Open Hardware month continues, there are over 2,905 open source hardware projects certified, currently Adafruit has 790 certifications, will we hit 800 by Halloween?? SCARY! 🎃👻🕸️🧛♂️🧟♀️🍬😈
Easily search a complete list of OSHWA certified open source hardware.
Day two yo’ - dynamic Duo - except let’s be real - this trio is 🤌🏼 the second photo was heavily referenced bc I’m tired and can’t do dynamic poses or draw hands to save my life.
Lmao I literally referenced the hands and still did Ryan’s hand wrong. I can’t be helped
not all of this is quite canon, but it’s my take on the werewolf curse
dylan pov | 458 words
Today is the single day in a month Dylan dreads the most: the full moon. Sometimes he wonders if this is how girls feel about their periods. It’s not entirely dissimilar, he thinks, from what he’s heard. To always know it’s looming, the aches and pains, the betrayal of your own body.
He doesn’t feel like himself. His… affliction only really affects him at night, but it’s an all day affair. From the time he wakes up, he’s not really in his body. He has control over what he does in the way you have control over a video game. Like he’s watching behind a screen.
He purposefully doesn’t go anywhere, do anything, or see anyone on these days. He doesn’t know what he’ll do. He has to be careful on a normal day–not that it’s difficult to hold back from biting people on a daily basis, unless he’s getting down and dirty–but it’s especially important on full moons because of how out of control he feels.
On these days, all day, and typically the day after as well, he has full body aches. His body becomes so weak. Even if he wanted to go out, he doesn’t know if he could. He just lolls around in his apartment, oscillating between sweating and shaking and trying to distract himself in bed and chugging water on the floor of his kitchen.
Schrodinger hides from him on full moons. Like he knows something is wrong with Dylan, that Dylan can’t be trusted. It’s lonely, but at least he knows Schrodinger is safe.
A little before the sun starts to set, Dylan leaves. The only time he leaves his apartment during the full moon. He goes out into the forest behind his complex and walks and walks until he gets to the spot he picked the first time he came out here. It’s away from all the trails, from streets, from everything. He knows he will stay alone here. He brings a backpack with two water bottles: one that he drinks before he turns, and one for after. He always takes off his clothes and stores them in the backpack overnight. It felt weird to be naked in “public” the first few times, but he’s used to it now. There’s no use ruining his clothes.
It is now that Dylan’s body is least his own. He is so wrought with pain and aching he’s barely conscious. Eventually, from the far away place he is, he feels his skin crawl and crack, he feels his muscles tense as they prepare for what happens to them, he feels his bones realign. It happens in a matter of minutes, but every time, it’s its own eternity.