I need everyone to know that speedsters are allergic to nanobots.
No, seriously. They're allergic to nanobots.
Speedsters have absolutely insane metabolisms, which means that they have an absolutely insane immune system. They don't get sick. Ever. Their immune system works at warp speed and takes out germs the second they enter their body. Call germs 'the Rogues' because they're getting tackled by super speedy blurs before they can even think about causing issues.
Okay, so they have a great immune system and don't get sick ever. What does this have to do with nanobots?
Great question! When nanobots are injected into a speedster's body their immune system sees them as a threat. Only problem? It doesn't matter how fast or efficient their immune system is, their body can't destroy a bunch of tiny metal robots.
Because their bodies can't fight off the nanobots they start to display typical cold/flu symptoms instead. Vomiting, fever, runny nose, coughing, being tired, ect. The nanobots aren't causing this reaction. Their own immune system causes this reaction. The fever is the bodies attempt to kill off the 'germs'. The vomiting, runny nose and coughing is the body's attempt to expel the 'germs'. They feel tired because their body is putting everything into fighting off the 'infection'.
In a normal person the nanobots wouldn't even be an issue because they'd be able to avoid detection. They can't avoid detection in a speedster body because their immune systems are dialled up to 500 out of 10.
As a result you get instances like this:
(Inertia had injected Bart with nanobots and Bart had a reaction)
Just an FYI for people because this is extremely fun and versatile information. Especially because none of the speedsters are really aware of this and it doesn't kick in right away. I could totally see a situation where a mission requires nanobot injections and mid mission the speedster goes down out of nowhere. It's also great if you want to do a stereotypical sick fic or something and want to get around that pesky speedster immunity.
Anyway, it's fun information so I thought I'd share
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Irondad fic ideas #139
NWH AU where Tony's been in a coma this whole time. He still is. But the world thinks he's dead.
One day, Rhodey is in some science place (maybe SI, maybe a community college where he was giving a speech?) and he sees this kid tinkering who looks exactly like Tony Stark. The teen Tony Stark from when he first met him at MIT. Even down to the mannerisms. He goes up and has a brief conversation with this stranger, just curious. Then he leaves.
Unbeknownst to the kid, Peter, Rhodey managed to grab something for a DNA test. The kid just looked too much like his best friend. Like seeing a ghost
When they analyze the DNA, they learn that this kid is in fact Tony's biological son
Rhodey goes back to find the kid, this time bringing Happy. Peter gets to have the super fun conversation where two people who should know him but don't tell him that the person he saw as a father was his actual father, only it's too late
They convince Peter to come with them eventually. And Peter gets the shock of his entire life
Over the next little while, at Tony's bedside, Peter gets to know Morgan (who he would've seen as a sister anyway but this is insane). He also gets reacquainted with Rhodey, Happy, and Pepper, who all admittedly find him a bit sus with how much he seems to know.
But...this is Tony's kid. His son. So they let him be there, let him talk to Tony and hold his hand.
Finally, finally, Tony wakes up.
And it turns out, being in a coma and thought dead by the entire world, including wizards, makes one exempt from certain magic
Bonus:
As he sits by Tony's bedside, Peter has to grapple with a lot of emotions. One of them is the realization that he was never actually related to Uncle Ben, which makes him feel like his uncle and aunt died for nothing
Pepper helps him through it. Even not knowing him the way she once did, she knows plenty about guilt complexes and chosen family. She assures Peter that he's still a Parker, no matter what, and that his aunt and uncle wouldn't have given him up for the world
Another thing Peter deals with is the fear of Tony waking up and not knowing him. It breaks his heart just thinking about it.
Cue THE most relieving hurt/comfort reunion ever imagined
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being a line cook is insane but people do it anyway
do you want to know the secret to why line cooks stay line cooks?
We're addicted to a certain aspect of the job. A sort of combination of Pride and Power.
See, most of what is going on in that restaurant comes down to you. If the restaurant was a dairy, you'd be the cow, everything is based on what you produce; how much, how fast, and of what quality.
And it's INSANELY hard for most people to do. It requires you to keep mental track of tons of stuff while doing complicated physical creation in a dangerous environment under intense pressure
Any line cooks reading this? let me recreate a moment most of us have had many many times
For the rest of you this will be a nice window into the line cook experience
you have a rail FULL of tickets, and the printer will NOT stop printing more.
You've got a stove FULL of stuff you're cooking, and half of it is for stuff you don't even have a ticket for, because of something on a table that already went out was wrong or missing, or a server forgot to put something on a ticket and needs it in a hurry, or...
the tickets you are working on are for tables that finished their appetizers 45 minutes ago, and it could be an hour before you even get a chance to read whatever the printer is currently printing.
You have a head FULL of stuff you're tracking: how quickly the sauce is thickening in this pan, whether the garlic is about to burn in that pan, how long before you drain the pasta in that pot before it over cooks. As soon as the thing in the oven for table 31 is 5 minutes from done you gotta put the other thing on the flat top to go with it, you're putting together Something on your board and you can't finish it because you need a refill of an ingredient from the walk-in but you can't go get it because if you leave the kitchen you'll burn the thing in the salamander. And you can't plate the thing in salamander yet because the Something you're putting together on your board is taking up all the room you had left in this disaster of a kitchen
Three people have just told you complicated changes to dishes you have to organize and keep in your head. Something like
"24 needs 3 gnocchi not 4, and 2 with no rosemary; 3 needs all 4 gnocchi to have extra rosemary, 2 with no garnish; 22 needs an extra gnocchi extra garnish no rosemary, salads are almost out you can go in 3 or 4 minutes"
The manager, assistant manager, about 8 servers, and a fuckton of people at tables are all waiting on YOU with an impatience bordering on fury.
right? sound familiar? okay that's not the moment, that's just the dinner rush on a night somewhere between bad and average.
The moment happens when, during this insanity, you reach an internal place where you become completely overwhelmed. Panic and frustration and over stimulus all rise up and wipe your brain completely clean. You can't think, you have no idea what to do, you want to run away, you want to quit, you can barely think of your own name, everything feels completely impossible.
And then. The Moment
You pull it back together.
You stop being overwhelmed, you stop panicking, you insist that it IS possible, and that you are going to do it. You decide what has to happen and you start. You clear all the clutter you can from your kitchen. You pull all your tickets as far down the rail as possible and scan through the tickets on the printer so you have an idea of how things are going to go. You write down a couple of times on tickets that you would usually keep in your head but you need the brain space. You group the tickets according to not only time but what dishes they have in common so you can do batches of things. You decide if you can just get these two things out of your way you'll be in a much better position and so you concentrate on getting those two things cooked and plated. You beg the dishwasher to grab you the thing you need from the walk-in. You call your assistant manager or manager into the kitchen and you tell them you need them to start you 8 gnocchis: 3 no rosemary one extra garnish, 4 extra rosemary two no garnish, and one normal.
Right? Okay so first of all, as you can see... The job is INSANE
and second of all. Not everybody is capable of that Moment. The moment you stare already-existing catastrophic failure in the face and tell it No. That moment.
and you have to be capable of that moment if you want to be a line cook.
Which means pretty close to zero other people in that restaurant can do what you can do.
So now let me tell you a story.
I was 19 years old. I was a line cook at an italian joint. We're slammed off our ass one night, and the manager is in the little galley kitchen with me, and he's just standing there because he isn't good enough to not be in the way if he tries to help
and he's over my should about everything, telling me to drain that more or turn the heat down on this etc.
Finally, I stop completely, look him dead in the eye, and say "Tony, i'm not cooking another thing until you leave this kitchen."
I'm 19. Ive worked here six months. Tony is twice my age and married to the owner's daughter. There is a heavy pause.
Then Tony turns around and walks out of the kitchen.
What's he going to do, send me home? Zero other people in this restaurant can do the thing that makes it a restaurant. If i go home the customers are going home too.
And that's the real reason most line cooks stay line cooks even though the job feels like a war you never win.
It's that interplay of Pride and Power. For those few hours, the restaurant is happening because of you.
That's the power.
For the other part, try pulling a cook off the line during the rush. You can't. Even if they are in the weeds. Maybe even especially if they are in the weeds.
Once i was working with a cook who, in the middle of the dinner rush, sliced is hand open - a cut both deep and wide, pouring blood. No bandage we had was going to be a solution for it.
So he popped a latex glove on that hand, triple wrapped a rubber band around his wrist to keep the blood in, washed with soap, and went right back to cooking.
Because it was the dinner rush and no one else could do the job, and he wasn't coming off that line.
30 minutes in he had to swap gloves because it had filled with blood like a water balloon and was making it hard to cook. Leaving the line was never even a question.
that's the pride
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