#Science of Mucus

[xtruss]

A Garden Snail, seen from underneath, slides over glass. The trail of slime left behind by this species is a popular ingredient in skin care products. Photograph By Georgette Douwma, Nature Picture Library

Snail Mucus is a Skin Care Phenomenon—But Does It Really Work?

Commonly used to repair damaged skin, products containing snail mucus go back much further than the social media era��and may have potential beyond cosmetics.

— By Olivia Ferrari | January 8, 2024

Consumers around the world are shelling out for cosmetic products containing snail mucus, with its global market in 2022 valued at about $555 million.

After a snail mucus skin care boom in South Korea, the product—also referred to as snail mucin or secretion—was widely shared on social media. North America is now the fastest growing market for snail skin products. But using snail mucus for glowing skin and good health dates back further than a social media trend.

Ancient Greeks used snail slime on skin to fight topical inflammation. In the 1980s, Chilean snail farmers noted that handling snails for the French food market left them with softer hands and cuts that healed quicker. This launched snail slimes’ popularity in South America.

But does this popular mucus actually work? Here’s how snail slime can heal more than a dry face.

A technician milks a giant snail for its mucin on a farm in Thailand. Mucus is secreted as a stress response, but synthetic versions of mucin may be an alternative for concerned consumers. Photograph By Lillian Suwanrumpha, AFP/Getty Images

What Does Snail Mucin Do to Skin?

Garden snails, the species of snail most studied for skin care, produce slime advertised as moisturizing, full of antioxidants, and capable of stimulating new collagen, which can reduce signs of aging, according to Joshua Zeichner, a dermatologist at Mount Sinai Hospital.

Consumers buy snail mucus products to repair damaged skin and lock in moisture, according to dermatologist Elizabeth Bahar Houshmand, an American Academy of Dermatology fellow. The mucus is full of natural vitamins A and E, antioxidants that can reduce inflammation and signs of aging, and there are peptides that boost collagen production, adds Houshmand. However, Houshmand says more, large clinical trials are needed to prove some of snail slime’s purported effects, and to better understand its active ingredients.

Snail mucus extract has been proven to create a protective barrier between the skin and air pollution. One study used a three-dimensional skin model and exposed it to ozone; the “skin” unprotected by the mucus extract became inflamed and showed signs of aging through oxidative stress, which causes wrinkles and uneven skin tone. The “skin” protected by the mucus extract showed less inflammation.

Scientists are also exploring how snail secretions can be used beyond skin care. There’s evidence snail mucus can help with wound healing and treat burns. Snail mucus also has antibacterial and antifungal properties.

Another study tested its ability to stop bacteria in wounds, and some snail mucus performed better than commercial antibiotics, including amoxicillin and streptomycin. Early research suggests the mucus might have anticancer abilities too: garden snail mucus successfully inhibited skin cancer cell growth in a lab.

Unlocking the Science of Mucus

To better understand snail slime, Antonio Cerullo, a biochemist at the City University of New York, collected snails from an escargot farm and analyzed their three types of slime: protective mucus on the back, adhesive mucus on the foot, and lubricating mucus on the foot.

Each type had distinct properties, like stiffness and stickiness, and different biochemical compositions.

In the wild, these different types of slime serve different functions, Cerullo explains. The mucus primarily used for lubrication has more collagen, making it stiffer; the mucus used for adhesion has more calcium, making it stickier. These properties help the snail to move around and to stick to surfaces.

Isolating the specific molecules that create these properties and synthesizing them for commercial use is a complicated task. While snails’ protective mucus has antimicrobial proteins, for example, multiple molecules in the mucus could interact to create the antimicrobial effect on human skin, says Cerullo.

Microbiologist Roberta Rizzo and chemist Claudio Trapella at the University of Ferrara in Italy have analyzed over 100 different snail mucus products, finding a discrepancy in quality. Everything from different feeding and breeding practices on snail farms to how mucus is collected affects the final product, explain Rizzo and Trapella.

But snail slime has potential beyond skin care, says Adam Braunschweig, organic chemist at the City University of New York.

It can be used as a wound repair glue to treat internal ulcers and infections, and as a natural adhesive in bioengineering. Snail mucus also works well as a drug delivery substance, says Braunschweig. When given with medications, it helps the body’s mucus membranes absorb treatment.

Rizzo and Trapelli are also working on using natural snail mucus in unconventional ways—their snail mucus extract has been used to produce eye drops that use snails’ natural lubrication to treat dry eye disease.

Are Snails Harmed in the Process?

Scientists have yet to isolate the specific components of snail mucus that imbue their healing properties, but it is possible to make synthetic versions of the mucus, which helps reduce the need for snail farms.

How snail mucus is harvested varies from farm to farm—some have snails crawl on nets so mucus drips into pans underneath, others use a misting chamber that induces snail secretions—but the substance is excreted when a snail is under stress.

Synthesizing bio-inspired mucus also makes scaling up production more possible. A lot of snails are needed to meet current demand, and it’s costly to harvest enough snail mucus. The product can also change day to day depending on what snails are fed, so their mucus isn’t always consistent.

Using synthetic mucus also allows chemists to modify their product more easily. With natural mucus, “you’re stuck with what the animal gives you,” says Braunschweig. “What if you want to change the recipe, or the properties?”

His team hopes to produce synthetics for a fraction of the cost, and for them to be tailorable—for example, to be more adhesive or more lubricating, depending on the application.

“Mucus does so many amazing things,” says Cerullo. “Now with our work, we’re hoping it makes a path so we can learn so much more from mucus in the next decade than we have in the last 2,000 years.”

[bpod-bpod]

Mucus and Movement

Live imaging of human bronchial cells growing in the lab tracks the relationship between the COVID-19 virus SARS-CoV-2 with mucus and ciliary action – wafting by the airway cells' hairy projections. Such muco-ciliary clearance (MCC) in life aims to protect against infection by moving mucus up to the throat for expulsion, keeping the airways open. This study finds that MCC initially facilitates SARS-CoV-2 infection but subsequently inhibits spread

Read the published research article here

Video from work by Mark E. Becker and colleagues

Department of Cell & Developmental Biology, Feinberg School of Medicine, Northwestern University, Chicago, IL, USA

Video originally published with a Creative Commons Attribution – NonCommercial – NoDerivs (CC BY-NC-ND 4.0)

Published in Nature Communications, November 2024

You can also follow BPoD on Instagram, Twitter and Facebook

[titles-for-tangents]

It’s worth noting the study found that no tampon they tested - whether organic or inorganic, or from the U.K. or U.S. - was “safe” per se. They do acknowledge that some of the tampons could have gotten that way via agricultural or manufacturing processes.

That said, “Most metals differed by organic status; lead concentrations were higher in non-organic tampons while arsenic was higher in organic tampons. No category had consistently lower concentrations of all or most metals.”

The scientists acknowledge too that, “To our knowledge, no previous studies have measured metals in tampons,” and HOLY SHIT we’re going to need more far more data until we’re in the clear: “Future research is needed to replicate our findings and determine whether metals can leach out of tampons and cross the vaginal epithelium into systemic circulation.”

Friendly reminder this why we have the FDA, and the Supreme Court just ruled they don’t have to listen to them.

my period is back again and id like to take this moment to remind everyone with a uterus to avoid using tampons at all costs, if you can. a recent study was conducted with 14 different popular brands of tampons, revealing that every single one of them contained toxic metals such as lead, arsenic, and more.

[surrounded-by-fuckups]

It’s cold and flu season bitches and only dumb bitches like me think they’ll be safe and end up sick in the most petty way. Sore throat and runny nose, something I haven’t dealt with in years and no longer know how to deal with it

[perfectqueenfan]

Having the egg right at the opening at the start of your work shift, so you have to hold the egg in so you can finally deliver the egg back home.

*Sorry folks it's gonna be a long one. I got a good writing flow and idea for this.*

I knew that going into work today was probably not the smartest idea, but I needed the money and had signed on for a double shift. I started early, driving to the bakery I worked at around 7:45am. A few months ago I had signed on to help a friend out with a science project for one of their classes at our local college, which ended up being something a lot more out of the ordinary than I had initially thought.

"Human egg incubation. But not like a human egg, you have plenty of those. I found these alien eggs on the black market and need a test subject to see if these are even real. Can you help me please?" And me, being weak when it came to them, said yes. It has been 4 months since we inserted one of the eggs into my womb, at the time it was as small as a pea. They were a light green color, slightly glowing. To a normal eye, you wouldn't notice any difference with me. But I could see the beginning of a bump forming, the slight distended look of where my womb is, looking like I had just a little too much to eat. The bump was firm if I pressed against it, and I could often feel the egg shift when I moved around. It had definitely grown, I'm unsure by how much but enough for me to feel it's weight at all times.

When I pulled into the staff parking lot, I felt a sudden shift in my womb, more intense than the usual movement. Running a hand across the tiny bump, I felt to make sure that nothing was breaking before heading into work. Greeting my co-worker Annie, I moved to grab my apron when I felt a twinge deep in my belly. Placing my hand against the bump again, I felt the egg shift in a harsher way than normal. Weird, but it's not gonna stop me from getting my job done, I thought to myself as I tied on my apron and began to open up the bakery.

It wasn't even an hour into open when I had to excuse myself for a bio break, quickly rushing to the bathroom as another wave of pain washed over me. As soon as I was in a stall I unbuttoned my pants and pulled them down enough to expose me stomach and underwear. Looking at my bump, I noticed it was a bit more pronounced and I could feel the egg shift again uncomfortably, holding back a groan at the feeling. But the pain wouldn't let up, a near wiggling feeling from how much the egg was shifting again the walls of my womb. Then it all came to a crest when I felt a pop like feeling, a small rush of what seems to be blue slime coming from between my legs and soaking my underwear.

"Oh, fuck me." I cursed under my breath as I grabbed some toilet paper to quickly wipe away what would be best described as my waters, really it was a mucus sac the egg had developed around itself to keep it safe. Once I was cleaned enough, I pulled my pants back up and quickly rushed to the break room to grab my phone, texting my friend that the egg was on its way. That's when it dawned on me, I had signed up for a double shift today. Realizing that I had to stall the birth of this egg as much as possible, I put back on my apron and walked back to the counter with determination: make it thought this shift without having this egg.

Not even halfway though my first shift, I realized that was easier said than done. The egg, which turns out was massive, had managed to fully get into my birth canal and weighing heavily on my hips. I was saving my groans until I was in the pantry or couldn't be heard over the espresso machines. The worst part though, is that I was so turned on by it. The hiding, the weight and feeling of the egg shifting lower and lower, and nobody else knew that I was using all my mental strength not to give in and push the massive egg out of me. Moving throughout the motions of making yet another caramel macchiato, I bent down to grab another carton of milk when the egg shot forward, resting just behind my lips. I let out a startled yelp at the feeling, Annie giving me a weird look at my sudden outburst. "Hit my head." Was all I said and she gave a nod of understanding before returning to the customer.

By 3pm, I was sweating, constantly denying my bodies cry to push practically every minute as I moved around the bakery. My confident walk had turned into a slow, almost waddle. It felt like there was a bowling ball between my legs, and with every step the feeling of the egg shifting right at my entrance was torture. But I couldn't push, not here and definitely not right before the after-school rush of students. Standing behind the counter taking orders, a regular walked up and began chatting about her annoying professor. I felt myself relax a bit, swinging into our normal conversation. Biggest mistake. Not even realizing, my body began pushing, feeling the sudden stretch of my hole making me whimper out in shock and pain. Without apologizing, I rushed to the bathroom and quickly undid my pants again, pulling my underwear down too. I could see the tiniest bit of hard, glowing green shell peaking between my lips. Running my fingers against it, I moaned out as I pushed it back in, my body protesting as I did. Once I felt safe enough, I returned to work, only for all the progress I had just undone to return, feeling my opening begin to spread again just a bit as the egg slowly shifted downward.

Finally, after two hours of feeling the egg ever so slowly stretch me open, I left work for the day and as quickly as I could rushed to my car. The second I sat down, the angle from the seat and my jeans pushed the egg back into me a bit, causing me to groan at the feeling. I pressed a hand to my throbbing cunt, feeling the slight outline of the egg though my pants. It wasn't crowning, but it was getting close. Driving home was almost as bad as working, the constant burning and subconscious pushing but the egg not being able to move due to my underwear and jeans.

I managed to get into my home with only a slight waddle, not being able to fully close me legs with the giant egg weighing between them. I didn't even try to get to my room, heading to the couch in the living room and striping off every article of clothing on my body. I pressed one hand over my pussy again, feeling the egg against my palm. It felt like it was tearing me open, at least the size of an ostrich egg, and hand more of a bumpy texture. I whimpered for hours as I squatted and tried to push the egg out of my cunt, playing with my clit to try and ease the slide out with arousal. Around 11pm, I finally got the egg to crown, crying out as it felt like I was being split open and simultaneously orgasming, managing to have the egg pop and slip free of my poor, overstretched cunt.

[jennelikejennay]

I know this is basically heresy to the Spock fandom. I know a lot of people will disagree, and fics will continue to do things exactly the way they always have. But I must speak my truth.

Spock is not green.

Spock's blood is green but his skin is best described as sallow. Pale with a yellow undertone.

Likewise humans are not honestly all that pink (no matter what Shran says). But we are more pink than Spock is green. We have a pink undertone, but Spock's undertone is yellow.

I've thought it over: the colors of human blood, with and without oxygen; the colors of copper, oxidized and not; the color of the copper-based blood of horseshoe crabs; the optical qualities of human skin. And I offer an explanation.

If you have a lightish skin tone and you flip your forearm over, you'll see blue veins. Which is why you probably grew up thinking unoxygenated blood is blue. It's actually not; it's purple.

What we're seeing is a scattering effect. You know how the sun shines in the atmosphere, and most of the color comes straight through just fine, but the blue covers the whole sky instead of coming straight down with the rest of the sunlight? That's because our atmosphere lets the other colors straight through (the warm white of the sun as seen from Earth) but scatters blue, making it seem like it's coming from everywhere.

Human skin does the same thing to red. While blue comes straight through, as if the skin were transparent, showing clear-edged veins, red is scattered. You won't see your arteries. Instead you see a pink cast that seems to be coming from everywhere.

Importantly, which colors show through and which are scattered has nothing to do with our blood, and everything to do with the optical properties of our skin.

Back to Spock. Oxidized, his blood is grass green. Which is kind of odd when you think about it. Horseshoe crabs have copper-based blood, and it's blue. When it doesn't have oxygen in it, it's pretty much colorless.

And this is the color of oxidized copper. I wouldn't call it grass green. The proper word is verdigris.

So for Spock's blood to be grass green, there's probably something yellow in it. The plasma, or the white blood cells, or whatever.

Unoxygenated, copper is ... well, copper-colored. Orangey-brown. I'm not sure if it's possible for anyone's blood to ever get fully unoxygenated—cells just aren't that efficient. But if we assume Spock's blood is less green and more orange when unoxygenated, we might expect a yellowish-brown, yellow being the only color in both green and copper.

So we just have to assume Spock's skin has optical qualities which allow yellow through more than green or brown. The yellow is scattered, while visible blood vessels (if Spock has any) might be green or brown.

Yes, I'm arguing that Spock blushes yellowish. His ordinary skin tone would darken. You wouldn't have a whole new color showing up.

None of this implies that Spock's mucus membranes (tongue, gums, internal parts of genitals such as a sheathed penis) wouldn't be green. Without the thick, protective Vulcan skin, a lot more would show through.

I'm just saying, Spock looks pale-to-yellow on the show and I'm okay with that. I think science can justify it. (Alternatively, as SPOCKNALIA argues, Vulcan skin is too thick to show much through it, and the yellow tone is Vulcan melanin.)

However, I may still continue to have Spock blush green just for art's sake, and you can too. The only law of fanfic is that your canon is whatever you say it is.

[artifacts-and-arthropods]

Green Shell Semi-Slug: the researchers who discovered this species originally wanted to name it "Ibycus felis," because it often rests with its tail curled around its body, which reminded them of a sleeping cat

The Latin name of this species is Ibycus rachelae, but it's also known as a green-shelled or long-tailed semi-slug. The species was first described in 2008, and it is found only in the montane forests of Sabah (Borneo) and Peninsular Malaysia.

The term "semi-slug" refers to an intermediate stage of evolution as a snail evolves into a slug. These snails still have shells that are at least partially visible, but they have been reduced to the point where the shell can no longer accommodate the snail's whole body. There are many different species of semi-slug, but most of them have a noticeably reduced, receding, and/or transparent shell that is partially concealed beneath the mantle.

This article describes another peculiar characteristic of semi-slugs (including Ibycus rachelae):

... semi-slugs don’t just look weird, they act weird, too. They employ sharp projectiles called love darts in their courtship rituals, by shooting several of them at a prospective mate. The mate, in turn, shoots several love darts right back.

Researchers have found that if semi-slugs are able to lodge love darts into one another, the subsequent copulation tends to be much more successful. It’s thought that the mucus distributed by the love dart ensures greater survivability of the sperm

This is what the "love darts" look like (when magnified under SEM):

The tiny, harpoon-like structures are made of calcium carbonate, and they transmit certain hormones (via mucus) that help to increase the likelihood of reproductive success. Semi-slugs are not the only gastropods that use "love darts," however; they are also used by some other land snails and slugs.

Sources & More Info:

World Wildlife Fund: Borneo's New World (PDF)

Basteria (Journal): The Slugs and Semislugs of Sabah, Malaysian Borneo (PDF)

Forest Research Institute Malaysia: Introduction to the Land Snails and Slugs of Malaysia (PDF)

Malay Peninsular Terrestrial Molluscs: Ibycus rachelae

Live Science: World's Longest Bug and 'Ninja' Slug Discovered in Borneo

Australian Geographic: Meet the Semi-Slug, a Snail without a Home

[azsazz]

Dead by Dawn (Part 19)

Azriel x Cassian x Reader

Summary: Zombie!AU: It’s been a while since the end of the world.

Warnings: Blood, gore, injury, graphic depictions of violence, poly!relationship, slow burn, undead, death, sex, anal, double penetration, fingering.

Word Count: 4689

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18)

_________________________________________

Day 195 Part 5

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“What did you just say?” Nesta’s tone is flat, as if all of the emotion that was previously pouring from her soul miraculously disappeared as her walls slammed back up. It’s eerie, how she does that. She sounds like death incarnate, and not the undead zombie kind. Her face is stony, silver glare sharp as a blade, and the way she won’t stop staring at you makes your throat seize.

Maybe you shouldn’t have blurted the conclusion you’d come to upon examining Elain’s wounds. She’s surprisingly coherent for someone bitten by a zombie four weeks ago, and with the symptoms you noticed, her mucus changing from black in color to clear, her fever on the verge of breaking, coherent enough to form full sentences, she seems as well on the mend as she would be with any other sickness.

But how could this disease possibly work that way? Yeah, it seems too fucking simple, really, like an age-old gotchya! movie moment that’s going to kick you all in the ass later on. How could any of these creatives possibly have nailed such an ending like this? A cure for the zombie apocalypse? In the blood of a singular family? Well, as far as you can tell, anyway. Been there, done that, seen that in the cinemas three times over, but you ate it up every single time.

Now that you’re living it, you can confirm that everything about the apocalypse is not that exciting and not that cinematic.

The only sound in the room is Feyre’s soft whimpers of pain. She’s out cold, succumbed to the virus threatening to take control of her body, but she’s breathing, even if it sounds like she swallowed a harmonica. Her restless unconsciousness, at least, draws Rhys’ attention from where he’s still being stiff-armed by Cassian. You’re not angry with the way he reacted to your help…or lack thereof. You’re just as worried about Feyre as he is, as anyone in this house is, and you glance at your best friend as if you can will it into her to survive by looks alone.

It's hard to see her like this, but you hold firm to the notion that the Archeron family can defeat the odds stacked against humanity, and that she’ll pull through.

You give yourself a nod of reassurance and straighten your spine as you shift your gaze from Feyre to her oldest sister. Those piercing gray eyes are soul-sucking in their own way, but you know that Nesta is a terrified girl somewhere beneath all of that iron and nails. Not only has she almost lost one sister to a zombie bite, but now two? You can’t imagine how she’s feeling in a time like this, and you feel helpless that there isn’t anything more you can do.

“Your blood,” you answer, and are shocked by how strong your voice sounds. Even Rhys looks up from tenderly attending Feyre when you speak, stroking her damp hair from her forehead. You shake your head, continuing. “Look, I couldn’t even begin to explain the science behind my thoughts, but from what I’ve seen of Elain’s wound, it’s that the virus is no longer eating away at her. It’s like when her body finally began combatting against the bite, it just…” You trail off, chewing on your lip as you think. You begin pacing, sorting through your racing thoughts. You hardly notice Eris gently steer Nesta away from you and toward a chair, helping her lower into it. Her spine stays rigid, there is no admitting defeat in front of strangers.

“Froze,” she supplies, and a knowing look washes over her face. She’s still glaring at you with those sharp, silver eyes, but at least she isn’t looking at you like she’s actually going to slit your throat for your crazy theories.

“Right,” you agree. Feyre makes another weak noise of protest, like she’s reliving the nightmare of when she was bitten. How scared she must have been, out there alone with Rhys, searching for you, Azriel, and Cassian and a place to call your own. You should’ve never split up.

You tear your gaze from your friend, sliding it down to the arm you wrapped in gauze. You’re terrified to look, to see if the black of the virus in her veins is actively eating at her. The onyx blood polluting her veins travels from the site of the bite, winding all the way down to the tips of her fingers, the black leeching into an intricate spiderweb pattern of her veins. Slowly, carefully, you ease the sleeve of her shirt back above the wound and peek under. The release of breath you let out makes you realize how truly exhausted you are. The wound hasn’t crept any higher yet, hasn’t continued making its way toward her heart, so you take it as a good sign, for now. You’ll have someone monitor her throughout the night.

 “Whatever is in their blood is fighting back against the infection,” you explain. “I don’t know how, or if there’s anyone else out there who’s blood can do the same,”—that is a conversation for later, you note, noticing the weary glance shared between Nesta and Eris. You redirect the end of your sentence to Rhysand, who murmurs something softly in Feyre’s ear, his attention completely focused on what you’re saying. “But all we can do now is wait.”

You lean into Azriel’s side when he sidles up beside you, reading your wearied fatigue on your face. His body is solid and warm and you want to both nuzzle closer and step back, all too aware of how you might smell, the things you’ve touched today. It’s the first time you’ve felt this dirty in a long while. You’ve gotten used to the second, and third, and fourth layers of skin in the form of muck and grime. You ache to get clean.

Azriel doesn’t let you get far, sliding a hand around your waist and pulling you into his broad chest. You hope that the few layers of filth can cover the blush creeping up your neck. This still feels so new with him, the silent, stoic man who you’d figured wouldn’t dare show his rivals his weakness like this. Something must have happened while he and Cassian joined Nesta and Eris in finding your friends if he’s allowing them to see the intimacy between you two.

Public displays of affection are definitely more Cassian’s thing. Case-in-point, he’s grinning like his smile is going to split his face in two, hazel eyes sparking at the picture you and Azriel paint. It’s one that makes his cock twitch, the urge to drag the both of you somewhere private is strong.

He bounds over with a swagger that looks more like he should be striding shirtless down the beach instead of across a fancily decorated zombie shelter in the form of a man’s home that tried to kill you. You can’t take your eyes off of him, how his muscles jump with each long stride, right until he smothers the both of you in a warm embrace in which you easily accept.

“And what of Elain’s progress?” Nesta clears her throat. You open your eyes and catch Eris giving her a nudging reprimand that she ignores. That’s fine, because you don’t feel bad about being with your boyfriends, either. “She’s been like this for weeks. Borderline delusional, spouting lines like she’s a psychic. She may have been able to fight off the virus, but at what cost? Will we ever see our Elain again?”

It's the first tremble of fear you hear from the unfaltering eldest Archeron. And it’s the money question, the one that you have no more of an answer to than how their blood is stopping the infection from the bite.

You shake your head softly and Nesta’s jaw clacks as her teeth snap shut. She shoves up from the chair she’s sitting at and casts a longing look to Feyre. “Well, then. You’ve upheld your part of the bargain and brought my sister back to us, so you can stay.” It looks like it just about kills her to say it, but Eris looks proud. He even offers you a genuine smile. “We’ll take shifts monitoring her health. Until it’s your turn, you can sleep in the basement.”

You hide the instinctive shudder that spindles down your spine. You and basements don’t have a great record, but Eris’ accompanying words do sweeten the deal.

“There’s a fully stocked bathroom down there, with running water. Please, utilize it to your liking.” You don’t know if this is a polite way of telling you that you stink to the high heavens, but you don’t care. They have running water.

You almost sprint down the stairs on that promise alone, but the two men holding you close don’t let up when you try to squirm away.

Cassian grins at you, amused. You try not to pout, but you can’t wait to step under that clean water. You don’t even care if it’s warm, you just want to rid yourself of too many days of filth to count.

And the idea of showering with Cassian and Azriel…your brain almost short-circuits in your head. You’ll feel much more comfortable with their mouths on your skin if you’re freshly clean, which means that there will definitely be loads of fooling around tonight, if the exhaustion doesn’t drag you down first.

“I’ll take first watch,” Rhys says, already planting himself in a chair beside Feyre’s bad arm. He takes her hand gently in his, cradling it as he watches her face contort and sweat drip down her temples. You hurt for the both of them, wishing that there was more that you could do.

Azriel’s lips catch your temple in a long peck. You meet his gaze as he pulls away, and the look on his face tells you and Cassian to go ahead, that he’s going to speak to Rhys.

You nod and allow Cassian to guide you back into the depths of the home.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

“I don’t know how the fuck we’re supposed to sleep under the same roof as that,” Cassian shivers and you glare.

“Cassian,” you hiss, swatting his arm. He winces, rubbing his bicep and shooting you an apologetic look. “Her name is Elain, and she’s clearly still alive,” you bite, because he’s being unnecessarily rude. Yes, she looks like she looks like the mother of zombies, but she’s still a person, or half of one, anyway.

And Feyre’s currently in the same boat.

You wanted to wait for Azriel to shower, you really did, but the enticing call of the clear waters and the steam when Cassian switched the faucet on was like a siren call. There was no denying yourself any longer, and if Azriel finishes his conversation with Rhys within the next hour or two, you’re pretty sure he’ll be able to join you.

For now, you have Cassian. Honestly, you would have taken a small bucket of water and a rag and made do. You were not expecting a luxurious bath in the basement of this luxurious home, and not only is the shower humungous, but it has multiple showerheads.

Multiple.

You think that your bad luck might finally be turning around.

“Sorry,” he shrugs, sheepishly, and you tug him closer to you by his forearm because the suds dripping down his face almost slide into those big hazel eyes of his with the way that his head is turned down to stare at you apologetically. Quickly, you wipe away the soap. You don’t need to hear him whining if it gets in his eyes, you’d like to enjoy the rest of your shower.

You tut, reluctantly accepting his apology. It’s much easier to when his large hands slide around your waist and tug your body into his. The both of you have refrained from touching thus far, much too interested in the running water and scraping your bodies free of dirt, but now that you’re significantly less dirty, you allow yourself to roam your eyes across every inch of delectable skin he has on show. And you mean every single inch.

Your breath catches in your throat as your body slides against his, leaving no room between you. Your fingers find the hair at the nape of his neck where you play with it, enjoying the feeling of his body pressed against yours.

You can feel his cock filling with need. Despite the hot water beating across your back, your nipples pebble when your chests meet in a deep inhale.

“Cassian,” you breathe, fingers tightening between the strands of his hair. His eyes grow with need, the same need that’s coiling in your gut, begging for attention, for the friction pressed against your stomach.

“Yes?” He teases, but his voice is deep with need. You trail your fingers across his shoulders, unable to keep yourself from wandering. You’d press even closer if there was room to, but there isn’t, so you continue your path down his muscular arms, back up, and then trail your touch down his chest, right between your bodies where you can grip his cock.

Cassian hisses out a sharp breath as your fingers wrap around him. It’s been days since you last fooled around, and he’s never cared about cleanliness, but the fact that he can see what you look like not covered in grime and old blood…you’re fucking breath-taking.

“Touch me,” you beg softly. “I need you to touch me.”

Cassian doesn’t hesitate. His hands wind around your thighs and then he’s hoisting you up into his arms with ease. You wince, nails clawing at his shoulders while you worry about his leg but he shakes his head. He doesn’t even give you the chance to ask because his head dips low, his mouth capturing yours in a desperate kiss.

You part your lips for him, kissing him just as hotly, moaning when his tongue traces yours. You pour everything into the kiss, the emotions wearing on you from days spent locking them up. The loss of half of your group, Feyre being bitten, finding all this. It’s overwhelming in the best way, even more so when Cassian’s fingers skim across your slit, causing you to moan loudly, arching into his chest.

“Fuck,” he curses. His chest heaves against your own as he pulls away to drink in your features as he grips your hips and pulls you even harder against him. Your eyes roll into the back of your head at the friction of his cock against your soaked slit. “You’re so fucking perfect.”

“No, you,” you protest breathlessly, unsure if you’re even making any sense. It doesn’t matter right now, anyway, not with the way you’re dragging your nails down the muscle of his back, telling Cassian that you want more.

His laugh warms your body. It settles between your thighs, the ones that he looks like he wants to settle between. The door opens, stealing both of your attention.

Azriel steps through, running a hand through his dark hair. His lips are pressed in a firm line, his eyes downturned toward the ground. Whatever happened during his conversation with Rhys weighs heavily on him, you catch the flash of sadness in his eyes when he lifts them to meet yours before they fall down you and Cassian’s bodies, drinking in the way you’re entwined with each other.

And Azriel’s gaze heats. Makes you squirm in the best fucking way because you need him just as badly. You want him pressed up against your back, kissing at your neck with his fingers trailing possessively down your body and he and Cassian fight for dominance over you. As he worms his way into your ass, Cassian at your front.

You want both of them, and you want them now.

The words are stuck in your throat, but Azriel sees them. He always does, which is why he wastes no time at all shedding his clothes before entering through the glass door of the shower when you raise your hand to him.

His hazel gaze doesn’t leave yours, not even when Cassian gets back to work, growling deeply against your neck as he ravages you. You release a mewl of pleasure, one hand clamping around the back of his neck to keep him buried against your throat.

Azriel doesn’t stop under one of the many showerheads pouring water. Doesn’t pause at the warmth that drapes itself down his body in a way you could only wish to imitate with the flat of your tongue. He wears the water as well as he wears anything, and his stride doesn’t break until he reaches you.

He caresses your face with a firm hand to your jaw, guiding you right to his lips. He’s sinful with the way that he kisses, knows exactly what to do to make you fucking melt. Even Cassian pulls away to watch the both of you devour each other, and you can feel him growl lowly in his chest, pleasure spiking the temperature of the room to boiling.

You’re so dazed after Azriel’s kiss that you barely catch his words, too busy chasing the taste of his mouth to hear. “Let me wash up first, and I’ll be right here,” he explains, his fingers trailing scalding lines down your back. The tips of his fingers trail right between the crease of your cheeks, a teasing brush over your hole. You shudder with pleasure, automatically leaning further into Azriel for more. You whine when he pulls away, but he kisses you harshly before stepping away completely. “I’m filthy, sweetheart, and you’re all pretty and clean.”

“Make a mess of me, Az,” you keen as Cassian slips a thick finger into your cunt. It slides in with little resistance and you clench around his digit. The both of them threaten to overwhelm you already, and you don’t even have one of their cocks inside of you. How will you be when both of them are sheathed inside of you? “Please.”

“Fuck,” he groans, staring at you up and down. You look like a pretty doll all perched up in Cassian’s arms, ready for the taking. Azriel forces himself a step away, but his hot gaze doesn’t slip from yours. “Let me clean up while Cassian stretches you and I’ll be right there.”

You agree with a huff that shifts into a whine as Cassian teases that finger in a circle, brushing up against your sensitive spot. You hardly get to revel in the feeling before he’s moving further back, pulling out just to press the tip into your ass.

“Relax,” he murmurs against your cheek, peppering encouraging kisses to your face as he slowly works his finger inside of your rear. It’s a foreign feeling, but it doesn’t hurt. You focus on the feeling of his lips on your skin, craning your neck to find his mouth with your own as you force your muscles to relax. “That’s my girl.”

You shudder at those words, liking them all too much.

Half of your time is spent kissing the daylights out of Cassian while the other half of the time is spent ogling Azriel. The delicious curve of his body as he washes the sins of the apocalypse from his body, all so that he can revel in the sins of yours. You can’t help but watch him, the way his muscles contract and contort with his motions. You wish you were the bar of soap he drags down his abs. You swallow harshly when that bar of soap makes it to the vee of his hips and he circles his cock, cleaning himself.

When you rip your eyes away from the display, you catch his hazel ones, glittering with amusement.

You don’t think you can wait all that much longer.

“Quit teasing her, Az,” Cassian groans when you slide yourself against his cock again. It’s a lame attempt at trying to catch his tip so you can sink yourself on him, and when it doesn’t work, you find yourself reaching a hand between your bodies. You can’t wait any longer, you need something inside of you right now or you might burst, but Cassian quickly catches your wrist in his hand, drawing you away from your trophy. “She’s ready.”

You preen at his words, turning to look at Cassian eagerly. His grin is so fucking charming that it makes your heart skip in your chest and you can’t help but lift yourself up to catch his lips against yours, thanking him for being so gentle with you.

“You want to do this in here, pretty girl?” He asks, wiping a strand of hair plastered to your cheek away. His thumb strokes softly against your face, and his eyes are filled with adoration.

“Yes,” you plead. “Yes, yes, please. I want the both of you right here,” you shake your head profusely. Emotions well your eyes. You don’t think that you’ve ever been this aroused before, and not only by one man, but with his companion that has taken you so long to win over. It’s the best thing you’ve ever done and you would do it all over again if you had to.

You turn in Cassian’s arms, reaching for Azriel as he finally nears. He’s as squeaky clean as you are, and he looks utterly fucking edible, even more so when he falls easily into your kiss and plasters himself against your back, trapping you between him and Cassian.

“Please,” you whine again when his lips move from yours in favor of tracing down your skin. His fingers are hot, impatient as they glide across your body, gripping and squeezing every inch of you. Cassian’s doing much the same, and the feeling of the both of them against you is overwhelming in the best possible way.

Azriel hushes you, nipping at your earlobe. Over your shoulder, he makes eye contact with Cassian, who nods. Oh-so slowly, does Azriel take his cock in hand and tease it through your seam, notching the head of himself right against your hole.

“Do it,” you breathe, already arching backwards into him. Azriel doesn’t waste any time, and the both of you release a long, drawn out hiss as he slowly edges his cock into your ass.

“You okay?” He mutters into your ear, though he doesn’t think he could stop himself if he fucking tried. You’re too tight around his cock, if he doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut, he’s going to cum, and he hasn’t even given one full pump inside of you yet. Hell, Cassian hasn’t even worked himself inside of you yet, either. He needs to chill the fuck out.

“More than,” you groan in pleasure. Your fingers curl into the back of his thigh where you’re holding onto him for dear life. “Cass, baby, please!”

“Alright, baby,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your mouth, distracting you as he presses slowly into your cunt. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

And they’re so big. Gods, it’s like they’re fucking ripping you in half. You’ve never felt better though, being stretched by the both of their cocks almost makes the apocalypse and everything you went through worth it.

Azriel grunts at the feeling of Cassian’s cock grinding slowly into you. He can feel it through the wall of muscle that keeps him away from Cassian, and holy fuck, it’s better than anything he’s ever done before.

When Cassian comes to an agonizing stop, his hips meeting yours, there’s a stillness in the air. The three of you take a deep breath as one, and it feels like everything that has been waiting to click into place finally does.

It feels like you can finally breathe.

The three of you are attached as one, and you know that in this moment, that there is no leaving each other again. All for one, and one for all.

You love them, and they love you, even if no one is emotionally available to admit it in this very moment.

“Move,” you grit, before you take matters into your own hands.

Neither man wastes a fucking second, and you cry out loudly as they both begin jerking their hips into yours.

“Oh, my Gods,” you moan loudly, uncaring if the sounds you’re making seep through the floorboards to the floors above. You wouldn’t care if you took the mountains down with your pleas, with the noises they’re forcing out of your body as long as they keep fucking going. “Don’t stop!”

“Never,” Cassian agrees huskily, and you can hear the promise in his voice. He readjusts his hands under your ass, keeping you upright. He revels in the way your fingers drag down his muscle, how your other hand is thrown behind your head, keeping Azriel close as you kiss hungrily. Cassian watches, enjoying the view.

When you and Azriel break apart, it’s because your head is too busy falling back against his shoulder in pleasure. Azriel’s hazel eyes meet Cassian’s heady look. The both of them are sweating, beads mixing with the water that’s still pouring from the spout above. This is unlike anything either of them has experienced before, that either of them ever thought could happen. They found you, and you’ve all accepted each other. It’s a match made in fucking hell, but there’s nothing better.

Cassian can’t take it any longer. You cry out when he shifts forward, capturing Azriel’s mouth against his own. It’s a messy kiss, one where they grapple for dominance, but it’s so fucking hot that it has the pit of your stomach coiling. Their cocks drive into you even faster as they kiss, more teeth than anything, and you trip into your orgasm, gripping onto them as they continue to plunge into you.

Both men rip apart to watch your orgasm ripple over you. You’re so fucking beautiful, and you arch, preen under their heavy, hungry gazes. Fuck, you want their eyes on you always, you’ll do anything for it.

Your body tremors with pleasure, tightening around their cocks in a way that makes them release twin groans of pleasure.

“I’m not going to last,” Cassian pants, and Azriel agrees with a choked moan. That, and the way that your eyes flutter open, your face contorting with pleasure so quickly after your first orgasm, is Cassian’s undoing. He cums with a loud groan, jerking his hips into you once, twice, thrice more before he’s emptying himself inside of you.

The feeling cascades over Azriel last, and he cums, burying his head in your neck. You moan as his canines pierce your skin, harsh but not enough to break skin. You’d be worried about the feeling if you weren’t drowning in fucking pleasure, the feeling akin to what you’ve come to fear the most. Instead, you bury your fingers in his black hair to keep him in place.

“One more,” Azriel encourages softly, voice weighed down with pleasure. His hand snakes around your body and his fingers find your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Cassian groans when you tighten around them again, milking their cocks for all their worth. To help you out, Cassian dips low and sucks one of your pert nipples into his mouth.

You cum again with a scream that nearly shatters the glass shower door.

“There she is,” Cassian grunts against your wet skin, cuddling you close when you deflate into his chest. You whimper when Azriel slowly removes himself from your ass, and Cassian cradles the back of your head. “You did so well, pretty girl. So good for us.”

You can only nod, exhaustion weighing your limbs.

“Sleep,” Azriel encourages, and his hands find your body in a soothing motion as he helps clean you off. There’s a light press of lips against your cheek but you don’t know if it’s Cassian or Azriel’s doing. Maybe both. You let your fatigue carry you into a dreamless sleep, entrusting both men fully to care for you.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

DBD Taglist: @writingsbychlo @kemillyfreitas @5moremin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @waggel36  @bionic-donut @queserasera @applepie02 @azrielsbabyg @arcadianmoonlight @pradaxstyles @illyrian-dreamerdreamer @reiincarnatiion @fuckthatfeeling @shadowsingersmate24 @poppyalice2001 @fallmyriad @sstrohma @tcris2020 @jeannineee @21stcenturytaegi @ochiolism @secretly-here @harrystylesfan2686 @i-am-infinite @lees-chaotic-brain @eternallyelvish @lilah-asteria @randombibitch @st4r-girl-official @nanisearchinginnerpeace @aemondsb1tch @chxosangxl @marigold-morelli @w0nderw0manly

[pickledpet]

Perhaps it was a mistake to choose dinosaurs as your topic for your university's science fair. Perhaps you screwed up following the instructions or did not read them carefully enough.

You sat in your dorm, half your project done, sat on your desk. A little nest where you were going to present the replica dinosaur eggs, without its crown jewel however the eggs.

You rubbed your humongous stomach self consciously which has stretched to an unimaginable size. You were naked but there was no way you could see further than your gargantuan bullet shaped stomach littered with red and purple stretch marks and veins. 'Gives a whole new meaning to "ready to pop"' you thought to yourself. You squirted more oil you purchased from a dubious store (along with the egg kit of course) on your puffy pussy that you could barely reach and rubbed it in. It made you feel hot all over but still you dutifully resumed your nightly ritual.

The rubbing felt incredible, before you knew it you barely had any oil left and you were writhing beneath your stomach. You probably would've arched your back off the bed too if you weren't pinned against it by the weight. Then suddenly something shifted within you, you could practically feel your pelvis creak as a torrent of fluid flooded your bed.

You tried to at least get yourself up on your elbows to see in the mirror facing your bed, what was going on.

The bed was soaked alright and between your legs was something slimey and brownish.

"What the fuck..." you muttered to yourself, trying to at least somehow maneuver your body on your hands and knees. Was this it? Upon examining it closer, you realised what it was and your heart dropped just as an extreme wave of pain washed over you. It was the fucking mucus plug. But why was it so huge. How much would your cervix have to dilate if this was keeping it sealed. 15 cm? 20 cm?

You started to feel sick. Just how many eggs were there?!

The sudden pressure increasing tenfold halted your train of thought.

At least you were already on your hands and knees right, besides you had the whole night to yourself. You bore down gingerly and hoped that your huge stomach pressing against the mattress would help too. Nothing but more liquid came out and the pain and pressure was only increasing.

After 3 hours of rocking back and forth with 0 results you decided it was time to get serious about this. You steadied yourself, gripped the sheets and gave a huge push.

Nothing.

1 hour into birthing with all your might you didn't even notice how far apart your legs were and how much your lower half felt like jelly when finally you felt something behind your entrance. Encouraged by the progress you began pressing on the top of your stomach with one hand while gritting your teeth and bearing down hard. Something began emerging. Covered in a slimey substance a jelly like egg started poking through your aching cunt. You moaned and pushed as hard as you could, waiting for the relief of it plopping out onto the blanket so you could birth the rest but it never came. With the next effort you buried your face into your pillow, hopefully muffling your desperate screams. Every time you let up the egg would slide back, nestled deep into the warm slick of your pussy.

This went on for another hour or so when you finally gave a push hard enough that got the egg to a point it wouldn't slip back from. You almost felt relieved. It will slide out any second, right?

Your pussy was stretched to its natural limit as you panted and pushed. But this birth was anything but natural...your only luck was that you kept up your oil regimen because soon you felt something slick and almost gelatinous touch your inner thighs, even with your legs spread.

"Wh-what?!" You whined into the pillow.

Fuck.

No no no no no.

This was supposed to be several small eggs not ONE. Cold sweat covered every inch of your body as the realisation hit. How would this ever come out?! There was no way you could call for help, what would you say, not to mention that you were fully immobilised by the gargantuan egg spreading you open way past what should be humanly possible.

Back when you realised what was happening to you, you tried watching at least SOME birthing videos though you knew your experience would be nothing like that. You tried to think back to them hoping to remember anything from the ones where petite women would have to squeeze out a 10lbs kid. Although even those babies would seem like light work compared to whatever was stuck in you. The pain made it much to hard to think but then suddenly you had an idea!

Gravity would help.

You gathered all your strength to heave yourself up from your hands and knees only onto your knees you could hopefully get into a crouching position from there. However as soon as you glanced up and caught your reflection in the mirror, in a split second, before you could change the outcome you realised it was a huge mistake.

The egg was absolutely humongous and your pussy was stretched grotesquely around it, completely white and on the brink of tearing and worst of all you could not kneel down as the egg was so gargantuan. It was touching the mattress. Or at least you couldn't kneel down without the egg sliding back into your tortured cunt a few inches with a sickening squelch.

You held back the urge to throw up and fought until you were in a squatting position.

You didn't care about making noise anymore, you screamed while pushing down on your pulsating stomach that was urging you to expell the giant egg while with your other hand you reached down to rub your clit. The clit you could barely locate as it was practically flat against the egg with your pussy pulled so taut.

This seemed to be somewhat helping you progress however an earth shattering orgasm caught you off guard and you lost your balance.

You fell onto your back and with the sudden change of position your birth canal caused the hideously massive egg to practically be sucked in once more. All the progress you made was undone and the wind was knocked out of you at the ginormous intrusion. You screamed and thrashed on the bed, violently pressing down on your stomach and pushing with strength you didn't know where you got from.

By this time you were laboring for over 8 hours. You laid in bed and just felt wave after wave of contraction wash over you, the weight of the egg in your birth canal had to be about 50lbs and every 10 minutes or so you felt a dull sensation of pleasure course through you as the contractions were easing the egg out of you agonising by agonising millimeter and every once in a while it'd brush against your tortured clit just right.

You were just about to resign yourself to your fate when you realised the small bottle of oil was within reach in this cursed position. There was still some left, not that it'd make much difference now, you were probably going to die like this. With a humongous egg wrecking your lower half.

You picked up the bottle and with hazy eyes read the instructions again. This was your last hope. Maybe you missed something.

'MORE effective if orally taken?!'

Your eyes widened as you wasted no time gulping down the last of it. Too bad you didn't read another sentence which would've clarified that you only need droplets in a glass of water.

It immediately took effect and kicked your labour into high gear again, you screamed as you practically felt your womb and birth canal undulating, forcing you to scream and push like never before. You spread your legs nearly into a split while thrusting your hips into the air.

"Fuck! FUCK! My cunt will tear, fuck fuck my pussy!!!"

The egg slowly slid out and stopped at its widest point. This made you trying to hold your legs back an utter waste as the egg was already doing it for you. The pain made you unable to breathe properly. You took shallow panicked breaths but by this point you lost all sense of your dignity.

You HAD to give birth then and there.

You let out an animalistic scream and screwed your eyes shut. A vein popped out on your forehead and no doubt you burst a few blood vessels. You didn't care anymore, you used both hands to push down on your stomach and gritted your teeth hard enough to chip them

"FUCK, COME OUT ALREADY!!"

Then with a contraction that made you see stars, the egg erupted from your canal, not to mention the aftershocks of your final effort pushed out at least 5 liters of whatever fluid this was out of your pussy along with the huge egg, mixed with urine that you couldn't bear to hold any longer. Your bed was sopping wet and your cunt twitched and pulsated as one of the most intense orgasms of your life ripped through you.

Before you passed out you mustered enough strength to glance at the clock on your bedside table.

It was almost midday.

Didn't the science fair end at 11...?

[sparrowlucero]

So what do we think Beebe's fish were then? I heard tell that the sailfin might have been a squid and that the angelfish was probably a comb jelly, but what about the giant dragonfish or the rainbow gar?

For those not in the know, in the 1930s, biologist William Beebe (who you (read: I) might know as the guy who predicted microraptor) and engineer Otis Barton (hollywood actor?? and designer of fucked up submarines and "jungle spaceships", ok otis) got into a fucked up submarine and went to the bottom of the ocean off the coast of bermuda (in what, iirc, was the first study of deep sea fish in their natural habitat), where he described several fish unknown to science. None of these fish have been identified since. (Side Note: to continue off of "audubon was unfamiliar with the bald eagle" in my last post, this one also has a theory I find a bit silly in "perhaps they just hallucinated fake fish from oxygen deprivation" despite both witnessing the same fish and a lot of his scary book about the dive that you can read here including many lucid observations of known species. It wasn't like he got down there and only saw weird fish and nothing else) The fish in order: Three-starred anglerfish, Abyssal Rainbow Gar, Pallid sailfin, Five-lined Constellation Fish

and yeah I do see why people think these might have been invertebrates mistakenly identified as fish. In his book, Beebe holds off on describing unfamiliar fish if he didn't see them well, but, you know, those little gars really do look like squid. I personally think the most likely one to be a real fish is the angler, since he saw it closely and was able to note several physiological differences in jaw structure that distinguished it from other angler fish.

The most notable one is the "Untouchable Bathysphere Fish", a giant 6 foot long dragonfish (largest known dragonfish is about 2 feet long):

Several minutes later, at 2100 feet, I had the most exciting experience of the whole dive. Two fish went very slowly by, not more than six or eight feet away, each of which was at least six feet in length. They were of the general shape of large barracudas, but with shorter jaws which were kept wide open all the time I watched them. A single line of strong lights, pale bluish, was strung down the body. The usual second line was quite absent. The eyes were very large, even for the great length of the fish. The undershot jaw was armed with numerous fangs which were illumined either by mucus or indirect internal lights. Vertical fins well back were one of the characters which placed it among the sea-dragons, Melanostomiatids, and were clearly seen when the fish passed through the beam. There were two long tentacles, hanging down from the body, each tipped with a pair of separate, luminous bodies, the upper reddish, the lower one blue. These twitched and jerked along beneath the fish, one undoubtedly arising from the chin, and the other far back near the tail. I could see neither the stem of the tentacles nor any paired fins, although both were certainly present. This is the fish I subsequently named Bathysphera intacta, the Untouchable Bathysphere Fish.

I believe this solely because it's really cool Though I want posit a theory I've never heard before: it's almost never remarked upon that he discovered these weird fish over a live (now lost media that no one is searching for, get on that) NBC radio broadcast. Maybe he just made up some cool sea monsters with a big climactic sea serpent for said broadcast, both because I would totally do that if it were me and also so he had a good excuse to sign off and get the fuck out of this situation:

[hrrtshape]

i heard it was ask ema hogwarts questions hour!! i found ur answers to my last ask about this so interesting, especially when you talked about the goblin wars and witch princesses. did you learn anything about how magic was found? or yk like the beginning of witchcraft. cavemen but wizards? do you have to handle anything disgusting for potions? like an animals eyeball or teeth?

what’s the relationship gossip? are sirius and remus together? is james dramatically on his knees for lily? is regulus moody and alone or has he realised he’s cable of love… and with who?

i’m super interested in what the creative subjects are like if there is any. what’s the difference between muggle art and witchy art? is there music or creative writing classes?

is it strange not having a phone? no tumblr for 5 months 💔💔💔

are you on the quidditch team? and is there any other sports you can do?

other than hogsmede, have you ventured out of the castle? to diagon alley or the leaky cauldron? do you have school trips?

have you met moaning myrtle? and since u know where the chamber of secrets is, do you plan on keeping that a secret or going to explore it?

ok some last questions. what’s the fashion like? what’s your fave wizard candy? are there witch/wizard celebrities? are you a animagus? whats it like turning into an animal? i’d freak the fuck out. i’m going to be in ravenclaw, have you been to their common room and what’s it like? okay that’s all thank u soooooo much ur the coolest ever

oh my god, you’re actually my favorite person for asking all of this !?!?!?

ancient wizard cavemen lore

YES, actually. i had so many late-night discussions (arguments) with remus about this. magic has always been there, but how it was discovered is a whole other thing. apparently, the earliest wizards didn’t even use wands. they just felt it and willed things to happen. which, honestly, terrifying. imagine some neolithic dude just thinking about fire and accidentally setting his entire cave on fire. but yeah, magic was raw back then. chaotic. unrefined. people had no clue what they were doing.

potions class horrors

potions is literally a nightmare class. why is there always something festering in a jar? why do i have to desecrate a frog just to pass a test? some highlights of things i have had to touch.......

flobberworm mucus (somehow both slimy and sticky??? defies science.)

an entire rat spleen (it plopped onto my desk. i have never known true horror until that moment.)

something’s eyeball. never identified what animal it belonged to. refused to ask.

relationship gossip

sirius and remus? no. sssorrrryyyy. i love wolfstar truthers but those two were too busy being insufferable and not realising they should be together. tragic, honestly.

james? so on his knees for lily. practically living in that position.

regulus. moody, yes. alone? debatable. i have seen some things. and i have some thoughts. but i’ll let the mystery simmer. 🫣

wizard arts & creativity

SO interesting. muggle art is about technique, but wizard art is alive. literally. paintings move, obviously, but also change depending on the mood of the room. i saw a portrait sulk once. music is enchanted, instruments play themselves, but it’s all very classical. like no wizard rock bands, just dramatic orchestral stuff. creative writing exists, but sometimes the words change on their own if they think you could do better. imagine your journal critiquing you. horrifying.

living without a phone

yes. it hurt. five months without tumblr was a near crisis. but i had scripted it wouldn’t bother me, so it was fine. (except for the fact that my brain still thought in twitter slang. painful. imagine if i had said that we should celebrate my 19th birthday in poland. like. that is what was going on in my mind)

quidditch & sports

seeker for gryffindor, obviously. and listen, me and coryo on the pitch,,,,(NOT LIKE THAT. DON’T EVEN START.) warfare. i have never hated someone more in my life than when we were mid-air chasing the snitch. other sports were wizard duelling was kind of a thing, though very much not encouraged as an official extracurricular.

leaving the castle

yeah!! hogsmeade is the obvious one, but we also had school trips to diagon alley, and there were some special trips for certain subjects. like visiting the ministry for political studies (yes. i had to script that in). also, technically not allowed, but i may have wandered past the usual boundaries of the castle a few times. (listen. curiosity is a disease.)

moaning myrtle & chamber of secrets

met myrtle. love her, but also, girl, please get a hobby besides haunting bathrooms. and yes, i know where the chamber is. and no, i am absolutely not going in there. why would i do that. i value my life.

wizard fashion

robes are standard, obviously, but people get creative. lots of vintage, lots of flowy silhouettes, lots of layers. wizard fashion is like if academia and cottagecore had a chaotic crazy baby. my favourite thing was these enchanted scarves that would shift colours depending on mood. so dramatic. never wore them tho. 70s fashion was crazy.

wizard candy

chocolate frogs (obviously !!!!)

fizzing whizzbees (they make you float. it’s terrifying if you’re unprepared.)

sugar quills (technically candy, but also great for just chewing on absentmindedly.)

wizard celebrities

yes!!! there are famous quidditch players, obviously, but also famous duelists and curse-breakers. and yes we did discuss whether musicians such as david bowie could be a wizard !!!! we didn't find out though : (

animagus life

yes!!! i was a fox. yes, it’s predictable. shut up. transforming is insane. it’s like your body folds in on itself and suddenly you’re seeing the world from a whole different perspective. super cool but also incredibly disorienting.

ravenclaw common room

been there!!! it’s in a tower, and you have to answer a riddle to get in, which is hilarious because sometimes even the ravenclaws get stuck outside debating answers. it’s very airy, very full of books, and the vibe is so pretentious in the best way.

okay. that was a LOT but your questions were elite. 10/10. feel free to send more. 💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

[polaroidcats]

What is vaginal lycantrophy?

Written by P. Cat, Professor of Species Shenanigans, PhD in Ugly Crying Science, and PhD in Gynecological Cryptozoology

Special thanks to my esteemed colleague and collaborator tumblr user @lynxindisguise, PhD in Spooky Ooky Ghost Sex, PhD in Ugly Crying Science.

Overview

Vaginal lycantrophy, more commonly known as werewolf pussy is a rare genetic disorder that affects about 0,03% of Britain's population. Most people with vaginal lycantrophy will not show any symptoms for the first 10-15 years of their lives, and only those who start to menstruate will get a clear confirmation of their lycantrophic status. However, any non-menstruating person carrying the lycantrophaginal gene may pass it on to their children. This article aims to give an overview of the most common symptoms and treatment options for this condition.

How to tell if my child is affected?

A person born with vaginal lycantrophy may experience unusual discomfort in their genitals in the weeks or months leading up to their first menstruation. Common symptoms of pre-pubescent children or young adults with vaginal lycantrophy include: stomach cramps, vaginal discomfort, unusual discharge, random bloodlust, dizziness, nausea, growling or purring vulvas, tiredness, mild fever, unusually thick and fluffy pubic hair, clitoral baby teeth, headaches. If you or your child show any of these symptoms do not hesitate to contact a doctor or healer to get confirmation of your lycantrophic status. The doctor can find out the lycantrophic status via genetic testing or a quick vaginal examination during the days surrounding the full moon, when the moonstruation usually occurs.

What are the symptoms of vaginal lycantrophy?

Once a lycantrophic person has experienced their first moonstruation, the symptoms of vaginal lycantrophy may vary, depending on the moonstrual phases:

The moonstruation/Full Moon

This phase usually starts two days before the full moon and ends two days after the full moon, lasting five days on average. Symptoms include:

Sudden growth of teeth and/or fangs in the clitoral area

Growling or howling noises coming out of the vulva

Dizziness, shortness of breath

Nausea

Random bursts of bloodlust

Sensitivity to silver (in severe cases even leading to allergic shock reactions)

Snapping and biting movements by the genital teeth

Breast tenderness

Genital toothaches

Restlessness or intense sleepiness

Shedding of regular pubic hair

Sudden appearance of thick lycantrophic pubic fur

The furricular phase:

This phase starts three days after the full moon and lasts until the new moon/ovulation. Symptoms include:

Disappearance of genital teeth and all other moonstruation symptoms

Shedding of lycantrophic pubic fur, quick regrowth of regular pubic hair

Minimal vaginal discharge

Ovulation/New Moon:

Slick and slippery vaginal discharge / mucus

Abdominal pain

Breast tenderness

Strong vaginal yearning when confronted with a moonless sky

The lycantrophal phase:

This phase starts the day after the new moon and lasts until three days before the full moon.

Mild or severe lycantrophic fever

Furry discharge

Mood changes

Trouble sleeping

Random bursts of blood lust

Increased need for cuddling

Bloating

If you are a carrier of the lycantrophaginal gene but do not menstruate during the full moons you should contact a specialist to ensure no other conditions are affecting the natural moonstrual cycle.

Diagnosis and Tests

Vaginal lycantrophy is generally diagnosed during the menarche. If a person exhibits any of the above mentioned symptoms or there are any other medical concerns, do not hesitate to reach out to your GP to get a referral for genetic testing for the lycantrophaginal gene.

Management and Treatment

The severeness of the lycantrophic symptoms dictate what forms of treatment are recommended. If you are suffering from severe symptoms, you may ask your doctor or healer about the use of wolfsbane. In recent years, several case studies (L. Indisguise & P. Cat 2025; 2024; S. Black-Lupin 2023; 2021; 2008; 2005; S. Snape et al. 1993; L. Lupin 1976) on wolfsbane have shown that it has few to no side effects (the biggest one being increased sleepiness and drowsiness) and offers great relief to persons not wanting to deal with the blood lust and snapping teeth. Wolfsbane turns the lycantrophic vulva into a regular canine vulva while keeping the lycantrophic vagina and uterus intact, alleviating the most uncomfortable symptoms of the condition.

Outlook/Prognosis

While living with vaginal lycantrophy may require some accommodations during the moonstrual phases, there are no indications that people affected by it have a different life expectancy than people who are not carrying the lycantrophaginal gene.

[tangents-within-tangents]

The Bad Batch as Penguins of Madagascar Quotes

Bc I’ve seen a few posts making this magnificent comparison and both of these squads are near and dear to my heart and bc I need a distraction from the s3 premiere ahhh

Tech: *mission relevant info* Hunter: Tell me something I don’t know! Tech: Without mucus your stomach would digest itself Hunter: … Hunter: Tell me something else I don’t know…something less disturbing

Hunter: (to Caleb) It's okay, kid. We're not going to hurt you Crosshair: *cocks his gun* Not true, Hunter, they did authorize lethal force

Wrecker: *absolutely decking his bros* You pillow fight like a bunch of little girls!

Crosshair: What part of "zip it" eludes you?! The "zip" or the "it"?!

Echo: I don't mind saying it, that guy vexes me. *narrows eyes* He's a vexer.

Hunter: Boys, no training tonight. It's game night! Tech: Trivia! Let's play trivia! I dominate trivia! Omega: Oh! Can we play Simon Says this week? Tech: Yes, Simon says we play TRIVIA!!

Crosshair: I find reason tedious and boring. We'll use force.

Echo: I'm sorry, boys. I sometimes resort to sarcasm when facing the unknown Tech: No doubt

Hunter: Oh I’ve seen accident prone, try Wrecker and Crosshair! With a Chandrilan lantern! And SIX BOTTLES of rocket fuel!! Tech: Worst talent show ever

Hunter: There's no such thing as too paranoid, Omega. Remember that, and forget you ever heard it!

Tech: SCIENCE! WHY HAVE YOU FORSAKEN ME?!?

Omega: I have an idea! But I'm not sure how safe it is Wrecker: I like it already!

Crosshair: *while fighting* You cannot win, Hunter! I am fueled with a boiling hate! A raging fury! Hunter: And a babbling mouth! *slaps him*

Omega: No! I swore I’d never use my adorability as a weapon again, and I meant it!

Echo: Wrecker, cover Omega’s ears, I intend to use my angry words

Tech: This red line shows the frustration level of a really smart person forced to take orders from some dunder-brained boob. As you can see the frustration just keeps rising and rising and rising. I mean, why don't they put the smart guy in charge, huh? IT DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE! SOMETHING HAS GOT TO GIVE, PEOPLE! AM I THE ONLY ONE SEEING THIS?!

Wrecker and Omega: *run in making incomprehensible panicked noises* Hunter: Anyone catch that? Echo: *nonchalantly interprets it exactly* The Batch: … Echo: What? I’m fluent in panic

Tech: Cool cars go faster. That's a scientific fact.

Cody, in his one episode: I believe now I know why “volunteers” ends in “tears”

Hunter: No batcher gets left behind, that’s why! Wrecker: What about Crosshair? Hunter: Okay, one batcher gets left behind Omega: and Echo? Hunter: Maybe two batchers get left behind Tech: Um… Hunter: *groan* Comparatively few batchers get left behind, okay?!

Omega: I thought you agreed this was a dangerous weapon! Wrecker: Which is the best kind! What good is a safe weapon?! Tech: He has a point

Hunter: Avert your eyes, young Omega, you’ll never be able to unsee this! Tech, recording bc that’s his freaking hobby: Don’t worry about it I’ll burn you a dvd!

Crosshair: *standing outside the Marauder* Hunter! I have brought you a hand drawn greeting card! It says “Roses are red. Posies are green. Sorry about Bracca, I was too mean. Your pal, Crosshair” :) Hunter: *walks out and shreds the card*

Hunter: Get up here. That’s an order! Tech: *salutes* Permission to defy order? Hunter: Permission denied! Tech: Then I deny your denial (sorry)

Echo: *watching Hunter and Wrecker, captured and surrounded by stormtroopers* Well this hardly seems fair Echo: *jumps in a walker and defeats them easily* Told you it wasn't fair

*Phee and Tech kiss* Omega: *eyes being covered by Hunter* awww Wrecker: Finally!

[bestanimal]

Round 2 - Chordata - Dipnoi

(Sources - 1, 2, 3, 4)

Dipnoi is a class of Sarcopterygiian fish commonly called “lungfish”. While widely distributed since the Early Devonian, today only 6 species remain. They are the closest living relatives to tetrapods (amphibians, reptiles, and mammals).

Like other Sarcopterygiians, lungfish have lobed, bony fins and a well-developed internal skeleton. True to their name, they have a highly specialized respiratory system which includes lungs, subdivided into numerous smaller air sacs. Most extant lungfish species have two lungs, with the exception of the Australian Lungfish (Neoceratodus forsteri), which has only one. The Australian Lungfish can breathe through its gills without needing air from its lung, but in all other species the gills are too atrophied to allow for adequate gas exchange. Lungfish have unique dentition, bearing fan-shaped tooth plates called odontodes, which are used to crush hard shelled organisms. Some groups have ridges on these tooth plates that form occluding blades. They are omnivorous, feeding on fish, insects, crustaceans, worms, mollusks, amphibians, and plant matter. African and South American Lungfish are capable of surviving seasonal drying-out of their habitats by burrowing into mud and estivating throughout the dry season.

(own work)

Propaganda under the cut:

The Australian Lungfish has existed in Australia for at least 100 million years, making it a true living fossil and one of the oldest living vertebrate genera on the planet. It is the most primitive surviving member of the ancient Dipnoi lineages.

The Marbled Lungfish's (Protopterus aethiopicus) genome contains 133 billion base pairs, making it the largest known genome of any vertebrate. The only organisms known to have more base pairs are the amoeboid Polychaos dubium and the flowering plant Paris japonica at 670 billion (possibly) and 150 billion, respectively.

The Spotted Lungfish (Protopterus dolloi) can aestivate on land by surrounding itself in a layer of dried mucus.

An Australian Lungfish named “Granddad” at the Shedd Aquarium in Chicago lived to be 109 years old, before he had to be euthanized due to an age-related decline in health. The current oldest Australian Lungfish is now “Methuselah”, who lives at the California Academy of Sciences, and is around 100 years old. Methuselah has been described as "mellow" by her keeper. She is also noted to like belly rubs, back rubs, and fresh figs.

Australian Lungfish are one of the cutest animals on the planet and I want a life-sized plushie/body pillow of one

[covid-safer-hotties]

Also preserved in our archive

The COVID-19 virus spreads via mucus once inside an infected airway, allowing it to reach into the lower lungs, according to a Northwestern Medicine study published in Nature Communications.

More than 770 million cases of COVID-19 have been reported to the World Health Organization since the onset of the pandemic in 2020.

While it's understood that the virus latches onto healthy cells in the nose and throat to copy itself, not much is known about the process by which it spreads once inside an infected airway.

To better understand how the virus proliferates, investigators in the laboratory of Thomas Hope, Ph.D., professor of Cell and Developmental Biology and of Obstetrics and Gynecology and senior author of the study, performed live imaging of human bronchial epithelium cells exposed to COVID-19.

In the study, investigators observed that the movement of mucus can spread the COVID-19 virus inside the respiratory tract, where it later forms aerosols that infect other people. Additionally, the virus travels on mucus to infect deeper into the lower lung.

(Follow link for video here)

"The virus goes where the mucus goes," said Mark Becker, a student in the Driskill Graduate Program in Life Sciences (DGP) and first author of the study.

Although mucus is generally thought to protect against infection by trapping and removing viruses and other particles, COVID-19 appears to exploit mucosal spread following an infection, Becker said.

As funding begins to dwindle for COVID-19 research, Hope said the discovery could prove useful in other viral diseases, such as HIV.

"Interestingly, the mucosal environment most similar to the lungs is the upper female reproductive tract," Hope said.

"The infrastructure at Feinberg really helped us build the facilities needed for this research," Hope said. "The university really supported us and that is a testament to what a great environment Feinberg is."

More information: Mark E. Becker et al, Live imaging of airway epithelium reveals that mucociliary clearance modulates SARS-CoV-2 spread, Nature Communications (2024). DOI: 10.1038/s41467-024-53791-4 www.nature.com/articles/s41467-024-53791-4

[yatori-morgana]

(Minimal proofreading)

Was speculating some random mer biology with Mom. First, I mentioned how we're all dying to see if Georgina gets an on-screen merform for obvious reasons — but I also have a question it'd answer.

There are two types of mer I've taken note of: those with human upper halves, and those that are more fishy all over like the octotrio. Do the more fishy mer have breasts similar to us, or don't they? We know the humanoid ones do. Mom and I speculated, if so, they might just have the fat, and it could work for buoyancy. There's a reason we have the phrase "tits up", haha.

We know that male merfolk like the octotrio don't have nipples. Yes, some anime art styles, for some reason, don't draw men with nips, but we've seen that's not the case for TWST in the Stitch event. So that means it was a deliberate choice to draw them without. That's what makes me question if female mer like them would have anything of the sort, even just fat stores or what have you.

If you wanted to speculate a bit more, you could point out that Azul, like tweels, has no nipples, but he's an octomer exactly like Ursula — who is canon and has titties. In that case, it's likely either to:

1. Blend in Elder Scrolls argonian-style

2. Buoyancy specifically

3. Fat stores specifically

4. A combination of the above

It's possible none of that is right, but I can't help but wonder a LOT.

Another thing I brought up is how a lot of us tend to agree that Mer run colder body temperatures. That's when Mom brought up it's possible they run warmer core temperatures because of how cold the sea is. Not their whole bodies — just around their organs, etc. That would mean, if they were injured, they wouldn't bleed a lot very fast because their blood isn't so close to the surface. I then said it would make sense because of how easily that'd attract predators otherwise, so bleeding less would work better. By that logic, they'd still be fairly cool to the touch.

She also mentioned rubbery skin textures because fish.

I then made mention of how, canonically, mer in human forms have healthy, moisturized skin, as it's how their mucus/natural films translated into the new body. That's where Azul got the idea (and resources) for Vil's new toner. I referenced how we all joke about not telling Vil what's in it, but I suddenly remembered something.

Would Vil really be bothered? Think about what goes into many other different beauty products. This might not be too bad in comparison to some things, and he may very well be used to the idea. (Then Mom said, "I mean, you know what's in Botox?" Lmao)

Naturally moisturized skin may also be why Georgina looks rather young in comparison to some. We can still see the shadow of wrinkles, but it isn't very pronounced.

Speaking of Georgina, people keep mentioning her lack of a ring. It's possible she just doesn't like wearing rings over gloves, or it could be different cultures again. Who's to say it's a marital band that bonds her and Mr. Leech? It could even be less complicated than that, even — it could just be a different piece of jewelry altogether. For all we know, it's her earrings. We have no idea because we don't know much about mer culture as a whole, nor do we know the specifics of her relationship with her husband.

AND ANOTHER THING ABOUT MER BIOLOGY.

Have you ever tried taking a bite of plant matter and chewing it with only your sharper teeth? It's not that easy. I can say from experimentation and literal science that flat teeth are better for that sort of thing, yet the tweels never mention struggling with it? They only have sharp teeth, but we know they eat fruits and vegetables, like how Jade ate apples during the Harveston event.

That's when Mom said they might not be grinding it down, but rather cutting it into smaller pieces and swallowing those pieces whole. It could be that they typically don't struggle, as, for instance with an apple, it's the skin that really causes trouble — which could be another reason as to why Jade typically peels his. You know, even though most of the nutrients are IN THE PEEL.

Mom also pointed out that they could have a flatter bit in the back of their mouths behind their teeth they use to grind it down. We wouldn't know because we can't see that far back, haha. That falls into "do they have pharyngeal jaws" territory.

Technically, this is a non-issue, but it bothers me because they pay attention to so many other tiny details, but this, which feels obvious to me, is ignored. I just have weird focuses.

I'd love to hear y'all's thoughts on any of this, if you made it this far. Just some fun speculating and headcanoning.