#i also have never tried playing membrane before today so this was a first for me

[sinren]

@vortship liked for a starter

It wasn’t unusual by now, to see thousands of people all gathered around a large stage outside city hall, to bare witness to the new insights and discoveries that Membrane Labs had to offer. Especially in this town.

Membrane Labs was one of the few exceptional marvels that the city had, and was extremely proud of. And for good reason too.

Today’s exciting news, had been part of an ongoing study that a team of scientists had been hard at work over for months. And now everyone seemed to be waiting eagerly for the grand reveal.

Luckily, the waiting is short-lived, as suddenly from the stage’s floor, a trap door opens. And slowly the man, the legend himself, Professor Membrane, is lifted up by a platform and into full view of the audience.

The crowds scream and cheer in almost crazed excitement as the man now walked up to the microphone and gave a light chuckle.

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen! It always stirs a spark in my chest to see such a large turnout for these types of events. And I can assure you, I for one, am also just as excited as all of you to show you just what we’ve been working on for the past few months here at Membrane Labs!”

More ecstatic shrieks and cries erupt from the crowd for a few moments, until a raised hand from Membrane begins to stir silence back into the mix.

“Now, I know for most who keep in touch with the daily headlines, this comes as no surprise to you. But, just three months ago today, a lone angler here in this very city, caught something in his nets that SHOOK the WORLD! That surprise?? Was THIS, absolute FREAK OF NATURE!”

Dramatically the man turns and gestures behind him. And again, a second platform began to arise from floor of the stage, something much much larger this time. And by the time it had rose, a huge tank full of water was displayed. And inside this tank, an actual, living, breathing siren.

The creature was about ten feet long altogether, and not only was it muzzled, but it seemed to have bandages wrapped around its chest as well. (No doubt to add a little modesty to the wild specimen.)

Half fish, half.. Woman. And all sorts of terrifying to those who’d never seen one before.

An eruption of gasps and cheering filled the air now as the siren placed their hands on the glass and seemed to look around almost frantic. No doubt the thing was terrified being put on display like this.

It wasn’t until photographers and paparazzi swarmed to the front and began to blind the poor creature with lights, that it quickly lashed away from the glass and seemed to flare its fins and hiss behind it’s restraints.

Everyone in the crowd began to ooh and ahh and clap and shriek all over again. As if the creature’s clearly fear-induced reaction was all apart of the show.

Membrane took the microphone once again after things settled some, and his eyes seemed to light up from behind his goggles.

“This my friends is what was known in folklore and myths as a Siren! This creature is half fish, and half human. And yes, it is just as DANGEROUS as the legends warned.”

A mixture of shock and concern filled the crowd for a moment, before Membrane chuckled.

“Not to worry though! The beast is harmless currently. We have it under strict restraints, and we have the best security covering the grounds to ensure your safety! Now, this creature on its own is a marvel for sure. But our team at Membrane Labs has intensively been studying this specimen day and night for ages. And we wanted to share with you, just a few of the amazing discoveries we’ve made.”

#vortship #επιστημονικό πείραμα [Invader Zim Verse];; #//this came out SO long i am s o sorry lkjhkl #i also have never tried playing membrane before today so this was a first for me #if hes terrible i am also sorry for that too LKJHBJN

[extremelyblackandwhite]

scrubs - 5.

pairing: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

warnings: medical check up (please do not follow any of the medical advice described her)

a/n: this will have another chapter aside from this one because yes. 

< previous chapter

    - Y/N, stop being childish. - Sebastian rolled his eyes at the scientist now holding herself against reception, deciding she’d rather be seen by anyone but him. - Y/N, c’mon.

    - I don’t want to be seen by you. There are over 50 nurses on shift today and any of them can do a basic exam better than you. - she held onto that counter for dear life, knowing the moment she decided to let go, her ankle would give up on her. Nevertheless, she knew what nurses were capable off and most of the times they wouldn’t even need a doctor’s opinion so she definitely didn’t need him. 

    - Yeah but ... - he approached her, a smug smile forming on his entirely way too handsome face. - But I know your body so, so well, darling. I think I can figure out if something is wrong.

Y/N smiled sarcastically, cocking her head to the side before kicking his leg. Sebastian bite down onto his lip, back hunching slightly as a few nurses passed by. He waved at them, smiling as if his tibia throbbed due to her kick. For a small woman, she sure had a powerful kick. He straightened his back, pulling one of the wheel chairs from the back of the reception and rolling it up to where she was but she remained as stiff as one could be with a swollen ankle, with one hand against her hip while the other one firmly gripped the counter of the reception. 

   - Sit down, Y/N. Don’t make me write you up as unfit to work today.

   - I am not unfit to work today, I am unfit to look at your face for more than 5 seconds.  

   - Okay, Y/N then walk in a straight line for me, straight spine, shoulders back. - he stepped out of her way.

She considered trying to do that, surely she could deal with the pain of her own weight on her ankle for at least a few minutes. Yet again she considered the options of successfully doing so and getting away from him until another doctor or nurse passed by and the option of falling flat on her face in front of him. Her resolve quickly wore down as she remembered just  how small her tolerance of pain was and how much she did not want to embarrass herself in front of him by falling on her face.  Unlike him, she could be professional. After all she wasn’t the first staff member to sleep with a doctor and certainly wouldn’t be the last; besides, she was nothing if not a professional. She sighed, sitting down on the worn out fabric of the wheel chair. She’d give him this one, she thought to herself as he wheeled her into his office.

Despite her constantly nagging him about his results, she’d actually never gone up to his office that often. Dr. Stan was normally the one who’d made his way to her laboratory not the other way around. As a long time doctor, he had his own little office to receive his patients and as such, he decorated it how he pleased it and despite her wanting nothing but to compliment him after his past actions, she had to admit it was probably one of the calmest more inviting offices she’d seen before. Instead of the scary almost macabre posters of human anatomy and regular pathologies, he had some abstract art on his walls with one or two models on his desk and a most likely fake plant on too. 

     - Want help getting onto the stretcher? 

     - Fuck off, Stan. I can do it myself. - she couldn’t do it herself. 

She looked at the stretcher as a goal keeper looks at a football. The stretcher couldn’t be taller than the height from her feet to just slightly above her hip, yet it seems as if that height was now taller than Mount Everest. Y/N calculated her movements and put her hands on top of the stretcher, pulling herself up with her arms and dragging herself into the middle of the stretcher, legs and arms out but her torso was in so she wiggled herself into laying down completely on the stretcher before pulling herself up.

    - We could’ve done that in a second if you’d let me help you. - he rolled his eyes, stepping in front of her and the stretcher.

    - I can help myself, Doctor.

    - Oh, is Doctor now? - he replied rather sarcastically, pulling opening the glove compartment in his office. - Are you allergic to latex or any ingredient in regular plastic gloves I should know about?

    - Shouldn’t you know if I am allergic to latex? - she cocked her side to the side much to his displeasure. - No, no latex allergies. 

    - Okay ... - he put some bright blue gloves on before walking back to her. - First, I’m just going to palpate around the top of your scalp to check for any trauma or signs of injury. 

    - My ankle is hurting, not my head.

    - You hit your head, it’s standard procedure. - her shoulders slumped as he proceeded to palpate around her head. It felt ridiculous, she was fine, she did not need an examination of her head. - Looks good, no bumps, so the fall probably wasn’t harsh on your head.

    - I could have told you that. Do they not teach you to hear to your patients in med school?

    - How would you know? You didn’t go to med school. 

    - I’m starting to think you didn’t either. 

    - Okay. - he rolled his eyes once more at her snide remark. - The next thing I am going to do is have a look inside your ears to see if there’s any bleeding, just to make sure we’re covering all our bases.

    - Why are you telling me? You’re the doctor. - Sebastian ignored her, taking his otoscope out of the pocket of his coat and placing a rubber disposable tip on the end before putting it up to her ear and switching to the other one. 

   - Everything looks good in both ears, no signs of bleeding. Your tympanic membranes look clear and I didn’t see any fluids or blood behind them. No defects and if it interests you to know there’s also no excess wax build up. Can you just tell me if it was painful or sore when I looked into your ear?

   - Shouldn’t you have asked that while you were looking into my ear?

   - Y/N if you don’t start taking this seriously, I ...

   - You will what?

   - Do you seriously want me to call a nurse on you? I normally only have to do that with children and elderly patients.

    - You wouldn’t. - she squinted, hands gripping the material of the stretcher.

    -  Try me. - he crossed his arms. - I’ll ask again. Was it painful or sore when I looked into your ear?

    - Yes.

    - What?

    - No. - she held in a laugh, bitting the inside of her lip. 

    - Y/N ...

    - Glad to know you have not forgotten your patient’s name, doctor. Doing great.    

    - Okay, Y/N. I need you to be serious with me now and answer truthfully or I’ll order a CT scan for you.

    - I hate CT scans.

    - I know. - he smirked. - So, what’s it gonna be?

    - Would you seriously make the hospital cover an expensive CT scan to check for a concussion that I don’t have just to upset me?

   - Oh, no, sweetheart. If you continue to be a brat, I will order a full body CT scan and if they ask I’ll just say I’m covering all my bases. So, what’s it gonna be? You’re gonna play nice or do you prefer to get an exam done?

    - Call me sweetheart again and you’ll get a concussion. How about that? 

    - You can do whatever you want to do to me after we’re done but until then you will answer the questions I have truthfully. Deal?

    - What other option do I have? - she crossed her arms at him. Y/N knew she was being unnecessarily difficult with him but she also knew that there was a 0.1% chance she had a concussion. Nevertheless, he looked dead serious on ordering a CT scan for her and the last thing she wanted was to have a claustrophobic attack because she refused to answer a few questions. - Fine.

   - Good. So, what time did this happen?

   - I don’t know, I don’t exactly look at my watch after falling down the stairs. 

   - Y/N ...

   - Like ... 20 minutes ago. 

   - What did you feel when you fell?

   - My head was pounding, my ankle felt hottish and I felt a bit nauseous.

    - Do you feel nauseous when you feel pain or is that something new for you?

    - No, it happens when I get hurt. 

    - Any dizziness or blurred vision? Metallic taste in the mouth, almost blood like?

    - I don’t think so.  

    - Any tingling or weird sensations around your face and neck?  

    - No. 

    - Okay, so ... I’m gonna have a look in your eyes. - he took his light from the same pocket he had taken the otoscope from. - I need you to look at me and not at the light. Don’t focus on it, okay?

She nodded, deciding it would be best if she went along with it before she was stuck in his office for a whole hour. He turned the light on and she did as was required of her by staring at him. She thought she could make him feel uncomfortable but it ended up being her who felt uncomfortable as flashes from last night picked that exact moment to return to her brain. Y/N told herself to cut it off and tried to continue to stare at him but gave up after a few minutes of her now sober brain deciding to show her exactly what she had been doing last night. She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes forcefully.

   - Are you okay, Y/N? - he put a hand on her shoulder but she shook him away, turning her face back to a neutral position. - Too bright.

   - Well ... uhm, yeah it is shining directly in my eyes.

   - Okay. I don’t need to look more into them, they look fine. Nothing to worry about. I just need you to open your mouth now?

   - What? No.

   - Why not? 

   - Because ... - because my brain has decided that sounds much less innocent than it actually sounds. - Because I don’t want to.

   - Y/N, c’mon. I just need you to open your mouth and then check your ankle and you can be out of here just like you want to.

   - I don’t want you looking into my mouth. 

   - I have seen you naked and that’s what you’re worried about? Me looking into your mouth? 

   - You are not a dentist, you don’t need to be looking into my mouth.

   - Your answer was unclear so yeah, I need to. Open your mouth. 

   - Stop asking me that. Can you pose the question in a different manner?

   - God, I swear if you’re doing this on purpose. 

   - I am not. 

   - Fine. Say ah, then. 

   - That just sounds worse. - she felt her cheeks heat up. 

Sebastian rolled his eyes, pulling the chair from behind his desk. This surely was going to take longer than expected. He knew she’d be defensive but he didn’t know she would be so difficult. In all honesty, he didn’t even know why she was mad at him. The only thing he could remember was being hit by her files before she stormed off. Yet again, Y/N was almost always annoying with him so it wasn’t a new occurrence. The new occurrence was a patient asking him to reformulate the question. 

   - Y/N what are you ... oh. - it finally dawned on him. - That’s not work appropriated, Y/N.

   - I swear if you keep on talking I will throw you off your own window.

   - So dirty. - he took one of the wooden spatulas from the stand on his desk. 

   - Fuck off.

   - Come on. - she reluctantly opened her mouth and had it not been for the wooden spatula holding her tongue and jaw down, she would’ve probably closed it as fast as she had opened it. - Looks good. I just need to repeat some numbers back at me, okay? 55, 10, 40, 9, 1.

    - 55, 10, 40, 9, 1. 

    - Good. I don’t think you have any concussion. I just need to check your ankle now. Can you put your foot on my lap and please not kick me?

     - I’m tempted to. -  she rose her ankle and placed it on his lap. He proceeded to take of her shoe and sock before starting to palpate around her ankle which was visibly swollen. 

    - I’m gonna turn your foot to the left and to the right. If anything hurts, let me know, okay? - she nodded as he turned her foot carefully to the lift and to the right, but it didn’t hurt, it was just sore. - No pain?

    - No.

    - Good news, I don’t think it’s broken, just strained. Some ibuprofen for inflammation and some ice and in a few hours you can at least limp without pain. 

    - I don’t have some hours. Unlike you, I have work to get done.

    - So do I, Y/N. You think I enjoyed having you take longer than 30 minutes in what should’ve been a 15/20 minute exam? 

    - Oh, I’m sorry. - she interrupted him. - Did my injury overstep on your gossiping about sleeping with me? I’m so sorry, I’m sure the whole hospital will still be waiting for you anyway.

    - What?

    - Can you please give me a minute so I can limp out of here in anger?

    - You think I’m telling the hospital staff I slept with you?

    - Well, the whole hospital knows and I didn’t tell them so unless we had a threesome I have recollection about then there’s only two of us who knew and if I didn’t tell them, guess who did? And before you can answer it’s you, the answer is you. 

    - I didn’t tell anyone, Y/N. I have better things to do than discuss my sex life with the whole hospital. 

   - That’s just dandy. - she jumped of the stretcher, ignoring the pain which started in her ankle and climbed up her leg but she didn’t mind. Now she was upset, one thing was him telling everyone and the other one was denying he had done as such. - You know what Sebastian? I get it, you slept with the lab girl who annoys you and you wanna tell everyone about it. Fine, but at least admit it. 

   - Y/N, I didn’t tell anyone.

   - Fine, say whatever makes you feel better.  

taglist: @rebekahdawkins​

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan au #doctor!sebastian stan #doctor sebastian stan #doctor AU

[professormembranexreader]

Jealous! Membrane x Male! Reader (Smut)

Includes: BDSM, Public sex, Anal, Dirty talk, Degradation

(Y/N)'s POV

"Dad, hurry up. We're going to miss the Bigfoot hunt!" Dib shouted.

"I've told you before, son. It's just a hiking trip." Membrane sighed. I couldn't help but laugh to myself.

Membrane and I decided to go camping with Dib over the weekend. Gaz was hanging out with her friend Tak, whose dad owned the DEE-licious Weenie company. They seemed to understand each other... somehow. Miguel and I were just glad she had a friend her age.

Where was I? Oh, right. Miguel and I had taken Dib with us on a camping trip. We thought it would be good to get him out of the house and off his "alien monitors". Why he insisted on spying on the neighbor kid was unsure, but it needed to be stopped.

Unfortunately, this is the best we could do.

We were currently getting ready for the hiking trip. And by we, I mean Miguel. He never liked getting help unless it was for science or absolutely necessary.

And that meant he got his hair spike stuck on his turtleneck for quite some time before he accepted help from me.

He eventually gave up. The pestering from his son was too much. Giggling, I pulled the hair out of the collar. He pulled the turtleneck down and over his pants. With him finally ready, we rushed to the hiking trail.

We were, luckily, not the last family there. Thanks to my expertise in getting Miguel's hair out of his collar and his robotic arms, we managed to get there a few minutes before the last group.

"Welcome, everyone!" The guide said. "How are you all today?"

The group responded with various loud answers.

"Good to hear! Now today, we're gonna go on a simple hike. Feel free to take pictures as I tell you about the story of the land!"

"Now, I need a helper..." The guide said, scanning the crowd.

"How about this handsome man help me guide the way?" The hiking guide said, pointing at me.

I blushed, and quietly stuttered out, "I don't really know the area that well..."

"What was that? You need to speak up, sweetheart." The guide said chuckling.

Membrane put his arm around my shoulder and lifted his glove to reveal a ring around one of his robotic fingers. The light caught his goggles, turning them white under the sun's glare.

"My husband said he didn't know the area." He said, gravely.

The guide's face went pale, mortified at the realization. While I appreciated no longer being called pet names by a random stranger, I still felt bad for them.

"Miguel..." I whispered.

He turned his head towards the faint noise. "¿Sí, mi amor?"

"Did you have to scare them like that?" I asked. "They were being inappropriate, but that was a bit much..."

While the lower half of his face was covered, I could tell he was frowning from the furrowing of his brows.

"They were flirting with you." He said. "If anything, I should've done more. I'm not going to sit by and watch as someone else steals your heart."

"And I'll do anything to make sure you stay with me~" He whispered in my ear. I blushed and elbowed him in the chest.

"You!" I started. But I was cut off by a kiss on the cheek. That lucky bastard...

The rest of the hike, we stayed in the back. With the exception of Dib, who was at the very front. The guide tried to play it off, but we could tell they were nervous, now knowing they had flirted with a married man. When we got back to the campsite, it was getting close to dinner time.

God knows that Miguel can't cook, so I took over the grill. It was already preheated, so I started the fire and put some (meat/tofu) patties on the grill.

I asked Miguel to do something he couldn't possibly mess up: getting the buns and toppings. He successfully set them down on a table Placed next to the grill.

Soon the patties were cooked , leaving me to make the actual burgers. I made one for each of us, making each one how we liked them.

I don't mean to brag, but I'm a pretty good cook. Not terrible at least. And I've been told I grill a pretty mean burger. So I wasn't too surprised when Dib had finished his as soon as I gave it to him. I simply laughed it off as we finished our meals.

Miguel took off his goggles and pulled down his turtleneck so that it no longer covered his face. I had no clue why he constantly covered his face—he was devilishly handsome. He had a five o'clock shadow, indicating he hadn't shaved in a while. He had high cheekbones, which were still noticeable although covered in a bit of baby fat that rounded out his face. Not to mention the killer eyebrows. Needless to say, he was pretty handsome.

I caught myself staring at him and blushed. I set my head on his shoulder; the action was reciprocated. We watched the stars as Dib ran out his extra energy.

Soon it was Dib's bedtime. And he came back to us, all tuckered out. We ushered him into his tent. Miguel tucked him in and kissed his forehead like every night before rejoining me outside.

"Were you jealous?" I said, seemingly out of nowhere. But I'd been thinking back to earlier in the day.

"What... what are you talking about?" He said laughing nervously.

"Were you jealous back at the hike?" I said, clarifying.

"Oh...um..." His face turned bright red.

"It's not a bad thing, Miguel..." I said putting a hand over his.

"Haré lo que sea necesario para ti." He mumbled.

"Anything?" I said with a mischievous smirk. Miguel began to visibly regret what he said.

"What would you have in mind?" He asked.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

His fingers stretched my hole. It didn't take as much as it did the first time since he stretched me so wide. But preparation is key. He prepared some lube and spread it around my insides.

He slowly pushed himself inside me, earning a sharp gasp. He let me adjust for a few seconds, but soon enough, his cock thrusted inside of me mercilessly. In and out of my ass, leaving me no time to recover.

"¿Te gustaría ese? Tú perra." He growled into my ear.

I bit my lip—we were still in a public place. Dib was in the tent next to us. Not even mentioning the other campers.

I had to stay quiet, but it was so hard when I was being brutally fucked in the ass by my husband. It was more than hard. It was near impossible. I'd always been the more vocal of the two of us. Having to restrain myself like this in such a manner was a painstaking task.

"Oh, god. Miguel~" I muttered under my breath.

"Shhhh~ A Papi le cuidaría de ti~" he groaned into my ear. All I could hear was the sound of his ballsack hitting my cheeks.

God, you're making this so homoerotic. It's almost sexy.

I clamped a hand down over my mouth as he pushed inside my walls. It was so fucking hard to stay quiet. Then he did something that made it even harder to stay quiet.

He took one of his gloved robotic hands and began to jerk me off. I gasped at the doubling sense of pleasure.

"Tch, ¿qué te digo?" He said, momentarily stopping to smack my ass with his other hand. I let out a soft moan.

"Si tú sobrepasas las reglas, te castigaré."

He spread my legs further apart. His subsequent thrusts felt like heaven. I was starting to get lost in the pleasure when he found it. He found it. Oh god he found it. I moaned loudly into my hand.

"Jaja, te gusta ese, ¿no?" He whispered into my ear.

"Sí, Papí~" I moaned out. While I didn't usually speak it myself, I knew enough Spanish to understand what he said in the language. And I also knew enough to turn him on. He grunted and thrusted harder.

It felt like he was rearranging my insides in the most pleasant way. I bit my thumb as he attacked my prostate. He wouldn't stop until both of us were ready. I tried to hold myself back until he gave me the indication. I groaned openly into the bottom of the tent, earning another slap on the ass. I tapped the ground twice, our signal of being close.

He stopped jerking me off and instead used both hands to slam himself deeper inside me. My eyes rolled up as I tried to help him thrust into me even farther. I buried my face in my arms, trying to muffle my moans.

Before long, Miguel was clinging to my back, thrusts rough and sloppy.

"Estoy cerca de-"

"Me too!" I whisper-yelled. My grip on the ground tightened as the knot unraveled. Cum spilled from my cock as I felt a familiar heat inside my ass. I moved to my side and laid on the floor of the tent. Meanwhile, Miguel quickly got out the towels and started cleaning up.

Once he was done, he helped me into the sleeping bag we would be sharing. He laid on my chest and mumbled Spanish into my skin as I ran my fingers through his hair.

Nothing mattered in that moment. Not the morning, not what happened before... Only here and now mattered. And we were together.

#writing #membrane #professor membrane #professor membrane x reader

[dykefoosh]

It's been a year! Transcript: 8/3/21 Here is also a google doc of the transcript if that is easier to read!

*Starts out with happy birthday on a guitar playing*

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthdayyyy to meee, Happy Birthday to me

*Drinks a swig of alcohol*

Ah. Yeah it’s my birthday today, which um seems odd, it doesn't feel like i've been here that long… but I have. Cheers everyone uh. I realise I haven't really done much in a while.

I woke up this morning, rolled out of bed, put out this cake I made three months ago and uh, that's kind of been it, but yeah… I don’t think I’ve left this room in 80 days. About 80 days… How long is 80 days? I- I- that's a lot of months… that's been a long time… Also my vision just went black, I’ve been drinking a lot, um this is that possibly catching up with me um please return vision, I’d really like for it to be back, well I can hear things so at least i'm not deaf ya know? The lord has kept my hearing but I am blind, no um yep there we go.

I decided to get dressed up as well. I figured that would be nice, ya know? I’m pretty sure I was part of them back when I joined, so.. .I don't know if it felt like it made sense to dress up again. Um, fucking hell, I have not cleaned. *sighs* I’ll be honest, in the time I was gone, not very… not very much has happened, uh, it turns out you need customers to support a hotel, and I don’t know about you guys but I haven't seen one on this place for a pretty long while. So uh, basically what I’m saying is… the big jack manifold hasn't been going too hot, god, you don’t provide these guys with food for eighty days and they all go bones and evil.

LEAVE out you bard, you-

The point is, very little has been done here for quite awhile, and um I haven't been outside or seen anyone, and I- I didn't’ finish the pub. Um, you may be asking me, “but jack wasn't that the only thing you were working towards? I know but with the failure of the hotel, I kind of realised that again pubs also rely on customers and the very limited people on this server, as we can all see it really ah um, well it didn’t seem very fruitful. So um, we're kinda just here, living here rent free ever since we claimed this place… I actually don’t know who pays the rent.. Maybe Tommy still does um. I Don't know- anyway since I’ve been here for a year and I haven't really looked around in three months, I thought we would go and look around at everything that we once saw, you know?

I must admit the investment of the alcohol from the pub has been the only thing keeping-.. I shouldn't say that, let's not speak about that part. Yeah it turns out that this place, look I haven't been outside in eighty days and I think maybe since I’ve been here for a year I can go back and have a look around at everything. And um as I said I dressed up for the occasion, so um you know… lets see what's changed hmmm?

Anyway let's walk around shall we? Well this didn’t change, we still got mcpuffys here. Hehe, no one noticed my balls sign hehe, no one noticed, I forgot about this, no one noticed I replaced whatever the original one was with balls in hope they wouldn't notice and they didn't. Ahh that's good, I like that. Anyway, there's the duck and Ponk’s tower that seem pretty much the same.

This looks different, this was a hole.. Who are you? Alright? You know we are the only two people on the server right now? (talking to shroud) This basically means we gotta become friends. So.. tell me about yourself.. Sir? Madam? Shroud, alright. Oh Ohhh I stole some of these! Did I ever give them back? Whoops, oh well. Ahh, it's been quiet without him ya know tommy. I’ll be honest, theres been very little to do, with him gone, um, the fuck did ninjas house go? Why does it look like a very small mcdonalds?

Right, this tower, this seems pretty much the same. Does the sewer still exist? Hm oh wait does it not? What ohh no what happened to the sewers? Aw, there was a whole sewer system out there one time and oh wow. Why is there no longer a sewer there? Wait oH OH it is down here!

One of the first things I remember is me tommy and tubbo and quackity, before he even joined and was still in juvy we, hehe, we did a little heist on everyone and we stole the poo machines and stole everything and then we had a little room, and it was here and we stole the phantom membranes. It was a good time, it was a good time, I liked that and then ah there had only been one war. It's crazy to think there's been more, I thought we’d figure it out the first time, you know? It was fun. And we were called the beatles. Either way yeah.

Why the fuck is half of this place beatroots? Why are half of these beetroots and the other half potatoes? Why is it all farm?? Why? Why is it beats? Wait where did gay target go? Why is there just a beacon here? At least there's huts pizza. Employee of the first two days, of dunderbeatlin… the fuck is dunderbeatlin? What's this? Why are there new things? I know it's been eighty days but why?

This is the L’manburg museum, bearing in mind I'm dressed like this I should go see it.

Oh! It's like different things. This is like the community house, okay that's cool and that's the egg.. This is a replica it won't hurt you… oh it doesn't it won't actually hurt you. I guess they remade that shit. What even happened with that thing? I remember it tried to possess me once and then I bathed in the holy water and I was good again. Oh wow it's like a map of the whole server and there's egg gunk. And then and then and then here.. Where am I? Oh… is that lmanburg? Where is lmanburg? Oh wait oh yeah yeah wait I forgot…. Oh…. yeah….. Um….heh yeah….

OH its the lmanburg walls! I remember tearing them down and rebuilding them a lot and the hotdog van! Does it have the declaration in it? No it doesn't… It is blue. Ohhh…… I joined the day after this (the final control room) God, it's been a whole year since then… What's this? Wait… I feel like there's missing lines here. I don’t know if sorry, you know? Oh, look here, oh it just says i'm sorry. (erets apology book) I’m not all that sure that sorry quite cuts that. What's this? Oh this looks unfinished. Oh here's a map of old lmanburg! OH that's ze house! Before… I burnt it down and decided I wasn't gonna have manifold land anymore.. I miss that, I miss lmanburg.

It was a lot easier to dream when we were friends. Everyone feels so distant now but maybe that's because I haven't seen them, maybe that didn't help I mean no one came to say hi to me. Oh, oh, my main takeaway was that, wait it's not glass anymore, it's like a cavern, it was glass the last time I was there, it's changed since I was here to remember what happened… Why does it look like this? Hmm I don't know. Ah this was my cove, and it was untouched until I burnt it down fuck you.

Oh and theres my secret base that I never finished, FUCK YOU - fuck I hate him, anyway… oh there's the big obsidian bridge, oh isn't this where tommy was exiled? Over this way? I think… That means it was somewhere along here that… wait no it was right here… right? We turned on these stairs, stepped down, and pretty sure it was right here… he dug this.. I don’t think I want to visit this place. I want to go back, this isn't really where I want to be.

Anyway um, I wonder if Snowchester has changed. Lets go visit, okay um, that's weird that's freshly planted. Let's head over to Snowchester its that way. Since when was Tubbos' house back? Didn’t Tommy burnt it down? I swear this got burnt down.. I remember the ruins of it, there was a nether tree farm then in it… anyway…. Let's go check out fundys place. I haven't seen him in FOREVER. The last time I saw him was the last war… the day… the last war… WHY ARE THERE BIG MUSEUM THINGS EVERYWHERE??

Where's fundys house? I built it. I remember building it as a prank and then he liked it and lived in it.. Where's my tower? It was here next to the fox, his little fox hole… my towers were gone, it was definitely here, it was a million percent here and it was right next to it. It was somewhere there was a button it had a button. There was a big sign made out of obsidian…

I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve been pretty purposeless for the past eight days… what the fuck? That's a HOLE. That's a big ass hole! That wasn't always there?! When did a hole show up?? There's a HOLE in my hotel!! I'm trying not to lose my cool and you know when I go the day that I joined, and the first person that greeted me was tommyinnit and still, I wish, I just wish someone logged in and said “hey jack happy one year” and I try to build them a pub and one of these *drinks a swig of alcohol* I mean at least..

Every time….. Everything here and how come it's all the things I care about that get blown up? Lmanburg… Manifold Land- Well I did manifold land but I was pissed off - Everything I care about on this server gets blown up, or destroyed or taken advantage of or.. Betrays me, that happens a lot. I’m not sure if I wanna be here anymore.

I’m not sure if I want to have anything to do with this… maybe that's it. Maybe that's it. What does this place bring? What does this place bring? Ever since I have been part of the “Dream SMP” Things are given to me that are eventually taken or destroyed, friends leave, DEATH, not everyone has died on the server and come back to life admittedly, I have now but the point is, I AM VERY DEFINITE I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS SERVER ANYMORE… Alright? Almost everyone that has promised me something has turned their back. Almost everyone. The last thing anyone said to me was “Ah when las nevadas comes about, we will have a deal jack.. I’ll make it big” Yeahh.. .he really brought a lot of business. How's Las Nevadas doing?? Because when I HEARD it would be done and bring me customers, surely not another person would give me false hope.

Tubbos was the only one I can trust, Tubbo and Niki. I know Niki has become an anarchist or whatever but at least she's happy, and Tubbo was always kind.

I think Las Nevadas is somewhere over here. Let's go look at how “done it is” and how ready for business they are… Looking PRETTY finished for me. Big sign, big building, nice roads. Looking pretty… done. Pretty ready for a business deal. Isn't that a shocker… Isn't it weird yet again that someone promised me something and it fell through again?

So FUCK IT I don’t wana see Snowchester, I dont want to see anything, My WHOLE TIME on this server has been doing things for other people and fighting peoples wars, right? Keeping up hotels and pubs for people to stay, trying to kill people at worst that wasnt me and fighting for them. I haven't done anything for myself. ANYTHING AT ALL. And I said the hotel was for me and look where it got me- in a room for 80 days and a giant bottle of cider I have yet to finish- so fuck it! I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. The “DREAM SMP” I’m gonna go out and start my own thing. I’m gonna call it the “Dream SSP” survival single player because I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. Alright?

The day Tommy died, I said I was done with manifold land because the only thing it ever stood for was trying to get rid of him, and although it was also about getting back at him, it was about other people, but this time, I have something new in mind, something completely different…

NEW Manifold land will not cater to anyone else, not fight for anyone else, to I don’t know be anything for anyone else really. New Manifold land will stick very strictly to the name and persist of purely Jack Manifold, and I might steal Godzilla back from Tubbo (his arctic fox). Because as much as I said Niki was kind and Tubbo was kind, where they been the past 80 days? No one came to the hotel. No one came looking for me to which point, I say I’m gonna find myself my own little place. I’m just gonna live. I’m gonna do what I want, the only thing is, I need to find an area of my own, we need to travel. So let's get moving hmm?

#dsmp transcript #transcript #jack manifold #c!jack #big manifold hotel #c!niki #c!tubbo #c!tommy #dsmp #lmanburg #manifold land

[belit0]

Madara making his s/o squ1rt + Daddy k1nk. 

Request for the anon who asked this a while ago, here you go, more of my brother. I get it, he’s hot, but damn y'all crazy for him.

Writer added daddy k1nk cause she wanted to.

You are sitting in Madara's office, wrapping up some envelopes with documents to surprise him with the gesture. You're trying to be a good girl, you were misbehaving last week and your neck shows the marks of how he made his grip on you, it hurts to sit down and swallow is a difficult task. Helping him through his work while he's in a meeting is a way of proving you are willing to stop being a brat and start behaving.

It really is boring. Seal a paper, put it in its envelope, close it, make sure the Uchiha symbol is neat, repeat. A monotonous little routine that seems to never end. The pile of documents seems to grow as time goes by, and all you want to do is get out of that room.

You love Madara's office, it is one of his favorite places to fuck you, on his desk, on his work. Secretly, you suspect that it gives him special pleasure if he takes you over paperwork that is related to the Senju clan. His big velvet chair is the most comfortable piece of the whole house, padded and soft. The most suitable furniture for your battered thighs.

Wearing a T-shirt of him and only your underwear, you caress the material under your body, feeling the softness and comfort of sitting without experiencing pain. The Uchiha did not used to give you such severe punishments, and for that to be the case, it is because you had been out of place. As when you humiliated him in front of his brother a few days ago, describing a moment of vulnerability that had to be kept private.

The problem was that you came across a peculiar situation, something never before witnessed in your eyes, which awakened your curiosity and generated the need to ask Izuna about your man's past. It was a lazy morning, where both of you were just waking up after an intense night almost without sleep. You went into the bathroom as any person would, without noticing that he was there taking a piss. When you made yourself present, his inspiration was immediately gone, he got frustrated and threw you out in a huff. Without understanding what his problem was, you analyzed what happened, and discovered that you had never shared the bathroom simultaneously. Of course, to brush teeth and take a shower, but not to use the toilet. Did Madara have a trauma with peeing? Izuna would probably know.

After asking his younger brother, who seemed strangely happy when you told him about it and did not stop laughing throughout the story, the older Uchiha began to be harassed by the younger one every time he tried to go to the bathroom. Somehow Izuna was always behind him when he tried to pee, making him angry and forcing him to stop.

Because of the torture your man suffered thanks to your curious mind, the worst punishment ever given in the history of your relationship appeared without warning, making you endure more spankings in one night than you thought you were capable of. But his resentment continued for days, and your perverse attitude did not help the cause.

That's why you had made the decision to behave at least for as long as it took your buttocks to lose the bruises he caused. Being bratty with him is something you are passionate about, but now you only have the option to behave well and obey because technically you owe it to him.

There are still too many documents to be sealed, but you hear the front door opening and closing, and that makes your attention focus on that part of the house. You know your man has arrived, and in a apparently better mood, as you hear him whistling a tune as his footsteps echo down the hall. The first destination he visited was the bedroom, and you smile at the fact that he thought he would find you there, resting from his lesson.

"[Y/N]?"

He asks generally towards the house, hoping to hear your voice from somewhere to find out where you are. But to gloat and annoy him, even a little, you prefer to keep quiet and continue closing letters, completely ignoring his presence.

You feel him calling you several more times, climbing the stairs, going out to the patio, searching in several rooms. Why would he expect you to be in his office? You would have nothing to do there when he is not at home. It is the last place he checks, and when he opens the doors, there is a slight sign of concern in his features.

Of course, you can't help but smirk at this, it's the most you can play with him without provoking more punishment for your body. You watch him with narrowed eyes and without ceasing to work.

"What do you think you are doing? It's not funny."

"Was it a little, wasn't it?"

"Haven't you had enough? Do you really need more?"

"No! Of course not! Look, I'm trying to make up for it, I'm being a good girl for you daddy."

"I don't know, are you?"

Having said that, he enters his office and heads behind his desk, to where you are sitting. You know this means he wants you to sit on his lap, so you get up and let him settle into the seat before you climb onto him.

You try to kiss him, but he stops you.

"Keep working, you're not done."

Obeying, you seal a document, and when you want to take an envelope to put the paper and leave it closed, it is Madara who holds it in his hands in front of your mouth.

"Put the document in and close it with your mouth."

"B-But..."

"Do you want to have Daddy angry?"

"No..."

"Go ahead. No hands."

You insert the paper into the packet, and as the Uchiha indicated, you slide your tongue around the edge of the packaging, from one of his fingers to the other. When you reach the other end, his digit goes into your mouth without warning and smoothly. The task you were performing falls forgotten on the desk.

"Suck it well, show me what a good little girl you are.”

Pleasing your man, you stick your back to his chest, leaning your head over his shoulder while your tongue dances on his finger and fills it with saliva, giving him little sounds of approval. A second one enters your cavity, and you begin to move your head back and forth as if you were working on his cock, feeling his eyes on your lips.

"I think my baby has missed her milk bottle, hasn't she?”

Nodding on his lap, you feel like a hand is moving your underwear, and taking his wet fingers out of your mouth, he directs them towards your pussy, massaging the outside and wetting you completely.

“I'm still very sensitive..."

"Don't worry baby, I don't plan on messing with your tiny clit today. Daddy will teach you how to go to the bathroom.”

With those words, his two fingers are pushed inside you mercilessly, positioning themselves in the shape of a claw and rubbing that thin membrane on the top of your stomach that simply made you curl up and close your thighs over his arm.

"Open your legs or I'll have to spank you again, you bad girl.”

Moaning uncontrollably, with your head tilted back and sliding over his lap, your vagina makes watery noises every time Madara's knuckles hit your outer lips. Your feet are suddenly on his knees, allowing him better access, and with his arms he forces your thighs to stay apart, while his free hand runs to the side your soaked underwear.

"D-D-DAD-DY!"

Spasms run through your body and no coherent thought crosses your mind, you don't even care that your juices are dripping from your cunt and staining the upholstery of your man's chair, as he keeps his legs open along with yours. You're intoxicated in those digits working wonders on that magic point in your body, while the punch of his fist somehow also manages to act as a masturbation for your punished and over-stimulated clit.

You can no longer resist it.

"What's the matter girlie, do you feel like going to the restroom? Come on, do it on my hand, give all your fluids to dad."

With a final scream, a stream of liquid flows from your pussy, smoothly and strongly, hitting Madara's hand and landing on the floor. The Uchiha exerts pressure with his fingers inside you until the liquid stops pouring and your body stops shaking, leaving you exhausted over him and unable to gather strength to care about the mess left in his office.

"Oh no... what a bad girl... what a bad, bad girl... look what you did on the floor... I will have to teach you another lesson..."

"B-B-But-I..."

"But? You said, but? You have some serious behavioral problems. Come here, Daddy will fix you up."

#uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #madara scenario #madara imagine #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader

[prof-zimbrane]

The Face of Love

Summary: They’ve done almost all the dating cliches in existence, they’ve been in an established relationship for a while now but there are still secrets between them. Secrets pertaining to a certain someone’s true appearance. Zim loves Professor Membrane and he’s sure that the feelings are mutual but should he risk it?

Word Count: 7443

AO3 link

Yo, here’s a Zimbrane fic for the upcoming Halloween. It’s got body horror?? I guess so read with caution. It’s nothing too bad. Believe me, I bet it’s something you won’t expect ;)

It’s my first fanfic?? ever I guess so please be gentle and if possible, give me feedback on how I can improve cuz I love this pairing and I wanna write more for them ;-;

Zim’s current love-slave has everything Zim ever wants in a partner. Professor Membrane is brilliant, tall, good with weapons, and has caused Dib more anguish and doubt than Zim could ever cause.

Zim knows and has seen what Professor Membrane can accomplish. Combined, they’d be the greatest gift to the universe in all its existence. But there is this… oddity to their relationship.

Most couples would’ve already known how the other really looked like, appearance wise (actual personalities are sometimes never revealed), at their current stage. Yet somehow, Zim has never seen his partner’s face.

Sure Zim hides his appearance, but unlike Professor Membrane, Zim is pretty sure he has a lot more to lose, given his “foreign” heritage and occupation as an invader and all.

But Professor Membrane must be human, right? Whatever horrible thing he’s hiding under his lab coat and goggles couldn’t be the worst Zim has ever seen. Zim isn’t superficial enough to stop loving someone based on their appearance, height notwithstanding, hell humans are already ugly enough to Zim yet he still decided to pursue the scientist.

Maybe Professor Membrane was scarred or disfigured? Or maybe he’s so horrifyingly ugly according to “human” standards that he has to hide it. Dib does have a rather large head after all and Gretchen’s the only one Zim knows (has been told) that seems to like Dib.

There’s nothing wrong with asking things from your partner. In fact, it would only be fair for Zim’s burning curiosity to be satisfied. If Zim wants to find out how Professor Membrane looks like, then he will find it out. He is Zim, nothing is out of the question. But is he ready for it?

He could leave things as they are and continue like normal, or he could confront Professor Membrane and find out what’s hidden underneath. But would it be too soon? They’ve done all sorts of couply things together already, according to Zim’s “dating humans” guide list he devised when learning about human affection that one dreadful time with Tiq? Taco? T something, he still misses his robot bee, Robbee never even completed his first mission, but that’s irrelevant now.

They’ve gone to an expensive eating establishment (Zim paid with Earth monies but those monies were outdated cents and quarters), they’ve watched the sun set and looked at the stars (one of Zim’s favourite moments), they’ve watched horror movies in the cinema (they were more horrified by the actions of the teens surrounding them though), and they even did a “Netflix & Chilli” (Zim still believes that the alien Jim is a loser for losing his leaders to a space anomaly).

They’ve even passed through several stages of physical affection. It started out with staring, then casual pats, they’ve even skipped straight to hugging before hand holding. They haven’t begun eating each other’s faces yet but Zim still finds it repulsive and another factor in the brutishness of stinky human courtship rituals.

Today was one of their date nights. Their plans only included dinner at Zim’s base. Though, Zim hopes that Professor Membrane will acknowledge his amazement at Zim’s awesome cooking skills and be willing to show his face once and for all.

 ---------------------

Dinner went off splendidly. Although the turkey had an unfortunate extra ingredient added to it, in the form of a dysfunctional, hyperactive robot. Professor Membrane thankfully thought of it as a pleasant surprise, meant to showcase Zim’s brilliance.

But now comes the hard part. Zim has to convince the Professor to stay for a while longer. He can do this.

Zim mustered up all his courage and held Professor Membrane’s hand as he was about to say his goodbyes.

“Wait! Stay a bit longer! I still have much to do with you!” Zim looks desperately into Professor Membrane’s shiny goggles, he HAS to find out what was underneath or else he’ll be restless for the entirety of their relationship, which would definitely affect his plans.

“What? We didn’t plan anything else for tonight though. Dib and Gaz should be fine but this is rather sudden.” Professor Membrane looks at their clasped hands and Zim’s hopeful expression.

“What is it that you want exactly? Are we going to your lab again?” He questioned.

He’s been helping Zim out with his inventions, spending a lot of hours just tinkering together in harmony. Science has always been a delight to do but with Zim, it feels like he’s experiencing it for the first time ever. He’s regained some of his wonder and childish curiosity with Zim’s input and feedback.

Anxiety was visible through Zim’s body language. He was hunched over, his eyes hurriedly shifting from left to right and back. He exhaled.

“I want to progress our relationship to the next stage,” Zim admits, “it’s just that, all we’ve done so far is hold hands and cuddle. Not that I hate it! If you ever stop then I will go to your house at night and replace your roboarms with bamboo skewers!”

Zim lets go to cross his arms and glare.

“Well, it is true that we’ve been taking it slow. I could say that part of it is my fault for being unfamiliar with this... relationship thing.” Professor Membrane muses. Is Zim dissatisfied with what they currently have?

“I’m sorry Zim, am I going too slowly for you?” he asked.

“No not at all! You satisfy me plenty. I admit that I’m also new to what we’re doing right now.” Zim quickly denied.

Professor Membrane feels relief. As a scientist, he can deal with all sorts of fields but relationships were harder to understand.

“That’s good, I treasure you and our love together. I don’t usually get to have a lab partner who’s not an employee of mine.” He confesses. He’s grown too attached.

“Great! As for the reason I am keeping you here for,” Zim paused.

He was in the right to ask for things. He shouldn’t feel worried.

 “I’m demanding that you show your face to me.” Zim said resolutely. He looked expectedly at his human.

Professor Membrane felt panic. He should’ve expected it. He didn’t think it would be now though.

“My face? There’s nothing to see! It looks quite boring underneath.” He tried to play it off.

Zim looks dejected and hurt. Professor Membrane ignored him, that hurt.

“But I don’t even know what you look like. I don’t know the colour of your eyes or the shape of your face or even if you have weird lips. How can I be sure that you’re not a new person every time we meet? Are you even the original Membrane that I confessed to? You’re not another weird clone right?” Zim accused. Starting a chain of repeated lines.

“I’m not…” Professor Membrane answered.

“Are you?”

“I’m not…”

“Are you?!”

“I’m not...”

“Are you?!!”

He had enough. While he may love Zim, he doesn’t enjoy this continuous back and forth, even if it is somewhat cute.

“ZIM!” he shouted, “I swear by my 24 degrees that I’m not a clone. I’m the only original Professor Membrane in this reality.”

“Then why are you hiding your face from me? Don’t worry! I don’t mind if you look hideous. Just show me your trust.” He tried to look harmless but inside, Zim is worried that he’s asking for too much. Something is telling him to trust Professor Membrane in return.

Professor Membrane remained silent for a while. He’s debating internally over whether he should show Zim his face.

But eventually he relented to Zim’s request.

“Alright, I’ll show you but do you have somewhere else where we could do this? Your kitchen-lavatory room is not what I have in mind for sharing personal secrets”

They looked around. Gir, still in the turkey, was taking care of his many pig friends. The camera Dib installed is still visibly there, recording their conversation. Zim should remind the Computer to disable it or have it record a non-stop footage of Floopsy Bloops Schmoopsy.

“Urghh, I guess it’s fine.” Zim groans out. “Join me in my basement.”

He leads Professor Membrane by the hands through a closet that goes underground. It was different from the other places of Zim’s underground level. Here is where he kept his more Earth friendly technology.

It looks somewhat similar to Professor Membrane’s own lab in his basement, except with what appears to be a waiting area, with a sofa, a soda vending machine and a receptionist desk. But the only life there were bundled in the cobwebs of the receptionist’s chair. The receptionist is apparently out for smoke break.

They settled on the comfortable purple sofa. Anticipation was in the air.

“Well? Show Zim the goods!” Zim holds out his arms in a ‘gimme’ gesture. He can’t wait to see what all the fuss is about.

Professor Membrane takes off his goggles first to reveal his eyes. His fingers then undid the upper half of his lab coat to reveal the bottom half of his face. Underneath his lab coat he wore a tight, black turtle neck.

It’s not what Zim expected. He was shocked. His previous expectations were crushed like humans should be underneath his boot.

There’s nothing wrong. Professor Membrane’s face looks like any other humans. If Zim were human, he’d even consider Professor Membrane’s face to be ridiculously good-looking, even by celebrity standards. But Zim wasn’t a human so, to him Professor Membrane’s face was as ugly as all the rest of the human species.

Even Professor Membrane’s eyes are nothing extraordinary, except for the glowing blue light that the irises emit and the pupils that expanded and contracted like camera shutters.

Zim actually found himself feeling slightly disappointment, since there was nothing special to look at.

“Is that all you have hidden there? Why even bother wearing your coat and goggles so conservatively?” Zim says annoyingly.

“That’s just my fashion sense.” Professor Membrane says chipperly.

He laughed disconcertingly, a drawn out “Ha ha ha,” as if he were watching a comedian embarrass himself instead of delivering actual jokes.

He’s trying to placate Zim. Professor Membrane was acting strange. His lips seem to be delayed by a couple of nanoseconds when he speaks. If it weren’t for the many modifications Irkens had to endure, Zim never would have noticed.

“Your eyes are different though. They’re not brown like the eyes of the Dib-beast or the little Gaz-monster.” Zim is judging Professor Membrane.

Zim’s nicknames for his kids were odd but somehow, they sounded charming to the Professor.

“I had them replaced when my vision was failing, you know how humans are with all the limitations of biology.” He hand waved his difference away. Zim is still not satisfied.

“Let me see them closer.”

Zim leaned on Professor Membrane. He’s holding Professor Membrane’s face in his palms as he stared deep into his human’s eyes. Zim always thought that human eyes were freaky, with their milky white sclera. But Professor Membrane’s eyes were pretty. He had long lashes and the electric blue glow they emitted reminded Zim of Tallest Miyuki’s calm gaze that captivated the hearts of her people.

Zim observed the rest of his face, Professor Membrane’s nose looked regal and fit him perfectly. Zim also notes that his features were perfectly symmetrical, another contributing factor in human attractiveness, although this time it also extended to Irken beauty standards. Finally, there was something both races had in common.

Before he realized it, his gaze then went down to the scientist’s lips. They looked soft and had a perfect curve to them. But they were pressed tight, stiff and unmoving.

He was removed out of his stupor when Professor Membrane uttered a word, Zim’s name, from his perfectly shaped lips. Such perfection was otherworldly, it shouldn’t exist. There weren’t any blemishes or other hideous imperfections on his skin either.

“Zim? Zim! While I do find your attention flattering, don’t you think you’re too close?” Professor Membrane said in a hitched voice.

Professor Membrane’s eyes revealed his current emotions more than the rest of his face. Despite the nervous tone, his face remained stoic, his wide-blown, erratic pupils betrayed him instead.

Zim hadn’t realized, but he’s moved so close that he was kneeling on top of Professor Membrane. They’ve cuddled before, it’s true, but never this close, and never face-to-face with Professor Membrane’s exposed, hypnotic eyes.

It was the first time Zim didn’t feel revulsion at seeing a human. His past self would’ve spitted at him and called him a filthy xenophile for feeling whatever this is. But Zim putting himself before his empire was nothing new, although it still hurt him to acknowledge it.

“You’re actually not too hideous. I am pleased.” Zim tried to sound dismissive, but it’s clear that he is affected by his lover’s appearance.

“I’m glad my face pleases you then, my celestial lover.” Professor Membrane said warmly.

His expression was light. A smile graced his lips. That made something flutter in Zim’s innards.

But he began feeling another rare feeling, guilt. What is it with all these feelings now?? Zim is too great to be bothered by that. Yet, should he reveal his actual face? Would he be dissected or worse vivisected if he did? He doesn’t want to live out the rest of his life stuck in a tube. His partner was related to Dib after all and his passion for science is, at times, obsessive.

Zim was distracted from his worries by a sudden pressure on his lips. They were soft. His love was kissing him. That was Zim’s first kiss. Not just Zim’s first kiss on the lips but first kiss in general, and it had to be lip-to-lip.

Before he could respond to Professor Membrane’s actions, the Professor drew back with a sheepish expression.

“I’m sorry Zim, I didn’t mean to kiss you like that.” He mumbled.

Professor Membrane’s arms, which were previously stuck to his side, lifted to caress Zim’s head.

“I couldn’t help myself, you’re really cute Zim. Was it too soon?” He asked.

“No it’s fine. I liked it. I liked it a lot.” Zim felt dizzy. He was embarrassed to admit it to himself, but it was the truth.

“There won’t be any cannibalism though right?” asked Zim. Worry appeared on his face again but more exaggerated than before.

“What if there was, what if I admit that I want to eat you up?” Professor Membrane said teasingly. He’s amused by his love’s thinking.

“If anyone does the eating it would be Zim!” he exclaimed. “My love-pig is no match for my razor sharp teeth.”

Zim shows off his pink, zipper teeth. Another odd thing about Zim that captivates the curious mind of the Professor.

“Perhaps, we should test it out with a little experiment?” Professor Membrane’s eyes sparkled with mischief.

“What kind of experiment?” Zim questioned.

“An experiment where we find out who’ll consume the other first.” He challenged Zim.

“It will definitely be me.” Zim grinned, showing off his teeth again.

This time, it was Zim who acted first. He pressed his lips tight against his human’s. Zim’s antenna tingled underneath his wig, if he hadn’t stuck it tightly with adhesives before, they would’ve sprung free from their confinement, he’s learnt his lessons during Earth’s many challenges.

Professor Membrane held Zim tighter towards his body. As if he never wants to let go, as if he’s afraid of losing Zim.

Zim’s hands were still occupied with exploring every inch of Professor Membrane’s face. He wants to burn his love's features into his hands, forever imprinting their impressions into his memory.

But, during Zim’s explorations, he began noticing a long depression near the outer reaches of Professor Membrane’s face. It wouldn’t have been noticeable, if Zim hadn’t been an Irken. Irkens had really sensitive skin, that’s why they cover themselves up so much.

He paused his kissing to get a better feel for Professor Membrane’s face. The depression circled the outer cheeks, over the eyebrows and seemingly ended between Professor Membrane’s upper and lower lip on both sides.

“My love? What are you doing?” Professor Membrane stuttered out. Yet, Zim’s previous observations about the stoicism of his features seemed sprung out more than ever.

“There is something you’re keeping from me. I can sense it beneath my fingers!” Zim accused Professor Membrane.

He stood up from his previous position to pace around the room, never taking his eyes of his lover. Zim moved like an interrogator in a prison. He won’t stand any lies.

If Professor Membrane could emote more, he’d have despair written all over his face. His right hand began covering the bottom part of face, in a nervous gesture.

“Zim, my love, there’s nothing wrong. Come back to my arms. Whatever you felt must have been due to your unfamiliarity with my face.”

Still seated, he leans towards Zim with his arms spread out.

“Oh no! Don’t lie to me! I know what I’ve felt, I’ve seen how you move your lips. Why don’t you trust me?!” Zim recoils.

Zim’s never trusted anyone before but he expects trust from them. Zim has always believed himself to be a genuine person, sans his human disguise, and to have his character or actions questioned really pissed him off.

“You’re right Zim,” he relented “I am hiding something. I’ve only shown this to a few of the people I know, and it’s always ended in them disappearing. Not even Gaz or Dib have seen me without this.”

There’s something chilling about the way Professor Membrane says it. It was like Zim stepped on an old landmine, waiting to see if it’ll end in a disaster or not. He’s not sure about what Professor Membrane meant by disappearing but he doesn’t want to question it. As a part of the Irken Elite and as an Irken soldier, he can face anything.

“Don’t worry, whatever secrets you hold won’t be enough to scare me away. I love you, I’ve never loved anyone before.” Zim’s voice was soft, remarkably different from his usual screeching.

How many times has he said those words? Aside from his first sentence towards the only parental unit Zim ever knew, he’s only said it to Professor Membrane.

Again, Zim is doing something uncharacteristic. Was he trying to ease Professor Membrane’s discomfort with this entire thing? Trying to convince himself to be brave? Or was it just love that made Zim say that. Could a human really make Zim question himself that way? What kind of person is Professor Membrane to hold this much power over Zim’s heart.

“Please, don’t look away.” Professor Membrane pleaded.

He walked towards Zim, the height difference more noticeable now that they’re standing in front of each other. But that difference disappeared though, when Professor Membrane kneeled in front of Zim.

It was like one of those Earth movies that Zim watches, where one of the members of a couple kneel down to ask for a union. But instead of reaching into a pocket for a small rock, Professor Membrane reached for the sides of his face.

Slowly, he revealed what’s hidden underneath. Zim was right. Professor Membrane was disfigured. What he didn’t expect was the severity of the disfigurement.

In all of Zim’s time on Earth, with his countless research on human biology, he’s never sliced off anyone’s face. But even then, it wouldn’t have looked like Professor Membrane’s current features. His face was a prosthetic.

He has no face, no barrier protecting his passageways from the outside world. The only remaining parts of Professor Membrane’s face were his lower jaw, his temples, and his eyes.

Looking closer, Zim could see that the glow of his eyes was concentrated on the front part, the only part that is visible with Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic. The other half was encased in metal, connected to his organic parts with wires.

It was fascinating actually, seeing the mucosal tissues of a human. There was so much pink, pink like the lifeblood that flows through every Irken’s veins. His tongue was resting on top of his lower jaw, it was weird seeing it disappear as it nears the throat, going down the oesophagus.

Zim could also see a marriage between the organic and mechanic, as metallic parts are there to support and cover some of the exposed meat. Where there should be the nasal passage, was an artificial tube.

The edges featured tiny magnets, probably to hold Professor Membrane’s faceplate. Zim has seen much in his lifetime. He’s seen how cybernetics could replace almost anything but it was always visible if something is unnatural. Yet, Professor Membrane’s face, or at least his prosthetic, was good enough to fool Zim.

It was better than a hologram, that only mimics and changes appearances visually. It was something turned physical. Zim should feel disgusted, but instead he was more amazing than Zim could ever imagine.

The Professor’s technology was even more intertwined with his biology than Irken technology is with Irken bodies. While almost everything is genetically enhanced or modified, the mechanical aspect of Irken’s only constitutes their Pak, which is located outside of their bodies, attached to their spine.

“Love, speak. Do I scare you?” When he talked, his voice projected out from his throat. He had a voice box implanted. His tongue and lower jaw aren’t enough to make the appropriate vocalizations.

It was at that moment that Professor Membrane tried to cover up his gruesome anatomy with his faceplate but Zim stopped him. Before he could attach his face back on, Zim snatched his prosthetic.

Zim says in a low tone, or as low as he could try, he still sounds loud.

“No, you don’t scare me. Your current appearance doesn’t even disgust me. Instead, you intrigue me. I’ve never seen a human like you before.”

“In fact! Everyone else is disgusting compared to you.” He said louder, almost giddy-like.

“You’re brilliant! A genius worthy of Zim even! You merge technology so wonderfully, I want to see more!” There was audible excitement when Zim spoke.

“Zim, you don’t have to attack me with compliments. Is that really what you think?” Professor Membrane whispers, it’s hard to talk without his prosthetic. He uses a voice box but the movement of his artificial lip over his real lip was enough to make him believe that he is producing sound the natural way. It hurts.

Zim is studying the face prosthetic Professor Membrane designed. It was animatronic. The movement was controlled with nanotubes and circuitry connecting to small motors. If Zim wasn’t concerned about offending Professor Membrane, he’d rush to his underground labs to study it.

He feels a surge of affection, this is his human, no one else’s but Zim’s. Even other aliens don’t compare to his partner. Some were even too stupid to be alive, but somehow they live.

“Don’t be foolish, foolishness doesn’t suit you. You know that I adore you.” Never has Zim uttered something so soft before.

“I love you for your mind,” he kisses his lover’s forehead, “your strength,” he kisses his lover’s robo arms, “your height,” he kisses the hair scythe, “and everything else about you.” he leaves a big kiss on Professor Membrane’s prosthetic and Professor Membrane’s lower jaw.

Professor Membrane was stunned, his lower jaw dropped down and his electronic eyes emitted an even brighter glow. Zim hands Professor Membrane the prosthetic.

“Now cover up your holes before the germs invade you. I will not be having my lover be sick due to some pathetic Earth virus.” Zim looks at his lover. If he could, he would kiss the Professor’s soul, so only Zim would remain in the scientist’s heart.

Professor Membrane, places his face plate on with a ‘click.’ He lifts Zim up in his arms as he stands from his kneeling position. Zim shrieked as his feet lost contact with the ground.

“I was right to love you, Zim!” The Professor was gleeful.

“You’d be stupid if you rejected me.” Zim’s smugness at being loved reached an all-time high.

Professor Membrane twirled Zim above his head and hugged him close.

“You remember how I said that I never showed this to my children?” Professor Membrane hummed into Zim’s wig.

“Yes?”

“Please don’t tell them.” The Professor begged. His request surprised Zim.

“The Dib really doesn’t know? Wonderful! You have nothing to fear! I’ll keep your secret. You must really love Zim then!” Zim laughed maniacally.

Zim was so euphoric, his legs were moving back and forth.

“I’m glad I showed this side of mine to you. I like to imagine that, if I had an actual face, it would look similar to my prosthetic.” The current richest inventor and researcher on Earth sounded defeated.

The feeling returned. The feeling called guilt. Here he is, in the arms of his lover. His lover who doesn’t even know that Zim is from an entirely different race, sent to conquer his beloved Earth. It was a heavy feeling.

Is Zim actually empathizing with this human? He feels wrong, dirty, for taking advantage of someone like Professor Membrane. It was like he was spitting at the Professor’s intelligence.

There is no turning back from this relationship. At least, no way of turning back on his love. If Zim were to break things off, or just disappear, he’d end up with a broken heart. He still doesn’t know why it would hurt but just the thought makes his squeedilyspooch twist in angst.

He wants to continue whatever this is. He wants to feel light, feel acknowledged, feel loved. But if this really were mutual, then Zim would have to reveal his Irken self and be exposed as the enemy he is.

The Professor is still holding Zim up. He seemed content having Zim in his arms. Cuddling and nuzzling him. This is a comfort unmatched by any other.

Zim doesn’t want this to end, he’s ruined almost everything else good in his life. The Tallest haven’t contacted him in ages and the Massive and Irken fleets still remain missing. It’s lonely being the only Irken on Earth. Every other Irken is fleeing from the colonies they’ve conquered.

If Zim were to meet his demise, then he wouldn’t mind it being at the hands of his love, his equal. He breaks out of his lover’s grasp. He knows what to do.

“With all these secrets we’re sharing with each other, I believe that it is only fair for you to cast your eyes on my amazing self!” Zim acts confident, he can do confident, he can be cocky about his real looks. After all, he is handsome in all ways except height.

“Yes Zim, you are an amazing specimen.” The Professor looks at Zim fondly.

“You don’t get it! Focus more on my actual features. I know this disguise is amazing but you, as Zim’s equal should be able to tell where I differ from the rest!” Zim said angrily.

“Ok? Well, you have no visible nose or ears, you’re green and you have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.” His eyebrow lifted up in confusion as he spoke.

“Yes, yes I know my attractiveness is intimidating. But do you think I’m too attractive? Out of this world even?” Zim expects him to say the truth. The full truth. He’s not sure if he’s ready to be the one to confess things.

“You’re the only I know who looks like you.” Professor Membrane doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t you think it’s strange? The Dib always accuses me of being an alien.” Zim is stalling. He hopes that the Professor will find out on his own, so Zim wouldn’t have to admit it.

“I know my son is a handful, I’ll tell him to be more considerate of your skin condition.” The Professor said, exasperatingly, he doesn’t know what to do about his son.

If Professor Membrane thinks that that is what Zim is asking for then he really needs to join a reading the atmosphere class. Professor Membrane can be really blind at times.

“NO! The Dib-beast is right! I’m an alien! I’ve always been an alien. I come from the planet Irk. What you saw a few months earlier was real.” Zim said it. He can’t wait for Professor Membrane to find out his identity, it might take decades.

He takes off his contacts, his wig, and his goatee and threw them to the ground.

“I’m the alien you fought that day!” Zim points to himself.

“Look at my pink solid eyes, look at these antenna. Don’t you think I’m an alien?” He becomes more frustrated as he pointed out each strange thing about himself.

“Oh Zim, don’t worry about your appearance, I’ll always find you attractive. Your eyes are lovely by the way. You don’t have to call yourself an alien.” Professor Membrane still refuses to see what’s right in front of him.

Zim tugs off his gloves and boots.

“I have three fingers! I have two toes! Is it getting into your brain yet? I’m an alien.” Does the Professor want Zim to degrade himself further? Should he perform a little song and dance to the tune of the Irken Empires anthem?

“Those things could be congenital defects. I’m glad you’re comfortable enough with me to share your insecurities.” Professor Membrane’s attempts at being understanding are pathetic.

“Unless, you’re doing this because you hope to scare me off?” His voice takes on a worried tone, completely unwarranted in Zim’s opinion.

“You stupid, dumb, idiotic human!” Zim screams out.

Zim removes his shirt. He never intended to turn this into a sort of striptease, a term he learnt from a drunk guy who decided to ‘put on a show’ for more booze monies. Zim is glad that Gir dunked him in molten butter and popcorn because that display really disgusted him.

He drags the Professor down to have a seat on the floor and positions his Pak towards Professor Membrane. He also extends one of his spider legs. Hopefully, this will be enough to convince him of his extraterrestrial origins.

“Look at my Pak! Touch it with your robo hands! What you’re looking at is high quality Irken technology.” Zim is tired.

Professor Membrane is transfixed. He’s never seen something like this before. The Pak wasn’t stuck on superficially, it actually goes into Zim’s back. Studying it for a while, he realizes that it’s not made from materials found on Earth and it’s more advanced than anything he knows, something that shouldn’t be possible.

“I am a member of the Irken race. An intergalactic race who’s currently trying to take over the universe. I am an invader brought to Earth to take it over for Operation Doom II.

We modified ourselves biomechanically to be the ultimate species. The Pak you’re studying right now is where the entirety of Irken history and knowledge is contained. It is better than your human brains and computers. It holds my personality, my tools and my intelligence.” Zim explains.

“It holds all that information? You know the entire history of your race?” Asked an astonished Membrane.

“Several thousands of years of knowledge and more, regarding some other races and planets.” Zim didn’t think that Professor Membrane would focus on that, he thought he’d be held up on this conquering Earth thing he spewed out.

“Can you take up more information in your Pak?” The inquiries were calm, rational. As if Professor Membrane was doing a survey.

“Our Paks were designed to hold at least 1 billion years of storage.” That is a fact that still makes Zim proud of being an Irken, not many races can brag about having so much storage space.

In the scheme of things, 1 billion years is nothing compared to the expected lifespan of the universe, but it is more than enough for effervescent species like humans and Irkens.

Professor Membrane does the unexpected once again, he hugged Zim fiercely, ecstatically. Zim looked behind him, the stoicism of his prosthetic is nowhere to be found, an absurdly large grin was present on his face.

Was this a trap? His grin reminded Zim of the times Dib would smile before doing something horrible to Zim or before promising to do something horrible. That manic glint in Professor Membrane’s cyber eyes was heightened with the rapid closing and opening of his shutters, like a camera taking pictures.

Zim expected shock, Zim expected denial, Zim expected hatred or even understanding if things were more positive. But this elated expression on his lover’s face was something Zim did not expect. It was like he actually got the twelve cases of Uranium-38 from Santa on Christmas.

“Thank you Zim, I believe you. Without you I would’ve never had this chance.” Professor Membrane finally spoke out.

“What?” Zim asked.

“You’re amazing, Zim. Special. I’ll never regret meeting you.” The Professor was stroking his antenna in an overly possessive manner. This aggressive petting was something Professor Membrane never did. If Zim had any sensation on his one special, not defective, antenna, he’d be blushing from head to toe.

This really makes Zim wonder if Professor Membrane is planning to study his insides and dump him in a laboratory to be studied. But this time, Zim is prepared. He’ll face all sorts of tests, as long as he can stay by the Professor’s side.

This sort of devotion was only ever reserved for the Tallest though but they’re gone, possibly forever and the only leader Zim wants to have is Professor Membrane.

“Love-pig, I give you permission to use my body in whatever way you want.”

Zim accepted his fate, he willingly gives himself up for experimentation. He tries to break free from Professor Membrane’s vice grip to face him. It’s hard to have this discussion with his back against Professor Membrane’s chest.

The Professor paused his ministrations. Zim feels a sudden spike in Professor Membrane’s heartbeat and temperature.

“Zim, what do you think I’ll be doing with you?” The Professor is bashful. He doesn’t want any more misunderstandings between them.

“Aren’t you going to strap me on a table and use your various tools on me?” Zim was puzzled.

Professor Membrane still looks at Zim confusedly.

“I’ll let you cut me up but I’ll tell you where it’s safe to cut open because I still enjoy living and I expect to remain alive in your care until you can’t learn anything more from me. But don’t think it’ll be a short study! I am much more knowledgeable than you. I know more… knowledge!! than you. Things you humans can’t even begin to imagine!” He made his peace.

“Oh. NO! No Zim. I would never experiment on you like that!”

Professor Membrane’s outcry was unexpected.

“You’re more than anything I could ever dream of. You’re the answer to my loneliness.”

Was that it? Was Professor Membrane simply impressed with Zim’s true self? Was he in awe of Zim? The Professor might have reacted the same way if he met any other Irkens but it doesn’t matter to Zim. It is Zim Professor Membrane is reacting to, and not anyone else.

“Yup! Zim is the best! Too bad you’re a pitiful human and not a superior Irken.” Zim is back to his confident self.

“Let me apologize Zim. Please forgive me. I know you told me to trust you, but I haven’t been completely truthful.”

The Professor shrinks into himself, he’s ashamed.

Zim is more surprised. What else could Professor Membrane be hiding? Is it something on his body? While Zim was shirtless, gloveless and bootless, Professor Membrane still has his full coat on, only with the upper part undone. It’s not fair.

“I guess I should reveal my full self as well.”

He removes his face plate again, but instead of seeing the insides of a human head, there’s a hole. A black hole. Dark in colour. Not even his eyes remained.

Zim looks in. He sees everything and nothing, he sees the beginning and the end of humanity. He’s experiencing bliss but agony as well. There is so much information being downloaded in Zim’s Pak that it’s whirring frantically, trying to compile and organize everything. It was a sight he’s never seen before. He doesn’t even know what he’s looking at to be honest.

It’s addicting. He watches the smooth black void swirl with light splotches of what appears to be stars. There are nuclear fissions happening. It was like Professor Membrane contained a small galaxy on his face, with a black hole as its centre.

If Zim were sane he’d have lost his sanity but all he could feel is delight instead of horror. His scientific side is curious, he wants to know what, why, how it’s even possible.

Zim knows he should feel terrified. He’s dealing with something other, something inhuman. Professor Membrane is no ordinary being. He is like one of those Lovecraftian gods that humans make fiction of.

“Can I touch it?” He can’t call it a face, it held too much to be a face.

“Yes, but be careful,” Professor Membrane’s voice emitted from the void.

Zim briefly wonders what happened to the modifications Professor Membrane made. He hopes they’re not gone forever, it’s another part of his lover that Zim has learnt to cherish already.

Zim reaches for Professor Membrane’s actual ‘face,’ his hand gets sucked in. Terror filled Zim as he struggles. He’s afraid he’s being sucked in to be consumed by the void. Maybe Professor Membrane will consume him after all?

Before he can be pulled towards the centre of the hole, arms surround him and he is being held in place. Today is not the day Zim dies.

“Zim! I told you to be careful!” that voice appeared again. The voice of Zim’s daydreams and fantasies. Professor Membrane is still with him. Zim forgot for a moment.

“Hah! Don’t be silly my love! Nothing can beat the Almighty Zim!!!” He’s come down from whatever kept his mind in the clouds.

While being fastened by Professor Membrane, Zim decides to reach his arm out. Self-perseverance is a trait that Zim possesses but sometimes, he just wants to act out his impulses.

He feels something squishy and wet. Zim grabbed whatever that was. When he retracted his hand, he discovers that he’s holding onto a baby octopus. He puts it back in to grab something else. A teacup filled with hot tea. Typical. This time he doesn’t put his hand back in, giving the tea to Professor Membrane.

“What’s all that inside you?” Zim asks, he shrugs off the weirdness, it’s an ordinary Tuesday for him. A turbulent Tuesday but still a Tuesday.

“The combined knowledge of mankind.” It’s uncanny hearing Professor Membrane’s voice.

“What are you anyways?” If his lover isn’t a human, then Zim could gleefully continue their relationship without feeling too much guilt.

“I still like to consider myself as a human.” That dashes Zim’s hopes but considering Professor Membrane’s credentials, he’s still proud of being able to call himself Professor Membrane’s lover.

“But a human who’s been in existence as long as mankind has been. I don’t remember my origin, if I were to imagine myself as a child, it would be how I currently am, only smaller.” It was hard for Professor Membrane to admit that he’s forgotten important parts of himself.

“Irkens are only alive for a millennia of your human time.” It hurts Zim to realize this.

He always expected that he’d outlive his partner when the time comes but it might actually be the other way around. He doesn’t want to think more on it. He wants to move away from that topic.

“Is Professor your real name?” Zim has found out that Professor is a title, like Frylord or Invader or even Tallest is. So he was confused when looking at Professor Membrane’s documents to see that Professor is written as his first name.

“I’ve been called many things throughout my existence but the name that sticks out the most is Thoth.” Professor Membrane reflects back. That was something he can remember.

“Anyways, I want to discover more and your existence made me realize that mankind has restrained my full potential.” The Professor said.

Delight fills Zim. Is Professor Membrane willing to turn his back on humanity?

“With you telling me about your extraterrestrial origin, I was able to find proof of the existence of life in other worlds. The probability always existed but I never had any concrete evidence.

And the knowledge humans collected on space is so insufficient that they don’t really tell anything. Other information, like what Dib usually talks about, can be easily considered as hoaxes, quick to exit the minds of the populace.” He continued saying.

Every dismayed admittance of the inadequacy of humans and their discoveries makes Zim happier and happier.

“There are still many things to discover, that’s why I became a scientist, mankind’s knowledge is limited and information found can easily be lost forever.” Professor Membrane concluded his little speech.

Humans really are pitiful. Zim wished he could have landed on Earth ages ago, to forge a path for faster development. Hmm. Maybe he should consider doing it now, with Professor Membrane by his side.

“You’re not keeping anymore secrets from me are you?” To count, Zim has been shocked an entirety of three times in the span of this date. He checked the time with his Pak. Two and half hours have passed. This makes for a surprise every 50 minutes.

“No more secrets, my love.” Professor Membrane places his prosthetic back on his face. Zim sees the moment the void disappears and dissipates to turn back into the fleshy opening.

“We both showed our true faces to each other.” Zim said. His trust in the Professor is absolute. They’ll never have to hide themselves ever again in each other’s presence.

“We did. I’m glad we did. Thank you Zim.” The voice came out of Professor Membrane’s mouth, where voices are supposed to come out from.

Inspecting Professor Membrane’s face prosthetic, Zim acknowledges that he loves all of Professor Membrane’s faces. His kissable lips opened to say something. Zim wants to punch himself for thinking that way.

“You’re the only one to survive seeing my true self. Everyone else died from brain hemorrhaging or lost their minds to never recover.” He said nonchalantly.

“Good! Give Zim all the praise!” Zim takes any chance he can get to be praised. “And all the kisses!! Those were nice.” Professor Membrane delivers a quick peck on the lips.

“You deserve all the kisses from me,” Professor Membrane agrees, “I had a wonderful date.”

A realization hit Zim. Date night still didn’t end. And when date night continued after dinner, it usually meant that they would be spending time tinkering and working on one thing or another.

“Let’s work on making your prosthetic move smoother. I have just the right Irken tech to show you in my other working area. You’ll love it.

I modified it of course to make it less stupid but it should give you a fully functional ugly human face with feelings. It’ll hide your beautiful insides unfortunately but that’s living on Earth for people like us.” Zim rambled on, already thinking up of different things to do.

“Does it look anything like your disguise?” Professor Membrane loves Zim but a fake goatee, a wig and contacts don’t make for a good disguise, he confessed to himself.

Oh dear. Dib was right. Zim’s disguise was bad. Dib was also right about Zim being an alien. Professor Membrane promises to himself that he’ll believe his son more from now on.

“What? Unfortunately no! All the other disguises hid way too much of my handsomeness and it would be a disservice to everyone for me to hide it!”

Zim went on a tirade, “The Earth will be even more MORE sadder and uglier if I looked exactly like you humans. Gross. Be happy you get to see my full handsomeness in my true Irken self. There are many who don’t get the opportunity that you have.”

Zim gestures to himself. He’s still half-dressed. Professor Membrane hands Zim the rest of his outfit before things turn awkward. After dressing quickly, Zim once more is leading Professor Membrane by the hands into his labs, the cooler ones with all the alien tech.

‘Zim, never change, my lover from the stars.’ Professor Membrane thinks to himself fondly, as he is being led away. His various faces may not allow for much expression but he is smiling internally, full of love.

#zim #professor membrane #zimbrane #zapmr #pmazr #fanfic #mine #happy halloween folks! #i guess this could be considered my first serious-like attempt at fanfic #my regret is immeasurable

[megalony]

Daisies- Part 1

This is a new Roger Taylor series which I am working on, I hope everyone will like it.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr @luvborhap @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6 @rogertaylors-lipgloss @sj-thefan @omgitsearly @luckytrashgooprebel @scarsout @deaky-with-a-c @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac @vousmemanqueez

Roger Taylor masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) is in a relationship with Roger but starts to worry when he begins to get deliveries of flowers but won’t tell her why they are significant or who is sending them. (Y/n) is sure they have something to do with his daughter, Daisy. But they’re just flowers, right?

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

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A shiver tingled up (Y/n)'s foot, travelling along her leg and up from the base of her spine right to the roots of her hair. It caused her body to shudder as she didn't want to open her eyes just yet. Every time (Y/n) seemed to close her eyes on a Monday night, the moment her eyes flicked it was suddenly Tuesday morning meaning she was that bit closer to having to leave.

Well, she didn't exactly have to leave, but what fun was staying in a big house like this all on her own?

On a Monday, (Y/n) would pick Daisy up from school, head back to Roger's house and spend the night with the two of them. Last night had been one that seemed to speed by so quickly that (Y/n) blinked and then woke up to the morning light creeping through the curtains. She hated nights like that, nights were it felt like time had stopped around her and Roger but the moment they finally went to sleep- which admittedly was too late last night- they woke up and parted.

Every night that (Y/n) spent at Roger's this past month seemed to go the same way. Amazing nights with him and Daisy, stolen kisses in the morning before parting ways for work and then repeat. The band were getting the album finished up now and that meant studio hours were here, there and everywhere. Then there would be a few weeks for the album to hit the charts and then boom, on tour they go. (Y/n) knew this was Roger's job and he loved what he did but it tended to steal days and even months of his life without his knowledge. Days whizzed past and Roger didn't realise until they had passed and he could no longer get back that time. But he never seemed too fussed about it, so (Y/n) tried to be the same.

Bringing a hand up to her face, (Y/n) rubbed the palm of her hand to her eyes before she slowly started to blink. Adjusting her vision to the morning light that was shining through the curtains that had been haphazardly closed last night in a rush.

A silent chuckle left (Y/n)'s lips when her head turned as much her neck would allow to the left, finding that Roger was as close to her as he could possibly manage. He had his head burrowed into the crook of her neck as (Y/n) could now feel the calm intakes of breath and the small puffs of air pushing against her neck causing her nerves to tingle like they had been set alight. His hair was stuck up in every direction that was possible, some small strands brushing against her cheek so lightly she had to strain to notice them.

Roger's arm was thrown over her chest as his own chest was half lying on her, one of his legs resting between both of hers. This was a normal occurrence in the mornings that (Y/n) stayed over. They went to sleep with a small membrane of space between them or one tucked against the other and they usually awoke laying on the other. Especially Roger, he seemed to think she was going to disappear during the night and so he tried to smother her in his sleep like this to make sure she wouldn't leave him. Not that she minded, he acted like a blanket and a very warm heating system. Except for when the covers wrapped around him and left her leg out in the cold of the morning like it now was.

Roger shifted around just a little when (Y/n) pressed her lips to his forehead before gently taking hold of his hand that was over her chest. Ever so slowly, she shuffled to the end of the bed before slipping out from underneath Roger's arm not wanting him to wake just yet when she caught sight of the clock. Roger could grasp another few minutes of sleep before his alarm went off and (Y/n) knew if she laid with him they would end up like they did a few days previous. Staying in too late ending with Daisy barging into the room to tell them to get up.

Leaning over, (Y/n) gingerly pressed her lips to Roger's before setting her feet down on the rather fluffy black carpet that had specks of white like stars in the midnight sky.

(Y/n) reached for the baby blue shirt draped over the chair from last night and pulled it over her arms, buttoning up the front before slowly and quietly making her way out of the room. (Y/n) couldn't quite believe how many rooms this house held within it when Roger first brought her here, especially since it only housed him and Daisy. Well, now it housed her as well on many occasion but it was still such a big home.

There was a long corridor at the top of the stairs that had a few adjoining corridors leading to different rooms. Daisy had a room near to Roger's but on an adjoining corridor and she had a playroom downstairs which was mainly for when she wanted to watch movies or play with her cars or dolls. There were a lot of rooms downstairs that were lounge rooms, a dining room, a vast kitchen and a rather large garden Daisy loved to run around.

Making her way over to the stairs, (Y/n) brushed her hair behind her ears as she headed downstairs, thankful none of the steps creaked as she went.

(Y/n) felt like she was walking in a daze as she padded down the hallway, following it down to the end before turning left into the kitchen. As she switched the kettle on and got two mugs from the cupboard, (Y/n) reached into a lower cupboard and grabbed a sachet of cocoa powder for Daisy. In the cold weather like today the four-year-old loved a hot chocolate, especially in the mornings. She also preferred her drinks in her plastic cups that held flowers or fruit on them. They were her 'special cups'.

Just as (Y/n) added the milk to the three drinks she was preparing, her head turned as she set down the carton. She knew what it sounded like to have someone knock on the front door or for the door to be slammed shut. What she heard wasn't someone slamming the door shut as all three of them were already inside the house and no one would be turning up this early. But it didn't sound like someone was knocking on the door either, more like someone had clashed against the door or tapped against it by mistake. Either way, there was someone at the front door.

"Can't be the post, surely." (Y/n) mumbled to herself as she felt herself waking up a little more. Her bare feet rapped against the cold tiles of the kitchen floor before padding on the rather bouncy fluffy hazel carpet of the hallway.

There was no post hanging in the letterbox or laying on the floor meaning no post had come, especially since it was almost seven in the morning which was far too early for the postman around here. As (Y/n) reached the door, she leaned her head to the right to look out the small, rectangular window, wondering if she could see if someone was there or walking away. She saw no one walking down the path, but considering the time it took her to slowly walk from the kitchen to the front door they could easily have turned the corner and followed the path away out of sight.

Something did catch her eye however, on the porch step.

Reaching her hand out to the hooks on the wall, (Y/n) grabbed Roger's set of keys and picked out the one for the front door. Twisting the silver metal until the chime sounded. Her hand wrapped around the slightly murky golden handle of the door as she slowly opened the dark brown oak.

Daisies.

A reasonably sized bouquet of daisies was laid very neatly on their side on the middle of the porch step.

Leaning her head to the side in curiosity, (Y/n) bent down to her knees so she could reach for the bouquet. Her eyes taking in just how white some of the daisies were as if their petals had been polished especially for this occasion. The yellow of the nectar in the middle of each one was like a small speckled sun gleaming in the orange bask of the morning light. (Y/n) couldn't see how many daisies there were that she was holding, but she found something very odd about them.

Right in the centre of the many small and large white daisies, were four pink ones. Not an uncommon colour for a daisy but to have four very specifically placed in the centre of them all was odd. The outer rim of those petals were burnt pink but as they got closer to the centre, they faded as if they had been watered down to a very pale blushing pink.

Daisy.

She was four now. Could it be a coincidence or were these flowers here for her? She was a fan of pink- although she preferred emerald- she was now four and she loved daisies due to her name. Especially since Roger had often told her that the flowers were named a daisy after her. Obviously, that was a white lie but it was one that made his daughter smile and giggle as if he head reached into the sky and taken a star for her.

"Who's here at seven in the morning?" Roger's gravely morning voice flooded the quietness of the hallway as he descended down the stairs in just his black boxers.

Snapping out of her trance-like state, (Y/n) stood back to her full height and closed the door. Her eyes glued to the four daisies in the middle of the bouquet as she wondered who they were from before smiling at wondering how Daisy would react to them.

"Delivery, I didn't catch whoever left them though. Are they for Daisy?" (Y/n) spoke softly, her smile puffing out her cheeks as she turned around to face Roger. But her smile quickly flopped at the corners, pulling into a frown when she watched her boyfriend's attitude change. Roger stopped on the third step from the bottom, his left hand gripping the bannister with such force his knuckles almost broke through his skin. His eyes left her to look at the flowers in her grasp that were wrapped in a lovely deep purple paper.

Roger seemed to stare at the flowers as if (Y/n) had brought a gun into the house and was showing it to him. They were just flowers, why was he so upset about them?

"No."

(Y/n) wasn't sure if Roger was telling her they were not for Daisy or if he was simply stating that he didn't want them here in the house. She had no time to question him as to what he meant before he was suddenly standing in front of her, descending the stairs so quickly she almost didn't see him moving. It was clear he was trying so hard not to lash out and hit something or even throw the flowers but he wasn't quite managing to stay calm.

Roger grabbed the stem of the flowers and ripped them from (Y/n)'s hands, his eyes burning like a blue electric fire that looked as if it could burn the flowers to ash and dust in a matter of seconds. He scanned the bouquet with somewhat annoyance, turning it this way and that before he stuffed his hand into the plastic wrapping and roughly pulled out a white piece of card. He didn't bother to read what it said before he looked down, seemingly realising he was not wearing his jeans.

"What's wrong?" (Y/n) reached a hand out but Roger was moving before she knew it as soon as he heard the small pattering of feet coming to the stairs indicating Daisy was now up.

The drummer stuffed the card in the side of his boxers right where the pocket would be on his jeans as he speeded in record time down the hallway to the kitchen. (Y/n) glanced up at the stairs before hurrying after Roger, not knowing what he was up to or what was wrong with him. Why was he so pissed at getting some flowers? He didn't read the card meaning he knew exactly who had sent them and that implied that he had gotten a delivery of flowers like this before.

"Roger what are you doing?" (Y/n) hissed when he stormed out the back door barefooted, opening the lid of the recycling bin so that he could stuff the flowers in with the trash and rubbish.

Surely they were for Daisy, why would someone send Roger flowers? They were the flowers Daisy was named after and they had four different coloured ones for her age, surely this was not a coincidence. (Y/n) reached out for Roger when he walked back into the kitchen, slamming the door behind him as his chest heaved violently as if he had just run a marathon.

"It's someone's idea of a joke. Please, just forget about it."

Normally it would have been in (Y/n)'s nature to challenge the drummer, to pursue this and ask him why someone would send him flowers for a joke and why he despised this so much. But today she couldn't. Roger seemed so serious, so worried and angered and upset. He clearly knew something she didn't and maybe that was how he wanted it to stay. It wasn't as if someone had sent threatening letters, they had only sent some flowers. (Y/n) could ignore this, at least for now.

As if someone had changed a record, Roger snapped from being angered yet worried to having a broad smile on his lips. His muscles losing the tension they held before as he crouched down to pick up the little girl barrelling over to him at full pelt. Daisy squealed happily when she was in Roger's arms, leaning so she could kiss his cheek as he spun her around looking as if he had not just been about to blow a fuse seconds before.

Roger's eyes glanced over to (Y/n) once he had settled Daisy on his hip, his daughter's head resting on his chest as he tried to smile at his girlfriend. But his smile didn't reach his eyes.

#roger taylor #roger taylor imagine #roger x reader #imagine #queen band #freddie mercury #john deacon #Brian May #Single Dad #dad! roger #daisies

[bananapie99]

More Than Words

Spencer x Reader

*****************************************************************************************************Your world had been this way your whole life, silent. When you were born, the three small bones in your ears, the malleus, incus, and stapes, were not properly formed. This meant that the vibrations produced by sound waves did not travel across your tympanic membrane and the bones did not move, so to be blunt, you were deaf. You grew used to the looks of sympathy from friends and strangers alike as they found out you were deaf. It got old. You never saw your deafness as a problem, it was just part of your identity. Nonetheless, the sad glances and uncomfortableness of other people struggling to try to communicate with you persisted. That was, until you met Spencer.

Spencer was different. He was very handsome but not in the traditional way. He was literally a genius. But what stood out the most was how he looked at you. It was never sympathetic or sad, at least not in regards to your deafness. His soft brown eyes looked at you the way you always wished someone would, with a gleam of happiness and love. Even when you first met. You had quite literally run into him. You had been hurrying across campus at Gallaudet, looking at your phone, facetiming your best friend. Suddenly, you crashed into something and started to stumble backwards. But you never fell, two hands reached out to steady you. You looked up and saw those eyes, deep in thought and with a mix of concern. And his hair… a messy mop of brown curls that were just starting to graze his shoulders. Then you noticed his mouth was moving, faster than you were used to seeing people talk. Growing up you tried to learn to read lips, but it’s hard and you relied heavily on sign language or writing. Spencer’s lips were near impossible to read, words passing off them quickly and bleeding together. You tried to pull yourself together and signed to him that you were deaf. You tried to speak it, but you knew your voice was hard for most people to understand. Spencer looked at you, a slight look of confusion passed through his eyes, but then it was your turn to be confused. He started signing. You couldn’t believe it. He was asking if you were okay, apologizing for not seeing you. He insisted on buying you coffee to make up for it. You were still in a slight shock, but you nodded and followed him to his favorite coffee shop around the corner.

And the rest is history.

Two years later, Spencer and you were going strong. You had just officially moved into his apartment last week and were now getting settled. The life you were building with Spencer felt absolutely magical. His eyes never changed, they were as full of love today as ever, that gleam still there. This morning you woke up in bed facing Spencer and you were happy those beautiful brown eyes staring at you were the first thing you saw. Spencer mouthed I love you and you couldn’t help but grin as you mouthed back I love you too. Since dating you, he started talking slower when you were around. He did always use sign language to communicate, but in the little moments, or when his hands were not visible, he would do his best to make sure you could easily understand him. After staying in bed for a while, enjoying a lazy morning of cuddles, both of you decided it was time to get up and face the day. While you were doing your hair and makeup, Spencer would pepper you with kisses any time he walked past, filling you with happiness.

******************************************************************************

Taking your hand in his and smiling back at you, Spencer stepped off the metro and led the way to the movie theater. This afternoon they were showing his favorite Russian film with English subtitles. It was a perfect date for the two of you. At the theater Spencer paid for your tickets, then you got in line for popcorn. Spencer told you he would be right back, kissed the top of your head, and he ran to the bathroom. As you stood in line, you just watched the people around you, making up little dialogues and trying not to laugh when one seemed extra funny.

Suddenly you felt someone’s back against your own and an arm wrapped back around you protectively. You recognized the hand as Spencer’s and turned around, confused.

SPENCER’S POV

Spencer just finished drying his hands and started walking back towards (Y/N), when he heard a man’s voice, sounding quite agitated.

“What’s your problem?” he almost growled. “Think you’re too good for me sweetheart? Hey! Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

His heart sunk as he turned the corner, but the feeling was immediately replaced by anger. He was talking to (Y/N), who had no clue this man was trying to talk to her and getting so upset. Spencer rushes towards them before things can escalate any further. He slid between them, pressing his back against hers and wrapping his left arm around her, just as the man extends his hand to grab at (Y/N). Instead, he gets Spencer.

“Back off,” Spencer tells him, anger evident in his voice.

The man doesn’t want to back down and he challenges Spencer.

“What’s her deal? Scared to handle herself?”

At this point (Y/N) turned around to see what is happening and Spencer turns to hug her, ignoring the other man. (Y/N) looks up at him confused, and Spencer beings signing to her, explaining the situation. He watches the color drain from (Y/N)’s face and he wraps his arms around her tightly, letting her know everything is okay.

The man must have begun to understand the situation, because suddenly he was just gone. Spencer and (Y/N) were next in line now. They bought their popcorn and found their theater, sitting in the back row, corner closest to the exit, where (Y/N) likes to sit. She was obviously shaken and so was Spencer, so he spent the movie with his arm around her, running his other hand over her back and playing with her hair, the way he knew helped her relax.

READER’S POV

The movie ended, and you were starting to feel calm again. Spencer squeezed your hand tightly as you left the theater. You had planned to go out to dinner after the movie, but both of you just wanted to be home at this point. You were lost in your head the entire metro ride back to your apartment. When you got inside and Spencer locked the door, he looked at you with concern. You realized his hands were moving and you snapped out of your daze, looking up at him.

Are you okay?

I’m fine Spencer. Don’t worry about it.

You know I can’t do that sweetheart. That was a scary moment, it’s okay if you’re not okay.

Spencer I’m fine… Your eyes betrayed you as you felt a hot tear begin to roll down your cheek.

He closed the distance between you two and wrapped his arms around you, holding you tighter than ever before, trying to put all of his love into one moment. You felt safe in his arms. You felt at home. You knew Spencer would always look out for you and protect you the best he could. You also knew he didn’t think you were helpless. He wanted to protect you and defend you because he loved you that much. He would be devastated if something happened to you. Having an FBI agent watching your back couldn’t be a bad thing. You looked up at Spencer and mouthed I love you. He responded with a kiss that told you more than words or signs ever could.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid imagine #dr spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfic #cm

[ninemoons42-lestallumhaven]

(for @wildixia​, to carry on with colors of us. and thanks to @itsalwaysbloodmagic​ for giving me the idea to do a day in the life of Ignis.)

Quick Fic Pick 59: colorway

“Early today,” he murmurs, and he reaches into one of the cabinets in the corner of the room. Cleansing wipes, scentless, soft white material that he uses to scrub the chair in its oddly intricate frame of metalwork and leather cushions, and he pulls it out into the proper configuration to accommodate this morning’s first appointment. Wide seat, and a U-shaped cushion to lean forward into, and the girl who seats herself in the chair sheds her dark-blue shirt, no shiver of apprehension in her movements.

Wide line of the bandeau around her chest, that exposes her shoulders to him and the lines of his work in progress. Letters in a faux-handwritten font, spill of verses onto dark-brown skin, and it’s not her first tattoo, and the poetry seems to complement the raven in its full-throated cry, silent and vigilant where it occupies the meat of her left upper arm: Although the wind blows terribly here, the moonlight also leaks between the roof planks of this ruined house.

The line is a half-complete sketch of outlines and line variation and the little flourishes to imitate the girl’s actual handwriting; he’s still surprised he got to the end of the line in one single session, and, he remembers, so had the girl.

Second session, today, and he’s thinking about doing all the shading if he can -- and if not, he’ll settle for the important words in the verse. Wind and moonlight and house, and the rest of the words in simpler strokes.

So he scrubs his hands and his chosen tools clean, and puts on a pair of gloves, and only after he’s ready does he lean toward the girl and ask, gently, “Will you need a moment?”

“I’m good,” the girl says, the words only a little muffled by the leather of the chair. “I took your advice. Two extra-strength paracetamol before I got here.”

“Then let’s begin.”

Ink bottles in a handful of bright shades. The quiet well-maintained whine of the tattoo machine. It’s easy to correct for the first time the girl flinches, the first contact of needles against skin; and after the third flinch she stops moving. Falls into the quiet euphoria that he knows only too well, that he half-craves even as he causes her to drift in it.

Movement out of the corners of his eyes: Nyx, the beads in his braids and the paper bags in his hands announcing his presence; and the silent shadow of Cor. Between the three of them they own the shop free and clear, and he’s often grateful for the fact that they haven’t all tried to kill each other in this business partnership -- as grateful as he is that they’ve become his friends, which is really more than he can say when they’d been total strangers to him on the first meeting.

He gets as far as the word ruined before the girl holds up both hands and says, softly, “It’s too much.”

Hands in his peripheral vision before he can sit up straight, hands moving past him to offer the girl a box of fruit juice with the straw already stuck into the top, and a bright-green gel capsule. “Slowly.” The voice of Cor, low and commanding. “Drink before you take the painkiller.”

“Thank you.”

Ignis braces himself on the table on which the tattoo machine is mounted, and his knees creak warningly as he gets to his feet, as he crosses back into the inner room of the shop and Nyx is trying to eat a carton of noodles with his chopsticks in the wrong hand, because he’s also trying to scroll through something on his smartphone and Ignis rolls his eyes and accepts the offer of a jam doughnut with grace.

“That’s yours for the day, right? No one else coming in?” Nyx says, after a moment. “It’s your month to do the books.”

“They’re half-done already, I’m just going to check the math.” He licks at the corner of his mouth, chasing a blob of blueberry jam before it drips off onto his shirt. “And then I’ve got that commission to work on.”

“New? When did it come in?”

“Two weeks ago. Gladio’s friend’s boyfriend.”

“Complicated,” he hears Nyx snicker.

Cor passes him a small envelope in red-and-gold paper. “Tip.”

Ignis waves it away. “Put it in common cash.”

“Must be nice to have a very rich boyfriend,” and Cor is chuckling, openly, as he chooses a doughnut from the box on the table.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Mr We’re-Not-Idle-Rich,” he snorts, and goes to make himself a cup of tea, taking the carton of milk from the small refrigerator behind the desk to do so.

He responds to their middle-finger salutes in kind once he’s freed up both of his hands, and keeps on laughing even as he settles down with the shop laptop to look through the month’s cash and expenses.

Cor rises from the table after another half-hour or so, and Ignis feels rather than hears the thump of the music that arises from their shared workroom, and he shrugs back when Nyx says, “That guy on the afternoon soap opera. TV actor somebody.”

He sweeps the remains of breakfast away when Nyx leaves. Now he can spread his things out over the table, and he pulls out his sketchbooks and the battered roll-up case in which he keeps his pens and pencils, and he forgets to think about time, about the cramped desk, about the bass-beat of Cor’s music, as he fills page after page with detailed landscapes. Sea-views, and mountain ranges in their crooked peaks, and the intricate skylines of cities that have never existed except in the back of his mind: they’re good practice, he thinks, as he gradually switches from skyscraper-forms to -- wings.

Dragon-wings of membrane and claw and the bones shaped like wicked-edged mutations of his own hand. Bird-feathers in flocks and flight-paths. After a moment he switches to a fresh page, and for some reason he thinks about circuitry, about labyrinths made in solder and right angles, and -- then he blinks and the page is sporting a pair of angel-wing shapes made from the inner workings of a computer, or of his smartphone, and -- the only consideration is to check to see if he hasn’t inadvertently been too inspired by the art of some of his favorite creators.

He’s still scrolling through some of his bookmarked galleries when he hears and feels the step coming closer, the weight that makes the floor creak in warning, and he’s half-expecting Cor --

Subdued paisley in the lining of a suit jacket, multitude of reds hidden in sober navy-blue, and he blinks, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, and the person sitting next to him, sunglasses and long hair and the smell of summer-river flow on the move, is still Gladiolus -- who smiles at him, and says in a very low voice, “Sorry. Don’t let me disturb you.”

“What are you doing here?” But even as he says it he knows he’s reaching for another lead holder, and he’s starting on another series of circuit boards.

“Playing hooky. Only not really. I’m working, I’m just not at the office.”

“By coming into mine,” he teases, and he chuckles, sticks his tongue out at the paper he’s sketching on, when Gladiolus laughs softly.

“Yeah.”

“Carry on then,” he says, and the diagram-like sketch beneath his hands turns into something like the shape of a flightless bird, something that makes him think of racing over hilly terrain, of fording rough swollen rivers.

“That the thing Prompto said he was looking into?”

“I don’t know yet. I imagine I’ll find out when you do,” he says, and he’s not really thinking any more. He’s letting his hands do the work. Letting his mind range freely: and Gladiolus hums next to him, and he’s a warm solid presence, anchoring him here.

He doesn’t even have the heart to pretend to be annoyed when Nyx walks back in and laughs, finding him sitting back-to-back with Gladiolus, the two of them working quietly, in opposite directions, together.

#colors of us AU #wildixia #itsalwaysbloodmagic #pairing: gladnis #pairing: nyxcor #Character: Nyx Ulric #Character: Cor Leonis #fic: mine #quick fic pick

[gauribastian]

Things To Consider If You Are A Beginner In Implantology!

1. Know Implantology First Before Proceeding

I had seen so many young emerging dentist putting implants haphazardly without knowing much about Implantology. My sincere advice to them is to please go through proper protocol and learning before jumping into it. It is not only procedure but it is a science and we need to learn & understand it thoroughly if we want to achieve long term success.

Want to know best dental implant course in india visit our dental portal DentistFriend.com

2. Choose Proper Mentor or Courses

From whom you learnt Implantology is more important. Irrespective of systems and methods your mentor plays a crucial role in your learning curves. Today so many young dentists doing courses without much experience. Please choose your proper mentor who had done so many cases who can surely guide you about failures also. Don’t choose courses which are nearer to you or cheaper only.

3. Consider Implantology equal combination of Prosthesis and Implant together as a single outcome

So many people only consider placing implant is a win game. Actually once after experience of 10 years of implantology I can surely say that placing prosthetically driven implant is really challenging. So learn more about complex rather than focusing on only placing implant.

4. Do proper Exercise before placing implant

Surgical Implant placement is not the only thing, even everyone can do it. The only concerned thing is to see proper bone height, width, quality of bone, systemic conditions, angulations, inter arch distance, prosthetic outcome, overall dental hygiene, bad habits etc. Do proper exercise and you should have proper map on paper before putting implant.

5. Never Do Implant without CBCT or at least OPG

IOPA or OPG shows only bi-dimensional image and Implantology is 3D Science. So always make habits of CBCT before putting implants. If you don’t have CBCT Centre in your city than please make sure to take diagnostic casts and articulate them, if possible make RPD with marker in tooth and then go for OPG and place implant where u planned. Surgical Guide which is prosthetically driven can help you in guiding.

6. System is not that much important but Good system saves u in many places

System is not that much important as good skilled persons can place any implant of any system in a patient with a good success rate. But in initial phase good systems will help you a lot even though you made mistakes in angulations,  placements etc. Choose a system which has many prosthetic options and according to availability, their success stories, easiness, their frequent supply and proper person in your city to help you out.

7. Don’t Jump in Implantology without proper planning and protocol

Any case of implants should be done as a protocol.Starting from IOPA, OPG, CBCT, Preoperative Cast, Articulation, Proper history of Patient, System, Inter-arch Distance, Proper Blood Investigations, Pre-operative antibiotics, Physician concern if required, routing follow ups in healing phase with x rays, Transfer copings , trials and then final fixation.

8. Don’t Let your patient be judgmental in decision making in any steps of Implantology

So many times your patient will demand for immediate placement, immediate loading, less number of implants etc but don’t let them decisive. Take decisions only on your planning even if they have hurry let them decide but be firm on your planning.

9. Don’t be hurry on giving treatment Estimate on day one

Always make a habit of analyzing case with necessary history, intra-oral examinations, investigations, articulated upper and lower casts and all necessary prosthetic options like angulated or castable abutments, any screw retained or hybrid prosthesis etc… You can also discuss with you lab person before proceedings. So many times dentists give quotations on day one without knowing much and later they put themselves in troubles and they don’t earn much at the end. Don’t be hurry, take your own time to analyze everything and give quotation after all necessary planning.

10. Do surgeries with all armamentarium.

You should have all necessary equipments and material s on hand at the time of surgery. Bone grafts, membranes, exapnders, condensers etc please arrange before surgery. I had seen so many dentists search for all these during the surgery. These will reflect lack of your ability to work and patient will easily notice this too.

11. Teamwork

Teamwork is like your weak part can be corrected by a stronger substitute. Call any prosthodontist or periodontist if you want few procedures to be associated and give fantastic results.  Make a small group of interested people and do work together, they can guide in treatment planning and also in placement. Discuss regularly regarding Implantology and you will get wonderful knowledge and confidence.

12. Last but not least COST

After knowing this much you must be understood how much headache is in implantology. Don’t do it in less charge. Initially if you want to learn place few implants at less profit but don’t do charity. After few cases analyze what you are expending on cases and then charge accordingly with proper profits.

Friends, so many factors still missing, but I tried to add as much as I can.

*Implantology is future of Dentistry and this branch can easily make you millionaire provided you learn it properly and apply it with all your master skills.*

For any help you can contact me on [email protected]

Source : DentistFriend

#dentistry clinical-tips being-dentist

[megacircuit9universe]

X-Tech: Never Possible Until it is

THU JAN 02 2020

I just watched the latest video by YouTuber, Isaac Arthur, who I’ve been following for years, and greatly respect, addressing time travel, but while he tried to cover every version of time travel that comes up in science fiction, and in legit scientific discourse... he did not cover the version I talk about in this blog.

I was a bit surprised, but then again, mine (explained in the entry entitled, Time Travel Basics, and fleshed out in some follow ups shortly after it) is basically the John Titor version of time travel.

And over the 13 or so years since I first read the Titor stuff online, I’ve noticed that nobody, either in fiction, or legit discourse, ever does venture anywhere near the Titor model... which is kinda strange, given that so many other, clearly unworkable models pop up all the time.

It’s not as though the Titor model is just so ridiculous that it’s not even worth considering... because, well... plenty of very ridiculous models for time travel are given very serious consideration, in our movies and science fiction novels, if not elsewhere.

Still, the original message boards where Titor appeared, to talk about how he was a time traveler, and explain what he knew about how his military issue time distortion unit worked, were forums for physics students and physics enthusiasts.

And what always struck me reading the back and forth on those forums was that nobody ever challenged his technical explanations.  Everybody seemed to agree that the physics part of his story held up.

But that part was way over my head at the time, so I was very curious to understand why the physics seemed to hold up so well.

It took me most of those 13 years, watching recorded lectures and other videos on YouTube, and listening to several audio books on my commutes, dealing with different aspects of both quantum physics and string theory... before it finally clicked in my head, and I could see that Titor’s explanation not only squared with physics, but so did the schematics he’d provided.

Again, go back and read, Time Travel Basics, but, in a nutshell, it’s this idea of using two micro black holes... controlled by manifolds that inject electrons either into them, to increase their spin, or at angles across their event horizons, to slow the spin... to create two nested bubbles of frame-dragged spacetime, the inner one with positive time, and the outer one with negative time.

I won’t get further into it than that here, except to say that the one thing Titor talked about that always stumped me were the gravity sensors.  

Inside his two nested bubbles of spacetime, he was essentially in his own tiny universe, outside the main universe, but was able to maintain a lock on the Earth’s movements backward through time (rotating backward and revolving around the sun backward as the whole solar system revolved backward around the center of the galaxy) thanks to gravity sensors that would give feedback to the manifolds, telling them how to maneuver the two micro-singularities to stay with the GPS coordinates on Earth’s surface, from which he had departed.

I finally got my answer one morning in the car on the way to work, listening to an audio book on string theory, when the author explained how, unlike light, gravity could be felt between branes (or membranes) of space time.

It’s one possible explanation for why gravity is such a weak force on our own brane, compared to much stronger forces like electromagnetism... because gravity leaks out into the greater, “bulk,” of the multiverse.

He didn’t know it, but he’d told me that Titor’s gravity sensors could work... which was the final piece of the puzzle.

Everything else, from creating micro-singularities in particle accelerators, and capturing them magnetically, for industrial use... to manipulating their spin, mass, and attitude with a manifold of cathode rays (such manifolds were how old color tube TV sets worked)... to the nuclear powering of the device... to the many worlds theory... all passed, for being physically plausible.  So when the gravity sensors checked out too... well, that’s when I knew Titor was probably telling the truth.

So why am I so alone in this belief, in 2020... and why has the whole Titor model pretty much vanished from the conversation?

Well... this is what you might expect to happen when a person with a working model of something tries to explain it to people from the past who just aren’t there yet.

Imagine going back to the year 2000, and explaining on a serious tech forum how a typical smart phone from 2010 works... it’s a got a touch screen, and a bunch of gyros and sensors packed inside, and a lithium battery and... bla bla bla... 

Even though they are all well versed on the subject of tech, and are only about seven years away from the first smart phone... it’s likely that nobody will take your strange new idea seriously.  

Some will point out how certain features are just too far away... and the internet infrastructure couldn’t support such a thing... and the level of miniaturization isn’t realistic... and the batteries would be volatile and prone to explosions.

Others will argue that even if such a device could be Frankensteined together, nobody would want one device to do everything.  Nobody wants to watch TV shows on their alarm clock, that is also their flashlight! 

Why would they be like that?  Well... you know how people are.. when they consider themselves the experts and the vanguards of a given field.

Who are you anyway?  You’re just some rando who claims to own one of these so-called, “smart phones,” and you don’t even know how it works.  

You’re just a fanciful futurist describing some fanciful vision for a thing that would be nearly impossible to make, and totally impractical, probably, and that nobody asked for.  Get out of here!

My other example would be explaining how a modern airplane works, to scientists in... say... 1875.  Even if you were spot on with your description of a typical 737... with its wings, aelerons, flaps, jets, etc... its hydraulic control tubes and its aluminum body... fueled by a petroleum based liquid stored in its wings...

They would counter by explaining to you why none of that would actually work, and even if it could... nobody would ever convince a hundred regular civilians to climb into such a death trap and “fly” from New York to Los Angeles... in “hours.”

Get the fuck out of here!

My argument here, about experts and vanguards rejecting working ideas from the future... is kind of borne out by how far off the mark they always are, when asked to envision future tech.

Such visions are always hilariously wrong, because they are always clearly based on exactly what they know in the moment... plus what little they know about a few experimental things going on.  

But they never think about the unforeseen breakthroughs, both large and small, that can help make seemingly ridiculous things like the Boeing 737, or the IPhone 4, possible, practical, and marketable.

The above two analogies are not perfect though, because in John Titor’s case, he was in the military, using a military issue time machine.  It wasn’t a tech civilians even knew about, necessarily... and also, as I said earlier, there really wasn’t any push back from the nerds on his forums about the physics.  

They agreed it was theoretically sound enough not to bother attacking, and instead focused on his descriptions of the future... his past... all the world events to come later in the 2000s, 20-teens, and beyond.

And, while he answered honestly, he also explained that his appearance in 2000 meant they were all now on a different world line, that would not play out the same way.

His recollections were framed as predictions... and when the predictions didn’t come to pass... Titor was considered by most, debunked.

Some argued for a while... correctly, that they were never predictions, because he explained that we were on a different world line than his.  But... others countered, by pointing out how this argument makes his predictions unfalsifiable... which, in logical terms, means they’re garbage.

The whole discussion ended there... without ever really touching the mainstream consciousness.  John Titor was considered, by those who knew about him, to be just a fun hoax... and, like any other meme... fell out of fashion and was forgotten.

But my point is... he had schematics!  He had sound explanations for how the tech worked!  Screw the predictions... or arguments that the predictions are unfalsifiable!  The tech holds up!  Look at that!  Talk about that!

Look at the rather flawless descriptions of how it came to be invented, what it was being used for, and what it was like to operate a time distortion unit, from the perspective of the guy in the driver’s seat.  

It really irks me that everybody has both ignored and forgotten about that very tangible, testable part of Titor’s story... and then come back today with those same tired old arguments like, “If time travel were possible, we would have heard from one of them by now!”

Oh, really?

“If it were possible, we would have time tourists all over the place, and always would have, since Ancient Rome.”

Really?  Cuz... what if it was just a military tech not available to the public and what if it only had a small practical range of a few decades... as explained both by Titor, and by my Time Travel Basics entry?  Huh?

Huh???

Well... I guess I’m just gonna have to be content with being a crackpot, with no audience. :(

Be that as it may, my  model predicts that WW2 is the great historical barrier for time travel... with only a few rogue time travelers daring to go even as far back as the late 1940s... where they could still hope to refill their oxygen tanks, and get some kind of crude repairs done to their time distortion units.

Most only go as far back as the mid 1970s, with a few outliers hitting the 60s or 50s, and probably never finding their way back to anything like the home worldline they came from, after straying that far afield with no way to establish their, “divergence” to any useful degree.

But the twenty-teens were (are, will be) a good pit stop... the Denver, or Phoenix of Time Travel... if it were a coast to coast drive across the U.S... because things were (are, will be) just advanced enough to stop and get your bearings, or resupply, or get repairs done... but far enough away from the home time (which is the late 2030s) to bother stopping.

It’s possible that the 2020s will be the same kind of Denver for time travelers of, say, the 2050s... and that the 2030s themselves will be a Denver for time travelers of the 2080s... but if so... these more sophisticated time travelers from further in the future will probably be a lot more careful about the cybernetic impact of their pit stops in these future decades.

In other words, they’ll be more careful not to turn the internet, and therefore the world around them, into a total circus of unreality, in which all the locals question their sanity every day on a regular basis.

Things should calm down for us, in the 2020s, is what I’m saying... at least in the socio-political sphere.  The climate’s gonna be something different, but...

...whereas in the twenty-teens you were saying, “I can’t believe so and so is the leader of my country and so many assholes are coming out of the woodwork, and the rest of us feel unmoored from reality, as if we’ve been sucked into a parallel universe!”

In the 2020s you’re more likely to be saying, “I can’t believe we had a thunder snowphoon in July, and that Lake Eerie is on fire, but thank God the world’s leaders are on top of this, and have the support of pretty much everybody, except for the oldest, shittiest cranks who we all ignore.”

And maybe you’ll also be saying, “Thank God, also for [X-tech] without which everybody would be so fucked right now!”

Man, that was a long ramble!

Sorry.

I’m going to bed.

[thefinalcinderella]

DIVE!! Book 1 Chapter 9-UNEXPECTED TWIST

we all knew this was coming

also apparently the thing that occurred in this chapter doesn’t actually really happen until next episode so now I feel dumb

Full list of translations here

Previously on DIVE!!: Boy Hiroya and Miu on a camping trip together isn’t ominous at all. Also I love Shibuki

He didn’t know what triggered it. Just like how he didn’t know why he kept failing, Tomoki didn’t know how he had succeeded. Even if he said that it was all due to his hard work, it felt like it wasn’t just because of that.

Before, Tomoki believed in Edison’s saying that “genius is one percent inspiration and ninety-nine percent perspiration”, but indeed, in order to challenge the limits of human ability to the furthest, he now felt that some sort of chance action that transcended his own power was necessary to have. Just a little body deviation. The angle of his chin. A momentary wind. When several chance actions perfectly overlapped each other, people could do things that they thought were impossible before.

Tomoki finally did it as the overcast rainy season sky continued to stretch into early July. A light rain fell beneath the dark, cloudy sky.

This is it! In the next moment where he was convinced of that, though his body was quickly submerging into the water, his heart was soaring high up into the heavens.

It was far from a perfect performance. He overdid his entry, and his splashes went everywhere and were too high. His somersault form was all over the place, and his knees were awkwardly parted. But, before he achieved the 3½, was he in one piece? The water was gentler than usual, and the embrace of the smooth membrane made Tomoki’s chest hot. Even though his wet skin was tormented by the cold wind when he got out of the water, it still felt hot.

The world was silent, like he had pressed the “mute” button. Actually, he was surrounded by loud sounds, but they did not reach the ears of Tomoki, who was bathed in the afterglow of success.

First of all, there were cheers coming from Kayoko. Her long legs seemed to have gotten tangled to each other as she ran to him and shouting exclamations in a mix of English and Japanese, and suddenly hugged him. Coach Fujitani and his clubmates picked up on the commotion, and they all congratulated him. They knew how many times Tomoki had failed, and knew the importance of success. Some of them, like Ryou, glared at him with open hostility, but Reiji walked towards Tomoki himself and said, “You did it”, then extended his right hand. He chewed on his lip a bit like he was frustrated. Tomoki clasped that palm happily, knowing that frustration very well.

Then, Tomoki went home with an unexpected feeling of happiness, and played over his successful performance of the 3½ in his head all night long without sleeping that night.

He wanted to burn the memory firmly into his mind before it faded. He felt like it would slip from the spaces between his skin if he was not careful, so he tried to confine it within him.

3½ somersaults.

One more revolution than usual.

One more turn around the Earth—

Tomoki’s tremendous advancement began the next day. As soon as he had succeeded once, Tomoki rode the wave of his previous failures as though they were unreal, and day by day he increased the success rate of the 3½. Some flexibility was created for his performance, and he came to be able to address specific requests about his form and entry. It was around this time that Kayoko’s expression changed, as before she had thought that it would be next to impossible to finish up the 3½ in time for the qualifying trials.

“It looks like you’ll make in time for the qualifying trials. No, on the contrary, you might be able to make it into the shortlist for the training camp members.”

As soon as going to Beijing was no longer a dream, there was a clear change in Tomoki’s heart. He was anxious to participate in the training camp that he had given up on from the start because it had been impossible for him.

The highest-level training camp where the top juniors in Asia gather.

Being taught by a veteran Chinese coach.

The first step to the next Olympics.

He wanted to grab that opportunity with his hands…

This ambition budded inside Tomoki. It brought forth never-seen-before intensity and vigor to him. Because Ryou and Reiji were stagnating from being overambitious, and Shibuki was still clashing with Kayoko and became isolated, Tomoki was therefore the only one steadily building up the strength to chase after Youichi. Everyone was amazed by this last spurt that accelerated day by day.

Three days left.

If only that thing didn’t occur, Tomoki could have continued his pursuit of the qualifying trials in the three days before they took place.

As usual, it was an unstable day where the rainy season sky lingered. During summer vacation, Tomoki finished his breakfast at home and immediately hurried to the Sakuragi High pool. When he was in good condition, he also had an agile body to go to practice with. Let the rain fall and the wind blow. He wouldn’t feel any pain at all.

However, on the other hand, if the weather turned bad, the risk for accidents happening would be severely increased. Coach Fujitani cut practice short past two o’clock when the rain did not let up at all.

While enduring the heavy weight of the rain violently striking his umbrella, Tomoki was soaked to the bone by the time he returned home after three. No one answered the door when he rang the doorbell, so he used his key to open the door, and noticed a pair of unfamiliar sneakers. They had red shoelaces and belonged to a girl. In the umbrella stand, there was also a pink umbrella that dripped with raindrops.

He turned his head to see if anyone was coming as he went to the living room, where on the dining table a note read, “I’ll be back around six. Mom”. So that meant that the person in his house wasn’t Megumi’s guest.

Tomoki left the living room, and was heading for his room upstairs briefly to leave his bag there. “Hey, Hiro, you there?” he called out.

There was no reply. But, there were signs. Tomoki’s room was next to Hiroya’s. There was someone there.

“Hey, Hiro, if you’re here you should just say so.”

When Tomoki got upstairs, Hiroya finally emerged from his room.

“What’s up, Tomo, aren’t you early? What happened?”

“The rain. Who’s here?”

Hiroya closed the door to his room as if he was hiding something, and abruptly started laughing, even though there was nothing funny.

“No, no one at all. But Tomo, what really happened today, coming back at such a funny time?”

“It’s the rain. Who’s here?”

“I told you, no one.”

“But, there’s a pair of shoes and an umbrella.”

“They’re nothing, so don’t worry about it.”

“Don’t worry about it…no way, did you bring over a girlfriend?”

To his half-joking question, Hiroya smiled a strange half-smile and did not speak.

“Wait, really?”

Tomoki gaped at him for moment, then laughed hysterically. Being unfamiliar with sexy stories, his sixth sense had functioned unusually well, and it was nice to have Hiroya to be at a loss for words for once.

“What. Well then, don’t hide her and introduce her to me!”

While laughing, he placed his hand on Hiroya’s door. He wasn’t really that serious about opening it. He was just teasing. However, Hiroya fiercely blocked him and was completely serious.

“Stop!”

Pushing away his hand with all of his strength, Tomoki looked at Hiroya with a start as he stood in front of his room to block him with a desperate look on his face. He had the same expression from when he was little, when he stood firm at the water’s edge to protect the sandcastle that he had finally finished. It had been a long time since he saw Hiroya looking so serious. That seriousness caused a small alarm to go off in Tomoki’s head.

Tomoki stared at Hiroya’s face intently. The more he looked at it, the more his unease spread. Hiroya looked like he was about to cry and covered up his eyes as though he was exhausted. Tomoki also looked away, then faced the door again.

“Is it Miu?”

No way, he murmured in his head. Hiroya looked at his feet and did not deny or confirm it.

No way. No way. No way. Tomoki gripped the doorknob with his fingertips that were bright red with blood. Hiroya no longer stopped him. Turning the knob with a click, the door moved.

Tomoki scanned the room, and quietly understood. Seeing Miu crying as she hugged her knees in a corner of the room, curled up like a folding umbrella, told him everything without anything being said.

Miu kept crying, and kept on crying until it looked like she was about to dry up, and all that was left was the sound of sniffling. Hiroya, who couldn’t watch any longer, hugged her shoulders and escorted her out of his room. Tomoki, who had never held hands with her, much less held her shoulders, could only stand there, stunned, as he listened to the footsteps of the two fading, and the indications that they went out the front door.

His head wasn’t working right. He couldn’t control his heart. He didn’t even know why he was so shocked himself.

Tomoki went back to his room and curled up on his bed. Even though the doorbell rang and Hiroya came back, he continued to stay as stiff as a corpse. As time passed, his mother returned, and then his father, and before long the call to dinner was sounded. Tomoki still did not move. The world lost its sound. Its colors and sounds were also gone. It was the silence of the bottom of the ocean, far deeper and more distant than the diving pool.

A pebble was cast into the ocean at nine o’clock at night. Tomoki heard a knock on his door, which then opened without his permission.

“Tomo, are you sleeping?”

It was Hiroya.

Tomoki, who normally fell asleep within three minutes of entering his futon, was half surprised that he wasn’t already asleep, and half regretting that he wasn’t sleeping as he sat up in bed.

Hiroya sat on the chair in front of his study desk, and faced him with an oddly strained face. It was an unfunny expression that looked as though he was either going to break down in tears or get angry at any second. However, Hiroya didn’t cry or get mad, and continued to look at Tomoki as he spoke.

“I like Miu.”

“…”

“I’ve always liked her. Miu liked you, but she came to like me now. That’s why we’re dating.”

He didn’t look away from Tomoki, and it was as though his words were attached to weights as they sunk down into the ocean. He looked strange and unashamed.

This was probably what adults called “illicit love”. They called it “adultery” for the slightly heavier B-class. Tomoki was the one going out with Miu, and Hiroya was supposed to be the crafty villain in this situation, so why was he more composed than Tomoki himself?

Maybe, it was because even though Hiroya was the villain, he was also the winner. It was because that he has the confidence that he was the one who had Miu’s heart. Thinking about that, Tomoki himself was surprised by how angry he got.

“You knew well about Miu and I, but you still did that.”

“Oh yeah, I knew you guys were dating. But I also knew that it wasn’t going well. I probably know how much Miu was worrying about that better than you did.”

“It was going well with Miu.”

“So I hear, but do you know her birthday?”

“It’s…”

“Do you know what are her favorite colors and foods?”

“…”

“Those might just be small things, but if they were enough to make Miu happy, I will remember them all. Whether it’s her zodiac sign, her blood type, or her favorite flower in the language of flowers, I will remember them all, no matter what. But, you didn’t even listen to Miu about those things.”

“Because I was diving…”

“I know that, and Miu does too. That’s why she never told you to stop diving or to stop going to practice.”

It’s funny, thought Tomoki as he gripped his futon. Even though Hiroya was supposed to be the villain, the situation was quickly worsening.

“For diving, Miu had always cheered you on. I did too. That’s because we know how hard you worked. Because we watched you practice until you’re exhausted and made bruises to appear on your body. But…but I’ve been putting forth the efforts that you never did for Miu until now. Everyday I think about Miu, encourage Miu who’s feeling down because of you, confess to her in the midst of confusion, confessing over and over again…even though you, who never did anything like that, will hate me after this, to be honest, I didn’t get what she saw in you at all.” (1)

It was only when he said the last thing that Hiroya looked somewhat apologetic.

The amount of effort for Miu was different. Therefore, Tomoki was unqualified to blame Hiroya. That was what Hiroya wanted to say. Certainly, Tomoki thought there was some truth to it. That’s why Tomoki felt even angrier.

“That’s enough. I don’t want to hear about how much effort you made, or when you started to go out with Miu. But there’s just one thing…”

One last thing. Though he knew it’d be better to quit now, he couldn’t stop himself from asking this.

“Did you kiss her?”

Hiroya lifted a corner of his mouth, unable to conceal his happiness.

“Yes.”

It was at that moment that Tomoki decided that he would never forgive him in this lifetime.

“Oh, but I want to say, it’s not like we liked doing it secretly. We really wanted to tell you sooner.” Hiroya hurriedly added to what he had just spoken when he saw Tomoki’s expression suddenly change.

“But, Tomo, you have an important competition soon. And, Miu was worried, so we decided to keep silent about it until it was over.”

“…”

“She was only worried about the competition on the way home today. Even now she thinks you’re incredible. But, it’s just that she has come to like me more than you…”

“…”

“The competition’s next week, right? Miu wants to go and cheer you on, so can we go together?”

“…again.”

“Huh?”

“Never come again!”

Tomoki, who only had the words kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss…replaying in his mind over and over again while listening to Hiroya’s voice, shouted that, before flopping face down on his bed with a thud. He was a corpse again.

He was sad.

More than that, he was empty.

More than that, he was at the very least, frustrated.

His brother stole his girlfriend. Ever since she had confessed to him and they started going out, he had almost never called her himself, never invited her on a date, not even for birthdays, Christmas, Tanabata, or diving practices, and now his girlfriend, who he didn’t even know if he liked, was stolen by his brother who had spared no effort at all, and kissed her.

It was a somehow reasonable talk. Even he would choose Hiroya if he was Miu. He understood the reasoning behind it.

But, he felt frustrated.

Frustrated…

Hiroya, sitting next to Tomoki, who wouldn’t reply to anything he said, creaked on the chair of the study desk for a while, but then eventually stood and silently left the room.

Come to think of it, that might have been the first time I had ever yelled at Hiroya so loudly, Tomoki suddenly thought after Hiroya disappeared. No, this might even be the first time that we ever had a fight.

Hiroya, his brother who was born within one year of him and in the same grade. His younger brother, who was like a close friend to him. Even though he seemed stubborn to his little brother, his girlfriend was stolen—

Translation Notes:

1. Not really a translation note, but I was a bit confused by that part since the subject was vague. The phrase used here is “ぴんとこない” which means “doesn’t get it, doesn’t ring a bell” which could also be used in contexts like when someone doesn’t “get” why something is popular. So Hiroya says something like “Honestly speaking, I don’t get it” but there was a comma after the “I” in the original, so maybe he was referring to Tomoki for not getting the hint about him and Miu, so I don’t know maybe if this line shows up in the anime I will change it

Next time on DIVE!!: Backstory time!

#dive!! #dive novel translation

[paleorecipecookbook]

RHR: Can Your Paleo “Template” Include Grains & Legumes?

In this episode we discuss:

Should we avoid foods with lectins?

Should we avoid foods with phytic acid?

Reasons why you should limit or avoid legumes and grains

Customize your diet to meet your individual tolerance

New book coming soon

[smart_track_player url="http://ift.tt/2wLCBYu" title="RHR: Can Your Paleo Template Include Grains and Legumes?" artist="Chris Kresser" ]

Chris Kresser: Hey, everybody, it’s Chris Kresser. Welcome to another episode of Revolution Health Radio. This week we have a question from Staci. Let’s give it a listen. Staci: Hello my name is Staci. Thank you so much, Chris for all you do. I absolutely love your website and your podcast. I use it as a resource for myself and for my patients. I'd like to ask a question that I really tried to research very hard and I've had trouble because most of the research on whole grains compares it to the regular SAD diet with processed flours, the white stuff, the sugar. So it's really hard because the evidence will of course say that whole grains are better. But I want to know if outside of food sensitivities, are gluten free, whole grains that are unprocessed, not turned into flours, things like quinoa, rice, brown rice, things that you're cooking in a pot and eating essentially, are they inflammatory? Are they bad for our microbiome? I haven't seen evidence to support this. I think that if people have a food sensitivity to it, and for sure that happens especially with IBD and other autoimmune conditions, it's very common to have food sensitivities even to gluten free whole grains. But outside of having a food sensitivity to it, is there evidence that everyone should be off of gluten free, whole unprocessed grains? I haven't been able to see that. Is it true that they're inflammatory for those that don't have an immune reaction because it's a food sensitivity for them? Is it true that they're not good for the microbiome? The research that I've seen shows that it improves biodiversity, the microbiome, whole grains. So that would be what I'd like to ask you today. If anyone can help me with this question, I think it could be you. You do mention that the Paleo is the template. And I think that that might be part of the answer. It's a good place to start, but not necessarily everyone needs to be off of them -- off of whole grains or legumes or things like that. Especially if they're prepared in the right way. So that's my question for you today. Sorry it's a little long-winded. Thank you. Chris: Okay, Staci, thanks for sending your question. I'm going to expand on this a little bit and talk about legumes as well as grains because I often get questions about whether legumes can be part of a healthy diet. Of course, the Paleo dogma holds that we should never eat grains or legumes. There are usually two arguments to support this idea. The first is that grains and legumes contain lectins.

Should we avoid foods with lectins?

Lectins are a type of protein that can bind to cell membranes, and animal studies have shown that lectins can impair growth, damage the lining of the intestine, destroy skeletal muscle, and interfere with the function of the pancreas, among other things. That sounds pretty bad, right? Not so fast, though. There are several reasons that these results probably shouldn't be extrapolated to humans:

The first is that animals in these studies consumed an enormous amount of lectins—much more than a human would get from a varied diet that includes some grains and legumes.

Second, most lectins are destroyed by cooking. For example, cooking legumes for as little as 15 minutes or pressure-cooking them for seven-and-a-half minutes almost completely inactivates the lectins that they contain, leaving no residual lectin activity in properly cooked legumes and grains. The results vary a little bit depending on the legume and the grain, but that's a general rule. Cooking does inactivate most lectins.

What's more, other components in food, like simple sugars, can bind to lectins and diminish their toxic effect. Even if there is a small amount of lectin left after cooking, it's unlikely that it will have a detrimental effect, given the presence of simple carbohydrates in both legumes and grains that can bind to those proteins.

Finally, if lectins really are a problem, then we'll have to cut out a lot more than grains and legumes from our diet if we want to avoid them. Turns out the lectins are present in over 50 different fruits, vegetables, spices, and commonly eaten plants, including carrots, zucchini, melon, grapes, cherries, raspberries, blackberries, garlic, and mushrooms, to name a few.

Every plant we eat contains some small amount of toxin, since this is how plants defend themselves. In the majority of these cases, these low levels of toxins don't harm us, and in fact they may even provide health benefits. For example, many of the compounds that we call antioxidants, like polyphenols found in blueberries, dark chocolate, etc., are actually pro-oxidants that cause mild oxidative stress, and by doing that they upregulate our body's natural antioxidant defense system. This is a little-known fact about so-called antioxidants. They actually benefit us by promoting a little bit of oxidative stress that our body then responds to in a hormetic, or favorable, way. The one lectin we may want to exercise caution with, though, is peanut lectin, since both raw peanuts and peanut oil have really high lectin content. There is some data in animals that suggests that peanut lectin may contribute to atherosclerosis by stimulating the growth of smooth muscle and pulmonary arterial cells. However, other research, including clinical trials in both animals and humans, has found that peanuts and even peanut oil actually reduce cardiovascular risk factors and thus may protect against heart disease. I think the jury's still out even in that case.

Are grains and legumes really that bad for you?

Should we avoid foods with phytic acid?

The second argument that is typically made against grains and legumes is that they contain phytic acid. Phytic acid is the stored form of phosphorus that is found in many plants, especially in the bran in whole grains, and nuts and seeds. Although herbivores like cows and sheep can digest phytate, or phytic acid, humans cannot. This is bad news because phytic acid binds to minerals, especially iron and zinc, in food and prevents us from absorbing them. It's important to note that phytic acid does not leach minerals that are already stored in the body; it only inhibits the absorption of minerals from food in which phytic acid is present. If you eat rice or oats that have phytic acid in them, then you don't absorb as many nutrients as you would otherwise from those foods if the phytic acid was not present, but the phytic acid is not going to remove nutrients that are already stored in the body. Phytate can also interfere with enzymes that we need to digest our food, including pepsin, which is needed for the breakdown of proteins in the stomach, and amylase, which is required for the breakdown of starch. Phytic acid also inhibits the enzyme trypsin, which is needed for protein digestion in the small intestine. Again, at first glance it sounds pretty bad, right? It sounds like we shouldn’t be eating any phytic acid at all. While it's true that diets that are high in phytate contribute to mineral deficiencies, it is also true that humans can tolerate moderate amounts of it without harm. This might be because our gut bacteria produce enzymes that break down phytate and thus make us able to extract the nutrients that the body needs. In fact, there is even some evidence that phytic acid has beneficial effects. It has been shown to prevent the formation of free radicals, which makes it an antioxidant; it prevents the accumulation of heavy metals in the body and plays a role in cellular communication. The problem with telling people to strictly avoid grains and legumes because they contain phytate is that, just like legumes, many other healthy foods in the diet, including Paleo-friendly foods, contain substantially higher amounts of phytic acid than legumes or grains. For example, a single serving of trail mix, which is that beloved Paleo snack favorite, is likely to be much higher in phytic acid than a serving of lentils or whole grains. Cacao beans, which we make chocolate from, have about the same amount of phytic acid as most other beans and legumes, and spinach and Swiss chard are higher in phytate than almost any legume, nut or seed. It's also important to note that phytic acid can often be at least partly broken down by certain food-processing methods, such as soaking and roasting. I wrote an article awhile back called “Another Reason You Shouldn’t Go Nuts on Nuts,” suggesting that you can dehydrate roasted nuts before eating them for exactly this reason. In the case of legumes, studies have shown that soaking at room temperature for 18 hours or at 140 degrees Fahrenheit for three hours eliminates between 30 and 70 percent of phytic acid, depending on the legume. For grains, it really varies, depending on the grain. Some grains have phytase, which is the enzyme that breaks down phytic acid, naturally present in the grain, and so those grains typically don't need to be soaked for as long. Whereas other grains don't have phytase and need to be soaked for longer, and generally it's better to add some kind of acidic medium like fermented dairy, kefir, lemon juice, or something like that to the soaking water to help activate the enzymatic process. Some of you might be familiar with the Weston A. Price approach to eating. It's basically a Paleo diet that also includes properly prepared grains and legumes. For example, if you're going to eat oatmeal, you would soak the oats overnight in room-temperature water with maybe a little bit of kefir, and then you would drain that in the morning and then you would cook those soaked oats. Same if you eat brown rice or if you eat lentils or other legumes, you would soak them and prepare them properly. This is in fact what all traditional cultures who consumed whole grains and legumes did. Whether you're talking about indigenous people in what is now Mexico or Central America, they did that with corn and cornmeal. People who lived in Africa who consumed various grains and legumes and people all over the world who Weston Price studied. People in what is now Switzerland, they made a natural sourdough bread, which is a fermentation process, of course, that would break down the phytic acid and make the nutrients more bioavailable. This is a common practice in any culture that traditionally ate whole grains and legumes. The problem is, today almost nobody does that except people who are aware of the importance of this or maybe even some traditional cultures … people living in the industrialized world who maintain some connection with their traditional ways.

Reasons why you should limit or avoid legumes and grains

Given everything that we've talked about so far, you might think I'm a fan of whole grains and legumes, but there are several reasons why I think many people may need to limit their consumption of these foods and why I still do recommend a Paleo template as the best starting place for most people. Nutrient density The first reason comes down to nutrient density and optimizing this, the amount of nutrients that we consume in our diet on a day-to-day basis, should be one of the main goals that we have comes to food. Micronutrients are the fuel for our bodies, and suboptimal amounts of any of them will cause significant problems. Nutrient deficiency is just widespread in the industrialized world. More than a third of Americans are deficient in essential nutrients, and that's using the RDA, our recommended dietary allowance, which is the threshold at which acute deficiency symptoms occur. That doesn't mean that the RDA is the optimal intake level of a nutrient; it's just a level at which we start to see very acute symptoms of deficiency. If we used instead the optimal intake of a given nutrient, the number or the percentage of Americans and other people living in both the developed and developing worlds that are deficient in nutrients would be much higher. The most nutrient-dense foods are organ meats, shellfish, spices and herbs, meat and fish, nuts and seeds, and fruits and vegetables. I shared some references to these nutrient density studies in my first book, Your Personal Paleo Code, which was later published as The Paleo Cure. If you've read that book, you've probably seen some of this research. Of course, those foods should sound familiar because they make up what we call a Paleo diet or a Paleo template. Whole grains and legumes do contain some nutrients, but they're generally lower on the list than many of the foods I just mentioned when it comes to nutrient density. Organ meats and shellfish are orders of magnitude higher in terms of nutrient content than grains and legumes, for example. For that reason alone we shouldn't base our diets on whole grains and legumes. This of course is one of the reasons why vegetarians and vegans do typically have much higher rates of nutrient deficiency because they consume significantly higher amounts of whole grains and legumes. Often their diet can be based around these foods—and that's if they're doing well! There's of course also the junk food vegetarian who is eating mostly refined flour, sugar, and a whole bunch of stuff that's not meat or animal products, but it's not particularly ... not only not nutrient dense, but also full of stuff that can be harmful. Autoimmune disease There are certain groups that also may need to limit or even completely avoid grains and legumes. One is people with autoimmune disease, which now affects up to one in six Americans. There is some evidence—a lot of it is anecdotal—but there is some evidence suggesting that compounds in these foods, including lectins, may be problematic for people with autoimmune disease. This is also true of other foods like eggs, nightshades, nuts, and seeds, which are proscribed on the autoimmune protocol, or AIP, which I'm sure many people listening to this have heard of and may even be on themselves. I think the evidence for the AIP has been mostly anecdotal so far. However, there was a peer-reviewed study recently done on at UC San Diego that I'm going to be writing about soon, and that study had actually pretty impressive results that I'm really excited to see. I mean, it's kind of miraculous that that study got done in the first place because, as I'm sure many of you know, getting funding for a study that's purely a dietary intervention, when most medical research is funded by pharmaceutical companies, is exceedingly difficult. But what happened is that a gastroenterologist at Scripps down in San Diego was introduced to AIP after witnessing one of her patients with ulcerative colitis, which is an autoimmune disease, made a really astonishing recovery using that diet, and so this GI doc decided to put together a study to formally investigate it both in patients with UC, ulcerative colitis, and also in Crohn's disease patients, which is another autoimmune gastrointestinal disease. The results were pretty phenomenal, and I think it's kind of a landmark study because it really, for the first time, showed that AIP was able to induce clinical remission by week six in 11 out of 15 participants, so 73 percent of study participants, and all 11 maintained clinical remission during the maintenance phase of the study. This is quite remarkable. A 73 percent remission rate rivals even the most aggressive drug therapies, steroids and immunosuppressive drugs like Imuran and Remicade, which have side effects leading all the way up to death, and they were able to accomplish this with just a dietary intervention. Even though most of the evidence is anecdotal in AIP, we now have some peer-reviewed evidence supporting its use in autoimmune gastrointestinal disease. Certainly in my work with patients in the clinic, I've seen it be incredibly helpful for people with a number of different autoimmune diseases. Other digestive disorders Another group that may need to limit their whole grains and legume consumption are people with gut problems independently of autoimmune gut issues. This is a huge number of people, frankly. IBS is now the second leading cause of people missing work. Virtually every patient that comes to my clinic has gut issues. Many people that I just talk to because of my profession, a lot of friends and family members, come to me for advice, and in many cases it's related to gut issues. I think it's pretty safe to say that a large percentage of the population suffers from dysfunctional gut to some degree or another. Grains and legumes are often hard on the gut, and many people with gut issues feel better when they avoid or limit these foods. One reason for that is that most legumes and some grains contain FODMAPs, and these are classes of carbohydrates that are poorly absorbed by some people and can provide food for bacteria that may be present in the small intestine where they shouldn't be. So for people with SIBO or people with fungal overgrowth or other intestinal conditions, the FODMAPs can be problematic. In these cases, I've found that soaking and the other proper steps of preparation that I mentioned before for grains and legumes can help to some degree. I have patients, for example, who cannot tolerate unsoaked grains or legumes but can tolerate some amount of soaked and properly prepared grains and legumes. Experimentation can pay off there, but in general, I've typically found that people with these kinds of gut issues do feel better when they avoid these foods.

Customize your diet to meet your individual tolerance

Let's just kind of wrap it up. When I wrote my first book, I suggested that the best approach is to start with a 30-day Paleo reset. I hope it's clear why now. Even though whole grains and legumes … you may be able to include them in small amounts as part of an overall healthy diet, it's best to try a period of time (usually 30 days, but sometimes more especially if you have an autoimmune disease), where you're not eating them at all because that's the only way you’ll get a chance to see how they are truly affecting you. And then, after you're finished with that reset, you can start slowly adding back in the what I call “gray area” foods like grains and legumes, which we’ve talked about today, and also including dairy, particularly full-fat and fermented dairy, which I've written and talked about a lot in the past, and then see if you tolerate them. If you tolerate them without difficulty, I don't see a problem with including these gray-area foods in your diet with two caveats, which are that they're not replacing more nutrient-dense foods, and you eat them in relatively small or moderate amounts. I've never seen any convincing research that whole grains and legumes when they're properly prepared are significant contributors to the chronic disease epidemic. Let's face it, we didn't get to where we are with two-thirds of Americans being overweight and one-third of Americans being obese by eating quinoa and lentils. We got here by eating pizza, drinking big gulps, having grain-based desserts, fried foods and all kinds of other processed and refined crap. That's what has caused the chronic disease epidemic, not whole grains and legumes. The same is true for dairy, which I have talked about at length. If you look at the research on full-fat dairy overall, it's very encouraging, and it really comes down to individual tolerance in that case. There are people who are intolerant of lactose, quite a few people actually, two-thirds of the population of the world, and there are people who are intolerant of the proteins in dairy. Those people obviously will not do well with dairy, but for people who don't have either of those issues, and even for people with lactose intolerance, they can consume full fat from any dairy—foods like kefir and yogurt (especially if they're made at home, where all are fermented to the point where lactose is removed), ghee, butter, and full-fat cream, which don't have very much lactose or protein, but it's really an individual thing. The research shows that they're beneficial when they're well tolerated. I think that sums it up here. The moral of the story here is that if you're able to eat small amounts of properly prepared whole grains and legumes without any difficulty or worsening of your symptoms, and you're still eating a very nutrient-dense diet that contains organ meats, shellfish, herbs and spices, meat and fish, nuts and seeds, fresh fruits and vegetables, then that's fantastic. Lucky you, you have a broader and more diverse diet and fewer limitations. If you have autoimmune disease or gut issues, you may need to be more careful with these foods and it would be even more important for you to do a reset diet where you eliminate these foods for a period of time before adding them back in and see how you tolerate them.

New book coming soon

Speaking of books, I wanted to mention that my next book, called Unconventional Medicine, is coming out on November 7th. I'm really, really excited about this book. It proposes a three-part solution to the growing epidemic of chronic disease that’s destroying our quality of life, bankrupting our governments, and threatening the health of future generations. Our current conventional approach to what I call “sickcare” rather than “healthcare,” because that's really what it is when you think about it. It focuses on suppressing symptoms and managing disease rather than preventing and reversing disease by addressing the root cause. We desperately need a new solution of true healthcare that can reverse these problems, restore people's health, empower patients to take charge of their own health, and inspire healthcare practitioners to do the kind of work that they envision doing when they decided to enter medicine or healthcare in the first place. Unconventional Medicine lays out a vision for how we can do that. You can learn more about it and sign up to be notified when it's released and for some really cool prelaunch stuff that we're going to be doing with the book—free stuff, bells and whistles, that's UnconventionalMedicineBook.com. It's kind of a tight timeline here. We’ve got a lot of other balls in the air and things going on, but I'm super, super excited about this book. I think you're going to love it, and I hope you can join us in pushing this movement forward to reinvent medicine and healthcare. I think it's something … it’s really my purpose here to end chronic disease and to create a new way of doing this. Okay, everybody, thanks for listening. Keep sending in your questions to http://ift.tt/1DErq19, and I'll talk to you in a couple of weeks.

Source: http://chriskresser.com October 10, 2017 at 10:13PM

#paleo #recipe #food #delicious #healthy #yum #diet

[studymotivation53]

How to extend your focusing abilities when studying? Before giving you the tips. I’d like to tell you “What type of student I was.” I didn’t have time to study for a long period of time actually, I have classes from 7:30am to 8pm. I’ve got 4 major subjects of 4 different topics that would have a quiz the next day. I have manuals for my laboratories to finish. Hours of Classes to attend. I have to sleep and study and do this and that chores and etc. I have 8 hours of laboratory duty during Saturday. So as you can see. I’m tired. I don’t get much studying done. I’m a huge blah and tell you the truth? I don’t even know how to time manage at that time. Now that I’m done I wish I was able to like focus right away and when I have a Sunday for myself instead of sleeping and resting I wish I spent it on studying. Before the tips. I want you to put this as your routine in life. Sleep very very important!!! No way are you be able to focus without it .I’d rather sleep than study believe me! Next focus on class. Some people wants to write while listening. I do to but not the wordy type. I place my pen and notebook on my desk empty page and all cross my arm and listen real well. I process what my teacher is talking about not just listening but actually visualize what he is saying step by step I try to put the thoughts together in my mind. (For example. The Immune system is at a constant of battle. We have 3 lines of defenses The skin and the mucous membrane (and impenetrable barrier that cannot be easily destroyed, lines the nose and etc to trap antigens so that they can be flushed out), next are fever and inflammation (Increase heat makes the antigens uncomfortable this is due to increase in blood flow of RBC and the fever produced by the body) , last but never the least the Immune system (T cells and B cell are responsible for I.D and production of antibodies which destroys the antigen that has entered).) People would write it down this way. Line of defense 1.skin mucous membrane - and impenetrable barrier that cannot be easily destroyed, line the nose and etc to trap antigens so that they can be flushed out like coughing and sneezing 2.fever inflammation - Increase heat makes your antigens uncomfortable this is due to increase in blood flow of RBC and the fever produced by the body 3.immune system - T cells and B cell are responsible for I.D and production of antibodies which destroys the antigen that has entered Me: sure I have to read the book and read this too. Great more things I need to do with my schedule. -__- My version? I’ve processed this in my mind like a drawing. To tell you the truth I wouldn’t have to write it down. I got it in here (Brain) let’s just imagine this as kind of like a hand drawing. Antigens = red circles; Triangle = heat; y=antibody Pic on top.

Then Eat real food. You’ll have more energy this way for the day. Then you can still study when coming home instead of feeling like dying. Now on to the tips!

1. Get it started. When you aren’t used to studying for a long period of time. It is normal that you can’t stay focus for more than 15 minutes. I experienced this as well. Start a time you want to study like 7 am in the morning choose a desk that is wide enough for you to place your things, oh and Don’t eat a lot! We get sleepy when we are too full, sometimes apps that will refrain you from using my phone can’t help me because it has become an essential part of my life now not to mention I’m used to holding and using my phone all the time. So what I did was use a timer app that would time my progress of studying (Brain focus is what I use (not sponsored)) I studied for like what? 3 minutes at first then I was grabbing my phone because I was sooooo bored with studying. But that clock that counts my time makes me stop myself from holding it. But when I do use my phone I press the pause button of time I’m studying.

NOW a minute or two of progress is a great deal already. Yes it is! Progress is progress no matter how small it is. You just have to keep going! Now if you can’t study anymore then get off the desk and do something else. Don’t watch movies and if you have that feeling that I won’t get up after this I’m sure try to push yourself to try again. If you really want to watch a movie I have a Chinese series called Love O2O. The girl is a Gamer but she is also a scholar student so her friends studies for exams and all and she’s like I’m done with my studies gonna play a game now.(I so want to be like that!!!) gives me a boost whenever I see her study.

2. Keep studying at your assigned time 7 am EVERYDAY yes EVERYDAY. You have to get used to it train your mind to think in the morning (Sidetrack I used to be a night own now I’m a morning bird. You have to teach your body to work in the morning that is when exams, quiz, class usually occurs right? You have to sleep at night remember? I know studying is boring but you’ll get used to it . YOU HAVE TO GET USED TO IT. 3. Track your status, the app (Brain focus has like statistics on how much studying you’ve done for the day) you have to make it your goal to improve! Push push push yourself and let it get used to it. Habit is the key! 4. I used to be someone who doesn’t like any sound when studying. For me this is a no no, your future circumstances like me I aim to be a surgeon someday is not going to adjust for you. Is the O.R or E.R or the hospital itself quiet? Nope! It is one of the noisiest place when during an emergency, the sound of machines beeping, people calling out for aid, groans of patients, bustling sounds of clothes, footsteps etc etc. I changed this by listening to study with me videos from youtube (Ways to study is a fave of mine. Awesome study tips by the way! Check her out, my friend tried her methods and she’s having perfect marks recently) not full blast ofcourse just enough for it to be a background noise (Using an LGK10, app mx player volume 12(This lets you play Videos like an MP3. I have to see the Brain focus app)). 5. Don’t eat too much! You will get sleepy!Tthe body will focus on digesting your food. So you will get sleepy and you won’t be able to study and a 10 minute nap? No way man! My bed is too comfy. I suggest a cup of water if your thirsty, or an apple. For me I don’t eat anymore when I study. I study when I wake up, then have breakfast after an hour or two as for snacks I have them in the afternoon. Around 3 pm just a piece of bread study again then dinner. Hmmm go online a little bit(I post on my studygram studymotivation53. I don’t have to set that much time on going on line because when I have my break I post on my studygram so no need) then study then sleep. 6. If you achieved a 30 minute or more improvement of focusing test yourself. Move your location. I was scared to go home when I did this because I’m staying at a boarding house for my review. I was scared that I MIGHT NOT GET SOME STUDYING DONE SINCE I’ll be staying home for a bout 2 weeks and that’s a lot but glad to say that I can study even though its not my desk with the TV with just a wall separating us. I used to get frustrated that my brother screams or plays loudly now it doesn’t bother me anymore or the sound of what used to be my fave show TEEN TITANS now teen titans Go! My laptop playing Ways to study’s study with me vlogs. 7. Hmmm nice study stuff is a bonus too a great pen and a smooth white paper or notebook really helps me out when I study. Highlighters are great too. My pens are color coded (Blue = Title; pink = terms or names of organisms or test etc etc.; orange = explanation or notes). Nice things makes you want to stay more on your table so make that desk simple but efficient. 8. Planner. I do have a Bujo but I prefer to use my challenge accepted pad. Like I want to finish 12 topics for today so I list them down and check them out after I finish the topic. Remember a cute Bujo would be useless if its not going to help you. Don’t spend too much time on doing them.  9. So to summarize it all. Start. Discipline. Make it into a habit. Change yourself don’t stay on your comfort zone. Sorry If I have some grammar mistakes or like commas are missing. English isn’t my mother tongue sooooooooooo Sorry!!!!!!!!

I hope I could help! 1 person that can improve is a big big motivation for me. Speaking of which I also have a studygram (studymotivation53) I post motivational quotes over there. If you could give me tips on how to improve myself then I am always open for messages and Dm’s!

#study motivation #studyblr #studying #tips #university #science #school #studygram #advice #studytime #studytildawn #success #failure #student

[0100100100101101]

Berlin—February 1st, 2017. I am rushing through the neighborhood of Mitte, slaloming my way through icy mud piles along the streets. Google tells me the sun is setting today at 16:53. I have two more hours of daylight. Just about enough to get a few shots of Errolson Hugh, the Canadian designer behind the Berlin-based performance wear brand Acronym.

We get together at his studio in the Mitte neighborhood in former East Berlin, which is now a popular bourgeois-bohemian neighborhood. In his loft-like studio, I almost crash into one of the stacks of the hundreds of shoe boxes that dot the floor plan like Greek temple columns. “Sorry about the mess,” Errolson says in a calm voice, “all these shoes go online for sale tonight.” Inside the boxes is the Acronym Nike Air Force 1 Downtown sneaker, the latest edition of their ongoing collaboration. Like almost everything Acronym puts onto the market, it is in high demand and soon to be #VeryRare. I find out later that night that all 600 sneakers sold in less than 12 minutes online.

I look past the shoe boxes through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows. The sky is grey and darkening at the horizon. We dash out in the backyard to catch the last rays of gloomy light. Errolson grabs a couple of black jackets, among them the J1A-GT, a revamped version of Acronym’s first collection from 2002. “It’s damn cold,” I gasp, and Errolson smiles, replying, “Oh, this is nothing compared to where I come from.”

Born in Canada, Errolson grew up facing another echelon of cold winters. To keep ourselves warm, I ask him if he can show me a few martial arts moves, knowing that he has been a karate pro since he was a kid. He shortly considers, looks around the neighborhood, then says, “Yeah, why not.” Errolson tells me that he and his younger brother both started training together, when they were 10 and eight years old, respectively. The uniform, the karate gi, is a very traditional example of Japanese pattern-making, and its geometry is such that there are no restrictions to physical motion. That was the first time Errolson realized a piece of clothing could limit or enable the way the body works. “I was always driving my mom crazy trying to find pants that I could wear and kick in. Any kind of pants. I’d always be in the department stores in the changing rooms, throwing sidekicks,” he says.

Errolson is dressed in his own collection, wearing black P25-CH pants, exactly those ones he dreamt of as a kid—pants you can move in freely, stay outside in, and practice karate. I ask him what he learned from karate apart from how to do a badass axe kick. “Martial arts fosters self-reliance, and you learn to trust your own judgment. You realize, in a very real, physical way, that you can do more than you think you can. The whole mind over matter thing, mastering situations, all of that has real world application, particularly if you’re an entrepreneur or you’re in a super competitive industry, like fashion.“

Only much later would the designer apply the merits of karate to his work process, design, and brand. Errolson’s parents, Chinese-Jamaicans, moved from the tropical Caribbean to the woodlands of Alberta to study architecture. After graduating, they worked together all over Canada, moving around to wherever the jobs would take them. “For me, Canada was the feeling of alienation and total isolation,“ Errolson says about his up-bringing, “Growing up there was myself, my brother, maybe one other Asian kid at school, one black kid. People wanted to grow up and be hockey players or work in the oil industry, that’s kind of all there was, so being a designer was about as realistic as becoming an astronaut.”

Nobody knew anything about fashion. Errolson remembers one shop, which had a copy of The Face and i-D, that was like a message from outer space. “I think it was my guitar teacher who first gave me an issue of The Face,” Errolson remembers, “That blew me away. Then my dad gave me a copy of Interview magazine at Christmas in 1985. Madonna was on the cover, along with handmade pencil drawings. It was this giant newsprint magazine. I still remember spending the entire day reading. I knew every single page of that magazine by like a week later.” With no internet, those rare magazines were the only channel to see what was going on outside of Alberta.

In 1989, Errolson enrolled at Ryerson Polytechnic University. He graduated, but it was a bumpy road. “They tried to kick me out, twice. I was a horrible student—very disruptive and not respectful,“ he confesses. I ask him if it had to do with his karate mentality, the idea of being self-reliant and one’s own boss. “Yeah, there had always been that outsider perspective,” he answers. “It is still that way with my brand.”

In 1999, Errolson registered the brand Acronym with his partner and former girlfriend Michaela Sachenbacher. From the start it focused on experimenting at the edges of what apparel can be. “Acronym is conceptual,” the designer says, “You take something and make it compact and useable. You express something very complex in a compact way, which is similar to everything we’re trying to do with apparel.”

Michaela and Errolson are both trained as designers. She now runs all of the legal, production, and finances of the company from Brooklyn, while Errolson does all of the Acronym studio work, collaborations with Nike or Stone Island, rotating between Berlin, Milan, and Tokyo. They both design Acronym together. “I’m the visible part, but Michaela is equally strong as far as aesthetics, and Acronym definitely wouldn’t look the same if she wasn’t co-owner,” Errolson says, “She is the person I’ve probably learned more from than anyone else in my life. I’ve known her since we were 18.”

Before establishing Acronym as a fashion brand, Michaela and Errolson had a creative agency in Munich. They were designing and art directing mostly active sportswear, for mountain bike or snowboard brands like Burton. Both picked up on the technology that was there and through friends came across military and industrial apparel, which at some point led to the question, “Why can’t we have all of this for everyday use?” The couple realized that what they were looking for in clothes was not yet on the market. “People were like, ‘Oh that sounds terrible, it’s so difficult, it’s expensive, why would you want to do that?’ So we started Acronym almost out of frustration. We said, ‘Alright, if you don’t want to do it, we’ll do it.’ At first, people didn’t care. It was like five to six years before anybody was interested.”

Errolson is well-connected in the fashion world, having lived in Los Angeles, Tokyo, and New York, but for years the brand remained something like an outsider, a well-hidden secret. Another reason Acronym stayed detached from the fashion system is the way the company and the studio work. “We operate in parallel with it, and sometimes we intersect with it,” the designer says about the industry at large, “but for the most part our process and the way we work has almost nothing to do with the way everyone else works. This is our strength and it’s also obviously our weakness. The strength of it is being so outside of the system you develop your own independent way of doing things, and it really gives you an individual approach and a fingerprint. Then the negative part obviously is to interface with the system at play. You’re not limited by the limitations of the system, but you also don’t get to benefit from the advantages of being in the system.”

From the beginning, Acronym was focused on soft and light shell fabrics like Gore-Tex, a lightweight, waterproof, breathable fabric membrane designed for all-weather use. A lot of what Acronym does is taking an unattractive or not obviously stylish fabric and finding a way to make it look good. It always starts with the function of the apparel. There is a lot of thought that goes into each design and an obsession with details. The architectural influence from his parents comes into play with Errolson’s approach to materials. “The whole form follows function thing, fitness to purpose, all of those broad architectural concepts. My brother and I grew up with those all around us, and so it was very natural for me to apply that to apparel.”

Acronym’s collections never have more than 15 pieces, an indication of the painstaking detail that goes into each design. It took three years to work on the brand’s first collection, named Kit-1. It was released in 2002 in an edition of 120, consisting of a jacket, a bag, and accessories. The industry noticed, liked it, and the Fall/Winter 2003 collection was picked up by concept stores like Colette in Paris.

There is a misconception in the fashion world that Acronym limits its number of pieces on purpose to create artificial scarcity. In fact, there is so little of Acronym because it is so hard to make. It is very difficult to find a factory that can meet the technical criteria to produce it, Errolson explains to me while pouring himself a glass of Coca Cola. “There’s always a very specific reason for the things that we put in, and those things happen to be expensive, and that’s why it’s expensive. We’re not trying to create something purposefully scarce or purposefully luxurious, we’re just trying to make the best possible thing we can. It’s not a marketing strategy.”

Until 2009, Errolson and Michaela were the company’s only employees. They got so used to working by themselves and for themselves that when people started knocking at their door, they were surprised. Errolson wondered, “Wow, where did people get our number? Why do you call us?“ Even today, it is still kind of like that. There is no PR, no marketing, hardly any events. It was not simple to reach Errolson as he travels and focuses more on work than doing publicity. Yet the team has grown slowly over the years. “I basically hired all of my friends. We joked that all of the lost children of Berlin end up in our office. In other cities, people talk about being cool, because it’s actually a bankable commodity. The way they describe it, that kind of cool actually exists in Berlin as a real thing. People are legitimately cool here, and it’s not about knowing it. I think that also comes because it’s the least materialistic city I have ever lived in. People just aren’t about money. They just don’t care. I think that’s super healthy.”

Only in the past few years has the visibility of Acronym increased. One factor being the cultural shift in the industry in favor of their aesthetic and the rise of high fashion performance wear. Acronym pioneered the introduction of technology as its own category of design aesthetic, and their moves have paved the way for many brands’ ready-to-wear collections in recent seasons. Today, technology is one of the industry’s big trends, blending traditional sportswear with high fashion. Dubbed athleisure, active wear, or performance wear, it is casual clothing designed to be worn both for exercising and for day-to-day use in the cityscape. Fitness and athleticism has become one of the defining cultural paradigms of contemporary urban life, similar to the powers of street culture, that has turned the fashion world upside down in the last decade.

When I ask Errolson about his relationship to streetwear, he says it is hard for him to have an objective view on that, because he knows those guys, and through his work with Burton snowboards, way back in the day, met a lot of the people who invented what everybody calls streetwear today. In Tokyo, he met people like Nigo, Jun Takahashi, and Hiroshi Fujiwara. “Everything we take for granted as streetwear today,” the designer says, “started there organically. They’re all friends. They worked together. They invented the idea of collaboration.”

Acronym itself slowly began working with very carefully selected partners. After five to six years, they realized that trying to do it all by themselves was not possible. “You can’t change the industry as a single brand,” Errolson admits. Among the collaborations are well-established sportswear and streetwear brands that were part of Acronym’s growth. When Paul Harvey retired from his job as creative director at Stone Island, the Italian brand approached Errolson to be a part of that team, a partnership that gave birth to Stone Island Shadow Project. “That’s been super amazing because we get to do things ourselves,” Errolson says. “That’s the only collection we’ve ever worked on where you get to design not only the pieces but also the fabric of those pieces in the collection. They’re so up for trying different things, difficult things, and stuff no one else would even attempt. They’re like, ‘Yeah, let’s add these three processes on top of it and see what happens.’ And you just don’t get that anywhere else.“

Since 2013, Acronym has had another mutually successful partnership with Nike. Both brands worked together to create iconic sneakers, among them the Lunar Force 1 and recently the Presto Air, which has helped Nike develop an avant-garde feel and reach out to the premium menswear segment of the sneaker market. Both companies also worked together on another line, relaunching ACG (All Conditions Gear), Nike’s iconic mountaineering-inspired offering. “It’s the first time we’re really able to work at a scale where we can take an idea and put it on the street in a way that’s much more accessible to more people than we would with Acronym,” Errolson reflects. “Working with Nike means that you’re really working with pop culture. It’s not just a product or a collection. It’s so ingrained into so many people’s histories.”

When Errolson says this, we both glance at the hundreds of shoe boxes in the studio, holding the latest much-anticipated collaboration between Acronym and Nike. By the time the interview ends, the sun is down, leaving this part of the studio in the shade. It is hard to imagine that all the sneakers will be gone soon. Other parts of the studio show pieces of older Acronym collections and accessories, most of them designed from black materials. I ask him if that color is a fetish. “According to my dad, I used to wear all black when I was 10, which is kind of strange to me because that’s before Yohji and Comme des Garçons, which I never would have heard about anyways. He thinks it’s from being influenced by Arata Isozaki, who is a Japanese architect, which kind of makes more sense because there were definitely a lot more architecture books around. But with Acronym later, and the size of production that we used to do, black was the only color that all of the suppliers would have on stock, and that you could order and expect to look sort of okay. That’s why everything is black.”

Besides the underlying constants of dark colors, select materials, and a focus on functionality, in recent seasons, Acronym started to concentrate on pattern-making and how the garments move on the body. As with everything, Acronym takes its time. It’s a culture of methodical tactility. When Errolson mentions this shift, I am reminded of his karate gi and how it sensitized his perception of fashion and empowered him to become a better fighter. “That’s why fashion is so powerful,” Errolson says. “It’s that intersection of design, communication, and identity. It’s a large part of who you are, how you define yourself, how you present yourself to the world. So people definitely get attached to that. Plus, it’s just hard to find a pair of pants that fit you perfectly. It’s actually quite difficult.”

Before leaving his studio, I ask Errolson what was the last mind-opening thing he learned from someone. He tells me about his daughter and seeing her grow up: “It’s amazing to see somebody discover everything for the first time and it’s a good reminder that there can be magic in the most banal things.”

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