#Oxygen concentrators for personal use

[lauralot89]

You know what it's time for?

WEIRD SHARKS THAT'S WHAT IT'S TIME FOR

(IDs are in the image descriptions)

Pocket Shark

Pocket sharks are named for two small pocket glands appearing behind their pectoral fins. These glands are theorized to be luminous. Pocket sharks look like tiny, tiny sperm whales.

Angular Roughshark

Also called the pig-faced shark or the pig fish, angular roughsharks grow to be about 3 feet 4 in long on average. I personally think they're more bat-faced.

Goblin Shark

Found in the deep sea, goblin sharks are known for being able to extend their jaws like a grabber tool made of teeth. Wikipedia says that these sharks' "flabby bodies" suggest that they are sluggish in nature.

Cookiecutter Shark

The cookiecutter shark only grows to about 20 inches in length, but that doesn't stop it from biting into orcas, great whites, or humans. It suctions onto its meal with its lips and then goes to town. It removes perfect circles of flesh, hence its name.

Wobeggong Shark

Wobeggong refers to twelve species of carpet shark, so-named for their resemblance to a shag rug. They dwell on the bottom of the sea floor and wait for smaller fish to swim nearby.

Swell Shark

Swell sharks like to hide in crevices of algae-covered rocks, waiting for prey to swim by. They are so named not because they're really swell (though they are) but because as a defense mechanism, they can swell up to double their size by swallowing sea water.

Greenland Shark

The Greenland shark has high concentrations of urea in its body. It is theorized to have a lifespan of 250 to 500 years, and it can grow up to 23 feet long. Greenland sharks have been found with moose and reindeer in their stomachs. Because of the shark's toxic levels of urea, its flesh must be fermented or otherwise treated before consumption.

Viper Dogfish

Like the goblin shark, the viper dogfish's jaws can protude from the rest of its head, though its coloring means the viper dogfish looks significantly more Xenomorphish when doing so. This small shark is a member of the lanternshark family, and its underside glows.

Pointy-Nosed Blue Chimaera

Also know as the abyssal ghostshark, this deep sea shark has a venomous spine on its dorsal fin used for defense.

Genie's Dogfish Shark

Genie's dogfish shark is a small species found in the gulf of Mexico and the west Atlantic Ocean. It has real life anime eyes.

Ninja Lanternshark

The ninja lanternshark is a small bioluminescent shark. It is all black except for white markings around its eyes and mouth. It reaches about a foot and a half in length.

Frilled Shark

The frilled shark is sometimes called a living fossil, as it is basically unchanged in the past 80 million years. They are named for their teeth, which each have three points.

Epaulette Shark

Epaulette sharks are named for the large spots behind their pectoral fins. These sharks frequently visit tidal pools and have adapted to long periods of oxygen deprivation by shutting down non-essential neural functions. Epaulette sharks often "walk" with their fins on the sea floor rather than swim.

Horn Shark

Similar to the epaulette sharks, horn sharks like to walk on the sea floor with their fins. However, these sharks have sharp spines to deter predators.

This Ridiculousness

A prehistoric shark, helicoprion lived 20 million years ago and was apparently part buzzsaw. A fossil unearthed in Idaho in 2014 showed that these sharks had no teeth in their upper jaw, and a whorl of teeth in their lower jaw. It's a shame Junji Ito wasn't introduced to this shark during the writing of Uzumaki.

#sharks #long post #weird sharks #shark

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

I feel like with valentines day coming up a cute little blurb request would be Garrick x reader for valentines day. Maybe mixed in with over protective Gar or mates dragons

Cupid

Even after almost two years of being together Garrick still found himself wondering why you stuck around to date him. You two were so polar opposite at times that there wasn’t a person who hadn’t frowned at the knowledge that Basgiath’s sunshine was dating an absolute thundercloud.

“When do you finish?”, you felt a warm palm sliding over your middle. A smile sped over your concentrated face in an instant. Tilting your head up you were met with your boyfriend’s sharp feathers. “In about an hour”, you muttered, wanting nothing more than to turn towards him and snuggle into his chest but as the rules outside your bedroom and friend group stated - that wasn’t an option.

Garrick pressed his lips against your temple, “That works for me”, he muttered. “Do we have plans for tonight? Cause I don’t remember us…”, you trailed off, a pang of guilt shooting through you. It wasn’t his birthday. Wasn’t your anniversary. What had you missed? “We do and no, we didn’t talk about this so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head over it”, Garrick muttered quietly.

You scrunched up your nose at him not feeling satisfied with his answer. “Don’t do that”, Garrick grumbled, “Do what?”, you crossed your arms over your chest not dropping eye contact. “Don’t act all cute”, his palm slowly raised your chest and over your neck, “Because I can’t kiss you like I mean it in front of everyone”. You snickered, “Looks like a you kind of problem, Gar”, you tapped his shoulder before turning your attention fully on the class.

Navigating fully on the guidance scribbled on the paper you made your way towards the creek. No one went there, even if the view was breathtaking. Xaden had rules around the place. That place was not to be messed with. That place was the only untarnished memory he had of his parents happy. So the fact that you were walking there had you frowning slightly. Sure, he was a friend, brother even to both you and Garrick but you doubted…

You stopped in your tracks. Not even oxygen got through your lungs. You blinked a couple of times trying to chase the dream away. It was a dream. Had to… “Close your mouth baby, or you’ll catch a fly”, Garrick's sweet voice found you. “What. Is. This”, you voice every word so sharply as if it was a chore in itself to speak.

“Come and see for yourself”, Garrick mused, waving you over. “I…”, you muttered, “Do you have a fever?”, your hand found Garrick’s forehead the moment you were close enough to touch him, “Or maybe you are not Garrick”. Your boyfriend rolled his eyes, “You’re making it sound as if I never do anything for you”, he wasn’t hurt by your comment of course. He knew that he wasn’t exactly a teddy bear. He didn’t do cute.

“You do yes… but…”, you looked around. Everything from the knitted blanket. The flowers. A basket filled with food. “This looks like Cupid puked all over it and you Garrick… You don’t do cupid”, you muttered, still slowly taking in the cute date that awaited you. Garrick nudged you closer to him, “Right, but I can do cupid for you even if it physically hurt me to lay down that pink monstrosity”, he huffed making you let out a giggle before you pulled a serious look, “I’m proud of you for enduring it”, you nodded at him.

“I can endure lots of shit for you, baby”, his rough hands, pushed loose strands of your hair behind your ear. “I know and that means the world to me”, you cupped his cheeks, leaning in to kiss his lips softly. Another thing you taught him through your relationship. An act of slow love. One that always waited there for him. One that he didn’t have to hold in a chokehold.

“Come sit down”, he motioned for you when you two finally pulled apart. Making a quick work of it Garrick had filled up your plate with food. Nearly arranging it all. A strange habit of his. You would never assume that the man was a neat freak but here you were. “Why are you looking at me like that?”, Garrick muttered after catching your gaze. “Thinking about how I would love to put you in that pink sweater Violet made Xaden wear”, you mussed. “Yeah, you can sure try but I doubt we would love the outcome of that”, Garrick grumbled, making you chuckle, “What would you do? Tie me to a bed?”, you shook your head, watching as Garrick raised one of his eyebrows. Catching on what was brewing in his head, “Didn’t even think about it, Tavis”, you warned him but the smirk on his face told you that he, as always, wasn’t in the mood to follow orders.

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis fourth wing imagine #garrick tavis iron flame #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #iron flame imagine

[pictureinme]

kinktober day xi. FEAR PLAY - jonathan crane

word count: ~700 tags: solo, fear toxin, male masturbation, pretty dark n depraved lol, medical play, restraints masterlist | ao3

shout-out @lovelybucky1 for the stellar idea!

Jonathan tightens the restraints on his legs as he lays on the examination table, leaving his arms free. It was past the busy hours at Arkham Asylum, a time when he would do some of his most fulfilling work. He had just finished tweaking his various experimental versions of his tried and true fear toxin, but he needed to be sure it was exactly as he wanted it.

He never had any qualms about testing these serums on himself– no, that wouldn’t be fair to his many less-than-willing participants if he didn’t sample the wares every now and then. That’s how Jonathan rationalized it in his head, at least.

His breath catches in his throat as he takes the syringe from the medical instrument cart, the green liquid he was oh so familiar with causing him to suddenly hesitate– Jonathan had never taken it in such a concentrated form, only using the gas on himself. However, this was something he wanted– no, needed to do, right?

Taking the syringe in his hand, forefingers on the plunger, he rids the needle of its protective cap. He sighs as he injects the serum into his median cubital vein, Jonathan had no need for a tourniquet– he wasn’t a fussy child getting his chickenpox jab. He feels the cool liquid enter his vascular system, effects only taking seconds to make themselves known.

He flings the syringe across the room, the glass shattering against the wall as the darkness inherent to nightfall creates shapes of his traumatic past. He laughs, shutting his eyes, allowing himself to feel that irresistible feeling of true terror. There was a flurry of chemicals entering and exiting his system: adrenaline, cortisol, oxytocin, serotonin… not to mention his own concoction causing all of these to mingle beautifully.

“Oh, God…”

Jonathan’s eyes opened slowly to the shapes creeping even closer to him, and he couldn’t help but feel his slacks tightening– the real reason he so desperately bid his time until the late hours at Arkham. His body is covered in goosebumps as the shadows gather at his restraints, causing him to thrash subconsciously– he only gets harder.

His hips thrust against nothing as hallucinations fill his mind as well as his sight, even coming close to auditory. Whispers of things long hidden tickle at his ears, making his hair stand on end. Jonathan leans into the unreal touch, desperate for more of these unique sensations. He reaches down to haphazardly unzip and unbutton his pants, releasing his arousal to the sterile air of the examination room.

He hisses when his fingers wrap roughly around it, the voices seeming to laugh at his taboo reaction– it only spurs him on. Jonathan sets a rough pace for himself, he didn’t want it sweet or gentle– he didn’t deserve that. He was a sick son of a bitch, getting off where he’d tortured so many people. He fucking loved it.

The lack of lubrication as he jacked himself off was painful, but it was just how he was going to do it. His eyes glaze over as bits of pre-cum lessen the harshness, making it more bearable– maybe he could last? The thought goes out the window as he sees indescribable hallucinations wrapping themselves around his legs as well as his abdomen, tendrils of pure dark digging into his skin.

They make him want to spread his legs further, as opposed to closing them shut like a normal person. He was far from that. Jonathan moans loudly as his fingers swipe over his reddened tip, the sensitivity making his back arch. He squeezes his eyes shut as his fist tightens around himself, he’s oh so close.

Jonathan’s eyes focus on a specific visual hallucination creeping into his peripheral, its glowing eyes piercing into the depths of his psyche. He watches its hand make its way to wrap around his throat, cutting off his oxygen flow– despite it not being real.

That was enough to send him flying over the edge– his movements became sloppy and uncalculated as ropes of his desire landed all over the restraints, as well as his slacks. The creature of his mind’s creation did not relent, only softening its grip enough to let him catch a tiny breath now and then. Jonathan continued to milk himself for all he’s got– not planning on stopping until the toxin was fully flushed from his system.

How long would that be– maybe an hour or so?

#jonathan crane x reader #cillian murphy x reader #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy smut #kinktober 2023

[worseforwords]

Ocean Eyes (Leah Williamson x Reader)

Hi, I'm back! I am kind of trying something new with this one, so let me know what you think.

The rapid vibrating of your phone on the opposite armrest of your sofa send a tingly feeling from you toes all the way up to your neck, triggering goosebumps all over. Releasing a new song was a nerve-racking experience every time, but this time was different. This song was deeply personal, written straight from the heart. A heart not yet healed. You decided to attempt your usual release day ritual: disconnecting. 

You left your house to go on a walk, after putting your phone on silent and locking it in an old guitar case under your bed. You walked in silence for a bit until you reached the forest and took a deep breath of fresh oxygen provided by the trees around you. When you reached your favourite spot under a mighty old oak, you sat down on a patch of grass and pulled out your headphones and your first ever mp3 player from when you were about eleven years old. 

The longer you worked on a song, the less you really listened to it, or felt it. The last couple of weeks upon releasing it, it usually became more of a product you had to edit to perfection. You listened with the critical, theoretical part of your brain and your heart had no say in it. But now, the song was out there, and there was nothing left to change, so you could finally take a moment to listen concentrate on the words and melodies you from two months ago wrote in a heartbeat, in one of your purest moments of self-expression.

The chirping of birds around you disappeared as you put your headphones in. You took another deep breath as you pressed play, letting the sound of your past self resonate through your body. The angelic voices forming the intro send a shiver down your spine, as they brought you back to where it all started, and your mind took you on a journey through it al:

Even though you dreamt of a full time career in music, you didn’t mind working as a barista for a while. Apart from a few busy hours every now and then, the atmosphere in the small café you worked at was usually calm and comfy, allowing you to let your thoughts run free and gather inspiration from overheard conversations customers shared. One day however, even though to an outsider little seemed to have changed, your peaceful spirit weakened as a new customer effortlessly claimed your full focus.

“I've been watching you for some time. Can't stop staring at those ocean eyes”

A loud group of footballers sat at the back of your café, all of them wearing arsenal apparel. Every now and then one of the players walked up to your coffee bar to order a drink. You completed their orders expertly, but you rarely met their gazes, as your eyes were focussed on something, or rather someone else. She sat at the back of the table, not taking her eyes off you. The two of you engaged in numerous intense staring contest, you using your work as an excuse on multiple occasions to nervously look away and froth some milk or to take fresh bread rolls out of the oven. She never once conceded, barely even blinked: this girl was bold, daring, possibly dangerous. “I am Leah by the way.” She said, sending you a wink, before following her teammates out the door.

Leah. Something told you you wouldn’t be forgetting that name any time soon, and you were right. The following weeks, she kept coming back to your café, sometimes with teammates, sometimes by herself, but always sending shivers down your spine with her mesmerising blue eyes. At this point you knew she didn’t even drink coffee, but the fearless woman didn’t need an excuse to go after what she wanted, which apparently, was you. You barely ever spoke, but her eyes told you more than words ever could. Her gaze left you somewhere in between calm and terrified, you were intrigued, more than anything, and flattered, every time you caught her looking at you. By the time she finally spoke to you again, butterflies had already spread through your entire body. “I figure it’s only fair you come meet me at my work for once.” She said calmly, in a deep voice, as she slid a ticket for an Arsenal match across the coffee bar.

You went to the match, and to her place afterwards, and then didn’t really leave for an entire week. You spent every spare minute, when both of you weren’t at work, together, growing closer and getting to know each other. It was intense, passionate, exhausting, but spectacular, unlike any relationship you had ever been in.

“Burning cities and napalm skies. Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes”

When Leah was on the pitch was the only time you could watch her without her watching you, yet it did not make her the slightest bit more vulnerable. She’d have an inextinguishable fire in her eyes, fixated on the goal ahead with impeccable concentration, determined to win, a look you recognised all too well. 

You were never an open book, usually keeping to yourself. You had carefully created a calm and collected image to show to the outside world, keeping everything else behind closed doors and large, solid walls you had built over the years. Leah noticed this as soon as you met, but instead of backing down, she was determined to break you down brick by brick and get through to your core. Whenever you attempted to hide anything from her, she got that same fiery look in her eyes, ready to look into your soul, tenacious if you wouldn’t immediately give in.

“Your ocean eyes”

Her eyes were nearly indescribable. It made you feel many things. You could drift away into them, dreaming of a fairytale life, if they let you. They could send shivers down your spine, make your heart burst into flames, or glance at you very essence, paralysing you in the process.

“No fair. You really know how to make me cry, when you gimme those ocean eyes”

One look was enough to have you crumble to the ground, letting go of any barrier you ever built and breaking down into tears. It felt liberating to finally take of the heavy armour, but at the same time it was terrifying, leaving your harness behind to stand there naked, more honest en uncensored than you ever imagined you could be. As long as she was there however, you felt safe. She managed to make you feel beautiful even when you were crying.

“I'm scared. I've never fallen from quite this high, falling into your ocean eyes. Those ocean eyes”

She had always been clear about her busy schedule, but the way you fell for this girl was unreal. You saw yourself as a rational individual, always holding yourself back, even when people told you to loosen up a bit. This time however, something just snapped. Probably with the very first look she ever send you, she easily flipped a switch inside of you, running electricity through your inner circuit, with no intention of ever turning it back off. It was fair to say at this point all rationality had flown out the window.

As your highs became higher, your lows became lower. Whenever she was there you were on cloud nine, but then she left to live her busy life, leaving you stripped down and all by your self, cold and terrified, not knowing when (and sometimes even if) she’d come back. She frequently left you on read for days, to then suddenly show up at your doorstep. Your life was becoming a rollercoaster and you were a frightened little kid riding it: no control, no idea of the outcome, just letting yourself get carried away, trying to enjoy the pumps of adrenaline falling into your stomach like bricks. To you, it was all worth it though, being allowed to look into her eyes like you were.

“I've been walking through a world gone blind. Can't stop thinking of your diamond mind”

The more you got to know Leah, the more she impressed you. You found that her mesmerising eyes were an extension to what you’d call her diamond mind. Leah’s mind was, like a diamond, precious, magnificent and rare. You often found yourself enjoying her intellect, and how she’d always find the right words to say. But there was more to the comparison. Like a diamond, her mind was also sharp, tough and practically unbreakable. She was always focussed, never faltering, and was devoted to her first love: football, which no one, including you, could ever compete with. 

“Careful creature made friends with time. Left her lonely with a diamond mind”

In the end, there was just no room for you in her life, as Leah chose football over you time and time again. She had been clear about her priorities from the start, but you just couldn’t listen. Her time was extremely valuable, and you apparently weren’t, or at least not enough, so eventually, lows became longer and highs less frequent. 

Whenever she wasn’t there, you started rebuilding your walls, trying to focus on anything and everything else. You spend most of your time at work and in the studio, not even asking Leah for her time anymore. Fixating on work, even though not necessarily healthy, felt  good. You didn’t realise it then, but you were attempting to create a diamond mind of your own. By the time she noticed the shift in your behaviour, you had turned cold, avoiding eye contact at all costs, and she must have known it was too late. 

“And those ocean eyes”

Leah had never truly let you in, but before she left you she looked at you one last time. Her eyes were watering slightly, suddenly showing you every emotion in her body. Your heart shattered right then and there as she suddenly radiated empathy, regret, affection and grief. “I’m sorry.” Those were her last words before closing the door to your house, and with it to your relationship, which had you collapse onto the floor. 

You had experienced heartbreak before, but never like this. You called in sick to work and barely got out of bed for days. At first there was grief: an agonising sting in your heart, causing you to sob uncontrollably for hours on end, the salt ruining the skin on your cheeks. Then there was anger, you resented her for opening up your stubborn shell, only to break your heart when she got closest to it, and anger at your self, for letting her do so. You repeatedly hit you mattress, and even the wall once to attempt getting it out of your system, but it didn’t work, sending you right back to the heartache from before.

The grief cycle continued for a while, until, after a week of what felt like meaningless misery, you got yourself to pick up your songwriting notebook, and it fell open on a page with some words scribbled at the top. “I've been watching you for some time, can’t stop staring at those ocean eyes”. You first scoffed as you read the loving words you wrote back when you had just met Leah, but then, upon visualising her eyes once more, you realised the role they had played in everything. You grabbed your guitar, and before you knew it, a whole song came out, letting your heart lead your hands and voice. When you were done, tears fell from your eyes like a waterfall. However, these tears felt different, almost as if they were tears of relief. 

"No fair. You really know how to make me cry, when you gimme those ocean eyes."

"I'm scared. I've never fallen from quite this high, falling into your ocean eyes. Those ocean eyes."

The song ended, but you didn’t move yet. As you felt a cool breeze gently caress your arms, a single tear fled your eyes. You didn’t wipe it away, instead slowly letting it roll all the way down to your jaw as you felt yourself finally starting to relax for the first time in months.

A few hours later, when you got back home, you allowed yourself to check your phone again. It had blown up in the hours that you were gone, with many kind messages. You’d had a lovely little fanbase for a while, sending you love, kindness and support every time you provided them with new music, but this time the response seemed greater than before. As you were scrolling to some comments, you noticed Daryl, your manager, calling you. When you started to get more fans, you decided you needed some help managing it all and so you hired Daryl. He was definitely not the best, but certainly the cheapest. 

“Y/N, where have you been? You’re blowing up dude!” He exclaimed trough the phone. You hated it when he called you dude, and how he still didn’t remember your release day ritual. “Blowing up? Really?” “Yes, radio stations wanting to book you left and right! I’ll send you the details later. Tomorrow it’s back to work, but take the rest of today off to enjoy all of this alrighty?” You smiled as you hung up the phone to open up instagram again, and one notification caught your eye. You let out a gasp as upon seeing that Leah had liked your post about the new song. Of course you knew she would hear it eventually, but it still caught you of guard. Was that it? Just a like? There was no doubt in your mind she knew the song was about her, as “Ocean Eyes” was a nickname you frequently used with her and even though you were starting to make your peace with what had happened, for some reason you still wanted her to like the song. Luckily your prayer was soon answered, as she left a comment as well. It was just two emoji’s, “❤️🥺”, but it still meant a lot to you. Of course, like always, she knew just what to say, thoughtful yet discreet.

You scrolled through a few more comments, before putting your phone away again. You ran yourself a nice hot bath, to enjoy finally being able to relax the muscles in your back and neck. The soothing hot water slowly loosened up every inch of your body, letting go of months of built up tension. A much needed break from everything, as you felt this might just be the calm before the storm of what’s to come, starting tomorrow, probably.

#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc imagines #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso #engwnt x reader #Youtube

[foolforharrry]

H. S.

Word Count: 1.5k words

Summary: Fluff and Harry personalizing his new robe

Basically. I miss Harry and Amber. If you haven't read it, they're the characters from my oneshot called Off The Deep End. And I felt like using them for this. I got the idea from the photos of Harry we got where he was wearing the robe with the H.S on.

I am very weak for Harry in a robe.

This isn't carefully written at all but I hope you still like it!

if you wanna read more of my work, I have it all linked on my masterlist.

Any feedback would be greatly appreciated and if you have any requests please feel free to give them to me and I will do my absolute best to do it.

Descending the staircase and rounding the corner that leads into the cluttered living room, I'm met with the sight of Harry sitting hunched down on the floor with his back to me. Humming a song I can't recognise to himself with his head bopping along to it.

He'd already left the house when I woke up today, a note stuck to his pillow informing me that he went out for a run and would be back by lunchtime. That was just before 9 am.

Pulling my phone out, I turn it on. 12:17 pm. Maybe I spent a bit longer laying in bed before I headed to the shower than I thought I did.

The room smells faintly of the mixture of his fruity body wash and expensive shampoo I've gotten so familiar with and it makes me feel at ease the second I register it.

Before stuffing my phone in the pocket of my sweatpants, I snap a quick picture of Harry like this. His brown hair looks damp, curling at the back of his neck. The warm lights from the ceiling reflect the muscles in his bare back and shoulders. Highlighting the way they twitch every time he slightly moves his arms.

Padding across the wooden floor and onto the soft carpet, I stand behind him so close my knees nearly brush against the back of his shoulders.

With a slight smile on my face, I twirl a lock of his hair around my pointer finger, "Hi, baby."

Harry tilts his head back and the grin that instantly replaces the concentrated pout on his face when his eyes meet mine damn near takes my breath away.

"Hi sleepyhead. Gimme a kiss." He takes out his AirPods, leaving them on the floor as he pouts out his lips for a kiss.

My stomach is tight with butterflies as I take a small step backwards, giving myself enough room to sit down on my knees behind him and press my lips against his, giggling when he cups the back of my head to keep it in place and pecks my chin. Then my cheek before he smears a final kiss to my lips, a bright smile on his face when he lets me go. "Just so pretty darling."

"Stop it." Blushing profusely at his compliment, I wrap my arms around him. Hands folded against his stomach as I prop my chin on his shoulder. "Why didn't you shower in our bathroom?" I change the topic before he gets the chance to protest.

Harry places his warm hands on top of mine and I can feel the heat radiating from his skin through the thin material of my t-shirt as he deadpans; "They're all our bathrooms, Ambs."

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep in the laugh that would only encourage him further. However, when he opens his mouth, I wish I hadn't. "Could hear you having a karaoke session when I got home and didn't wanna interrupt your fun."

Hiding my burning cheeks in his neck, I groan. "No, I didn't."

"It was really quite wonderful," Harry tries to assure me through his snickering even though we both know he's full of shit. I only shake my head and press my nose further into his skin. "If I ever get sick, you can just fill in for me on stage."

"That would be a bad idea," I tell him, dragging my head out of his neck. For oxygen, but also so my words would be intelligible. "How come?"

"By the time they left, all your fans would love me more than they love you."

Harry hums as if he's in deep thought, his thumb mindlessly running over my knuckles. "That would be bad for business," he muses.

"What are you doing, anyway?" I ask, at last taking in the mess in front of us.

There's a pair of scissors and the packaging to what looks to be about 10 different coloured threads scattered on the carpet, a set of graphite pencils and a pack of needles. His bag is by the foot of the coffee table. I also recognise the beige robe I got him for his birthday in his lap.

The purple bathrobe he loved so dearly was starting to tear at the seams after years of avid use. He had been sad to part ways with it, but he eventually recognised that it was time to switch it out with a robe that doesn't have a split in the seam that goes all the way from the bottom to his hips.

Taking the shoulders of his new robe between his fingers, his shoulders shifting against my chest when Harry lifts it off his lap to proudly show off his work. "Art, honey. I'm doing art."

I wouldn't be able to keep the admiration out of my mouth if I wanted to when I take in the red tread that's stitched through the beige material of his robe. A tall H with a nearly finished S next to it. The S is slightly longer than the H and the difference in size has my smile growing tenfold as I take in his handy work.

"It's amazing, baby," I praise him, planting a kiss on his shoulder. "Now you have a backup plan for when I steal your career."

Harry laughs, his shoulders shaking with it. "Is that right? Give up singing and become a seamstress?" he questions as he picks up where he left off, pushing the tiny needle with the red thread tied to the back through the fabric.

"Mhm," I hum, detangling myself and getting off my now sore knees despite Harry's whiny protest. "You could start an Etsy shop and sell personalised clothes and stuff. Would be a huge hit, I'm sure."

My body bounces from how I practically throw myself onto the couch before I rearrange myself so I'm laid on my stomach, my head propped on a throw pillow and my arms around it.

"Especially because you would promote it, right?" Harry raises one eyebrow while keeping his eyes trained on the task in his lap. "You know, since you'll have stolen all of my fans. I think you'd owe me at least that."

"If you do all your work like this, you bet your little ass I would," I gesture to where he's sat on the floor of our living room in only his grey sweatpants. The muscles in his torso look delicious as ever with his sun-kissed skin. His soft hair falls messily across his forehead, free of gel and hair clips.

The left corner of his mouth quirks into a crooked smile as he tilts his head at me. "You're only with me for my body aren't you?" he teases without missing a beat.

"That and your pancakes. Sorry to break it to you, babe." I end my sentence with an exasperated sigh.

"I guess it's better to know now." Faking a sniffle, Harry pauses his work to wipe a non-existent tear with a smile threatening to break out on his face. "Before we're married, you know."

"Since when are we getting married?" I ask in a higher pitch than usual. Sitting up straight, my cheeks burn as he acts like he didn't just mention marriage as casually as one would talk about apples. When he pretends like he didn't hear my question, I take the pillow I was just using and chuck it at him, watching the way it bounces from his shoulder and to the side. Out of sight.

"Don't act like you're shocked I'm planning on putting a ring on that pretty finger of yours, Amber," Harry says matter-of-factly as he seals his masterpiece with a knot before chopping off the excess thread with green scissors. "Gonna have to make you one of these with AS."

Getting up on his feet, Harry shrugs the robe on, tying the string around his waist. The HS is on the left side of his chest and I can't lie and say I don't love it.

"Cat got your tongue?" Harry closes the distance between us in two steps, towering over me so I have to crane my neck to see his face. His handsome, smug face.

Swallowing hard, I say comment on the less heavy thing he said, "I want it on my ass, then."

"Whatever you want, my love."

Harry tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, a soft smile on his face when he brushes the pad of his thumb across my cheekbone so softly I almost can't feel it. "You're so pretty," he says in a whisper so quiet I almost can't feel it.

"It looks pretty," I thumb over the embroidered letters, my cheeks burning crimson from the compliment. Only Harry can have me blushing like a schoolgirl over a compliment.

Bashful, Harry thanks me and gently takes my wrist in his hand before he places a soft kiss on each of my knuckles.

His lips linger on my ringer finger for a few seconds longer than the rest.

-

I missed Harry and Amber and just wanted to write fluff but I still hope you liked it.

#harry #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles fluff #harry styles masterlist #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles #one direction #fanfiction #masterlist #fluff

[mumms-the-word]

Duke Belynne Stelmane and the Emperor

currently reading lore stuff about mind flayers for an upcoming deep dive and anyway here's some depressing content about how the Emperor turned Belynne Stelmane into his thrall (probably)

This is not Hot New Lore or a Brand New Theory by any stretch of the imagination, but hear me out

Remember when Wyll talks about meeting Stelmane? How he only saw her twice, but the second time she was very different? They attribute her changes to a stroke.

Wyll: I met her twice. The first time, I was a boy of seven or eight, at a banquet in the Flaming Fist's honour. One look and I was smitten. Chesnut hair that flowed behind her like willow fronds. She floated from one room to the next as if carried by clouds. The second time, Stelmane was...different. Even with the aid of a cane, each step she took was a struggle. Every word she spoke took great physical effort. 'A stroke victim?' I asked my father later. 'No,' he said. 'A stroke survivor.' Not a mere stroke, as it turns out - but the scars of her possession. Gods, what I wouldn't give to drive a dagger through the Emperor's building head. We can never let it do to us what it did to Stelmane.

The last part, the part where Wyll realizes that it was more than a stroke, is conditional upon you calling the Emperor out for possessing or messing with Stelmane, which is when the Emperor literally shows you him possessing her.

Note the glowy purple eyes and then later the mechanical movements, the fixed stares, the way Stelmane toasts the Emperor as if moved by puppet strings. Her gestures are stiff, as if she's being controlled.

Wyll and his father attribute Stelmane's movements to being part of a stroke. Slurred speech and difficulty moving parts of your body are stroke symptoms, so it's a convenient explanation for her change in behavior and her difficulty with movement and speech. But possession?

No, dear readers, I don't think the Emperor was possessing Stelmane. I think he genuinely made her a literal thrall.

(please excuse the horrible quality lol)

From Volo's Guide to Monsters on Mind Flayers:

A thrall-to-be is first rendered docile through psionic means. Using a low-power version of its Mind Blast ability, the mind flayer bombards the victim with energy that washes through its synapses like acid, clearing away its former personality and leaving it a partially empty shell. This step takes 24 hours. Over the next 48 hours, the illithids rebuild the victim's memories and personality, and the victim gains the skills and talents it needs to perform its intended function.

A Mind Blast that "washes through synapses like acid" sounds a lot like a stroke-adjacent experience to me. Strokes attack the brain, causing parts of the brain to literally die (usually due to a lack of blood flow or oxygen). It could explain Stelmane's stiff movements.

The "clearing away" of her personality and the suggestion of "rebuilding" her memories would also be extremely useful to the Emperor. Rather than exerting the mental energy to possess her all the time, constantly keeping her under concentrated surveillance, all he had to do was literally break her and then rebuild her. She becomes a Stelmane that is only partly herself, and empty shell that he can mold as he pleases.

This is veering into headcanon territory, but I imagine if it was just basic possession, she would move a little more fluidly and naturally than she does in the Emperor's memory. She wouldn't be exhibiting movements and speech that mimic stroke symptoms. That, and there is always the potential she could break free of possession.

But if she's a full-on mind flayer thrall, broken and rebuilt? An empty husk that has had her memories and personality pumped back into her, still under the control of the Emperor? That makes a ton of sense to me. There's no snapping out of that. As the Emperor says when he threatens you...she becomes a puppet.

And the fact that he keeps the threat of doing the same to you in his metaphorical back pocket at all times is honestly quite terrifying.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #the emperor #bg3 emperor #bg3 lore #bg3 meta #bg3 headcanon #kinda a headcanon i guess #anyway this was a quick lore post for funsies #back to your regularly scheduled programs besties #Youtube

[cripplecharacters]

What sort of things (medication, other techniques etc.) would an asthmatic character use to manage their asthma day to day? Also, how are severe attacks managed in hospital?

Hi lovely asker!

So it depends on how severe of asthma they have and what type of asthma too.

So for some people they only have asthma that flares or is triggered during certain activities or when certain factors are at play. Extreme weather, allergens, exercise, smoke, fumes, are all things and for some people they will trigger an asthma attack. Here's a link from the CDC of triggers for asthma.

Medications: For the general person a Daily Steroid and an Bronchodilator are usually all that is needed. Here is an article from the Mayo Clinic that actually lists all the meds used to treat asthma. Its a bit heavy on the medical terms but it's a really good list the different types of Asthma and what meds are usually used to treat it.

Equipment: If needed there is home oxygen concentrators for at home along with portable oxygen concentrators as well. Nebulizers. CPT devices, percussion vest, PEP devices, are all also things that someone may or may not use. If needed Suction Devices also are an option for people who have a hard time clearing mucus/phlegm.

Techniques: CPT, and certain breathing techniques like Huff Coughing help. Here is a link to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation that talks more in dept about airway clearance.

If there are conditions in combination with asthma I would research to see how they would affect each other or if they exacerbate each other. Conditions like Cystic Fibrosis, GERD, COPD, Severe allergy conditions, connective tissue disorders, and others often cause complications with asthma. When conditions are in combination, often you'll need to treat one condition to treat the other condition. For example: Treating your GERD will decrease asthma symptoms because it's no longer irritating what it was, hence making it easy to breathe. Or something like Xolair and Cromolyn Sodium often can treat Asthma and Mast Cell Activation Syndrome together.

And In my experience, in a hospital setting, asthma attacks and the beginnings of them are treated with bronchodilators. If things get worse from there, things like steroid injections, epinephrine and of course oxygen as needed are used. If all that fails, intubation would be the next step if the person still isn't satting right and aren't getting oxygen.

That is all I can think of for now but if you have any more questions feel free to ask and good luck writing!

~ Mod Virus 🌸

#mod virus #anonymous #asthma representation

[miyaniacs]

Corrupted by Darkness

- Chapter 2 -

Chapter 1 ; Wattpad

A/N: hey again, today was a really good writing day :) I know this chapter is shorter, but the next one is already finished :) if any of you are willing to give me some feedback or comments, I’d really appreciate it <3

My knees hit the ground as I try to hold my body up with my arms. Small drops of sweat color the underneath me, my breath is heavy and it feels like I can’t breath fast enough to give my body the oxygen it needs.

“I need a break.” I whisper as I look up through my lashes. Rhys is standing right in front of me, the blood running out of his nose already stopped.

“Do you know how to control it now?” He asks and kneels down.

“I think so …” I grumble and sit down, resting my arms on my knees.

Thinking isn’t good enough. Noctis hisses.

‘I’m sorry! It’s exhausting to concentrate the energy running through me to another person.’

Well but if you don’t know how to control it and lose your temper again you’ll die.

Looking up, I glare at the giant dragon. I know he’s right, but this power is so much more than the magic I’m used to.

“Rhys this is so much harder than you trying to teach me to not get my mind crushed by someone like you.”

“But I can’t crush yours, can I?” A small smirk plays at his lips.

“No…”

“So you’ll manage to control this power too. - hey Nea. Look at me.” His hand grab your face and force you to look at him.

“Nea. You’ll find a way and until you’ll do so, I’ll be here every single night ready for you to make me bleed.” He smiles and whips away a tear running down your cheek.

“What if I accidentally hurt you?” I start to sob.

“You won’t. You’d never hurt me. Or any of us.” His hand leaves my face and reaches for my hand, pulling me up with him.

“The sun is rising, I should go now … and you should eat something.”

“Hey Rhys?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you.” I smile and he returns it, before clouding himself in his darkness and disappears.

Go now. Your hunger is rubbing off on me.

‘Why were you here in the first place?’

Moral support.

‘All you’ve been doing, is telling me to do it faster and concentrate more.’

Because I worry about you. You’re excellent at challenging your other powers, but this?

‘ I don’t want to talk about this now.’ Annoyed I turn around and stomp off the field. On my back I still feel the hot air from Noctis huff and stumble forward when he flys off, a bit too energetic.

I tried my best to avoid my friends today, I really couldn’t bear them asking me what is wrong with me and lying to them about me just being tired. Exhausted I fell down in my bed and passed out immediately, until I wake up by Rhys calling me. So I get up and spend the night working on my … blood manipulation… and have my breakfast again, and class, and training with Xaden…and sleep and Training with Rhys again…and so my days go by for the next month. At some point my body gets used to it and everything is more bearable now. So here I am again, standing on the flying field an making Rhys bleed form his almost healed wound again. He told me he got it because Feyre distracted him while training with Cassian.

“Do it again.” Rhys says after his wound closes again… or more like the blood stopped pouring out of it again.

“Isn’t it enough?” I sigh.

“No. Again, one more time Nea.” He smiles.

Focusing my powers, you concentrate on feeling of his blood running through his body, feel how it concentrates on his organs… on his brain.

Do it. A soft voice whispers in my head.

Do it. It speaks again.

It is as if my powers channel themselves, my fingers tickle yet I don’t move a finger. I’m fully consumed by my powers and feeling of Rhys blood in his head.

“N- Nea?” Rhys voice breaks, and his fingers move up to his mouth. Blood starts running… out of his mouth, nose.. ears… and eyes.

“Nea…” he whispers and collapses on the ground.

NEA! Noctis calls inside my head.

STOP NOW.

No… keep going. The soft voice hisses.

DON’T LISTEN TO HER. YOU NEED TO STOP NOW! Noctis screams and throws his tail around, knocking me off my feet. The very second I hit the ground I feel my powers leave. My head is spinning, my ears ring and my breathing is heavy. I don’t understand what happened. Why am I on the ground? Why is blood dripping out of my nose?

NEA HELP HIM NOW! Noctis screams and growls.

Him?… Him… RHYS.

I shoot up and stumble towards him.

He lays flat on his back in a puddle of his own blood. At least the blood stopped running.

Panic starts to rise as I shake him, again and again, calling out his name.

“RHYS!” You cry out, “Rhys please… wake up.”

#acotar oc #acotar x reader #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #azriel fanfic #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #xaden x oc #xaden x reader #xaden riorson #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic

[justcallmefox89]

Inferior Part VI

TW: brief mentions of blood and violence, death.

Something inside me breaks as W’wargaz contemptuously spits out Khou’zal’s name, and the crack formed when Lae’zel struck me explodes into a torrential gale of rage and fear.  The storm heeds my silent call, gathering beneath my skin, roaring to be free.

You always said my emotions would be the end of me, Khou’zal.

With a final wordless apology to my mentor I launch myself at the ch’r’rai, allowing myself a small, pleased smile when he screams in pain as my hands close around his throat.  The storm leaps to escape, channeled through my hands into an inferior vessel.  W’wargaz jerks beneath me as the lightening enters his body, burning him from the inside out, but his feeble attempts aren’t enough to dislodge me.

“Pathetic,” I hiss.  “I expected more fight from you old man, oh revered warrior of Vlaakith.”

“Abomination,” he gasps, his hands scrabbling at my wrists, claws gouging at the skin.

“I am what the githyanki made me,” I whisper, summoning one final surge of lightening.  W’wargaz falls limp; a smoking husk is all that remains of Vlaakith’s Inquisitor.

A pained yelp draws my attention and I stagger to my feet, ready to aid my companions.

Tsk’va!

So far they’ve been able to hold their own, but they’re fading fast.  Astarion clutches his side, firing his crossbow with his free hand.  Gale fires off spells, one after the other, heedless of a split lip and a rapidly forming black eye.  Lae’zel fells one enemy fighter only for two more to take their fallen comrades place.  Knowing the rest of the creche will soon be upon us I frantically consider our options. 

“Argh!”  I whip around at Gale’s cry, just in time to see a gith soldier slash at him with a dagger.  The blade digs into the wizard’s forearm, slicing through the sleeve of his robe and opening a deep gash.  Unthinking, I release a concussive blast that slams the soldier into the far wall of the chamber.  He falls to the ground like a rag doll, his neck broken.  Gale sends me a tight smile of thanks before diving back into the fray.

“Time to end this,” I mutter to myself, closing my eyes and digging deep into the wellspring of my magic, deep enough to summon one last spell.  Magic on such a scale is nearly guaranteed to tear me apart.

A small price to pay if they will live.

I unspool my consciousness, reaching out to touch the minds of my enemies’, for the first time thankful of the increased psionic abilities the ghaik tadpole allows me.  I concentrate, closing out everything else, recalling the words of the wizened old spellcaster who taught me this invocation.

Every living being experiences fear, harness the emotion and turn it against those who opposed you.  Then bend them to your will.

I remember every time another gith made me feel afraid. 

The painful tightening of my muscles, rendering me unable to flee.  Desperately gasping air, trying to in vain to pull oxygen into my lungs, my chest heavy with the sensation of being smothered.  My heart thundering in my chest, so fast I’m certain it will explode and kill me before my so-called kin get a chance. 

I gather all these feelings, using my rage to sharpen their edges and intensify their sting.  With one final breath I gather my magic and brutally shove these sensations into my enemies’ minds.

The screams start first; an unsettling, high pitched keening that raises the hair of the back of my neck and causes my skin to break out in gooseflesh.  I open my eyes to see the githyanki surrounding us wide-eyed in terror, some clutching their chests or attempting to frantically scurry away from whatever personal nightmare my spell has conjured.  Then they start to drop, bodies thudding dully against the stone floor, their constitutions unable to withstand the overwhelming strain generated by their fear.

“What…?”  Astarion whips his head around wildly.  “Are they… Are they all dead?”

“If they’re not dead then they aren’t going to be able to do more than drool and twitch,” I mutter, dangerously unsteady on my feet.  “Should be easy enough to pick off the stragglers.”

Gale rushes forward, wrapping an arm around my waist to keep me upright.  “What did you do?  I’ve never seen a spell like that before?”

I shrug, wondering if I should be concerned that our little group now contains two Gales.  “To be perfectly honest I’m surprised I didn’t blow myself up.”

“You should know better,” Gale snaps, shaking me slightly, an undercurrent of genuine fear to his words.  “You’re lucky you had enough magic to sustain that spell.  Do not ever do anything so risky ever again, you little idiot!”

“I would not let them have you.”  My words slur together, and I catch hold of his robes to steady myself.  “My people have taken much from me, but I will not allow them to have you.”

Gale reaches up and gently cups my face in his hands.  “Do not ever go where I cannot follow,” he whispers, his thumb stroking over me lower lip.  “Promise me.”

I part my lips, ready to agree and then – everything.  goes.  dark.

#bg3 tav #bg3 #astarion bg3 #bg3 gith #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate #tav #astarion #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fandom critical #gale bg3 fanfic #gale #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale x reader #gale x oc #gale fanfic #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 gale #gale x tav #gale x male tav #gale x male reader #bg3 gith tav #gale x gith #bg3 githyanki #gith tav #githyanki

[tiredsn0w]

How’s 049 doing on Kepler with the temperature, gravity, and I’m assuming oxygen changes?

Actually, @fiercefauna is writing a Tale that goes over a lot of that stuff!

I think the biggest thing for him would be the humidity, there is a great deal of fog on Kepler. So, if an endotherm (heat regulating organism) was to do something that requires sweating, it would have a difficult time evaporating so they would not be able to cool down easily.

In terms of the gravity, he may struggle a bit at first, since he's kind of heavy (~100kg) but after a month or two he would be fine again. I see him adjusting pretty easily to it.

Oxygen, I think it would be more difficult, since Kepler has a low oxygen pressure environment. In addition to it being cold (and them being ectothermic amphibians i.e. no way of keeping heat in), that's why hemocyanin is the oxygen carrier in their blood.

Using an oxygen concentrator would be an easy solution though. This is a device that takes the O2 out of the air and condenses it so that the person breathes in more O2 per breath. But I don't know if he would really need one unless he was exerting himself outdoors.

#ask response #planet kepler #scp 049 #scp writing

[smellybead]

OP do you have the essay about how Morro died 👀

Let me access my google docs really quick

Ok bear in mind I am not very good at writing shit and I'm not very good at chemistry but I think I did ok when I wrote this

After leaving Master Wu in search of his destiny and to prove his old master and the Golden Weapons wrong, Morro died in the Caves of Despair while seeking out the First Spinjitsu Master’s Tomb. He died after being trapped in a chamber full of the gas ‘kethanol’ - from a geyser in the chamber. Kethanol is a fictional gas that is extremely flammable and explosive and is released from deep well mining (this information was provided by Zane upon the ninja entering the caves of Despair - S5 EP7, Crooked Paths). While kethanol is not a real gas in our world, we can relate it back to gases that do exist for us and their effects on the human body by examining the location and circumstances of the gas.

So from the information given, we can correlate kethanol back to two likely examples of gas that would exist in a similar environment: hydrogen sulfide (H2S) and carbon monoxide (CO). H2S is a largely natural occurring gas, usually produced when bacteria breaks down organic material (typically in bogs and swamps, hence why it is also referred to as ‘swamp gas’). However, H2S can also be produced by volcanoes, hot springs, thermal vents, and geysers. CO can be sourced from geysers and coal mining. So both of these gases are comparable to kethanol.

And of course, being a fictional gas, kethanol could have drastically different effects on the human body than the gases stated, but these can give us the best guess on how Morro would have been affected in the cave chamber.

Now, in geysers, CO and H2S usually only make up a small amount of the different gases being released and only really occur in minor quantities. However, the composition of gases in spring waters located in fresh, hot volcanic areas is typically quite different. In cases like these, CO is known to be even more prevalent than CO2 (which is usually the most prominent gas). And in some areas, H2S makes up about 20% of active gases. We can consider the chamber in the Caves of Despair volcanic as in the episode ‘Crooked Paths’ (again, S5 EP7), the ninja barely made it out as the geyser violently erupted, spilling lava everywhere.

CO poisoning is generally quite a common issue and in a few cases, where it is allowed to continue to enter the body for longer, results in death. When there is too much CO in the air, your body begins replacing the oxygen in your red blood cells with CO. Depending on the concentration and the size of the person, CO poisoning typically takes about two hours to occur. Symptoms include things such as dizziness, disorientation, nausea/vomiting, chest pain, headaches and weakness but can eventually lead to unconsciousness, seizures, arrhythmias (irregular beating of the heart), and death. A few severe cases of CO poisoning may also involve the skin turning a bright “cherry-red” colour. 

Similarly to CO, large concentrations of H2S can quickly lead to death. While lower amounts of the gas may only result in headaches, loss of appetite, sleep troubles, slight eye and throat irritation, and nausea, strong amounts can lead to staggering, collapse within as little as five minutes (or even nearly instantly if the concentration is at extremely high levels), significant damage to the eyes, and death within 30-60 minutes.

The fatal effects of these two gases are very likely along the lines of what Morro’s death was like. It could have been a mix of these symptoms, or even wildly different but these results can lead us to a decent conclusion of what he would have been experiencing in his final moments.

He makes me so mentally ill /affectionate

#morro #ninjago morro #ninjago #morro ninjago #lego ninjago #morro wu #ninjago theory #lego ninjago morro #zane ninjago #ninjago analysis

[hybbart]

How does Jimmy's breathing work in the apocalypse au? He's sometimes wearing a gas mask, sometimes a breathing tube, and sometimes an oxygen mask, and I'm a little confused about it haha

Yeah it's basically just what they could cobble together that seems to work and with some advice and assistance from Scar and Cub. I'm no expert on any of this stuff so the details are intentionally vague to try and avoid giving as little false info as possible. Plus it's an apocalypse so everything is a makeshift good-enough solution.

More info below.

During the day, before they lost it, Jimmy used a portable oxygen concentration, and at night he uses a breathing machine that was for sleep apnea. I go into most things in detail in this post, so I'll address something I didn't really bring up in that one, which is how they work.

Well, actually a LOT of the things they carry around need power to work, and Tango loves his tech. One of the first thing they plan for in their stops is hydro, and they have a couple generators as well as solar chargers.

They carry an even bigger generator with them now that they have a permanent vehicle, and they seek out places that would have generators (since they stick to the rural areas, that includes a lot of places, though, including private property, so it's not actually that huge of a concern to find as one might think. That's just based on my own experiences with a lot of family in snowy, rural locations.)

The sleep apnea machine is bulky and not very flexible, it's designed with the thought that the person's only using it while sleeping in bed obviously. Totally unusable while scavenging and driving basically. The oxygen machine is portable and more adjustable, but it's also not intended for 24 hour use and needs recharging. Thus they use both at the appropriate time for each.

The gas mask is used for gas mask-y things and was a temporary solution back when they didn't know what was wrong. It's also lost now, though, since it was one of the items they took on their trip to the city that got stolen.

#raau ask #raau notes #raau notes: technology #raau notes: ranchers

[awriternamedart]

infodump on gepard landaus arm (in akrasia)

hi this just a large infodump on how gepards robotic prosthetic arm works in my sampard fanfic Akrasia copied from discord enjoy

so when i started writing akrasia i was doin research into both gepard and sampos character stories to glean any sort of details i could (this was back in launch patch so there was not much for me to work with) so with gepards arm I tried to base as much of it as possible in canon story

the canon details are -

he got it as a reward after a super intense battle from the arcitects (character story)

it is powered by geomarrow (character story maybe lightcone)

and that is it thanks video game give us nothing

so what i came up with is that gepard lost his arm protecting his men somehow

serval (who was an arcitect at some point i remember reading this im p sure but if not thats my hc) managed to convince the arcitects to use some half tested technology to give gepard his arm back, and was the main designer and engineer behind the prosthetic

the way it works is it uses a unique chunk of blue geomarrow stored in the power base that connects to gepards arm. It uses Gepards body heat and blood as a kickstart fuel source, which reacts with the geomarrow core and causes a chemical reaction that produces a very cold vapor as its excess

using the energy from the chemical reaction , thats how his arm is powered and able to function without a need for a charge

however the cold vapor leaks out and condenses into ice like fragments through a sort of resonation with the original geomarrow core, and that can harm the mechanism so serval designed it in a way that could store the vapor in the bulk of the hand kinda like a battery that gepard can discharge

the arm.is also in three main parts - the machinary, the body, and the plating

the machinery is the bulk of the arm, the connector-convertor where the geomarrow core is held, the actual conversion chamber and discharge in the forearm , and the storage in the palm of the hand

the body is the around it, specially.made metal and screens to moniter, plus emergency creviced where ice can safely grow out of should a malfunction happenthe screens (theres two) show both Gepard vitals and the current conversion rate and status of his arm

the second screen is interactable and gepard can change around some of the rates n stuff for different scenerios

the plating is purely decorative

its the armor on the outside of the body, a mixture of cloth and classic metal armor plating , and its designed to make the arm look more like a gauntlet then an arm

he only wears the plating when hes on duty, but hes not ashamed of having lost his arm its just tiring to answer questions and it makes life a bit simpler, plus his punches land harder with the armor plating

when he first got the implant surgery and the arm itself it was super draining for him, since it took heat and oxygen from his blood to create the reaction that powers the arm in a way his body was not prepared for

it was really high risk and really stressful for the entire testing process , and it took quite a bit of gepards concentration to control it properly since it is integrated into his neural systems

the worst of it sent him into a multiweek coma from exhaustion alone and they nearly gave up on making the arm work but he insisted on it, knowing that if it worked he could go back to the frontlines and go back to his duty

eventually it did obviously work , but he had to train alot for it since his major issue with it was stamina and concentration

but once he mastered it he realized that he could also manipulate the vapor because of its connection to the geomarrow core and its connection to him and from there he figured out how to create "barrier energy" or a shield , by having the vapor basically cling to a persons body and harden into ice on impact, softening the blow or halting it entirely

he also takes it off to sleep because since concentration is a huge part of his control over it, when hes asleep the vapor will leak out and freeze sometimes , he found this out onxe when he fell asleep with it on and woke up to his room being frozen over

the unique thing about the vapor is that the ice it creates is not really "ice' it just looks like it and kinda feels like it though its not freezing cold to touch

its like cold but not ice cold

lukecold f you will

and he can use this ice as either actual barriers and shields, spires that produce the barrier energy mist (ex the spires on his ingame model gauntlet) and also he can use it on offensive but rarely does so because hes not confident in his exact control and hes to worried about it hurting the wrong person

it also doesnt melt it shatters, and then turns into the vapor which then disappates as its mixed in with oxygen and whatever else jarilos atmosphere is made of

but yeah i think thats the bulk of gepards arms lore that i made

#gepard #gepard landau #landau #fanfic #honkai star rail #hsr #fanfiction #akrasia #read akrasia i put far to much energy into it /hj #gepards arm is a prosthetic and i will die on this hill #headcanon #hc #gepo #sampard #to atttact my people

[monocle-teacup]

I feel like Mandroid is in desperate need of a good shower cry so I wrote a little side story that takes place early in my Lotus AU. This is Final Form Mandroid BTW.

Stephen let out a sigh as the water hit his body. Since the shower head was actually just a garden hose with a special nozzle, he couldn’t change the temperature. That suited him perfectly since his armor generated so much heat. In the past, he was meticulous about his appearance, but the simple act of showering became lost to him as a result of being ill and Croft taking away the Arachnamechs that helped him undress.

He was immediately suspicious when Tara’s demeanor changed when she mentioned asking him something. Even though he was insulted, he begrudgingly gave her credit for actually going through with her inquiry about his ability to bathe. In truth, he was thrilled when she offered to build him a shower. The thought of showing that happiness was out of the question. She already saw him being a pathetic wretch too many times for his liking. He was still waiting for her to throw that fact back in his face.

Tara made the shower so that he could remove the hose to easily spray himself off. Dirty brown water fell to the ground as he angled the stream all over. His organic arms were able to feel the cold water in all its glory. If it were possible he would’ve stood in the shower all day. However, if he took too long his host would no doubt come to check on him. With the limited time he had, it was now or never. 

Lowering his window, he stuck his head out. The inside of his body was infused with oxygen, but inhaling fresh air made him remember when he was fully human. That wasn’t his aim at the moment though.

Adjusting the nozzle to a light drizzle, he closed his eyes and basked in the sensation of his human skin being doused with water. The chill that assailed his senses was welcome. Almost anything was better than feeling the rage and despair almost all of his days now consisted of. 

He couldn’t stop the tears from running down his face while he used the cloth Tara gave him. It was the same kind she had on hand to wipe his head months ago at GHOST. The softness of the fabric was something he craved. He knew but didn’t care that he was being pathetic right now. With how deadly his claws were, many would be shocked to see how gently he rubbed his scalp with the rag. It was as close as he was going to get to sliding his hand through his hair. 

Regretfully finishing his face, he moved to his arms. His muscles glistened in the sun, highlighting the bulges and lines. Due to how the musculature was designed, he was essentially flexing his arms most of the time. He couldn’t deny enjoying such an automatic display of the power he possessed. The ability to stretch as well as handle Cybertronians like they were toys was immensely satisfying.

The cloth felt wonderful on his synthetic skin. Being able to experience actual touch was something he was truly grateful for. The air blowing around him, texture, temperature. Each one was a wondrous occasion for him despite not feeling the same as when he was a human. The technology he now consisted of was able to interpret stimuli in a much different way than what a person was used to. His mind almost fractured from being overwhelmed upon first waking up from the transition. Yet, he persevered. 

And now it had all been for nothing.

Frowning, he shifted his head to a rear window to concentrate on his back. The metal wasn’t as sensitive as his organic parts, but it was more responsive than when he had Transformer arms. He used the other cloth provided to quickly clean his robotic half. His red arms effortlessly reached every inch of him so that it didn’t take long to focus on his front. If he had a sponge with a handle he would have been able to get the job done faster. The only thing his tail needed was a few passes with the rag. By the time he was done, his entire body was shining. 

“Let’s see her say I’m filthy now.” he muttered with a smile.

#tf #tfe #transformers earthspark #tf earthspark #earthspark #dr. meridian #mandroid #tfe mandroid #headcanon #earthspark mandroid #fic #fanfic #my writing #lotus au

[kickingitwithkirk]

When Reality is Worse than the Lies they told Me

Summary: The Boys have come to hide out with you

Pairing: Solder Boy x Reader

Word Count: 1609

*Do not read if you find anything offensive-triggering about/on/from The Boys series

Warnings: cursing, verbal arguments, loads of marajuna, cursing, sexist Supe, more cursing, physical altercations, knife wielding, still cursing, outdated slang, toxic male attitudes, lots of cursing, reader has a secret, Soldier Boy thinking he’s the man

Part I Part II Part III

*additional tags to be added in next parts

Square Filled: @howbadcanitbebingo -OOC to the max

A/N: I’m using season 3 as a template for this so it will contain spoilers from the series mixed with original ideas

A/N II: this was originally a one shot but have so many notes/ideas jotted down it’ll now be multi-part, just not sure how many

*gif credit to creator

2:54 AM

There is a surreal picture happening in front of you.

Three duffel bags, a brass colored, eagle emblemed shield are sitting on the floor, Hughie and Butcher are arguing about something as Soldier Boy is casually leaning against a door-jam lighting up a ginormous joint.

“Butcher, please explain why a fucking dead man is standing in my living room smoking Sasquatch's doobie and does you being here have anything to do with that shitshow in Vermont?”

“Yeah, sorry about this love,” Butcher says, “our little trip turned into a cock up in a tin hat and was hoping you’re in a position to help us out..”

“This is bullshit!” The Supe interrupted, “there’s got to be better places than this,” pointedly waves the joint, “middle of bumfuck nowhere..” he continues ranting and you detect something new laced through his deep voice that wasn’t there before.

“Oi, tosser, show the lady some respect. If you'd kept your prick in your pants instead of the help, Legend wouldn't have given us the boot.”

“Wow..talk about recycling.”

Soldier Boy sneers at your comment.

“Look Granny Fucker, I still don’t give two shits about your tiff with Payback but you best remember..I gave your radioactive arse Crimsom Countess and TNT Twins on a fucking platter and how’d you repay it? By loosing your shit and blowing up fucking Herogasm! So if I say we’re laying low for a bit longer..”

Butcher continues running his mouth then does the universal dumbass maneuver men can’t stop themselves from doing..getting right up in the Supes grill. You knew this had to be stopped before the Supe lost his shit and destroyed your home too.

“Godfuckingdammit you dillholes knock the macho man bullshit off!”

Soldier Boy's eyes are suddenly locked on you, darkening into a fierce viridian color as a rage bubbles up that wasn’t there seconds ago, making Butcher step back holding up his hands when Hughie suddenly disappears.

You felt a continuous current skittering over your skin as if the oxygen is being drawn out of the room when it dawns on you; you’re perceiving his new abilities from the decades of torturous experimentations done by the Russians when something behind you snapped his concentration.

Unsheathing the blade you always kept on your person whip around when Butcher grabs your wrist..how the fuck did he just stop your death blow to..Hughie?

A very naked, guilty looking Hughie quickly covers his junk.

“Kitchen Now!!!”

Slamming the pocket doors dividing the rooms shut does nothing to muffle your yelling.

“Fucking hell Butcher, you dumbfucks are shooting Temp V! How is it possible you motherfucking cunts have gotten even more stupid and for what..to get Homelander? You’d risk permanently fucking yourself up with that untested shit and take Hughie down too? I don’t know where to..and Soldier Boy..you’ve gone off the rails with that one. Goddamn it..you better start thinking with that lump three feet above your ass ‘cause this path..it’s gonna get us all dead you arrogant sonuvabitch!”

“If you’re done running that fucking mouth I can explain..”

Hughie quickly redressed and pressed his ear against the door trying to hear the now subdued conversation while Soldier Boy made himself comfortable kicking back in the oversized recliner.

“Take a load off kid, they’re gonna be at it awhile. So, how do you know?” He gestures toward the doors.

“Y/N..she was one of the original members Mallory recruited.”

“Hmm, gotta hand it to Captain Lesbos, she sure knew how’ta pick’em.” He lights up another joint, “that one there, grade A choice piece of ass.”

Hughie gaped at him, “what? You can’t tell me you haven’t rubbed one out fantasizing about that sweet pussy.”

“My god, you really need to get up to speed on how women are treated today because that attitude..”

“Fuck, you guys nowadays, really have lost your balls,” the Supe took a long drag, “don’t sweat it kid, stick with me and you’ll grow them back. Look at Butcher, he’s old school so he’ll set her straight.”

“What the hell does that mean-set her straight?”

“In my day when a woman got her feathers ruffled, you had to pacify them.”

“Pacify them?”

“You know..soothe the waters by using a bit of flattery, sweet talk them if you need to, remind them they needn't to worry their pretty heads about anything but looking good for you. And if that didn’t work, get a bit rough, remind them what a man’s for.”

Hughie’s eyebrows shot up, “holy mother of god, you really are a chauvinistic dinosaur,” he’s remarking as the doors reopened, “better than being a pussyboy,” the Supe shot back.

Butcher enters with a cat that ate the cream expression, “told ya,” the Supe crowed.

You shot the Supe a dirty look, “While you’re staying here, there’s a few ground rules: do not enter any room that’s locked. Also, I’m not a maid so clean up after yourselves and at mealtimes, y'all help out or do without.”

As you continue Butcher grabs his duffel and tossed Hughie his, “you guys have the second floor, pick whatever room you want. Oh, and don’t touch any of the decor, just assume it’s lethal because most of it is.”

“And Hughie, next time you jump around me, you’d better have figured out how to keep your pants on or,” pointedly peering down at his crotch, “Annie’s gonna be referring to you as her ex-girlfriend.”

Hughie’s blanching made Butcher bark out a laugh, pushing him towards the stairs, “no worries love, he’ll mind his P’s, Q’s and knickers.”

Once they're out of earshot you turn to face the Supe who’s haunted your memories for decades and who’s now made himself quite comfortable in your favorite chair.

“You awaiting an engraved invitation, your hindass.”

“That’s quite a mouth you’ve got on you.”

“Been told I'm a talented..”

“Oralator?”

“Let’s get a few things straight jag off. I overheard what you said and those antiquated beliefs of yours don’t rattle me, I’m no shrinking violet.”

It’s taken a chance but you place your hands on the chair arms leaning towards him, “I won’t tolerate any of your bullshit. Man, the stuff I’ve heard about what you did to your teammates when you thought they were gonna upstage..”

You didn’t finish because your breath is momentarily interrupted from hitting the wall across the room felt him vibrating with anger and his knife against your jugular.

“SHUT UP YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKING BITCH ASS CUNT!”

“BLOW IT OUT YOUR BARRACKS BAG!”

“Oi..do we have a problem?”

Butchers standing halfway down the stairs glowering over the rail at the knife wielding Supe so you plaster on your sweetest, fake ass smile, “no problem, just a misunderstanding we’re getting sorted..right?”

The Supe resheathed his knife, “yeah..we’re good.”

It’s easy to see Butcher doesn’t believe either of you but doesn’t push it goes back upstairs then the Supe slapped both his hands flat on the wall by your shoulders boxing you between them.

The fierceness in Soldier Boys eyes is dissipating, he’s now unabashedly checking out your body, biting on his bottom lip.

These switches in demeanor are given you whiplash.

“Nobody’s said that to me since WWII. Makes me curious,” his voice becoming gentler as he slowly lowered his head, “where’d a foxy thing like you pick up that slang?”

Popping the top buttons off your sleep shirt he slips the loosened material over a shoulder buries his face into the curve of your neck inhaling your scent. His breath shifts, coming out in warm puffs on your skin, “why do you smell so fucking good?”

His beard is softer than you would’ve imagined as it brushes over your skin as his full lips glide over your neck, “getting me all worked up here baby,” rolls his hardening length against your thigh.

The rush of arousal coursing through you is interrupted by a deep, almost cramp like sensation that snaps you out of your hormone laden stuper.

You place both hands against his Kevlar, “okay big boy, need to shift it back into neutral.”

He pulls back genuinely baffled, “just because you know how to flip a girl's switch doesn’t mean she’s ready to drop her knickers.”

The heat in his eyes blew out and his expression turned sour.

“Cocktease.”

You grip the Kevlar chest piece and spun him into the storage door under the stairs splintering it.

“While you’re a guest in my home, I expect to be treated with decency and respect.”

Taking a calculated risk, you release the still shocked Supe but don't put any distance between you.

“There’s a difference between being a man, I’m not talking about what’s being sold today, but a genuine one, who’s not only strong but earns and reciprocates the respect of others.”

Soldier Boy opens his mouth to shoot out one of his retorts when you can’t suppress the flinch of pain crossing your features stops him short and, once again, shifts gears, a concerned look crosses his perfect features as he sniffs the air confused, “are you alright?”

 “Being woken up before the butt crack of dawn never agrees with me,” you smart off, hoping he’ll buy the ruse. “Well, this has been stimulating but I need my beauty sleep.”

You turn heading for your room at the back of the house feeling his eyes watching you, trying to suss out what just happened between you two.

Pausing at your bedroom door, turn to look back at him.  

“You’re not the lost cause they think you are Ben.”

***

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @b3autyfuldisast3r @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67

Dean/Jensen @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl @akshi8278 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl

#soldier boy #solder boy x you #soldier boy x reader #billy butcher #hughie campbell #the boys #the boys au

[macgyvermedical]

Abduction + Memory + Time + Fireworks + Dispersal thank goodness they didn't do seven seasons of this naming convention...

Okay folks, even though this aired quite a while ago I just now watched it, so I'm just now writing about it.

Awl - X-Ray + Penny - Duct Tape + Jack - CD + Hoagie Foil - Guts + Fuel + Hope - Wilderness + Training + Survival - Father + Bride + Betrayal - Lidar + Rogues + Duty - Nightmares - Seeds + Permafrost + Feather - Friends + Enemies + Border - Mason + Cable + Choices - Bitter Harvest - Kid + Plane + Cable + Truck - Tesla + Bell + Edison + Mac - Golden Lancehead + Venom + Pole Vault + Blood + Baggage

In conclusion to the nanotracker story arc, Mac and Riley go missing for over 24 hours. When they reappear, not only have they no memory of the previous day, but video footage shows them obeying dozens of commands, including one to fight each other and one to fire a weapon at a mannequin (though based on a line Mac says later, this horrifyingly might not have been the original version of this scene).

Vowing not to allow their bodies to be used against their will again, Mac and Riley decide to undergo a potentially dangerous treatment- exposing the nanites to high concentrations of oxygen in a hyperbaric chamber.

Just because mind control nanites are still pretty science fiction, this post will mostly be about hyperbaric medicine.

Hyperbaric Chambers:

Hyperbaric oxygen treatment is a type of treatment that uses high pressure and high oxygen concentrations to treat a variety of illnesses and injuries. These include things like non-healing wounds, crush injuries, carbon monoxide poisoning, cyanide poisoning, severe infections, and delayed radiation injuries.

A patient is placed into a chamber like the one above (though there are also larger chambers that can accommodate multiple people). Oxygen or medical air is then forced into the chamber, increasing the pressure to the prescribed depth. Depths vary depending on patient needs and the capabilities of the chamber, but can be anywhere from 1.4 atmospheres to over 6 atmospheres.

The high pressure and high oxygen concentration in the hyperbaric chamber allows oxygen to dissolve directly into the blood plasma. This helps higher concentrations of oxygen get to parts of the body that may not have the best circulation (non-healing wounds, crush injuries), give a boost of oxygen to parts of the body that need it (severe infections, delayed radiation injuries), or provide oxygen when the hemoglobin can't carry it (carbon monoxide poisoning, cyanide poisoning). The high pressure helps reduce the size of errant bubbles in the blood stream as well, which can treat the symptoms of air embolism and decompression sickness. The pressure is then gradually reduced to allow the bubbles to dissolve without severe pain.

Oxygen Toxicity:

In the episode, Mac and Riley require very high concentrations of oxygen in their blood in order to poison the nanites. Like any medical treatment, there are risks to hyperbaric oxygen therapy. Most of them have to do with air pockets in the body. These include barotrauma cause by bubbles under tooth fillings, in the sinus cavities, and the air in the inner ear which can expand and contract, causing pain. They can also include oxygen toxicity, which can be lung-related (burning pain, cough, difficulty breathing), or nervous system related (seizures).

In the episode, Mac suffers the latter type of complication when he has a seizure at 3.5 atmospheres. Seizures are a very rare complication (about 0.7 out of 10,000 treatments will result in a seizure), but oxygen toxicity does lower the seizure threshold. This means that for someone with a pre-existing seizure disorder or another reason they might have a seizure (low blood sugar, certain drugs, fever in children, etc...) they are more likely to have a seizure during a treatment.

Mac also was more likely to have oxygen toxicity than the typical person undergoing hyperbaric oxygen therapy. See, when a person is "at depth" in a chamber, they have a mask they can wear to give them room air (about 21% oxygen) at periodic intervals in order to prevent oxygen toxicity. Since the goal was to give Mac oxygen toxicity to kill the nanites, they likely forewent this precaution, which might have made it a lot more likely he would have had pulmonary complications or seizures.

The Bends:

Because he was in the chamber when he had the seizure, they decompress him and get him out of the chamber. It seems to take only seconds, even though they do hang a lantern on it by saying something to the effect of "we can't decompress him too quickly or he'll get the bends and then we'll never get him back!" (I'd quote it exactly but they took the episode off of Paramount+).

In reality, it would have taken at least an hour to adequately decompress him. If they needed to get him out as fast as they did, they'd need to re-compress him or he really would get the bends (though the bends is usually delayed by 15 minutes to 12 hours, so they'd have some time to get him back to depth). Here is a recommended re-compression table (18 MSW is the same as 1.8 atmospheres):

Has someone written that fic? Cause I need the fic where they have to break it to Mac that he has to go back into the chamber.

Anyway, this was a short one, but I hope you all learned something!

#macgyver #macgyver 2016 #whump reference #writing reference #hyperbaric chambers #hyperbaric oxygen therapy #oxygen toxicity