#pu injection

[waynejay]

Adcos Asia - The Pros and Cons of Using PU Resin for Structural Repairs

Among the many structural repair materials, polyurethane (PU) resin has earned a name for itself due to its adaptability and efficiency. The utilisation of PU resin, specifically through methods like PU grout injection, has become a norm in today's construction and repair sector.

Discover the pros and cons of employing PU resin for structural repairs.

Advantages of Using PU Resin for Structural Repairs

1. High Strength and Durability

PU resin is known for its high strength and durability, making it an excellent choice for structural repairs. It can withstand significant stress and load, ensuring long-term stability and reliability of the repaired structure.

2. Versatility in Application

One of the main benefits of PU resin is its versatility. This material can be used for various structural repairs, including concrete cracks, joints, and voids. This adaptability makes it a go-to solution for many repair scenarios.

3. Effective Waterproofing

PU resin is highly effective in waterproofing applications. When used in PU grout injection, it can seal cracks and joints, preventing water ingress and subsequent damage. This property is critical for maintaining the integrity of structures exposed to moisture.

4. Fast Setting Time

PU resin has a relatively fast setting time compared to other materials. This characteristic is beneficial for repair projects that require quick turnaround times, minimising downtime and disruptions to the structure's usage.

5. Strong Adhesion Properties

The adhesion properties of PU resin are superior, ensuring that it bonds well with various substrates. This strong adhesion helps create a seamless repair that integrates well with the existing structure, enhancing its overall strength.

6. Chemical Resistance

PU resin is resistant to various chemicals, including acids, bases, and solvents. This chemical resistance makes it suitable for repairs where exposure to harsh substances is typical.

Disadvantages of Using PU Resin for Structural Repairs

1. Cost Considerations

One of the primary disadvantages of using PU resin is its cost. PU resin can be more expensive than other repair materials, which might be a limiting factor for some projects, especially those with tight budgets.

2. Health and Safety Concerns

The application of polyurethane resin involves health and safety risks. The chemicals used in PU resin can be hazardous, requiring proper handling, protective equipment, and ventilation. Failure to adhere to safety protocols can result in health issues for workers.

3. Limited Temperature Tolerance

PU resin may have limited temperature tolerance. Extreme temperatures can affect its performance, potentially leading to degradation over time. This limitation needs to be considered in environments subject to significant temperature fluctuations.

4. Complexity in Application

Applying PU resin through PU injection methods can be complex and may require skilled labour. The precision needed for successful application means that untrained personnel might not achieve the desired results, leading to subpar repairs.

5. Potential for Shrinkage

PU resin can experience shrinkage during the curing process. This shrinkage can create gaps or reduce the effectiveness of the repair, necessitating careful monitoring and, in some cases, additional applications to ensure a complete fix.

6. Environmental Impact

The production and use of PU resin have environmental implications. The chemicals involved in its manufacture and application can contribute to environmental pollution if not managed properly. This factor is increasingly important as the industry moves towards more sustainable practices.

Conclusion

PU resin application, which encompasses methods like PU injection, provides many benefits for structural repairs. These advantages include exceptional strength, versatility, and efficient waterproofing. Nevertheless, it is also essential to acknowledge the drawbacks associated with its use, such as the expenses involved, health and safety considerations, and potential environmental consequences. Gaining a comprehensive understanding of these pros and cons is vital to making well-informed choices when selecting repair materials and techniques.

Visit Adcos International to enhance the strength and longevity of your structures with our advanced repair solutions.

[proofingwatersg]

PMMA Waterproofing: The Best Way to Protect Your Commercial or Industrial Building in Singapore

PMMA waterproofing coating is a rapid-curing, durable, and cost-effective solution for commercial and industrial buildings in Singapore. It is also environmentally friendly and sustainable. Learn more about the benefits of PMMA waterproofing in this article.

[leakproofservices]

Ensuring the longevity and safety of urban buildings requires addressing lift pit leakage effectively. By understanding the causes and implementing targeted solutions like PU injection grouting and consulting with waterproofing contractors in Mumbai, you can maintain the structural integrity and hygiene of your building.

[leakproofin]

Leakages from the bathroom due to gaps in the tile joint

Gaps in the tiles leads to leakages from the bathroom or any wet area. The joints in tiles should be filled with epoxy grout or silicon. Cement grouts are good as long as they are mixed with sand and hence Leakproof provides PU Injection Grouting in Mumbai.

[xoluvx]

thirst comments; b.elish

this was a request, ily & thank u anon for requesting this! 🩵

"That was a good one," you say nonchalantly pointing at Billie while looking at the camera and nodding approvingly. She's sitting next to you. Her cheeks red. Lips doing that cute half smile half frown thing. You can tell she's flustered as her voice falters each time she reads a new comment.

"Okay, what else do you have?" You clear your throat turning to look at her. She glances at you. You look so cute and serious with your arm propped on the chair, chin resting in the palm of your hand waiting expectantly. You were loving this. Watching her squirm and shift uncomfortable each time she read a thirsty fan comment.

She, on the other hand, is sweating bullets and burning through her chair as she's made to read the comments about herself. She wipes her palm on her shorts contemplating why she ever agreed to do this and why they’d insisted on you joining.

"Hm," she nods and her mouth forms a line. "Okay." She inhales looking down at the phone.

"Daddy." Billie says reading the single world putting her phone down while staring at the camera trying not to laugh while nodding her head.

"That's it," she says looking at you.

You’re looking at her curiously, head still propped on your hand. Lips pursuing.

“True,” you speak never taking your eyes off her. “You are indeed daddy,” you emphasize the word as her eyes bulge and she rolls them slightly, mouth open. She’s getting flashbacks of your voice in her ear chanting the word, your hand in secret places.

“Do you want to read the next ones?” The producer speaks from behind the camera and Billie glances at her with an ‘oh god please no’ look. But your face has mischief written on it and of course you’d love to read the next ones you say sweetly reaching out for the phone. When your fingers brush her covered thigh, she squirms and her mouth forms a tight line. Chest beating rapidly.

You clear your throat looking at the next comment. Your mouth falls open and your brows raise feeling a sudden rush of heat consume your face. These weren’t even about you and you felt flushed. You glance at Billie who was a bundle of nerves, leg shaking, hand palming her knee as she waited.

“I would bathe in 99.9% disinfectant, drink that shit, even inject myself with it—if it meant getting a shot at bagging that pu-“ Billie screams and covers her mouth as you giggle unable to finish. Her eyes are big and almost watering from laughter. She pulls at her shirt tossing her head back before waving her hands in front her. You laugh and lean forward on your chair, head hanging low matching her sobbing laughter. You were sweating and you couldn’t believe you’d just spoken those words.

“Ya’ll some horny horny m-“ Billie started saying, but you cut her off with the next one.

“Mommy? Sorry. Mommy?” You laugh squinting your eyes unable to keep them open from laughing, belly and lungs aching.

Billie squeals and melts in her chair, body sliding off as you watched her pool on to the floor. She hid her face. You reach out for her rubbing the top of her head. You hand lands on the back of her neck as she looks up at you, leaning on the chair.

“Do you identify as mommy or daddy?” You ask searching her face, legs crossed, hand still behind her neck cradling her head. She feels your fingers gently rubbing her scalp and getting tangled in her hair. She knew you were teasing, but it was almost as if the cameras were gone and you were genuinely asking.

Billie bit her lip and blushed.

“Uh,” her brows furrow and her lips purse in thought. Then she cracks a smile and you’re leaning down into her laughing hysterically and she’s laughing too and her hand reaches up for your cheek and she’s just holds you completely ignoring the cameras. Your hands in her hair, her hand on your cheek. Just the two of your in your own little world.

“You’re totally daddy,” she whisper in her ear and she moans ever so softly affected by your words still clinging to your face. The flashbacks come back and stronger and she just wants to get home to recreate them.

“Okay, cut.” Billie waves her hand covering your faces when you share a small kiss. Giggles and laughter fill the room.

•

•

shout out to @your-queer-gal-nikki

[gor3sigil]

Acne. Acne on my shoulders, on my chest, on my back, on my face. Acne everywhere. Yesterday’s injection left my leg’s muscle sore. My recent scars are red and swollen and itchy. My skin is greasy an hour only after taking a shower. But I’m alive. Even if just out of spite, even in the current political climate, even when I feel like a lot of people would love to see me dead. I don’t need to be beautiful. At this state, in this world, in this current time, I’m not doing any efforts anymore to prove that I deserve to be alive. I’m not thin, I’m not conventionally attractive. I’m disabled, I limp, I wear glasses. I have scars on my wrists, on my legs, I’m slightly fat. HRT didn’t make me prettier, I didn’t get any nipples grafts, I look like a freak. And yet, I’m alive.

10 years ago I thought I’d be dead before my twenties, or that I was doomed to live the life of an heterosexual woman (that I was not), get married, have kids, be miserable. I pictured my life like my mother’s, like so many women I knew then who seemed like they regretted giving birth, being birthed, with bags under their eyes, breathing like the air around them weighted a ton. I had all the sympathy in the world for them, but when I looked at them I was scared of them looking back, like a projection of my future trying to get me.

So I fled and left everything behind. More than a family, more than a factitious home, more than traumas, I fled expectations, I fled upbringings, I fled the disappointment I was to embrace the disappointment I wanted to become.

Moving places, changing numbers, changing names, altering my very being with chemicals.

I didn’t grow a backbone to stand up against whose who gave birth to me, but I grew a whole new self, I shed, I hatched, I bloomed. Not in a beautiful kind of way, petals slowly expanding and letting out the smell of fresh morning dew with a hint of vanilla, but in a gruesome way. Bones breaking against the sheer will I had to mutate, skin breaking and torn apart with claws, blood splashing all over the corpse of what I had been forced to grow into, to form a whole new gore of a silhouette I made with the remains of broken parts of me. Everything I had threwn away I ended up throwing up, for a while I had a thousand faces, a thousand voices, a billion eyes.

I ate the placenta raw, drank its juices, bathed in the horrible stench of a self inflicted rebirthing. I almost choked on my own brittled bones. What an experience it is, to make new with nothing but ashes, to blow in a dead heart like in glass to make it live and beat.

But enough with the lyricism.

So, ugly I am. Not even formed, still transitionning, I look like I’m 16 at 26 years old. My butchered torso is leaking pus and it takes everything in me to not pick at my scars.

I have pimples on old self harm scars all over my arms and chest. My hair is growing out and looks like nothing. I still wear chipped nail polish I’m too lazy to remove.

Yet, here I stand. Alive. Despite it all. And that in itself is a miracle.

[whumplump]

Day 18 of @augusnippets

Prompts used: infection / self-administered medicine

Not used: apocalypse (I had an idea, but I thought it would be lame.)

CW: stoic whumpee, heavy injury (infection, blood), field medicine, on the run, use of swear words

Despite the unbearable pain in their right thigh, Whumpee continued running, even if they were limping, to a distance they considered safe. They supported themselves by leaning their backs against the wall and sliding until they sat on the floor. They looked at the injured leg. Other small cuts were still bleeding, starting to create pus around them, and there were still thorns stuck. They tried to take some out, until giving up when the pain became too much. A large tear was open on the surface of their right thigh, made when they tried to free themselves from the thorn bush and their leg got stuck; they pulled it desperately, without thinking about the consequences. And it ended like that.

They took advantage of the fact that their pants were destroyed and ripped out a piece of the fabric. They wrapped it around their injured thigh, above the wound, like a makeshift tourniquet.

"Ah, this'll have to do," they said to themselves with ragged breaths. "Crap..."

They took out one of the syringes they kept in a little bag on the side of the other leg. They took a few deep breaths before burying the needle in the injured leg. They held on tight to not scream in pain. When they were sure that all the analgesic contents had been fully injected, they carelessly discarded the empty needle on the floor.

They waited a few seconds, breathing deeply, until the medicine took effect. Impatient, they tapped their fingers on the ground. When they felt the slightest bit of relief in the wound, they didn't wait for the rest and got up.

"Fuck it, it's going to have to be like this…!”

They started walking again, which somehow helped the anesthesia take effect faster thanks to the blood pumping. The brave Whumpee continued on their way. Even with all the pain, they didn't shed a single tear.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC’s Lucien - Rebirth Date - English Translation [1/3]

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for a date that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

No Man's Land Solo SSR Event | Rebirth Date Part 1 (You're here) | Date Part 2 | Date Part 3 | Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Blood and pus soak through the tattered sheets. Their entire body is rotting, leaving only a grotesque face that still faintly resembles a human being.

"You have already done very well."

Lucien's calm voice is particularly eerie amidst the wailing as he gently comforts the person and changes the bandages covering him.

The man's pleas and wails seem to be separated from him by some barrier. He just smiles and injects another dose of medication.

Translation under the cut!

—[Video]—

This guy somewhat sounds hotter when he says the most unhinged things help🤪 Also! 10/10 bgm choice lololol.

—[Part 1]—

MC: I've arrived at Basement Level 2.

In the darkness, the scent of decay spreads around. I struggle to carry the lantern down the stairs and cautiously press the black box in my hand.

It's as if there's an invisible flame in the air, making it hard for me to breathe. My skin also feels a faint burning pain.

??(Lucien): [talking through the transmitter] It took 36 minutes longer than expected. How is your physical condition now?

MC: A bit hot and stuffy... my whole body still feels a bit sore.

??(Lucien): Is the pain severe?

MC: It's okay. I can still bear it.

I enunciate each word slowly*. After a moment of silence, I hear the other person speak again.

??(Lucien): Then let's continue.

??(Lucien): In front of you is a corridor. The path should be relatively smooth.

??(Lucien): Follow the stairs to the left and try to see if you can open the third room. There should be a cabinet inside.

Per his instructions, I successfully feel my way to the room he mentioned and even luckily push the door open directly.

As I enter the room, I am greeted by a wave of dust that has been undisturbed for a long time. Torn and tattered papers lie scattered across the floor, their contents illegible.

I brush away the moldy air in front of me; the room is even larger than I imagined, and after feeling around for a long time, I finally see a huge cabinet.

The rusty cabinet door is already a bit twisted. When I finally pry it open, I find neatly stacked thick notebooks.

I curiously pull out a book. The pages are already yellowed, but the text remains clear.

MC: In 1973... the 19th experimental report on the 'Simulation of Radiation from the 1917 Comet'**...

MC: In 1995... the 42nd experimental report on the 'Evol Energy Core'...

Various complex numbers and figures are recorded sequentially according to time. I browse through them blankly, completely unable to understand what they mean.

??(Lucien): Is this lady encountering some trouble?

MC: Not really. However, this cabinet is more extensive than I imagined, and there is a lot of information inside.

MC: It feels like I can't take everything out at once.

??(Lucien): It's okay. Each booklet should have a numerical label. Let's start with the important ones first.

As he speaks, he reports a few numbers.

MC: ...1974, 1981, 1995... Alright, I've got them all.

MC: By the way, I just found many tables in the room I passed by.

MC: There are lots and lots of pressable and rotatable... buttons? There are also some mysterious shapes on the wall that I can't quite understand.

MC: Do you know what they are?

The person opposite the black box also seems stunned and falls silent.

??(Lucien): Is that table slightly curved, and are the structures on the wall mainly dot-shaped and block-shaped?

MC: That's right!

??(Lucien): [chuckles then sighs] I didn't expect... such things would still be left behind.

He seems to smile as he lets out a long sigh, with a particular indescribable itch to try.

??(Lucien): Today's gains have completely exceeded expectations. Thank you for your hard work. Let's get ready to return.

✂———————–

I walk alone through the ruins corroded by decay.

I thought I had long been accustomed to facing the scent of death, but when I see a familiar yet blurry figure in the desolation, my steps involuntarily quicken.

As the sharp alarm sounds, his figure becomes increasingly clear.

I stand still from a distance, looking back at that smile-filled gaze.

MC: [happily] Lucien, why are you here again! Didn't I tell you to wait for me in the safe house?

Lucien: I wanted to go for a walk, but as I walked farther, I felt a bit scared being alone. It would be more reassuring to have someone accompany me.

Lucien: I'm very happy to have waited for you.

I know this is just his excuse, but I am equally happy not to expose him.

I skillfully put on the isolation*** suit Lucien specially made for me not far away and walked up to him.

MC: A certain someone really pushes their luck, making one person do multiple tasks. Not only do I have to help with research, but I also have to run errands.

Lucien: They are indeed pushing their luck, so I suggest you ask for more compensation from him.

MC: [smiles softly] Then I will make him help me deal with all kinds of troubles.

Lucien: I think... he would be more than willing to do such things.

As we chat casually and leisurely, the safe house appears before us.

I habitually walk into the house, descend the stairs, pass through layers of iron doors, and remove my isolation suit in front of the last iron door.

As the door closes, a dazzling light suddenly pierces through the darkness.

I fall into a momentary daze, vaguely hearing distant and cold voices.

??(Not Lucien, distant voice from the past): "Increase the dosage... the data is showing significant fluctuations…"

A sense of phantom pain surges through my entire body as if a black tide is rolling in.

Lucien: MC.

Lucien's voice comes through the speaker.

Lucien: Our experiment No. 0625 is about to start. Are you ready?

I take a deep breath and lift my head with a determined gaze.

MC: I'm ready.

[T/N]

*: The phrase '一字一句地' (yī zì yī jù de) literally means 'word by word' or 'one word at a time, one sentence at a time.' This indicates that MC replies to Lucien's question about pain very carefully and deliberately, paying attention to each individual word. It implies that the pain feels severe to her, but because she doesn’t want Lucien to worry, she downplays it by telling him that she can still bear it. A brief silence follows as Lucien understands the implication of her careful answer. Perhaps he is sighing and calling her a little fool in his heart :'D

**: Not sure if it's the same comet since this one date is set in AU (it might just be a reference), but the x1917 Comet is the one that threatens to destroy the world at the end of S1 (and mid-S2) right at 19:17. This reminds me of a theory that the Queen acts as a magnet for the comet🤧. I think on this date, MC has a similar situation where she is having radiation that can bring death to others.

***: '隔离服' in this context means 'isolation suit', which is different from the 'protective suit' that Lucien wears. It's related to her power, and she's deathly to others because she somehow absorbs the radiation and radiates it back to them. MC wears the suit to protect others from the radiation in her body.

—[Part 2]—

Today's experiment doesn't seem to yield any results.

I secretly observed his calm face and silently drew a conclusion in my mind.

Upon careful reflection, I realize that in the past six months, I have hardly ever seen any signs of frustration on Lucien's face, nor has he ever caused me as much pain as those madmen from the past.

Therefore, although I cannot fully trust researchers like him, I can still achieve long-term cooperation with him.

Lucien quickly organizes today's data and then opens another set of records and a map.

Lucien: Yesterday's radiation tide has intensified the radiation in Zone X. The personnel in these areas need to be relocated soon.

MC: [worriedly] ...The heavily contaminated radiation zone is getting larger and larger. Will the entire Zone X eventually be…

Lucien: There is such a trend, but the changes in the world always exceed our imagination.

Lucien: Many areas in Zone X are still only mildly contaminated, so there's no need to be too pessimistic yet.

Facing my worries, he gives a reassuring smile.

Lucien: However, time is indeed running a bit tight.

MC: [worriedly] Do you want to move to a safer place first?

Lucien: My research on the books and materials in this building is not yet finished, and the equipment and samples are also here.

MC: ...Are these things more important than human beings?

Lucien doesn't answer me. He just smiles, puts on the protective gear, and picks up the organized boxes.

Lucien: Let's go. Let's take a look at the city.

✂———————–

The city's ruins have been eroded by rain, snow, and frost, leaving only moss and weeds freely spreading throughout.

The world wears down this desolate land in different ways, but it has never listened to everyone's prayers and pleas.

Lucien and I skillfully turn into an alley, pass through an almost completely unshielded door, and see a weak middle-aged man inside the dilapidated house.

Lucien: [gently] How are you doing today?

Middle-aged man: ...Doctor, you're here... my whole body still hurts... but I feel much better…

Lucien: Don't worry, that's the normal effect of the medication. You'll feel more comfortable tomorrow.

As Lucien speaks, he injects medication into the middle-aged man's arm and hands him a packet of medicine.

Lucien: Just like I told you before, once a day.

Middle-aged Man: Alright... Thank you very much…

Lucien develops all those medications himself. I don't know how he manages to create these in such a ruined world, but he somehow does.

It's as enigmatic as 'radiation'.

No one knew what it was before; everyone only knew that approaching certain places would cause inexplicable pain and death.

Some called it a 'curse', some called it a 'colorless beast', and others said such places were 'God's slaughterhouse'.

Even though I had been with it for many years, no one ever told me what it really was.

I will always remember when I saw Lucien again after we had agreed to work together; he took out a notebook and started drawing for me.

=Flashback Start=

Lucien: It is called 'radiation.' It is the form of energy that moves as waves or subatomic particles, radiating outward in straight lines from the radiation source in all directions.

Lucien: Based on its energy level and ability to ionize substances, we generally classify it as 'ionizing radiation' and 'non-ionizing radiation.'

MC: ...I don't understand. Why does it make people die?

Lucien: You can temporarily imagine it as countless bullets, too small for you to see, being shot at you.

Lucien: They break everything inside your body, preventing your blood from regenerating and your heart from continuing to beat.

Lucien told me that this is 'knowledge'.

MC: If I still want to ask 'why', is that also an effect of 'radiation'?

His smile deepened, and in those deep, mysterious eyes, I seemed to see countless emotions that I couldn't understand.

Lucien: This is 'curiosity'.

Lucien: It has nothing to do with 'radiation'. It belongs only to you and is the first step towards the world and yourself.

=Flashback End=

✂———————–

After noting down some things, Lucien takes me to meet many people.

They are either weak or healthy; some undergo drastic changes overnight, while others are lucky enough to regain their vitality.

I never understood why there were still people in the contaminated areas. Despite fearing death, they still chose to set foot on this gloomy land.

Later, following Lucien, I gradually understood that there are always many people in this world.

There will always be those with nowhere to go, those who yearn for death, those at their wit's end, those longing to return to their hometown, and those who refuse to believe.

And Lucien… he records and treats each of them according to their situations. Seeing their admiring gazes, I silently avert my eyes.

✂———————–

Man: City Lord... I beg you... please kill... me…!

In the last visited hut, blood and pus soak through the tattered sheets. Their entire body is rotting, leaving only a grotesque face that still faintly resembles a human being.

People call such individuals 'living corpses'. They seem to be alive but are also dying.

Lucien: [gently] You have already done very well.

Lucien: We still have opportunities, and you will undoubtedly have many possibilities.

Lucien's calm voice is particularly eerie amidst the wailing as he gently comforts the person and changes the bandages covering him.

The clear liquid flows through the needle into the vein, while the glowing instrument continuously shines. Lucien observes and records simultaneously.

The man's pleas and wails seem to be separated from him by some barrier. He just smiles and injects another dose of medication.

Lucien: Only by living can you reach the future. Your life is still very important.

✂———————–

As we step out of the building amid the wailing, the gentle and brilliant light shines down as always, but I feel incredibly cold.

A little child runs over with a tattered book and stands beside Lucien.

Little Boy: Teacher, how should this character be pronounced?

Lucien: [chuckles gently] Let me take a look.

He squats down, looks at the spot the little boy is pointing to, and teaches him word by word.

Suddenly, the wailing behind us stops.

I instinctively turn my head, but the glaring sunlight blurs my vision.

Lucien: [murmurs quietly] Is the dosage still not right…

Faintly, Lucien's voice seems to come through.

When I turn to the side again, I see him with his hand on his chin, lost in thought, then he continues talking to the child.

I gaze at him deeply, feeling that sometimes this man has a kind of calmness that is terrifying.

✂———————–

On the way back, I remain silent. When death arrives, it always easily strips me of all words and emotions.

Lucien: MC, are you feeling sad?

Lucien's question shatters the silence. I ponder it for a long moment, then nod slowly.

Lucien: [sighs then speaks] Do you think death is the end?

I don't know why he would ask this. Looking at the blood-red dusk outside the window, many faces that I have only seen once and never again flash through my mind.

MC: When a person dies, they are just dead, and there is nothing left.

Next Part=> [Click Here]

[mariacallous]

Parasites take an enormous toll on human and veterinary health. But researchers may have found a way for patients with brain disorders and a common brain parasite to become frenemies.

A new study published in Nature Microbiology has pioneered the use of a single-cell parasite, Toxoplasma gondii, to inject therapeutic proteins into brain cells. The brain is very picky about what it lets in, including many drugs, which limits treatment options for neurological conditions.

As a professor of microbiology, I’ve dedicated my career to finding ways to kill dangerous parasites such as Toxoplasma. I’m fascinated by the prospect that we may be able to use their weaponry to instead treat other maladies.

Microbes as Medicine

Ever since scientists realized that microscopic organisms can cause illness—what’s called the 19th-century germ theory of disease—humanity has been on a quest to keep infectious agents out of our bodies. Many people’s understandable aversion to germs may make the idea of adapting these microbial adversaries for therapeutic purposes seem counterintuitive.

But preventing and treating disease by co-opting the very microbes that threaten us has a history that long predates germ theory. As early as the 1500s, people in the Middle East and Asia noted that those lucky enough to survive smallpox never got infected again. These observations led to the practice of purposefully exposing an uninfected person to the material from an infected person’s pus-filled sores—which unbeknownst to them contained weakened smallpox virus—to protect them from severe disease.

This concept of inoculation has yielded a plethora of vaccines that have saved countless lives.

Viruses, bacteria, and parasites have also evolved many tricks to penetrate organs such as the brain and could be retooled to deliver drugs into the body. Such uses could include viruses for gene therapy and intestinal bacteria to treat a gut infection known as C. diff.

Why Can’t We Just Take a Pill for Brain Diseases?

Pills offer a convenient and effective way to get medicine into the body. Chemical drugs such as aspirin or penicillin are small and easily absorbed from the gut into the bloodstream.

Biologic drugs such as insulin or semaglutide, on the other hand, are large and complex molecules that are vulnerable to breaking down in the stomach before they can be absorbed. They are also too big to pass through the intestinal wall into the bloodstream.

All drugs, especially biologics, have great difficulty penetrating the brain due to the blood-brain barrier. The blood-brain barrier is a layer of cells lining the brain’s blood vessels that acts like a gatekeeper to block germs and other unwanted substances from gaining access to neurons.

Toxoplasma Offers Delivery Service to Brain Cells

Toxoplasma parasites infect all animals, including humans. Infection can occur in multiple ways, including ingesting spores released in the stool of infected cats or consuming contaminated meat or water. Toxoplasmosis in otherwise healthy people produces only mild symptoms but can be serious in immunocompromised people and to gestating fetuses.

Unlike most pathogens, Toxoplasma can cross the blood-brain barrier and invade brain cells. Once inside neurons, the parasite releases a suite of proteins that alter gene expression in its host, which may be a factor in the behavioral changes it causes in infected animals and people.

In a new study, a global team of researchers hijacked the system Toxoplasma uses to secrete proteins into its host cell. The team genetically engineered Toxoplasma to make a hybrid protein, fusing one of its secreted proteins to a protein called MECP2, which regulates gene activity in the brain—in effect, giving the MECP2 a piggyback ride into neurons. Researchers found that the parasites secreted the MECP2 protein hybrid into neurons grown in a petri dish as well as in the brains of infected mice.

A genetic deficiency in MECP2 causes a rare brain development disorder called Rett syndrome. Gene therapy trials using viruses to deliver the MECP2 protein to treat Rett syndrome are underway. If Toxoplasma can deliver a form of MECP2 protein into brain cells, it may provide another option to treat this currently incurable condition. It also may offer another treatment option for other neurological problems that arise from errant proteins, such as Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s disease.

The Long Road Ahead

The road from laboratory bench to bedside is long and filled with obstacles, so don’t expect to see engineered Toxoplasma in the clinic anytime soon.

The obvious complication in using Toxoplasma for medical purposes is that it can produce a serious, lifelong infection that is currently incurable. Infecting someone with Toxoplasma can damage critical organ systems, including the brain, eyes, and heart.

However, up to one-third of people worldwide currently carry Toxoplasma in their brain, apparently without incident. Emerging studies have correlated infection with increased risk of schizophrenia, rage disorder, and recklessness, hinting that this quiet infection may be predisposing some people to serious neurological problems.

The widespread prevalence of Toxoplasma infections may also be another complication, as it disqualifies many people from using it for treatment. Since the billions of people who already carry the parasite have developed immunity against future infection, therapeutic forms of Toxoplasma would be rapidly destroyed by their immune systems once injected.

In some cases, the benefits of using Toxoplasma as a drug delivery system may outweigh the risks. Engineering benign forms of this parasite could produce the proteins patients need without harming the organ—the brain—that defines who we are.

[morgue-ratt]

Fear Itself

a (somewhat belated) birthday gift for @darklylucid

Jonathan Crane x reader // 1.6k

You've been selected as Dr Crane's latest guinea pig! Yay!

tw// syringes, experiments, bondage, fear toxin, nsfw, this is my first time writing for Dr Crane,

THE scratching of his pencil has permeated into your dreams, now you were not free of him even in sleep. Dr Crane is always immersed in his work, always writing something, the pencil always scratching. You don’t know how long you’ve been here, or even where here is. You maybe had some idea at first but that had been weeks ago, now the only thing your conscious mind had to cling to was him. Dr Crane, the Scarecrow.  

He is working on something big and for it, his chemical weapons must be sharpened to a horrifying edge. Only the best for the Bat. The colors of the toxin vary from orange to yellow to green, the doses change. Sometimes the injections go into your arm, neck or leg. Sometimes, he fits a face mask over your mouth and nose and just sits back as you’re forced to breathe in the gaseous state of uncut terror. The duration changes, it varies from a few minutes to long hours screaming your vocal cords raw. No matter what, the good doctor seems content to sit back and watch. The only thing that doesn’t change is you. His unwilling assistant.  

Your body is covered in needle pricks and track marks. Your cheeks shine with dried tears that Crane hasn’t bothered to wipe away. One of his formulas had made you hallucinate things crawling under your skin, leading you to scratch your arms until you bled and then some. Another had filled you with blind panic and you had kicked Crane so hard in the chest he had deemed it necessary to wrestle you into a strait jacket. Now, as he strips away your sanity with each round of treatment, you can only lean against the wall of the Scarecrow’s makeshift lab.  

“Did you hear me?” Your head lolls to the side and you try to hide your face in your shoulder. He’s standing above you now, towering over you. “You’re awake,” He says. He has to tell you these things, otherwise you’d have no way of knowing. The syringe in his left hand catches the low light. Orange this time. The last one was green. The one before that... you can’t remember.  

The good doctor kneels in front of you. He takes your jaw in his hand so he can look at you, stare directly into your eyes and though you know it’s purely for diagnostic purposes, you don’t like it. “You are awake,” He repeats. Crane moves the syringe closer, and you pull away from his grip so fast you hit your head on the wall behind you. He lets out a sigh; “None of that,” He threads lithe fingers through your hair, gently scraping your scalp, and pulls your head to the side. You cry out as the needle pricks your neck. “There we go, nice and easy,” He says, his voice completely devoid of all emotion.  

Your heart begins to accelerate. This part stays the same. Your vision is going dark around the edges, you twist in the strait jacket; trying to escape the dread crashing around you. What will you see? Monsters? A family member? Will disembodied laughter fill your head? The walls close in? Or will it just be blackness, blinding you until he deems it time to administer the antidote? You start to hyperventilate.  

Crane lets go of your hair and leans back, watching you closely. His face begins to contort, twisting into something somehow even more vile. In your mind’s eye, you see his face stitched into burlap, a horrible creation of the doctor and the Scarecrow. His mouth is somehow both stitches and far too many teeth. You turn away and the horrible face is still there, a monstrous patchwork with eyes gleaming orange no matter where you look. Your blood is rushing in your ears, you barely hear it when he asks; “What do you see?” 

You shake your head.  

“What do you see?” The voice is horrible, it’s like its sending glass through your veins, it comes from everywhere. Crane reaches for your face, and you cringe, pushing yourself into the wall behind you. It’s ike you’re in a kaleidoscope, his hands are everywhere, reaching for you. He takes your face again and the need to scream grows in your chest like fire. “Tell me,” 

“No... nothing,” You say.  

He waves his hand in front of your face, and you flinch. “Tell me,” 

The distorted image of him is almost pulsating in beat with your heart. You can’t focus on anything except the fact you don’t want him to touch you. You barely hear your own voice through your own thundering pulse; “Scarecrow,” 

You can tell that he’s smiling, the mess of burlap and skin spreads in such a way that indicates his pleasure in this answer. “Scarecrow? Are you afraid of the Scarecrow?” He touches you, bringing his scarred hand to cup your cheek and you let out a short scream as though his touch burns you. His laughter shakes your bones. You haven’t heard him laugh since you’ve been here. You bury your face in your shoulder as the laughter echoes in your head. Crane runs his hand through your hair, his touch is gentle. Soft.  

A shudder runs through your body all the same.  

If he has been testing you all this time, tonight you finally have the right answer; gone is the apathetic doctor who gives you your medicine and watches with detached curiosity; now Crane is leaning in close, enjoying the way you flinch and relishing when a fresh wave of tears stream down your cheeks. It’s all for him, after all. He brushes the hair out of your eyes so he can better see your face contorted in terror, he holds you in place so he can enjoy every micro expression with that horrible grin. These almost sweet gestures are so at odds with the hot, all- consuming dread racing through your veins just as the toxin does.  

 Crane takes every excuse to touch you just to see you flinch and cry out in protest, you can’t do much else but even if you weren’t restrained you don’t know if you’d have it in you to do anything but cower. This toxin was designed to take down people much braver than you. You are no Batman.  

You feel his fingers ghost against the column of your throat and you jerk back, toppling over and falling to the floor. Your head is swimming, and you feel Crane lean over you, positioning himself on top of you. Your fear... and knowing you’re afraid of him. It’s addicting. He holds you still with one hand while his other goes for the throat, checking your pulse with his middle and forefinger. “Look at you,” His voice has taken on a purring quality and your drug addled mind makes sure to compensate, the thing above you has a mouth full of blood stained canines and deadly sharp claws like an animal, playing with his prey before the final strike. Your fear is crashing around you as Crane leans forward, pinning your body with his own. He’s trying to get as close to your eyes as possible, he’s all you see.  

You have stopped screaming, opting instead to cry and twist in the jacket, the straps digging in sharply into soft flesh. You’re convinced you’re being flayed as the rough canvas rubs your skin raw. Your breath catches in your throat as the strap between your legs goes a little higher. Crane’s grin spreads across his face as he takes account of this reaction. As you continue to struggle, you do nothing but push yourself to the line between horror and neediness. Arousal is arousal and you’re having trouble distinguishing right now.  

“Oh dear,” Crane chides. He’s all you can see; your vision has been narrowed to a pinprick. “Is someone getting their lines crossed?” You feel his hand pushing the strap further into your sex and you can’t help but moan as you grind yourself into it. “Do you want more?” 

Yes. No. More what? More teasing? More fear? More pain? It’s like your mind is breaking. Panic spikes in your chest, wetness pools between your legs. It feels good, you want to be anywhere else. “More...” You are more aware of your lips moving than the fact you are speaking. The hand disappears from the apex of your legs, and you complain; “No...” 

Crane takes care as he unbuckles the strap going through your legs. He’s amused, he can tell his toxin had had... a rare effect on you. “My, my,” You don’t have it in you to be ashamed. His fear toxin had reduced you to your base instincts. You somehow feel disconnected from your body while also being painfully aware that he isn’t touching you. You don’t even think as you spread your legs slightly. Your rational mind is eclipsed but when this is over, you’ll tell yourself it was the toxin that was making you act like this.  

You sigh when his hand returns, you watch him with lidded eyes. It’s hard to believe the thing before you even resembled a human being. Instead, there is a demonic face that looks like something Mary Shelley would come up with; stitches and teeth and eyes glowing orange like the fires of Hell. You don’t care. His thin fingers are making you moan.  

It’s hard to say how long you were lying on the floor with the good doctor. The entire time you feel like you’re on the edge of something while your heart beats madly in your chest and your blood rushes in your ears. Time ebbs and flows, it feels like it takes hours but you’re close and you couldn’t have lasted that long.  

You finally reach the crest, and you arch your back, chasing his fingers as you go over. The pleasure has taken over the horror, at least for now, but you still scream. Crane’s laugh surrounds you, eating through your flesh to your bones like maggots.

[officialpenisenvy]

the substance was needless to say a fairly gross movie (obviously on purpose and i liked that element) but a part that pissed me off fr was how when sue kept dipping into elizabeth's spinal fluid the wound just got more and more purulent and festering. like girl you're putting that shit inside your body PLEASE disinfect that otherwise you're just injecting pus

[proofingwatersg]

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[the-bensolos]

Like you’re kidding, it’s actually comical the lack of justice the lack of accountability. T*rump sent Covid tests to Pu*tin during the height of the pandemic while the American people were DYING. He was literally spreading misinformation and downplaying the pandemic, telling people to inject bleach???? Saying it was just a bad flu????? All the while sending test machines to Pu*tin. Machines that were needing in hospitals machines that were in short supply. Like it’s not new information he doesn’t care about the American people but like the LEVEL, the magnitude of this…and yet…? Like, we all have to show up at the ballot box and swiftly kick this mf’er out once and for all.

[leakproofservices]

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[shini--chan]

If Request are still open, England handling the aftermath of a punishment gone too far. I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort of any kind. Maybe he left her in isolation for too long due to a overdrawn meeting or perhaps he notices that she isn't healing as fast as normal. Would be intresting to see if any of his old insecurities creep up to haunt him while he cares for his darling. Also your work is amazing!! 😊

Thank you :). This is going to be an interesting one.

Yandere England – Overcompensation

Arthur sighed as he set the tableau down on the night-stand next to you. Your eye lids fluttered as you stirred from your sleep, and you let out a drowsy moan, face turning towards him. You didn’t open your eyes, tired and drained as you were.

With a wrinkled of his nose, he flipped back the thick duvet and pulled it back to reveal your bandaged legs. Carefully, he pulled the closest one towards him and cautiously began unwrapping the dressings. The later layers were soaked in blood and water pus, and the skin around the open gash was red and yellow from inflammation and iodine solution.

The needle slid soundlessly into the exposed flesh and he pressed down the plunger of the syringe. You groaned softly as the penicillin entered your system, and before you could shift in your half awake state, he grasped your leg firmly. Eyes snapped open and you hissed, instinctively trying your best to bat him away. In response, he simply tightened his grip, making you wince in acute pain.

“I’m just making sure you get better, so don’t squirm. If you do, I’ll just end up hurting you, and I don’t want that”, he reprimanded you.

“You put me down there in the first place”, you slurred in retort, the words quiet and hoarse. It made him wince to be reminded of his mistakes, of his transgressions. Thankfully, he were still to weak and in fever to really register his small slip ups.

“And I’m also treating you now. If you behave, I’ll give you some coca after dinner”, he deflected as he injected the other dose of antibiotics in your other leg. As it was, you were to weak and out of it to take pills. Besides, this would cure you faster.

This would erase the guilt he felt faster. Sometimes he still forgot how fragile mortals could be.