#Junk science needs to be called out

[ihazyourkitty]

Just a friendly reminder that David Kirby, the journalist who authored Death At SeaWorld, essentially a companion book for Blackfish, an allegedly deep, dark, gripping expose of SeaWorld and the broader “captivity” industry…

….also published this in 2005:

If I have to explain to any of you why promoting junk science linking autism to vaccines is irresponsible, exploitative and offensive, then don’t even bother commenting. There is no link between vaccines and autism. This was known in 2005, but that didn’t stop Kirby from profiting off of the controversy. He did distance himself from this stance later in life…. and by distance, I mean he admitted that other genetic and environmental factors were more likely at play, but that we still shouldn’t rule out vaccines. Basically, he just moved the goalposts like many anti-vaccine quacks are wont to do. To date, I have yet to find any formal retraction of his position on vaccines and autism.

This isn’t an ad hominem. I have serious concerns about anyone’s ability to properly interpret science or facts when they also peddle in anti-vaccine nonsense. Frankly, the snippets I have read from Death At SeaWorld show frightening parallels with anti-vaccine rhetoric. -Oh no, the whales are being loaded with antibiotics!

-They’re living in water full of chemicals!

-Let’s take mortalities, injuries, and medical issues out of context for shock value!

-Providing incomplete, or misleading statistics, also without context

-Their lives are not natural! (And a general reliance on the naturalism fallacy)

-The whistleblower underdogs vs the big mean establishment trope

-Featuring so-called “experts” who make a living off of pushing this controversy

-Insinuating some great big conspiracy

I’m not saying that the anti-vaccine and anti-captivity movements are altogether synonymous in a literal, 1-to-1 sense. Obviously there is additional nuance here. I don’t know what correlation, if any, there is between someone being anti-captivity and anti-vaccine. I would certainly hope that most anti-cap people are not also anti-vaccine.

What I am saying, however, is that at least one key player in promoting Blackfish drew from the same rhetorical playbook, and that deserves some serious scrutiny. Pseudoscience and misinformation are prevalent online. Don’t fall victim to more of it.

In David Kirby’s case at least, it doesn’t demonstrate that he was good at uncovering truth and speaking truth to power— it demonstrated that he was good at telling a compelling story via misrepresenting facts.

[teaboot]

Sometimes I think a lot about my mom's cat

My mom's cat is a common domestic shorthair we found on the side of the road as a kitten

Regular cat, not a maine coon or one of those massive breeds. His mom was smaller than a loaf of bread

But in a sort of a Clifford The Big Red Dog situation, he grew super fast, and really really big, and took a super long time to stop growing

Worried that she was overfeeding him, she eased back his portions, but he stayed a massive round baby

When he started having kidney problems, she took him to the vet.

The vet took a look at him and said, "holy fuck, what are you feeding him", checked the nutritional listings on his chow, and told her "Yeah, maybe he's reacting badly to the amount of grain in this, try a meatier diet"

So my mom wound up special-ordering this specific high-protein prescription cat food made of like. Kangaroo meat or some shit that cost like sixty bucks a bag

And, as typical act two in an episode of House, he somehow got worse on the fancy specialized stuff that was supposed to be Primo Athlete Olympic Feline Blend

Like. WAY worse. His guts were inflamed and his kidneys were shutting down and he was all sore and HE WAS STILL HUGE, just miserable and sad

So shetook him back to the vet, where they had to help him pee (he was apparently close to bursting and had some kind of blockage too) and went "Yeah no this is NOT normal and we don't know what's going on, we're gonna do some tests but in the meantime you should go back to what he was eating before, at least that wasn't actively killing him" so she did

And he still wasn't great, but he also improved

And so they take his blood and do an ultrasound and a couple g's later she gets a call back like "this is gonna sound crazy, but we want you to put him on a low-meat diet. Just the least amount of protein and iron and shit. We need you to find the grainiest, filler-iest dollar tree kibble available and give him some of that bad bad shit"

And my mother is a woman of science. So she did

And he GOT BETTER

His energy picked back up, inflammation went down, he started drinking normally again, got back to pissing like a fuckin champion

And so it turns out that out of all the random ass freeway bonus cats we possibly could have scooped out of a ditch, WE got the one-in-a-million freak of nature with a SPECIFIC genetic defect that means a paleo protein free range diet is essentially poison and he THRIVES on cheap ass garbage

Like. He medically NEEDS junk food

I dont really understand how that works, but i cant argue with results.

If we had four of him, they'd outweigh my mom. And he's FINE

Also blind, but that's unrelated

Im not using him as a symbol or a metaphor or anything. I just keep catching myself thinking about my mom's Big Fucking Cat

[angelyuji]

SOME MOREEE YANDERE PINES TWINS THOUGHTS

stan pines thoughts and professor ford pines??? HOLD ON LET ME COOK

18+!!!!

tw // yandere themes, gaslighting, manipulation, power imbalance, pervy uncle lowkey, also lowkey bimboification, noncon (not explicit)

professor ford pines!!!!!!!! known to be the eccentric professor who goes on tangents about trans-dimensional physics and other science junk, but also superrr lenient grader like no possible way anyone could fail his class. you’re def teacher’s pet type and he’s definitely aiming to make you a TA. always getting you involved in weird experiments, but you’re always down cuz ur there to learn! ford invites you to his house, you guys hang out outside of class and research, you’ve met his brother!! like u knew it was getting weird, but at the same time…. you need a good rec letter. so one day you guys are in his office at his home, grading papers…

“(y/n).” ford calls your name, sternly. the lights were dim and quiet classical music played in the office. you hum and turn to him. before you know it, his chapped lips press against yours. you push him away, scared and surprised.

“professor, what the hell are you doing?” you try back away, but ford grabs your hand.

“i think you are one of the most brilliant minds i know and i want to be with you, (y/n).” ford stands, pulling you into a hug. you push back, stumbling away from him.

“no, i-i never thought that! i thought we were just friends!”

“but, i invited you to my home.” ford’s face saddens, “you met my family…”

“i never… i never realized…” you felt embarrassed for the old professor. you take a step back. you can’t see his face, but you watch his fists clench.

“i suppose that means you’re okay with losing your job, as well as any opportunities in this field.” his voice was low, words drenched in anger.

“no…. no, no, no, professor you can’t do this to me.” your heart feels like it was being ripped out of your chest.

“no, i can’t, but who will you tell? who will believe you? i am a respected scientist in our field, (y/n). think once more on your decision.” ford looks at you, a smug smirk laying on his face. you don’t respond, knowing that you had no other choice. you step back to him and he pulls you into a soft, loving kiss. his 5 o’clock shadow scratches your face. “now, please (y/n), call me ford.”

stan pines who had known your dad when he lived in texas and saw him again in gravity falls. stan pines who gets invited over to meet his friend’s family for dinner and sees you. a cute, little thing in their early 20s. stan’s instantlyyy enamored. you’re so cute and respectful, explaining how you’re living at home while you work and save money for a house, blushing when stan compliments you, serving him food first. you were acting like a perfect homemaker and stan was instantly obsessed. your dad’s gonna tell stan before he leaves that you’re all moving somewhere cheaper:

“yeah, pines, we’re moving some time soon. you know how it is with retirement and the market going down.” your dad sighs, wearily. stan nods, trying to listen to your voice in the house. “can’t move till (y/n) finds a job though. its gonna be tough on them especially with how hard it is to find jobs these days.” stan perks up at his words.

“y’know, (y/n) don’t have to quit…” your dad looks at the older man in confusion. “my grandkids have gone back to california, shermie’s grandkids technically, so my attic is open for them to stay in. they can stay at their job and you guys can move.” stan offers, fighting a giddy smile.

your dad clasps stan’s hands, “stan pines, you are the kindest man i know.”

stan for sure acts like a feeble old man around you to get you to take care of him. like cooking dinner, doing laundry, and more. he conditions you into acting like his stay at home partner. he starts making advances, subtle at first, to see what you would tolerate. soon he’s dictating what you wear and bending you over on the kitchen counter to make sure you stay full :) (dont get me started on somnophilia cuz i have thoughts on those but idk if u guys are ready for the things im gonna say)

here are those thoughts i was talking abt… :))))

[mostlysignssomeportents]

General Mills and cheaply bought "dietitians" co-opted the anti-diet movement

I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me in NEXT THURSDAY (Apr 11) in BOSTON with Randall "XKCD" Munroehttps://cockeyed.com/lessons/viagra/viagra.html, then PROVIDENCE, RI (Apr 12), and beyond!

Steve Bannon isn't wrong: for his brand of nihilistic politics to win, all he has to do is "flood the zone with shit," demoralizing people to the point where they no longer even try to learn the truth.

This is really just a more refined, more potent version of the tactical doubt sown by Big Tobacco about whether smoking caused cancer, a playbook later adopted by the fossil fuel industry to sell climate denial. You know Darrell Huff's 1954 classic How To Lie With Statistics? Huff was a Big Tobacco shill (his next book, which wasn't ever published, was How To Lie With Cancer Statistics). His mission wasn't to help you spot statistical malpractice – an actual thing that is an actual problem that you should actually learn to spot. It was to turn you into a nihilist who didn't believe anything could be known:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/01/04/how-to-truth/#harford

Corporations don't need you to believe that their products are beneficial or even non-harmful. They just need you to believe nothing. If you don't know what's true, then why not just do whatever feels good, man? #YOLO!

These bannonfloods of shit are a favored tactic of strongmen and dictators. Their grip on power doesn't depend on their citizens trusting them – it's enough that they trust no one:

http://jonathanstray.com/networked-propaganda-and-counter-propaganda

Bannonflooding is especially beloved of the food industry. Food is essential, monopolized, and incredibly complicated, and many of the most profitable strategies for growing, processing and preparing food are very bad for the people who eat that food. Rather than sacrificing profits, the food industry floods the zone with shit, making it impossible to know what's true, in hopes that we will just eat whatever they're serving:

https://journals.plos.org/plosbiology/article?id=10.1371/journal.pbio.2003460

Now, the "nothing can be known" gambit only works if it's really hard to get at the truth. So it helps that nutrition and diet are very complex subjects, but it helps even more that the nutrition and diet industry are a cesspool of quacks and junk science. This is a "scientific discipline" whose prestigious annual meetings are sponsored (and catered) by McDonald's:

https://www.motherjones.com/environment/2014/05/my-trip-mcdonalds-sponsored-nutritionist-convention/

It's a "science" whose most prominent pitchmen peddle quack nostrums and sue the critics who point out (correctly) that eating foods high in chlorophyll will not "oxygenate your blood" (hint, chlorophyll only makes oxygen in the presence of light, which is notably lacking in your colon):

https://www.badscience.net/2007/02/ms-gillian-mckeith-banned-from-calling-herself-a-doctor/

When the quack-heavy world of nutrition combines with the socially stigmatized world of weight-loss, you get a zone ripe for shitflooding. The majority of Americans are "overweight" (according to a definition that relies on the unscientific idea of BMI) and nearly half of Americans are "obese." These numbers have been climbing steadily since the 1970s, and every diet turns out to be basically bullshit:

https://headgum.com/factually-with-adam-conover/what-does-ozepmic-actually-do-with-dr-dhruv-khullar

Notwithstanding the new blockbuster post-Ozempic drugs, we're been through an unbroken 50-year run of more and more of us being fatter and fatter, even as fat stigma increased. Fat people are treated as weak-willed and fundamentally unhealthy, while the most prominent health-risks of being fat are roundly neglected: the mental health effects of being shamed, and the physical risks of having doctors ignore your health complaints, no matter how serious they sound, and blame them on your weight:

https://maintenancephase.buzzsprout.com/1411126/11968083-glorifying-obesity-and-other-myths-about-fat-people

Fat people and their allies have banded together to address these real, urgent harms. The "body acceptance" movement isn't merely about feeling good in your own skin: it's also about fighting discrimination, demanding medical care (beyond "lose some weight") and warning people away from getting on the diet treadmill, which can lead to dangerous eating disorders and permanent weight gain:

https://www.beacon.org/You-Just-Need-to-Lose-Weight-P1853.aspx

Fat stigma is real. The mental health risks of fat-shaming are real. Eating disorders are real. Discrimination against fat people is real. The fact that these things are real doesn't mean that the food industry can't flood the zone with shit, though. On the contrary: the urgency of these issues, combined with the poor regulation of dietitians, makes the "what should you eat" zone perfect for flooding with endless quantities of highly profitable shit.

Perhaps you've gotten some of this shit on you. Have you found yourself watching a video from a dietitian influencer like Cara Harbstreet, Colleen Christensen or Lauren Smith, promoting "health at any size" with hashtags like #DerailTheShame and #AntiDiet? These were paid campaigns sponsored by General Mills, Pepsi, and other multinational, multibillion-dollar corporations.

Writing for The Examination, Sasha Chavkin, Anjali Tsui, Caitlin Gilbert and Anahad O'Connor describe the way that some of the world's largest and most profitable corporations have hijacked a movement where fat people and their allies fight stigma and shame and used it to peddle the lie that their heavily processed, high-calorie food is good for you:

https://www.theexamination.org/articles/as-obesity-rises-big-food-and-dietitians-push-anti-diet-advice

It's a surreal tale. They describe a speech by Amy Cohn, General Mills’ senior manager for nutrition, to an audience at a dietitian's conference, where Cohn "denounced the media for 'pointing the finger at processed foods' and making consumers feel ashamed of their choices." This is some next-level nihilism: rather than railing against the harmful stigma against fat people, Cohn wants us to fight the stigma against Cocoa Puffs.

This message isn't confined to industry conferences. Dietitians with large Tiktok followings like Cara Harbstreet then carry the message out to the public. In Harbstreet's video promoting Cinnamon Toast Crunch, Cocoa Puffs and Trix, she says, "I will always advocate for fearlessly nourishing meals, including cereal…Because everyone deserves to enjoy food without judgment, especially kids":

https://www.tiktok.com/@streetsmart.rd/video/7298403730989436206

Dietitians, nutritionists and the food industry have always had an uncomfortably close relationship, but the industry's shitflooding kicked into high gear when the FDA proposed rules limiting which foods the industry can promote as "healthy." General Mills, Kelloggs and Post have threatened a First Amendment suit against such a regulation, arguing that they have a free speech right to describe manifestly unhealthy food as "healthy."

The anti-diet movement – again, a legitimate movement aimed at fighting the dangerous junk science behind dieting – has been co-opted by the food industry, who are paying dietitian influencers to say things like "all foods have value" while brandishing packages of Twix and Reese's. In their Examination article, the authors profile people who struggled with their weight, then, after encountering the food industry's paid disinformation, believed that "healthy at any size" meant that it would be unhealthy to avoid highly processed, high calorie food. These people gained large amounts of weight, and found their lives constrained and their health severely compromised.

I've been overweight all my life. I went to my first Weight Watchers meeting when I was 12. I come from a family of overweight people with the chronic illnesses often associated with being fat. This is a subject that's always on my mind. I even wrote a whole novel about the promise and peril of a weight-loss miracle:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781429969284/makers

I think the anti-diet movement, and its associated ideas like body acceptance and healthy at every size, are enormously positive developments and hugely important. It's because I value these ideas that I'm so disgusted with Big Food and its cynical decision to flood the zone with shit. It's also why I'm so furious with dietitians and nutritionists for failing to self-regulate and become a real profession, the kind that censures and denounces quacks and shills.

I have complicated feelings about Ozempic and its successors, but even if these prove to be effective and safe in the long term, and even if we rein in the rapacious pharma companies so that they no longer sell a $5 product for $1000, I would still want dietary science to clean up its act:

https://jamanetwork.com/journals/jamanetworkopen/fullarticle/2816824

I'm not a nihilist. I think we can use science to discover truths – about ourselves and our world. I want to know those truths, and I think they can be known. The only people who benefit from convincing you that the truth is unknowable are the people who want to lie to you.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/04/05/corrupt-for-cocoa-puffs/#flood-the-zone-with-shit

[criibibi]

Synopsis: After losing so much, Spider-woman learns to just keep moving. Only for her to end up somewhere far from home. Her first agenda is figuring out where she is, and how to get back. The only problem is that she ended up somewhere fictional (to her). Playing hero with Batman was not in her bingo cards this year. Hopefully she will be able to make it back home before she catches unwanted attention.

Masterlist: Prev; Next;

Chapter 4 - Calm Before the Storm

With the beginning of a new day it was like the calm before the storm. You stood up pretty late at night, making your way to a center, luckily they didn’t push for information knowing your situation is a dime a dozen around these parts.

Thank god. Though you did debate giving them your name or even a nickname, you decided against it. After all, you’re not staying here long term, you don’t need to cement your name here. Not as a civilian, or as spider-woman.

You shouldn’t even be here. You don’t belong here.

After having a fresh meal, bless the hearts of the passionate people out there giving out kindness like air, fix yourself up, and return to your makeshift home to decompress.

The cold air nipping at your face cools you off, making you vigilant of your surroundings. Quiet, a bit too quiet. Gotham isn’t known for its silence after all. Pushing the uncomfortable feelings aside, you decide to call it a night.

Making significant progress on your watch became your saving grace. The anchor of your sanity.

So the first thing you did in the morning was quickly get a nice breakfast at a shelter before dedicating your time to building the beacon until nightfall.

The voices in your head were getting restless so you even fixed up a radio you found in the piles of junk just to have a noise buzz in the background.

Days, you spent days inside this safezone you made a shelter out of. Two days to be exact. With how limited and unlimited your resources are, you had no time to waste. You had your own world to get back to, and help Miguel stop the Spot. Every day you spend here is costing you so much already. But you keep going, because you know you’re making progress.

Your routine was mostly some time in the morning, eat and wash up at any center, and go straight back to the junkyard. Snack for lunch and for dinner, back at another center. You make sure to hop around so as to not draw attention or to get familiar with anyone.

You don’t belong. Pretender, faker, liar, fraud, phony, sham.

You know that better than anyone else. You feel like a fraud. This world is like a different color pallet, monochromatic to you. You can’t stain this world with your presence.

You’re getting nauseous just thinking about it.

When taking some semblance of a break, you usually take walks to calm your mind in the morning, where crime is least likely to occur. And so far, you’re right!

Though there were a few (three) instances of muggers, and a drug dealer. Though you did stop (and robbed) them, but not as spider-woman, just as normal (fake) civilian you.

Those were the one’s just in your way or happening to you. Other than that, you have not put on the spider-woman suit to fight crime.

Why would you?

You were about to return home soon, if everything ends well. And it seems like luck is on your side since you have not caught a glimpse or heard any of the batsonas nearby. This also gave you hope.

So, how do you celebrate your near completion of your super secret science project?

Well, with ice-cream and a place of destination for your super secret science project!

So off to the library you go!

Finishing your ice-cream, you take in a breath of the polluted air of Gotham and make your way towards the library.

It was silent, and tranquil. Something you weren’t able to feel for some time. No big baddies escaping Arkham, no terrorist attacks, no bombing threats, no bat encounters, nothing. Just silence, and peace. And you embrace it with everything you have.

Your constant tense body finally felt itself ease as your stress levels went down.

Entering the library and once again greeting the librarian, you made your way back to the same seat you did days ago. With a clear mind, you browse the maps and possible locations for your beacon.

Finding a couple of very good locations, you made sure to memorize the landmarks and streets so you can pick the closest one.

You were giddy! Basically shaking in excitement. Tonight is the night! You just need to tweak a few things and you would be good to go! You would finally have a signal that can ping your location! And if you have time, you will be able to message Miguel through your signal.

With excitement, you quickly left the library and made your way back to the junkyard. Days of your blood sweat and tears, will all finally pay off your desperation to go back home.

Just a couple of adjustments.

Running into the warehouse, you turned on the radio and began to work.

Hours upon hours and you finally managed to get something done. It might have looked like a baby’s school robotics science project but hey! Ya got something at least!

You made something fast, not pretty.

Now, to connect his baby to a power source that won’t reveal your location- god knows you don’t need the bats up on your ass. If you trusted this world more, maybe you would have gone to Batman/Bruce Wayne first. But you know that- one, that idea is garbage at best, that’s how you would most likely get your cute ass locked at Arkham. And two, you know for a fact that Batman doesn’t trust metahumans or something- and you having enhanced powers in your fucking DNA, makes you the paranoid one.

You don’t want to step on anyone’s toes, especially the Batman’s. It just boils down to, you don’t trust him or his brood of sidekicks. That and the fact that if you could do it by yourself then you will.

And you’re already doing it. Ha! Take that universe!

This was a job for spider-woman. Changing into your suit, you hurriedly carried your mini beacon, and soared through buildings to find an appropriate source of electricity. You know you don’t have the right technology (you’re using scraps for fuck sake) to create an effective and accurate signal, but with this little baby, you should be able to send out a general area ping.

This way, for anyone who is looking for you (you fucking hope so) they can lock into a general area of the multiverse.

You are holding onto hope you get discovered soon.

Landing on top of a random construction site, you made quick work setting your things up. Connecting the cable to your beacon, and one towards your watch, you use the last cable and walk over a power generator.

This is it, this is where you’ll finally finally have a semblance of a chance to leave this universe. You just want to go home. You don’t exist here, you checked when scrolling through the web.

Not someone who looks like you- or a spider-woman either. You don’t belong here, and you never had the intention to play pretend either. This world isn’t your problem and you aren’t needed. So, now you’ll ping your location and go home.

Your very own emergency distress signal.

You plug your cable in the generator and it causes a power surge.

You pray to be discovered.

-

“B! It’s happening again!” Oracle’s alarmed voice caused Batman to head out immediately. “But this time it’s different!”

“Same place?” Hopping into his batmobile he sped off. “Different how?”

“No, this time it’s in the Narrows. A construction site twenty minutes from your location. It’s pinging like crazy!” Oracle couldn’t understand what was happening.

It had been a regular Thursday night until she got a ping of another disturbance. Not quite the ‘quantum disturbance’ like a few days ago, but then it was the flickering power surge. She was quick this time, getting an accurate location and with Batman on the way, they’ll find out what this is.

“It’s definitely the same as a few days ago, but not big enough, not strong enough. Causing a power surge!”

The surge only lasted ten seconds. Ten seconds too long. Then silence and all the light and energy came flickering back in that area.

“Robin’s close, he’s on his way B.” As if nothing had happened. Oracle wasted no time in finding cameras to see the situation. But the ripple effect caused security cameras to shut down for the duration of the surge. “Shit. Cameras are down- can’t find anyone in or out.”

“Hm.” Batman grunted. This was a grunt of annoyance.

Upon arriving on the scene, Batman made his way through the partially completed construction site. There stood only one other figure, and it was Robin.

“There was no sign of the perpetrator when I got here.” He spoke, his fixed glare at the spot where the ping was the strongest. “I surveyed the surroundings, nothing.” Frustration was clear in his voice and clenched teeth.

This confirms what Oracle said through the comms.

Batman sighed. Whatever was here, left just as quickly. This means that whatever caused a quantum disturbance days ago, is still here. In his city. In Gotham. And when he finds them, he’ll make sure to squeeze out every bit of information they possess.

He won’t take any chances of possible alien life force coming and going as they please.

“We’re not completely at a loss.” His words caught Robin’s attention, so he continued. “That means whoever did this is still here. It wasn’t as big as the other one, which means the recreation was not enough. Whoever or whatever it is, is still here.”

Robin processed the information and affirmed. “Understood. Means they will try again. And soon.” Robin makes sure to ping this area as a priority zone.

Batman nodded. He will find whoever is behind this. No matter the costs.

Nothing will escape their watch.

-

“No! No no nonono!”

Just as you plugged in the cable to the generator a huge surge of power came through, quickly to find a connection.

Your watch sprang to life, a bright screen greeted you and quickly you sprung to action. Seeing the universe number glitch but readable.

Finding a smidgen of a connection, you started calling Miguel; it couldn't even connect.

You wanted to sob.

“Miguel! Miguel please please see this! Please please please!” Then the connection went out and the watch turned black.

You felt like your whole world was crashing down on you.

You tried, you really did try! You did your best. You have always done your best. But in the end, it seems that no matter how hard you fought or tried to fight, defend, and protect, it just was never enough. But you lost waaaaay too much to give up. Especially now.

You’ll get discovered soon. And not by the ones you want to meet. “Fuck!”

You couldn’t let this get to you. They might be coming. Quickly unplugging the cables you grab the beacon and swing away, using the night as your cover to make a grand escape.

After all, you still were able to at least find a connection, just not a strong one. Try again next time.

A fire grew inside you. That’s right, you’ll just try again, and this time make something better. As long as you weren’t caught you can still make something better. “Can’t give up.” You spoke through your tears. You’ll fix this, you have too. It’s just you against the world.

Just like Miguel, you’ll throw yourself into fixing things. Making it better.

The obsession of trying to make things right by any means necessary, broken and unbroken. Take things apart and build it back together again, same and before, or better, greater even.

A Tinkerer if you will. Anything to be useful, needed, wanted. And in order for you to feel that, you’ll build an even stronger signal. This time, you’ll make your watch better.

You know Hobie Brown knows how to build his own watch. You both do. Discussed it when Hobie casually said he missed your presence at times. So you’ll just upgrade yours.

Building a better beacon and upgrading your watch requires more material. So you’ll plan for the days ahead. You will learn from this failure. You have to. You need to.

Your greatest failures were failing to save Ben, protect May, and defend Peter, those you cared for the most. You can’t afford to fail this. You will make it back. It just seems that you’ll be stuck here just a tad bit longer.

“That’s okay… everything will be okay.” Your erratic mind becomes calm again.

You learned to take responsibility for your actions and mistakes, learned to accept the consequences and help others face their own, and finally to heal and move forwards, to hope. And right now, you’re hoping for a better outcome soon.

“I can do this.” Landing on the warehouse you climbed through a window, throwing your mask to the side, landing on your workbench. “I can do better.”

You were known as a dangerous spider. You have years of experience, years of trials and tribulations, you’re smart, curious, and compassionate. But you’re hungry, always hungry to learn more, to consume knowledge. You use what you learn and become better than yesterday.

You’re a dangerous spider because you always come out of every experience learning more, learning to be better as you adapt, plan and overcome every obstacle in your way.

You’re a dangerous spider, because you push yourself to the brink it’s almost madness. Your obsession of not being weak, helpless, and vulnerable forced your body to adapt at a rapid pace. It terrified your enemies and comrades. And how easily you can hide that obsession is also terrifying.

It’s the calm before the storm.

And right now, you need to plan better. You’ll leave the Narrows, go somewhere else. Possibly Park Row? No. That’s the Red Hoods territory. Maybe somewhere less chaotic. Oh! East End sounds perfect! It’s one of the places Batman doesn’t really interfere with.

Perfect.

You’ll only leave once you finish your beacons. Because you know the bats will come here, and most certainly discover that someone has been here building no matter how you try to cover up your doings.

Batman is just that good. You just won’t take any chances.

-

In a different universe far faaaaaaar away. Miguel discovered a heartbreaking partially audible voice recording of his missing protégé.

Location unknown. Coordinates unknown. Universe unknown.

You were lost, and he doesn’t know how to find you.

Prev; Next;

I know it feels like I'm rushing and to that- fair probably. I also really want to get into the bat family and stuff. Their actual civilian personas i mean. Not their vigilante alter ego. You are going to meet them next chapter for sure, I just need to find a way to up the states for you. Make you feel dread and anxious.

I'm not a funny person, so I feel like I am doing the spider-sona injustice. Rip.

[spicy30]

Modernness of 1400s 006

Pairing: HOTD x Fem!Modern!Reader

Extra: The reader is noted to be bilingual (Spanish speaking) and is familiar with the majority of Latin-based languages, No use of Y/N

Rating: 18+

Not proofread

Tags: @fan-goddess @meowmeowmothermeower @bunxia @your-favorite-god @coolalienstatesmansports @georgiatesulitsyeykite @qwerrtsworld @wegottastayfocus @dakota-rain666 @talilosha @the-deep-dark-abyss @101crows @agustdeeyaa @ggglich-exe @illjhhlisa @deepeststarlightmoon @cluelessteam @a-fruity-snack @i-zenin

Side note: I don't know why it won't let me tag ppl.

WC: 8.9k

“Princess Helaena?” You entered looking at her. She looked up, putting one of her twins down. It still freaked you out that they were born out of sibling incest. “I have…brought a gift and a proposition.” You spoke quietly as you entered the room looking at the twins. 

You bowed and sat before her while she looked at you with a tilted head and wide eyes. It almost hurt to look at her. She wasn’t too far off from your age yet she held such wide child-like eyes. A child with two children. However, Helena was… breathtakingly beautiful. Of course, all Targeyens were as you quickly came to learn. Even the ones you didn’t like were beautiful. Though you don’t think anyone could hold a candle to the woman in front of you. You shook your head when you realized you were staring for a little too long at her. 

“Sorry. I have bought treats for your children and you, along with a gift that I thought you might enjoy.” You cleared your throat and had the snacks brought in. You smiled at your latest creations. While solving the genetics problem, you figured you needed brain food. Though your version of brain food included what was on the platters they had brought in. 

Potato chips, french fries, and popcorn! After nearly three weeks of starving yourself of junk food, you were feigning for something. 

“What are those?” Helaena asked. You picked up a crisp and bit down on it and it let out a crunch. 

“Potatoes with salt. This one too.” You picked up a fry and ate it. “And this is corn, but it is popped. I call it popcorn! It also pops when cooked. Try them, I think your children might like them more than you and I.” 

You watched Helaena eat one and smile as she chewed and you nodded knowingly. It wasn’t long before she called the twins over and they too began eating the treats. As Jaehaera and Jaehaerys took off with the plate you brought out something wrapped in a napkin. “I made this for you. I was told you liked sweets?”

She nodded and looked curiously at the cloth. Should it be anything like what you had her taste she was looking forward to this. She watched you unwrap the cloth, and there was a golden brown circular thing sprinkled with what looked like sugar. In the middle was something purple and it was glossy. She took it and smelled it before taking a bite. It was soft and the filling tasted like plums. Once more she smiled and you nodded knowingly again. 

“So uh,” You grin toward Helaena. “I hear you like dragon riding.”

… 

“Oh man….” You grimaced looking down at the paper. 

Bb:½ 

BB: ¼ 

bb:¼ 

Bb or BB taken. (HC)

Bb:½ 

BB: ¼ 

bb:¼ 

Bb or BB taken (EC)

JV: ¼ LV: ¼ JOV: ¼ 

¼ * ¼ * ¼  = 1/64 or 1.56%

JV: ¼ LV: ¼ JOV: ¼ = 1.56%

1.56% chance of having present phenotypes. 

You redid the math twice before finally moving on to the assumed father who would have dark hair and dark eyes. Keeping the assumed possibilities…it skyrockets, seventy-five perfect that one child is born with dark hair and dark eyes. 

¾ * ¾ * ¾ = 27/64 ≈ 42.2% 

42.2% chance of having present phenotypes. 

You took a deep breath as you cradled your face in your hands, double-checking the math in your head. There was no mistaking it. Officially and deemed by science. Jacaerys Valeyron, Lucerys Valeryon, and Joffery Valeyron were bastards. 

It was visible to anyone to see their parentage, but now here it was in numbers further damaging them. Were you wrong? No. You had checked the math dozens of times. Your math wasn’t wrong, but were you wrong? Wrong for doing this? Was it right? You only did what was asked of you. You suggested it. You were wrong. Were you? This could ruin lives. You could ruin lives. Is that why you’re here? Truly here? Why were you here? Why was this wrong? It was wrong. You were wrong.

You spiraled. You turned your head away from the table and his scent invaded you. You inhaled deeply balling your fists. Jacaerys coat still hung on your chair. Were you wrong?

A knock sounded on your door and you rushed to hide your work and hide Jacaerys’s coat. Stuffing his coat into your suitcase while you tossed the rolled-up paper under your bed you scrambled to your feet to open the door. 

There stood the last person you wanted to see right now. Jacaerys. You put on the best smile you could and extended your hand to him to beckon him inside. That night as you watched the movie your thoughts ran rampant. 

You wondered as you watched him become engrossed in the movie. Such innocent wandering. So many innocents here. You bit your lip. You were unsure of what to do. Go to Otto and tell him? No…you should probably hold off for a little bit. 

…

“Mayhaps, we can have a painter paint your pictures so that you may have them forever.” 

You snapped your head up. “Really? You would do that?” Your lips formed a wobbly smile. “It would mean the world to me to have them painted out.” You reached out in the dark for his hands holding them close to you. “Thank you Jacaerys Valeryon, really. Thank you.” 

Too many innocents. 

There would be too many innocents hurt. If you had proven him a bastard, what would become of his mother’s claim? The last woman they voted against because she simply was a woman. If it was proven Rhaenrya had no true heirs other than her last two children, she would be labeled a whore. You can only imagine the riots and the insults that will be thrown, and then those that would be slaughtered.

As you walked Jacaerys out you were silent thinking over your next steps. If you truly were here to make a change, if you had to change the course of history, then here and now would influence everything for centuries to come. You would influence centuries.

“Good night Prince Jacaerys.” You bowed. It was the first time you had addressed him as much. Your mind swirled with thoughts. To reform civilization. To speedrun progress. You shut the door and looked back towards your fan watching it spin.

“I am here to make a change.” You murmured as your eyes focused towards the window. Your brows furrowed as you nodded. “Okay. I will. I am…”

With that, you pulled another piece of parchment paper and went to grab the finished genetic problem. Rhaenerya must become Queen. If she became Queen, it would bring about a new era and you would make her reign the best there ever was. An era of change and progress brought about by women. The seeds of equality between man and woman would be planted by you and your first seed would be implanting Rhaenyra as Queen. 

There could be no doubts about her children’s legitimacy. So you rewrote the entire equation. Minor differences made big changes and soon with extra scribbles and making the problem more complicated than it should be…that night you were able to legitimize Jacaerys Valeyron, Lucerys Velaryon, and Joffery Valeryron. 

You looked towards the window, squinting your eyes as the sun began to rise. It had taken nearly a night, but your new and revised equation would serve you well. Standing up and grabbing the old equation you walked over to the fireplace. Once you burned this paper, the truth would be burned and your plan would begin. Without a doubt, you tossed it into the fire and it burned bright. You felt the heat lick at your face as you watched the paper shrivel and burn. 

You would speak to Otto and Alicent after your week away to the Riverlands with Helaena. 

…

You dragged your luggage as you walked to the Dragon pit. You struggled to keep up with Heleana who only offered a smile. 

“Wait here, I will bring out Dreamfyre.” She spoke and you nodded and watched her enter the pit. 

You didn’t know what to expect. Yes, you had seen Vermax, but no other dragon since. You didn’t even know what other dragons they had. You knew Aegon had one, but did Aemond have one? What about Daemon or Rhaenerya? Lucerys? You didn’t know. Were there wild dragons? Is there a place where they’re from? Were there other kinds? Like in how to train your dragon. Maybe large sea beasts! You gave a gasp and a smile bloomed on your face. Could you claim one? Oh, shoot! Maybe an ice-spitting one or one like toothless! However, a fire-breathing dragon is still pretty cool. 

The ground rumbled and you looked as a large claw came out. You stepped back in fear and shock as the very large dragon came out with a roar with Helaena on top. Her dragon was certainly prettier than Vermax in your humble opinion. Dreamfyre was pale blue with silver markings, silver crests, and pale blue wings. She was breathtakingly beautiful. However, that didn’t do much for your pounding heart as Dreamfyre snarled at you. 

Maybe riding a dragon wasn’t a good idea. Dreamfyre was a lot larger than Vermax. You watched the helpers strap yours and Helaena’s luggage to Dreamfyre whilst speaking Valyrian. You were still a bit salty about the fact that you could understand next to nothing when they spoke. 

You watched as Helaena giggled and smiled as she hugged Dreamfyre’s snout. You smiled at the sight though you stood off far in the distance awkwardly. 

“Do you like her?” Helena asked as she turned around looking towards you. 

“Like her? Of course, I do!” You grinned pushing back your fear. Helaena gave you a sweet smile. “How or why is she so big?” You asked with a laugh hoping to cover up your nervousness.

“Dreamfyre is about one hundred-” She began softly while petting Dreamfyre. 

“One hundred!? Years!” You cut her off and your volume made Helaena jump a bit. Dreamfyre was quick to snarl as you gave a small whimper and put your hands up backing away. “Sorry! Sorry. It’s just- one hundred years you said!? How old can they get!? How big can they get!?” You asked keeping your eyes on Dreamfyre making sure you could make a run for it if the situation called for it. 

“I don’t know. I know Balerion was about two hundred years old when he died and he was much larger than Dreamfyre and Vhagar is a couple of decades older than Dreamfyre. She is the biggest of all dragons. She is called the Queen of Dragons.” As Helaena spoke your jaw was slightly agape listening to her. Did you have any animals that were like that? Live to what sounds about two to three hundred years? Trees maybe? Tortoises can live for a hundred or so, no? What about crocodiles? Parrots? No, they only lived up to like fifty or sixty. 

You cleared your throat and nodded pointing at the dragon. “Is she safe to approach?” The last thing you wanted was to be burned alive. Not after you just had your dramatic moment of committing to what you were going to do for the rest of your foreseeable future here. Or even worse, get some part of you burned. That would be ugly, and painful. High chance of getting infected as well. Not a good way to die. It was a miracle you hadn’t caught anything. Didn’t they have smallpox here or something? Most importantly has the black plague already passed?

Helaena smiled and nodded as you stepped closer with caution. You say the way Dreamfyre eyed you. She didn’t seem the most pleased with you. Helaena guided your hand towards Dreamfyre scales. You gritted your teeth in fear and leaned back against Helaena. “Wait! Shouldn’t you let her smell me first or something!? Tell her to not bite my hand off!” 

“Dreamfyre won’t bite you,” Helena assured you but it did nothing to calm you. Not as long as Dreamfyre kept looking at you with a look that stated ‘If Helaena wasn’t here you’d be toast. Literally.’

Your hand touched her warm scales and Dreamfyre gave out a huff. You retracted your hand quickly and stepped away, giving out a little squeal and shaking your hands. You took in a deep breath before nodding to Helaena who only gave you an innocent smile. “Okay, I’m ready. To the Riverlands.” 

As you adjusted yourself in the seat you held on tight to Helaena as she commanded Dreamfyre to fly out. Whilst you gritted your teeth Helaena only gave sounds of contentment. Well, at least one of you was enjoying it. As Dreamfyre picked up height you looked over the lands of King’s Landing. You’d like to see these lands a bit better. It would be nice to find a lake. Preferably walking distance or something. You needed to get out more anyway.

“Can we fly closer to the ground, below the clouds? I’d like to look down.” You asked. You assumed Helaena obliged though you could’ve done with a warning as Dreamfyre plunged. You have a high-pitched scream as Helaena only laughs enjoying the weightless feeling.  

Your grip is tight around her waist as you breathe heavily with wide and concerned eyes. Shaking your head you look around watching the unused green lands. Usually, when you look down in airplanes you would see lands cultivated by agriculture. It was almost strange just seeing green undisturbed. In the distance you squint your eyes and what looked like a lake. It wasn’t too far from King’s Landing. You tapped Helaena and pointed to the water. She looked confused but obliged. You gritted your teeth once more and hung onto Helaena for dear life as Dreamfyre made a sharp turn to the right. It only took a minute to reach the lake. It was in the middle of a small valley and coming from a small waterfall. You looked to the southwest and saw that King’s Landing was still in view. If you had to guess it was about three to four kilometers (≈ 2.45 miles) You gave a small nod. Yes, this distance would be good. It wasn’t too far. It was within walking distance. “Helaena, do you know who owns these lands?” 

Helaena shrugged and shook her head. “Who are the Lords near here?” You asked and Heleana paused to think about it. 

“House Rosby, but I think this might be too close to King’s Landing. It might just be the King’s Land.” You gave a hum listening to Helaena. If this was the King’s land, that would work better for you. 

You nodded then told her you were ready to go to the River Lands.

…

“I have already been unseated once before Daemon.” Rhaenerya urged. “Let me at the very least see the children home.” 

“You were unseated due to the uselessness of Laenor, I am not Laenor. I will not leave my brother. The Hightowers have ruled for long enough.” Daemon spoke unbothered by his wife’s dilemma while flexing his thumb. There was some stiffness but the pain was now gone. However, his nose ached. A cunt you were. 

From what he had heard you had left for the Riverlands two days ago with Helaena in search of an herb. He had also heard that you have been whoring yourself out, maids apparently seeing love marks on your chest and your late outings, but who was he to judge? 

Daemon Targaryen. That’s who he was, so he would judge you. He would judge your unusual way of speaking, your lack of manners (had you been a Valyrian woman perhaps he would have overlooked it), and your radical ideas. Everything about you grated him, quite the stroke of luck you must have to be favored by the Queen and his brother. He would’ve had your head by now if it had been anyone else. 

“You should see Jacaerys and Lucerys home.” Daemon looked up from his hand towards Rhaenyra who had a surprised expression apparently not expecting him to agree. “That girl is a minx. Not only does she have the Queen and King’s support, but Aegon and Helaena take a liking to her as well. Jacaerys already seems interested despite being engaged to Baela. I will not have my daughter being left for a slut that can be found on the street of silk.” It would be an embarrassment to him, his family, his heritage. A woman of non-valyrian descent takes the husband from his daughter who is not only fully Valyrian but a dragon rider no less.

“Jacaerys will not father any bastards with that girl much less leave Baela for her.” Rhaenrya held Daemon’s hand. “When I am Queen, I will send her far from here.”

“I’d like to have her executed. Have you yet to see how long Jacaerys spends on Dragon Back during the late hours? That girl has shown him something and now he spends his night searching for them. The boy searches for artists, those who paint portraits, why do you think that is?” Daemon tears his hand away from Rhaenrya. 

“She has healed my father Daemon. What Maesters could not do for over twenty years she has done in a fortnight. If my first action as Queen was to execute her the whole council would call me cruel.” Rhaenrya does not doubt that you have been worming your way into her family, but as it stands she does not have a valid reason to behead you.

“She is despised by the citadel and shows to have no regard for the seven. That girl has plenty of enemies around her, should you behead her, the Old Town will be more favorable to you.” Allies for Rhaenrya’s rule were needed. The first female monarch would need to appeal to everyone. 

“You hate the seven and the citadel. You care little for them, why would we try to please them?” Rhaenrya raised a brow towards her husband. 

“Frame this right and the small folk will despise her. You will be Queen, the first Queen of Westeros.” Daemon looked up towards Rhaenyra as she stood with her hands on her swollen stomach.

“She will likely earn a pardon from Alicent. A sum will be paid to her and the girl will leave back to wherever it is she came from. I will not behead the woman who has saved my father. Once her usefulness is no longer needed then as you said, the Citadel and the High Septons will call for her banishment.” Daemon looks at his wife as she sits down rubbing her belly. You need to go. Now. 

You were quite cumbersome. His brother refused to hear any criticisms of you and with Alicent in his ear, you were untouchable. You had clearly allied yourself with the greens and here in King’s Landing other than a few loyal gold cloaks, Daemon had no one to track you properly. Much to his displeasure Rhaenrya had kept him on Dragon Stone when they married. 

It was a sore spot for him. He left his niece with the impression that she would be able to handle herself and keep the Greens in control. Clearly not. He had no idea how to keep you in check; you did not fear him as much as you once did. That night that he had you running away from him, those days were far behind you. He could only assume that you were wrapping up any princes and princesses you could get your hands on to keep you safe. You had nothing to your name other than the protection of the Greens and now regrettably the future heir to the Iron Throne. 

Your cards were being well played and Daemon felt as if he was the only one truly playing against you. The only one who could see the wolf in sheep's clothing. The only one who saw your scheming and your seduction. The only thing he couldn’t see from you was your end goal. The Iron Throne? To conquer? Conquer what? All of Westeros? You had no dragon and no Valyrian blood as was visible. Mayhaps a spy from strange lands to bring down the Targaryen dynasty. Why? Some free cities weren’t fond of the Valyrians.

Daemon pressed the secret door and walked through the hidden halls of Maegor’s holdfast. As he fastened his cloak around him he heard steps echoing. He paused and listened. More likely than not a rat trapper. He waited and a figure passed him and an unmistakable scent. A conniving little girl you were. When and how did you discover these halls?

His hand itched for his ancestral sword; Dark sister. 

Fuck.

 He had left it in the room, if he were to go back for it he would lose you. Would he get another chance to rid himself of you once and for all? He clenched his jaw and followed you without any weapons. He followed you through the halls. You took twists and turns. Did you know where you were going? Did you know he was following you? Why weren’t you running then? Finally, you stopped and he stopped as well. He saw you press your hand to the wall. There was no door there. You didn’t know where you were going.

He grinned and crept behind you. He heard you give a small gasp and before you could run away he grabbed the hood of your cloak and some of your hair. It would be a while before anyone would find your body. A rip sounded and you were running away from him. He chased after you. You turned the corner. He ran faster but as he turned the corner he felt pain shoot through his face. He groaned but went to punch you, however, you seemed to duct or he misdirected the punch in the dark, he didn’t know, all he knew is that shoved into a nearby wall and suddenly your scent invaded his now bleeding nose as he watched you run back the way you came.

Swallowing the pain he grunted and stood up running after you. Much to Daemon’s displeasure you did eventually find a door and ran out. He chased after you but lost you as you jumped down the stairs and just before you disappeared into the streets of King’s Landing you seemed to turn around. You both stood there, Daemon from the top of the stairs holding his nose and you with all the people and streets of King’s Landing behind you. 

You flipped him off. 

He grunted in frustration as he watched you walk and disappear in the masses of King’s Landing. That was the second time you had caught him by surprise. 

A couple of days later he learned that you had been dealing with madams of whore house in the Street of Silk.

…

The moment you felt the humid air hit you your smile immediately evaporated. The humidity was your worst enemy. It wasn’t long before a castle came into view. It was built upon what looked like a swamp.

“Where are we?” You asked Helaena. 

“Riverrun. The ancestral castle of House Tully. The current lord is Grover Tully.” You hummed as Dreamfyre went to land, though as she roared it startled you causing you to lose your grip on Helaena and nearly slip off. You screamed as you managed to grab onto a rope on the saddle. Helaena gasped and attempted to grab you and in her haste steered Dreamfyre into a sharp left turn. 

You scream again as you help the rope tight. You didn’t dare look down. “Just land her!” You yelled and Dreamfyre dove and you screamed. Maybe a dragon wasn’t such a good idea. 

The sudden change as Dreamfyre gilded whipped you and the rope snapped. You screamed as you were launched into the swamp. You sank into the murky waters and your survival instincts kicked in. You desperately swam upwards, or what you thought was upwards. You were sent into the water spiraling. You were running out of air. As you swam upwards you gave a groan fighting the urge to not scream. A Charley horse now plagued you.

Great. 

Trying to calm yourself down you swam up mermaid style trying to preserve your energy. You took in a large breath as you broke through the water. You aligned yourself into a backstroke position letting your cramping calf float as you swam backwards towards land hearing Helaena shout your name. Dreamfyre had launched you pretty far and now much to your embarrassment people were watching you from the castle as you swam back to shore. 

Finally when you could stand you grimaced as you did your best to get out of the murky water. What if there were crocodiles or worse!? Clearly, things that didn’t exist in your world existed here. Who knows what was in the waters? You made a sound of desperation as you limped out of the water and fell on the grass.

As you rested on the grass you heard buzzing in your head. Great. Of course, swamps and mosquitoes went hand in hand. You swatted it away as you stood up and limped towards Helaena. 

“Are you hurt?” She asked, looking down at you worriedly. 

“Just a cramp.” You paused as an intrusive thought entered your mind. Good lord. What if you caught Malaria!? Your face contorted into one of disgust against your will and suddenly goosebumps covered your arms and your hair stood on end. Under no circumstances could you get bit by mosquitoes or anything here! 

A male voice called out to both you and Helaena. You turned and greeted the…well actually he looked to be around your age, he had a young face. 

“My Lord.” Both you and Helaena greeted each other. The boy or was it a man(?), looking at you with a concerned expression. 

“My lady you appear to have taken quite a fall,” he commented, and although you were completely soaked the back of your neck and face felt hot. 

“Yes, I took a fall…” You trailed off unsure what to say. The faster you leave the place the better. At all costs, you must avoid sickness. The lord invited you inside as Dreamfyre took off. You eyed the dragon from the corner of your eye. Good riddance! The dragon didn’t like you but went a step further and embarrassed you! Madness!

As you limped, Helaena called your name out worriedly as she went to your side. You held your hand out as you gritted your teeth trying to not make any sounds as you went forward. 

“My Lady! You are hurt.” The young lord went to your side. 

“Yes, I swam up too fast. Diver’s cramp. It’s sore, nothing to worry about. It should be better by the morrow” You purse your lips as you hear yourself. ‘By the morrow?’ You had spent entirely too much time here. You were now speaking as they were. You didn’t know how to feel about that.

“Shall I have a knight carry you inside?” Lord Tully offered. You thought for a moment. Well, it would be nice. Lord Tully took your silence as a yes and suddenly you were swept off your feet. 

You hissed as you grabbed onto the knight. “My leg, ser! Please!” 

“Apologies my lady.” The knight was quick to readjust his hand. All you could do was stare at the knight and give a simple smile as his hand was now a little bit higher than what was proper, even by your standards.

Fortunately, you, the young lord, had the insight to send for a bath prepared for you. As the knight carried you up the stairs you were especially grateful. Walking after a fresh cramp was always the worst. Finally reaching your room you smiled giving a friendly tap. “You are a very strong user.” You nodded as he thanked you before leaving.

Much to your displeasure inside the castle it was still very much humid. What you wouldn’t give for your fan right now. This was so much worse than King’s Landing. As you peeled yourself out of the wet dress you limped towards the bath in your room. You sank into the warm water. Honestly cold would’ve been better, but this was fine. 

You scrubbed yourself and waited for your things to be offloaded from Dreamfyre. Find what you came for and go back to King’s Landing. Tomorrow you’d have to go out and you’d be fully covered too, unfortunately.

“My lady, Lord Tully, has asked if there is anything he can offer.” The maid entered your chambers placing your belongings on the side of your bed. 

“Do you have alcohol?” You turned to face the maid. Bug spray had alcohol, no? Your mother used cinnamon to keep away pests such as fruit flies from fruit. Is cinnamon exported from ‘Essos?’ Is cinnamon a thing?

“Alcohol?” The maid asked, tilting her head. 

“Ale, beer, wine. Preferable ale or beer.” You clarified. “Along with that, do you have cinnamon?”

“Of course, I will send for Ale and I’m unsure. We have not imported any goods from Essos. I will ask the kitchen. Anything else?” You shook your head and dismissed her as you began scrubbing yourself. If you didn’t find what you came for there would be a serious issue. At this point, you might need this just as much as the King. 

‘Oh shit!’ You landed on the hard floor and pain shot up your legs as your feet tingled. You groaned as you stood up and looked behind you. Of course, it was Daemon. You stood there trying to ease the pain in your feet. They didn’t exactly have great shoes in this era and the best you had was some sandals and that wouldn’t be any help. If only a second suitcase had washed up with you as well. Where was that second suitcase anyway or the rest of them? Not only did you have your clothes but some sneakers as well. 

On top of that, your hand ached. You weren’t particularly skilled in punching people. You were running out of tricks to sucker punch this man. He wouldn’t just give up! You raised your hand flipping him off before running off. 

‘Sucker.’

It wasn’t long before you reached your destination. You dug into the pockets of your sweater and pulled a piece of paper and of course your prototypes. That night when you returned from your first-ever dragon ride. You had seen a run-down shop that looked like it was going to go out of business. 

Beggars can’t be choosers and this time, you were no beggar.

You knocked on the door and a rancid-smelling man answered. You gave a mute smile trying to breathe too much.

“M’lady this is a late hour.” The man spoke and once more you fought to make a face. 

“Imma busy woman. This is the only time I have.” You looked inside where his family rested—a poor living space. You purse your lips. “Well? It’s rude to not invite someone in.” 

His wife came quickly behind him. She smiled and immediately you were able to see her poor dental hygiene, but there were slight and subtle changes since the last time you saw her.  “M’lady it is quite the mess inside, but please do come.”

You stepped in and luckily it was only messy, not nasty. “Nonsense. It is homely. The unique quirks and the evidence of family is what makes a house a home.” 

‘Smooth.’ You smiled to yourself. The woman was quick to offer you a chair and you gladly took a seat. You pulled out a paper. A little contact of your making. “I can see you have been using my product?” You smile showing off your pretty teeth. “Your teeth are looking better already.” You hammered it in. You needed this deal to go well. It could spell out riches for you.

“Yes! I have gotten so many compliments on my teeth recently, M'lady. This combined with the mint we already chew, I reckon I’ll have teeth as good as you.” The woman beamed and you grinned. 

“That's the idea. I have better teeth than the King himself.” You leaned over the table covering the side of your mouth. “And between us, some would say even better than the Queen herself.” You grinned once more making sure your pearly whites were on full display. “You have a daughter, yes? Start her young and make sure when her teeth are loose, have her pull them out. Don’t let them layer your teeth like a shark. Follow this and she’ll have better teeth than me and of course, a smile is everything. It can make or break someone. Good teeth are the mark of beauty. A man could be missing an eyebrow but the first thing you will notice is a smile. A smile that could win many high suitors.”

Hook.

The man and woman turned to each other with a look you knew anywhere. “You flatter us m’lady, but our daughter would never wed a lord. We’d have no dowry or lands to give.”

Line.

“With this contract, I assure you, a dowry won’t be a problem.” Once more that look appeared in their eyes. The look of ambition. 

And sinker.

“What do you offer m’lady?” The man asked and you grinned. 

This deal was as good as closed. You slid the contract over with a jar of ink and a pen or a feather. “I’ll go over the details, I wouldn't want to blindside you.” You spend the next hour explaining the details of the contract. It was a five-year contract and if both parties were satisfied then the contract would be extended.  

“Well folks gotta make their livin’ normally I’d give a seventy-thirty, but I like y’all. I give it to you for sixty-five-thirty-five. I get sixty-five percent of all profits and you keep thirty-five percent. Sounds good?” You handed over the pen and then looked at it confused. You purse your lips. What's wrong? You were sure you sold it. Answered all their questions, kept the numbers high, and sweet-talked them. That's how you close a deal. Shame them if they don’t think it’s a good offer. 

“We can’t write.” The woman mumbled out. 

‘Shit.’ Did they even know how to do math right? It all depended on their competence. 

‘Note to self, don’t rely on others for a job well done.’ 

“You can’t do math?” You raised a brow.

“Course we do m’lady. We have a shop, we just never learned to read or write.” You smiled. Good, all that matters is counting coins. 

“Alright, we'll have thumbprints, just like this.” You coated your thumb in the black ink and pressed it on your side of the contract. They both followed. 

“When will we start selling these…what do we call them?” The man asked after wiping his thumb on a cloth. “And how much do we sell them for?” The wife asked her husband. 

“Call them…” A brand name was everything. Miswak wasn’t marketable. Maybe you’d steal names from Crest or Colgate. “This brand will be called…‘Sapwood Smiles’ and calls the brush by brush and of course, the charcoal…call it whiting crest. Your slogan could be ‘Timeless Oral Care for Modern Living’ or maybe ‘Your Natural Smile Solution’ or something catchy.” 

“What is ‘oral?’” The man asked as you took back the paper, rolling it up in your hand.

“Oral means mouth in short terms. Oral health is what makes your mouth healthy. Oh, maybe you can do ‘Oral Care Reimagined, Naturally.’ Natural remedies always appeal to a certain demographic.” You stood up and prepared to leave. After all, you had one more stop to get to. “The shipments will arrive in a week or two. I will personally deliver myself. You will sell the biobrush for one copper star and one groat. The whitening crest or just crest will be sold for two copper Groats and one halfgroat. However, should they purchase two it will be the price for two copper stars. Give them a deal. Save them money. After all, I sympathize with the commons, I myself came from humble beginnings. I know what it is to live at the bottom.” And you also knew that you needed to play just a little dirty to get ahead. 

With that, you nodded and bid them goodbye and once more pulled your cloak in over your head. One last meeting in the Street of Silk. You would bet that this idea would be the real money maker. At least the fastest way you could start making money now. You were sure this would catch fast within the brothels.

…

“I’m afraid of the rats,” Helaena murmured as you braid small braids in her hair. You both had been talking all morning about anything and everything. Such a barbaric world this girl lived in. 

“The rats?” You question. Aegon had told you about his sister-wife's strange sayings. 

“No one listens. The rats will come bearing a hollow savior.” Helaena continued and you furrowed your brows. Helaena turns to you with a sad smile. “A dawn of gilded skies, a great age shall rise. A betrayal…” She trailed off looking deep into your eyes. Her lilac eyes seemed to drown you. You felt a sharp pain on the sides of your jaw travel to your tear ducts and your waterline began to fill with tears. It’s like she wasn’t even there. As if she weren’t speaking to you. “A betrayal’s kiss shall usher in the forlorn.”

You drowned within her gaze. A deep pain bloomed in your chest as if you were struggling to breathe. As if you were drowning in waters that brought you here. You couldn’t understand why it hurt. It hurt so much and you felt her cold hands on her cheek. 

“If you will deliver us.” Was her final whisper before she stood up leaving you in the room. Tears streamed down your eyes. Only when she left the room did you feel your breath return to you. You bent, gasping as tears fell onto the carpet. What was she talking about? 

It took you quite a while before you were finally able to get your heartbeat under control and your breathing steady. You shook your head before you limped over to the cinnamon brought to you. Deciding it would be best to distract yourself from whatever that was you began melting shavings of soap. Once it has melted you pour it into the warm water that was bought for you. Then you splashed some ale into the cinnamon water mixture. Once that was settled you let it sit while you stretched your calf lightly. 

Wouldn’t want another cramp. 

Aegon was right. His was creepy because what in tarnation was that!? Most importantly, why did you cry? You couldn’t understand what you were seeing but in that moment it felt like you were drowning or something heavy was sitting atop your chest. Thinking back, you swore you heard pleas and what was this whole thing about ‘If you will deliver us?’ You were NOT a godsent nor a prophet. That misunderstanding nearly got you killed on your first day by Daemon. That was the last thing you wanted to be. Too much responsibility entirely. Not to mention you weren’t one for religion. What god exactly would you be receiving prophecies from? The smith? You scoffed out a laugh at the thought.

Religion here wasn’t something you had paid much attention to. The Great Sept of Baelor seems to be like their cathedrals. Perhaps one of these days you should pay a visit to them, see if their artwork compares to that of catholicism, or if there are any similarities with any other religions. 

The Seven represented by a seven-pointed star reminded you of paganism. No doubt the seven would be villainized like the pagans were. Throw in the excuse of the star looking too much like the star of the pagans and of course, there are the ‘seven deadly sins’ otherwise known as the carnal sins. The Seven were called ‘new gods’ and there were also those called the ‘old gods.’ To your understanding, they were the faith established here by the First Men…or was it Rhoynar or maybe the Andals? No, the Andals brought the faith of Seven, right? Then who is Rhoynar? 

What other faiths were there here? In your world, many faiths exist, including Christianity, Islam, Buddhism, Hinduism, and Judaism just to name a few. From what you can recall the Eastern part of the hemisphere is much more diverse in terms of religion. In the Western part i.e. the Americas, Christianity dominates with its subsections through the continents. Of course, there is Catholicism that dominates both Central and South America, then there is North America with Mormonism, Orthodoxy, and Protestantism. The Eastern part which contains Asia, Africa, Europe, and Oceania, to your knowledge was more diverse. Thought Europe was largely held by Christianity, Italy housed the smallest country in the world inside of Rome; Vatican City was home to the Catholic religion, then the UK held the Church of England, but a majority of Irish are Catholic, then you have Asia which holds many religions but the most prominent are Islam and Buddhism no? Was it Hinduism? 

Either way, you wonder if Essos would be the same. Hosting many different types of religion as opposed to just two. The short amount of time you’ve spent here in the Riverlands you’ve learned that beliefs are separated by region. The North goes by the ‘old ways’ while the South abides by the ‘new gods.’ You’d like to go North one day. You much preferred the cold to the hot and humid South. However, Dragon Stone was nice. A constant breeze was always nice. 

You stood up and limped over to your bowl. You’d have to leave it to sit for another hour or two. That was fine, you couldn’t go out today to find what you needed anyway. Your calf was still pretty sore and you didn’t want to force it. Besides you needed a way to test your little concoction to see if it would work and for that, you need to catch some mosquitoes. Annoying little things. 

Dressing yourself you walk out of your room with a slight limp and a glass jar in your hands. You greeted the Lord Oscar Tully who assigned you a guard as you walked out. You made sure you were covered, even if it meant you’d sweat like crazy in this humid heat. It was fine however, it meant it would attract more pests. You walked out with the knight trailing behind you. You went to sit in a nearby log near still water. That's where mosquito eggs were laid and consequently where you could find the blood-sucking mosquitoes. 

Before you sat down you kicked the log making sure there was nothing in it. After kicking it a few more times and nothing came out you sat down. Slowly you lifted the sleeve of your dress and waited. It was humid and you were sweating quite a bit. It wasn’t long before I heard buzzing. Your head twitched as a response but you sat and waited. 

“My Lady?” The guard questioned. 

“I’m collecting mosquitoes for an experiment. I do hate these things, if all goes well, trust me, you’ll love me. These things can spread diseases, you know? I’d rather not catch any when I go out tomorrow, that means not being bit by these little bloodsuckers.” You explained that the mosquitos landed and you swept them up putting them in the jar.

You could feel the judgment radiating off the man. Oh well. You could make a fortune out of this. You needed the money and of course, there wouldn’t be any generated until next week. You had to pick up the shipment of miswak from the ships and had to grate charcoal. Once you had the money you’d generate jobs as well. Now that King Viserys was going back into politics before you’d make Rhaenyra queen you had to stabilize yourself first. The King seemed to like you a lot better than his younger brother and his daughter did. 

Of course, once the ‘truth’ about Rhaenrya’s children was out your protection from anyone would fly out the window due to you being of no use to Alicent and Otto. Speaking of Alicent ever since those rumors about you spread well she hasn’t been as inviting as she once was. Your time was running out and if you didn’t play your cards right, the rope would be cut and the guillotine blade would fall on your neck. 

King Viserys was your best option to solidify yourself. You need to make yourself invaluable and of course, do a little PR. If your head would be cut off, then you would need riots in the streets. That started with giving the people basic human necessities which was easy enough. They lived like trash. 

As you continued to catch mosquitos you racked your brain. A swear system would be nice. Certainly would be great for your nose. How you hated the smell of King’s Landing. You could smell the shit from five miles away. Not to mention it would get rid of that awful chamber pot. You hated using that thing. It was times like that made you miss the modern world.

Actually, everything makes you miss the modern world. It was torture living here. What you wouldn’t give for a nice hot shower, bug spray, air freshener, cars, trains, electricity, AC, the internet, or really anything from your time. How did the water system work? How did the plumbing system work? Speaking of which, you needed to develop a better water filter, which was easy enough. You already had a concept in your mind. 

You looked into the jar and decided that was enough. Capping it you stood up and walked back. 

“What are you going to do with them, my lady?” The guard asked as you both walked back towards the castle. 

“Test a bug-repellent spray.” You said you were uninterested as ideas ran in your head of how to solidify your position before you installed Rhaenyra as queen.

“How would that work?” He asked in a small mumble as if embarrassed to be asking. A smile bloomed on your face. How you loved explaining things. 

“Hurry on inside and I’ll show you!” You grinned at the man as you both began walking inside with haste. 

Once you both were inside you sat down on the nearest chair and sat down the jar. You then sent a maid to fetch your bowl of cinnamon water. 

“Okay, I want you to watch.” You put your hand over the jar holding it there. “Mosquitoes use three ways to locate prey. Mosquitoes, the females in particular, have a great sense of smell and that’s because only they suck blood. That is how they produce eggs, males on the other hand only feed off fruit because their needle-like proboscis isn’t strong or sharp enough to pierce human skin like the female is.” You grin up at the man and the other who had come along.

“Pretty interesting isn’t it? When they are near you they can smell the sweat or more specifically certain compounds within your sweat that you emit which draws them in. Next is the carbon dioxide you exhale.” You looked up and gave a big inhale. “We inhale oxygen.” Then you exhaled. “And exhale carbon dioxide.” You smiled up towards the guards who gave a nod simply agreeing with what you said. “Finally, what I think is most cool and what you’re going to see right now, is that they can sense body heat. Look.” You took your hand away and where your hand was resting were mosquitoes.

The guards let out a sound of amusement looking at the jar and seeing how the mosquitoes lined the imprint of your hand. “Because of the strong sense of smell, one can exploit that, and theoretically, make it a weakness. See if I opened this jar and placed my hand above the assumption that they would feast on my palm, but…” The maid returned with your bowl and you wet the palm of your hand. Then you twist open the lid placing your soaked hand. “With this, it produced a strong smell that in turn disoriented them thus repelling them.” You placed your hand and just as you predicted they did not get near you much less try to feast. 

More sounds of amusement sounded throughout the hall. Quiet the crowd you had, including the Lord Oscar Tully and Helaena who had curious eyes yet laced with something else. You looked away from her. “Now to show they would take the opportunity to eat I’m going to let them try to eat on my other palm which is not coated with my formula.” You capped the jaw and let the mosquitoes reorient themselves before you offered your other palm and they saw as they went to feed on you. Before they bit you took your hand away. No chances were going to be taken.

“What is this ‘formula?’” The Lord asked and you turned to him. You had two choices. One: You could sell the formula and make a quick buck or two: You could do some charity. A good image here would be good. The Riverlands are in the middle of everything. The word would spread. You needed a good reputation, only now did you realize you needed one everywhere, not just in King’s Landing. 

You smiled as you announced the name of your formula. Of course, you named it after yourself. You will be known throughout all the lands of Westeros.

…

“No more freaky tellings, yes?” You asked Helaena cautiously as you rubbed your formula all over your legs and arms. While Helaena did look a bit dejected she nodded as she too rubbed your formula over herself. “Okay then, let’s find that plant!”

“Five shadows shall creep across the age of light…seeds of-.” You heard Helaena mumble as you both walked into the forest. A sudden weight on your chest began to press down.

“Helaena!” You called her and she looked at you with innocent eyes. “Stop. Listen.” You stopped and a serious facial expression overtook your face. “I don't know what you’re saying and it’s not that I don’t want to listen, but it makes me…deeply uncomfortable and brings up memories I’d rather not remember. Please, stop it.” 

You watched Helaena blink and nod before turning away. Great. Now you feel bad, but it had to be done. You walked cautiously about the surrounding green. This was taking forever and you just wanted to go back to King’s Landing where it wasn’t as humid and your fan was constantly on. 

“What are you looking for, my lady?” The same guard from two days ago asked. Both you and Helaena had taken a guard whilst you went to search for your plant, though after you had told her to stop Helaena had left elsewhere. Hopefully not too far. The last thing you needed was a lost princess. 

You continued to walk forward looking around. “It is a bushy annual plant, ranging from 1 to 6 feet tall, depending on the variety and growing conditions. It has a central stalk from which multiple branches emerge, creating a symmetrical shape.” You moved a branch out of the way avoiding the vines. “Its leaves have serrated edges and are deeply lobed, usually with 5 to 9 narrow, pointed leaflets radiating from a central point. The color ranges from light to deep green, occasionally with purple or reddish hues under certain conditions.”

A breeze hit you and you picked up a familiar scent. You smiled as you went forward trying to catch the smell again. “The leaf and stem itself are often sticky. Then of course there are the flowers it has. The flower produces clusters of small, dense flowers in the female plants.” You spoke and a light green color caught your eye. 

“Plants can be male or female?” The guard asked, confused, chasing after you. 

“Not exactly. Plants can have male and female genitalia. Some can even change their gender and can self-pollinate creating exact copies of themselves, while others rely on pollinators such as bees or hummingbirds just to name some.” You saw Helaena playing with a spider that was entirely too big for your comfort. You grimaced watching the spider crawl on her hand. “Come on Helaena, it could bite you.” 

You saw her look up and nod before releasing the spider.

Ew. 

You smiled and dragged her along. If you found this plant, it would be gold. “Pollinators?” You heard the guard murmur as you felt another breeze and once more there was that scent. You were grinning from ear to ear barely suppressing your smile.

You broke through a treeline and there it was.

“What is that?” Helaena asked. 

You walked to the tall plant taking a bud and inhaling that unmistakable scent. 

“Yerba Buena.”

Note: And the plot finally begins. Pls talk to me! Let me know your thoughts! Also I can confirm that hiding behind a wall then surprise attacking them with a punch does work! But it hurts if you don't know how to punch right.

Previous I Next I Masterlist

To be added to Tag list: !(•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑/Gen Masterlist

[ladykailitha]

Forever Young Part 4

Hey guys! We are back with this amazing fic! Since it's been a bit I'd recommend reading the last chapter: here or the from the beginning: here.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

A bit of a longer chapter with lots of twists and turns and a brief cameo of Joyce and Hopper.

~

Will and Dustin looked at each other and sighed heavily.

“I forgot that there is a distinct messy side to science,” Dustin said, putting his hands on his hips and looking at the bags and bags of garbage out by the garage.

“Let’s see if we can’t find gardening gloves or whatever to protect us...” he waved at the piles with a grimace, “from all of that.”

“Good idea,” Dustin agreed. “There is bound to be broken bottles in there and I really don’t have the desire to call Wayne about needing a ride to the hospital, thanks.”

They found gloves and got to work. They sorted out the bags that were clearly from earlier in the week and focused on the two bags that were the most likely culprits for being from last night.

“So I’m just seeing beer and joint butts,” Will said about twenty minutes later. “How about you?”

Dustin sighed and pushed his bag away. “A whole lot of nothing. Like chip bags and other junk food detritus, no real heavy alcohol or anything that might mix badly with the weed.”

Will nodded. “It just seems like their every day party with out us underaged teenagers. Different kinds of soda and other drinks but nothing that screams body altering drugs.”

He got to his feet and dusted off his knees. “This was a complete bust.”

Dustin got up too. “I don’t think so. Yeah, we didn’t find anything, but that means that it wasn’t drug or alcohol related. That’s something we cross off the list.”

“I suppose,” Will sighed as he pulled off his gloves. “Let’s go tell everyone we didn’t find anything.”

“Let’s hope Dr. Owens has some ideas,” Dustin agreed, pulling off his gloves too. “But I’m plumb out.”

The other four kids were sitting on the sofa, talking among themselves.

“Sorry, guys,” Dustin said flopping on the arm chair, while Will sat cross-legged on the floor. “That was a bust. All they had last night was the usual stuff to get high and drunk.”

“Ours was unfruitful as well,” El said with a sigh. “Dr. Owens said that they had never encountered physical regression before. But he’ll look into it further and call back. I worry he may want to take blood tests.”

“He can fuck off back to whatever hole he crawled out of,” Mike growled. “I’m not letting them do to Nancy what they did to El. I don’t care.”

Lucas put his hand on Mike’s arm. “And we won’t let them either. Especially with Wayne knowing what’s going on. I have a feeling that if they tried to take Eddie, he’d storm the lab with nothing but a shotgun and enough ammo take on a third world country.”

Mike straightened and blinked for a moment. “Oh, yeah. He’d go all Rambo on their ass. Huh. That does make me feel better. Thanks!”

“No problem,” Lucas said with a smile. “Plus if we add El and Erica to the mix, the lab would be razed the ground in seconds.”

El just batted her eyelashes at them sweetly.

“So we’ve got absolutely nothing,” Dustin said with a heavy sigh. “The lab was no help, the garbage was no help. They can’t tell us what went wrong. We’re pretty much stuck until something else happens.”

“Pretty much!” Mike huffed, throwing his head back against the couch cushion. “This sucks. I’ve looked up to Nancy my whole life and after the monsters I’ve admired what a badass she was. But that little girl isn’t the Nancy I grew up with. Like she knows she’s going to be a big sister, but she doesn’t understand what that means right now. For her it’s diaper changes and bottle feeding. Not being a reporter and shotguns.”

There was a creak on the stairs leading down to the basement and everyone looked over expecting Steve as he had slept earlier, but no it was Little Jonathan.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he whispered shyly, sucking on his thumb.

Will was on his feet in an instant. One of the things that Lonnie liked to yell about either of his sons was that they were too soft. That they needed toughening up. The fact that Little Jonathan was still sucking his thumb at this age was sure sign that Lonnie was an ass and that there was no doubt he had hit his son for trying to get comfort somewhere in this big, wide world.

“Come with me,” he said gently. “I’ll take you to the one up here and then show you where the one downstairs is so you if you spend the night you know where it is, okay?”

Little Jonathan nodded, taking Will’s hand. Will led the way and as he was about to close the door behind the toddler, Little Jonathan looked up him and cocked his head.

“Will the Wise,” he said solemnly. “You’ll find someone who loves you for you some day.” Then he toddled into the bathroom and closed the door, leaving a very stunned Will staring at the wooden surface.

When Little Jonathan came out he didn’t seem to remember what he said before going into the bathroom. So Will just led him back to the living room where the teens were gathered.

“Hey there, buddy,” Lucas said with a soft smile. “Did you want to try to go back to sleep or did you want to color until everyone else woke up?”

“M’mm awake...” came the slurred voice of Little Eddie from the floor. “Just restin’ my eyes.” He sat up sort of cross-legged and rubbed his eyes.

Max giggled. “Sure are, big guy. All bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.”

Then Little Robin came in, hair a mess and drool all over her face. “I’m thirsty, can I get some water?”

“Sure!” Will said, his voice cracking. “El won’t you take them to the kitchen, I’m sure Eddie and Jonathan are thirsty too.”

El looked at him curiously, head cocked to the side. Then she nodded. “Come on, everyone hold hands like they did for lunch.”

The kids did as they were told and El took Little Robin’s hand to lead them into the kitchen.

The kids ooh’ed and awed when El used her powers to get the glasses down from the cupboard because it was too high for her to get.

“Cups are easy,” Little Robin said with a giggle. “She can throw cars with her mind, too!”

El froze and the cup headed for Little Eddie stopped too.

“Supergirl!” Little Eddie agreed, clapping his hands and reaching out for the cup. It took everything El had to let go of the cup so that Eddie could take it.

“You should see her fly a helicopter!” Little Jonathan crowed. “It’s so cool!”

She watched them in wide-eyed amazement as they didn’t seem to understand what it was they just said. They just happily drank the water given to them and then handed the cups back to her. She put them in the sink and then led them back out to the living room.

There was Little Nancy and Little Steve sitting on the floor with their heads together, playing tic-tac-toe as they waited for the other kids to come back.

“I think they’re getting some of them memories back,” El said bluntly. “But only in spurts.”

“I agree,” Dustin said putting his hands on his hips. “But when it does happen, it doesn’t stick around for long. Just a memory and then it’s gone.”

Max narrowed her eyes and then cocked her head back and forth. “Well you want to know what I think? I think we should just let them be kids for awhile.”

“What?” Lucas cried, springing to his feet. “We need them as adults!”

“And that’s the problem!” Max snapped back, getting to her feet, too. “We rely on them too much. When do they get to be kids? Especially Jonathan, Steve, and Nancy. They were our age when they first met the Upside Down, when do they get to shirk their duties and have fun?”

Mike grabbed both Lucas and Max and started pushing them toward the hall, but before he could even get them turned around, Little Jonathan and Little Robin burst into tears. Mike closed his eyes.

“I was trying to avoid that,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Please take this argument elsewhere. Dustin and El, too. They don’t need to hear this.”

There was a lot of shouting and protesting as even more of the kids started to cry.

Suddenly there was a piercing whistle from the doorway to the hall. All the teens stopped arguing even though the kids kept crying. They turned to the door and there was Joyce and Hopper standing there. Hopper had his fingers to his lips, pointing to him as the cause of the whistle.

The teenagers stared at them in shock and maybe a little bit of fear too. They were so busted.

“Where did you lot get a bunch of children?” Hopper groused. “I don’t think I’d let any of ya babysit for love or money.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Joyce smacked his chest. “Jim!” she cried in amusement.

Suddenly Little Jonathan broke from the crowd of children and dashed straight for Joyce’s legs.

“Mommy!”

Joyce scooped him up out of habit and then froze. “All my babies are grown up, little one.”

Will and El shared a grimace.

Little Jonathan traced a scar on her chin. “Daddy did that. I’m sorry, Mommy.”

Joyce and Jim both went wide-eyed.

Joyce moved Little Jonathan to her hip to get a better look at the little boy in her arms. “Jonathan?”

The little boy nodded.

Of course the other kids were still screaming so Mike and Lucas each grabbed one of the girls to calm down first. Mike took Nancy and began cooing a lullaby. She hiccuped softly, her sobs slackening until they stopped all together.

Hopper waded in and picked up the two boys, bouncing each on his hip. El immediately stood up and grabbed Little Steve from him so he could focus on getting the one quiet. El reading Little Steve’s mind to find a song that would calm him and started humming that.

Once everyone had stopped screaming and Joyce was over her shock, she sat down on the sofa, her son in her arms.

“Will, what’s going on?” she asked her other child.

“We don’t know,” Will huffed. “We know it’s not Upside Down related. El and I checked, but they just woke up like that.”

“They?” Hopper said, looking closer at the child in his arms. “Holy shiiiiivvva,” he said changing the last word at the last second.

“What’s a Shiva?” the little boy asked, cocking his head to the side and looking up at him with chocolate button eyes.

“Shiva is an Indian god,” Hopper huffed. “With too many arms and lots of rage issues.”

“So holy Shiva makes sense,” Little Eddie said solemnly, nodding. “Uncle Wayne said not to swear because they’re big people words. Can I say holy Shiva instead of cussing?”

“Sure, kid,” Hopper said with a huff of laughter.

“Oh no,” Joyce said softly. “If that’s Eddie, and this is Jonathan are those...?”

Will sighed putting his head in his hands.

“I’m afraid so Mrs. Byers,” Dustin said, putting his hands on his hips. “Steve was the first one found like this, then Nancy and Jonathan. We assumed, rightly unfortunately, that Robin and Eddie were affected, too.”

“Does Wayne know about his nephew’s cute-ifaction?” Hopper asked.

Max chewed on her thumbnail. “I think he was the first to know, but didn’t reach out to the rest of us because he didn’t know it had happen to the others, too.”

Hopper set Little Eddie down. “Sounds like you’ve got a bit of a mess. Especially since the reason Joyce and I stopped by is that we’ve got to head out of town for a bit. We were hoping to make sure Steve was aware he had to keep an eye out for you lot.”

“I’m not sure we can leave knowing the older teens are kids now,” Joyce said, holding Jonathan to her chest.

Hopper just shook his head. “I’d agree with you, but Murray was pretty insistent we both be there.”

“Is it Upside Down related?” El asked, cocking her head to the side.

Joyce sighed and then looked over at Hopper.

“We don’t know yet,” Hopper explained calmly. “We know that the Russians tried to open a gate before and if they’ve got someone like Henry Creel, they might try to insert them into the Upside Down to get control of it for their own ends.”

El nodded. “I’ve been keeping an ear out for any stirrings, but there haven’t been so far.”

He kissed her forehead. “That’s good to know.”

“How long will you be gone?” Will asked nervously. He remembered the last time his mom left and really didn’t want to repeat that experience.

Joyce looked up at Hopper and then back at him. “I don’t know love. I know things went bad last time, but that was because a general went crazy and tried to kill El. That won’t happen this time, I promise.”

“No offense, ma’am,” Lucas huffed. “But I really don’t think that’s a promise you can make. I get that it might be Upside Down related, but I don’t know about anyone else, I’m getting tired of grown ups leaving us behind to take on problems well beyond our capacity.”

“You watch your tone, young man,” Joyce said sternly. “It’s not your place to tell adults what they can or cannot do.”

“Then it’s a good thing I’ve still got PTO coming to me then, isn’t it?” Wayne growled from behind them.

“Wayne!” Lucas breathed in relief.

“Went out bought somethings for youngsters,” he said holding up his loot. “You two can go do what you want. I’ll handle this.”

Joyce chewed on her lip and then set Little Jonathan down gently. “I’m going away for a couple of days, but Mr. Munson is going to watch you and your new friends. You’ll be safe, I promise.”

Lucas rolled his eyes but kept his mouth shut.

“I’ll take care of it,” Wayne repeated more sternly.

Joyce pressed her lips tightly and then nodded. She pulled money out her purse and handed it to Wayne. “To help cover any food they might need.”

Wayne set down some of the bags he had and took the money. “Thank you.”

“We’ll be in contact,” Hopper said squeezing his shoulder. “Keep the walkie nearby.”

They all nodded.

“Who wants to help me make dinner?” Wayne said with a grin, turning back to the other kids.

A cheer went up.

~

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @irregular-child @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @steddieislife @stripey82 @tony-2012 @stedestielfrattficlover @micheledawn1975

10- @moonshadows-13 @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale @morallyundefined @best-thing-at-this-party @ollieolive

[librarycards]

Are calories real? Like ik they measure the energy released from burned food but does that in turn have a meaningful relationship w nutrition? I’ve tried looking this up and only get articles about why I should count calories.

disclaimer: i'm not a dietician or chemist, just some guy who is maybe perhaps possibly a liiiiiiittle too fixated on calories, food, and embodiment.

calories are real inasmuch as any other unit of measurement is real. the kind we use to measure food, actually called the kilocalorie (kcal) = how much heat is required to raise the temperature of water by 1ºC. (the kcal stands for kilogram calorie and is 1000x the smaller unit, the calorie, which is mostly used my chemists etc.).

when used in relationship to food, calories (kcals) refer to the amount of energy a given food supplies our bodies with. following this, people who use a lot more energy per day (athletes/people who are active) need significantly more calories than people who are more sedentary. larger bodies (fat and muscle) need more energy to maintain their size than smaller ones. there are also factors that aren't immediately visible that factor into how much energy we need: genetics, health conditions/past experiences of (mal)nutrition, immediate environmental factors, amount of sleep. age and hormones play a role too.

in very general terms, taking in more energy than your body can use over a long period of time will lead your body to gain weight, and vice-versa. likewise, suddenly increasing activity without increasing how much energy you take in will result in weight loss. these generalities lead a lot of people to assume that weight is a simple equation - you may have heard the phrase CICO, or calories in/calories out, particularly when it comes to people claiming that long-term weight loss is simple and easy.

our bodies aren't perfect calorie-burning machines, though. while it is safe to assume the above - that most bodies presented with an excess of calories will gain weight, and an absence of sufficient calories will lose weight, factors like age, health, genetics, environment, and more will inevitably confound this system. research-wise, it's also difficult to find subjects to do this work on who are not somehow compromised metabolically, given that we live in a world in which calorie restriction is ubiquitous - there is no "pure" test subject unmarked by the metabolic impacts of contemporary dietary practices.

there are also a lot of things we don't know about the human metabolism, especially when it comes to recommending a single daily amount of calories for all people with a certain BMI (arbitrary, junk science) and activity level. it's important to remember that the reason a 2000 calorie diet is listed on the back of your cereal box is because it's a simple, round number, not because it's the default or average amount everyone's eating.

tl;dr, calories are a real and useful unit of measurement, and do matter when it comes to weight loss/gain/maintenance. but whatever myfitnesspal is saying about them is probably nonsense.

[inthemaelstrom]

So we're about six weeks out from another "most important election of my lifetime" and it's predictably making me literally sick to my stomach. When Trumpacabra got elected in 2016, I threw myself into politics in a way I never had in my lifetime and it almost wrecked me. I was one of those people who never voted for religious reasons (long, separate story) and I felt I had to make up for lost time. By the time 2020 rolled around, I was an unhealthy mess. I had stopped reading. Everything. When I wasn't watching MSNBC and political commentators obsessively, I started consuming absolute junk TV: home improvement shows, crack paranormal ghost hunter crap, etc. Things with no plot, no emotional investment, no danger. No fear.

Right before the 2020 election, old fanfic friends from my days in the Master and Apprentice Star Wars listserv found me and saved me.

They dragged me back into fandom, introduced me to Discord, and got me writing again. I updated a story I hadn't touched in 5 years. I made new friends online and in RL. I got some great fiction and fic recs from those friends and discovered a subgenre called Hopepunk—low stakes fiction with very little if any violence and fear and with happy endings. (Becky Chambers writes a lot of what I read, and Amy Crook has also become a favorite.)

One morning, I had one of those really vivid, realistic, linear plot dreams that literally dragged me out of bed to the keyboard. It was a meet-cute modern au of The Phantom Menace's characters, set in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I cranked out about 2000 words the first day. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. And so on every damn day for the next four years until I had four novels, about 668k words, several timestamps written by three other collaborators who've come on board, some beautiful art I've been allowed to use, and now a fifth book in the works.

This is the Yooperverse.

It's not just The Fic That Saved Me, it's the place where I'm writing a vision of what the world could be like into being. A place where people with fucking obscene amounts of money don't spend it on themselves, or hoard it, or exploit other people to get more, but use it to help other people. It's a place where people who are bigoted dicks either get their comeuppance and crawl back under their rocks, or learn better and do better. It's a place where abused kids get rescued, everybody gets therapy and healthcare and is paid a living wage, people learn to value themselves and each other, and protect each other and defend each other. It's kinky and queer (although I'm neither) and above all, if not entirely safe to be both, I'm trying to write both things as just being another setting on the dryer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's not a utopia, by any means, because there are still assholes and the government is still ... the government, and capitalism is still a thing. There's some danger, especially in the first book, and there are accidents and illnesses and the vagaries of life. In the middle of the series, I had spinal surgery and was out of commission for a few months and that made me start thinking more about my main character dealing with aging and the limitations thereof. There's a LOT of mental health issues and the working through thereof, and a lot of ongoing process. Nobody's perfect. The world outside is still pretty much what it is. But in the little corners where my characters dwell, life is pretty dang good, sometimes great.

It's a vision of a life we all deserve. It's the thing I loved about Star Trek's universe, where people's basic needs are cared for and the obstacles to them developing their best selves removed. It's what I've loved about science fiction in general, especially Ursula LeGuin's: that opportunity to explore possibilities that are better than the present. It's modeled on the MacArthur Genius grants, but you don't have to prove your worthiness first. My main character invests in people's potential, young or old, with scholarships and grants and a steadying hand. His partner builds low or no-cost housing for people in need. There's an informal network of queer and straight kid rescuing going on under the noses of unfriendly governments and failed social service safety nets. The main characters build refuges, literal and emotional. They love each other fiercely and respectfully.

Right now, we're living in a country that is almost the antithesis of these ideas, for far too many of us. People are being manipulated by their fears, which are stoked by unscrupulous, lying shitbag politicians whose all too real evil would never make it past the pitch if you were going to try to sell it as a TV show or movie. They're consciously turning us on each other with lies about our common humanity, about the state of our country, about who and what's responsible for many of its faults, sewing suspicion and hate. And though the Yooperverse started as my personal comfort fic, I'm trying in my very small way to counteract what's happening in the world right now.

I've always believed in the power of story to change people's minds and lives, and I've experienced it myself. When I talk about story, I don't just mean fiction, though. I mean the narratives we tell ourselves and others about our own lives as a whole and day by day or moment by moment. I mean the stories we tell about each other when we're together, at the bar, at wakes, at a party. I mean the stories we invest in as fans in whatever kind of media we consume. I mean the stories we spin for ourselves and others to explain what the everloving fuck is wrong with the world.

Stories aren't separate from the world, they are the world. They tell it into being. They give it shape and purpose and meaning and a sense of possibility. Whatever stories we tell ourselves or each other about how things should be or how we should act as human beings (also called our "beliefs" or "morals" or "ethics"), they shape us, and we shape society. We are society, both together and as individuals. One person with a big voice and a story can tip a mass of people into either violence or solidarity.

I have no illusions that the Yooperverse will ever have that kind of power. It has a tiny audience on AO3 and Discord and it's mostly written for me to explore the things I feel deeply about, and wish I could do, and to teach myself to be a better person and live up to my own ideals. It's a world I'd like to manifest, to call into being, even in a small way. Even if it's just a story.

[sophieinwonderland]

An Anti-Endo's Playbook

Hello! Are you an anti-endo looking to convert people to your cause? Well you're in luck because I have the guide for you!

As more studies come out supporting endogenic systems, arguing against pro-endos is becoming harder every day. But let me tell you a secret, people aren't perfectly logical machines. We're emotional and irrational. You don't need science or logic on your side. Instead, your job is to exploit that irrationality.

Let's start with something simple.

Argument by Assertion "Endos Aren't Scientifically Possible."

This is your opening and is possibly the most effective tool in your toolbox. Just say something and repeat it ad nauseum.

See, you don't need to be right. You just need to be confident and state what you want people to believe as a fact. Then repeat it again and again.

Propaganda experts might also call this The Big Lie.

People are social creatures and naturally trusting, so if you say something bold and confidently, they're going to be inclined to believe you. You don't actually need to provide any scientific evidence to support your case, or quotes from doctors, or anything else. Just keep repeating that endos aren't scientifically possible over and over again.

This might not sound effective, but there's a reason a third of the United States still thinks the 2020 election was rigged. If you're confident and don't waver for a moment, and keep repeating the lie, people will believe you.

But... what about the people that don't? What if an endo starts citing actual sources that contradict your claims. Normally, I might suggest finding sources of your own, but given the complete lack of support anti-endos have in academic papers, this may prove impossible. Luckily, we have more tricks up our sleeves.

Appeal to the Masses "Everyone Agrees That Endos Aren't Real."

As we all know, science isn't determined by scientists. Science is a democracy where anyone can vote. That's why even though scientists say we use all of our brains, we can know that the truth is that we only use 10% of our brains, because that's what most people believe and there have even been movies about it and stuff.

This is an the appeal to the masses.

Likewise, most people don't believe in endos. Or at least, that's what you say. See, you probably don't have any reliable polls on hand to back up that assertion, so we're kind of combining techniques here. We're appealing to the masses, but without evidence the masses agree with us, we just kind of have to assert it. As long as it sounds true, then people will believe it.

Like how I bet most people believed me when I said "most" people think we only use 10% of our brain. It SOUNDS like it could be true, and confirms our pre-existing biases that humans are kind of stupid, and that's really good enough isn't it?

What if this still doesn't work though? What if the endos keep demanding evidence?

Well, you can just give them too much of it.

The Gish Gallop: Source Overload

(Example)

You may be wondering, since I mentioned that there aren't any sources that support anti-endos, how this will work.

First, let's take a moment to understand the Gish Gallop. This debating tactic is most commonly associated with live debates where you throw out a bunch of nonsense claims that your opponent doesn't have time to answer because refuting them would take more time than you're allotted. Then when your claims go unanswered, it tricks spectators into thinking the claims are true.

This isn't generally as effective online where people can take hours to compose a response if they want... except...

The online equivalent of this is to overload your opponent with too many junk sources so that they can't debunk them all.

These do not need to support your point in any way. And you should NEVER screenshot them. Remember, your goal isn't to make the information accessible to your opponent. It's to keep the pro-endo occupied reading a 30-page document to try to figure out what it means and how it relates to what you're saying.

If the pro-endo does debunk your first paper, call them out for not addressing your other 20 articles too. Make them out to be ignoring evidence.

If they do call out this tactic and ask for a screenshot or quote of specific lines that back up your argument, respond by self-righteously telling the endo that it's not your job to educate them.

Speaking of education, what do we do about the endo sources?

Ad Hominems: Attacking the Researchers

Ad hominems are great for combating sources.

At the most basic level, you can get a lot of mileage out of throwing around the word "quack" a lot without finding any dirt on the researchers.

You might want to also claim the research is biased in some way. Say for example that a researcher has a hypothesis and they conducted an experiment to test that hypothesis. You can say that this makes the whole experiment biased and therefore should be dismissed because the research already had an expected outcome. Someone might counter and say that most scientists start with a hypothesis. But luckily, a lot of lay people won't realize that.

Let's say, for instance, that someone cites this paper on Vineyard Evangelicals who hear the voice of God as an example of non-traumagenic plural-like experiences.

Instead of addressing the merits of this paper or discussing whether hearing an autonomous and seemingly self-conscious voice identifying itself as God is plural or plural-like, you can look up to see if any of the 200,000 members of the Vineyard Church have ever reported negative experiences. Get one article with people calling it cult-like, and then accuse the endo of using "abusive sources."

Other Strategies For Dismissing Papers: Just Make Up Reasons Why Studies Are Invalid

For these, we're going to rely again on our argument by assertion, and assert some qualifiers for why a study should be dismissed.

First, accuse a study of being outdated.

Now, science doesn't actually have an expiration date. There is some research out there that may be outdated in the way that newer research comes out that disproves it. But in the absence of further research, old papers are generally considered useful, and it's not uncommon to see professionals today still cite sources dating back to the 80s or earlier.

But if you just throw out a number of years for research to expire, you can be sure that many people will take it at face value. But be careful with this. People might believe that 20-year-old research is too old. But it will be harder to sell them on something like "any research older than 5 years is outdated." That's going to be a problem when a lot of endogenic research is actually pretty recent, coming out within the last decade.

Another tactic you can try is to Attack the Domain.

As we're all taught in middle school in the US, only .gov and .edu sources are valid.

This is an oversimplification and is no longer applicable in higher education. But luckily, you're not targeting educated individuals. If you're making this argument, the ones you're probably trying to convince will be traumatized children between the ages of 14 and 17. And for this demographic, this argument is perfect. Not only have they never been to college themselves but neither have anyone in their friendgroup.

They have no concept of what counts as valid source in academic settings, and it's your job to keep it that way. Indoctrinate them young, and they'll stay yours forever.

Demonizing The Enemy: "Endos are Harming Real Systems"

This can take many forms.

At the basic level, you can do the anecdotal "endos are bad because they said mean things about me once." (Be sure to remove any context of things you may have said or did to them first.) There are plenty of endogenic systems out there in the world, and some are going to be cruel and abusive. Just like any other group.

These people are useful to your cause. If you ever had contact with abusive endos or pro-endos before, make sure that you write in detail about your bad experiences and specifically make it clear that they weren't an endogenic system who happened to be bad, but they're bad because they're endogenic. Also, if they're a traumagenic pro-endo, be sure that in your post you just refer to them as an "endo." The goal is smearing the entire endogenic community, and differentiating between abusive endos and traumagenic pro-endos will detract from that goal.

A well known example is the term "traumascum." Despite the fact that its coiner is traumagenic and most of the endogenic community dislikes it, it's important that when you make your emotional arguments to show why endos are bad, you only refer to it as being created and used by "endos."

If you really want to go all-in on this, something else you can do is...

Blame Endos For All Ableism

For this part, you want to try to convince people that any fakeclaiming or ableism they've ever experienced is because of this small niche group of systems on the internet.

In actuality, fakeclaiming DID systems has happened for a long time. The Imitated DID narrative was heavily pushed in all the way back in the 90s. And many of the people fakeclaimed today are TikTokers who are IDing as traumagenic DID systems.

Don't let these facts stop you though.

For the first part, the good thing is that, as I said before, many of the people you're trying to convince are children. If you tell them that fakeclaiming is worse today than ever before, who are they to argue? They have no frame of reference. They're usually younger systems who have only known that they're systems for a few years.

For the second, you can just ignore it. Or better yet, just label all the "cringe" systems as endos, regardless of whether they are or not.

Is calling traumagenic systems "endos" fakeclaiming their trauma? Sure.

But really, you fakeclaiming their trauma is really the endos' fault. If they didn't exist, then you wouldn't be able to call people endos, now would you?

See how smoothly that works?

All Anecdotes of People Who Thought They Were Endogenic Are Proof Endos Don't Exist

Anecdotes are your best friend. If you can find a small handful of people who previously thought they were endogenic and turned out to be wrong, you can weaponize this against all endos.

You can use these anecdotes as both proof that endos don't exist AND that they're harmful to real systems at the same time.

This particular tactic has also been used to great effect by anti-transgender groups, using a small handful of detrans people as proof that transitioning doesn't work and as a means of limiting trans rights. The success of these groups at spinning that narrative is how you can know that this tactic is effective!

More Ad Hominems: Attacking the Opposition

Yup. We're bringing in more ad hominems. This is one of the most important tools in your belt. If you feel like you're losing an argument, you can just attack the person you're arguing with. Actually, you should do this before the argument even starts.

Discrediting your enemy right at the beginning, making people see them as a bad person, will immediately make people not want to associate with them and even make them inclined to disagree with whatever they say.

So try to dredge up anything you can on them to weaponize. Or just casually accuse them of being something-phobic or something-ist.

Calling them ableist is easy. You can shout out ableism accusations right from the start just on the merits of being pro-endo.

If they're a spiritual plural, you can call them racist. This works easiest with tulpamancers since tulpa has a Tibetan etymology. (And don't worry; you won't need to pretend to care about appropriation outside of this context, such as the tulpa appearing in creepypastas or media like Supernatural or X-Files, or Genshin Impact's Hydro Tulpa boss. This is about winning an argument, not being morally consistent.) But it can work with any sort of spiritual system. If you're feeling particularly bold, you can actually claim that all possession states around the world are closed practices and anyone who claims spiritual plurality is appropriating these cultures.

Also, if they use the word "sysmed," because this is derived from transmed, be sure to call them transphobic because they're appropriating trans words. Pay no mind to if they're transgender themselves, or how little sense it would make to appropriate their own language.

Bully into Submission

If simple ad hominems don't work, dogpile and bully them into silence. Invite your friends to join in. Bombard them with constant hate posts and harassment.

The goal here is not to convert people to your side, but to remove them from the conversation. Keep the accusations going. Make up rumors about them. Try to falsely report them to get them banned. You want to make them suffer so much that they never want to post again. To ensure, one way or another, that there is one less pro-endo in the world.

This will work best on people who themselves are traumatized and vulnerable. Luckily, there are a lot of people like that in the pro-endo community you can silence this way.

Be warned though of the emotional tank.

These people have personalities that can tank a shocking amount of abuse and emotional damage, and even turn abuse they receive around and use it as a talking point against your side. They take the old adage of "sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" to heart.

If you try to harass an emotional tank, rather than silencing them, you're likely to only make them stronger and more determined.

Speaking of traumatized people...

Try To Make People Associate Endos With Trauma

Remember to know your audience. And your audience is a group of trauma survivors.

If you really, really want to ensnare them, play on that.

Use it to your advantage. One super simple way to do this is to throw around cult accusations. Just saying endos are a cult will immediately trigger cult survivors and make them want to avoid the pro-endo community.

A more complicated version of this can be done if an endo mentions that we don't have proof that DID or OSDD forms from trauma 100% of the time.

What you want to say in this situation is that "to prove all cases of DID come from trauma, you would need to traumatize children."

You can add a line specifically accusing the endo of wanting to traumatize children, or just let the implication hang in the air.

Now, someone paying attention might recognize that such a study couldn't prove what it claims to. Just like if you did a study where you hit a bunch of people in the arm with a hammer and broke their arms, you couldn't prove that 'all broken arms are caused by hammers.'

But you aren't saying this because you think it's logical. You're saying this because you're trying to get your audience of survivors of childhood trauma to think of endos as people who want to traumatize children.

If you can properly trigger them, then that rational part of their brain will just shutoff and they won't question your premise or logic too much.

How to Keep People Once Indoctrinated

Remember, the conversion process is only the beginning. After that, you want to make sure that they stay anti-endo. A good place to start is to...

Make Sure Friendship is Contingent on Them Being Anti-Endo

Pull people into anti-endo servers that have strict rules against pro-endos and even neutrals. Post "pro-endos" in your DNI to make it known that you don't ever want to interact with any pro-endos.

At the same time, encourage them to cutoff pro-endo friends and avoid pro-endo spaces. Ideally, you want the convert isolated from anyone who might be able to change their minds in the future.

Once you've cut them off from all pro-endos, their only system friends will be in the anti-endo community. And if they ever step outside of that box, they'll be instantly banned from their anti-endo servers and blocked by their anti-endo "friends."

With this, not only have you converted them, but you can reliably keep them on your side forever. Or at least, until they're willing to destroy all their relationships with other systems online in order to get out.

Just Let The Endos Do It For You

Endos thesmelves will actually be your secret weapon in this endeavor.

It's a well-known fact that hate breeds more hate. If you fakeclaim someone, they're going to be angry, and will likely resort to personal attacks. Once your newly-converted anti-endo has been successfully indoctrinated, get them to make some public anti-endo posts. The more hateful and invalidating, the better. Preferably where pro-endos can see.

When endos respond respond to the convert's hate post by sending hate of their own, it will only confirm that endos are actually hateful. It doesn't matter who started it. It only matters that you get an angry reaction out of the endos.

And the more the endos react to hate with more hate, the more the convert will double down.

The absolute worst thing for you as an anti-endo would be if endos stopped responding to hate with more hate of their own, and took a moment to consider if how they're reacting is actually in the best interest of their cause, of if they're just being baited into lashing out from hurt and anger themselves.

[viktor-rp]

Viktor! you’re a scientist. I need to talk to a scientist!

OK listen I’ve been thinking about DNA repair, specifically how telomeres are shortenings and this causes our cells to enter senescence. A cell replicates itself until the associated gap at the 5’ end of the DNA no longer has a telomere to protect it from damaging the coding DNA. But then there’s telomerase which extends those telomeres which lessons this process. Not all our cells have telomerase and you don’t want to give all your cell telomerase because that would lead to cancer. But if you could create a Telomerase that is expressed and degraded on command, I’m not sure you’d still have the cancer problem. You would have to introduce this into all your cells. But it could solve the issue of senescence forwarded aging. I think the issue is telomerase is too stable, if it hangs around and protects the cell too much you get the ability to replicate over and over causing cancer. If we could create a telemetric complex that is almost instantly degraded by the cell and only had the time to do one lengthening we could control exactly how much telomeric length we wanted to add. No. I hear what you’re thinking, ‘telomerase is only had a certain length. What do you mean we could control the length?’ Well, hear me out. TERC. If we modify the TERC RNA template sequence to be longer, telomerase will simply build a longer telomere. RNA polymers certainly won’t care!

just a thought

-a fellow mad scientist

(Ooc disclaimer, this is all my own junk science for the sake of the bit I’m a college student please don’t tell your professors that this is how anti aging works, you’re going to give someone cancer, I’m not a PHD)

Dear Anon,you’ve stumbled upon a fascinating idea—one that dances on the edge of brilliance and chaos. Telomeres, senescence, the delicate balance between life and death... it’s all so tantalizingly close to something revolutionary. But let me tell you, as someone who has navigated the unpredictable nature of science, this is no simple equation. You speak of telomerase, of controlling its expression, of wielding it like a tool to stave off aging. A noble pursuit, indeed. But you must understand—life is not so easily tamed. Telomerase is not just a switch to flip; it is a force, one that can either grant immortality or unleash devastation. Cancer, as you rightly fear, is the shadow that follows such power. Your idea of a telomerase complex that is expressed and degraded on command... it’s clever, I’ll give you that. But even the most precise mechanisms can falter. The cell is a battlefield, and introducing such a tool would require perfect control. One misstep, one lingering molecule, and you risk tipping the scales toward uncontrolled replication. And trust me, I know a thing or two about unintended consequences. As for modifying TERC—extending the template, crafting longer telomeres—it’s a bold move. But remember, the cell is not a blank canvas. It resists, it adapts, it fights back. You may dream of controlling the length, but the cell may have other plans. RNA polymers may not care, but the cell? The cell always cares. Still, I admire your ambition. The pursuit of immortality, of defying the natural order—it’s a siren’s call, one that I’ve answered myself in my own way. But be warned: the path you walk is fraught with peril. One wrong step, and you may find yourself not as the master of life, but as its destroyer. Proceed with caution. And if you ever need a partner in your experiments... well, you know where to find me. Just don’t blame me if things go boom

(THE AMOUNT OF RESEARCH I'VE DONE FOR THIS)

[ratsoh-writes]

How would the main take care of their brother if they were extremely ill?

Sans: well he’s a man of science sure, but not that kind of science. Sans will let the hospital handle most of papyrus’ care, but he does take care that paps is never bored or lonely. Sans visits daily for as long as he can! And when paps is resting, he’s researching about what could be wrong with his brother.

Papyrus: it depends on the severity of sans illness. Like deathly ill will be a trip to the hospital for sure. But just a really bad flu or something? He can handle sans after getting the right meds. He’s a very gentle and sweet nurse, not that papyrus needs to be anything else really. Sans is an easy patient

Star: oh! He enlists the help of his/honeys aunt Jeanie! She practically raised honey so honestly he’d be more comfortable having her as a caretaker than Star. Plus star can’t cook. Honey would be more stressed if his brother was the only one in the house despite stars good intentions lol

Honey: he becomes a full on dictator and even uses his loud angry voice every time he speaks to star. He has to, Star is the worst patient known to man. Star could be on his death bed and still won’t admit he’s sick. And he tries to break out, exercise, work, eat junk, basically anything you can think of that you shouldn’t do while sick

Red: he becomes a complete doormat and just follows edges every order without complaint. His brother knows what he needs right now, and red doesn’t want to make edges headache worse by annoying him lol.

Edge: he also becomes a dictator, but that’s just how edge is. When he’s worried he becomes bossier. Thankfully red is fairly easy to manage when he’s sick. He just sleeps a lot. So edge spends a lot of time angrily practicing his sparring outside to work off nervous energy while his brother rests

Mal: a sick cash is an annoying emotional koala. And he can’t sleep, so mal feels like a new mother with a fussy baby the whole time. It’s taking all his self control to not bite cash’s head off. He swears if his brother doesn’t pass out by this evening he’s going to stab someone-

Cash: when mal is sick, he’s ANGRY. Everything sets him off, so cash wisely stays out of sight unless mal calls for him specifically, and he keeps things picked up on his own.

Oak: he would be very stressed if willow got really sick. Oak doesn’t trust his own capabilities as a caretaker, so he will probably call up a family friend to help out. Most likely it’s either papyrus or grills (horror grillby).

Willow: he has the easiest job here of all of them. A sick oak is pretty much unconscious for most of the day. Willow just has to wake him up periodically to make sure he’s eating/drinking sometimes.

[bardoftheshire]

Weird Science | Chapter IV

Egon Spengler x Fem! Reader (But can be read as NB)

Summary; Basically just a timeskip to when Y/n actually becomes a Ghostbuster. I don't know what else I could've put here because it's that simple.

Notes; I literally started writing this an hour after I saw Frozen Empire (it was great, watch it if you haven't already). Really happy about this though and that it got me to write out another chapter.

Warnings; Mentions of smoking and foul language, as always.

Chapter 4/? | <Previous Chapter Next Chapter>

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

You stood in the laundry room, now covered in slightly dry ectoplasm from the suits that you just put in the wash. The boys went out on a mission and all three of them got slimed by a class 2 apparition, leaving all three of their suits soaked.

It was just a joy that being part of the Ghostbusters means that you get to wash and scrub off slime off of coveralls, the Ecto-1, and some of their equipment as your own suit and Proton Pack were still in the making.

The whole proton pack thing was partially your fault that it wasn't done yet.

Since you'd been working with the boys, with nothing to do you would just tinker around and put the Proton Pack together, of course other than having to take care of all of the ectoplasm. With you being in the lab so often, you got to know Egon a *little* bit more.

Him and you were both quiet, so conversation wasn't really a big thing especially when you were trying to concentrate on something that could go wrong when a small thing is misplaced.

"Hey, Y/n. Me and Peter are going to get some takeout, do you want anything?" Ray asks, leaning on the door frame.

"Awesome! I'll just have what I usually get. Do you guys need any cash to help pay?" You say, getting off of the washer to pull your wallet out.

"No, it's alright, don't worry about it. You've been cleaning off all of the ectoplasm off of everything you don't have to worry about it."

"Alright, thank you, Ray."

"Of course, we should be back in 10 minutes. Don't have too much fun doing the laundry." Ray shouts as he leaves the laundry room.

Right.

You head up into the lab so you could try to get more progress on the Proton Pack, only to see Egon working on it, too.

"Hey, Egon."

Egon quickly looks up, dropping one of the tools that he was using out of his hands, earning a small grunt of frustration from him.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to alarm you. Here." You apologize, going up to him and pulling a crunch bar from your pocket.

You had quite a sweet tooth yourself, so carrying around sweets with you was common. Ray had always poked fun at you about it, saying how I'm a scientist and was eating all the junk that people advise you not to, but he couldn't really say anything, or maybe he could, as both of you smoked regularly.

Egon looked at you and took the candy bar from your hands and putting it into his lab coat pocket, maybe not the best place to store it. "Thank you."

You nod and bend down to pick up the tool that fell on the ground, handing it to him.

"So, what are you working on, now?" You ask, putting your hands on your hips as you look at the machinery.

"I was working on the motherboard. I'd misplaced one of the wires going into it. That's why it wasn't making the proton wand work correctly, but it's an easy fix that will only take a few minutes."

"Okay, well do you need any help with it?" You ask leaning on the table.

"No, it's fine. But thank you." Egon says, continuing on what he was fixing.

"Okay then. Ray and Peter went out to get takeout for us, so they'll be back in a bit. I'll be in the garage getting that slime off of the Ecto-1 if you need me." You walk away.

"Hey, Y/n!" Egon called out.

"Yes, Egon?"

Egon hesitated for a second and went back to his work. "Nothing, sorry."

You knit your eyebrows in confusion. "Alright. Let me know if you need anything." You say, leaving the lab and going down to the garage.

I wonder what that was about? You thought to yourself.

"No, it was your fault, you're the one that didn't ask." Peter says, clearly sounding annoyed.

"We go there all the time, and the meal even said it came with peanut sauce! You can't blame me for it!"

Peter always seemed to like to argue, and about the stupidest shit, too. You shook your head, walking to the source of the bickering.

"What are you two fighting about this time?"

"Ray forgot to ask for peanut sauce." Peter says, crossing his arms like an upset child.

"It's not that big of a problem, Peter. Calm down so we can eat." You sigh, making your way into the "dining area" or "living area". Though, you couldn't really consider it that, it was only somewhat close to that because of the couch and small table inside.

You take a piece of small machinery that you were working on off of the table and place it on the couch, hoping that no one would sit on it.

Ray was unpacking the contents of the bag and placing them onto the table.

"This is your stuff, Peter. Then, Y/n, yours is over here. This one's mine, and then this one's Egon's. Okay, lets chow down." Ray says, looking into each box individually.

You sit in your seat and open your boxes of food and grabbing a fork to eat.

Egon walks in and everyone else sits down and eats their food in silence.

Today wasn't really eventful, the boys surprisingly didn't have a single call today, so they either worked on something else or lazed about.

Egon took the candy bar out of his lab coat and began to unwrap it.

"Did someone give you a little treat, Egon?" Peter says in a singsong tone.

Egon shoots daggers at him, you doing the same as Peter looks at you.

"I'm going to head off now. I'm tired of the events of today. Goodbye now!" Peter says, getting up and cleaning up after himself.

"Oh, you're tired from doing nothing?" You say.

"Yup! See you guys tomorrow!"

Peter still managed to be just as obnoxious as he was in college, if not maybe a little less. You have no clue how Ray and Egon managed to handle his antics and overall personality for all these years and counting. You were barely able to handle him for more than a couple of hours.

You sigh and get up from the table. "Okay, well I'm gonna head out now, too. Thank you for the food, Ray. Don't miss me too much."

"Alright goodnight, Y/n. Be safe!" Ray says, waving goodbye to you.

"Will do. Goodnight, guys."

After you had walked out of the firehouse and at least a block down you realized that you had forgotten to put the laundry into the dryer.

Shoot! I'll just go back and put them in, I'm not that far and I don't want it to get all weird overnight.

You make your way back into the building and head into the laundry room and take out the suits, then put them into the dryer and turn it on.

"Y/n? What are you still doing here? You left 10 minutes ago."

You turn around to see Egon standing in the doorway with a laundry basket in his hands.

"Oh, I forgot to put your guys' suits into the dryer so I came back to put them in." You say, rubbing your hands on your pants to get rid of the slight dampness that came from transporting the laundry.

"You didn't have to do that. I could've put them in myself."

"Well I guess it's a little too late for that now, huh? Thank you though, Egon." You laugh lightly.

"Uh, yeah. I fixed that motherboard by the way, I think the only thing left to do is connect all the wires of the proton wand to the pack. If you don't mind helping me with that tomorrow.." Egon says, adjusting his glasses up on his nose.

"Yeah, of course. Thank you for fixing it by the way. I'll have to get you another "treat" for tomorrow." You say, quoting what Peter had said earlier.

"Right. Well, goodnight, Y/n. I'll see you tomorrow."

"Goodnight, Egon." You place your hand on Egon's arm and leave. You could've sworn you heard a sharp inhale coming from him.

꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷︶︶︶︶꒦꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒦︶︶︶꒦꒷

I think I got this done in like four or five days and I think it came out okay. Thank you for the comments and stuff that I got from this, it makes me really happy to hear that you guys like it!!

@dragonashtray (Here's that reminder!!)

[melishade]

Number 67!

This ask game

Let's continue with the New Age Anthology. The people in quarantine need to start bonding.

Hospital

The Discussion

Comforting the weak

Armin saw a person in a hazmat suit open a slot at the bottom of the glass door and push in a tray of food. Armin walked over to the tray and saw what they were serving: scrambled eggs with broccoli and orange juice. Armin used the fork on his tray to stab at the eggs and eat some of it. As he chewed, he noticed that the everyone else was getting served the same meal.

"Would they miss a fork?" Armin heard Hanji mumble to themselves. What were they even on about?

"It wouldn't kill you to give us junk food!" Miko called out as the people in the suites began to leave.

"Or our tech! I'm missing classes right now!" Rafael shouted, but both were ignored.

"How are you going to explain this to the professors?" Jack asked him.

"I don't know, and I'm annoyed as hell," Rafael groaned in defeat before flopping face first in the bed.

"Is this a university or something?" Willy asked.

"M.I.T.," Rafael informed as he raised his head, "One of, if not the, top school in science and technology. I'm trying to double major in computer science and aerospace engineering. It'll make things easier when talking with the Bots and advancing interstellar travel."

Willy blinked in response. "I don't know what half of those words meant."

"Actually, we don't know much about you guys," Onyankopon confessed, "It's been a few days. Shouldn't we be getting more acquainted if we're going to be working together for while?"

"We could do an icebreaker," Jack suggested as he ate some broccoli.

"Aw what?!" Miko exclaimed, "That's the shit our teachers in high school used!"

"I mean...we do need to get to know each other," Jack retorted, "I'll start."

"Ugh." Miko rolled her eyes.

"I'm Jack Darby. I'm 23, and I like riding motorcycles," Jack introduced himself, "Name, age, any hobbies. Who wants to go next?"

"Hanji Zoe," the commander mindlessly introduced themselves as they were testing the durability of the durability of the metal fork, "34. Love to study titans."

"Oh you must've had a field day with Optimus when he first showed up then," Jack assumed.

"Oh, yeah, I would not leave him alone." Hanji nodded.

Rafael raised his hand from the bed. "Rafael Jorge Gonzales Esquivel. Raf for short. 19. I like computers and coding."

"Armin Arlert. I'm 19 too. And I like reading books about history and nature," Armin volunteered.

"Ugh. Miko Nakadai. 22. Favorite thing to do is listen to and play heavy metal music," Miko reluctantly introduced herself.

"Heavy metal?" Sasha questioned.

"I'll introduce you," Miko offered as she pointed at Sasha.

"Wheeljack might have introduced us to that at some point. I spent a lot of time with him making weapons," Hanji commented.

"Really?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, he's played a lot of your world's music for us," Hanji explained.

"They used our recommendations!" Miko smiled.

"Yeah, it's been really nice listening to what you've provided," Hanji proclaimed.

"Damn it! I wish I had my phone so I can play it!" Miko whined.

"We should continue with the icebreaker," Rafael advised.

"Oh, well, I'm Sasha. 19, and I like hunting and food," Sasha explained before eating some of her eggs, "And the food's been really good here so far."

"Really? This is just bland hospital food," Jack proclaimed.

"I know, but it's nice having a full stomach and not having to worry about food for a bit," Sasha confessed, "Although, I would like some potatoes."

"Maybe we can bribe someone to get us potato chips," Miko suggested.

"Really?!" Sasha pressed her face against the glass, "I don't know exactly what they are-!"

"You're gonna love it. I promise," Miko reassured.

"I'm....Gabi Braun," Gabi quietly said, "I'm 12, and...I also really like the food here too. It's fresh and...there's a variety. Orange juice taste delicious."

Gabi noticed everyone staring at her, causing her to duck her head and drink her orange juice.

"Um...if you're and Eldian, you were considered a threat to the population because of the power of the titans," Colt explained, "Many of us were considered second class citizens and put in internment zones, only really let out under certain conditions."

"...what kind of fucked up nonsense is that?!" Miko exclaimed.

"Miko!" Jack yelled at her.

"Internment camps, Jack! They did this to Jews and Japanese people during World War Two! My great uncle was in one of those internment camps!" Miko shouted.

"We're not here to talk about politics right now," Jack emphasized, "We'll ask about politics when everything is settled."

"Although your politics are super fucked up," Rafael spoke in agreement with Miko.

"Back to the game!" Jack exclaimed.

"I'm Historia Reiss. 19. And I usually tend to the horses as a hobby and a job," Historia explained.

"What's your job?" Jack asked.

"I help run an orphanage," Historia answered.

"Onyankopon Effah. I'm 27, and I'm into engineering. Never really got the chance to pursue it, but I'd like to," Onyankopon confessed.

"Yeah, Onyankopon had managed to draw up the mechanisms for an airplane before even knowing what it was," Hanji added.

"Wow, are you going to replace the Wright brothers?" Rafael asked as a joke.

"The what?" Onyankpon asked in confusion.

"Kenshin Tenno. 21. And I enjoy Kendo," Kenshin introduced himself.

"Oh shit, you're Japanese?" Miko asked in surprise.

"No, I'm an Easterner." Kenshin raised an eyebrow in confusion.

"Kendo's a thing in Japan," Miko declared, "And I saw you wearing a kimono a few days ago."

"Still not Japanese," Kenshin stated.

"What's the capital of your place?" Miko asked.

"Kyoto," Kenshin answered.

"Dude, that's Japan's old capital!" Miko exclaimed.

"So there are a few similarities, but that doesn't mean-!"

"Watashi no itte iru koto ga rikai dekimasu ka?" Miko asked him, causing everyone to turn to her in surprise.

"...Wakarimashita. Atode jōhō o sōgo sanshō suru koto ni naru yōdesu," Kenshin admitted in defeat.

"What did I say?!" Miko flipped back to English.

"Back on track, please," Jack reminded.

"Hi, um...I'm Colt Grice. I'm 16, and...one of my favorite hobbies was playing catch with...my old mentor." Colt felt both sad and bitter as he thought about those moments he spent with Zeke. He didn't even get the chance to say goodbye or have a proper explanation on why he did what he did.

"I'm Willy Tybur," Willy relented, knowing he was the last person to go, "I'm 36...I actually like plays."

"You do musicals?" Rafael asked, "Seems like something you'd enjoy."

"If you think for one second we're playing musicals, I swear-!"

"It'd be a nice change of pace," a voice commented, cutting Miko off. Everyone turned their heads to see a dark-skinned man in a hazmat suit of his own, holding a bag in his hand.

"Agent Fowler!" Jack exclaimed as he stood up.

"Where have you been?!" Rafael demanded.

"Trying to juggle multiple tasks at once," Fowler sighed in defeat.

"Oh, so you get to walk around but we can't?!" Miko demanded.

"Look, Miko, we're dealing with an influx in the population, multiple casualties, and we're all short staffed. They need as many people on the ground as possible. Be thankful you're not out there," Fowler insisted.

"How's my mom?" Jack asked in concern.

"Fine, but busy," Fowler explained as he pulled out a notepad, "Which brings me to why I'm here. I've been doing rounds to try and track family and friends. Do we have a Willy Tybur here?"

"Yes! Is my family alright?!" Willy asked with concern.

"Family's fine. They're being quarantined somewhere else. So far there haven't been any signs of diseases, but we still need to monitor their health. I'll let her know that she asked," Fowler explained.

"Thank you," Willy said.

"And an Erwin Smith has asked for Hanji Zoe." Fowler read the names on the list.

Hanji slammed their face onto the glass. "Where's Erwin and Levi?!"

"Your friend is still recovering from surgery and is quarantining with Erwin and someone named Jean, who's also recovering from surgery," Fowler explained.

"Jean's alive?!" Sasha exclaimed with relief.

"Nurse Darby managed to stop the bleeding, but he'll need a prosthetic from now on. We'll put him through physical therapy," Fowler answered her.

“What about Ymir?!” Historia demanded.

“Her and the other two girls are on the Nemesis. They’re being tested to see if their powers are gone,” Fowler explained.

“Tested?!”

“Non-invasive. Completely safe,” Fowler reassured, "As for you three."

Fowler rummaged through the bag, and Armin saw Fowler pull out some strange electronics.

"I had to snag these from storage, but we'll be able to keep in touch with it," Fowler proclaimed as he opened the slot to Jack's door and slid a rectangle and a wire under the slot.

"Our phone-!"

"Sh!" Fowler shushed Miko as he opened her slot, "Bryce doesn't know I did this and I'd rather not get into trouble for it."

Fowler slid her phone and charger under the slot, and Miko snatched it. "Thank you!"

"Took me a while to find this." Rafael sighed with relief as Fowler pulled out Rafael's phone, charger, and laptop from the bag.

"Thank you so much," Rafael said as Fowler slid the devices under the slot.

"I also put the internet server and passcode on a post it note," Fowler added before standing, "Alright, I have to head out but just bare quarantine for a few more weeks."

"Thank you!" Sasha called out, "For telling me about Jean."

Fowler nodded his head before walking out the area.

"Now that I have this." Miko immediately went to her playlist, "Smash Monkey."

Armin noticed Jack and Rafael covering their ears before Miko pressed a button on her phone. Everyone else winced in pain at the loud screaming and strange music coming from her phone. Kenshin and Historia were telling her to turn it off while Miko banged her head to the music. Armin turned his attention to Jack, and noticed he was typing something on his phone.

(And we are finally done!)

[a-roguish-gambit]

What's Rosemary's relationship with the other x men like? I can see Kurt being the best uncle ever! And the other x men would be the most chaotic babysitters ever

Oh absolutely he spoils her rotten. Kurt is constantly bringing her German candy when he comes, loves listening to her play pretend stories, and is really only strict about bed times.

She loves bugging wolverine. He does not enjoy it but like a dog being harassed by a toddler quietly tolerates it cause he would die for this kid.

Jubilee takes her to arcades and plays crane games with her. Girl is spoiled for plushies. She shows her how to play all the games and will intentionally lose some times if she feels herself start winning a bit too much. She can't do it everytime cause Rosemary gets upset if she figures it out.

Beast wishes she would spend more time with him. He wants to impart all this science onto this potential young protege but s lot of it goes over her head early on. As she gets into school though she goes to him for help a lot with school work and they end up bonding with her.

She calls Xavier Grandpa. Which he finds adorable but it also makes him realize he really is getting old.

She thinks storm is the coolest and wants to be like her when she grows. When she was really little she would run around with a white towel tied around her neck pretending to be storm. She thinks her powers are the coolest and regularly asks for localized rain storms instead sprinkler parties in summer.

Cyclops and jean are pretty standard go to babysitters when Kurt isn't available cause of how responsible they are. Rosemary likes her aunt jean, but is constantly trying to defy uncle Scott's rules. She has her father's perchance for rebellion.

Morph is not allowed to baby sit her alone. Not cause they are mean or cruel or anything. But they will absolutely not enforce curfews and let her have junk food for dinner. It's almost as if they need their own babysitter. Rosemary loves them. They are the best guest for pretend tea parties....Remy might be slightly jealous of his daughters declaration of that.

[hexenmond]

Musk vs NASA

I found this on Mastodon, so it’s a copypaste – please go read the original post by Amata/@sunguramy@flipping.rocks (no login required)!

I've been seeing hate on NASA lately, being bought into by leftists even, and I just want to point out something very important:

Musk has hated NASA for a *long* time. There is a reason it is being attacked, and a reason public opinion is being swayed against NASA: It *keeps SpaceX in line* more than anything else.

NASA is being seen as "competition" to SpaceX, as the obstacle in his way. It has been like this for quite some time, and now, with DOGE and other things, he can do something about it.

I would like to point out a few things:

1. SPACEX IS NOT CHEAPER They boast they can "do what NASA does for 10% the cost!" Sure, it's easy when you did none of the R&D. SpaceX saved on: Landing tech: DC-X project in 1991-1996 Tank structure: Shuttle SLWT tank, 1998-2011 Merlin Engines: direct descendant of the Fastrac Engine, 1997-2001.

Those three things alone saved SpaceX over 90% of the R&D costs. It's easy to "appear" cheap when you're using off the shelf tech someone else (NASA!) developed.

2. NASA IS GREAT FOR THE ECONOMY! For every $1 spent on NASA, $8 is put into economy. Its stupid to not invest in that kind of ROI! 800%! At times, its ROI Has been 1600%!

Simply put, if you defund NASA, the economy would shrink so much you would actually have to RAISE taxes to make up for the lost revenue, and without its existence we would be 30 years behind in technology and the quality of life for everyone would be much lower. Science and research is GOOD for society, it's the fuel for all progress.

3. WHAT HAS NASA DONE FOR ME?! (Surely you just mean NASA is good for tech & science folk....)

Nope! Good for all! Ever have an MRI or CAT Scan? They wouldn't exist without the Apollo program! The software that made them possible was originally written to analyze lunar photography.

Low power digital x-Rays was planetary body research.

Heart pumps are modeled after space shuttle turbopumps.

The software that designed your car was originally written to design spacecraft!

Who do you think pioneered all the early research into alternative power like solar panels, hydrogen fuel cells, and durable batteries? NASA!

NASA developed tech and satellites is also what improves agricultural yields while reducing the needs for water, fertilizer, and pesticides.

Do you really think Musk gives two shits? No. He wants the money, he wants to let SpaceX run amok without any oversight for safety, without any "competition".

All fights are important, but do realise that this one is a huge thorn in his side, and one that is keeping a huge problem from ballooning and swallowing us all whole.

Do not be fooled or swayed by lies, of tactics meant to divide, of things being done to make you be angry at NASA. If he can make you hate NASA, he won.

Expect far more space junk to fall, the night sky to be ruined by satellites, and the loss of all things good that proper research and design does for humanity and gives back to the world. Not to mention: enjoy seeing the horrible things he can accomplish fully unchecked.

ETA: Now that you know, call / fax / email your senators and reps, and whatever else too! Boosting gets people thinking, but thinking is not action!