the germs forming

Mae is Mentally Ill and (a) God is (Probably) Real

ok a thing I keep seeing on Steam discussion boards and in general is people saying Mae isn’t a) mentally ill and/or b) experiencing supernatural phenomena. so let’s fucking break it down

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Reconstructing life at its beginning, cell by cell

After 13 rapid divisions a fertilized fly egg consists of about 6,000 cells. They all look alike under the microscope. However, each cell of a Drosophila melanogaster embryo already knows by then whether it is destined to become a neuron or a muscle cell – or part of the gut, the head, or the tail. Now, Nikolaus Rajewsky’s and Robert Zinzen’s teams at the Berlin Institute of Medical Systems Biology (BIMSB) of the Max Delbrück Center for Molecular Medicine in the Helmholtz Association (MDC) have analyzed the unique gene expression profiles of thousands of single cells and reassembled the embryo from these data using a new spatial mapping algorithm. The result is a virtual fly embryo showing exactly which genes are active where at this point in time. “It is basically a transcriptomic blueprint of early development,” says Robert Zinzen, head of the Systems Biology of Neural Tissue Differentiation Lab. Their paper appears as a First Release in the online issue of Science.

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When he was 17 years old, Darby Crash (born Jan Beahm) developed a five-year plan to become famous: start a band with his friends, make one great album, and the kill himself to secure his legend.

Crash had a troubled childhood and lost several family members, including his older brother (who died from a heroin overdose in 1969, when Darby was 11).

Crash formed the Germs with his friend Georg Ruthenberg (who called himself Pat Smear) in 1976 and released a single the following year. The Germs were known for their violent, chaotic performances, often exacerbated by Crash’s drug abuse, and are captured in the documentary The Decline of Western Civilization (1981).

The Germs released their debut (and only) album in 1979 (produced by Joan Jett) and then disintegrated. Crash left for England and returned and formed the short-lived Darby Crash Band before performing with the reunited Germs on 3 Dec. 1980.

On the night of 7 Dec. 1980, the 22-year-old Crash fulfilled his 5-year-plan with a suicide pact with his girlfriend, by taking a lethal dose of heroin. His girlfriend survived. Crash was convinced that his suicide would be headline news and make him famous. His death, however, was quickly overshadowed by John Lennon’s murder the next day.

Costume rehearsal (Part two).

@doctor-anxiety: could I request a spencer Reid x reader friendship one where the reader works in a theatre as an actor/actress and is besties with Spencer (he could have a crush or something, whatever seems fitting) but he doesn’t want to tell the BAU about them in case they tease him, but like they end up finding out after following him to the theatre or something? Sorry thats such a long description :/

Part 1

Originally posted by sweetg

Reid’s anxious gaze was glued to the floor, playing nervously with his fingers as his team members wandered over to the pair. Y/N stared at the tense doctor, guilt attacking her brain while she mentally prepared herself for the teasing.

“Hey, pretty boy.” Derek smirked, dark eyes flickering between the two timorous forms.

“I-I thought y-you were with David,” Spencer stammered, still avoiding Derek’s intimidating eye contact as his complex mind became clouded with taunting memories from bullies teasing him in school.

“He is,” David’s warm voice announced as he proudly smiled at the guilt-ridden actress who shuffled nervously. “David Rossi.” He introduced himself, holding out his large hand to shake hers but she hesitantly declined.

“A-actually, I-” Her voice evidently shook but before she could explain herself, Spencer took in her slightly shaking form.

“Germs.” He muttered, knowing the team would understand her miniscule action. At the word, Derek smirked as he frowned at the timid, young woman.

“Really? It sure as hell didn’t look like-” But before the muscular man could finish his smug remark, Y/N’s confidence grew as she recognised him to be the man that Spencer feared would tease him.

“In fact, it’s actually much safer to k-kiss because out hands l-lack antibacterial-” Y/N rambled, trying to help the situation but instead dug herself a deeper hole.

“Y/N,” Spencer muttered, observing Derek’s growing smile as she rambled. In effect, Y/N halted, bowing her head apologetically.

“Right…Sorry,” she mumbled, looking up to meet his gentle eyes, “I’m just going to go get ready.” Spencer silently nodded as she stumbled backstage.

“So..” Derek began, a small chuckle escaping his throat. Spencer looked up at him, feeling more at ease standing up to him.

“Please don’t.” Spencer pleaded, eyes scanning over to five of them, girls hidden behind Derek and David.

“Why didn’t you introduce us before?” JJ softly questioned, warm eyes encouraging him. Spencer searched his pounding mind for the right words.

“I-you,” he stuttered, feeling their eyes burning into him.

“Breathe, we’re your friends.” JJ comforted, stepping closer to the trembling man.

“I, um, thought you would all tease me, w-we’re just friends.” He quickly admitted as Derek’s face dropped slightly, realising that he lived up to the doctors expectations.

“I’m sorry, kid.” Derek apologised in a hushed tone causing Spencer to nod, a small smile on his lips.

“Spence, after that you have to know you’re not just going to be friends.” JJ giggled, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder as he blushed slightly.

“T-things like that don’t happen to people like me.” He whispered, glancing down at the floor.

“Do you like her?” JJ questioned softly, piecing together his subtle actions over the past couple of weeks.

“She’s the most beautiful girl in the world,” He continued whispering, admitting this to himself for the first time.

“Ask her over to mine.” David announced, eyes glistening at the young doctor.

“W-what?” Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed but he was quickly interrupted to Y/N walking up behind him, costume off but capturing the glowing eye’s of Spencer.

“Um, Y/N w-would you like to come t-to David’s with us?” Spencer stumbled, fingers aimlessly playing with the hem of his shirt to calm his nerves. Y/N’s stomach flipped as butterflies fluttered.

“If that’s okay, then sure.” She quietly spoke, glancing over at the older man who nodded at her with a wide grin. In response, Y/N smiled gently as Spencer’s team members walked off in front. Suddenly, Spencer felt the warm brush of Y/N’s lips against his cheek, he closed his eyes briefly as a gentle smile grew on his face. He glanced up at her, nerves vanishing as he slowly interlaced his slender fingers with hers.

“Come on,” he whispered, walking out of the empty theatre.


anonymous asked:

what dont you like about state and revolution?

using engels to talk about marx as if they’re identical thinkers is always pretty annoying. he also seems to be quoting one or the other and then trying to draw out a particular meaning from their word choice which doesn’t always necessarily follow so there are some leaps that i’m not sure are actually there.

the marxological stuff in chapter 3 is pretty fun (that’s where i’m at now) but it’s also very typical of a lot of soviet thinking and sorta expects the reader to be in the middle of the kautsky drama and the russian revolution, not reading it 100 years later in english and totally out of context (or with all the knowledge we have now of marx’s other works before and after these pieces which lenin refers to), which is why i don’t quite get the contemporary appeal. this reads like a good propaganda piece for a worker-peasant alliance, but i don’t really care about being convinced of that so it’s just not doing much for me. just strikes me as pretty crude in a lot of places tbh.

also a lot has been made of lenin’s point about ‘the only “correction” marx thought it necessary to make to the communist manifeso’, but i think this isn’t terribly important tbh. marx changed his mind on a lot that’s in the manifesto; things that he was often vocal about whether he ever explicitly contrasted his later views with his earlier ones in the manifesto or not. in fact, i just answered an ask a bit ago with a link to a speech where he suggested one of his own planks in the manifesto would be a “reactionary” demand.

i also think the 1882 preface to the russian edition hints at a huge change in marx’s thinking (often ignored or downplayed by early 20th century russian socialists for some reason) which reads as a sort of criticism of the manifesto’s general historical thrust. apparently this doesn’t count as a correction, and the fact that he changed his mind on so many things that he believed in the 1840s doesn’t really matter.

instead, lenin talks about the 18th brumaire, in which “marxism takes a tremendous step forward compared with the communist manifesto”. for lenin, it seems like marx’s “marxism” is always there in germ form and filling out logically, taking steps forward rather than constantly readjusting and correcting itself (other than the single correction he notes, of course). i don’t think that’s an adequate view of marx’s intellectual development, but i also think it’s important to remember how much more we now know about marx’s development than lenin ever could’ve. hard to blame him for a lot of this, but it does highlight problems which were fairly common at the time i think and led to dogmatic treatments of marx and engels.

About loneliness and faked anger

Not quite satisfied with this smut :c But we get KaguOki here


                                             Chains & Whips

It had been six months since they married and it wasn’t going as well as they thought it would be.

Okita often came late at home, depending on how many crazy drunkard he would meet during his night shift, or which mission he was charged to accomplish by Hijikata and he couldn’t even soothe himself with a loving wife to cuddle in the bed after a tiring day of work. Kagura was too independent, she was an alien-hunter and sometimes left him for one or two weeks alone while she was somewhere in space, kicking aliens asses. He couldn’t blame her, though, she wasn’t some trophy wife who would wait for him to return safely at home, it would have been too mentally straining for her too and he knew it from the start.

Yet he couldn’t bring himself to admit how he was beginning to miss her, his wife took a particularly difficult request, this time, it’s been one month since he had last seen her. Of course, he didn’t tell her how he was really feeling about it for him had a huge ego and pride that sometimes bring out the worst of him, like the day she decided to accept the request. He was lifeless in the living room, just some days afterward and until now. The lack of decorations in the room— neither of them bought any, they hadn’t the time for such frivol activity— made it all but more depressing to him. Slouched on the black couch, his eyes were on the comedy TV show in front of him, without really watching it.

Her last letter dated from a week ago. She talked about outer space, of spaceships and dangerous creatures but never said a word about missing him, he felt slightly hurt and hoped deep inside that it was just out of pride or embarrassment, like himself. Their characters were similar, portraying the same flaw who get in their ways, he laughed ruefully at himself. Oh, how miserable he could be when it was about her. China had always been his soft spot.

She made his head spin when they were younger, now it was his mind that was spinning.

A sigh escaped his mouth upon noticing the hour, midnight. He should go to sleep already, but he never did these days, no matter how early he must wake up the morrow, there was still a flame of hope that a redhead would enter lazily with a grin, kiss him and cover him of affections (and germs). His stomach formed a knock, this would be totally out-of-character, approaching zero percent of chance of happening. A man could dream, right?

His eyes shifted to the TV, as if some entity was making fun of him, there was a lovely couple in the show. It was for the humor, they were disgustingly lovey-dovey, vomited PDA— how much he craved for it.

With days of eating, alone, watching TV, alone…There was anything more than China he needed right now, for her presence to color his world, the solace he was seeking right now. Okita rolled his eyes at his thought, who’d have thought that the rival he had bickered with so often became his ultimate weakness, or even more, a need akin to eating or drinking.

“Ah— what the hell had this bitch done to me? I sound like Kondo-san weeping for boss lady,” he closed his eyes, everything was so silent, so un-China like… “Wait.” Footsteps resonated from the entry, after a tingling sound of keys, they closed the distance progressively.

“Bitch? Is that how you call your hard-working wife, Sadist?” Her tone was obviously amused by her husband’s monolog, god bless her hearing far more powerful than an average human’s one, she could already him through the door. Well, it was not like their flat was soundproof either, she had occasions to test the walls to its limit. “You softened up, I see, your eighteen-self would feel ashamed,” her hands slid around his neck, Kagura had swiftly joined him, standing behind him and the couch.

“Whose faults is it?”

She feigned being hurt. “Oh, and now you’re blaming me for it? I have to earn money too, you know.”

Okita didn’t budge, raising an eyebrow, “My income is enough to cover both of us, even with your monster appetite,” he had repeated it over and over, Kagura never listened, she wanted to work too and be able to take care of herself. Edo’s culture, for the woman to stay at home, do the housework and keep the children couldn’t possibly apply to her, this alien who made him feel damn lonely.

“Awww, poor Souichiro is sad.” She turned, plopped on the couch— or to be more precise, on his laps— and hungrily claimed his mouth. She enjoyed the warmth of his mouth, of her lips pressing into his chapped one, Edo’s winter could be really harsh, she licked them to both soothe and seducing him into giving. When he finally opened, her tongue started to roam the interior of his mouth, painfully slowly on the spite of the earlier surge, she smirked against his mouth? Okita was hungry— he forcefully tried to pull her in a dominance battle while she continued her gentle ministration— it made all but more interesting. This charade played until they were breathless, their chests inflating and deflating simultaneously as their gaze met in a long stare.

He was the first one to talk afterward.“Did you miss me too?” She had caught him by surprise, for her sudden adrenalin and display of lust, usually, it would be him lusting over her.

“Surprise surprise, yes.” her forehead fell against his, their noses touching each other’s summit, their breath mingled.  “Of course, I would, idiot, I was doing my best to eliminate those weird aliens. I love space, but even more the Earth.” She planted a sloppy kiss on cheeks, lowered to his neck until finding the spot to make him groan, around his throat. She was going to demonstrate how much she had missed him. Her eyes glinted in mischief as she started a love-bite, sucked his skin to mark him, first, he was hers for today. When he raised his hand to her caress her thighs, Kagura stopped him, making him groan. “No—no, since you called your dear wife a bitch, I’ll have to at least make this statement true. You’re going to be an M tonight.”

“Wha-” Before he could even end his sentence, the female used her blessed strength to straddle him—

Click. “What the fuck are you trying to pull, China?” His hands were blocked in a cold metal— handcuffs with chains. He was groaning, it didn’t go as expected…Even if he felt a part of him twitch after her oh-so-shameless smile.

“I got it from the trip, for once I think I’ll try your SM fetish so shh and don’t thrash for nothing, I’m going to make it a good time,” her fingers traveled further south to strip him from his usual Shinsengumi vest, cravat, and shirt. The garments were thrown to the floor but neither cared at the moment, Okita wasn’t one to complain when his wife was up to some sexy time. He had missed this side of a couple too.

However, he had to let out a gasp when he felt her hand skimming his neither area. He was already hard, it hurt his pride but Kagura affected him so much, in many ways.

After leaving a trail of purple stains on his skin, she gazed him, eyes half-lidded, as her fingers traced his muscles, Yato women appreciate well-built men and her companion’s ones were perfect. Being an officer, Sougo was positively trimmed, he was a damn god and she was enjoying it very much right now. Her back leaned if there was an area— that was not his sex— pleasurable enough to make him lose his deadpan demeanor, that would be the two nubs of his chest.

Women rarely paid them any attention, but they could very arousing for some males which included him. She found out it quickly, after brushing, wondering why would men have nipples when they didn’t really need it, the sharp intake of breath was all she needed to use it more regularly.

She rolled the pleasure spot between her fingers with one hand, eliciting a moan from him, but this was enough for her to gain extra confidence. Seeing him in a vulnerable state, squinting his eyes as he tried to let out as few sounds as possible, made her feel warm in her lower stomach. This was better than what she had imagined and planned for her return.

“Fuck—” He had to cry out when her silky, small hand stroked his length teasingly, he wanted her already. “Kagura. Now. Please.” He wasn’t one to be dominated and plead, today was an exception to the rule. It was not totally humiliating to be an M, Sougo thought, it was even…Kind of erotic to have her dominating.

I’ll never tell her, though.

She locked gaze with him once again, hummed in satisfaction and almost ripped off his pant and undergarment, letting his length spring in her view. However, instead of going ‘on top’, she pulled him back to a sitting position. “No, not yet, Sougo.” Her fingers wrapped around his shaft, moving up and down as she licked the head— she shivered— swirled her tongue, drove him mad.

His whole body stiffened as she took him completely, her head thrust furiously at him, his vision blackened and his mind blanked when he came, even dripping out of her mouth. A month earlier he would be able to control himself better, but it wasn’t possible now, after being deprived of her.

The sight of her swallowing it in one gulp made his other head twitch again.

“That’s only the start,” Kagura finally released his hands from the handcuffs, pushing his shoulders to make him fall again, and undress in front of him, never leaving his eye— this woman would be the end of him, one day— her white Qipao, as well as her bra and panties were soon removed. Okita half-cursed on how good she looked, a familiar warmth pooled in the pit of his stomach.

He gulped in anticipation at what his wife was going to do, this night, Yato have great stamina, you know?

With his hands freed, he felt her breasts, how soft they were, wanting to draw a mewl from her. She grinded, rubbed against his length, she was wet enough but he took his time in pleasuring her too. He could equal her in term of sadism, which was precisely why they were considered to be ‘a match made from Heaven and Hell’. His hands retracted her body, the sharp angle of her waist rounded by her hips and bosom— which was in the care of his mouth right now— her skin smooth and pearly as always. Okita was glad to have her, really, burning her flushed state in his mind.

She suddenly wrapped her arms around his neck “P-Please, Sougo….?” she finally uttered the word he had been yearning to hear. She cut him before he could move, “I want to be on top, this time.”  Her eyes dueled his until he gave up and tried to help her, providing some support as she plunged herself.

“Ka…Gura”, he moaned, she was so damn tight. Always so damn tight and warm that it made it very hard for him to grasp any semblance of control right now. His hands remained on her hips as she started to rock up and down, her mouth slightly agape. Defenseless. He captured them, wondering how the hell she was still able to be the one leading the dance, she always surprises me.

Sex was yet another battle he liked to indulge himself into, against China only.

She rode him hard, their breath and perspiration mingled yet again, their restrained moan and grunt mixed with shared lust, another gasp and Kagura felt herself orgasm, collapsing on him, only for her to be shifted— he was now behind her and she on her stomach as he had his ways. She had obtained her own gratification  but he didn’t yet.

A few more thrusts and he filled her with his seed as he called her name. He slowly retired from her to hug her petite figure, face reddened by the recent activities, and gave to her supple cheek a small peck out of adoration. “That was amazing, but don’t leave for so long now.”

She chuckled, turning around to see his content face more clearly, “I definitely won’t accept this kind of request again, those space cockroaches were horrible.” She had never been fond of this insect, and they were bigger (gigantic) and gross on an alien planet. “We have to clean the couch and…Take a shower, too. I’m too tired!”

“Who’s complaining when you were the one to initiate this?” He laughed, but didn’t let her go from his embrace, they were a mess now. “Well, I’ll clean it thoroughly tomorrow and promise, we’ll sleep soon,” he threw her a wicked grin. “But not before I clean you equally thoroughly first, Ka~Gu~Ra. That’s for making me, the prince of Sadist, an M even if it was very much enjoyable.”

“I hate you, Sadist! Let me go!” She was red again, trying to escape without really the will to abandon his warmth and scent.

“I love you too,” his grin spread further on his sharp face. “I won’t let you go again, anyway, I want a Souichiro in my arms as soon as possible. Prepare yourself, Kagura.


The next day, Kagura found herself very embarrassed as the lady next door was complaining about not being able to sleep yesterday.


Human embryonic stage 9 occurs during week 3 between 19 to 21 days. The embryo is now 1.5 to 2.5 mm in size and somites have begun to form and number between 1 to 3 somite pairs during this stage.

Ectoderm - Neural plate brain region continues to expand, neural plate begins folding over the notochord. Gastrulation continues through the primitive streak region.

Mesoderm - Paraxial mesoderm segmentation into somites begins (1 - 3 somite pairs). Lateral plate mesoderm begins to vacuolate, dividing it into somatic and splanchnic mesoderm and to later form the intra-embryonic coelom. Prechordal splanchnic mesoderm begins to form the cardiogenic region, from which the primordial heart will develop.

Endoderm - Notochordal plate still visible which will form the notochord. Endoderm is still widely open to the yolk sac and germ cells form part of this layer. Extra-embryonic mesoderm on the yolk sac surface begins to form “blood islands”.