#Underwater World Price

[minisiam]

Discover the Wonders of Underwater World Pattaya: A Must-Visit Aquarium

For visitors seeking an extraordinary encounter with marine life in Thailand, Underwater World Pattaya offers a captivating experience like no other. Located in the vibrant coastal city of Pattaya, this expansive aquarium showcases a dazzling array of marine species and immersive underwater exhibits, making it one of the top Pattaya attractions for tourists of all ages. In this guide, we’ll walk you through everything you need to know to plan your visit—from Underwater World price details to its location and timing—to ensure you make the most of your time in this stunning Pattaya aquarium.a

Location and Address of Underwater World Pattaya

Underwater World Pattaya is conveniently located in southern Pattaya, making it easily accessible for both local and international visitors. Its full address is:

Underwater World Pattaya, 22/22 Moo 11, Sukhumvit Road, Nongprue, Banglamung, Pattaya City, Chonburi, Thailand.

Underwater World Highlights and Marine Life Exhibits

The aquarium is renowned for its incredible marine life displays and offers a variety of zones dedicated to different underwater habitats. The highlights include:

Touch Pool: This interactive area lets visitors get up close with starfish, sea cucumbers, and other fascinating creatures.

Coral Reef Zone: Home to colorful reef fish and corals, this section mimics the vibrant marine environment found in Thailand’s oceans.

Open Ocean Zone: Walk through a 100-meter-long tunnel with a panoramic view of rays, sharks, and more.

Jellyfish Zone: A mesmerizing experience featuring a range of jellyfish that glow beautifully under colored lighting.

Feeding Shows: Watch divers feed the fish and rays as part of the scheduled daily feedings, making for an unforgettable experience.

These Underwater World highlights make the aquarium a favorite among Thai tourism spots, especially for families and marine life enthusiasts.

Underwater World Pattaya Timings

To make the most of your visit, it’s essential to know the Underwater World timing. The aquarium is open daily, so you can plan a visit at your convenience.

Opening Hours: 9:00 AM to 6:00 PM

Last Entry: 5:30 PM

These hours give you plenty of time to explore each exhibit, attend feeding shows, and capture memories in this stunning Pattaya aquarium.

Underwater World Pattaya Ticket Information

When it comes to Underwater World tickets, there are multiple options available to suit different budgets and preferences. The Underwater World entrance ticket includes access to all main exhibits, and prices vary for adults and children.

Underwater World Price for Adults: Approx. 500 THE

Underwater World Rate for Children: Approx. 300 THB (rates may vary for locals and tourists)

For a seamless experience, it’s recommended to book Underwater World tickets in advance. Various online platforms offer Underwater World bookings, often with discounts. You can check these out on the official website or through trusted travel sites specializing in Thai tourism.

How to Book Underwater World Pattaya Tickets

Booking Underwater World tickets is simple, whether through the aquarium’s official website or via online travel agencies that offer the best Pattaya tour packages. Many platforms provide exclusive deals, so be sure to compare rates before purchasing. Booking in advance is especially helpful during peak tourist seasons, as it allows you to avoid long lines and ensure a stress-free visit.

Reviews and Visitor Experience

Underwater World reviews from past visitors are overwhelmingly positive, highlighting the engaging displays and well-maintained facilities. Families, in particular, appreciate the educational value of the exhibits, while solo travelers and couples find it a relaxing break from Pattaya’s bustling beaches. The aquarium’s interactive zones, like the Touch Pool, receive special mentions for their hands-on approach to marine life education.

For tourists looking for Pattaya attractions that combine fun and learning, Underwater World Pattaya is highly recommended. It’s also a popular stop on many best Pattaya tours that include a variety of local attractions.

Tips for Visiting Underwater World Pattaya

To maximize your experience, here are a few practical tips:

Plan Your Visit: Aim to arrive in the morning to avoid crowds and catch the early feeding shows.

Capture Memories: Photography is allowed, so bring your camera to snap shots of the vibrant marine life.

Check Online Rates: As mentioned, booking can offer discounts. Look for bundled deals that include other Pattaya attractions.

Explore Nearby: After visiting the aquarium, you can explore nearby Pattaya attractions or enjoy the city’s beaches and local markets.

Why Visit Underwater World Pattaya?

For those curious about Thailand’s rich marine ecosystem, Underwater World Pattaya is a unique experience that combines entertainment, education, and conservation. The aquarium’s immersive design and impressive variety of marine species offer a glimpse into the wonders of the underwater world, sparking a sense of wonder and respect for ocean life.

Whether you’re traveling with family, friends, or solo, Underwater World Pattaya promises an enriching day out, filled with excitement, learning, and moments of awe. By including it in your itinerary, you’ll discover why it ranks among the best Pattaya tours and why Thai tourism encourages visitors to dive into this unforgettable aquatic adventure.

[etgroupil]

اكتشف عالم البحث عن الكنوز بتقنية لا مثيل لها مع جهاز "جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس"، الذي يتمتع بقدرة عميقة على الكشف تصل إلى 2 متر. يتيح لك هذا الجهاز عزل الأهداف المعدنية بكفاءة عالية، بفضل ميزة عزل الحديد التي تمكنك من التحكم في الأصوات التي تسمعها، مما يقلل من الإزعاج الناتج عن الأهداف غير المرغوب فيها. يتميز Apex بثمانية تعديلات لسمك المعدن، مما يجعله الأكثر مرونة في نطاقه السعري. سواء كنت تبحث عن العملات، أو تغوص في الآثار تحت الماء، أو تنقب في الأماكن البحرية، فإن تقنية Multi-Flex Multi-Frequency تجعل من Apex الخيار الأمثل لجميع أنشطة البحث والاستكشاف.

اكتشف المزيد حول جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس وتعمق في عالم الاستكشاف تحت الأرض.

🌐 رابط موقعنا في ألمانيا:

الواتساب:

رابط موقعنا على الخريطة:

#جاريت #كشف_المعادن #تكنولوجيا_جاريت #استكشاف #بحث_عن_الكنوز #غوص #تنقيب #آثار

[etgroupps]

اكتشف عالم البحث عن الكنوز بتقنية لا مثيل لها مع جهاز "جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس"، الذي يتمتع بقدرة عميقة على الكشف تصل إلى 2 متر. يتيح لك هذا الجهاز عزل الأهداف المعدنية بكفاءة عالية، بفضل ميزة عزل الحديد التي تمكنك من التحكم في الأصوات التي تسمعها، مما يقلل من الإزعاج الناتج عن الأهداف غير المرغوب فيها. يتميز Apex بثمانية تعديلات لسمك المعدن، مما يجعله الأكثر مرونة في نطاقه السعري. سواء كنت تبحث عن العملات، أو تغوص في الآثار تحت الماء، أو تنقب في الأماكن البحرية، فإن تقنية Multi-Flex Multi-Frequency تجعل من Apex الخيار الأمثل لجميع أنشطة البحث والاستكشاف.

اكتشف المزيد حول جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس وتعمق في عالم الاستكشاف تحت الأرض.

🌐 رابط موقعنا في ألمانيا:

الواتساب:

رابط م��قعنا على الخريطة:

#جاريت #كشف_المعادن #تكنولوجيا_جاريت #استكشاف #بحث_عن_الكنوز #غوص #تنقيب #آثار

[etgrouply]

اكتشف عالم البحث عن الكنوز بتقنية لا مثيل لها مع جهاز "جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس"، الذي يتمتع بقدرة عميقة على الكشف تصل إلى 2 متر. يتيح لك هذا الجهاز عزل الأهداف المعدنية بكفاءة عالية، بفضل ميزة عزل الحديد التي تمكنك من التحكم في الأصوات التي تسمعها، مما يقلل من الإزعاج الناتج عن الأهداف غير المرغوب فيها. يتميز Apex بثمانية تعديلات لسمك المعدن، مما يجعله الأكثر مرونة في نطاقه السعري. سواء كنت تبحث عن العملات، أو تغوص في الآثار تحت الماء، أو تنقب في الأماكن البحرية، فإن تقنية Multi-Flex Multi-Frequency تجعل من Apex الخيار الأمثل لجميع أنشطة البحث والاستكشاف.

اكتشف المزيد حول جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس وتعمق في عالم الاستكشاف تحت الأرض.

🌐 رابط موقعنا في ألمانيا:

الواتساب:

رابط موقعنا على الخريطة:

#جاريت #كشف_المعادن #تكنولوجيا_جاريت #استكشاف #بحث_عن_الكنوز #غوص #تنقيب #آثار

[etgroupsa]

اكتشف عالم البحث عن الكنوز بتقنية لا مثيل لها مع جهاز "جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس"، الذي يتمتع بقدرة عميقة على الكشف تصل إلى 2 متر. يتيح لك هذا الجهاز عزل الأهداف المعدنية بكفاءة عالية، بفضل ميزة عزل الحديد التي تمكنك من التحكم في الأصوات التي تسمعها، مما يقلل من الإزعاج الناتج عن الأهداف غير المرغوب فيها. يتميز Apex بثمانية تعديلات لسمك المعدن، مما يجعله الأكثر مرونة في نطاقه السعري. سواء كنت تبحث عن العملات، أو تغوص في الآثار تحت الماء، أو تنقب في الأماكن البحرية، فإن تقنية Multi-Flex Multi-Frequency تجعل من Apex الخيار الأمثل لجميع أنشطة البحث والاستكشاف.

اكتشف المزيد حول جاريت اي اس ايي ابيكس وتعمق في عالم الاستكشاف تحت الأرض.

🌐 رابط موقعنا في ألمانيا:

الواتساب:

رابط موقعنا على الخريطة:

#جاريت #كشف_المعادن #تكنولوجيا_جاريت #استكشاف #بحث_عن_الكنوز #غوص #تنقيب #آثار

[secretmellowblog]

On the subject of the Titanic ‘submersible’ that was lost in the deep with all its wealthy tourists— it’s so insane/eerie in hindsight to read this article from the Smithsonian that interviews the CEO Stockton Rush long before the disaster.

Despite the Smithsonian supposedly being an organization that cares about science and truth, and the fact that there were SO MANY obvious red flags from the beginning and so many people criticizing the company…..the article is a puff piece uncritically glorifying the CEO’s obviously terrible submersible project. It compares him in glowing terms to Elon Musk. It is an article about how private ventures like those of Stockton Rush and Elon Musk can and should be the future of the world.

We’ve obviously learned now that there were whistleblowers at the company who were warning for a long time that Stockton Rush’s submersible was unsafe— only to be fired and then sued. It makes sense the submersible was so unsafe, because the CEO in this interview is open about how he has no background in underwater engineering and is annoyed by quote “regulations that needlessly prioritize passenger safety.”

Soon after, the private [submersible] market died too, Rush found, for two reasons that were “understandable but illogical.” First, subs gained a reputation for danger. Working on offshore rigs in harsh locations like the North Sea, saturation divers, who breathe gas mixtures to avoid diving sicknesses, would be taken in subs to work at great depths. It was the world’s most perilous job, with frequent fatalities. (“It wasn’t the sub’s fault,” says Rush.) To save lives, the industries moved toward using underwater robots to perform the same work.

Second, tourist subs, which could once be skippered by anyone with a U.S. Coast Guard captain’s license, were regulated by the Passenger Vessel Safety Act of 1993, which imposed rigorous new manufacturing and inspection requirements and prohibited dives below 150 feet. The law was well-meaning, Rush says, but he believes it needlessly prioritized passenger safety over commercial innovation (a position a less adventurous submariner might find open to debate). “There hasn’t been an injury in the commercial sub industry in over 35 years. It’s obscenely safe, because they have all these regulations. But it also hasn’t innovated or grown—because they have all these regulations.”

The fact that Stockton Rush (who was piloting the submarine when the disaster happened) is on record complaining about the evils of regulations that prioritize people’s safety, and the Smithsonian uncritically regurgitated that rhetoric in their glowing puff piece about how rich tycoons like Elon Musk and Stockton Rush are going to save the world is just…..in hindsight of how everything ended it’s just so much horrible black comedy? It’s like a satire about the dangers of uncritically worshipping the rich.

It is mentioned in the article that Rush chose to make his submersible in a different shape, and with a different (cheaper) material than is usually used for submersibles. The article frames this as a result of daring innovation, and not of negligence/ignorance. This passage in particular, which in context is supposed to portray Rush’s critics as joyless naysayers who were proven wrong by the noble tycoon, is pretty foreboding in hindsight:

Rush planned to pilot the sub himself, which critics said was an unnecessary risk: Under pressure, the experimental carbon fiber hull might, in the jargon of the sub world, “collapse catastrophically.”

And then!!

The exact problem that happened to Titan this weekend, happened on Titan’s very first test voyage to the Titanic! The experimental carbon fiber hull had an issue and it caused communications to break down!

The dive was going according to plan until about 10,000 feet, when the descent unexpectedly halted, possibly, Rush says, because the density of the salt water added extra buoyancy to the carbon fiber hull. He now used thrusters to drive Titan deeper, which interfered with the communications system, and he lost contact with the support crew. He recalls the next hour in hallucinogenic terms. “It was like being on the Starship Enterprise,” he says. “There were these particles going by, like stars. Every so often a jellyfish would go whipping by. It was the childhood dream.”

Both Rush and the article writer treat this as a fun quirky story, instead of a serious safety failure and red flag with his experimental macgyvered regulation-flaunting submersible.

Other highlights from the article include:

Stockton rush saying that if 3/4 of the planet is water, why haven’t we monetized it?

Stockton saying we will “colonize the ocean long before we colonize space”

Lots of weird pro colonialism stuff in general??? This article loves colonialism and thinks it’s cool

Rush saying he plans for this to eventually help find more underwater resources for the US to exploit and profit from

Elon musk comparisons. The article writer does not mention that Elon Musk’s rockets explode and therefore it would be a bad idea to get in one of them, because that would imply it’s a bad idea to get into the submersible

Stockton rush seeing himself as Captain Kirk

The article writer comparing the tourists who plan to join Rush to Englishmen who went on colonialist journeys to Africa as if that’s like, a good thing. So much pro colonialism stuff in this article

So many sentences about Stockton Rush being handsome when he literally just looks like some guy

The article beginning with an editor’s note from years later disclaiming that the extraordinary submersible they’re advertising in this article is uh. It’s now uhhhh

But yeah it really does just bring home how so many organizations that supposedly care about scientific truth or journalistic integrity are willing to uncritically platform propaganda for wealthy CEOS. It’s frustrating how easily people fall for the fake myths that careless wealthy people invent for themselves, and even more frustrating that supposedly respectable institutions will platform irresponsible lies that end up getting people killed.

Rush is such an obvious and simple example of this, and his negligence is “only” killing five people including himself. But to me it feels like a cautionary tale to bear in mind when it comes to uncritical puff piece media coverage of similar “daring tycoon innovations” by people like Bezos or Musk.

[peachesofteal]

Simple Math / Part Two

Simple Math masterlist

Ghost/Soap/female reader 3.4k words - AO3 Warnings-tags: 18+ no smut but this fic contains mature themes. Medical inaccuracies, hospitals, medical procedures, medications, blood and injury, nurse!reader, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, feelings of fear, anxiety. Panic attack. Implied past abuse. Implied stalking. Deep breath.

There is blood in Johnny's eyes.

He comes to with a start, Price’s voice barking out an order, pressure and flame and blood all washing over him, pain erupting across every receptor in his brain like he’s being shredded alive. 

“Bloody hell, hold him steady.” 

It’s still Price, roaring over the chop-chop-chop of the helicopter blades, bloodied hands trying to keep pressure on the hole in his stomach, his side. 

It burns. Everything burns, his body feels like it’s on fire, bones turning to ash inside his skin, chest being torn apart by some invisible force. He can’t get enough air. There is something shoved inside his ribs, something heavy that’s weighing his lungs down, keeping him underwater, cinderblocks tied to his feet.

He tries to move, but he can’t. 

Gaz is strapping him down to a stretcher, he thinks, and when he ratchets a strap across his legs, Johnny screams in agony. 

“’m sorry mate, I’m sorry.” 

Where is Simon? There are faces here, but none of them are the one he needs. His LT. “W-where is Si?” He slurs, and Price frowns, leaning back over his face, calling his name. 

“Johnny, Johnny. Hold still. You’re on a medevac. We’re lifting you to base.” 

“Si-“ 

“Simon isn’t here, remember? Johnny, oi. Keep your eyes open, Sergeant.” Remember? Does he remember? He tries. Tries to place his partner’s face amongst the rubble, the blast, the screaming. 

Where is Simon?

Your coffee maker sputters to life in the silence of your apartment, churning out the dark, thick, life-giving liquid, and you can’t beat back the glare that fixes your face upwards towards your neighbors, the ones who are running a marathon in their apartment at three in the afternoon.

Seriously. Is there a herd of elephants up there? 

You can’t be too disappointed in them, you know. It is normal working hours. Normal daytime hours. You don’t expect your neighbors to accommodate or understand your schedule. Still, it would be nice if they were just a bit more considerate. 

It’s not the end of the world, regardless. You're up now, already started your day, crawled out of bed and opened the blackout curtains to stand in the afternoon sunlight that streams through your studio apartment. You flick open your laptop as sip your morning coffee, logging into your banking app with quick efficiency, eyes roving over lists of numbers, figures adding and subtracting in your head. You’re so close to being able to move forward with the plan, the light at the end of the tunnel growing stronger and stronger, glowing bright with hope, something that once felt so impossible, so far away. You're going to make it. 

It’s a hike to the train.

You’re fortunate that you only have to take one, no longer having to change once, or twice, in the middle of your commute like you used to, but now you’re walking at least twelve blocks to get there, each way.

It makes you feel very exposed.

You keep your headphones in, hood of your jacket over your head, and move within throngs of people during the trek, keeping your eyes focused on the sidewalk ahead, posture tilted just enough that you can watch the ground but still see in your peripheral. You don’t relax until you make it onto the platform, and even then, your head is on a swivel as you wait for the train to arrive, and you can melt into the mix of others. Seen, but not noticed. 

Old habits die hard. 

You swipe your card to proceed through the turnstile, cool metal sliding against your hands when you push forward onto the platform, settling against a pylon as you wait, flicking through the news with half interest.

The hair on the back of your neck rises.

Someone is watching you. 

Your skin goes cold, ice beneath your jacket, and your lungs stutter with short breaths. Logically, you know you’re wrong. The faces that wait alongside you are not focused on anything but themselves, too busy staring at their own devices, tablets, readers, phones. A woman fidgets with a stroller, a man wearing headphones spits some corporate nonsense out loud, obnoxiously. You’ve already looked them over, too many times. He’s not here.

You lean against the tile, rocking your back into the grimy wall, fingers clutching against the edge of your phone. He’s not here. You’re safe. The dark of the tunnel mocks you, laughs with his voice, its circular opening growing teeth like his, ready to devour you, drag you back to hell, swallow you whole and keep you there.

He's not here. You’re safe. He doesn’t know where you are. Deep breath. 

You breathe the words deep, counting the time of your inhales and exhales until the brakes of the train are squeaking and squealing to a stop, doors opening with a hiss. Everyone moves in tandem, an amoeba inching towards the same goal, get off, get on, and you go with it, pressing inside and shuffling towards the back, angling your body outwards, molded into a corner so tight your shoulders touch the walls of the train.

Deep breath. 

“Hey, you’re early!” The nurse you’re relieving smiles brightly at you, blonde hair pulled high in a scrunchie, stickers all over her badge and ID.

“Yeah, wanted to get caught up on some admin stuff but I’ve got it, if you want to…” you motion with your head, the universal signal of ‘if you want to leave’ without saying it out loud, lest you jinx it, and the place goes to chaos in the next five minutes. She nods eagerly, launching into a run-down of your beds, who’s stable, who’s sedated, who’s still on a vent. “-and two sixty-eight is about to come down from the PACU.” Your stomach clenches with anxiety, and you check your watch.

“They took him when I left this morning…”

“Yeah, I guess there was a complication. Had to re-open his chest, put in a new tube. Poor guy, he’s battered all to shit. Did you see the scans of his femur? It’s literally in pieces.” She sighs. “His partner is in the surgical waiting room, told him the next shift nurse would come find him when he could come back to the room.” Your anxiety heightens, and an alarm bell goes off in the back of your mind as you think about Simon, pacing back and forth upstairs, and Johnny, alone in the PACU, probably coming out sedation, terrified. What is wrong with you? 

“I hear those guys are like black ops or something.” Nia, the nurse who’s worked the last three rotations with you, comments over your shoulder as she drops her bag in the pit. You raise an eyebrow skeptically. Black ops? You shiver. “They air-lifted him from a military base that’s doesn’t even exist on a map. Cass and I checked.”

“Really?” The dayshifter perks up, interested, and you hold your hands out in caution.

“Okay, okay. Let’s not speculate.” You tap your number into the tablet, reading through charts and noting updates. A little green circle with an arrow through it blinks next to Johnny’s, signifying that he’s about to be moved. “Besides, he’s been through hell. Clearly. Let’s have a little, ya know. Respect?” They all cluck, rolling their eyes and groaning, but they shut up, and Nia gives you a little grin. You might not be the charge nurse, but you were the perma-night shifter on this floor, and the one with the most seniority in this moment. 

“Alright, well. You got this?” Dayshift asks, and you wave her off.

“Goodnight.”

“You’re the best. Bye ladies!”

Simon is easy to find. He’s wearing the exact same clothes from yesterday, black cloth mask still covering half his face, hoodie pulled up over his head. He looks less exhausted, but no less anxious, dark circles still present under his eyes, body language tense. He looks… scared.

He spots you just as easily, shooting to his feet when he sees you coming, hands clenched together in anticipation, and you motion to the chair, placing yourself next to him, turning slightly to ensure you’re giving him your undivided attention.

He shifts in the seat, legs spreading out against the stiff frame, and his knee bumps yours, warmth radiating beneath denim bleeding into your scrubs. If he notices or cares about the contact, he doesn't say anything, only blinks at you in anticipation. His head tilts before you start speaking, and your skin heats when you realize he’s looking you over, eyes tracing you from head to toe before pinning you in place with a focused scrutiny.

“Has anyone come to speak with you?” You ask, silently hoping that the surgeon actually did the last part of his job, and didn’t neglect the family member in waiting room, the one who’s holding their breath as every second ticks by.

Simon nods. “They said there was a complication with his lungs?”

“They had to plate his ribs. It will give the bleed in his chest a better chance at healing, help keep him stable. They also replaced his chest tube.” His brow furrows, and you pause. Maybe visualization will help. “Do you want to see?” You tap on the tablet, bringing up Johnny’s last imaging, scrolling through the pictures to show Simon what it looks like, pointing out the before and after CT of his chest, explaining the white vs grey spaces on the image. Simon studies it, taking the tablet in his hand, fingers tracing over the screen reverently, carefully, like he's touching Johnny himself. An ocean’s worth of emotions reflects in his gaze, despair, sadness, grief- all sitting just on the edge, nearly ready to spill over. Your heart skips a beat.

“Can I see him?”

“He’s coming down from the post-surgery unit now. I’ll have to get him resettled in his room, but I promise as soon as I can, I’ll come get you.” He twitches in the chair, rubbing the back of his neck before he huffs out something that sounds like ‘okay’, and you give him one more small smile with your ‘see you soon’.

Johnny is conscious when he comes up from the PACU, barely. His vitals look good, temperature, blood pressure, heart rate all in target ranges, and he’s due for another round of pain medication.

"Hey, Johnny." You smile down at him, sliding the lock on his bed in place and reattaching his leads carefully, gentle enough so you don't jostle him too much. 

"Hi, pretty girl." He slurs, and you chuckle, instinctively rolling your eyes before patting his good hand. 

“Came out of sedation fine, but he’s been a bit emotional.” The PACU nurse warns you, eyes soft with sympathy when she glances at him in the bed. “He’s asking for his partner, I think. Simon?”

“Yeah. I’ll take care of it.” You scan the post op notes, hitting all the important things, logging his last vitals check so you can administer his meds. The incision in his chest has been reopened, and then closed, and his lower body is completely immobilized in the bed, his hip pinned, femur delicately pieced back together with a plethora of plates and screws, so many you think it’s probably more metal than bone now. “How are you feeling?" You ask, heart tugging a bit at the hopelessness in his eyes. “Ready to get some more sleep?” He groans a response, words jumbled together and cracking into a sob that has tears trickling down his cheeks.

“Si..”

“He’s not back yet.” You try to explain gently, grabbing an extra blanket to put over the scaffolding around his leg. “Once I get you settled, we’ll bring him up, okay?”

“H-hurts.” He cries, vibrant blue eyes finding yours, scared, and desperate. “It h-hurts.” He’s openly crying now, shoulders starting to shake, and the monitor chimes at you, registering an increase in heart rate and blood pressure.

“I know. I know it does.” You clean his port, tracking the uptick in numbers on the screen. “Hey, hey. Shhh, it’s okay.” You try to calm him as you flush the line, pushing the saline from the side of the bed. “You’re alright. We’re almost,” You administer the medication easily, counting in your head, replacing it with another saline before reattaching his fluids line, all of the motions so second nature that it allows you keep your focus on him. “there.”

You expect him to calm down. Most patients do, but his heart rate continues to tick upwards, and his respirations don’t decrease, lungs heaving against the fresh sutures in his chest. His hand, the good one, skates across your elbow and down your forearm to grab a hold of you, fingers gripped onto yours tightly, like he’s afraid you might let go.

“It’s alright, Johnny. You’re okay.” His eyes don’t leave your face, his own jaw slack, pain meds coursing through his system. He's frightened, big blue eyes wide and anxious, and you squeeze his hand, stroking your thumb across his knuckles. “Deep breath.” You see patients upset, in pain, all the time. It’s an everyday part of your job. Even the hand holding is a necessary, frequent part of your profession.

But with Johnny, something feels different.

“It’s okay. You’re okay, just try to relax. Take some long breaths- good. That’s good.” You soothe him, rubbing soft touches into his skin. His head is turned to where you’re standing next to the bed, chest still heaving, and he winces with each exhale. “It’s just the last of the sedation, it can make you a little out of sorts. The pain meds are going to kick in real soon.” You reach over, and press the call button, twice. You can feel the pressure, the burn of his attention, his unwillingness to look away from you, and you hum out the softest words you can find, encouraging him to take calm, deep breaths. 

When Nia appears, she frowns. “Everything alright?”

“Hey, yes. Could you do us a favor and go up to the surgical waiting room? Johnny’s partner Simon, is waiting to be told he can come down.” She looks from you to him, reading the situation just as you would if the roles were reversed.

“Got it.” She makes her exit, fast, and Johnny gulps, still staring up at you with bright, wet, blue eyes.

“See? She’s going to get him. Everything’s alright.” He nods, barely, starting to succumb to the medication, and you exhale, letting out some of the tension from the last few minutes.

Simon comes through the door in a whirlwind, and you immediately raise your free hand, palm out, to slow his hurried panic.

“He’s okay.” You point to where Johnny is still clutching onto you. “He was still in a fair amount of pain when he came down, and coming out of sedation can be disorientating. I think he panicked a little when he realized you weren’t here.” He nods silently, taking his place bedside, towering over both you and Johnny, leaning past you to brush his lips against Johnny's forehead in a sweet, smooth kiss. 

"I'm here, sweet boy." He murmurs, voice so low you barely catch it. You step back, pulling your grasp from Johnny's, but he tightens his fingers, grip stronger than you anticipated, and you stop mid step, glancing to his partner. “I got him.” Simon reaches for where the two of you are connected, sliding his own hand overtop yours, replacing the contact before holding Johnny's hand whole. He’s so careful, lowering himself into the chair, carefully holding onto Johnny until he’s seated, bringing his palm to his mask covered lips. “I’ve got you.”

“Si.”

“I’m here Johnny. Rest.”

“Ye weren’t there.” He croaks, and Simon’s eyes shutter with a long inhale.

“I know.”

“Ah needed-“ He loses the words, dazed in a swirl of semi-consciousness. “was scared.” Simon strokes some of the hair that’s in disarray away from his forehead, smoothing his thumb back and forth above his eyebrow.

“Shhh, everything’s alright now. I’m here.”

The chair in supply closet 2b knows you well. It’s an old thing, something pulled from a patient room once it was deemed too squeaky, and too uncomfortable, shoved in here to be discarded at some point in the future.

That was months ago.

Now, it sits in a dark little corner, plastic packages of disposable PPE and gowns littered on top of it in a heap, excess supply with no place to live. Everyone takes turns in it, shifting whatever it happens to be holding that day onto the ground and settling in for what some could call a break, brief moments that could last seconds or minutes, quick opportunities to get off your feet and most importantly, not have to speak or be spoken to, for an indeterminate amount of time.

This is usually where you hide when you need a second. When there’s a lull, and the pit is full of nurses, techs, students or whoever else may have downtime, talking and laughing together, building relationships, getting to know one another. Making friends. It's a small luxury at work, to have that time, those friendships. 

Luxuries someone who wants to be seen, but not noticed, not known, does not have.

You close your eyes, head tipped back against the chair.

It’s okay to be alone. You can do this. Deep breath. 

Your mind floats to two sixty-eight, to Simon and Johnny. What is it like, to be loved like that? To be so fiercely cared for? Johnny’s teary, blue eyes and Simon’s soft, loving regard for him makes your stomach flip. You didn’t even know love like that was real. The only taste of love you’ve ever had left ash in your mouth, poison in your veins, and deep, deep scars across your body and soul that you’ll never be free of.

Deep breath. 

Your work phone and the tablet both start to beep, a shrill noise that makes you wince, muscle memory of what it indicates making you leap from the chair.

The screen shows a red flashing symbol next to room two sixty-eight.

Johnny.

“He’s tachycardic.” You tell the tech who’s fumbling with the phone, firing off a rapid text message to the on-call for this floor. You hold Johnny’s forehead still with the heel of your hand, using a finger to flick open his eyelids one by one, flashing the pen light across his pupils. “Pupils are dilated, BP is elevated- no call him- call him right now. Do what I said, I don’t care what he told you.” You bark, glancing up at where Simon is frozen across the bed from you, grip so tight against the rail that you think it might break.

“Simon-“ He cuts you off, but you’re half paying attention to him, too busy checking the site of Johnny’s chest tube, and then moving onto the dressing on his lower abdomen, ensuring it doesn’t feel scalding to the touch.

“He was fine. He was just… sleepin' and then-“ You move around the bed, pulling the oxygen tube longer, replacing the cannula with a mask.  

“Simon, I need you to step out.” You press two buttons on the machine, ensuring it’s on high flow, door sliding open with Nia’s arrival.

“No.” His refusal is steadfast.

“Simon, hey.” He lurches closer to Johnny, and on instinct, you reach out and grab his forearm, stopping him in his tracks. His eyes are wild, bleak with anguish, and his chest heaves heavily, panic radiating from his massive form. “Listen to me, listen. I’m here. I’ve got him, alright? But there are about to be five other people in this room, and we can’t work if you’re in the way.” You speak firmly, clearly, trying to get your point across as the door opens again, and the on-call attending is standing on the other side. Simon glances from him, back to you, and you nod reassuringly, swallowing the lump in your throat that forms when he latches onto your own arm, squeezing it tight. “He’s in good hands.” You tell him, nodding to the tech that’s waiting to usher him towards the hallway. 

He keeps his eyes trained on Johnny, before they flick over to where you’re lowering the bed completely flat, free hand on his bicep, thumb rubbing a small semi-circle into his skin, just like you watched Simon do last night, and earlier today. He swallows, endless depths of desperation welling in his eyes, and you take a deep breath, imbuing your voice with all the strength you have.

“I’ve got him. I promise.”

[alwaysoutofpaper]

the livestock of haek (top) and haen'oi (bottom), found in and around the landmass/island of Tunib'sau

wanted to draw up some creatures because I haven't created much hae planet fauna. ramblings below the cut, but it's a lot. all you really need to know is all of these animals can be eaten :)

uli'ni are highly social, omnivorous pack hunters (or ambush predators in small numbers), used for pest control by haek. a village can have a near 1:3 ratio of uli'ni to haek, with the pack usually belonging to a single family, or being cared for communally in some cases. bright, soft coats are sought after by haek wanting a pet. there has been a trend of uli'ni being imported into the city as an exotic pet - mainland uli'ni are a lot nastier.

tade are like truffle pigs. they can sniff out root plants from under dirt and snow, so they are critical for farmers when poor weather conditions would normally make harvests miserable. they are usually eaten along with the plants they help harvest. their "wool" is used for bed, bedding, clothes, and other textile things that are otherwise difficult to create with limited fibers. most shed their coats seasonally, but a mainland variety is bred to grow them continuously like sheep.

rudon are the fastest growing, hardest to handle source of protein a haek could ask for. they burrow under the snow, and further into the ground when it isn't covered. raising them is more difficult than hunting them in the wild, but some haek still try, creating stone-lined pits they will fill with dirt to keep rudon contained. they can wreak havoc on any plantlife if left unchecked, so they are rarely raised in the same village as a root plant farm. their fatty tails are used for tallow, which can be sold at high prices or traded for goods if transportation is possible and a surplus is available.

ta'fer is essentially a much meaner lobster. they can pinch, bite, and smack someone around with their tail. they are aggressive to anything that isn't a ta'fer, and evasive when they feel threatened, which makes them difficult to handle without immense caution. the meat is worth it to most haen'oi, though, and just the act of raising them garners a whole lot of respect.

bibbits are some of the most abundant fish (calling them that cus they look like that) in the oceans, found all over the world with different variations. the bibbits found around Tunib'sau are very boney, but those bones are soft and thin, not removed unless necessary (like for baby haek, it could be a choking hazard - baby haen-oi don't have this problem). bibbits are usually smoked and eaten whole for haek, or eaten raw in the water by haen-oi. they are very flavorful, but don't keep well.

le'bul, or the "walking jewel", is a six-limbed nautilus-like critter. they have tentacle-lined arms like octopus, but lack the chromatophores of the same species. they instead rely on their shells for defense and camouflage, evolved to mimic different types of coral, depending on the region they're in. the le'bul shown above grows a shell resembling coral found almost exclusively in underwater caves. tracking them down is a difficult task, but they can be lured out with bibbits, so actually catching them is pretty simple. their shells are often used as decoration or storage depending mostly on the condition of it after the rest of the body is removed.

lastly, corin is basically just a really big tilapia. high in protein, low in fat. their meat is white and not the most flavorful, but it keeps well and their bones are good for making broth. there are much better, tastier fish out there, but these are the easiest for haen'oi to herd, hunt and trade, so it is the most popular option. they're the closest thing to a domestic fish you can get in those waters. some even let you pet them :)

[auspicioustidings]

Mermen au with mer TF141 and researcher reader trying to learn about their. . .biology :Dd Or them trying to bring progressively bigger fish trying to woo and then Ghost ends up bringing you a fucking orca or some shit,

...I had to look up the reproductive cycle of several marine animals for this I hope you are happy.

Deductive Reasoning

Words: 1.3k

CW: ...light fish porn (?)

It was just fascinating. It would have been dreadfully difficult to not talk about this every chance you got and thus break your NDA if not for the fact that you never left this secure little island base. You were permitted to, but why would you want to? You were speaking with living, breathing mermen almost everyday.

4 of them, although they had alluded to their being more out there. These 4 were a... well that was the question wasn't it? Only one shark did not make a shiver, only one seal did not make a herd, only one walrus did not make a rookery and only one mandarinfish did not make a shoal. Was there a collective term for mermen? You were told you were now the leading researcher in the world for this new species, so perhaps that meant you got to decide.

Or maybe you'd just ask. They spoke to you sometimes, or at least made noises. They seemed to understand each other at least which was intriguing on its own.

It had been Soap you had met first. You had been basically abducted and hurried to this island facility where they had captured a real life merman. You were enamoured immediately by the furious thing in the tank. Half seal, harbour seal you thought. Top half looked all but human (skin must be different to allow for underwater living and ah, yes, you could see gills), hair in a mohawk (which suggested someone had cut it to look like that, who? Was it a ritual? Did they have community? Was it an emulation of human culture? Perhaps some mating strategy?), eyes somewhere between human and seal (his physicality was a similar story, he was built strong and thick, a healthy layer of fat over hard muscle).

You perhaps felt a little bashful looking back. You had been so wildly excited, asking a thousand questions and going into chaotic science mode that it took you a whole 16 hours of straight observations and notes to realise there was a creature of higher intelligence being held captive in a tank. You did, of course, apologise profusely. He clearly did not understand what you were saying, but the emotion was human enough. Bemusement.

Soap had come about because he was slippery. Well, actually he wasn't, but the story was that he was slippery. Because if the military knew you had actually been helping him escape you were probably going to get disappeared. It was lucky the facility at that time wasn't as high security, you had gotten away with it.

You had met Gaz right there on the coast when Soap went slicing through the water. You thought looking back that Price and Ghost had probably been there, just out of sight. They had come for him. Gaz was a magnificent thing. His tail was the same pattern as a madarinfish, bright orange with gorgeous blue markings. You had shown him a tin of irn-bru once with a grin and learned then that Soap could laugh. He had come right up to you and after some form of exchange with Soap had been playful, showing off his tail and holding his hand out to you. You had been existing on caffeine and noodles so hardly your fault you took it, getting dragged into the water.

Oh how thrilling an education you received in the courting practices of Dragonets! He had made quite a show of displaying his fins, including a gorgeous dorsal fin on his human looking spine. You knew you simply must see them again if only to study why Gaz's eyes were more human while Soap's leant towards seal like. He was certainly the most expressive of them. His name had only come about because you had tried every other one and he made his disdain for them very clear. By the time the merman had been rubbing what you would call his ventral fins against you, Soap had grabbed you and soundly deposited you back on shore. Just in time too for the soldiers to find you because the doctor later told you that you were in the early stages of hypothermia. Totally worth it actually.

You talked the powers that be into allowing your pet projects to free roam, after all they kept coming back to see you. Over the course of a year the facility was upgraded and a channel added from the sea to an indoor pool that would allow for better study. Soap and Gaz didn't run on a schedule exactly, but they seemed content to swim in every so often and let you poke and prod. Fascinating that they should both be half human but their other half was so entirely different. Soap was half mammal, retractable penis something he was very proud to show off anytime he was in the observation pool. Gaz was half dragonet, and while you tried to put a clutch of eggs in the pool to see if he could fertilise them he had only raised an eyebrow at you and tried once again to pull you in. Tough luck, you had learned your lesson about going into the water with them when you had met Ghost.

It had been the middle of the night when he swam into the pool. Silent, you hadn't heard him (that's where that name had come from in the end). So unsuspecting were you that you were too near the edge and his hand had snaked around your ankle, one sharp pull dragging you in after you fell to the ground (hardly avoiding a broken nose). It wasn't only his tail that was shark, he had a sharp set of teeth that he sank into the meat of your shoulder without much ceremony. His claspers had been strong as hell holding you there, the only thing likely saving you his frustration at your clothes. He must not have understood the concept very well because he released you and dove, pawing at your trousers to try and figure them out. It was an endless source of fascination for him anytime he visited after. He would lean his arms on the pool edge and just stare at your legs, tracing the outline of your body with his sharp eyes. It only seemed fair to let him look since you spent an inordinate amount of time staring at him. He was sleek and muscular, every inch an apex predator in his prime.

It was a contrast to who you would say was the leader of their group. The merman who had saved you from Ghost that first time you met him, who had ripped him away from you when his teeth had sunk into the meat of your thigh through your trousers. Price had hauled you out of the water with ease. He was part Walrus, huge and soft with a layer of blubber similar to Soap's that hid considerable strength. Of all of them his animal half was most pronounced, his canines elongated into tusks and his hair thick and whisker-like around them.

As a scientist you could not possibly play favourites. Price was absolutely your favourite. He would be still and patient with you when you were working with him. He would gently run his fingers over whatever parts of you were in reach. When you babbled excitedly he seemed to listen as best he could.

If you had taken more than a moment to really look into it, you might have realised you were not the only creature conducting research. If you had used some deductive reasoning, you probably could have anticipated that fateful day you were dragged into the sea, never to be seen by the human military again.

[indigosunsetao3]

This one took a good amount of thinking...but I am happy with the result.

"Johnny!" You call as you stroll down the beach, a net bag in your hand jangling full of the things you had found on the shore. The ocean was far too cold for swimming this time of year but it never kept you from strolling down it at sunrise and sunset to see what you could find.

Soap jolts from his spot, disoriented as his hands scramble against the woven blanket. When had he fallen asleep? He glances around the area to figure out where he is before he remembers.

You had dragged him from the flat with a declaration that you needed fresh air. And maybe you could stop at the cafe on the way home for a pastry. Or the bookstore. Maybe even the antique shop. He had laughed at your growing list but joined you anyway, even if he felt a little off kilter.

Coming home after a long deployment always put him in a bit of a fog. His body coming out of the constant fight mode and learning to just relax again. It was always the same the first few days, exhaustion weighing heavy on him so he catnapped whenever the opportunity arose. Though passing out on the beach was a new one for him.

"Johnny," you call again, still down by the shore staring at him.

The sun is to your back, too bright to see your features as Soap pushes up. He can tell you're smiling though, tell by the tone in your voice and the way you have your head cocked to the side.

"Coming bonnie," Soap replies as he stands, his legs shaking a bit. He almost felt feverish, the cold of the ocean air going right down to his bones yet he was hot to the touch as he rubbed his eyes. Fuck if he was sick after being away so long he was going to be mad, he only had a few days home. Right? How long until his next job? How long had he even been home for?

--we need to get him to the evac.

Soap whipped around at the words. He recognized the voice but it sounded far away, as if it were coming to him from underwater. Maybe he really was sick. It would explain why he had passed out on the beach and now he was hearing Price in his head. His flashbacks only ever came to him in his sleep and he certainly felt like he was going to topple over.

"Love," you say suddenly right next to him. When did he get down to the shoreline? The water was seeping into his shoes, his pants, wet all the way up his calves.

Your smile is sweet, soft, as you reach up to gently grab his face to get him to focus on you. You can see the confusion in his eyes as they dart around as if looking for something to ground him. His hands come up to grab your wrists as he finally focuses on you, his breathing rapid and shallow. As if in a panic, or that he can't catch his breath at all.

"You always said you'd come home to me. No matter what, nothing could keep you away," you state as your thumbs run along his cheekbones. "And I need you to come home to me again. We have too many things to do, too many plans for you to give up now." You lean in and give him a gentle kiss, which he returns with fervor, though his body is trembling with exertion against the ocean waves which have reached large swells knocking you both as you attempt to stand.

"Wake up love, and come home to me." Your final words are a command, the tone no longer soft but an order for your soldier.

This is going to hurt Johnny.

Ghost? Soap attempts to turn his head to look but your grip is tight on his face before a searing pain explodes in his thigh. What the fuck is going on? He groans as you hold him and the look of concern on your face is almost enough to crack his pounding heart. He tries to lock in on you, to watch you, but the image flashes.

He's not on the beach at home in Scotland.

He's in the back of a truck with Ghost barking orders at him as he digs around in his leg. It floods back to him, what happened, where he really was. He was on a mission, half a world away from you where you were safely tucked away in your shared flat. Asleep at this hour he's sure.

Soap tries to shift on the truck bed but hands hold him tight as they press against his chest to keep the bleeding under control.

"Almost there," Gaz states as he shoves more gauze against Soap's chest wound. "Tell us more about your bird, been mumbling about her the whole ride," he grins though Soap can see it's forced. A tactic to keep him awake as Ghost snarls and wipes bloodstained fingers against his thighs.

"I've got to get home to her," Johnny manages to ground out before yelping with pain as Ghost twists a tourniquet tighter on his leg. "She gave me a direct order and she's worse than Price when I don't listen."

Hundreds of miles away, you're startled awake by your phone ringing. At this time of night, a phone call from Price was never one you wanted to get. Middle-of-the-night calls were always bad news, worse news when someone you cared about had a dangerous job. Your hands shake as you accept the call, but the first words you hear are:

"He's alive, thanks to you."

[ahqkas]

♯ CIGARETTES OUT THE WINDOW ; tate langdon

PAIRING! tate langdon x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS! a brown eyed boy with messy hair and pretty smile from the neighborhood offers to light up a cigarette for you

WORD COUNT! 2.7k

WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, heavy mention of cigarettes and smoking, mentions of reader struggling mentally, + lmk of more if found

NOTES! i need a pretty brown eyed boy with messy hair to light my cigarette for me . all the credits to the devider below belong to @/v6que !!

© ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

IF CIGARETTES WERE SO BAD FOR YOU, WHY WERE YOU CRAVING THEM LIKE YOUR MOTHER'S TOUCH OR YOUR FATHER'S ATTENTION? How something so small, so seemingly insignificant, could wield such power over you? That finely cut paper filled with cured tobacco leaves caused serious damage to your physical health yet it improved the state of your mind.  

When you held it against your lips and took the first drag, it felt like the first breath you take after being underwater for too long. A rush of adrenaline along with relief, if only for a moment. The nicotine coursed through your veins, wrapping around your brain like the softest of dreams and you ached to reach for it again and again like a child for a hand that was never there. You knew it was killing you slowly, each inhale wrapping around your lungs as if shadow marred its very own presence and each exhale a reminder of the damage you were doing. 

The warnings were there, on every pack. 

It wasn't the act alone that hooked you so hard. The feeling of what the cigarette provided was the real deal. You lit up to quiet the voices in your mind, to numb the ache of loneliness, to dull the reminders of your repeating days. The bitterness of the tobacco, the way it scorched your throat and left a lingering taste on your tongue, was a small price to pay for the way it soothed your soul, however briefly. 

And it was brief — each cigarette only lasted a few minutes. But those minutes were precious. They were yours, and in a life where so much felt out of control, that small sense of ownership was everything. You were the one who decided when to light up, when to take that first drag, when to exhale and watch the smoke curl into the air, disappearing like the worries you wished would do the same.

The night was cool, the air heavy with the damp scent of earth and the faint aroma of wood smoke coming from your neighbor's chimney. It was one of those nights when you felt like your shoulders were loaded with such a burden that there was no way out. At least the night sky didn't disappoint with its beauty — millions, billions of stars were flickering upon the darkness, shining brighter with each passing minute. You sat on the porch steps of your new house, your knees drawn up to your chest and a cigarette dangling loosely between your fingers. 

You felt the coolness of the unlit cigarette against your fingertips, the promise it held lingering in the back of your mind. It was as if time had paused, the night holding its breath alongside you. You toyed with the idea, rolling the cigarette gently between your fingers, feeling the slight bumps of the packed tobacco inside. There was a certain comfort in just holding it — a familiarity, a sense of control over something so small. 

The porch light cast a soft, golden glow around your form, but beyond that, the yard was swallowed by shadows.  

Should you light it? The thought lingered, heavy and persistent, as you stared at the fragile cylinder in your hand. Your parents disapproved of their children smoking and the thoughts of disappointing them felt too heavy for you.  You brought the unlit cigarette to your lips, mind spinning with thoughts you couldn't quite grasp. Everything felt too much — too heavy, too overwhelming. You were suffocating under the weight of it all, and this cigarette, this tiny thing, felt like the only tether to the world you could control. The cool paper pressed against your teeth, offering a strange comfort. 

For a moment, you just held it there, as if the act of lighting it would be too final, too irreversible. The familiar scent of tobacco teased your senses, but something held you back. The night's stillness, the way the shadows seemed to reach out toward you, and the deep sense of unease that had settled in your chest all seemed to whisper, not yet. 

Then, the creak of the porch door behind you shattered the fragile silence. Your heart skipped a beat, fear spiking through you as you imagined your parents standing there, their disapproving eyes catching you in this vulnerable moment. Panic washed over you, the cigarette trembling slightly between your fingers as you fumbled with it, trying to keep the drug out of sight. You couldn't bear the thought of facing them, of explaining what you couldn't even fully understand yourself. 

But when you finally found the courage to turn around, it wasn't your parents. Relief flooded your system immediately as you saw Tate standing there, his figure half-illuminated by the porch light, half-swallowed by the darkness behind him. He always had a way of appearing just when you needed him, like a ghost materializing out of thin air.  Without a word, Tate slid down beside you, the movement smooth and quiet. The space between the two of you shrank until your shoulders brushed and his knee knocked into yours softly in greeting. 

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence between you was thick but not uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that made you yearn for the person's presence because you liked how they made you feel.

And Tate made you feel good in a way that was hard to put into words. It wasn't just his presence, though that alone was enough to soothe the twisted edges of your thoughts. It was the way he understood you without the need for explanations, the way he could step into your personal space and fill it with a quiet strength that seemed to steady everything around you. Tate made you feel good because with him, you felt whole, like all the broken parts of you could finally be mended. 

You kept your gaze ahead on the darkness of the yard, occasionally glancing at your hands, all while feeling the weight of the boy's eyes on you. He was watching you, or perhaps analyzing your actions, but the weight wasn't heavy. With him, everything seemed easy. 

He was the one to break the silence with his voice low, sounding like gravel sliding over stone. "You shouldn't smoke, you know. It's bad for you."

Huffing a soft, bitter laugh, the sound escaped your lips as a faint, misty cloud in the cool night air as your eyes flicked toward him, catching his gaze through the veil of your dark eyelashes. There was a hint of pure amusement in your expression. "It's pretty ironic coming from you," you murmured, voice laced with a touch of mockery. You looked down at the unlit cigarette, rolling it once more between your fingers.

"But it's not like it matters, right?" you continued, your tone shifting to something softer, almost wistful. "It's just . . . something to do."

You shrugged, the gesture small and almost unnoticable, as if trying to dismiss the meaning of what you had just said. But the words you wanted to say lingered in the air between you. It wasn't just about the cigarette — it was about the need to fill the void, to occupy the empty spaces that stretched out endlessly in your life. It was about finding something, anything, to hold onto when everything else felt so fragile.

Tate's brown irises flickered with something you couldn't quite place — a glimmer of understanding, maybe. It was as if he saw through your casual words, past the nonchalance you tried to project, and into the deeper, more vulnerable parts of you that you kept hidden from the entire world. 

He understood you as if you were two sides of the same coin.

The boy didn't say anything at first, just watched you with that steady, unreadable gaze that seemed to pull at the edges of your carefully constructed facade. Then, with a slow movement, Tate reached into the pocket of his flannel shirt, the faint rustle of fabric the only sound breaking the quietness surrounding you. He withdrew a lighter, its polished metal surface catching the porch light for a split second, casting a brief flash of brightness that contrasted sharply with the darkness around you. The lighter was simple, a worn silver Zippo with a few scratches along its surface — evidence of years of use, of countless times it had been flicked open to ignite a flame. 

Tate's movements were smooth and practiced as he flicked the lighter open, the familiar click of the metal lid snapping back echoing softly in the still night air. The sound was almost comforting in its predictability, a stark difference to the unpredictability of your thoughts and emotions. A small flame grew to life, its warm, golden light flickering gently as it cast a soft glow on Tate's face, illuminating the chiseled lines of his jawline and nose, and the softer curve of his lips. His skin, usually pale, seemed to take on a warm hue in the firelight, adding a touch of color to the otherwise cool tones that seemed to follow him wherever he went. And his hair, a tousled mess of blond curls that framed his face, caught the light as well, the strands turning golden where the flame touched them, adding a softness to his otherwise sharp features. The way his hair fell, slightly over his forehead and around his ears, gave him a boyish look that contrasted with the haunted expression in his eyes, which made him seem both young and impossibly old at the same time.

You hesitated, eyes locked on the flame, mesmerized by its hypnotic dance. It was such a small thing, yet it held so much power — the power to transform, to ignite, to bring both comfort and destruction. You could feel the warmth radiating from it. Tate waited, patient and unwavering, for you to make a move. He wasn't pushing you to make a decision, wasn't trying to influence your choice. He was simply there, offering you the possibility. 

You brought the cigarette to rest between your lips, your hand steady despite the slight tremor in your stomach. Leaning in closer to the flame, you could feel the heat brushing against your cheeks, a whisper of warmth that contrasted sharply with the cool night air. The flame licked at your face, casting fleeting shadows across your features as you drew in a slow, deliberate breath, all while your eyes remained locked with the boy who seemed like he fell straight out of your dreams. 

The tip of the cigarette glowed bright orange, and for that brief moment, it felt as if the entire world had narrowed down to just that one glowing point. The burn of the tobacco was immediate, the familiar taste bitter and grounding, pulling you back from the despair. As you exhaled, a plume of smoke curled from your lips, twisting and swirling into the night air, hitting Tate's face. 

"Thanks," you murmured, with your voice softer now, almost vulnerable.

In response, Tate's lips curled into a charming grin, the kind that was disarmingly boyish and just a little crooked at the corners. The smile lit up his features just like the flame did, softening the intensity of his gaze and adding a glint of warmth to his doe eyes. It was the kind of smile that made you feel like, despite the darkness and everything else that loomed over your life, there was still something good in the world — something worth holding onto. 

The boy next to you leaned back, resting his elbows on the step behind him, his gaze lifting to the sky where the stars were hidden by a thick layer of dark clouds. "What's on your mind?" he asked the kind of question that didn't need an immediate answer.

He probably already knew what was swirling around in your head — Tate always seemed to know, like he had a sixth sense for the things you tried to keep buried. But still, he asked, giving you the space to say it out loud or let it hang there between the two of you, unspoken.

You sighed, nimble fingers absently rolling the cigarette between them. You tilted your head slightly, catching his profile against the dim light. You never really noticed before but, God, was he pretty. "You ever feel like you're just . . . stuck?" you began, voice soft, as if you were testing the waters. "Like no matter what you do, you're just going through the motions, waiting for something to change but not really believing it ever will?"

Tate's heart skipped a beat. You couldn't possibly know, and yet your question struck so close to the truth of his existence that it took him a moment to respond. He was stuck — stuck in this place, in this time, in this state of being. And you didn't know. You couldn't know. How could you?

For a second, he felt exposed, vulnerable in a way he only felt in your presence. He kept his gaze on the clouds, forcing himself to stay calm, to not let the surprise show in his expression. But his mind was racing, grappling with the irony of your words. You were searching for a way out of your own feeling of being stuck, while he was trapped in a far more literal sense, bound to this house with no escape. 

"Yeah," the boy finally said, his voice softer, almost hesitant, as if weighing the truth he couldn't fully share. "More often than I'd like to admit."

You didn't seem to notice the tension in his voice, the subtle shift in his demeanor. You just nodded, your own thoughts wrapped up in your struggles. "It's like the world's moving on without me, and I'm just . . . here. Stuck in the same place, doing the same things, feeling the same way."

Tate's heart ached with the weight of what he couldn't tell you, the truth that he was stuck in ways you couldn't imagine. But he kept his voice steady, warm. "You're not alone in that," he said, choosing his words carefully. "We're all trying to find our way, even when it feels impossible." He glanced at you, the weight of your words still hanging in the air, and before he could think twice, he reached out and took your hand in his. His fingers wrapped around yours, warm and reassuring, and he began to slowly rub his thumb over your knuckles in small, soothing circles. The roughness of his thumb contrasted with the softness of your skin.

His steady voice broke the silence with softness. "You know," he began, his tone imbued with sincerity, "I'd never let anybody or anything hurt you. Not while I'm here."

Your gaze remained fixed on your joined hands for a moment, absorbing the seriousness and sincerity of Tate's words. The promise in his voice, the gentle assurance of his touch, created a sense of warmth that made the rest of the world seem a little less scary.

Feeling a surge of gratitude and comfort, you shifted closer to him, leaning your head against his shoulder. The fabric of his shirt felt warm against your cheek, and the subtle scent of him — something earthy and faintly comforting — surrounded you with a feeling of home. Tate was your safe place in this filthy and helpless world. 

His body tensed slightly at the unexpected touch, but he quickly relaxed, his arm instinctively moving to drape over your shoulders in a protective gesture. He could feel the gentle weight of your head resting there, and it brought a sense of closeness he hadn't fully realized he needed. The feeling of having you this close was unreal. 

Tate turned his head slightly, his cheek brushing against the top of your head. "You okay?"

You gave him a nod while your warm breath washed against his neck. "Yeah. I just needed this." 

The two of you stayed like that for a while as the world outside seemed to fade away. The night wrapped around you like a blanket, and for a brief, perfect moment, the worries and fears that had clouded your mind disappeared, replaced by the simple, profound comfort of being close to someone who wasn't afraid to show you just how deeply he cared.

[minisiam]

Underwater World Pattaya: Dive into Thailand’s Premier Marine Attraction

Located in the vibrant city of Pattaya, Underwater World Pattaya is one of the top attractions for visitors looking to explore Thailand’s rich marine life without leaving the land. This incredible aquarium offers a unique opportunity to experience the wonders of the ocean, with thousands of marine species showcased in captivating displays. Whether you're a marine enthusiast, a family looking for an educational experience, or simply someone curious about ocean life, Underwater World promises an unforgettable adventure. Let’s dive deeper into the key highlights, pricing, and everything you need to know about this spectacular attraction.

Highlights of Underwater World Pattaya

One of the main reasons tourists flock to Underwater World Pattaya is the extensive variety of marine life on display. From colorful tropical fish to majestic sharks, the aquarium is home to a diverse range of species that call the ocean their home. Some key Underwater World Highlights include:

Interactive Zones: Touch tanks allow visitors to have a hands-on experience with marine creatures like starfish and sea cucumbers.

The 100-meter-long tunnel: This feature lets you walk through a glass-enclosed tunnel surrounded by water, providing a 360-degree view of the underwater world. You’ll be able to observe creatures like stingrays, giant groupers, and sharks swimming overhead.

Feeding Sessions: Daily feeding shows bring the aquatic world to life as professional divers feed sharks, rays, and other large fish, offering an exciting, up-close view of their feeding habits.

Coral Reef Zone: This area showcases vibrant corals and the variety of marine life that inhabits these ecosystems, mimicking the natural reefs found off Thailand’s coastlines.

With these exciting attractions, Underwater World Pattaya stands out as one of the must-see Pattaya Attractions, drawing in both locals and international tourists.

Underwater World Location and Address

Underwater World Pattaya is conveniently located just a short distance from the bustling city center, making it easily accessible for tourists. The Underwater World Location is at 22/22 Moo 11, Sukhumvit Road, Nongprue, Banglamung, Chonburi 20260, Thailand. Its proximity to major hotels and other Pattaya Attractions makes it a perfect spot to add to your itinerary when visiting Pattaya.

Underwater World Pattaya Timings

For those planning a visit, it’s important to know the Underwater World Timing. The aquarium is open daily from 9:00 AM to 6:00 PM, with the last entry allowed at 5:30 PM. These hours give visitors plenty of time to explore the exhibits and attend feeding sessions or shows throughout the day.

Ticket Prices and Bookings for Underwater World Pattaya

To make the most of your trip, you’ll want to know the Underwater World Price for admission. As of the latest updates, the Underwater World Tickets are priced as follows:

Adults: THB 500

Children (Under 130 cm): THB 300

These rates offer great value for the immersive experience you’ll enjoy at the aquarium. For families, group discounts may also be available. Additionally, you can Book Underwater World tickets online or at the entrance. Online Underwater World Bookings often come with discounted rates or bundled packages with other Pattaya Tours, so it's worth checking the options in advance.

You can easily find deals and make Underwater World Bookings through various platforms, and booking is highly recommended, especially during peak tourist seasons.

Underwater World Pattaya Reviews

According to various Underwater World Reviews, visitors rave about the cleanliness, family-friendly atmosphere, and extensive collection of marine life. Many tourists highlight the aquarium's tunnel as the most memorable experience, while others appreciate the interactive exhibits that engage children and adults alike. Some reviews suggest that the best time to visit is during feeding hours to witness the action-packed sessions. Overall, Underwater World Pattaya has a strong reputation for providing an entertaining and educational experience for visitors of all ages.

Marine Life at Underwater World Pattaya

The array of Marine Life Pattaya is simply extraordinary. The aquarium features over 5,000 marine animals from different parts of the world, organized into different zones. You'll encounter fascinating species, from freshwater fish and coral reef inhabitants to the more elusive creatures found in the deeper parts of the ocean. Among the highlights are seahorses, jellyfish, giant spider crabs, and the ever-impressive sand tiger sharks.

For visitors eager to explore Pattaya Aquarium offerings, there’s something new to discover in every corner, making Underwater World one of the best ways to experience the marvels of marine life.

Why Visit Underwater World Pattaya?

If you’re visiting Thailand, especially for Thai Tourism, a trip to Underwater World Pattaya offers a break from the usual beach or city sights. It’s a great way to connect with nature while learning about the importance of marine conservation. Pattaya’s lively city offers plenty of entertainment opportunities, but Underwater World provides a quieter, more reflective experience, focusing on the beauty and importance of underwater ecosystems.

Best Pattaya Tours: Adding Underwater World to Your Itinerary

When planning your trip to Pattaya, including Underwater World in your tour itinerary is a must. Many of the Best Pattaya Tours combine visits to the aquarium with other popular attractions, such as the Nong Nooch Tropical Garden, Sanctuary of Truth, and floating markets. These combo tours are often available at discounted rates and provide a comprehensive way to explore Pattaya’s most famous spots.

Whether you're looking for an activity that’s family-friendly, educational, or simply awe-inspiring, Underwater World Pattaya promises to be one of the highlights of your visit. So, don’t miss the chance to witness some of the world’s most fascinating marine life right in the heart of Pattaya.

[xtrafluffyteddy]

Home for Christmas

Pairing: John “soap” mactavish x reader

Warnings: pregnancy, angst, major character death, bittersweet ending

You were in the throws of decorating for soaps upcoming return and Christmas right around the corner, when you heard a soft knocking at you door, quickly climbing down the small step ladder you waddle your way to the door excitement bubbling in your chest wondering if somehow Johnny was able to get home earlier than expected mind running with thoughts of finishing decorating the nursery with him, putting up the tree, and doing all the sappy Christmas stuff you both have grown to love throughout the years.

Oh how wrong you were. Flinging open the door bright smile on your face only to be met by Price and Ghost standing before you with somber looks in their eyes. Not wanting to expect the worst you look past them hoping to catch a glimpse of Johnnys familiar mohawk and boisterous voice “Where’s Johnny” you ask looking at the two men before you “did he take a separate car? Got held up by paperwork?” The two men share a quick look before stepping inside leading you to the couch where they help you sit down.

“Sweetheart” Ghost begins as he looks away not ready to see your excitement turn to grief at what he’s about to say “I’ll take it from here Simon” Price assures the man patting the lieutenants shoulder before taking your hands in his scarred ones “Price, Simon, your scaring me where’s Johnny” you ask already feeling a pit of dread in your stomach. “Lass” Price begins “Soap- John, he isn’t coming home” he squeezes your hand gently “did he get held up or something did the mission extend?” You tried to come up with any reason as to why Johnny’s not coming home other than the one you dread the most. “Johnny was killed in action sweetheart, he would’ve tore the world apart with his bare hands if it meant coming home to you and him” he points to your stomach. You place a gentle hand on your stomach where you and johnnys son is safely nestled not knowing that he’ll never meet his dad.

“Lass” Proce inquired as he reached out to rub your arm “you still with us?” Everything sounded like it was underwater your mind running a mile a minute Johnnys not coming home, he was killed in action, you’ll raise the child you tried so hard for alone, you’ll never have another Christmas with him. “Sweetheart” Ghosts call of your name snapped you out of it “is there anything we can do to make this easier” you shook your head mouth dry, words caught in your throat.

After that day Price and Ghost had been there everyday to make sure you were eating well, drinking water, making it to your appointments just like Soap would’ve done. “It’s time lass” price murmured as he and ghost waited by the car door wearing full black, “coming” you whisper as you get out of the vehicle Johnnys ashes clutched in your arms black veil covering your face “we’ve got you sweetheart” Ghost murmured as he lead you towards the cliff side where Gaz was waiting “rest easy soap” ghost grunted eyes staring out at the crashing waves “goodbye my darling” you whisper voice cracking as you released his ashes watching as the waves swallowed them up. It was almost comforting knowing Johnny made it home where he belonged.

Not the best I made myself sad :(

[cookieinstinct]

America is turning into the Handmaids tale. That sentence has been thrown around a lot the past couple years and I think I’m actually starting to believe it. Are we gonna have to go full handmaids tale before you guys start to WAKE UP. What’s it’s going to take for you trump supporters to finally say I’m sorry you told me so to finally feel remorse?

is it?? Perhaps when all immigrants are deported? is it when queer people what? Reform? go to church camps? Get “cured?” or how about when all trans children have committed suicide? How about when every single indigenous person and families have been eradicated? When doctors life saving doctors are being arrested for performing medical procedures? When your diabetic grandmother can no longer afford her insulin because of inflation and she looses a limb?? A world where Palestine isn’t even on a map? how about getting rid of every single Jewish, Muslim non Christian person and religion because “Trump is for Jesus?” Or maybe when states like Florida and California are all underwater for not taking climate change seriously? How about all the black Americans that the cops will and HAVE turned their backs on and will continue doing so? How about when the grocery prices start going up so severely and the stock market crashes again and we will be forced to into another Depression?? When so many forced births are happening more children being born dead? More children being born of rape and incest being put into foster care and the influx of children going into foster care with no where to go and no family. When all the black women you know go missing? When gun violence is so out of control people don’t even feel safe leaving their own houses or going to work or children going to school? What is it going to take for you people to feel empathy? To feel bad about what’ve you’ve done. To feel regret.

I’m going to compare it personally because it seems the only CHANCE of yall feeling remorse is when it has to be affecting you, personally.

when your own happily pregnant daughter has a miscarriage and she’s charged with second degree murder? And her doctor is arrested.

when your five year old son gets shot and killed by a new gun law YOU voted

when your child is going through a vitamin deficiency for your inability to pay for groceries and they start loosing teeth?

When your daughters rapist gets child support

when your retired elderly parents are forced to start working again because of the housing crisis

what needs to happen for yall to wake up and realize what will happen or at the very least what COULD happen.

(I’m sorry with how vulgar and blunt this post is but I just can’t help put it out there HOW and WHAT could happen without pg-ing it sanitizing it better for them to consume and be comfortable with reading. I don’t give a shit, be uncomfortable)

[space-blue]

so uh do you think the recombinants have human rights? or are we just going to see the rda doing human experiments cause they are “only” copies of people

Heya anon. Interesting question to get out of the blue.

I don't see why recoms would have human rights. Not only are they not "human" and giving them rights would be a slippery slope to giving the Na'vi rights, they are the explicit commercial creation of a private company.

The genre of the Avatar franchsie can be confusing at times due to the optimistic vibes, pretty setting and time spent on exploration with the natives of Pandora, but the human side is extremely rooted in cyberpunk.

The RDA is a company.

Imagine if we discovered a sentient race of underwater aliens on Europa, and the people interracting with them were from SpaceX, on a SpaceX agenda, and not NASA, ESA or JAXA. Worse, since the RDA is all about mining, imagine they were kitted out and working under an executive of Glencore! Shipped by SpaceX...

IDK if the world of Avatar has more info in novelisations, games or comics reguarding the state of laws in space, but I very much think that if people like Quaritch signed a contract to allow the use of his DNA and recorded memories, and the RDA creates recombinants off their own tech at their own price, for their own security team... Then no court of justice has any say in that.

I doubt the RDA's HR department on Pandora will be reporting anything back to earth if the recoms have complaints... By the way, canonically if your cryopod malfunctions during an interstellar trip with the RDA, you die, because they don't keep enough resources on board to let human live the length of the trip, so good luck having any humane law at your back.

On the other hand, I don't understand what you mean by human experiments.

The RDA is not interested in that, and they don't seem to be needed. From the films, we know they want rocks and oil. That's it. They do mining and hunting. They aren't set on Pandora to do human experiments.

A1 already has the ability to use avatars, and those avatars are created on earth and mature over the course of the flight. So clearly the creation of hybrid bodies has been going on for decades (since Grace has been at this for a long while!) and there's no hint of it being human experimentation.

Again: recombinants aren't human. That's what makes them so fascinating. They are a mostly Na'vi and human chimera, with a memory imprint that forces a personality on them. But they can't live natural lives on earth, don't have any legal identity (Quaritch and his men are DEAD. They died. They were clearly labeled KIA so the RDA could make the recom contract kick in).

Even their qualia, the way they experience consciousness, is not human. Humans aren't that size, that build, with tails and swivelling ears. They may remember being a human, but they aren't anymore.

Which creates enormous room for angst and fantastic reasons to rebel and join the locals. The memories of humanity are used as a leash. IDK if they are even copies of people. Q is clearly missing memories outside of what was recorded for him.

I don't think there will be "experiments" on them. I don't see the point. Q & co. are also not used in that way in the story of A2. They are fearsome but easy to dispatch villains for a setting that doesn't tolerate humans anymore.

I don't think that recoms being "remade" would be an experiment or a torture. I think it would be the cold calculations of a cyberpunk mega-corp.

But don't forget there is no process to speed this along. So either the company already made several copies of each recoms, or they'll need years to make new ones. They're also very expensive, so who knows.

I really enjoy the idea of Q going rogue precisely because he's given a new crew of the same recoms to work with and the inhumanity of it finally breaks him. He'd be bound to realise there's more of him in storage and nothing he can do will be meaningful in that way.

[pink-lemonade-rose]

Aelius Aristides, in his encomium of the well in the Pergamene Asclepieion, refers to Asclepius as 'gentlest and most loving of mankind’ of the gods (praotatos te kai philanthropotatos). And such a character is strongly conveyed in practice by the later fourth-century BC Epidaurian miracle inscriptions: here he is ever a gentle, merciful, and good-humoured god, always ready to answer a sincere petition. He cures a child for the price of his toy dice, and laughs with him. A man who comes only for relief of his headaches is not only cured in his sleep but also taught a pancration move at the same time that allows him to go on and win the Nemean games. He is not too proud to mend even a broken cup. The god is happy to stretch the definition of healing rather further than this too in finding lost items and people, including a boy who has contrived to swim into a cave accessible only underwater. He is ready to cure even those who initially disbelieve in or actually scoff at his powers, though he then exacts a moderate additional compensation for doing so: one man is asked to dedicate a silver pig, another is required henceforth to bear the name Apistos, ‘Unbeliever’. Those who try to cheat him of his modest reward receive only provisional or jocular punishments: the affliction is temporarily restored; a tattoo is mysteriously drawn; a fishmonger’s stocks are cooked with a thunderbolt—small prices indeed to pay for sacrilege.

Daniel Ogden, Drakon: Dragon Myth and Serpent Cult in the Greek and Roman Worlds