying Transmitter).

Tesla's ultimate plan was to throw the earth into resonant vibration similar to a tuning fork. He would strike the earth with his oscillator sending electrical ripples around the surface of the Earth, and when the energy would return he would again strike it simultaneously in vibrational process known as constructive interference (when two waves overlap in such a way that they combine to create a larger wave). This is NOT electromagnetic radiation, such as with visible light and radio waves. This was nothing like the radio antennas we use today. Tesla's goal was actually to minimize the electromagnetic radiation from the system as much as possible by containing 95 percent of the energy in a localized standing wave confined to the Earth, the opposite notion of traditional radio antennas which give off 90 percent of radiation through the air. Tesla measured these electrical ripples traveling around the entire circumference of the earth moving faster than the speed of light, specifically pi divided by 2 times the speed of light (1.57c).

Some may question the ability to transmit anything faster than the speed of light; however, the speed of light is a constant, not a limit. The velocity of light is an expression of the ratio of energy to mass; Tesla’s waves functioned on different dimensions. The electromagnetic waves we use in today’s technology (which are transverse waves) travel at the speed of light, but due to the nature of these waves, they diminish with distance. This phenomenon is because the electromagnetic lines of force and the magnetic lines of force intercept at right angles to one other, causing resistance (radiation resistance) . This is also why the waves eventually lose energy. Tesla, on the other hand, used an oscillating wave (or a longitudinal wave), in which the electromagnetic and magnetic lines of force run parallel with each other (hence there is no friction or loss of energy). As a result, the more power he used, the faster and further these waves could travel. Many electrical experimenters have proven this velocity, including Charles Wheatstone, Jonathan Zenneck, and Arnold Sommerfeld.

“By this invention every live part of Mother Earth’s body would be brought into action. Energy will be collected all over the globe in amounts small or large, as it may exist, ranging from a fraction of one to a few horse power or more. Every waterfall can be utilized, every coal field made to produce energy to be transmitted to vast distances, and every place on earth can have power at small cost. One of the minor uses might be the illumination of isolated homes. We could light houses all over the country by means of vacuum tubes operated by high frequency currents. We could keep the clocks of the United States going and give every one exact time; we could turn factories, machine shops and mills, small or large, anywhere, and I believe could also navigate the air." –Nikola Tesla