#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

[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:

[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

[jaytriesstrangerthings]

Not Sick Fic

744 words of Eddie not being sick and Steve not finding him endearing.

---

“I’m not sick,” Eddie argues, punctuating his argument with an aggressive sneeze followed by harsh hacking.

“Are you holding a loogie in your mouth right now?” Steve crosses his arms and tilts his head in what the Party has taken to calling his Mom Stance (trademark pending).

In a disgusting display of defiance, Eddie swallows. “No.” 

There’s a glob of neon yellow snot dripping from Eddie’s left nostril that he drags his crusty sweatshirt sleeve across before snorting up another drip of snot coming from the right side this time. 

“You are…” Steve sighs, exasperated, “so gross.”

The furrowed brows and grumpy pout paired with Eddie’s pink nose and puffy eyes could almost be considered cute if Steve hadn’t just witnessed him swallow a loogie.

“How the hell did I fall in love with you?”

Steve knows exactly how it happened. He could write a library’s worth of books about all the things he loves about Eddie Munson. That doesn’t change the fact that Eddie absolutely refuses to admit that he’s sick and is being very gross about proving his health.

“Because I’m so totally handsome and I can do cool guitar stuff.” His voice is scratchy and nasally and Steve can tell he’s trying very hard not to sniffle or cough. “And I’m super rich on account of the cool guitar stuff.” Eddie bats his thick black eyelashes and flashes a big bright toothy smile in Steve’s direction. It’s usually quite charming but the new bead of snot dripping towards Eddie’s upper lip causes his charisma to take a hit. “Gimme a smooch.”

Eddie sniffles harshly, sucking the snot glob back into his nose. He leans in, lips puckered up and chapped from extended forced mouth breathing, eyes squeezed shut. Steve reaches out a hand to stop Eddie from falling when he continues to lean forward. 

“You’re cute,” Steve admits, pushing Eddie back to balance on his own feet, “You’re also sick.”

“‘m not,” Eddie pouts again, opening his eyes and glaring at Steve.

Yes he is. Eddie is very sick. His nose is running a marathon and Steve could hear the congestion from a mile away. He’s running a 102 degree fahrenheit fever and shivering like a chihuahua on a sugar high. His eyes are red and puffy and his eye bags have eye bags. He’s sneezing and coughing and if the way he frequently grimaces and groans is any indication he’s nauseous too. 

It’s wild to Steve, how easily Eddie tends to ignore his own health and well-being. He’s going to work himself to an early grave and take Steve with him. It’s frankly astonishing how long Eddie’s made it and Steve is half convinced that Death is simply scared of Eddie. It wouldn’t be surprising. Eddie is absolutely horrifying when he wants to be. And also sometimes when he doesn’t mean to be. 

“Just lay down in bed, Eds. You’ll get better sooner if you rest.”

“Don’t need rest, ‘m not sick.” Eddie makes a noise like he might throw up if either of them make a wrong move. He clears his throat when the feeling seemingly passes. “Gotta finish planning out the next session for when the Party comes to visit next week and then work on some acous- acousti- ACHOO!” Eddie sneezes and a snot rocket launches toward Steve in a majestic arch of green and yellow nasal mucus. Steve, luckily, manages to move out of the way and not be hit by the bio weapon. 

“Did you just say “achoo” as you sneezed?” 

“I didn’t sneeze,” Eddie says, like a lying liar who lies.

Steve looks from Eddie to the small puddle of snot on the floor. “What’s that then?”

Eddie scoffs a couple of times, searching for a reasonable answer. His brain isn’t working at full capacity, which is reasonable considering he’s very sick, despite his resolute denial. “Science project.” 

Eddie lives and breathes gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss, Steve will give him that, but Steve has mastered manipulate, mansplain, malewife. Especially that malewife bit. If the government ever comes around to letting Eddie put a ring on it Steve would make a wonderful trophy wife. 

“Yeah? What’s the hypothesis?” That’s right, Steve knows science words. He may be a certified Ken but he’s not stupid. Eddie, of course, is a Barbie, but that was never really a question.

“It’s about projectile paths and stuff.”

Steve cannot believe how endearing Eddie is even when he’s being this gross.

---

[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

[dandorime]

How do you think tk interacts with liquids?

( •̀ω •́ ) I'm so glad you asked! *science teacher mode activated*

(Please forgive me for the first half of this explanation if you're already up on your materials science.)

All matter is made up of atoms, which are just tiny particles. At any given temperature, those particles are moving (vibrating, sorta). That's what "temperature" really is: the average amount of motion energy of all the particles that make up a thing. Less motion is colder, more motion is hotter.

The three common phrases of matter, solid, liquid, and gas, are only differentiated by how the motion energy of their particles compares to the intermolecular forces that bond the atoms of a substance together.

In a gas, the particles are moving so fast that they fly apart and bounce off each other. The intermolecular forces lose; they can't hold the particles together at all.

In a solid, the particles don't have enough speed to separate or even slide past each other. The intermolecular forces win. They hold the particles together and lock them in place.

But liquids... liquids are interesting. The particles in liquids don't quite have enough force to fly apart, but the intermolecular forces can't really lock them up, so they "roll" around each other. Have you ever played with magnetic marbles? It's like that. They'll clump together, but they'll roll over each other, and the clump will change shape if you try to lift it.

SO, if we assume TK works by latching on to matter at a single point within an object, then in solids it functions by applying a force at that point and relying on the intermolecular forces connected to it to drag the rest of the object along. I assume this because it's how we move stuff in the real world. You lift the handle of the coffee mug and the intermolecular forces between the particles of ceramic bring the rest of the mug along for the ride. Any coffee contained therein also comes along.

What would that mean for liquids? Well, if you apply a force at a single point within a body of liquid and manage to accelerate that point gently enough to not overcome the intermolecular forces holding the liquid together... Then you're carrying a drop of liquid.

Now, the window of force in which to do this is narrow for most liquids, especially within an atmosphere of pressure under Earth's gravity. It'll take intense patience and control on behalf of the TK user to transport much liquid this way, unless the liquid has extreme viscosity (powerful intermolecular attraction to itself, like molasses or mucus), or unless an assisting force is applied (like a magnetic field to increase the intermolecular attraction of a ferromagnetic liquid).

TLDR, it wouldn't be efficient to move liquids with TK. Using TK on a solid object that contains the liquid would be much simpler. You could still probably flick large drops of goop at someone without a solid container, though, which sounds increasingly like a rather Phoenix thing to do the more I think about it.

(Now if carrying isn't your aim, and you're, say, trying to create a current or eddy in a body of liquid... Hmmm...)

Thank you so much for this exercise! I'm gonna use it in class. ψ(｀∇´)ψ

[bethanythebogwitch]

It's too bad Halloween was yesterday because I would have done a Wet Beast Wednesday on something creepy, like the tongue-biting isopod. It's not though, so so I'm dipping my toes into echinoderm science and talking about crinoids. While crinoids are the least famous echinoderms, being overshadowed by their relatives the starfish, sea urchins, and sea cucumbers, they are extremely well-represented in the fossil record. We know of far more extinct crinoid species than living ones.

(imag id: a crinoid attached to a rock. It is a long, slender stalk with multiple threadlike protrusions emerging from it. At the top is a crown that looks like a flower composed of feathery appendages. It is while all over)

As with all echinoderms, crinoids are bilaterally symmetrical as larvae for become radially symmetrical while adults. It is hypothesized that the ancestor of all echinoderms was a bilaterally symmetrical animal that evolved to become radially symmetrical as adults. This places echinoderms in the same clade as all other bilaterally symmetrical animals, including mollusks, arthropods, most worms, and all vertebrates. You are more closely related to a starfish than a starfish is to a jellyfish. Crinoids are one of those animals like anemones that look more like flowers than animals, which is why they're also called sea lilies. A typical juvenile crinoid consists of a stalk with a holdfast on one end and crown on the other. The stalk is segmented and made of porous calcified material called ossicles, which are attached to each other by discs. This is the part of a crinoid that fossilizes most easily and a great many crinoid fossils are only known from their stems. The holdfast is a root-like structure that attaches the crinoid to a substrate. Crinoids that attach to a hard surface have a branching holdfast to grip on while crinoids that attach to sediment have a thick, stalk-like holdfast that penetrates into the substrate like a tree's taproot. The crown is the part that looks like a flower and consists of two parts: the theca/calyx/arboral cup and the rays. The theca is shaped like a cup and has a mouth in the center. The mouth connects to a simple u-shaped gut that leads to an anus near the mouth. The rays are analogous to the arms of a starfish. All echinoderms have 5 symmetrical body segments and crinoids have five rays, though they usually branch after emerging from the theca, resulting in up to a few hundred total rays. The rays are segmented like the stalk and can curl up. Crinoids will curl up their arms and pull them in to protect them. The rays are used in feeding. Crinoids are passive suspension feeders that wait for plankton and organic particles to be carried into the rays by the current. Each ray is covered by flexible appendages called pinnules that give the rays a feathery appearance. Each pinnule is covered by tube feet that are coated in sticky mucus. When a food particle hits the tube feet, they grab on and transfer it to the center of the ray, which contains a canal called the ambulacral groove. The groove is filled with cilia that carry the food particle down to the mouth. All crinoids take this form during their juvenile phase, but only a few modern species retain it for their entire lives. Most modern species will shift into an adult form where the stalk falls off and the theca becomes free-swimming. These are often called feather stars. Both stalked crinoids and feather stars can use their rays to pull themselves along the substrate, but feather stars can also wave their rays around to swim. Swimming allows feather stars to more readily avoid danger and become more active in their attempts to catch food.

(image: a diagram of crinoid anatomy. source)

(gif id: a feather star swimming. It looks like a bunch of black-and-white striped feathers attached to a central disc. The arms are undulating, propelling the feather star through the water)

Crinoids are dioecious, meaning individuals are either male or female. In most species, the gonads are in the pinnules closest to the theca. The gonads actually swell up and cause the pinnules to burst and release the gametes. Different species have different strategies. In some, both sperm and eggs will be released into the water column. In others, only the males broadcast sperm which the females use to fertilize their eggs. The eggs are withheld by the mother, either by gluing them to her arms or incubated in sacs on the arms. The larvae, called vitellaria, are free-swimming and bilaterally symmetrical. They will swim for a few days before dropping to the substrate and attaching. They then metamorphose into juveniles.

(image: a diagram showing a crinoid progressing through multiple developmental stages from fertilized egg to larva. source)

The fossil history of crinoids dates back to the Ordovician period (485-444 million years ago), the period between the Cambrian and Silurian. While echinoderms and even stalked echinoderms existed during the Cambrian, the oldest definitive crinoid fossils are Ordovician and it's unclear which extinct group that crinoids evolved from. For over two hundred million years, crinoids were extremely diverse and were dominant sessile filter feeders, beating out anemones and corals. The mass extinction at the end of the Permian dealt a major blow to crinoids that they never recovered from, causing them to lose their dominance and become much less morphologically diverse. The Permian mass extinction is a fascinating period of history as it was the single greatest mass extinction in the history of Earth. The early Triassic saw a mass adaptation to more flexible and motile body plans in response to increased predation. It's not clear when feather stars entered the picture, though they may have come about due to predation in the Triassic. Some extinct crinoids had different survival strategies than modern ones. The genus Pentacrinites attached themselves to driftwood and floated through the open ocean. They would have been like floating islands of diversity moving through the oceans with lots of other animals following for food and shelter. A fact that gets passed around a lot is that the largest fossil crinoid ever found (Taxocrinus saratogensis) was 40 meters (130 ft) long. That isn't true and seems to stem from a misprint. It was actually 40 ft (12.2 m) long, which is still fucking enormous. Crinoids today don't get anywhere near as large as extinct ones could. Fossil crinoids measuring many meters in stem length are well documented while ones alive today never even reach a meter long. Crinoid fossils are extremely common and can be used to provide relative dates to nearby fossils. In some places, enough crinoid parts fossilized near each other that they became clustered together in sedimentary rocks called encrinites.

(image id: a fossil imprint of many crinoids attached to a piece of driftwood. The imprints ore in a flat, tan rock. The driftwood imprint looks like a long, dark blob. The crinoids have long, curved, and overlapping stems and fan-like crowns at the top. Fossil found at the Houston Museum of Natural Science)

[wrishwrosh]

it’s time for DAMP BOOKS DECEMBER

here’s a rec list of cold wet seasonal reads: atmospheric books about offputting people, featuring mud, bog, spit, blood, wine, fog, ash, etc.

let’s get clammy with it. additional damp recs appreciated.

o caledonia by elspeth barker

a weird little girl in midcentury scotland. bonus wets: mushroom spores, slush, jam

the western wind by samantha harvey

a medieval murder mystery. bonus wets: goose grease, floodwater, the blood of christ

eileen by ottessa mosfegh

a juvenile prison administrator’s quarter life crisis. bonus wets: vomit, stale wine, dirty snow

the pull of the stars by emma donoghue

a couple days in a spanish flu clinic/maternity ward in dublin. bonus wets: amniotic fluid, mucus, soggy newspaper

a mercy by toni morrison

a household dissolving in seventeenth century new york. bonus wets: pox, mist, molasses

wolf hall by hilary mantel

a bureaucrat in the court of henry viii. bonus wets: ink, fever sweat, the thames

ghost wall by sarah moss

a camping trip with stone age reenactors. bonus wets: damson juice, bog bodies, bramble

the man who shot out my eye is dead by chanelle benz

a short story collection. bonus wets: brain matter, milk, the blood of christ again

never let me go by kazuo ishiguro

a dystopian art school for mysterious children. bonus wets: rain, marshland, tears

the name of the rose by umberto eco

a monastic murder mystery and also a primer on every theological debate that ever happened in 14th century europe. bonus wets: pig’s blood, bathwater, ink

wuthering heights by emily brontë

a case study in isolation, incest, and insanity, and the novel that inspired the whole list. bonus wets: dog saliva, mist, assorted consanguineous fluids

close range by annie proulx

a collection of wyoming stories. bonus wets: spit, semen, cold coffee

the giant, o’brien by hilary mantel

a giant irish storyteller visits london and loses his body to science. bonus wets: gin, pus, graveyard mud

study for obedience by sarah bernstein

a stifled woman in her family’s homeland. bonus wets: potato mold, creekwater, milk

giovanni’s room by james baldwin

an american in paris makes a mess. bonus wets: cognac, condensation, the seine

moby dick by herman melville

a man, another man, a third man, and a whale. bonus wets: sperm, fish chowder, sperm (other one)

the lottery and other stories by shirley jackson

a collection of unsettling stories about polite people. bonus wets: hose water, flop sweat, furniture polish