Project X Love Potion Disaster 35 -

According to the archived text (now scrubbed from most mainstream platforms but preserved on the Wayback Machine and a private Pastebin), Disaster 35 was supposed to be the creator’s magnum opus: a mist-based delivery system that could be diffused in a crowded space, causing “benign, temporary, and mutual attraction” among everyone present.

Instead, the results were allegedly catastrophic.

The post—titled “Project X Love Potion Disaster 35 – DO NOT RECREATE (full confession)”—described a house party test run in a suburban Atlanta basement. The formula, accidentally boosted with an uncalibrated concentration of a research chemical called 9-Me-BC (normally used for neuroregeneration), didn’t induce love. It induced fixation.

Here are the key claims from the original post: project x love potion disaster 35

The post ended with a photo of a shattered Pyrex flask and a handwritten note: “I am not posting the formula. I am posting the warning. Check your math. D35 killed something in me.”

Three years after its original posting, the term continues to evolve.

Most importantly, the story taught a generation of amateur biohackers a lesson that no lab safety course could: Some experiments should never leave the notebook. According to the archived text (now scrubbed from

In this context, $$E=mc^2$$, Einstein's famous equation, doesn't directly apply unless you're creating a science fiction element to your story involving energy and mass transformations for the love potion.

You play as Kaito Tanaka, a chronically unremarkable university student who, through a bizarre internship mishap, acquires an experimental pheromone-based serum: Project X. Unlike traditional love potions that erase free will entirely, Project X amplifies existing positive feelings. A 10% dose makes someone slightly friendlier. A 50% dose induces a crush. A 100% dose, however, creates a “perfect storm” of emotional dependency.

The “35” in the title refers to the game’s central mechanic: 35 distinct endings. Early marketing boasted this as a feature of romantic variety—find the perfect percentage for each of the six heroines. But veteran players know the truth. Of the 35 endings, only four are unequivocally “happy.” Twelve are neutral. The remaining nineteen are various shades of disaster: psychological breakdowns, ruined friendships, police intervention, and at least three endings that veer into outright supernatural horror. The post ended with a photo of a

In the sprawling, chaotic archives of internet folklore, few rabbit holes go as deep—or as sticky—as the legend of Project X Love Potion Disaster 35. If you’ve spent any time on niche Reddit forums, obscure Discord servers, or the darker corners of fanfiction archives, you’ve seen the memes, the warnings, and the frantic “does anyone have the original file?” posts.

For the uninitiated, the term sounds like a rejected B-movie sequel or a low-budget Steam game. For those who lived through it, “PXLP-D35” is a three-letter code for a unique kind of digital chaos.

This is the definitive history, breakdown, and analysis of the Project X Love Potion Disaster 35—the creepypasta-meets-social-experiment that mutated into something its creator never intended.

The disaster narrative occupied a perfect uncanny valley between science and supernatural. Mention “oxytocin receptor agonists” and “volatile carrier solvents,” and you sound real. Mention “love mist” and you sound silly. D35 walked that line masterfully.