spinning disk


Euler’s Disk: (best with sound on) this toy exhibits the motion of a spinning coin, but due to a large mass and very smooth edge this device takes close to 3 minutes to come to rest. Amazingly, the contact point between the disk and the mirror can reach a speed of more that 200 mph. This video catches the first and last parts of this 2 minute and 42 second run, with two cuts to 240fps slow motion to show the curious motion. Watch the end with the sound on!

Coffee Shops and Scars

Request: “hello there! your works are absolutely amazing and I enjoy reading them so much~ keep doing what you do!!! I would love to request a soulmate au where both newt and reader can feel and witness each other’s pain and even fresh wounds on their own body!! (eg. if newt gets a paper cut, so does the reader at the same time) welcome to the angst train _(:3/”

Word Count: 3,434

Pairing: Newt x Reader

Warning: Mentions of blood

Requested by @ah-excuse-me but also tagging @caseoffics and @red-roses-and-stories

Your friend holds a bowl of popcorn out to you when it happens.

You curse and grab your arm, curling up and grimacing.

“Again?” Is all Maria says, placing the bowl back in her lap and taking a handful of popcorn.

You groan. “I’m going to kill this idiot when I meet him.”

She laughs. “You’re going to kill your soulmate?”

“Yes.” You grumble.

“Well, how bad is it this time?” She crunches the popcorn in her mouth as the two of you ignore the record droning on in the background.

You remove your hand from your bicep. A red patch of skin grows under where your hand was clutched, bubbling up in the center. You hiss at the sight.

“Oh, that’s disgusting. Do you have your medkit?”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut. “How the hell did he get a burn there?” You mumble, reaching to your hip and unlatching the medkit you carry with you. It holds everything from tiny bandages to a tourniquet. The tourniquet was a joke gift from another friend when they’d noticed all the scars covering your body, but you’re not so sure you won’t need it someday.

“Leaned against an open oven?”

“With their upper arm?”

She shrugs, tossing more popcorn into her mouth. “Possible.”

“Whatever.” You dig around in the bag and find the bottle of burn cream. You’d bought it six months before and used half of it already.

Maria looks back to the record player, watching the disk spin. “You’re missing the best part of the song.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a little busy.” You spit. You’d been having a perfectly good night before your soulmate had to go and do something stupid.

You finish applying the burn cream when a deep cut suddenly rips opens on your left forearm. A trail of blood rushes out of it, dripping onto your blanket before you can grab anything.

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Appearing early in Greek legend, we see Hyakinthos of Sparta, a dark haired youth who was so beautiful he was perused by the singer Thamyris, the god Zephyrus, and the god Apollo. At his word, the three devised a contest to try and win his affections. First, the two gods conspired to get rid of the mortal, Thamyris, by telling the nine muses that he’d boasted his skill above their own. Then, Zephyrus went, using the west wind to shake the trees around them. Hyacinthus was impressed, but when Apollo shot his arrow leaving nothing but music and sunshine in it’s wake, he took the sun god as his lover. Apollo taught him music and gave him poetry, much of which Hyacinthus then passed on to mortals, but one day when they were throwing the discus, the god of the west wind grew sick with jealousy. Zephyrus turned the spinning disk in midair, causing it to collide with the mortal boy’s skull. Apollo was stricken with grief, but even as the god of medicine, there was no care he could administer to his lover to heal his wounds. Left believing that he’d killed Hyacinthus, he would not allow for Hades to claim his soul, and instead formed a flower from his blood, the Hyacinth, which would rise and return to the world every spring. If you look closely, on it’s petals in inscribed the Greek character “AI” for mourning.

song: the boy who blocked his own shot by brand new

He Goes by the Name H. One

Author: b0blegum

Pairing: DJ!Chae Hyungwon x Reader

Rating: G (at least for now lol)

Genre: Romance


Part: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - end

a/n Him DJ-ing at KCON Japan was what inspired me to write this, because he looks dang hot being a DJ.

Part 1 is short but the next chapters would be long and even more interesting, i promise!

“Oh come on, (y/n)! It’s gonna be lit!” Your bestfriend was still tugging at the hem of your sleeve as you walk around in the kitchen, preparing the lunch for the two of you.

“Nope. I’m not going.” You shook your head. “You know i don’t like that kind of music. It’s too loud!”

“Oh my God, (y/n). All you do is just work. At least have some fun!”

You sipped on the orange juice you just poured and gave your bestfriend one. “Can you just go with your other friends?”

She sighed and put down her glass. “No… I can’t give them.” She said in lower tone.

“Then let them pay for the ticket. That’s easy.” You leaned on the counter.

“The thing is… I can’t sell it.” She looked up to you and grabbed something from her pocket. “It’s the backstage pass. I can’t sell it.”

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It’s Okay || Jack Maynard

Originally posted by 5secons

Requests are currently [ CLOSED ]

Masterlist can be found [ HERE ]

Word Count: 800+

Summary: In which Jack tries to teach you how to DJ.

A/N: okay so I’ve been on a little hiatus for a little while due to the fact that i had to be admitted to the hospital but i’m okay and now that I’m home i can write a whole load of imagines today to target my boredom!!(hopefully xo)

Dedicated to: The anon who requested this, I hope you enjoy it lovely!!xo

“I have no idea how to do this.”

“Just, listen to the way the music flows and let your hands do most of the work.” Jack says, guiding your hands over the spinning disks as she furrow your brows and chew on your bottom lip nervously.

You inhale softly and narrow your eyes as you concentrate on the sounds, making sure that everything looked okay before leaning in and changing something, only to create a high pitched screech which made you gasp and jump away in shock.

Jack quickly lifts the disks and stops the noise, placing his hands around yours and squeezing your clenched fists with a gentle smile. You stare back at him with a pout, glancing over at the equipment sheepishly before pressing your lips together and chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I can’t do it.”

Jack shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Yes, you can.”

You stare at him and raise your eyebrows. “No, I can’t.”

“Princess, I don’t think you understand how this works. It doesn’t just come naturally; it took me years to even understand each aspect of this equipment.” He rubs his thumb across your knuckle and you hum softly, glancing back at the disks with a nervous frown. “When you tried to teach me how to play piano and I had absolutely no idea what I was doing; you understood why, right?”

You nod quickly and look up into his eyes with a reminiscent smile. “Of course I remember, we sat at my mums piano for like, five hours before you finally realised that you only needed to put one finger on each key.” She smirks and pokes his chest with her index finger playfully. “You’d think with Conor Maynard as a brother, you’d at least know how to operate a piano.”

“You’d think with Jack Maynard as a boyfriend, you’d atleast know a few of the buttons on his DJ tables.”

You wince a little, even though you knew for a fact that he hadn’t said the words in spite and was only making a joke. “Right.”

He stares at your for a moment, evaluating your facial expressions, before sighing softly and raising his hands up to cup your cheeks. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

You nod and press your lips together, glancing back at the tables and exhaling softly. “Yeah, I’m sorry, I guess I just really don’t like not being able to do things straight away. Usually, everything comes so naturally to me, but this, it’s so complicated!” You look back up into his eyes and pout softly. “How do you do it so well?”

“You wanna know a secret that nobody but me knows?” He whispers, leaning in closer to your face as you grin and nod. “I just wing it.”

“Really?” You ask in surprise, scrunching up your nose in confusion as you mentally recall all of the times you’d heard him play his tracks in clubs and at venues. “But your live mixes always sound so amazing: like you’ve rehearsed them for hours beforehand.”

His cheeks flush slightly and you can’t help the smile that adorns your face at the mere sight of it. “What would i do without you, eh?”

“You wouldn’t know how to play ‘twinkle twinkle little stars’ so well on the piano.” She smirks, and he rolls his eyes, resting his hands on her waist and tugging her closer to him. “Or maybe you’d starve, or be hungover for the rest of your life.” You tease, and he smirks down at you amusedly.

“Or maybe I’d simply know a lot less about instruments that we do not own and wouldn’t have to listen to my brothers music so often.” He retorts, and you shrug, unphased.

“Just because I enjoy listening to Conor’s music, doesn’t mean you have to listen to it too; although a supportive brother who loves and appreciates his older siblings’ creations can come across as quite attractive.” You hint, and he shakes his head with an amused chuckle.

“Come on, just try one more time?” He pleads, and you sigh nervously, biting your lip and taking a deep breath before nodding. He smiles widely. “Good girl, and don’t worry about getting it wrong, okay? You’re still new to this.”

You smile and mentally build up your confidence before focusing back on the buttons in-front of you and humming, tilting the head to the left and simply standing there in silence. Jack chuckles and walks up behind you, resting his hands over yours and guiding them toward the table, resting his chin on your shoulder and explaining what each button did and how to use it.

You could tell you’d never be as good at dj'ing as Jack was, but the fact that he was so willing to be patient with you and teach you about the thing he’d adored since he was young; that meant so much more.

anonymous asked:

How does game optimization work, particularly for PCs where you can never know what combination of specs the player has? Is it interwoven to every stage of game development or is it only done at the very end right before the game is published?

Optimization generally comes in two flavors: speed and size. Since we have finite time to do things, we want things to run faster in order to do more things in the same amount of time. Similarly, we have finite memory to hold data so we want to make as much use of the limited memory we have as possible by keeping the things we load as small as possible. Most of the time optimizing for speed trumps size because disk space and memory is easier to add than computing speed… but we always want to pack as much as we can into both, so that we can deliver the most game that we can.

At its core, optimization is a question of avoiding unnecessary work. For example, let’s say that we’re working on a first person shooter and the player turns to change the camera. We have a list of all of the entities that exist in the world. We need to figure out whether each entity needs to be drawn. We can simply go through the list and ask “Is there anything in between you and me to stop me from seeing you?” and get an answer, but let’s say that doing the specific check takes a while. If we have to do it for every entity in the game every frame, this can eat up a lot of resources.

But let’s say that we also have a pretty fast condition we can check - let’s say we can ask the entity “Are you behind the player character?” and it will have to answer “yes” or “no”. Suddenly, we can start ignoring a lot of these world entities. After all, if our player can only see what’s in front of her, there is no way that she could see something behind her, right? This means that we should ask this question to every entity that we might see, because it will avoid doing the more expensive “check whether anything is in between us” operation when we don’t have to do it.

Let’s extrapolate on this concept further. One common optimization is using “LoDs” - levels of detail. The idea is that an object that’s very far away from the viewer is hard to see and is only a speck on screen, so we don’t have to render it at full detail because the player can’t see those details anyway. Therefore, we can get away with rendering fewer polygons on the far-away models, and a lot more on the up-close ones. This means that we have to load multiple models for the same entity (each level of detail needs one), but it also means that we are cutting down on the number of polygons the system needs to draw at any given time.

Let’s take this further. Another way of optimization is by minimizing the number of loads we have to do from disk. Hard drives hold a lot of data, but it takes time for the cpu to load the data from them. The reader in the hard drive needs to seek the right position, magnetic disk needs to spin to the right place to be read, then the data needs to be read from the spinning disk and written into memory. This can take a relatively long time. Let’s say that we have our LODs, but we need to load textures for them. Low detail models only need low detail textures, after all. But we want to avoid the set amount of time it takes to load a file. How do we speed it up? What we can do is take all of the textures for the all of the different LOD models and put them all into one big texture. Since we know we’re probably going to use all of the different LOD models, we might as well load all of their textures at the same time too. This means we don’t have to wait for multiple separate loads. These are called Mipmaps.

If you haven’t noticed, these kinds of optimizations apply to all platforms because they are all computers and generally behave the same way. Whether it’s a PC, mobile device, or console, it still has to load stuff from disk, it still has a CPU that runs at a certain speed, and it still uses main memory to load stuff. Don’t get me wrong, there are optimizations we do that are specific to the platform as well, but those tend to be more specific. Most dev teams start optimizing the general stuff as soon as they can, because optimization is part of the planning process too. The goal of optimization is to minimize the resources we use in an intelligent manner. That way things can run faster. Sometimes it means being smart about where to spend our time, and avoiding the expensive operations if we don’t need to do them. Sometimes it’s about using up resources we can spare (such as memory) to save time from loading. Sometimes it’s about trading resources we can spare (like memory) for resource we need (like lowering the number of polygons we have to draw each frame). But it’s all to make things perform more efficiently and that’s always a worthy goal.

Further Reading:

Got a burning question you want answered?

Imagine the world where 98% of the population is autistic, and allism is a disorder. Imagine the world that was built for autistic people and doesn’t support allistic people. Imagine the world where allism is a disability. Imagine a world where an autistic mum finds out that her only son is allistic. Imagine…
A Very Weird World Indeed

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This short clip of a rounded ring of ice spinning on the Middle Fork Snoqualmie River in Washington was one of the most popular videos shared on Social Media this week. Ice disks like these are thought to form either by ice that gets caught in an eddy in a river and is compacted into a circle while the water swirls, or ice that gets caught in an eddy as a sheet and then is rounded by collision with surrounding ice. The fact that there is an outer layer on this disk makes me think that outer layer has been accreted to the spinning disk as ice fell into a stationary eddy in this case. 


Written by @fabulouspotatosister

Fanfiction Contest 2016

It mustn’t catch you.

You’re running. 

What’s going on is really quite simple to explain - there’s a hideous monster chasing you, and you are trying to get away. 

And this monster is very, very fast.

Go faster, go faster, you urge your legs, which are padding on a gravelly surface. It was a bad idea to wear your sneakers, because those shoes are very slippery against gravel. You squeeze your eyes shut for a second, to wipe away the sweat accumulating near your eyes. You are not dying today. Not now, not ever. Not after all you’ve been through.

You grip an alien knife in your hand and it digs into your skin, blood dripping from a cut on your palm. You remember that a communicator is lying somewhere in the dirt, forgotten and lost, all because you yelped and dropped the damn thing. Now you have no idea where you’re going, just bloody following what the Doctor - yes, you are aware that he’s not there with you, just wait - told you before your clammy fingers let go of the walkie-talkie looking rectangle.

You can faintly remember hearing the Doctor calling out for you as you dashed away but could you go back and tell him that it was fine, it was okay? Of course not! You were being chased by something that you really didn’t want to look at, and there’s no time for reassurance in this kind of situation.

You’d be curious about those carved markings on the wall but you don’t have time - you have to get to the Doctor before the beast gets to you.

You can’t stop and cry about it. That’s for later, when you get back to the TARDIS and try to find that swimming pool that’s always offhandedly mentioned. You have a lot of plans for that pool. Maybe some of those plans involve a certain handsome time traveler, but those are thoughts that should be reserved for another day. 

The monster roars and it’s enough to make your heart skip a beat, if it wasn’t already skipping a bunch of well needed beats. The muscles in your feet are aching and your head is pounding, you can’t think, and you just need to run, run as fast as you can. You turn a corner, giving the monster ample time to catch up with you.

Around the bend, you can just see the TARDIS, that daft blue box, exactly where the Doctor said it was, standing tall and vines slowly crawling over it. You’re practically begging your legs to go quicker, because that ugly thing is right at your heels, its claws almost ripping at your shirt. You cry out and pull away, just before a guttural sound tears from its throat and it lunges at you, its sharp, bloodstained fangs biting just inches from your face.

“DOCTOR!” you scream, your throat dry, as the beast jumps at you once more and you cry out again. You’ll need a nice leg massage after this. You’ve probably lost weight. You call for the Doctor once more - you’re almost there, you’re almost there, you -

The TARDIS doors fling open and you dart in, giving you a good chance to take a look at the alien, a lion-like fiend with blue fur and ferocious eyes, before the doors slam shut and you drop to the floor, breathing heavily, vision blurred and tears running down your face.

You’re silently crying and shaking in fear and just desperately wishing that this horrible feeling in your chest would just go away, when a worried-sounding voice interrupts your rest. You suck in a breath and turn to look behind you, where the Doctor seems to be tied to the console with some kind of slithering vine, bursting with flowers.

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but… Could you get me out of here?”

He gives you a smile and you’re glad to return it, pushing your tired self off the ground and cutting through the plant. The alien knife glows with a heat that could only be described as searing. The vine hisses while you slice through it, and it’s a pitiful sound, to be honest. You wince as the cut on your hand stings with the heat of the knife, but you keep going until the vines are in a smoking heap on the TARDIS floor. 

All the while, the Doctor’s giving you that look, the look that’s only reserved for people in pain, which does include you. Yes, you think you’re in pain. Running away from an alien that could have killed you at any moment is tiring, and makes your feet very painful. It’s also emotionally taxing, because there’s a lot of screaming and crying in fear. 

God, do you love this. 

It’s exciting, and that’s what you love about it. Considering that your latest adventure was very Doctor-lite, you were more scared than you usually were on trips like this. Being alone is no fun, being alone with a cute guy is kinda fun, but being alone with a killing machine is not fun at all.

“Thank you,” the Doctor says softly, rubbing his arms, and you nod. He stares at you, that puppy-eyed look still on his face (it reminds you off a dog you had as a child), then pulls you into a warm embrace. Yeah, you definitely needed that. He draws soothing circles on your back, the honeyed scent of his skin filling your nose, and you’ve never felt more relaxed. Honestly, the Doctor should have become a masseuse. He has amazing hands.

“Hey, easy now.” He brushes his lips against your ear and you shudder, in a good way. “Blimey, you’re in bad shape.” He pushes you off and holds you by your shoulders. “How about I take you to that pool, eh? I heard you talking about it a while back. You need a break.”

A nice wash and a fresh set of swimwear later, you’re lying face up on the surface of the pool, feeling the water lap against your cheeks and caress your arms. You feel slightly uncomfortable with the Doctor sitting on a lounge chair not far from where you are - you consider yourself lucky that he’s reading a book, not looking at you at all. It’s a tranquil scene, one only imagined by the minds of the most creative. Not saying that you’re not creative, but it’s hard to actually get this scene in real life.

You pinch your nose and push yourself under, watching the water ripple and wave. You haven’t really mastered the art of holding your breath underwater but you try. 

“Oi!” You hear the Doctor call your name and you resurface, paddling towards the edge of the pool, where the spry brunet Time Lord is waiting for you, a wide grin on his face. You wipe the water out of your eyes and rest your head on the rocky surface. “I know where to go next! Come on, come on, let’s go!”

“Where?” you question him, and he shakes his head. What a strange man.

“I’ll tell you later, come on! Wear something warm!” He stands and darts towards the console room. You sigh and pull yourself up, the rocks hurting the cut on your palm, dry yourself with a fuzzy towel (“Cotton from the holy sheep of Kaltesin, they were the softest sheep in that galaxy,” you recalled the Doctor saying to you - it was a gift for your birthday), wrap yourself with same fuzzy towel, and head back to your room in the TARDIS.

The Doctor often called you ‘a very lucky human’ because the TARDIS never or had the mere idea to move your room. Like many of the companions before you, the TARDIS didn’t like you, but she didn’t hate you either. She just doesn’t have a very high regard for you, being a companion, trying to steal her Doctor away and all. In your opinion, she was like the jealous clingy girlfriend, but could you blame her? You’d do the same - and besides, she met him first.

The console room is big and marvelous, two big spinning disks bearing various names in Gallifreyan, previous companions of the Doctor, faint violet light washing over you. The heart of the TARDIS shines a brilliant light blue, and although it was sparse and simple, it still dazzled you. When you had first entered the TARDIS, you’d said that it was beautiful, unlike the usual ‘bigger on the inside’ stuff. That had pleasantly surprised the Doctor, and he had told you that it was good to hear something else for a change, even if it was quite strange.

“Hello!” The Doctor peeks out his head from behind another part of the console. He pulls himself up and straightens his bowtie once again and you wonder why it always gets crooked. What does he do to make it like that? It’s like it perpetually messes itself around so that he can fix it for dramatic effect.

“Hello,” you greet back, slowly making your way to the Doctor, who is now busy inputting coordinates into the TARDIS. “Where are we going next, Space Boy?”

He grins at you, full and infectious that you find yourself smiling as well. “A new galaxy in the year 2960. It’s practically become a giant winter wonderland, and you know winter wonderlands are cool.” He pauses, and then grins wider. “I made a pun! And and accidental one too. I always love those. It’s filled with scientists but that makes it better, right?”

“Right, and that sounds fun.” You cozy up to the Time Lord, shoulders touching and hands linked. “Then what are we waiting for?”

The Doctor excitedly pulls a lever and you look up and see the TARDIS working its magic. The console room begins to shake and you cling to the Doctor’s coat, laughing and whooping all the way. Your heart leaps with anticipation and you give out a yell, adrenaline rushing through your veins like a hurricane. 

You’ve always loved the thrill of travelling through the Time Vortex. It’s always the same, but the new places you and the Doctor visit are always different. It’s like… It’s a bit hard to explain. It’s like being whisked back to your childhood, way way back, like ‘you’re three years old’ way back, and learning how to speak again. Or-

A sudden jerk, and you are flung across the room. You see the Doctor desperately hanging on, calling out your name intermingled with a chorus of ‘no’s. He’s dancing around the console, pushing buttons and pulling levers and typing random strings of Gallifreyan text onto a screen, but all you hear sounds like you’re underwater. Your ears ring and you shakily get back to your feet before falling again. 

Your vision goes blurry and you struggle not to fall unconscious from the pain that’s blossoming in your back. The TARDIS ceases it’s rocking and the Doctor rushes to you, holding your face in his hands while you insist that you’re okay. He helps you to your feet and you almost collapse, your legs like jelly. You pry yourself off him and hold on to a random railing, determined to stay upright.

“I am not having a good day,” you groan. You’re really tired of being injured in some way and you wish you could just relax. “Where did we land?”

The Doctor opens the doors and looks out. You follow and look out as well, seeing a barren, snow-covered landscape with a dark sky. It’s ice for miles and miles, and you see dead bushes peeking out from under the surface. Flakes of snow slowly fall from the heavens. There are no homes, no strange creatures, and definitely no scientists. 

“We landed in the right place, just not in the right time,” the Doctor says, pulling out his sonic screwdriver and pointing it out, scanning the surroundings. “At least no one’s here, coz that would be very bad. I don’t want to ruin your already bad day - I want to make it better.” He smiles and steps out, shoes crunching on the snow. He offers his hand and you take it, the two of you gazing at each other before you step out of the TARDIS as well. 

The Doctor nods at you and you hesitantly snap your fingers, a nervous smile on your face. The TARDIS doors close and your smile grows, the Doctor looking at you with a twinkle in his dusted green eyes before he sweeps you up in one of his famous spinny-hugs. You wonder how he’s able to carry you and you’re about to ask, but then you ignore it, realizing that he’ll probably dismiss it to 'Time Lord strength’, which actually sounds pretty stupid, even though you know it’s true.

“You did it!” he says, his tone akin to a proud parent. He sets you down and you stumble in a dizzy daze. “'Third time’s a charm’, as they always say. I don’t really think three’s a lucky number, certainly wasn’t mine, but I might reconsider.”

You open your mouth to respond with a 'thank you’ or a witty remark, but the Doctor has rushed off, and you assume that he’s gone exploring, before you lay eyes on… something.

It’s a brilliant blue wisp of gas, dancing and swirling around before sprouting a jelly-like proboscis with a light on the end. The Doctor breaks into a grin and whips out his sonic yet again, running circles around the thing and scanning it while you slowly and hesitantly approach the gaseous alien. He places his sonic back inside his long, purple coat and reaches out for the proboscis - it flicks out like a cat’s touch before resting on his forehead. 

You jolt forward in shock as soon as the Doctor’s eyes close, but then you jump back when he opens them and they’re filled with a renewed vigor. He tilts his head to the side and gives the blue wisp and meaningful look.

To your surprise, the blue wisp spins in a circle and solidifies into a facsimile of you, and then a question mark.

The Doctor beckons you over. “Hey! S'alright - look!” He taps his forehead. “Psychic link - they talk without words. Come on, Hemi wants to speak with you. He’s made of hydrogen, that shouldn’t be possible, but he’s here.”

“Hemi?” you querie, tilting your head and walking towards him.

“Yeah, that’s his name,” the Doctor says, grinning at Hemi. “He told me, it’s really cool. Hemi’s lonely, he just wants someone to have a little chit-chat with.”

You gaze at Hemi, and it feels like he’s gazing back, even without eyes. His proboscis flicks out again, and you flinch, but the Doctor looks at you expectantly - you don’t want to disappoint him. Hemi’s proboscis gently lays itself on your forehead, and you suck in a breath. This is gonna be bad.

A flash of white clouds your vision and you instinctively close your eyes, a flood of memories rushing over your mind - they must be the Doctor’s - there’s Rose, Amy, planets, adventure, and of course the pain, the pain that he keeps hidden under a bubbly façade -

Never mind. Not that bad at all, actually. No.

The Doctor faintly calls out your name and you pop open your eyes. Hemi is still staring at you and everything is… clearer, somehow. The Doctor takes your face in his hands and looks you up and down, his eyes like sonic screwdrivers minus the buzzing. You wonder why it buzzes. You know it’s not a weird thing, but it still unnerves you sometimes. 

When your gaze finally meets his, he smiles and pulls you into a hug, which you gladly return. You’d love to stay in a hug for a long time when you hear a tinny voice in the back of your mind say, Um, excuse me? I have something to say.

You stop and the Doctor pulls away from you, then winks at you with a smirk - what a git. You wonder if that’s you thinking it or Hemi thinking it, until you finally come to the conclusion that it’s you and you hope to all the deities in the universe he didn’t hear you. 

Hey, don’t worry. The Doctor can be a massive flirt when he wants to. Hemi. You squint at him and he takes the form of a young woman in a small dress and goofy trainers before dispersing into gas again. What’s the word for total screaming genius that sounds modest and just a tiny bit sexy? She asked that. He replied with his name.

“Can -” You pause and swallow. Can he hear us? The Doctor, I mean.

Hemi swirls around. Nope. 

So, you think, just like private messaging?

Hemi turns into a question mark. What’s that?

Never mind. You glance at the Doctor and he smiles at you again. You’d think you gave him free fish fingers and custard the way he smiles at you all the time. So… Can we share conversations? Me and the Doctor.

No, not yet. Hemi’s voice has gotten higher somehow. He has to give you a psychic link first. So for now, it’s more of a me-you and me-him thing, not me-you-him. He’s a unique one, that Time Lord. Last of his kind, or so he thinks.

He says that quite a lot. The Doctor is frowning at you now. Was Hemi lying? Could the Doctor hear what you were talking about? A shiver runs down your spine. So… What planet is this?

Hemi gives off a soothing aura. I have no idea. It isn’t named, so… I try. I’m not that creative. He changes into a ball, his proboscis swinging around. I wish someone would come over here and name it.

Do you have anyone else with you? Family? You sit down on the snow and Hemi lowers himself, still hovering and a ball. 

Yeah, but they don’t care much for me, so I walk around a bunch. Hemi sighs - or what sound sounds like a sigh. Our kind doesn’t have names. Or a concept of them. I named myself. So they started ignoring me because they didn’t agree with the way I named myself.

I’m sorry, you think, somewhat unhelpfully. Hemi bobs and then forms into a copy of the Doctor. Hemi-Doctor tilts his head to the side and gives you that same meaningful look - and then he dissolves into a flurry of blue with a swinging proboscis. 

You love him, Hemi broadcasts to you. You love him, even though I have no idea what that means. I’ve seen it. It’s such a strong emotion. Hemi shivers, and you stand up. You love him. When will you tell him?

I don’t know. You sigh and shake the dust off your leggings. I don’t know.

“Doctor?” you call, and the Doctor turns to you, his hands clasped behind his back. “Thank you.”

The Doctor’s mouth forms into an astonished 'o’, and then he smiles. 

“You’re very welcome.”

“So what do we name the planet?” you ask, snow falling on your hair and forming a white wreath. The Doctor shrugs. You laugh - of course he’d have no idea how to name the planet. He wasn’t a namer, he was an observer. A very involved observer.

You lay your head on his arm and he wraps his arm around your shoulders. Hemi watches you two and copies you, then disperses out into the dark sky. 

Thank you, you hear Hemi say, and you know that the Doctor can hear it too. I best be going now.

Bye, Hemi.

As you’re walking back to the TARDIS, the Doctor plants a kiss on your forehead. You ponder on Hemi’s words for a second and then smile, albeit a bit nervously. 

Yeah, you love him. You don’t dare to tell him though. He probably doesn’t feel the same way anyway. Probably. Or… well, probably.

You’re already resting on your bed in your room when everything goes dark.

Off to another adventure.

This is really just a cute fic. I am always up for some pining. No, really, pining is my favorite thing, and this is some realistic pining we have here with a very nice, subtle tease at the idea that the pining might be mutual. There were some very minor grammatical and spelling errors, but I once submitted a professional report with the word 'threw’ instead of 'through’, so I understand how that goes. The story might be a bit complicated for an imagine, but we can chalk this up to a whole lot of creativity trying to force itself onto the page. And, yes, this is very creative, and points can be given for the character of “Hemi,” who is both cute and a convincing alien.


It’s time to Pokemon D-D-D-D-Duel

No, we’re not getting that long overdue Pokemon TCG sequel. We’re getting a Pokemon game on mobile devices. The game is free to download on the iOS App and Google Play for free with in-app purchases. A few details:

  • By strategically assembling their team of six Pokémon, each with its own strengths and a set number of steps it can take, players can take different routes to rush toward the goal or block the opponent’s Pokémon from advancing.
  • When two Pokémon from opposing teams meet, a battle commences, and the players spin each Pokémon’s Data Disk to see which Attack each Pokémon will use.
  • In addition to moving Pokémon and battling, players will also be able to use a plate at the start of their turn. These plates have various effects, including swapping positions of Pokémon in play and giving their Pokémon various battle enhancements for that turn.
  • The player who reaches their goal first wins the duel.

Today is full of surprises. Pokemon Duel is available for download now on App Store and Google Play. Check out the launch trailer here.

We humans only live on average, 60-70 years. We’re floating through an airless, frozen vacuum while spinning around a giant ball of fire, swirling around a massive black hole along with a 100,000 other stars inside a spinning galactic disk, one of hundreds of billions of other spinning galactic disks along a giant, cosmic web. Our lives are so fragile and so infinitesimal, but we’re lucky enough to exist in the golden age of our universe. Yet we’re still squabbling and fighting over stupid shit like skin color, gender, sexuality, and religion.

Humanity needs to get the fuck over itself.

Artwork- Yanka-arts-n-crafts

Silver is the disk she spins,

Watchful is her knowing stare,

Listen to the wisdom she sings,

Her song is one both harsh and fair.


Watchful is her knowing stare,

She calls when you cannot hear,

Her song is one both harsh and fair.

She is with you when you are not near.


She calls when you cannot hear,

Her cry is a caw, fierce I s her howl,

She is with you when you are not near,

Her wings take flight, her form an owl.


Her cry is a caw, fierce is her howl,

Listen to the wisdom she sings,

Her wings take flight, her form an owl.

Silver is the disk she spins.




Euler’s Disk (pronunciado “Oiler’s Disk”), de movimiento hipnótico y aparentemente interminable.


Request where the reader watches cartoons on breaks and days off (Bee and Puppycat, baman piderman) to get rid of nightmares and triggers of her job, soon she recruits everyone to watch, Spencer first ( even JJ and Henry, Hotch and Jack.) Big cuddles

This is a cute idea!  I will be using different cartoons, mostly ones that I’m familiar with, but I hope you enjoy your story nonetheless, because here it is, comin’ ‘atcha!

Throwing the door open to your apartment, you drop your go-bag at your feet as you jump, shaking your coat off as your breathing begins to pick up.  You felt your temperature rising and your legs were already beginning to shake.

It had been a long case.  13 days from home was enough to drive anyone insane, but when you were exactly what the unsub was looking for, looking over your shoulder became exhausting and paranoia-inducing.

And that’s not always the greatest combination for someone struggling with anxiety.

Dashing over to your television set-up, you throw open a drawer as you dig through, finding the self-made disk with hours of cartoon videos on it.  Mashing buttons on your DVD player as it finally springs to life, your trembling fingers shove the DVD into the slot as you lay back onto the floor, the whirring of the disk spinning in its cage settling your nerves as the TV begins to glare into the dark room, the sound of the Tom and Jerry theme song striking up as a relieved smile begins to creep across your cheeks.


Your favorite childhood memories.

The things you set alarms for on Saturday mornings before scrambling to make yourself a bowl of cereal.


That was a good idea.

Rising to your feet as you head into your kitchen, you throw open your cabinet dedicated to your sugary addiction as your fingers drift over the boxes before settling on the oh-so-delicious Reese’s Pieces.

You were feeling a barrel tumbler.

Grasping your gigantic to-go cup, you pour the cereal into it as it clinks on the sides, the smell of the peanut-butter and chocolate-y mix causing your mouth to water as you place the box down before heading to the fridge and throwing it open for the milk.

And much to your dismay, there was absolutely no milk.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, slamming the door as you feel the tears brewing behind your eyes.

Charging into the TV room as you pick up the remote and jam the pause button, you grab your keys as tears spring to your eyes, your breathing picking back up as your hands begin to shake.

You just…needed…milk.


Throwing your sunglasses on at 8 o’clock at night, you barge into the grocery store as you make a beeline for the milk in the back, making a mental note to grab two gallons instead of only one.

Wrenching the door open as you thrust your hands into the refrigerated enclosure, you hear a rough, familiar voice emanate from behind you.


Whipping around as your eyes widen behind your sunglasses, you hold two gallons of milk at your sides as your boss and his son stare at you, confusion wafting across both of their faces.

“You alright?” Hotch asks.

Nodding slowly, you lift the gallons of milk as you say, “Needed more milk for my cereal.”

Your voice cracked at the tail end, much to your disappointment.

And you could tell by your boss’s face that he caught it.

“Cereal for dinner?” he asks, his eyebrows stitching closer together.

“Mhm,” you murmur, lowering them to your sides, “cereal and cartoons.”

“Cartoons!” Jack exclaims, “Daddy, can we go watch cartoons at her house?”

The sentiment made your cheek twitch lightly with a grin.

“No son, I’m sure that Miss Y/L/N doesn’t want to be bothered right now…” he meanders off, his eyes side-glancing you as you take in a sharp breath through your nose.

“If it’s alright with your father, then it’s alright with me.  But rest assured, the only thing I have to eat right now is cereal,” you say, your sunglasses slipping down the bridge of your nose just long enough for Hotch to catch your reddened, puffy eyes.

Damn it.

“Cereal for dinner sounds awesome!” Henry interjects, running around the corner as the two boys embrace each other, with J.J. and Spencer close on his heels.

“Oh, hey guys!” Spencer breathes as you whip your head to him.

“Needed milk, I see?” he says, throwing you a little smirk as your face hardens again.

You felt your breathing slowly begin to pick up again.

“Y/N?” J.J. asks.

You felt your head begin to buzz.

You needed to get home.

You needed to decompress.

You needed to be able to breathe again.

“Miss Y/N?” Jack asks as you clench your jaw and swallow deep.

“Whoever wants cereal and cartoons is more than welcome at my apartment, but please you guys…I gotta get out of here.”

And with that, you pushed through the overwhelming crowd growing as you scurry to the counter, your tears slipping underneath your sunglasses as you throw a $10 dollar bill at the cashier and grab your milk, jogging quickly out of the grocery store as you leave your team and their kids in the dust, confusion and worry spread across their faces.


Leaving your door wide open as you run into your kitchen, you throw open your fridge as you toss one gallon into the door and sling the other up onto the counter.

Your anxiety was running high, and you could barely get the top off of the milk.

Feeling your glasses slip the rest of the way off of your nose, they clatter to your feet as the tears continue to pour down your face, your hand slipping as the cap to the gallon of milk goes crashing to the ground, rolling away as your eyes dart for it frantically.

You hadn’t even realized that everyone from the grocery store had pulled up, parked, and come through your front door.

“Hey kids,” Spencer coos as he dips down in front of Jack and Henry, “why don’t you guys go press play on the cartoons?  We will bring you guys your cereal.”

“Ok,” Henry says, going in search of the remote as Jack follows suit.

Picking it up in your trembling fingers as your vision begins to tunnel, your hand outstretches to grasp the wall as you try to pull in big, long breaths.

Until you heard the sound of Tom and Jerry rolling in the background.

Slowly rolling your eyes over towards the sound, you see Hotch, Spencer, and J.J. taking close stock of you, your swollen face and your red-rimmed eyes giving away your anxiety as you slowly rise up, rolling your shoulders back a you clear your throat.

“Um…bowls are, are up here,” you say as you point beside you, “and that cabinet right there,” you continue as you move your finger in front of you, “is filled with the cereals.”

Walking towards your huge tumbler of cereal as you reach for the gallon of milk, your unsteady hand begins to drop it as Hotch comes rushing to your side, grasping it before it can hit the floor as tears begin to pour from your eyes once more.

“We’ve got this,” J.J. coos, grasping your shoulders as she pushes you slowly towards Spencer, “we can bring in everyone’s cereal as we get it ready.”

Feeling Spencer take your hands, his worried eyes running over your body, he slowly leads you into the room as the sounds of the Rugrats theme song wafts through your ears, along with the belly-laughter of two beautifully naive little boys.

You wanted them to stay that way forever.

Feeling Spencer sit you down on the couch, you feel him sit beside you, his leg propping up and pressing into the back of the couch as he puts his arms up under yours, pulling you to him as he holds you close.

“Just breathe…” he murmurs lowly, his hands stroking your arms as the trembling in your body slowly dissipates.

“Who wants cereal!?” J.J. taunts, coming into the room with bowls for the boys as they squeal with delight.

“Best dinner ever!” Henry says as he takes the bowl from his mom.

“Thanks, kid,” she mocks, rolling her eyes as a grin spreads across your cheeks.

“Here, Reid,” Hotch says, handing him a bowl as you sit up slightly.

“And for the big kid…” Hotch says, his eyes dancing across you softly as he hands you your tumblr.

“Wow!  That’s a really big bowl,” Jack says.

“Well, I have a really big tummy,” you say, winking at the boy as he giggles.

“Oo!  Oo!  Oo!” Henry exclaims as he points at the TV, “Bugs Bunny!”

“Yeah!” Jack exclaims.

“You’re the coolest, Miss Y/N!” Henry yelps as he begins to munch on his cereal.

You felt your smile broaden as you watch J.J. take up residence with the boys on the opposite couch.

“Mind if I sit?” Hotch asks, motioning to the cushion that your legs were covering as you raise your eyes to him.

Raising your legs, you curl them towards you as he sits, balancing his bowl of cereal in his hand as he drops down before ushering to your legs.

“Come on,” he says, patting his lap as you tentatively lower your legs back onto him.

Turning your perplexed gaze back to the screen, you laugh along with the boys as you feel Spencer chuckle behind you, a smile gracing both J.J. and Hotch’s faces as everyone munches on their cereal, their eyes glued to the television screen.

Drinking your milk from your tumbler as J.J. begins to gather the boys’ empty bowls, you try to wave her off as she locks her eyes with you.

“I’ve got it,” she enunciates.

“Is this how you unwind from cases?” Spencer asks as you cock your head back to look at him.

“Just the rough ones,” you say, slowly turning your head to the forefront as you feel Hotch’s stare permeate your face.

“Are you alright?” he asks, his hand mindlessly caressing your legs on his lap as you try desperately to blink back tears.

“A few more cartoons and I’ll be ready for bed,” you snicker, swallowing hard as you clench your jaw.

“Doggy pile!” you hear the boys scream, jumping up and flopping down onto you as you laugh, your hands flying everywhere as you tickle the boys.

“Biiiiiiiiig mistake!” you roar, a smile encompassing your face as J.J. gets in on the tickle action.

“We’ve got you pinned now!” she yelps.

“I surrender!  I surrender!” Jack exclaims breathlessly, his face red as he holds his hands to his stomach.

“We give up!” Henry pants.

“Can we watch a few more, Miss Y/N?” Jack asks, his eyes pleading as you cup his sweaty face in your hands.

“You guys like Power Rangers?” you ask, a smile spreading across your face.

“Yeah!” the both exclaim.

“Do you like Power Rangers?” Hotch asks, his eyebrow cocked in the air as you giggle lightly.

“Yep,” you say, popping the “p” as you reach for the remote.

And as the boys sit on the floor in front of the couch, with J.J. in the middle as she wraps her arms around them both, the group of you watch through three episodes before the boys’ eyes start to droop.

“Looks like you guys nee a bed,” J.J. coos, her hands rubbing their backs as they shake their heads lazily.

“We’re not tired…” Henry trails off.

“Speak for yourself…” Jack lulls.

You felt Spencer’s stomach jump behind you as he chuckled at the boys.

“We better get these guys home,” Hotch says, patting your legs as you slowly rear them up.

“Thank you so much for having us,” J.J. says, smiling kindly at you as she picks Henry up in her arms.

“You gonna be alright?” Hotch asks, picking up Jack as his eyes connect with yours.

“I’m always alright,” you muse, throwing him a tired smile as he scolds you silently.

“I know, I know…” you trail off, feeling your own eyes begin to lazily drop closed as Spencer pulls you ever so closer to him.

“You comin’, Reid?” J.J. asks as they open your front door.

“I’m gonna catch a couple more, just to make sure she’s alright,” he says, his hand coming up to smooth down your hair as his other arm holds your stomach tight.

“Alright,” Hotch says, smiling lightly as he ushers everyone out the door, closing the door behind him as Spencer hears it click.

“Wanna turn it back to Bugs Bunny?” Spencer asks, turning his attention back to you as he reaches for the remote in your lap.

But your chest was rising and falling, and your eyes were screwed tightly shut.

And as Spencer smiles lightly, his body wiggling as he slowly shifts himself down onto the couch, he scrolls through and begins playing the Bugs Bunny cartoons as he grabs the blanket off of the back of the couch, spreading it over the two of you as he holds you close to him in his arm.

“Bugs Bunny it is,” he whispers.

So as I was studying for my Astronomy final...

I was reviewing notes on how the universe had formed according to the nebular theory, and I came across the term “nebulae”.

For those of who you don’t know, new solar systems are found forming in nebulae, which are chambers where gas and dust begin to accrete and heat up, starting the initial formation process for a solar system. 

The term nebulae, a chamber for gas and dust, sounded extremely familiar. That’s when I had REALIZED

“Nebby” sounded short for nebulae, and cosmog bared the resemblance well to the description for a stellar nursery.
To support this, according to serebii, Cosmog is known as the “Nebula” Pokémon, and its Pokédex entry is, 

Molecular clouds form in nebulae, and as these structures gravitationally collapse on themselves, they begin to form a spinning disk. This disk increases speed until the materials begin to heat up in the center, eventually forming a proto-planetary disk orbiting around a protostar.

To which then I had found Cosmoem is known as the “Protostar” Pokémon, with the entry, 

Then after a relatively short period of time, the satellites and planets in the system clear their surrounding neighborhoods, and become as they are seen as as today. The star they are orbiting starts nuclear fusion, and THUS a Solar System is finally born!!!

Despite this being atrociously nerdy, I couldn’t help but admire the fact that the idea behind creation for these Pokémon LITERALLY were inspired by the nebular theory and how Solar Systems are BORN!!  Which is incredible to think about!!