#and in some science classes

[starlightbright]

Getting REALLY tired of correlation = causation types of articles I keep seeing.

"Could owning a cat increase your chances of developing schizophrenia? Research shows that people with schizophrenia are more likely to own cats."

Cool. Um,

[uss-butterscotch]

Eddie almost becomes a 4th of July finger loss statistic and runs into a pair of sailors in the ER

cw: medical terminology, references to canon-typical gore

-

Eddie can feel his uncle’s glare from the seat next to him. He’s resolutely ignoring it and also attempting to ignore the pulsing pain in his hand, which he’s currently pressing a damp kitchen towel to.

Wayne, apparently, isn’t having it. “You know how many people blow their fingers off on this day every year, boy?” He says slowly.

Eddie presses his lips together. When he can’t hold his thoughts back anymore he half-whispers, “Last time I checked, all my fingers were still attached to my body.”

“They better continue to be that way by tomorrow morning.” Wayne huffs and leans back in his chair. Arms crossed tight over his chest.

They sit in silence for about 5 minutes before the doors to the emergency room practically fly open. The sudden movement draws Eddie’s eye.

He’s met with possibly the last thing he expects. The first thing he registers is that two of the people who just entered appear to be dressed like cartoon sailors, and that one of the sailors also appears to have been recently hit by a car, then the car reversed, and ran him over again.

The second thing he realizes is that the roadkill sailor is the one and only Steve Harrington. Not only is he Steve Harrington, he’s Steve Harrington, clearly on drugs.

“Hopper, we told you,” Harrington attempts to sound convincing while teetering precariously with every step, “we feel fine. I don’t even think this is as bad as last time. Nobody even… smashed anything into my head.”

The other sailor, whom Eddie has just identified as Robin Buckley, band kid and on Eddie’s short list of suspected fellow freaks.

“Nope!” Robin giggles, “just ripped a few fingernails out.” She wiggles her own fingers in front of Hopper’s face, which at the moment is locked in a simultaneously horrified and exasperated expression.

Now that attention has been called to it, and all of Robin’s fingers seem intact, Eddie sneaks a glance at Harrington’s hands, the left one of which appears to have bandages that are becoming soaked through with blood on the index and middle fingers.

“Maybe nothing got smashed into you, but Wheeler mentioned something about you smashing a certain commandeered vehicle into a certain Camaro.” Hopper leans in and speaks in a growl Eddie assumes he thinks passes for whispering, while directing Harrington and Buckley into matching plastic chairs to the one Eddie is currently occupying.

He gapes at them and blinks a few times before turning to see what his uncle thinks of this whole scene. He finds Wayne watching the newcomers with a slight squint to his eyes and a slight raise to his right eyebrow. A clear sign that he is equal parts concerned, Eddie would assume for the obvious poor condition of at least one of the teens, and intrigued, but not intrigued enough to risk intervening and complicating his already very mentally taxing evening.

Before he can do anything about any part of this scenario, a nurse calls Eddie’s name and in a blink he’s being led into the next stage of the hell of his own making. At first it’s several minutes of answering questions, nurses looking very intently at the half burn/half gash in his hand, and antiseptic. Finally he’s left alone for a few moments while they let the topical numbing cream set in.

There are two other beds in the section he’s been taken to. One of them is currently occupied by an older man, accompanied by a younger woman in a plastic chair next to him. Both of them appear to be fast asleep. The other bed is empty. Or at least, it is until there’s a commotion from the hallway, and the sailors are being ushered in Eddies direction, toward the bed next to his. Eddie catches bits of the conversation that leads to the two-high-teenagers-for-one deal he’s about to get.

Robin’s almost frantic voice, “No! They can’t separate us! Last time we got split up-“

“It’ll be fine, Rob, these guys are probably American.” Steve cuts her off nonsensically. Eddie kind of wishes he was on whatever stuff Steve was right now.

“Considering what you’ve tried to explain so far, I don’t know how much better that is.” Robin says, giggling again.

Steve clumsily grabs her hand with his right one, reaching across is own body awkwardly to get to her, and missing on the first attempt. “You also need to get looked at, little miss ‘ask me tomorrow’.”

Robin cringes at him, “Ok now I will leave you alone so you don’t call me ‘little miss’ again.”

Eddie watches the nurses lead Robin further down the hallway, and Steve to the bed next to his own. They’re left alone briefly after Steve gets settled and the nurse has rushed off to find a doctor.

The other teen stares almost blankly at him for a long moment before he exclaims suddenly, startling Eddie, “Munson! From Biology! That’s why you seem familiar.”

“Harrington,” Eddie replies, “you are aware we shared more classes than the one Biology period, right?”

Harrington blinks slowly with the eye that isn’t swollen shut. “No, actually, I dunno if you noticed, but I was sort of an asshole in high school, so…” he wobbles his head back and forth, “I kind of only remember that time you passed out when we dissected that cow eye.”

“Ah,” Eddie rolls his eyes and nods, “so you were an asshole in high school, but you’re not anymore. Got it.” He’s really going over the top with the sarcasm, but Harrington doesn’t seem to catch on.

“Yup. Earlier Robin said that I really was, but I’m not anymore, and she’s usually right about most things, even though it’s super annoying when she is right, because she won’t shut up about it, and she remembers stuff, like how many times I’m wrong and what I’m wrong about and what I ate for breakfast in Mrs. Click’s class and-“

He’s cut off by the nurse from before returning. “Sorry for making you wait, hon, it’s a real circus here tonight. While we wait for the doctor, I’m gonna get you set up with some fluids. The EMTs said you were pretty dehydrated.”

When she brandishes the needle in preparation for placing the IV, Eddie notices all the color that isn’t bruising drain from Harrington’s face. He tries to subtly scoot away from her, but the movement is a little too rushed to come from anywhere but a sense of panic.

“O-oh, no that’s, I’m okay, no-no thanks.” He stutters out, his breath coming in quick and shallow now.

“Oh, hon, it’s okay to be afraid of needles,” the nurse says sweetly, “just look away and take deep breaths, and it’ll be over in a pinch.”

Harrington winces at that. “I-I’m really- it’s- I’m fine, you don’t-“

He stops abruptly when what sounds like a screamed “No!”echoes from down the hallway. It takes half a second longer for Eddie to place the voice as Robin Buckley’s than it apparently takes Steve, because Eddie blinks and Harrington’s off the bed and rushing toward the voice with a half-shouted “Robin!”

The nurse, it seems, is just as stunned as Eddie, and it’s a few seconds before she’s racing after him down the hallway.

It isn’t until his stitches are almost halfway done that Harrington returns, now closely followed by Chief Hopper, and lead gingerly by the elbow by the nurse. The IV situation appears to have been solved, as he is now rolling a drip bag on a stand with his free hand.

Once Harrington is returned to his bed, Hopper leans over him slightly in what Eddie recognizes as his attempt to be intimidating. “Now listen closely, Harrington. You are going to stay right there in this bed, and do whatever Annette here asks you to do until I get back. Do I make myself clear?”

Steve stares at him open mouthed for a moment, before he starts giggling. “Huh, Mike’s right, you do have a little vein that pops out right…” he reaches up to try and poke Hopper in the forehead.

Before Hopper smacks his hand away, Eddie notices a thick band of bruising around Harrington’s wrist, adding to the already massive pile of questions he has about whatever series of events led to those two landing themselves here.

Steve is still giggling when Hopper stands back up, dragging a hand down his face. “Look. Just stay put for 20 minutes. Someone still has to call your damn parents.”

“Good luck with that,” Harrington says wearily to Hopper’s back as he retreats back toward the waiting room.

With all the commotion, Eddie almost forgets he’s currently getting his hand sewn back together. A distraction he’s secretly grateful for, since he was starting to get a little light headed thinking about it.

“Well, Eddie, that should be it,” the doctor says, patting the fresh bandage gently, “I’ll get someone to take care of your discharge papers and you’ll be on your way.”

Eddie gives a thumbs up with the hand that did not get nearly exploded several hours ago. As the doctor leaves, Eddie realizes he is once again left alone with Harrington. He can only handle about two minutes of the silence before he blurts out. “Ok, man, I’m dying to know. What the hell happened to you? You look like you rolled down a rocky cliffside for like a day straight.”

Harrington chuckles, “I feel like that.” He doesn’t say anything for a long moment before he apparently realizes Eddie asked him a question. “Oh, uh, the mall burned down.”

“Starcourt? The brand new mall?”

Harrington nods. “Yup.” He pops the p.

“Wh-” Eddie blinks at him in disbelief, “and you and Buckley..?”

“We were there, yeah.” He says it so nonchalantly Eddie almost thinks he’s messing with him.

“Right…” Eddie starts, not sure where he’s going before one of the questions swirling around his brain tumbles out of his mouth “so the mall was burning down and someone ripped your finger nails off?”

Harrington sits up straight, “How did you-?”

“I was in the waiting room when you came in,” Eddie answers in a rush, “overheard you and Buckley.”

“Oh.” Harrington says, then blinks slowly a few times and Eddie can almost hear him thinking. “Umm, no that happened… before the fire.” He finally says, frustratingly vague.

“Right, and the…” Eddie gestures vaguely to his own face in leu of actually asking.

Harrington hums. “Uhh, I think… falling debris…” he nods to himself, “yeah, you know, chunks of burning mall.” He mimes something falling from the sky and makes a cartoon explosion sound. Eddie’s not totally inclined to believe him, especially since he just noticed the finger shaped bruising on Harringtons arms.

“You think?” He presses.

Harrington huffs, almost like a kid throwing a tantrum. “Look man, I’m like super ultra concussed and on some kind of mystery drugs so my memory is like…” he flaps a hand around for a second, then lands on a thumbs down, “at the moment.”

Eddie nods. “Right, yeah, sorry.” Eddie puts his uninjured hand up in surrender, “Just, my curious nature, man.”

Steve shrugs, then winces. “Okay, my turn.” He points to Eddie’s bandaged hand, “What happened there?”

“Awesome firework experiment gone wrong.” Eddie says, deliberately not elaborating. It’s apparently enough for Steve who nods knowingly.

Another silence settles over the room, this time less awkward, but Eddie still feels the need to break it. “Okay this is my last question for real.” Harrington sighs, but motions for him to go on. “The outfit?”

He squints at Eddie for a moment. “Did you ever like, actually go to the mall?”

“Once. And it confirmed my suspicions that the whole thing was a capitalist nightmare that I in no way belonged within a thousand foot radius of.” Eddie proclaiming proudly.

Steve looked at him like he was speaking Spanish. “Um, sure. Yeah. That’s probably true.” He picks at some of the blood that has dried on the collar of his shirt. “Robin and I work, or, I guess worked, now that it doesn’t exist anymore, but, anyway it’s this ice cream place, and it’s like, ocean themed for some reason, so… sailors.”

The mood seems to have shifted slightly. Harrington’s no longer looking at him, instead focusing on his shoes, which also appear to be smudged with blood. No trace of the half smile that had been lingering from his random fits of giggles. With the way he’s fidgeting, it almost seems like he’s nervous.

Eddie decides the best way out of this is to pretend like he doesn’t notice and hope he can get the vibe back on track. “That sounds like the most ridiculous business I’ve ever heard of.”

Steve lets out a halfhearted chuckle. “Yeah, it was pretty stupid.”

They are both saved from trying to come up with a new direction for the conversation to go by the entrance of Robin Buckley, who is toting her own rolling stand of IV fluid with her.

“Dingus!” She calls, and Eddie notes the way Harrington relaxes slightly at seeing her. “I’m completely healthy!”

Steve mimes clapping and Robin bows dramatically. “I… am not.”

Robin taps his knee. “I could have probably told you that.” Her gaze scans the room, then catches on him. “Hey, you’re the guy that runs the D&D group, right?”

“In the flesh,” Eddie says, spreading his arms wide.

Robin cringes again. “Ew, don’t say flesh. I’ve had too much flesh for one day.”

Steve nods next to her. “He blew up his hand with fireworks.”

Robin gasps, “Really?” She turns to Steve, “I totally thought we were gonna do that, but” she holds out her hands, and while they themselves seem fine, Eddie notices the bruising on her wrists that match Harrington’s, “all my fingers. Intact.”

“That makes one of us,” he smirks and makes eye contact with Eddie.

“Did you know that on the Fourth of July, over 30% of hospital visits are related to injuries from fireworks” Robin says unprompted.

“Why would I know that.” Steve says flatly, “Why do you know that?”

Robin shrugs, “I read.”

It’s then that a nurse comes back to get Eddie out of there. As he goes, Steve waves a goodbye to him that he awkwardly returns. As he leaves them behind he hears Robin ask, “Did Johnathan Byers cut open a girl’s leg, or was that the drugs?”

He shakes his head as he returns to the waiting room, resigned to never have answers to his mountain of questions.

[asilentguardian]

Okay but I’d love to see your take on stepdad Hal attempt at parenting and trying not to overstep if you’re up for it

Thank you very much for the prompt! I love fics where Hal is slowly integrating into the batfam.

Please enjoy Hal's attempt at giving Tim advice, just in time for Hal's birthday!

-----

It’s a rare night. Bruce and Hal in the same bed, relatively early. Early meaning 11pm, but for them it’s a miracle. Hal thought that somehow being married would mean their schedules would magically align, that the universe would start seeing them as one person, one unit. But between Batman and the Green Lantern corps and their jobs and Bruce’s kids, there really isn’t time for them alone. Plenty of time to save the world together, to put out fires both literal and metaphorical, but little time for this. Laying together, falling asleep together.

Bruce has already slipped under, arm firmly around Hal’s waist. Hal would love to follow him, to curl against that heat, but Hal’s insomnia has joined them, too, and he can already tell it’s going to be a rough one. It hits him out of nowhere, sometimes, this restlessness. Bruce is still in the early stages, liable to rocket out of sleep if Hal tosses and turns too much. Good sleep is so rare for Bruce these days, so Hal begins the slow process of extracting himself from the bed and Bruce’s grip, only cheating a little bit with the ring to climb over him.

Nights like these used to find him fleeing the manor to the apartment he had refused to give up. But Bruce would inevitably come hunting him down, because he could never let anything go, and Hal would end up putting on a show of resisting, and they’d end up back in bed anyways. The apartment was another battle, one that Hal also ended up conceding. It still felt strange to have a permanent residence in Gotham, of all places.

Now, these nights have him wandering around the manor, exploring the library or one of the multiple sitting rooms or the kitchens until he inevitably runs into one of many nocturnal members of Bruce’s family. His family, really. Another argument they’ve run into, one that Hal isn’t quite ready to concede. He’s never seen himself with kids, doesn’t really think he’s cut out for that. He’s not a natural, not like Bruce.

The glow from the kitchen at the end of the hall tells Hal that he isn’t the only one awake, as usual. Hal makes his footsteps heavier, not willing to repeat the mistake of accidentally sneaking up on a bat. It’s Tim sitting at the counter tonight, another familiar sight.

“Hey kid,” Hal greets as he walks to the fridge. Tim grunts in acknowledgement, face still buried in his phone. It’s funny, the different ways Bruce is reflected in his children. Hal is certain he’s heard the same exact noise come out of Bruce when his attention is turned toward a case. Not that Hal would say so outloud. They all tend to get prickly, when he compares them to Bruce. All of them except Damian, who is still young enough to worship his father. 

Hal is still smiling to himself when he turns back to Tim, snack in hand. He scans his eyes over Tim, making sure his sleeplessness isn’t self-imposed, as it too often is. Another trait, courtesy of Bruce. Hal’s smile quickly drops when he notices that Tim isn’t actually absorbed with his phone, just kind of staring at the black screen, mind clearly somewhere else. There’s no dark circles under his eyes, but they are red and puffy. It’s clear he’s been crying.

“Hey, you okay Tim?” Hal asks. Tim blinks and looks up at him before quickly looking away again, trying to hide his face.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responds, voice devoid of emotion. Tim is still a teenager, technically, and Hal knows that they don’t take well to prying. Tim especially keeps most things close to his chest, doesn't share much with anyone, Hal thinks. Bruce is only able to keep track of his life through border-line unhealthy amounts of surveillance. Tim seems to be aware of this and allows it, so Hal figures it’s fine. But he’s never seen Tim cry, not enough to leave him looking like this. Bruce would probably go apeshit, if someone had hurt Tim, so Hal tries again.

“You sure? Because you can talk to me about anything, if you need to,” Hal says, and immediately cringes. He sounds like his high-school guidance counselor. “I mean, I know I’m just that guy your dad married, but I’m still happy to help you with anything.”

Even worse now, Hal sounds like his own step-dad, and what a horrific thought that is. Tim doesn’t take the opportunity to poke fun at his fumbling attempts to be cool, just continues to stare at his phone. He glances up at Hal, then back down at his phone, tapping it against the counter. Hal doesn’t move, sensing that Tim is either going to actually open up to him or deflect again, and he wants to give him the space to think.

“It’s not that big of a deal, really,” Tim hedges.

“C’mon, hit me with it then,” Hal encourages. Tim glances at him again, and his shoulders sag in defeat.

“Bernard and I got into a fight,” Tim mutters. Hal is secretly grateful that it seems to be a teenager-shaped problem, and not a vigilante-shaped problem, though maybe he would be a better help with the latter. His few teenage relationships were pretty disastrous. He takes a moment to wrack his brain. He had heard from Bruce that Tim was dating a civilian, a boy, and assumes that this Bernard guy is said boyfriend.

“First one?” Hal guesses. Tim shrugs.

“Not really. But this one was just,” he pauses, trying to find the words.

“Worse?” Hal offers, and Tim nods, finally making eye contact with him.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him that mad before,” Tim says. Hal winces in sympathy. He remembers the first time he had seen Bruce really, truly, mad at him. It hadn’t been a fun night.

“What was the fight about?” Hal ventures, still unsure of how far he should push. Tim is a Wayne, and he’ll have no problem telling Hal when to fuck off, but he’d like to not piss off Bruce’s kids.

Tim huffs and looks away, guilty.

“Vigilante stuff,” he says vaguely. Hal raises his eyebrows. He wonders if Bruce knows that Tim’s civilian boyfriend knows his identity.

“He mad you didn’t tell him sooner?” Hal asks. Tim shakes his head, brows furrowing.

“No, he figured it out a long time ago, he’s just. He’s overprotective, I guess,” Tim says. He freezes after a moment and looks at Hal, frantic.

“Don’t tell Bruce I said that. He’s already twitchy about Bernard knowing at all,” Tim rushes out. Hal puts his hands up in surrender.

“Relax, kid, I won’t rat you out,” Hal says. Tim relaxes like he just dodged certain death. “But you know what he’d say, right?” Hal adds. He didn’t use to understand Bruce’s paranoia about identities, not really. He thought it was all bullshit, a way for Bruce to exert control over all of them. But after they started screwing around, after Hal ended up at the manor a few times, after he saw the way Bruce talked about his kids, he started to understand. The stakes were higher, for Bruce.

“Man, you used to be cool,” Tim groans, rolling his eyes. Hal crosses his arms at that.

“Hey, I just said I’d help you out,” Hal says. 

“Yeah, whatever,” he huffs. They fall into silence again, Tim picking at the edges of his phone case. Hal lets him have the time to collect his thoughts like Bruce often needs. 

“How did you and Bruce do it?” Tim asks, suddenly much more timid.

“Do what?” Hal asks.

“Stop fighting all the time,” Tim says. Hal can’t stop the bark of laughter that bursts from him, and Tim looks at him in confusion.

“Kid, we have not stopped fighting since we met. That didn’t change just because we starting fu- I mean, dating,” Hal says. Tim raises an eerily familiar eyebrow at the slip up, but lets it lie.

“But you’re married now,” Tim insists. Hal knows that his smile in response to that is embarrassingly soft, but he still can’t help it. It’s still thrilling, to think about Bruce and married in the same sentence. 

“Yeah, we are. I married him even though he drives me crazy and can make me madder than just about anything else in the universe,” Hal says. Tim shifts in his seat, clearly more uncertain than before. Hal Hal panics, just a little, at the thought of completely blowing this.

“Look, just because you love someone doesn’t mean you won’t disagree sometimes. You might even get angry at each other. Bruce and I could disagree on the color of the sky, probably, but the difference between then and now is that we actually try to understand each other. We fight because we don’t want to be misunderstood, you know?” Hal says. Tim looks at him suspiciously.

“Not really, no,” he drawls. Hal sighs.

“Well, then you can’t go wrong with a good apology,” he offers. Tim looks even more suspicious now, and Hal suppresses his laughter, this time, but can’t help but be reminded of a prickly kitten.

“Yeah, I guess,” Tim says. Hal offers him a smile, and turns to the cabinets to hunt for a glass.

“You’re not, by the way,” Tim adds, quiet enough that Hal almost misses it.

“Not what?” he asks, filling his acquired glass with water.

“Just some guy Bruce married. You’re a part of the family, too, you know.” Tim says. It’s Hal’s turn to feel uncertain now. He swallows his knee-jerk reaction of denial, takes a sip of water before turning around. Tim’s gaze is piercing, and Hal gets the same feeling he gets when Bruce stares at him, like he can sense whatever self-deprecating thought has passed through Hal’s mind.

“Thanks, kid.”

[spookberry]

sparked to life

[shmarper]

lil doodle from science class from Peach Flavored Kisses :/ idk how to put a link in 😩

[brotheridontknow]

Some doodles of teenage Anya from @cecizilla1’s time travel AU. I keep thinking about how the conversation went when they first met like did bro just walk up to her and start trauma dumping?? I can’t imagine he had much of a plan.

Link to the AU here!

@automaton-mwproject <- find more here as well!

[jesting-bug]

Oh poor neighbor! The flower wilted! @:[

[margaret-the-duck]

You've heard of Gandalf's big naturals

Now get ready for

*my girlfriend when I showed her this: Viktor likes 'em scientits*

[cupidsncheerios]

okay i know we all write jayvik vampire aus where viktor is the vampire, because have you seen his face, BUT

have we considered vampire piltover v human zaun where jayce is trying to invent a sufficient blood replacement for vampires to drink instead of killing zaunites, and viktor is an already anemic zaunite who immediately supports jayce's project the SECOND he hears about it because if one more of these literally bloodsucking bourgeois bitches tried to take away his already struggling red blood cells. let's just say jayce's apartment wouldn't be the only thing on fire

anyway so because they need blood to test and he's a good friend, jayce talis becomes the first ever vampire to decide he maybe likes getting bit. this isn't bc nobody else has tried it, jayce is just weird

[spidermansballs]

ok so yk how felicias hair is purple and vi and jinxs hair is pink and blue, and their father seems to have brown hair. well colored hair seems to be one of the dominant traits of their haircolor pool, and as all haircolor is, this is a polygenic gene pool. now felicia seems to have a codominant gene with one allele for pink and one allele for blue, like this:

like a wildflower.

this:

would be the chart for vi and jinx's genes, PB being felicia (pink and blue) and BrBr being their father (brown, which is still a dominant trait, but yields to these other colors). when you chart it the genes exhibit that pink is dominant over brown and blue is dominant over brown, (and it doesnt matter what the fathers genes were, as in if he was carrying a recessive gene, it would still get overpowered by pink/blue)

there was always a 50% chance their child would have blue hair and a 50% chance their child would have pink hair

so clearly felicia has dominant traits, as hers are easily seen within both her daughters, although we dont see much of their father (like one drawing) and their physical appearances are very influenced by their environments (as we see in the happy au, with powder's skin being much healthier and not as sickly as jinx's)

this is also shown in the kirammans as caitlyn and her father both have dark blue hair and her mother has brown, greying hair, blue is either dominant or her mother carries a recessive blue allele.

i would be able to provide more examples but we dont see many peoples parents in this show. it is curious how "colored" hair (at least pink and blue) must be dominant even though there are less people with these traits, like straight hair vs curly hair, curly is dominant but not as common.

honestly the arcane genes are extremely fascinating and if i knew more that would be fabulous

[uncanny-tranny]

"haha, are you an art gay, a science gay, or a math gay"

Actually, I find the division between art, science, and math to be a very nebulous idea and useless when you actually interact with the universe. The more you learn about the world, the more you surround yourself with art and science and math, and you'll never be able to see it any other way and it will be beautiful. When I take your hand, it won't be the science of our atoms closing the distance between us that we will experience, but the math of our fingers interlocking and the art of our bodies that we will experience. You are math and you are science and you are art, and nothing will make you any lesser💛

[miketheskibidi]

something like this

[seethinglikeme]

if chemistry class at school was more like potions in harry potter it would've been bomb

[aroaessidhe]

2025 reads / storygraph

The Memory Hunters

scifi/fantasy set in a postapoc future US

follows a hunter - a woman who uses a certain kind of mushroom allows her to dive into memories from blood, collecting them for the institute she works for, and her bodyguard / best friend, who needs the job to care for her family in the storm-torn south

when they come across a site with memories that uncover secrets about the past and the hunter’s religion that diverge from the official accounts of history, it tests their relationship and causes them to question everything

f/f

arc, out July 29

[songofwizardry]

it’s actually such a difficult time to be someone who’s unironically and genuinely and wholeheartedly into space travel, and believes in space for everyone, and thinks it’s bonkers that we have had zero (0) people who aren’t white American men who have set foot on the moon, but also who hates Elon Musk and Jeff Bezos. (but also tbh it’s been hard for us Elon Musk hating space nerds out here for a long time.)

like I’m 100% not a fan of this billionaire Katy Perry space tourism… thing, but also. you don’t gotta write off space travel as a concept entirely as always imperialist/the realm of billionaires/pointless/etc. it doesn’t have to be this way come with me and I can show you a better world.

[zukkaoru]

ohhh you guys are reading bsd without suspending your disbelief. you guys are expecting to get a clear cut perfectly understandable scientific explanation for something that can't actually happen in the real world, and then you're upset when you don't get it. you're forgetting that bsd has always had fantastical elements in it and it is not meant to be a 1:1 replication of Our World. you don't have to know and understand every single scientific concept being talked about in the recent chapters; you just have to be able to get the general idea and realize that this isn't the real world, so it won't make sense by the standards of our reality. then maybe you can stop whining about how nonsensical all the dialogue is and start appreciating the story itself