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#weight loss device
valiantkittyzombie · 4 months
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Liddell Homeopathic Weight Loss XL is a natural way to help temporarily relieve the side effects of dieting. Helps balance metabolism and temporarily relive common symptoms of a reducing diet.
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emmeroberts · 1 year
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#I found this weeks readings to be very thought provoking especially around the ideas of security#surveillance#and privacy. While I enjoyed all the readings#the one that particularly grabbed my attention and made me think hardest about the future of technology was the Google Glass article. Befor#I had never heard of this product and was shocked to learn the many flaws and potential flaws the devices creates. While reading that artic#what matters is who is pointing it and why”. And I think his argument that cameras don’t can be used for entertainment#capture of certain moments in time#as a hobby etc#but also have very invasive capabilities and can be turned into an issue of privacy very quickly is so true. So when I read the google glas#I tried to consider the “why” behind the constantly recording glasses#and I believe that any why or reason someone could make up isn’t strong enough to justify unsolicited and potentially saved recording of ot#but of everyone other than the user.” When he brought up the possibilities of Google Glass becoming connected with other google software an#I immediately thought of “cancel culture.” Cancel culture has been so prominent recently and while people must be responsible for their act#there are many people trying to cancel others for exaggerated#foolish things. While I was reading I considered the possible inflation of cancel culture and potential plotted destruction of others futur#promoting weight loss diet#These truly non offensive things were enlarged to try and bring down these celebrities and I figure without proper consent and privacy meas
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bestgooglebooster · 3 months
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The Top 5 Slimming Belts for Post-Pregnancy: Regaining Confidence After Childbirth
The journey of pregnancy and childbirth is a miraculous and life-altering experience for women. However, the aftermath often includes changes in the body, particularly around the abdomen. Slimming belts have emerged as a popular aid for postpartum recovery, offering support and compression to help women regain their pre-pregnancy shape.
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Here are five of the best slimming belts recommended for post-pregnancy:
Belly Bandit Original Postpartum Belly Wrap: Renowned for its effectiveness, this wrap is designed to shrink the uterus and support abdominal muscles. Made with stretchable and breathable material, it adapts to your body's changes, providing comfortable compression and core stability.
Bracoo Postpartum Support Belt: Crafted from soft and breathable fabric, this belt offers adjustable compression and support for both the abdomen and lower back. Its versatility and durability make it a popular choice among new mothers seeking postpartum support.
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ChongErfei 3-in-1 Postpartum Support Recovery Belly Wrap: This innovative wrap comes with three separate belts for distinct stages of postpartum recovery. It provides varying levels of compression and support, catering to the changing needs of the body as it heals and readjusts.
UpSpring Baby Shrinkx Belly Postpartum Belly Wrap: Engineered to target the lower belly, this wrap is designed with bamboo charcoal fiber, promoting a soothing experience for sensitive postpartum skin. Its discreet and slim design allows for comfortable wear under clothing.
TNT Pro Series Waist Trimmer Belt: While not specifically designed for postpartum use, this waist trimmer belt is favored by some postpartum women due to its effective compression and support. It aids in sweat induction, potentially assisting in shedding excess water weight around the abdomen.
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When choosing a slimming belt after pregnancy, consider these key factors:
1. Comfort: Look for belts made from breathable and skin-friendly materials to prevent irritation. Adjustable closures allow for a personalized and comfortable fit as your body transitions during the postpartum period.
2. Support and Compression: Opt for a belt that strikes the right balance between providing adequate support and gentle compression without causing discomfort. It should aid in stabilizing the abdominal area and promoting muscle recovery.
3. Size and Fit: Ensure the belt fits snugly without being overly tight. Most postpartum belts are adjustable to accommodate changes in body size during recovery.
4. Quality and Durability: Invest in a belt made from high-quality materials that maintain elasticity and compression over time, enduring frequent use during the postpartum period.
Before using any slimming belt or postpartum support garment, it's essential to consult your healthcare provider. They can provide personalized advice considering your unique postpartum recovery needs.
While a slimming belt can offer support and aid in the postpartum recovery process, remember that it's only one part of the equation. A balanced diet, staying hydrated, light exercises as recommended by your healthcare provider, and patience are crucial components of a healthy postpartum journey.
Email: [email protected] Business Category: Mother And Baby Care Products Owner Name: Fairshopi
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Infrared Light Therapy for Full Body
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loveandscience · 1 year
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X_X
Doctor: *makes a slight comment about how my weight went up a little since the last visit*
My disordered eating thoughts: Yes, you should start counting calories every single day again. This is because you slacked on working out and ate when you were hungry too often. You are way off track and you're going to get sleep apnea again and die in your sleep. In fact, didn't you feel it start up again last night? That's because you're going to die.
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vipetas · 1 month
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i. the radio's revival
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The worst possible scenario just unfolded before Alastor's eyes—his beloved antique radio broke.
He stood in stunned silence, his usual jovial expression replaced by one of utter disbelief as the once-majestic device now lay in pieces, its intricate components scattered across the floor. With a heavy heart, he knelt beside the shattered remnants, his gloved fingers tracing the familiar contours with a sense of mourning.
It was a futile gesture, he knew, but he couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss for the part of himself that had been taken away with it. For Alastor, the radio was more than just a mere object; it was a piece of his identity. Each scratch, each dent held a story, a memory of a bygone era that now lay at ruins at his feet.
In that moment, he felt more vulnerable than ever before, stripped of the facade of invincibility he had carefully cultivated over decades. However, as he surveyed the damage, the vulnerability was quickly replaced by a flood of other emotions–anger, frustration, disappointment. How could something so precious, so irreplaceable, be lost in an instant?
The faint sound of shuffling feet then drew his attention. As he gazed up, one of the egg boys—those bumbling, loyal lackeys of Sir Pentious—timidly stepped forward with a sheepish expression.
“Uh, sorry about that, mister Radio Demon, sir. It was an accident,” the egg boy mumbled, his voice tinged with guilt.
Alastor's eye twitched in annoyance at the feeble excuse. Accidents were one thing, but this? This was inexcusable. His patience, already stretched thin, threatened to snap as he struggled to contain his frustration.
“Sorry?” Alastor repeated through gritted teeth. “Sorry won’t fix what’s been broken, now will it?”
The egg boys exchanged nervous glances, their carefree demeanor faltering under Alastor's withering gaze. “We didn't mean to, Mr. Alastor,” another one of them stammered. 
Yet it was far too late for apologies. Alastor's frustration bubbled over like a pot ready to boil, and with a growl of irritation, his form began to shift. With each passing second, his horns extended, his body swelled in size, and his once elegant silhouette towered over the trembling egg boys like a vengeful deity.
The egg boys recoiled in terror, their eyes wide with horror as they watched Alastor's transformation unfold before them. In their panicked mind, they could only imagine the worst—that Alastor, in his fury, would devour them whole.
Just as their fear reached its peak, Sir Pentious burst onto the scene. Positioning himself between the egg boys and the Radio Demon, his voice rang out in a chorus of apologies.
“Mr. Alastor, sir, I must beg for your forgiveness on behalf of my hapless egg boys,” he pleaded desperately. “They meant no harm, I assure you. It was a mere accident, a foolish mistake!”
Alastor's gaze narrowed as he observed Sir Pentious. As the snake demon continued to shower him with apologies, Alastor suddenly remembered the reason they were all gathered here in the first place—a party, of all things. With a wry smile, he glanced around at the other residents of the hotel, noting the fear etched onto their faces. The sight of their unease might've amused him under different circumstances, but the loss of something so precious to him soured his mood.
With a shake of his head, he allowed his form to shrink back to its normal size. As his horns receded and his imposing presence diminished, he felt the tension ebb from his body, the anger gradually fading away.
But that didn’t mean that all was forgiven.
“What, pray tell, am I supposed to do with my broken radio now?” Alastor's voice dripped with barely contained frustration as he shot a piercing gaze at Sir Pentious. 
Sir Pentious, visibly sweating under the weight of Alastor's glare, scrambled to offer a solution. “Ah, well, fear not,” he stuttered, his words coming out in a nervous rush. “I happen to know a mechanic—a fixer, if you will. Someone who can repair anything, no matter how... delicate.”
Alastor's eyebrow arched in skepticism, though a faint flicker of interest danced in his eyes. "Is that so?" he mused, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. He had his doubts about Sir Pentious' ability to deliver on such a promise, but at this point, he was willing to entertain any possibility.
“And where can I find this mechanic of yours?”
Following the instructions scribbled hastily on the back of a crumpled receipt, Alastor eventually found himself in the slums of Pentagram City. The narrow alleyways led him to what appeared to be a workshop, its exterior bearing the signs of neglect and decay. The windows were grimy, patches of paint flaked off the weathered walls, and the sign above the entrance barely hung on by a single rusty nail.
It was a far cry from the elegance he was accustomed to, and he couldn't help but feel a familiar surge of anger rising within him. This was the place that was supposed to hold the solution to his problem? The Radio Demon scoffed inwardly, doubting that anyone within these walls possessed the skill or expertise to repair something as delicate as his beloved radio.
Still, he pressed on. Pushing open the creaking door, he was met with a gust of stale air, tinged with the scent of oil and metal. Inside, the workshop was a scene of disarray. Tools lay scattered across workbenches, and half-finished projects cluttered every available surface. The walls were lined with shelves overflowing with spare parts, some of which appeared to be salvaged from long-forgotten machinery.
Alastor's lips curled into a disdainful sneer as he absorbed the surroundings. Then, his gaze fell upon the lone figure, hunched over a nearby table—you.
As he drew closer, you finally looked up, and to Alastor's surprise, you greeted him with a wide smile.
“Hi there! What can I do for you?”
Alastor's sneer deepened at the sight of the chipper mechanic, a stark contrast to the grim atmosphere of the workshop. He had half-expected to find someone as worn down and weathered as the building itself, yet here stood this bright-eyed individual, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around them.
Suppressing a sigh, Alastor straightened up, the edges of his grin faltering ever so slightly. “Good evening,” he began. “My name is Alastor, and I'm here because I was told you might be able to fix something for me.”
Your smile widened at his words, and you nodded eagerly. “Of course! What seems to be the problem?”
Alastor hesitated for a moment, eyeing you warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that entrusting his precious radio to you was a mistake. Yet, he had little choice in the matter.
“My antique radio is in need of repair,” Alastor explained, his tone guarded. “It's a delicate piece of machinery, and I require someone with the utmost skill to handle it.”
You listened intently as Alastor detailed the intricacies of his radio, nodding along with each word. Despite his cautious demeanor, you could sense the underlying concern in his voice. It was clear that this radio held great significance to him.
As he finished speaking, you gave him another nod. “I understand, Mr. Alastor,” you reassured him. “You won't be disappointed, I promise. Now, let's take a look at what you've got there.”
With that, you gestured for Alastor to follow you to your workbench, where he finally presented the fragmented piece of machinery. As you laid eyes on the broken radio, it became immediately apparent to you just how extensively damaged it was. Fractured casings, tangled wires, missing components–it was a daunting sight, yet you refrained from revealing the true severity of the damage to Alastor, not wanting to add to his distress. Instead, you maintained a composed demeanor as you turned to look at him with a confident grin.
“We'll get this sorted out, Mr. Alastor,” you assured him once more. “Leave it to me.”
Alastor felt a flicker of hope stir in his blackened heart at the prospect of having his radio fixed. Though a hint of doubt still lingered at the back of his mind, he nodded begrudgingly.
“Very well," he muttered. "Just... be careful with it.”
As Alastor stepped back, allowing you the space to work your magic, his eyes remained fixed on you with keen interest. He observed the fluidity of your movements, the subtle shifts in your expression. Whenever you encountered a challenge, your brows furrowed in concentration, and with each successful repair, a hint of satisfaction graced your lips. Alastor found himself unconsciously mirroring your expressions as he watched your steady hands diligently work to bring his beloved radio back to life.
And as time passed, so too did his initial skepticism begin to wane, replaced by a growing sense of admiration for your skill and expertise. There was something captivating about the way you worked, a sense of determination and passion that shone through with every meticulous movement.
At last, after what felt like an eternity, you made the final adjustment. With bated breath, you flicked the switch and awaited the outcome. The room fell into a tense silence, thick with anticipation. Then, suddenly, a burst of static erupted, followed by the unmistakable sound of music emanating from the speakers.
Alastor's eyes widened in disbelief as the once-silent device surged back to life. Your face lit up with a triumphant smile as you savored his reaction, a sense of pride swelling within you.
“There you go, Mr. Alastor,” you declared, extending the repaired radio toward him. “Good as new!”
As Alastor reached out to accept the radio from you, his fingers inadvertently brushed against yours in a fleeting moment of contact. In that instant, a jolt of electricity seemed to course through him, sending a distinct shiver down his spine.
It was a curious sensation, one that he couldn't quite place, yet it stirred something deep within him.
Even after withdrawing his hand, the feeling lingered, leaving Alastor perplexed. His gaze shifted from the repaired radio to your face, searching for any indication that you too had felt the same inexplicable energy pulse between you. However, your smile remained unchanged, oblivious to the tumult of emotions swirling within him.
“Thank you,” he finally murmured, his voice softer than usual, betraying a hint of sincerity that caught even him off guard. “You did a remarkable job.”
You beamed in response, your eyes alight with satisfaction at Alastor's words. “You're welcome,” you replied gently. “I'm glad I could be of help. And remember, if you ever need anything else, you know where to find me.”
Alastor offered a subtle nod of gratitude, though inwardly, he found himself oddly reluctant to leave. Nevertheless, he tucked the repaired radio under his arm and turned on his heel, heading towards the door. Stepping out into the dimly-lit street, he walked with deliberate steps. His thoughts drifted back to the moment his fingers brushed against yours, and despite his attempts to push the memory aside, his free hand instinctively flexed, fingers curling into a tight fist before relaxing once more.
This was going to be a problem.
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part i / part ii
thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed<3
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slyandthefamilybook · 1 month
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okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse
What was the Key Bridge?
The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.
Was it structurally sound?
The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.
What was the ship?
The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).
Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.
The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.
What happened?
The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.
At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.
What was the damage?
The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.
The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied
Who was hurt?
The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:
Miguel Luna from El Salvador
Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras
Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.
Rescue Efforts
The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.
No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.
Aftermath
At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):
"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."
At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):
"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."
At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.
More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.
Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.
Was it intentional?
According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".
Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".
At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.
Sources
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7
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mistydeyes · 7 months
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I had an idea for a fic you might enjoy writing! Reader is injured in the abdomen during a mission (maybe a building collapse with a lil bit of impalement?) Which in itself is a great angst opportunity, but when She's medevac'd to a hospital to have surgery it ends up she is no longer able to have kids due to the damage. BUT WAIT 🫸 this isn't a run of the mill "upset because she can't have kids fic" everyone's worried about what her reaction to the news is going to be. But it turns out she NEVER wanted kids and is actually super cool with the fact she's sterile now? I just thought it would be fun twist! 🥚 Anon
ahhh thank you so much for requesting!! this is such a unique idea especially the little twist at the end :)
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summary: After a sudden building collapse, you are left recovering in the hospital with an injury to your lower abdomen. You surprise the team when you tell them, that in your opinion, it hadn't hit anything vital.
pairing: Task Force 141 x platonic!fem!reader
warnings: swearing, depictions of violence and injury, medical inaccuracies/terminology
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"IRIS, IRIS GET OUT OF THERE!" was the last thing you heard before your sight was darkened by falling rubble from the war-torn building. As you felt the crushing weight of concrete and miscellaneous items on your chest, you couldn't help but feel the warmth of liquid around your lower half. The air smelled sickly of iron as you slipped in and out of consciousness. You tried to feel around with a free arm but your tac vest was pinned and your comm spewed out random static and the loose strings of words. As your peripheral vision began to cloud with darkness, you could hear the thundering of boots towards your location. You felt a small smile on your lips before you fell completely out of consciousness.
When you woke up, the bed felt cold and the sheets offered minimal comfort. You tried to sit up but were pulled by tubes running throughout your body. You could hear the monitor beside your bed rapidly beep as your heart rate rose at the unfamiliar surroundings. The charge nurse came rushing in, reassuring you to lie back down as she clicked a few buttons on the monitor. As you cautiously laid down, she calmly took a breath and explained she would help to take out the tube currently lodged in your nostrils. "Hold your breath now, love," she calmly instructed before swiftly removing the device and allowing you to breathe in the fresh sterile air. You coughed for a few moments before she returned with a cup of ice chips. "Where am I?" you asked in between your crunches. "Base medical," she explained as she disposed of the nasogastric tube, "you were flown in yesterday." You nodded as you slowly swallowed some of the remaining water. "The doctor will want to talk to you though so I'll be back to check on you soon," she smiled and without another word, you were left alone in the room.
Almost on schedule, the doctor entered your room. As she hastily put on gloves and checked on your vitals, you sat there patiently. "Mind if I take a look under?" she asked and you nodded before you felt her cold hands move the lower half of your gown. As you met her gaze at your abdomen, you felt nauseous. "Are those stitches?" you asked shakily and she nodded as she fixed your gown. "You came in last night stabbed through and through with some rebar," she explained, taking a seat next to your bed, "your team was smart enough to carry you with it still in to minimize the blood loss." Your mouth felt dry as she continued and you couldn't shake that image of your iodine-stained and stitched stomach. "We were able to stabilize you but," she hesitated, "but unfortunately it penetrated through your uterus." Upon hearing this, you breathed a sigh of relief. As she looked at you skeptically, you were more than happy to share your life plan.
"You have some visitors, ma'am," the nurse called, making you feel much older than you were. As the curtain was pulled back, you smiled upon seeing the rest of the team. "Yer alive!" Soap exclaimed and was immediately met with a slap on the back by Ghost. "Alive with some shitty food more like it," you replied as you put aside your jello cup, "they have me on a liquid and soft foods diet." "We heard about that," Price said as he walked over, "how are you holding up?" "I'm doing alright, doctor told me it didn't hit anything major," you replied happily, to the surprise of the surrounding group. "But, it went through your lower stomach and…" Gaz trailed off as he averted his eyes from your body. "My uterus Garrick?" you said laughing, "Don't need that anyway." There was a moment of awkward silence as they mulled over your response. "What?" you asked as you examined the shocked faces surrounding your bed, "didn't want kids anyways." To your surprise, Ghost laughed and you couldn't help but join in with his low tones. "You think I could actually keep up with little demon spawns? I was glad when the doctor told me it hadn't hit anything vital like my liver." As you wiped away the tears that had formed from your laughter, the team took a breath and smiled at your antics. "Good to have you back, Iris."
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cannabiscomrade · 1 year
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February 6-10 is Feeding Tube Awareness Week!
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The beginning of February was selected because of its proximity to Valentine’s Day, because we love our feeding tubes. This is my first year as a tubie and I’m looking forward to learning more about feeding tubes and the conditions that necessitate them! I do love my tube, it saved my life!
I am an adult with a feeding tube, and a lot of the awareness and attention surrounding these medical devices is child focused. A lot of children depend on tube feeding to thrive, but there are plenty of disabled adults that depend on tube feeding as well! In 2017 there were approximately 438,000 people with feeding tubes in the US, and 60% of them are adults.
I have gastroparesis, which directly translates to paralysis of the stomach. My stomach doesn’t grind food the way it’s supposed to, and my pylorus sphincter at the bottom of my stomach doesn’t open well to pass food and liquids through. While gastroparesis has a range of impact and severity, I have a very severe case, and I am no longer able to eat or drink by mouth for nutrition. I am 100% tube fed. I went into starvation ketoacidosis prior to my placement.
Tube feeding, or enteral nutrition, has several different forms. There are nasal tubes and there are surgical tubes. Nasal tubes can go into your stomach (NG), duodenum (ND), or your jejunum (NJ) and are typically for short-term use. They can be used for acute illness and malnutrition, or to trial tolerance of enteral feeding. Surgical tubes go into your stomach (gastrostomy/G) jejunum (jejunostomy/J) or both (gastrojejunostomy/GJ) and they’re for chronic conditions and/or long-term use. I have a GJ tube and it looks like this:
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I have a GJ tube so that I can bypass my paralyzed stomach and feed directly into my intestine. I can also drain stomach contents from the gastric port, which allows me to drink liquids and drain them out before they make me sick. Different people will have different tubes depending on their diagnosis and prognosis! Some people have one form of tube, and others have separate G and J tubes.
There are over 400 conditions that can require tube feeding. Some of those include
Gastroparesis
Intestinal dysmotility
Cancer
Intestinal failure
Inflammatory Bowel Disease (Crohn’s disease and Ulcerative Colitis)
Cerebral Palsy
Congenital/chromosomal conditions
Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome
Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome
Several trisomy conditions
Prematurity
Other conditions not mentioned in the link above include
Hyperemesis gravadarium, severe nausea/vomiting during pregnancy to the point of significant weight loss and electrolyte imbalance
Acute trauma requiring bowel rest
Eating disorders
This week, I want to promote visibility for disabled adults with feeding tubes. I didn’t know anything about enteral nutrition until I got sick. Once I had a confirmed diagnosis of gastroparesis, the reality that I was facing forced me to learn and adapt quickly to a completely life changing treatment. I know there are other adults like me, as well as tubie adults that used to be a child with a tube!
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healthdietwiet · 2 years
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nasa · 7 months
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For the Benefit of All: Assistive Tech Developed from NASA Tech
What do modern cochlear implants and robotic gloves have in common? They were derived from NASA technology. We’ve made it easier to find and use our patented inventions that could help create products that enhance life for people with disabilities.
October is National Disability Employment Awareness Month, which highlights the contributions of American workers with disabilities – many of whom use assistive technology on the job. Take a look at these assistive technologies that are NASA spinoffs.
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Low-Vision Headsets
The Joint Optical Reflective Display (JORDY) device is a headset that uses NASA image processing and head-mounted display technology to enable people with low vision to read and write. JORDY enhances individuals’ remaining sight by magnifying objects up to 50 times and allowing them to change contrast, brightness, and display modes. JORDY's name was inspired by Geordi La Forge, a blind character from “Star Trek: The Next Generation” whose futuristic visor enabled him to see.
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Cochlear Implants
Work that led to the modern cochlear implant was patented by a NASA engineer in the 1970s. Following three failed corrective surgeries, Adam Kissiah combined his NASA electronics know-how with research in the Kennedy Space Center technical library to build his own solution for people with severe-to-profound hearing loss who receive little or no benefit from hearing aids. Several companies now make the devices, which have been implanted in hundreds of thousands of people around the world.
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Robotic Gloves
Ironhand, from Swedish company Bioservo Technologies, is the world’s first industrial-strength robotic glove for factory workers and others who perform repetitive manual tasks. It helps prevent stress injuries but has been especially warmly received by workers with preexisting hand injuries and conditions. The glove is based on a suite of patents for the technology developed by NASA and General Motors to build the hands of the Robonaut 2 humanoid robotic astronaut.
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Smart Glasses
Neurofeedback technology NASA originally developed to improve pilots’ attention has been the basis for products aimed at helping people manage attention disorders without medication. The devices measure brainwave output to gauge attention levels according to the “engagement index” a NASA engineer created. Then, they show the results to users, helping them learn to voluntarily control their degree of concentration. One such device is a pair of smart glasses from Narbis, whose lenses darken as attention wanes.
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Anti-Gravity Treadmills
A NASA scientist who developed ways to use air pressure to simulate gravity for astronauts exercising in space had the idea to apply the concept for the opposite effect on Earth. After licensing his technology, Alter-G Inc. developed its anti-gravity G-Trainer treadmill, which lets users offload some or all of their weight while exercising. The treadmills can help people recover from athletic or brain injuries, and they allow a safe exercise regimen for others with long-term conditions such as arthritis.
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Wireless Muscle Sensors
Some of the most exciting assistive technologies to spin off may be yet to come. Delsys Inc. developed electromyographic technology to help NASA understand the effects of long-term weightlessness on astronauts’ muscles and movements. Electromyography detects and analyzes electrical signals emitted when motor nerves trigger movement. Among the company’s customers are physical therapists developing exercise routines to help patients recover from injuries. But some researchers are using the technology to attempt recoveries that once seemed impossible, such as helping paralyzed patients regain movement, letting laryngectomy patients speak, and outfitting amputees with artificial limbs that work like the real thing.  
To further enhance the lives of people with disabilities, NASA has identified a selection of patented technologies created for space missions that could spur the next generation of assistive technology here on Earth.
Want to learn more about assistive technologies already in action? Check out NASA Spinoff to find products and services that wouldn’t exist without space exploration.   
Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!
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shibaraki · 1 year
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TURNING PAGE ┊ MIDORIYA IZUKU
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tags: GN reader, quirk accident (dubcon <- just to be safe), pining, friends to lovers, a tiny bit of angst, so much fluff, requited feelings, confessions of love
wc: 1.3K
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Deku got hit with a quirk mid battle. You have long since learnt that assuming the worst before receiving more information isn’t helpful. Injuries and accidents are an inevitability in your line of work— if you started panicking every time a friend got hurt you’d send yourself to an early grave.
Love drunk, they called it. A quirk that inebriated it’s victims with overwhelming feelings of affection and lowered their inhibitions to a resounding zero. It was harmless, if not a little embarrassing, and it explained why the nurse you spoke to had steam coming out of her ears.
Getting Izuku back to his apartment was the hardest part. You couldn’t make it two minutes without him stopping to express his admiration. Always some innocuous thing; how the beech tree foliage dappled the sunlight, or a flock of birds danced in synchrony, or an elderly woman with a small dog travelled in her walker.
When he caught sight of Bakugo’s victorious snarl plastered across a billboard you had to fight tooth and nail to take his devices away, lest he start wailing down the phone about how proud he is.
That particular moment spiralled into an incoherent rant about what the word ‘best friend’ means to him and why it felt redundant— lacking, in a sense. “It’s not enough,” he slurred, a myriad of tears bubbling at his waterline that he valiantly tries to blink away. “I just care about them so much”.
You had almost lost your footing as he slung an arm around your shoulder, nose squished up against your temple and oblivious to the heat prickling over your cheeks. You count your blessings. At least it hadn’t been a sex quirk. Izuku loves hard and he feels with his whole body. You’re not sure you could handle him at lust. To get a taste of that would be irreversible; no doubt hurtful. This is difficult enough.
When you make it to his apartment Izuku seems to realise that if he releases the tension keeping him upright you’ll have to hold him at the waist and take his weight. Your abdomen clenches— his lips brush over the shell of your ear, muttering quiet praises, and a shiver rolls through you. You wished he would shut up and you wished he wouldn’t; your eyes, your laugh, your intelligence, your hands, the way your hips move, how you dance when you think nobody is looking, the smile you save for him, your courage and wit— you’ve heard enough.
It hurts.
You manage to get him to his bedroom. He's drunk, fumbling like he’d forgotten how to put one foot in front of the other. You press your lips thin and try not to laugh as he struggles with the apparent loss of dexterity.
Izuku laughs as you drop him unceremoniously onto his bed and the sound is incredible. Soft, drunken, wholehearted fits of giggles. Pink splotches bloom up his neck and cheeks, his body pliant in honeyed repose. Mossy curls stark against the cotton sheets. Izuku holds out his arms and makes childish grabby motions with his fingers.
“C’mere,” he murmurs with a tone too intimate for your heart. A voice meant for lovers. Thoughts zip through your mind a mile a minute. What on earth do you do with your hands when everything you’ve ever wanted is right in front of you? You’re shaken by the gravity of it.
Your conscience whispers that this isn’t real. The quirk will wear off in a few hours. Izuku will stutter through a red faced apology and return to a normal you’ll never be wholly satisfied with.
The silence draws longer than intended. Your tongue sits heavy behind your teeth. You don’t know what to do with yourself, but Izuku is merciless. He pushes up onto his hands with a dissatisfied hum and scoots to the edge of the bed. A fragile breath is caught in your chest when you feel his palm smooth up your calf, cupping the back of your knee, his thumb stroking back and forth.
Izuku presses the flat of his throat against your midsection, his chin between your ribs. He looks up, detailing the subtleties in your face, eyes squinted and hazy; you aren’t sure what to do with the wonder in them, how unashamed he's being. You’ve seen it somewhere before. Stupid man. It’s a look saved for art museums or a full moon or the love of your life. Not— not you.
“You’re so unfair,” you tell him.
Thick in his mouth, he asks, “Did I do something wrong?”
Innate as breathing, your hands find his cheeks, seeking to reassure him before you realise what you’re doing, and he pins you in place with the most benevolent little noise.
Curse the quirk database. There had been next to no information about the quirk beyond its surface effects. You had no way to know whether the quirk conjured feelings of love, twisted them or amplified that which already existed.
“You haven’t done anything wrong,” you affirmed, emphasised by the squashing of his cheeks. It forces his full lips into a pout. Izuku watches you, wide eyed and fraught. You exhale shakily and his head moves with the motion. “I promise”.
“But you look so sad,” he replies nasally. His fingers curled into your thigh, the other hand coming up to wrap around your wrist. Your eyes sting and you can’t help but to laugh at his swollen jutted mouth.
He responds well— practically glittering, sitting up straighter as though you had breathed new life into him. “I love it when you laugh,” he professed. “I love—”
“So you’ve said”.
Izuku frowns deeply. The strength behind his grip increases and it forces your knee to bend, bracing on the mattress beside his hip. It knocks you off balance, hands sliding down to his shoulders as you right yourself. “Izuku—?”
“You don’t believe me,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. The world tilts on its axis and suddenly you are laid on your back, trapped by firm muscle. A leg slots between yours, locking in place; thick arms snake around your shoulders and bring you into his embrace.
Izuku holds you in the crook of his body and you fit like a missing half.
The collar of his shirt slips forward. Your eyes skim the shadows leading to his chest— sparse dark hair between his pecs, muscle pushed together to form a soft cleavage. You’re swathed in heat and the smell of his shampoo. Blood rushes loud in your ears as his adam’s apple bobs and he dips to nuzzle your cheeks together.
“Oh”. A mumble breaks the silence whilst you try to regain your bearings. “You think it’s the quirk, right?”
“It is the quirk, Izuku”.
“Silly. That’s silly. I always feel like this when I’m with you,” he vowed tipsily. Your heart aches and you want to cry.
“Then let’s sleep,” you lift your head, ignoring his small complaint, and meet his gaze. “Sleep for a few hours and tell me again”.
Something flits across his expression; brief and quick, leaving as swiftly as it came, mellowing into contentment. Face smooshed into the pillow, Izuku smiles happily, readjusting his hips to align with yours.
You do not sleep. You stay awake listening to his shallow breathing, the snuffling noises he makes, laughing quietly to yourself whenever his muscles jolt. You count every eyelash, every freckle, memorise the pattern of his scars— the faint lines that are only ever visible in summer when his skin has a little more colour. You soak in how his chest moves against yours, how his arms tighten if you try to pull away.
When he begins to stir, you close your eyes and brace for the impact. What comes next is this:
The tentative press of his lips to your forehead. A gentle whisper of your name. You peer up at him and his sheepish smile widens, entirely unchanged from the hours before.
“I really love it when you laugh,” he blurted, flushing from head to toe.
Hope flares in your chest, spirit buoyed. “So you’ve said,” you breathe.
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imaginesforfandom · 3 months
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A Wolverine's Heartache - Part III
Part I Part II
i'm so sorry it took so long for me to post this!! i've been drowning in work :,(
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Logan/James Howlett x Reader
She/Her pronouns used!!
Summary: Logan struggles after seeing a person he loves alive. Will he be able to save her?
In the moments leading up to Logan's journey back in time, the Xavier Institute was a hub of frantic activity, a beacon of hope in the face of impending doom. The threat of the Sentinels loomed large, casting a shadow of fear and uncertainty over the mutant community.
Logan, haunted by the memory of Y/N's tragic death and driven by a desperate need to prevent further loss, had become the linchpin in a daring plan to alter the course of history. With the help of Professor Xavier and a handful of trusted allies, Logan prepared to embark on a mission that would defy the very fabric of time itself.
The decision to send Logan back in time was not made lightly. It required sacrifices – sacrifices that weighed heavily on the hearts of those left behind. Yet, in the face of imminent destruction, there was no room for hesitation.
As Logan stood before the makeshift time-travel device, his resolve hardened like steel. The weight of his mission bore down on him, a burden he carried with grim determination. He knew the risks – the possibility of altering the timeline, of facing enemies both old and new – but the chance to rewrite history and save those he loved was a gamble he was willing to take.
Before he could second-guess himself, Logan braced himself for the journey ahead. With a final glance at his comrades, a silent promise etched in his eyes, he stepped into the swirling vortex of energy, disappearing into the unknown depths of the past.
In that pivotal moment, the fate of the world hung in the balance. For Logan, it was a journey fraught with peril and uncertainty, but it was also a journey fueled by hope – hope for redemption, for a chance to right the wrongs of the past, and for a future where Y/N's death would be nothing more than a distant memory.
As Logan's consciousness shifted through time, propelled back to a pivotal moment before the devastation wrought by the Sentinels, a sense of urgency gripped him like a vice. His mission was clear: to prevent the cataclysmic events that had led to Y/N's tragic demise.
Arriving in the past, Logan found himself in a world that was both familiar and yet subtly different. The Xavier Institute bustled with life, its halls alive with the laughter of students and the gentle hum of telepathic conversations. But for Logan, it was a world tinged with sorrow, a reminder of the losses he had endured.
As he navigated the bustling corridors, searching for allies to aid him in his quest, Logan's heart quickened at the thought of encountering Y/N. She existed in this timeline, vibrant and alive, yet unaware of the role she would play in shaping their shared destiny.
When Logan finally came face to face with Y/N, his breath caught in his throat. She was different here – a younger version of the person he had known, her features softened by innocence and untainted by the scars of war. And yet, there was an undeniable familiarity in her presence, a connection that transcended the boundaries of time.
As their eyes met, Logan felt a surge of emotions wash over him – longing, regret, and a fierce determination to protect her at all costs. In that fleeting moment, he saw echoes of the Y/N he had lost, a reminder of the bond they had shared across time and space.
But for Y/N, Logan was a stranger – a mysterious figure with haunted eyes and a sense of purpose that seemed to emanate from his very being. And yet, there was something in his gaze, a depth of emotion that stirred something within her – a feeling she couldn't quite place.
As Logan reached out to Y/N, his hand trembling with the weight of unspoken truths, he knew that convincing her to join him would be no easy task. But for Y/N, Logan's presence ignited a spark of curiosity, a whisper of destiny that beckoned her towards a future she could not yet fathom.
As Logan stood before the younger version of Y/N, his heart clenched with a mixture of emotions – longing, regret, and an urgent sense of purpose. He knew that convincing her of the impending danger would be no easy task, especially considering she had no recollection of their shared history.
Y/N regarded him with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, her brows furrowed in confusion. "Who are you?" she demanded, her voice tinged with a hint of defiance.
Logan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the difficult task ahead. "I know this is hard to believe, but you need to listen to me. I'm from the future, and I've seen what happens if we don't act now."
Y/N's eyes widened in disbelief, a scoff escaping her lips. "From the future? That's impossible. Why should I trust you?"
Logan knew he had to choose his words carefully, to break through the wall of skepticism that surrounded her. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I've seen the devastation caused by the Sentinels. They've hunted us down, taken everything from us. If we don't stop them now, there won't be a future for any of us."
Y/N's expression softened slightly, but her hesitation remained palpable. "And why should I believe you? You could be anyone, spinning tales to manipulate me."
Logan's jaw tightened with frustration, but he forced himself to remain calm. He understood her skepticism – after all, he was asking her to believe in the impossible. "I understand your doubts, but you have to trust me. Lives are at stake here, including yours. We need to work together to stop this."
Y/N's gaze flickered with uncertainty, torn between disbelief and a nagging sense of curiosity. She wanted to dismiss Logan's words as the ramblings of a madman, but there was something in his eyes – a depth of sincerity that gave her pause.
As Logan pleaded with her to heed his warning, Y/N felt a surge of conflicting emotions wash over her – fear, anger, and a flicker of hope. In that moment of uncertainty, she grappled with the weight of the decision before her, knowing that the fate of the world rested in her hands – and in the hands of the enigmatic stranger who claimed to hold the key to their salvation.
The moment hung suspended in time, a fragile balance between doubt and determination. Y/N stood before Logan, her gaze locked with his, uncertainty etched into the lines of her face. Logan's plea echoed in the air, a whispered promise of redemption and salvation, and for a fleeting instant, Y/N hesitated.
But then, something shifted within her – a spark of resolve that ignited in the depths of her soul. It was a quiet realization, born from the depths of her own courage and fueled by the unwavering belief that together, they could make a difference.
With a steadying breath, Y/N met Logan's gaze, her voice steady despite the turmoil raging within her. "Alright. I'll help you."
The words hung in the air like a beacon of hope, a testament to the strength of her conviction. In that moment, a weight lifted from Logan's shoulders, replaced by a surge of gratitude and relief. He had expected resistance, perhaps even outright rejection, but Y/N's willingness to trust him filled him with a sense of purpose unlike anything he had ever known.
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As the tension reached its peak in the crowded conference room, Logan and Y/N moved with precision and determination, their eyes locked in silent communication. They had trained for this moment, prepared for the pivotal role they would play in altering the course of history.
Amidst the chaos, Mystique, disguised as a government official, made her move, her gun trained on Trask, the architect of the Sentinel program. But before she could pull the trigger, Logan sprang into action, his instincts honed by years of combat.
With a swift motion, he intercepted Mystique's shot, deflecting the bullet away from its intended target. The room erupted into chaos as panic spread like wildfire, but Logan remained focused, his gaze never wavering from Mystique's determined form.
Beside him, Y/N moved with a grace and precision that belied her years, her powers weaving through the air like a symphony of light and shadow. With a flick of her wrist, she immobilized Mystique, her telekinetic abilities holding her captive in a shimmering cocoon of energy.
As the dust settled and order was restored, Logan and Y/N shared a fleeting glance, a silent acknowledgment of the pivotal role they had played in preventing catastrophe. In that moment, the bond between them deepened, forged in the crucible of adversity.
But as they stood amidst the aftermath of their actions, a sense of uncertainty lingered in the air. The future remains uncertain, and the threat of the Sentinels still loomed large. Yet, for the first time in a long time, Logan allowed himself to feel a glimmer of hope – a hope that with Y/N by his side, they could face whatever challenges lay ahead, together.
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As Logan's consciousness shifted back to the future, his senses reeled from the disorienting transition. The world around him was a blur of chaos and destruction, the aftermath of the battle against the Sentinels evident in the smoldering ruins that surrounded him. But amidst the devastation, one sight stood out like a beacon of light in the darkness.
There, among the ragged survivors, stood Y/N – her presence a ray of hope amidst the despair. For a moment, time seemed to stand still as Logan's gaze locked onto her familiar form, his heart swelling with a mixture of relief and gratitude.
Without hesitation, he moved towards her, his steps fueled by an overwhelming urge to reach her side. As he drew closer, their eyes met, and in that instant, a flood of emotions washed over him – longing, regret, and a fierce determination to protect her at all costs.
Unable to resist any longer, Logan closed the distance between them in a single stride, his arms enveloping Y/N in a tight embrace. It was a gesture born from the depths of his soul, a silent vow to never let her go again.
In that poignant moment, as Logan's arms enveloped Y/N in a tight embrace amidst the wreckage of their war-torn world, a whirlwind of emotions stirred within him, threatening to overwhelm his senses.
First and foremost was an overwhelming sense of relief – relief that Y/N was alive and standing before him, a beacon of hope amidst the devastation. The mere sight of her, her presence a comforting reminder of their shared history and the bond they had forged, filled his heart with a profound sense of gratitude.
But alongside relief, there was also a deep-seated longing – a longing for the lost time, for the moments they had shared before the world had descended into chaos. Seeing Y/N again awakened a flood of memories, memories of laughter and camaraderie, of unspoken connections and shared moments that now felt like distant echoes in the wake of tragedy.
Mixed with longing was a potent undercurrent of regret – regret for the pain and suffering they had endured, for the lives lost and the futures stolen. Logan couldn't help but wonder if there was more he could have done, if he could have somehow prevented the devastation that had torn them apart.
Yet, amidst the tumult of emotions, there was also a fierce determination – a determination to protect Y/N at all costs, to ensure that she would never again face the horrors of war alone. In that moment, as he held her close, Logan made a silent vow to do whatever it took to keep her safe, to carve out a future where they could finally find peace.
And underlying it all was a profound sense of love – a love that transcended time and space, a love that had endured despite the odds. In Y/N's arms, Logan found solace amidst the chaos, a glimmer of hope in a world consumed by darkness.
After the embrace had ended, Logan held onto Y/N's hands tightly, his gaze locking with hers with a newfound intensity. In that moment, the weight of his unspoken emotions pressed heavily upon him, urging him to finally lay bare the truth that had long been buried within his heart.
"Y/N," he began, his voice rough with emotion, "I… I need you to know something. I've been a fool, blind to what's been right in front of me all along."
Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her heart fluttering with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. She waited with bated breath as Logan continued, his words carrying the weight of a lifetime's worth of regrets.
"I love you, Y/N," Logan confessed, his voice barely above a whisper but filled with an undeniable sincerity. "I've loved you for longer than I care to admit, but I was too damn stubborn to see it. I let my fears and insecurities cloud my judgment, and for that, I'm sorry."
Tears welled in Y/N's eyes at Logan's confession, her heart swelling with a rush of emotions she could hardly comprehend. In that moment, the walls she had built around her heart crumbled, leaving her vulnerable but unafraid.
"Logan," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion, "I love you too. I've loved you for as long as I can remember, but I was too afraid to say it. Too afraid of what it might mean, of what we might lose."
Their hands tightened around each other's, a silent vow passing between them. In that shared moment of vulnerability, Logan and Y/N laid bare their hearts, their love for each other a beacon of hope in a world shrouded in darkness.
And as they stood together, tears mingling with smiles, they knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as they were together, they would face them with unwavering courage and unyielding love. For in each other's arms, they had found a home – a sanctuary amidst the chaos, where their love could flourish and grow stronger with each passing day.
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again, i'm so sorry it took me so long!!! this term has been so exhausting :,(
i really hope you guys liked the final part!! i hadn't meant to make it this long but i got a little carried away lol. i know it's not fully canon to the movies, sorry bout that.
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perlelune · 11 months
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Tag, You’re It | Ethan Landry | iv.
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Happy, carefree college days meet their abrupt end when every guy who approaches you mysteriously turns up dead.
Warnings: NON-CON, Stalking, Bimbo!Reader, Clueless Reader, Loss of Virginity, Incel Ethan, Cheerleader Reader, Skin Carving (w/knife), Canon Typical Slashing, Voyeurism, Kidnapping, Forced Masturbation, Filming, Blackmail
This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.
𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
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"Put the phone down. On speaker," Ghostface orders.
The device almost slides right out of your clammy palm when you place it by your sock-covered foot. 
"Now…"
His voice dips, its intimate echo rippling across your skin.
Tension clogs your throat as you await his next command, a mess of shivering limbs on your bed.  
Whatever he asks you to do, you know you’ll hate it, and yourself. 
But there’s no other option when your friends’ lives hang in the balance. 
No choice besides yielding to the killer’s whims, however sick and twisted. 
"I want you to touch yourself, princess."
Puzzled by his request, you blink and parrot his words back to him,"Touch myself?"
He unleashes a dark laugh, a chill dancing on your spine at the sound. 
"Let me explain it in terms even my airheaded little princess can understand," he rasps, blatantly condescending. I want you to shove your fingers in that tight pussy while I watch you do it…and make yourself come." Your eyes widen in shock. "If you don’t come…" Your open thighs tremble as an air of malevolence saturates the air. "Goodbye Mindy and Anika."
The heavy, searing weight of his threat sits in your gut like hot coals. 
Your lip wobbles, a tear escaping the confine of your lids. 
"I’ll do it," you mutter, your quivering hand already inching to your exposed center. 
"Hey, no need to rush," he chuckles. "Take your time, princess. After all…I want to enjoy the show."
He sighs and a zipping sound followed by a muffled rustle reaches you. Relief flows from his inflection as he instructs, "Why don’t you start with rubbing your hand up and down your pussy?"
Sticky wetness coats your fingers as you glide them over your folds. 
Heat flares in your cheeks as Ghostface’s gruff moans rise from the phone. 
Though you can’t know for sure, you suspect from how breathless and hoarse he sounds, he may be touching himself too. 
You grow more embarrassed at the thought. 
"Unbutton your shirt and grab your tit." He lets out a throaty purr as you undo the buttons of your blouse. You palm your breast and rub your thumb over your pebbled peak. A hiss floats from your lips at the sensation, your core clenching. 
"Fuck…you’ve got the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. You know that, princess?" He pauses, seeming to choke on his own breath before chiming, "Bet they’d look even better covered with my cum."
A shuddering breath escapes your mouth. 
"Put one finger inside. Tell me how it feels."
As you keep fondling your breast, you sink one digit inside your wet heat. You gasp as you graze a sensitive, spongy spot that makes your breath falter. 
"Wet. Tight…" Reflexively, as you rock inside your walls, they squeeze around your fingers. Ragged moans climb up your throat. 
Pleasure builds in your belly as it tenses. 
"Put a second one," he urges, his words punctuated by a gravelly whine and the faint, sloppy friction of skin against skin on the other side of the phone. 
Your face ignites. While you’re not the brightest bulb, it’s not hard figuring out what he’s doing while talking to you. 
A wave of sickness threatens to overwhelm you but you quell it.
You add a second digit to the first. Your lids quake, a sharp pain rippling through your core at the burning stretch.
You hardly ever touch yourself there, much less with more than one finger.
"It hurts," you sob. "Please…"
Your whimpers only appear to arouse him more, a moan following your admission. 
"Oh…Fuck." You hear him swallow and exhale rapidly. "Keep going. Don’t you dare stop. Play with your clit at the same time."
Letting go of your chest, your other hand creeps between your thighs. Cheeks aflame, you start rubbing your swollen, sensitive nub in circles.
Your breath stutters. Your hips wiggle as your stomach tightens. 
"Rub it harder." You chew on your bottom lip as the lustful pants leaving your throat swell in volume. Disapproval vibrates in Ghostface’s distorted, gravelly voice. "Don’t keep it in. I want to hear you loud and clear, princess."
Reluctantly, you free your lip, allowing every moan and whimper to spill out unchecked. 
Your fingers pump in and out at a faster pace and the wet squelching of your cunt mingles with the shameful sounds rising from your mouth. 
You massage your clit, growing slicker as your vision gets hazy. 
"Remember what I said. What happens if you don’t come, pretty girl."
This incentivizes you to try even harder. 
You play with your pussy with more fervor than before, teasing that tender spot inside you that has your vision sway. 
You can tell how close you are to your pinnacle, the coils in your belly tight and warm tingles swirling at the apex of your thighs. 
The patterns your fingers trace over your sensitive parts turn hectic and desperate. 
"Tell me you can’t wait for my fat cock to ruin your tight little pussy," Ghostface rumbles through the staccato of his uneven, raspy moans. 
Tears adorning your lashes, you repeat his words between strained lungfuls. "I c-can’t wait for your f…fat cock to ruin my little p-pussy, Mr. Ghostface."
His elated laugh cascades across your flesh. 
"Come for me, princess."
The air dwindles in your lungs as your eyes roll back. The dam shatters at once, your legs quaking as waves of pleasure scatter through your lower body. Your body jolts and falls limply on the sheets, your back arching as your climax hits you. 
"Ah, shit," he says. 
The killer’s long, throaty sigh lands in your ears, the sound of him relieving himself strangely making your bundle of nerves pulse. 
"Good girl," he lauds, mirth and lust radiating from his deep timbre.
His choppy breaths mingle with yours through the phone.
As you lie on your side on the bed, the haze clears and a vast well of shame blooms inside you. 
After a few minutes of silence, he laughs again. 
Satisfaction drips from his tone.
"I’m proud of you for playing my little game," he says. "And now, we have our first souvenir together, in 4K."
Your brows knit as you shakily pick up the phone.
"What do you m-mean?"
He doesn’t reply, instead humming softly, "Goodnight, princess."
The call ends as he hangs up. 
Quivering lips bound shut by stupor, you quickly grab your bear and hold him against your chest. You bury yourself under the covers as quiet tears roll down your face. 
You don’t get much sleep if any that night, tossing and turning when you’re not drenching the sheets with the salty streams pouring from your eyes. 
Despite him never entering the room, terror paralyzes you. 
He might as well have, his sinister presence coiled around you and the power he held over you tattooed into your very bones. 
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You bolt awake in the morning, the wild drumming of your heart blaring in your ears.
The first thing you do is rush to collect  your phone. But frustration roars inside you when you realize it died during your fitful sleep. 
Heart in your throat, you scramble in search of your charger. Once you find it in a forgotten corner of your bed, a relieved exhale ripples through your lips. 
Impatient, you groan as you wait for the lightning bolt icon to shift to one percent. The painful sluggishness of it escalates your blood pressure even more. 
You bounce on your bed as your phone takes what seems like eternity and beyond to turn itself on. 
When it finally does, you don't even have to look through your contacts to find Mindy, your best friend appearing in your most recent calls.
You punch the number and chew your nails anxiously. 
Ghastly thoughts lurk about your mind with each lingering, torturous second. 
What if he lied? 
What if he toyed with you for no reason? 
Of course, your roommate picks this opportune moment to knock on the door.
"Hey! Did you lock me out? Open the fucking door!"
Startled, your head snaps up.
"Not now, Vanessa," you yell, herding your focus back to your phone. "Pick up, pick up, pick up…"
You hear your roommate mutter 'bitch' on the other side of the door and kick it one last time before walking away. 
All your calls go to voicemail after a few rings. You lose hope, already picturing the worse. In your sleep-deprived, frazzled brain, the image of your friends’ lifeless forms lying sprawled on the floor is conjured. 
Your gaze fills with tears as you plummet at the end of your bed. 
While the sun’s basking your room in light, your world has never been this dark. 
It’s the pathetic state you remain in as you amble across the hallways later, no cheer in your step as you drag your feet to class. 
Each of your thoughts is asieged by your friends’ fate. Who knows if they even made it through the night, despite your best efforts to comply with Ghostface’s sick demands.
Your dispirited trek comes to a sudden halt as you catch sight of them, strolling to your first class with their arms linked. 
You all but tackle Mindy into a hug after racing down the hallway. 
"Mindy!" you shriek, overwhelmed with emotion at having her in your arms, safe, whole and - most importantly - alive. 
She laughs, both she and Anika casting you a puzzled stare. 
"Wow, is something wrong? Not that I mind random hugs but…"
You punch her in the rib and rear back with a scowl. 
"You didn't answer your phone, dingus! I was worried sick."
Mindy winces in response to your outburst. 
"Ouch. Sorry, mom," she jests, but when she notes the way your eyes fill with tears again, concern invades her features. Her tone softens as she elaborates, "Anika and I were…busy last night, so our phones were on silent."
They share a secret smile, hands twining. Your cheeks warm as understanding dawns over you. 
You approach them and give them a tight hug.
"I…I’m just happy to see you both, that’s all," you mumble between quivering sobs. You take a minute to soak in the fact that they’re okay, that you can feel their beating hearts against your own. 
Your friends are okay. Ghostface kept his promise. 
Despite how humiliated and violated last night made you feel, at least there is one perk…your friends lived through it. 
Anika rubs soothing circles on your back.
"Well, we’re happy to see you too. Always." She tilts her head and studies you. "Wanna grab lunch later? Talk about what’s really going on with you?"
Gulping a pacifying breath, you fall back. You look at both their faces, scrunched in worry. You’re thankful for them…but you can’t talk about last night to anyone. 
In fact, you’d rather toss the whole ordeal into a well of oblivion. You feel dirty enough as it is. Tainted. 
Still, spending time with them is just what you need. 
"I’d love that," you chime, swallowing your tears long enough for them to disappear from view. 
But as soon as they’ve vacated the hallway, the ephemeral mask of cheerfulness you donned before crumbles. 
You shrink into a mess of tears in a dusky corner of the faculty, hiding behind a set of stairs no one ever uses. 
"I have tissues if you want. I have t-three tissues."
"Ethan?" Your mouth parts as Ethan’s staggering presence crowds your vision. He’s crouched in front of you, that same lopsided, bashful smile he had at the party decorating his lips. Sun beams hit his dark curls, highlighting the russet and chestnut hues of his thick mane. 
You slowly blink, noticing his outstretched hand and the tissues in it. 
You accept them gracefully and dab your eyes with one. 
"Hey." He sits next to you under the stairs and leans against the wall. "Wanna talk about it?"
You sniffle and shake your head in response. 
Ethan nods in acknoledgement. You appreciate that he doesn’t push, settling for sitting with you as you cry in your hand.
"Okay," he says when your weeping alleviates. "Then, maybe we can go to a café and study? Since you’ve missed our first session anyway."
Embarrassment surges inside you. Right. You and Ethan agreed to meet at the library two days ago. 
You were caught amidst your guilt spiral regarding Connor’s death at the time. 
You squeeze his arm and bunch your lips apologetically. 
"I’m so sorry, Ethan. It totally slipped my mind."
He waves a dismissive hand in the air. 
"It’s okay. You were dealing with a lot. I get it."
Deflating, you release his bicep and sigh. 
"Still, that’s not okay. You were so nice to offer."
"Don’t worry about it. Besides, I’ve got time now," he informs.
Hugging your knees, you flash him a hollow smile. 
"Thank you. You're a really good friend." You grimace. "I'm sorry Chad and Mindy gave you such a hard time the other day."
He gives a nonchalant shrug. 
"It's okay. Could be anyone, right?" He pauses, scrutinizing your face. "Even me."
This draws the first genuine laugh of the week from you.
Ethan being Ghostface? The mere idea is ludicrous. 
There is an ocean of differences between the monster who coerced you into doing dirty things last night and the sweet boy who handed you tissues today. 
They could never be the same person. That’s silly. 
"I’d find that very hard to believe," you say between watery chuckles. 
The only reply you get from Ethan is a wide, tight-lipped smile as he slants his head sideways, his gaze lighting up as it runs over you. 
~
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torukmaktoskxawng · 3 months
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Hi I love your work! Would you have any sfw + nsfw relationship headcanons for So’lek x fem Sarentu Na’vi? I’m playing AFoP right now and I’m looking for crumbs in every in-game interaction lol
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Pairing: So'lek/Fem!Sarentu!Reader
Taglist: @mooniequeen @avatar-lover @neteyamsyawntu
Warnings: nsfw (will be under the cut), minors dni
A/n: Using my favorite picture I ever took while playing AFoP 💕 Imagine that's how he looked when you walked into the room.
Also, my first headcanon request! Yay!
~~~~~~~~~
Sfw:
This man trusts you with his life and therefore trusts you are safe and loyal to him, no matter how far or how long you two are apart. (Doesn't mean he trusts Eetu to keep his overconfident hands to himself)
You're constantly traveling and never in one place for long, and while he used to be the same way, he finds himself staying in a chosen few places for long periods of time so that you can easily find him.
While he isn't much for PDA, he's still Na'vi, and he is going to grab your tail, both publicly and privately.
After losing his own clan, he understands exactly what you need to finally and properly mourn the loss of the Sarentu. He gives you what he wished he could've accepted from others after the loss of his people.
Doesn't like it when people tease him about your love. He takes your relationship very seriously and doesn't see the teasing as lighthearted. Priya learns quickly that he's more broody if your relationship comes up in the conversation.
And it's not like he's ashamed of your relationship. He's very proud of it, thank you very much. Even though he isn't into PDA, he still properly courts you in Na'vi tradition like you deserve. He wants you to experience Na'vi traditions since you never had them growing up.
He forces himself to appreciate the Sky People's communication devices because they ease his worries when he's able to talk to you from long distances. Yes, he trusts you to be safe, but he can't trust the rest of Pandora to do the same.
Takes his role as Big Brother to the rest of the Sarentu (Ri'nela, Nor, and Teylan) very seriously since you clearly trust him to guide your family when you're traveling and away from home.
Nsfw (minors dni):
I've said it once, and I'll say it again, this man has ZERO shame when he's eating you out. He's hungry, and he's messy. He's not gonna care how loud or disgusting it sounds.
I wouldn't be surprised if he spent a whole night with his mouth between your legs. I doubt this man has had any action during his life of solitude and path of revenge, so he's going to make up for lost time. If he's craving your taste, you better let him ravage you.
He's one of those lovers who refuses to pleasure himself unless it's to pleasure you, your care and well-being first and foremost in his mind. He doesn't care if it physically hurts not being able to cum, he's going to make sure you cum first. Please please PLEASE give him just as much attention because he deserves it. 🙏
When you two finally mate and form tsaheylu, he's supporting your weight as he takes you up against the nearest tree, being as gentle as physically possibly even with your gummy walls hugging his cock so deliciously. It takes a lot of his strength and willpower not to rail you right away. Since you're bonding for the first time, he wants it to be prolonged and intense. He wants to take his time.
Another reason why he sometimes refuses to cum is because believe it not, he doesn't have a breeding kink. At least not yet. He's not oblivious of the world around you, and even in his frenzied need to have every part of you, he remembers the war and how it's no place to start a family, no matter how much the both of you might want it.
He refuses to budge on the matter, and you need to respect that boundary. So you try other ways to get him to cum. Having him fuck you between the thighs was the best idea since the human invention of sliced bread. He. Loves. It. You have to hold onto his tail because it's always thrashing wildly behind him as he grinds his leaking cock into the tight space where you clench your thighs.
This man has been so deprived that when he cums, he cums a lot. A LOT. It's a shame none if that goes inside you 🫣 what a shame.
Growls. Enough said.
Actually, no, not enough said. Growls between your legs and the vibration puts toys to shame.
Mating bites 🫦 but they're mostly hidden between your thighs, under your loincloth. You definitely feel them as you walk around, and that is one of the little things in life between you and him that gets So'lek to smile.
~~~~~~~~~
I will happily write more about this!
RULES
REQUEST
MASTERLIST
TAGLIST
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