#924

This Porsche 924 Turbo sits right in the late-1970s/early-1980s moment when turbocharging became the new promise: a road-car technology with a motorsport halo, adopted across Europe with real enthusiasm. In Porsche terms, the 924 Turbo (internal type 931) was the factory answer to anyone who wanted more than the normally aspirated 924—same front-engine/transaxle layout for balance, but a sharper…

924: Princess & dragon dynamic

PT: 924: Princess & dragon dynamic /end PT

DEFINITION ⦂⠀A x dynamic term for those who have a princess & dragon dynamic with another/others.

PT: Definition: A x dynamic term for those who have a princess & dragon dynamic with another/others. /end PT

ADDITIONAL ⦂⠀Coined on the 14th of March, 2026. X dynamic template (Tumblr link).

PT: Additional: Coined on the 14th of March, 2026. X dynamic template (Tumblr link). /end PT

TAGGING ⦂⠀@c1rcus-of-silliness @coiningclub @dearestchild @goregender @orientation-archive @radiomogai @shipchive @theeself

1977 Porsche 924. The First Porsche Available With Fully Automatic Transmission

Source: Pinterest / Darryl John

The chiller is broken.

Pius stares at it like he can dissect it and diagnose the issue with sheer force of will alone, feeling like the little LED temperature display is mocking him.

19.9.

20.0.

20.1.

“What is your problem,” Pius asks it. He presses the back of his hand to the nearest condenser and sighs, because it’s still twice as warm as it should be. “What is wrong with you.”

Of course, he gets no answer, and the temperature just keeps ticking up higher and higher. Pius starts to go through his mental checklist, trying to parse what the most likely issue is. The tank is literally overflowing with coolant, so it’s not simply bleeding dry. There aren’t any obvious kinks in the tubing – and yes, he does stick his entire upper body into the fume hood to check behind the heating mantle, okay? It’s a completely ventilated lab. It’s fine.

Those are kind of the only two ailments that strike their chillers (other than leaks, but that would be way too obvious to miss if it were the case), so Pius returns to leaning against the counter and staring. Their new PolyScience units don’t randomly fritz out like this. Ugh.

Linus, their newest tech, peeks into the other end of the hood and points at the chiller.

“What’s wrong with it?” He asks. His lab coat is buttoned wrong. Pius purposely looks away.

“I have no idea. I don’t think it’s ever done this before.” The temperature display is at 21.7, and the condensers are still hot enough to warm his skin even through two layers of gloves. “It’s like – it’s just not cooling down at all, even with no soxhlets running.”

“Oh. Weird. Should I get someone, or…?” Linus trails off, glancing over his shoulder at the otherwise empty aisle. He has a resting expression that makes him look perpetually nervous, which isn’t really reassuring.

Pius extracts himself from the fume hood, though, gnawing at his lower lip. “No, it’s okay. I’m just going to call JT to ask if he has time to take a look at it.”

“Ah. Right.” Linus moves to walk away and check on the sonicator before stopping abruptly. “Who’s JT, by the way?”

JT picks up the second time Pius pages him. Usually it takes at least three tries, so he considers it a small win.

“What’s up?” JT greets, voice kind of rough, like he just got back from smoking. Not that Pius has his daily schedule memorized or anything.

“Hi, JT. Sorry, uhm, it’s just that — this is Pius, by the way — one of the chillers in one-two isn’t working, and I was wondering…”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute,” JT immediately says.

“Oh. Okay! Thanks.” The call ends before Pius can even finish speaking, and he kind of stares at the aisle’s phone for a few seconds before returning to check on the problem child chiller.

JT arrives in his full sawdust-scented glory within two minutes, safety glasses perched jauntily on his head like he couldn’t even be bothered to slide them on over his normal frames. Unfortunately, Pius doesn’t have it in him to tell him to put them on properly.

“So this guy’s giving you trouble, huh?” JT plants one hand on the glass sash and leans in, squinting at the unit. It’s hard to tell whether it’s the innate heat of the tech aisle or some other unknown factor that’s making Pius sweat. He subtly drags the cuff of his lab coat over the back of his neck and nods.

“Yeah, um. It’s just not cooling properly. Kiefer told me that there were some XADs up this morning, and the condensers were, like, burning hot, but the temperature was showing as 14 degrees. So.” He catches himself rambling and closes his mouth, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down between his collarbones. Why does this lab not have proper AC?

JT’s forehead crinkles as he pulls off the front panel to check the filter, then unscrews the filler cap to make sure there’s actually coolant. “Huh. Did he say if it was acting up yesterday, too?”

Pius nods. “Apparently it was struggling even with just three normal soxhlets.”

“Weird. These guys are just old as hell, though, so I’m not really surprised they’re breaking down…”

JT briefly presses his hand to Pius’ hip, moving him away so he can take a closer look, and Pius feels his stomach do a disconcerting little flip-flop. It isn’t like he gets touched that often, okay? He can’t help it. He obediently steps back and lets JT poke around behind the heating mantle, though, his shirt stretching over his broad shoulders in a way that’s just really, really hard for Pius to ignore.

“Well, there’s no problems with the tubing, and it isn’t like the breaker flipped or something,” JT deduces when he leans back out of the hood. With some awkward tugging and wiggling, he manages to drag the entire unit forwards, and –

“Oh. Wait, it’s going down,” Pius says, pointing at the LED display. “Did you do something?”

“Huh. Shit, not really?” JT gives the chiller another little shake. The temperature drops faster – 18.9, 18.8, 18.7. “You know what, I bet something inside was stuck, and just giving it a shake loosened it up.”

You’re so hot, Pius thinks. He blinks. “What do you think was stuck?”

“Probably the float switch.” To Pius’ blank stare, JT clears his throat, scratches idly at his beard. “There’s a switch inside that closes if the coolant level gets too low, and that’s what’ll shut it off if it’s empty. Could’ve been stuck. Who knows.”

“Ah. That makes sense, yeah,” Pius agrees, “thanks, JT.”

JT shoots him a firm nod and gives him a pat on the shoulder that he could, in theory, mentally twist into having been a caress. “No problem. Let me know if it starts acting up again.”

Then he leaves. Pius watches the temperature sink and tries really hard not to think about anything other than the fact that he and Dakota have forty-two CL samples to put up tonight.

☿

Having Lab 2 start to mysteriously leak isn’t really how Pius wanted his day to start. Or end. Generally, uncontained water in the labs isn’t something he wants to see, ever.

Yet, there’s a steadily growing puddle of rust-coloured water (or at least what he assumes is water) spreading across the stainless steel counter, dangerously close to their incredibly beat up keyboard.

“What the fuck?” Dakota says when he walks in, not even halfway through pulling on his cut-resistant gloves. “What the hell is that?”

“Um.” The puddle doesn’t go away when Pius blinks at it, unfortunately. “I don’t know?”

“Third base,” Conor automatically says when he squeezes past Dakota to join the small crowd staring at the leak. “You should call JT.”

Pius calls JT. He picks up on the second try, this time. All he has to say is ‘leak’ combined with ‘Lab 2’ and JT groans.