#uv station
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boxwinebaddie · 4 months ago
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alright, i am still working on my random self indulgent guidance counsellor jersey hcs ( the kids call him Mr. Bro, which is so iconique to me, like i think the fifth graders were just memeing on him, but it accidentally stuck because the littles heard it and…if that’s ur name once, it’s ur name forever. it’s also Sick, tyvm! )
but anyways here are some random highlights with no context, he is the funniest man alive to me.
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-okay, re: this one, he also puts his hair up everyday ( could u imagine that man’s hair being down, children would be like u look like ARIEL! and get nothing done ) btw, it’s virtually the same dress shirt, blazer, sweater, slacks, gold stan s/star of david necklace stack moment w/ the glasses and the chain…but, to keep it cute, he does wear a different silly tie everyday with a different color pattern or vibe going on. he does get sent a lot of goofy ass ties as presents; it’s a w.
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-mr. bro does just sound like sheila broflovski and i am obsessed with him. he’ll worry about you all day to the point of being physically sick and see you in the hallway and go ‘well clearly, ya don't need the noise cancelling headphones 'cause you're tunin' me out just fine!'
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-he's so cute w/ the little people, he is like aaaa please don't hurt me, spare me, o great and powerful one, i've got two kids and two strays at home ( rip sparky and curb are his kids jysk, annoying rockstar fiance and slightly demonic kindergarten matilda are the strays <3 )
-small domestic ravesey sidebar: jk does wear a cd pin on his blazer sometimes and has a picture of stan on his desk and when he shows kids it and they gasp ( bc stan is extremely beautiful and perfect ) he's like 'oh, god! i know! he's Hideous, right?!' shdlksdd amazing
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-mr. bro says acab is my favorite mr. b hc
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angelnumbers · 2 years ago
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@vhshorror archive moodboard :-0
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roses-and-elixir · 4 months ago
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miss-floral-thief · 4 months ago
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I’m not sure if any leftovers maybe I can go to the gas station
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gobeautysalon · 10 months ago
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Elevate your salon's functionality and style with our Hairdressing Trolley Holders and Barber Station Salon Furniture. Designed for convenience and organization, our trolley holders offer ample storage for hairdressing tools, ensuring easy access during treatments.
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leviabeat · 1 year ago
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Via Rob's Instagram
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swordsandholly · 6 months ago
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Fancy
Ch 1: Here’s Your One Chance | Next | Ao3
MDNI
Vampire! Poly! 141 x Plus size! Fem! Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.
Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.
A permanent darkness rests over the city. Cold, too. Despite living here your whole life you’ve never quite adjusted to the artificial nature of it - to the shadow hanging above the miles and miles of city and the constant chill on your skin.
Really, you aren’t meant to be here. This place isn’t built for humans despite the mass that live within the confines of the city’s dome. It’s made for creatures - beings of the night that stalk and rule. The air has become rotten in the lower neighborhoods over a century due to pollution and overpopulation. It will turn your lungs black before the age of five without the proper protection.
Apartment buildings are crowded and decent living conditions are hard to come by. Many have a waitlist longer than the human lifespan. Most operate on a dorm system - at least one person per room. Randomly assigned of course, based entirely on who can pay the rent. You’ve lucked out enough to earn a shitty studio to yourself. It’s cracked and crumbling but the locks are tight and it has a window - even if the view is just a building across the alleyway.
You squeeze into a black mini dress, tying your hair up to show off the double string of pearls on your neck. They’re the nicest thing you own - the only thing worthy of this club. The only thing that can project the image needed to get proper tips. Red lipstick as a final touch. It’s corny, you know, but the vampire clients are always suckers for it. Pun intended.
This job is important. There can’t be a hair out of place. This is your chance. Your one chance to make enough money to get out of the slums. To at least make it to the middle city. You can practically hear the grime on the sidewalk as you make your way toward the metro station. Dirt and debris so caked into the very air down here that you have to wear a respirator as you go. It’ll leave marks when you first take it off, but they usually disappear by the time you’ve made it from the depot to the club.
You don’t bother with sitting on the train. Hell will freeze over before you chance catching whatever new disease has grown in that Petri dish. Instead you join the rest of the patrons in awkwardly standing in the center of the cart, damn near falling over when the train lurches to begin its journey from the slums to the upper city. There are actual names for the two areas, but nobody uses them anymore.
The respirator makes a hissing sound as you remove it after stepping out of the train. The cool, clean air of the upper city fills your lungs. It’s satisfying in a way its sticky, filtered sister could never be. The faux fur of your cropped coat tickles a bit as you walk, blown by that strange breeze that never seems to stop in the upper city. The one that blows all the grime and smog downhill.
The club sits square in central downtown - the bottom level of a historical hotel. It’s an elegant building. Red with curled metal accents over the windows and doors. Modeled after the ancient art nouveau movement. It sparkles underneath the artificial LEDs of the city - all signs and glowing windows. You can always tell where the humans are, catching glimpses of that unmistakable glow only a UV light gives off.
You duck down the alley behind the hotel. Grimy and dark, the complete opposite of the front entrance. Your heels clack on the concrete loudly - echoing off the hard walls of the building surrounding you.
It’s easy enough to slip into the routine of your job. Going back and forth to the bartender, carrying various drinks and placating the egos of cowardly men and the vampires they lie to themselves about being equal to. You can see the hunger in their eyes when you tilt your head, exposing more of your neck to the light. When your wrists just pass their noses as you set down their glasses.
It’s hard work. Long hours and more days of the week than you would like, but it pays enough for you to afford your little apartment and save some for your future.
“Hey! New girl!” The owner barks at you as you gently set your tray back into the stack to be washed.
You whirl on your heel. Shit, did you fuck up? Ruin everything? Your mind runs through every interaction over the course of the night - every comment, every stilted moment. “Y-yes, sir?”
“Need you as a Companion.” He stands in front of you, the pinstripes of his suit warping over his massive crossed arms. The wrinkle in his nose makes his mustache twitch.
“C-companion!” You squeak. “I’m not-“
“We had a call out. Need you to take the private booth in the back.”
Your eyes are saucers - heart beating so hard you almost can’t hear his words. You don’t know what to make of this. His words are harsh and cut right though you, but the prospect they hold…
“You paying attention?” He grunts.
Your voice shakes. “Just… why me?”
“You match their preference.” Its blunt. Uncaring. Not that you would ever expect much sympathy from the owner of a place like this - feeding girls to vampires and their kin.
Generally, you’re not the type to be preferred - too big and soft for most. It’s what kept you as a server exclusively, you’re sure. Companion is such a major step up, too. You haven’t had any training. You never thought you’d get there - only a few girls make it from Server to Companion. To have it by happenstance…
With a deep breath you remind yourself that this is temporary. Just for tonight. You are acting as a replacement, nothing more. If you pull this off maybe you’ll get enough tips to finally replace the air filtration in your apartment. Maybe you can even get an overhead UV light. Oh, wouldn’t that be lovely!
Another tray is shoved into your hands. Is this… actual gold? Ornate designs line the outer rim - all weaving in and out of each other inlaid with iridescent mother of pearl. It’s cold on your hands and so shiny you catch your reflection in it before the bartender sets a bottle of wine and four glasses on it. You’re fairly certain between the wine and the tray you are holding upwards of four thousand dollars a in your hands. It takes everything to keep your hands from trembling.
You slowly head for the back booth - just beyond the main floor of the bar. It’s far more quiet here. The music from the floor muffled by distance. There are only a few private booths and they are only ever occupied by the city’s elite. The top of the top. You pause at the heavy, velvet burgundy curtain separating you and your clients for tonight. They could be anyone.
You hope they aren’t the type to get rough.
Balancing the tray on one hand, you use the other the push the heavy curtain to the side - entire body alert and tense as your eyes land on the four men sitting around the rounded booth. Their eyes meet yours, and you freeze. A shiver runs down your spine.
They’re beautiful in that way only vampires can be. Untouchable. Marble-esque. Eyes clear and bright even in the low light of the booth - that sheen of night vision apparent. Lions staring down their prey and you, who walked into the den willingly.
“Good evening.” It takes everything to keep your voice steady. To slip back into that comfortable customer service headspace you’ve curated over the years. “I’ll be your Companion tonight.”
“What happened t’ Cherry?” The man on the outer right side of the booth asks. His arm is slung carelessly over the back of the booth, body slack and comfortable.
“She was unfortunately unable to come in tonight.” You say softly, carefully sliding the tray onto the table. “If I’m not to your standards-“
“Well, now, none of us said that.” A man with an imperial beard smiles. It softens his face - makes him look less like stone. “What’s your name, dove?”
“Fancy.” You murmur. It’s your chosen work name - based on a song your mother used to play from a century ago. One of your earliest memories is her lifting you into her arms and spinning around to the song. All the workers names are single words. Easy to remember. Easy to request for returning quests.
“Fittin’.” The man to your left grins, bright blue eyes sparkling. His fangs catch the light - your hands tremble for a brief moment.
“Do you know who we are?” The masked man beside him asks. His voice rumbles through your nerves, all the way into your bones. You can hardly look at him - the skull covering the top half of his face makes your gut churn.
Should you know them? Oh, fuck, you probably should. Vampires live forever - their names and legacies travel across centuries. Millenia. It’s going to give you away. You’re just a low class human from the slums. You don’t know Vampires from the uppers.
The illusion of luxury only goes so far.
“It’s not a trick question.” The man to your right smiles gently, tilting his head to the side.
“No, sir.”
“Well,” The one with the beard sits a little straighter. “I’m John Price and these are my… confidants. Cohorts. Kyle Garrick, Johnny MacTavish and Simon Riley.” He gestures to each as he goes.
John Price… John Price… Nothing comes to mind. Nothing about any of them, for that matter.
“Lovely to meet you.” You smile pleasantly, slipping back into the script. Swallowing roughly and steadying yourself, you reach for the bottle and slowly pouring a tester amount into the four glasses. “Tonight we have a vintage red from 2089.”
John hums, swirling the glass before taking a sip. His eyes glow in the low bar light. “You remember the 80’s, Simon?”
“Which one?” The makes you pause. How many 80’s could there be?
John laughs, whole and hearty. Little crows feet appear in the corners of his eyes. “Which d’you think?”
“I remember the blood.” The masked man mutters. He doesn’t look at John - dark eyes locked on you. You keep up the well trained smile. Neutral, comfortable.
“Och, ye would.” Johnny scoffs, taking his own glass after John gives you a nod to fill the four properly. “Cannae ever remember the good.”
“Well what’s your finest memory then Johnny?”
“There’s was this lass… think her name was Cassandra. Had the biggest tits and-“
“Enough of that. Theres a lady present.” John waves his hand. To your surprise, Johnny actually listens despite looking muffed about it. You can’t help but snort. Lady. As if.
How old are they, anyway? They look young - especially Johnny and Kyle. Definitely below thirty when they were turned. John obviously leads but that doesn’t necessarily mean he turned the rest of them. They could have just come together over the years. Vampire covens vary heavily as to why they came together. Sometimes friendship, sometimes relation, sometimes just convenience.
Simon is still staring you down, hooking a thumb under his mask to raise it just over the end of his nose. Scarred lips sip from his glass.
“Come sit, luv.” Kyle pats the booth beside him.
You snap out of your thoughts at the prompt - moving to sit in the empty spot beside Kyle. The next thing you know hands are on your hips, passing you over until you’re sat square in the middle as if you weigh nothing. You know vampires are strong - you’ve gotten thrown around by your fair share in the slums, whether a mugging or fucking - but it still startles you. They could crush you with barely a flick of the wrist.
Fingers brush over your shoulders, tracing the shape of them before lowering to rest between your exposed shoulder blades. They’re cold and leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake.
“Tell us about yourself, hm?” John prompts.
“Oh, not much to tell.” You shrug and smile. “I’m from the city. Started here about a year ago-“
“How have we never seen ye then?” Johnny interrupts, eyes locked on your chest. “A bonnie thing like ye…”
“Well…” You raise your hand to your mouth like you would when whispering a secret. “I’m not supposed to tell but I’m actually a server, normally.”
“Oh, really?” Kyle leans his chin on his palm. “In a dress like that?”
“What’s wrong with my dress?” You huff, letting the pliant facade slip just enough to make yourself seem real. Just a little less doll like before you return to the script.
“Absolutely nothin’.” Simon hums beside you, eyes near black under the shadow of his mask.
Your face heats. Client compliments never get to you and you’re not sure what about his feels so different. All of their attention is so intense. It dives under your skin and burrows deep in your marrow.
“So, seeing as you implied I should know who you are-“ You tilt your head and meeting John’s eye, “who are you?”
John chuckles, leaning close. “Oh, no one important. Contractors. Independently employed.”
“Ah, so, criminals.” You laugh.
“If you say so.”
“I can’t exactly judge.” You lean in as well, shoulder pressing against his broad chest. The material of his suit is soft and thick. High quality. “I mean, look where I am, hm?”
“Are ye a criminal, lassie?” Johnny grins at you, tilting his head. How he makes a mo-hawk cute is beyond you.
“Shh.” You press a finger to your lips.
It’s easy enough to look sultry, to play the part, to mindlessly flirt. Easy enough to fall into the simple back and forth. Scripted. Basic. Nothing out of the ordinary. They’re just clients at the end of the day, even if they have more money and power than your usual crowd.
You carefully refill each of their glasses. You can feel their eyes on you - boring through your very being. It takes more concentration than you’d like to keep your breath from hitching when John’s hand rests on your upper thigh. You lean forward, pushing each glass back to their respective owners.
Johnny takes your hand before you can retract it, placing gentle kisses from your palm to your wrist. He sighs shakily, teeth catching your skin ever so slightly.
“Johnny.” The masked man rumbles in warning.
“Not gonnae bite, LT… she just smells incredible.” Johnny murmurs against your wrist.
“Have you ever been bitten, dove?” John asks, eyes half lidded as he stares you down. That feeling comes back.
Prey. You’re just prey.
“N-no…” You shake your head, voice smaller than you’d like. You’re not supposed to. Clients aren’t allowed to bite the girls here - it’s not one of those clubs - but in reality you’re at your mercy. To book one of these rooms they surely have the money to pay whoever necessary to do whatever they might want with you.
“Donnae look so afraid.” Johnny chuckles.
“We’re not goin’ t’bite.” Kyle leans forward. “Just curious.”
“Oh…” You whisper. Johnny drops your wrist and you pray that they don’t notice how quickly you retract it.
“Alright boys, time for business.” John sighs. He suddenly grabs your chin, turning you to face him. It’s a light touch, not too rough but solid. His pupils dilate and yours with them. “You’ll forget everything we say from now until I snap my fingers.”
The next thing you know you’re blinking blearily, sitting in John’s lap with your legs across Kyle’s. The younger man’s hand rests on your leg, thumb gently stroking your ankle as you come back to sentience.
It’s like coming up from the undertow and getting your first gasp of air.
“There she is.” Johnny murmurs, smiling softly.
You were compelled - you know that much. It’s disorienting. You rub the corner of your eye, purposefully evening your breath. At least your clothes are all still in place. You don’t feel… touched. Not bitten either. A choked sigh escapes you against your will, hands trembling in your lap.
“You’re alright, dove.” John coos, cold breath puffing against your neck. A shiver runs down your spine. How much time has passed? When… what… “Can be hard t’come out of it, hm?”
“I’m okay...” You whisper.
“Have some water.” Kyle pushes a glass toward you. The concern on his face feels foreign.
A large, empty decanter of scotch sits in the center of the table accompanied by several empty glasses. That’s the closest hint you have to how long you’ve been here. You take the glass of water shakily and sip, leaving an imprint of red lipstick on the rim.
John continues to coo and soothe down your hair. His other hand travels down to rest on your hip, holding you in place against him. It’s strange… this feeling. You’ve been compelled before briefly but it wasn’t like this. John has to be strong. Old. He’s been around a while to have that kind of power - for it to be this difficult for you to come out of the haze. It’s taking more concentration to keep from crying than you’d like.
Stranger, though, is the way they watch you. The way John works you back to reality. Most vampires would have been inappropriate while you were gone, wouldn’t bother with the borderline aftercare needed when coming out from under their spell. Most would have left you slumped in the booth - drained of blood and pleasure - laughing as they went.
You clear your throat, sitting up a little straighter and gathering your wits. “Can I get you gentleman anything else?”
They share a look, one that you can’t quite interpret.
“You’re sure you’re alright?” John asks, voice low.
You look up at him with big eyes. Childlike, almost, staring up in wonder. It’s so strange how vampires aren’t quite white - they just lack the redness of life. The pink under the skin that signifies a beating heart and limited life span.
“I’m sure.”
John presses closer, breath caressing the shell of your ear. “Thank you for being so gracious f’us, tonight.
“Always…” There’s an honestly behind the word that startles you. A craving deep in your bones to prove yourself worthy of him and his men.
Strange.
“We best be on our way.” Simon rumbles, prompting Johnny to let him out of the booth.
John’s eyes flick between yours briefly before he moves you off of his lap with the gentle touch one might use when handling fine china. As much as you want to stay there, dazed and still coming down, you have work to do. So, you stand after them and begin slowly gathering the empty glasses on the tray. They feel heavier in your hand the normal.
A cold touch runs up your back and you freeze. Fingers trace the curve of your spine. You straighten, turning slowly only to meet those soft blue eyes again. John takes your hand, eyes alight with something you don’t understand. “I’ll tell the owner he’s wasting you as a servin’ girl. You’re made for more.”
Before you can even possibly decide how to respond, he’s gone. Disappeared through the curtain and into the forever night. Something crinkles in your hand. When you look down, slowly opening your fingers, the contents make your heart jump into your throat.
Cash. A massive roll of neatly banded cash.
How much is this? A thousand? More?
With frightened eyes and slippery hands you tuck the cash into the secret pocket of your coat. Having that much cash on your person is so out of your wheelhouse - out of the realm of possibility- you don’t know how to react.
You didn’t even get to say thank you.
Your mind whirls as you finish up your shift, eyes glazed over while slipping on your coat. The other girls look off put. A few whisper and stare.
What do they think you did?
Then again, you think as you brace yourself for the lurching and squealing of the metro, there isn’t any way to know what happened. Not unless one of the vampires tells you, and good luck prying any information out of one of them. Even if they tell you, they can just make you forget all over again.
How did you behave? Were you the same as always? Were you an entirely different person?
Some people forget themselves when under compulsion - every inhibition thrown to the wind carelessly. You need your inhibitions. They keep your job secure and yourself safe. You can’t afford carelessness.
The walk back home is tense. That small bulk in your pocket burns a hole though you as your mind runs with every possibility of what might have happened. What you might have done to earn such a massive tip. It can’t have been dignified, could it?
There’s no way they just like you. That’s not how vampires are.
It takes everything to motivate yourself to actually take off your clothing and jewelry before falling into bed. However long they had you, it drained you. Left you tired and shaky as you crawl under the thick bundle of quilts that make up for the lack of heating in your home.
Your eyes meet the wad of cash that barely fit in the inner pocket of your coat. It feels like a threat. Use me well or lose me forever! Make me count because you’ll never see me again!
For now, at least, you can bask in it.
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hurtspideyparker · 4 months ago
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Avengers Beach Day !
Tony is under a large beach umbrella, sat on a comfortable chair in bright red swim shorts and a flowy floral cover up. He has a large cooler with drinks, sandwiches and pickles. Also chips. Pepper is beside him reading a book about sustainability.
Natasha is in a simple black two piece swimsuit with large sunglasses, soaking in the sun.
"If anybody stares at my ass I will drown you and make sure your body never washes ashore," she warns as she lays out a towel and stretches out in the sun.
Peter and Thor are the first in the water, but only after Steve makes sure everyone has sunscreen on. "The water actually amplifies the harmful UV rays, so you should reapply in an hour. Don't worry, I'll remind you."
Peter and Clint tell Thor about chicken fighting, which delights him, and they are able to convince Steve to join so they can play. Peter sits on Thor's shoulders, and Clint on Steve's. It takes 4 rounds before Clint realizes Peter is cheating by sticking to Thor so he won't fall down. Peter and Thor switch places, but Thor still wins every time because well... muscles.
-
Bruce sets himself up on a blanket with a book but ends up falling asleep within twenty minutes. He sleeps for 2 hours and gets severely sunburnt.
-
Sam and Bucky sit down in two matching chairs a respectable distance apart, sunglasses on. Bucky is completely still for so long that Sam peeks over to see if he's asleep, his body casting a shadow over the soldier.
"Sam, I swear to god."
"Alright alright just checking, don't get your panties in a twist!"
-
Steve ends up floating around in the water peacefully, spread out like a starfish, while Clint and Peter show off their underwater handstand abilities to Thor. When Thor tries one for himself he ends up kicking Steve in the face. Peter and Clint can't stop laughing while Thor apologizes.
-
Natasha eventually joins the boys in the water, in which Clint begs her to play chicken with him because "all these guys are cheating super freaks!"
Natasha gets on Steve's shoulder and Clint on Thor's.
Natasha wins every round.
Clint grumpily complains about losing for the next half hour until he's distracted by food. (Tony makes fun of him for being such a loser on the ride home and Clint doesn't stop talking about how all his friends are freaks for the next 3 days).
-
Tony calls everyone in for some snacks and drinks, and Peter shakes his wet hair out all over Tony.
"Hey, hey! Watch where you shake that thing, I will hold your sandwich hostage!"
"You can't go to the beach and not get wet Mr. Stark, you're so spoiled. I barely talked you out of bringing that big ugly tent, it was practically a house."
"That's it. Thor, have another ham and cheese," he says as he tosses the sandwich to the god.
"No wait I take it back! Thor stop that's mine!"
-
Afterwards Peter finds a spot with damp sand to start building a castle.
"What are you, five?" Sam asks.
"Hey! I just found these old buckets on the shore and thought it would be fun."
"Mhm, keep telling yourself that boy scout."
"Like you could do any better!"
They stare at each other for a moment.
"Imma 'bout to whoop your ass so hard kid," Sam says as he snatches a bucket from Peter and gets to work a few feet away.
-
Bruce rolls over in his sleep like a gas station hot dog. His other side gets sunburnt.
-
"Kid, I'm ready for a swim. Kid?"
"Not now Mr. Stark, I'm in a sand castle building competition!"
Tony stares down at the teenager with his wild curls covered in sand, filling up a neon pink bucket.
"... move over. Where's your moat? You can't expect to win without a moat."
"The water just absorbs back into the ground," Peter says with a frown.
"Hm. We need insulation. Go back into the water and get stones and kelp. And driftwood for the drawbridge. How much time do we have? Can I get my tools?"
"Hey!" Sam yells, "you can't have help! And definitely no genius engineering toolkit."
"Fine, no tools. But I'm allowed Mr. Stark! Just get someone to help you too," Peter replies as he runs off into the water.
"Son of a- Barnes! Get your ass over here! We need to teach this spiderling some manners."
-
"You should reapply your sunscreen," Steve says while hovering near Natasha lying on her towel.
"Touch me and lose your hand."
-
"Tony, the sun's going to set soon, let's go for a nice walk down the beach."
"Not now Pepper, I gotta finish this brickwork," he says with his face millimeters from the sand as he chisels.
"I wanna go for a romantic walk with my partner. The sunset doesn't wait for anyone, even you Tony Stark."
"Mhm, sure after I finish this battlement."
Pepper huffs.
"Whatever, I'll just go with Natasha."
-
"BRUCE, YOU DIDN'T REAPPLY!"
"Wuh- ow, OW OW OW OW OW OW-"
-
"Okay, times up!" Peter announces.
Tony, Bucky, Peter and Sam all stand up. They step back, scrutinizing each other's work.
"Well obviously ours is better. We have a functional drawbridge," Tony is the first to point out.
"You guys are such freaking nerds. Ours is prettier, and taller. Buck found these beautiful baby conch shells," Sam points out.
"We need judges. Thor!" Peter calls out.
-
"Let's stop here for a second, I need to buy some aloe vera," Natasha points out as she and Pepper pass by a small street of local shops near the beach front.
"Oh, are you feeling burned?"
"No it's for Bruce."
"Now that I think about it, I haven't seen him much today."
Natasha keeps her smirk to herself, purchasing the soothing lotion before heading back out to the street.
"Maybe on our way home we can get some ice cream," Natasha says as she points out the shop. "Bet Cap would like some butter pecan."
Pepper giggles.
-
"Ah, finally, Nat! We need a third judge for our sandcastle competition," Sam waves her over as she and Pepper rejoin the group.
"You have Bruce, Thor, and Steve, what do you need me for?"
"Steve is corrupted!" Peter chimes in.
"He's a partisan of the veteran best friends party. For all we know Bucky used his secret Cap knowledge to rig their castle to the ice pop's liking," Tony explains.
Peter sets his glare onto the man in question, "bet you just go crazy for conch, don't you Steve."
"I'd really rather not be apart of this conversation," Steve tells them.
Bucky turns to the women. "Thor voted for us, and Bruce voted for them. You're the tie-breaker Nat."
Natasha hands the bottle of lotion to Bruce who thanks her sheepishly as she steps up to the castles. She circles them slowly, ducking her head and taking in every crevice.
"Functional?" she asks, pointing at the drawbridge.
"Yes ma'am," Tony smirks.
She steps up to the opposing castle.
"You buy these?" she points to the sea shells adorning the castle.
Bucky lifts his chin, "nope, swam for em. All the work was my own, just short of evicting the previous tennants."
Natasha nods before stepping back.
"I've made my decision. The winner..." they all hold their breath, even Pepper and Steve who have no stakes in the the competition.
"Is Tony and Peter."
Cheers errupt, along with the very loud complaining of the two losers.
"Oh come on man! Ours is bigger, and prettier!" Sam protests.
"Oh really Sam? Is size all that matters? Stark's is functional. I don't know about you but I like a little personality beneath the pretty pretty decorations."
Peter pumps his fists in the air with a "woohoo!" before launching himself at Natasha in tight hug.
"I knew I liked you," Tony interjects as he joins the pair's hug, placing a kiss on both Natasha and Peter's temple.
Bucky rolls his eyes at the gesture and hides an affectionate smile.
"Yeah yeah," Natasha chimes, "let's get out of here so you can buy us ice cream."
-
"What are you gonna go for Rogers? Butter pecan?"
Natasha and Pepper snicker at Tony's comment as they collect their own ice creams from the worker; a chocolate peanut butter cone and a raspberry and lemon sorbet respectively.
"Tony..."
"No, no, I got this. Butterscotch? Rum raisin? Pistachio?"
"I'll have you know my taste buds are very modern. Peter showed me this Thai place and now I'm a regular."
"I'll believe it when I see it," Tony says while grabbing his coffee ice cream.
-
"Kid you're making it too easy. You are genuinely a freaking toddler," Sam says when he spots Peter licking a bubblegum ice cream cone.
"If having a personality is childish then it's no wonder you got cookies and cream, ahembasicbitch." Peter coughs the insult out.
"How dare you, you overgrown Little Tikes ad-"
-
Bucky licks his mint chocolate chip ice cream contentedly in the back of the shop while he watches the others fight.
"What do you think they're on about now?" Clint asks from his left.
Bucky glances at the bubblegum cone in the archer's hand.
"No clue."
-
"AHAHHHAAH"
"What! Vanilla is the best flavour!" Steve tries to argue, although Tony's own laughter rings louder than all other conversation in the room.
"M-modern taste buds AH haha-"
-
Bruce watches with awe and slight concern as Thor happily licks his 3 scoop tall rocky road contentedly.
"You hungry man?"
"Aye, I do enjoy the mallow."
Bruce watches the tower lean in every direction, almost falling several times and looking more dismal with every lick.
He almost says something, but Thor always angles the cone perfectly just in time to save it. Instead, he watches silently while scooping a spoonful of cookie dough from his cup.
-
It seems they got the rest of their bickering out at the shop, as with tired and heat-soaked limbs they pile onto the jet for the ride home.
Tony looks back like a mom driving a mini-van.
"The baby's asleep," he smirks at Pepper who looks back at Peter.
The teenager is dead asleep, mouth wide open and head resting on Natasha's shoulder. She glares when she catches Tony's eyes on the pair and he looks away, glancing at the other passengers.
"I could've sworn Bruce's whole schtick was green. Is he rebranding to red?"
Steve looks over at Tony with a shameful pout, "he forgot to reapply."
Tony quirks an eyebrow but doesn't comment, settling back to cuddle with Pepper.
"Mission success," he whispers into her hairline with a soft kiss.
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incorrectbatfam · 6 months ago
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Ooh can we get headcanons for the batfam going camping?
Duke: Yo, Bruce—
Bruce: One second. Hey, Kate, where are you putting the grill?
Kate: As far away from you as possible.
Alfred: Likewise with the ingredients. We have a limited supply unless one of you plans on hunting.
Jason: *cocks his gun*
Damian: Only cowards kill animals. A true Robin uses his natural birdlike instinct to forage for edible plants.
Duke: Guys—
Steph: Last time we did that I ended up with a rash the size of New Jersey. Count me out.
Bruce: We packed enough. No need for hunting or foraging.
Cass, sadly: But I want to slurp river.
Selina: I'm not chaperoning if you do. You know how cats and water are.
Duke: Uh, guys—
Cullen, scratching a mosquito bite: Can someone please pass the bug spray?
Kate: It's in Bette's car and she's still at the last gas station.
Barbara: What about sunscreen? The UV index is off the charts.
Selina: I think Luke took when he went to the information center.
Carrie: Just stick next to a more enticing target.
Carrie: *crouches in Dick's shadow*
Dick, flipping his hair: What can I say? I'm irresistible.
Helena, annoyed: Are you just gonna stand there and look pretty or are you gonna help me pitch this tent?
Dick: I'll look pretty, thank you.
Harper: I got it, Helena. Boys, amirite?
Duke: Seriously, guys—
Bruce: Everyone, quiet!
Bruce: *does a headcount*
Bruce: Where's Tim?
Duke: Dangling off a cliff.
Bruce: WHAT?!?
Duke, shrugging: That's what I've been trying to tell you.
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paluding · 6 months ago
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MODDERS WANTED!
Maxis lost and found: Sims 2 werewolf faces?
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Nope, I didn't use any custom face templates or sliders to make this render. This werewolf face IS in the game! Once again, nothing to download here, at least not for now. Hopefully we can make this an actual thing. All the details and research under the cut 🐺
So I was digging through the Pets EP files the other day for a project I had in mind when I found these meshes:
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The "Arch" in the name caught my attention, because that's how the CAS face templates are named as well, so when I loaded the preview I found these really cool werewolf faces!
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That got me thinking… this was probably intended for the werewolf transformations, right? Looks like the devs scrapped this idea on the final Pets release. @/hypersaline already restored the werewolf fangs, and I was wondering if it would be possible to restore these faces too.
Are "temporary face sliders" overlays even a thing in this game? The closest interaction I can think of is the Plastic Surgery station and its preset faces for the failed surgeries, but those just create a new face in the genetic data of the Sim, which is permanent unless the player gives them another plastic surgery session. The ideal thing would be morphing the face with these "sliders" when they transform into werewolves, and then remove them once they go back to their human shape.
Anyway, I figured I could extract the meshes and see if I could preview the faces in Blender just to showcase them. The files are pretty broken, they don't even have a UV map and the vertex order is all over the place. So after some tedious vertex snapping shenaningans I kinda remade them in Blender. Here's how they all look, compared to the base second face template in the game:
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Adult Female Face (afArchLycan):
Adult Male Face (amArchLycan):
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Teen Female Face (tfArchLycan):
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Teen Male Face (tmArchLycan):
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No elder faces as far as I know, and obviously children werewolves aren't a thing in the vanilla game.
The modding skills needed to restore something like this (if it's even possible) are way out of my scope. So yeah, if any modder knows a trick or two about how to implement this face transformation back in the game and feels brave enough to give this a try, please count me in! My DMs are open. I'll be more than happy to help with anything I'm able to on the meshing department 🙇‍♂️
Until then, at least here's a showcase archived of what could have been for Sims 2 werewolves 🌝
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lovelookspretty · 3 months ago
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not so bad
college!rafe cameron x reader au
— in which rafe and y/n absolutely despise each other in public but crush in secret. rafe is failing his humanities class & is assigned y/n as his tutor . . . maybe all it took for this relationship to form was just a bit of forced proximity and some time.
warning(s): cuteness, lore, kisses
authors note: SORRY FOR THE LATE UPDATE but eeee we get a clear hint that y/n lived in figure 8 back home with rafe !! also in this au, rafe and y/n are aged down to 18-19 while everyone back home in obx are still 16
++ also sorry !! if u havent been added to the tag list yet ( even though uve asked ) its mostly been because i cant tag u. idk why tumblr isnt letting me but ill try to tag in comments for anyone who cant be tagged in my posts !!
one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine
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rafe had agreed to join you at the dining hall for breakfast alone to talk about last night. you’ve felt guilty since you read his message, but at the same time the sight of rafe going upstairs with that girl has you upset. you’re conflicted. you barely got any sleep last night because of it.
“i miss the waffles i’d have back home,” rafe was telling you as the two of you enter the dining hall and head straight for the food. “now it’s just sad.”
you look over at the waffle station that’s accompanied by a line of students. it’s usually this way and you can tell he means he doesn’t eat waffles anymore because of it.
“is there usually not a line leading to breakfast cooked by the private chef in your abundance of a home?” you ask him, and you approach the bagels to toast one.
“jealous?” rafe puzzles, to which you raise your eyebrows at.
“never that,” you say with a shake of your head, and you lean against the counter.
once you’ve collected all that you want to eat, you lead rafe to an empty table. the hall is loud and active, but you do your best to find something in a corner where there’s the least amount of people. you set your food down before settling down simultaneously.
“sorry for telling you to get out last night,” you start with, and you watch as rafe prepares his food. “i didn’t see your text ‘til after you fell asleep so . . . just wanted to talk today and hear you out.”
“thanks,” rafe mutters as he grabs his cup of juice, taking a gulp of it before placing it back where it was. he leans forward, crossing his arms on top of the table. “i’m assuming you saw that girl.”
“right.”
“that was . . . someone i talked to when i first got here,” he tells you, using his hands slightly to explain himself. “i met a girl the first day i was moving into my dorm. we talked for maybe like . . . a week, and then classes started and i just found other hobbies.”
you pick at your eggs. “do you mean hookups?” you ask him, and without having to look at him, you can tell he’s grimacing.
“we never even made things official but i guess she was hoping that to happen. haven’t given her a single thought since the first day of school but she caught me at the party,” he continues, and you lean back in your chair. “honestly when she brought me upstairs she was just yelling at me the whole time. i don’t know if you heard—”
“the music was loud rafe, no one heard you, i’m sure,” you tell him.
he gives you a slight glare for interrupting him. “whatever. i told her what she was saying was bullshit and she got mad at me,” he says. “i thought i should’ve told you ‘cause i . . . i don’t know. enzo and lara know about her but you don’t. didn’t want you to think i was just gonna have sex with some random girl.”
“you can do what you want rafe, it’s not like it’s any of my business if you choose to do something like that,” you say. he stares at you in silence and it’s a little concerning. you can’t read the expression at all. “but thanks for telling me anyway.”
“yeah,” rafe murmurs as, just on time, lorenzo and elara approach the table once they find you two there. you send them a smile as they come over, but rafe is still staring at you, guilt still glinting in his eye, “anytime.”
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“how does morrison explore the concept of memory and its effects on identity in ‘beloved’?” you read a question to one of your assignments out loud. you’re sitting in rafe and lorenzo’s dorm with the two boys, all spread out across the room.
with an uneasy look on his face, rafe scratches the back of his head, “i don’t fuckin’ know.”
“maybe we should take a break,” you suggest, to which the boys agree to immediately. you lift your ipad off your lap and settle it down on the spot on the floor beside you, and you lay down. “i could go for some . . . something to drink maybe.”
“café?” lorenzo asks and you hum in approval. he checks his phone for the time, “i could dr . . . oh shit. no, i have to meet up with lara like now. i can’t make it guys. sorry.”
he gets up to grab his bag, and you look over to rafe to see if he’s still okay with going. it’s only five. you doubt he has anything else planned today.
rafe gets up from his bed. “i’ll drive,” he volunteers.
“let me go change first,” you say as you grab your slippers and leave to your dorm since it’s cold out. “bye lorenzo!”
“bye y/n!” you hear him call from his dorm as you slip into yours, throwing on a hoodie and changing your bottoms to wear some sweats, then pull your sneakers on. you put your hair up before heading outside where rafe is already waiting.
he’s fiddling with his keys when he spots you, and he points behind him, “let’s go.”
you follow rafe out of the dorm building and to the parking lot to find his car. this is your first time being inside. you slide into the passengers seat quietly and put on your seatbelt. within moments, rafe backs up out of his spot and drives you two out of the lot.
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“thank you,” rafe says to the cashier after your order is complete and paid for, thanks to rafe. you turn around and head for the first table you see, but rafe seems to find more interest at the table in the very back corner against the window. you have no choice but to follow him.
you settle down in the chair and pull your phone out of your pocket, just to check any and all texts from family. you look like a fool as you keep checking the message app and your lockscreen notification for something, anything. rafe can tell you’re just trying to fill the void.
“remember that time when we were kids and they were hosting that charity gala,” rafe begins to recall, and your gaze slowly falls on him. “there was that ballroom dance and our parents paired us up.”
“you stepped on my foot,” you remind him.
“you were so serious trying to dance while hobbling around on one foot,” he returns, and the memory of 6-year-old you makes you smile softly. “the step was an accident by the way. i didn’t know my lefts from my rights . . . or— or remember the school play we did in 5th grade? where i was the prince and you wore a dress?”
you deadpan. “‘cause i was the princess,” you say, then shake your head. “i remember you forgot your line and i had to tell you what it was.”
“i thought you were so annoying for that,” rafe’s words causes you to laugh, and he grinned from ear to ear. “like i told my sister how much of a know-it-all you were. you showed me up in our play.”
“i remember summer camp,” you add on to the list of memories.
for a moment rafe has to think about it. “what?” he says, a little confused. “when?”
“the first year we went,” you say like it’s obvious. “the tug-of-war had me on edge for months.”
“oh!” rafe laughs when he realizes what you’re talking about. “yeah you were talking all that shit, then you guys lost and you accused us of cheating.”
“‘cause you probably were,” you play along with the bit that you’re still mad, and thankfully rafe sees right through it because he laughs again. “i couldn’t stand even looking at you after that ‘cause i felt so humiliated.”
he shrugs, “don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
“shut up,” you say, kicking at his leg gently. he only smiles as his name gets called out at the front. you get up and follow rafe to the counter where he checks for both of your drinks, handing you yours, and then grabbing two straws.
rafe bites the paper open and pulls the straw out of it, then sticks it in his cup. “come on, i got something to show you,” he says with a wink, and he leads you outside quickly.
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after driving just ten minutes and damn near finishing both of your drinks in the process, rafe leads you out to stairs that lead down.
from the car already, you can see a bunch of string fairy lights that go from tree to tree. it leads down a path to walk on but on one of the sides, past the concrete shoulder of the sidewalk there’s the ocean.
it’s getting darker and the blues from the sky and water just look so perfect.
“it’s beautiful out here,” you say with furrowed brows, surprised that you’ve never seen this before. “we’re just ten minutes from campus?”
“that’s what i said,” rafe agrees with you, and you laugh as you lean into him for a moment. your gaze falls upon the few people walking in either direction down the path, most are families though. you can’t help but think of yours.
you’re hoping to plan a day where your family comes down here though. it’s been in the works. so far it’s just been facetimes when everyone’s free but seeing them would feel so nice. they would love a place like this too, you’re sure of.
rafe has bitten down on his straw but he’s looking forward around the area as the two of you walk. “i spy with my little eye . . .” he trails off, and before he continues, you erupt in a laugh. “something green.”
your smile fades when he says this. that’s the worst color he could’ve picked for this game.
“oh, i wonder,” you say, sarcasm laced through your voice as you look around, pretending to think about it. “the grass. the trees. my drink.”
“you can’t go three times,” he tells you before you guess your fourth. you continue to walk beside him, taking in the fresh air. “it was your drink.”
“who could’ve guessed?”
“can you just shut up?”
soon it’s been an hour of roaming the city, with the both of you giggling and exploring your new home some more. you’re sitting on a park bench staring at the water when you and rafe walk all the way back to where you were before.
you’ve leaned your head against his shoulder as you chew on your straw, even though you’ve already finished your drink.
“did you and enzo meet just from being roommates?” you ask him after a bit of silence, and you lay your head on him a different way to look at him a bit. or try to. all you can see is his jaw and cheek. “is that how you met lara?”
he thinks about it for a moment. “yeah that’s how we met. i didn’t even wanna have a roommate but you know . . . and enzo’s a great guy. he’s never really left my side even when i told him to go away. he met lara at some party in august or something.”
“that’s cute,” you mumble, lowering your head to position it where it was before, and you stare at the water. “they’re really cute. when i met enzo it was like i couldn’t even tell he had a girl like that. but when i met lara for the first time it all just made sense.”
“they’re each others best friends,” he confirms, and it brings a smile on your face as you pull your straw away and gaze down at it. “do you miss home?”
“like every day,” you answer honestly. “every second of every hour of every day, probably ‘til i graduate and probably ‘til i die.”
“you’re not moving back home after college?” rafe asks you, and you shrug.
“was never really in my books to go back home. after i committed to this university i just assumed i’d . . . i don’t know, find a home here,” you say. “your sisters were pretty cool though.”
“you’re too old to be sarah or wheezie’s friend,” rafe says with a light scoff.
you scoff back and sit up, looking at him. “you’re friends with people like topper,” you tell him since he can’t be the one to talk. “isn’t he sarah’s age?”
“please,” rafe mutters as he averts his gaze elsewhere, “he was always just trying to get in my good graces ‘cause he likes her. or loves her. whatever.”
“they’re dating now, no?”
“before,” he says. “think she’s with that pogue now. john b.”
“pogue,” you repeat, scrunching your nose. “you can’t use that word anymore. we aren’t back home.”
“it describes him perfectly,” he says in an ‘as a matter of fact’ tone, before murmuring under his breath, “among other things.”
“they’re just kids. leave them be,” you say, and you lay back down to lean your head on his shoulder again, getting comfortable. “i’m really glad you got accepted into the same college as me, rafe.”
these words come in just a bit above a whisper, though he hears you perfectly, and it comes to a bit of a shock for him. he looks down at you quietly, before carefully moving his arm that has been resting on top of the bench to pull you in for a hug.
“me too,” he mumbles.
you get up again and lock eyes with the boy immediately. you can see him underneath the lamp post lights perfectly, just at the right darkness but just at the right brightness.
your gaze flickers down to his lips and back up to his eyes. out of impulse, you consider what feels like the craziest decision to make in that moment and lean in, but what surprises you is rafe takes advantage of the opportunity.
his hand comes up to hold the side of your face as he pulls you in, and your lips press together. it’s not a soft kiss, it’s not a gentle kiss. it’s a desperate, hungry kiss filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back.
you’re kissing like you’ve been starved of oxygen and the other is the only one who can provide it. his lips move urgently against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you closer. he doesn’t care about anything else in the world at this moment, just you and this kiss.
when rafe pulls his head back to see your eyes, he feels like he fucked up. he stares right at you, and your thoughts seem to be going behind his eyes. he starts to pull away, about to apologize, “fuck, sorry y/n, i didn’t—”
“just shut up,” you murmur before grabbing his collar and pulling him back in for another kiss. he moans softly when you do, his hands gripping your waist tighter. he loves the feeling of your lips against his, it’s almost unbearable.
his second kiss is just as desperate as the first, but this time he tries to slow it down a bit. he breaks the kiss to catch his breath, his forehead pressed against yours as he looks into your eyes. “y/n . . .” he begins, his voice shaky. “you have no idea long how i’ve been wanting to do that.”
“kept me waiting long enough,” you say as you stare deep into his eyes with a soft smile, and rafe shakes his head as he grabs your jaw and guides you to his lips again.
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@svnsetcrve @sublimepenguinpeach-blog @lalalalala33 @darkcolorexpert @babyflockaaaa @lifeofleasaasa @ilyrafe @mkiverd @wxn-drlst @maybankslover @wearemadeofstardust0 @thepopcultureaddict @mounthings @mfcouture @ijustwanttoreadlols @karmasloverrr @lilithblackkk @drewsdirtyslut @rafesno1bae
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dokupine · 11 months ago
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Violet, named explicitly for the UV spots visible to molluscmen from their sun. She lives aboard a space station with her family and an omnipotent AI caretaker.
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queenofsquids · 15 hours ago
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Here's Otterloreart's Takara Pony BJD printed full size, with a Barbie Dream Besties for scale :)
I need to cure the parts a little further before stringing.
In the last photo you can see the areas that were a bit gooey out of the vat. They hardened up in the uv curing station, but I would like to set them in direct sunlight for a while.
This size is adorable and the doll is so sweet.
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mysticstronomy · 2 months ago
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WHAT HAPPENS TO A HUMAN BODY IN SPACE??
Blog#438
Saturday, September 21st, 2024.
Welcome back,
On the ISS, or spacecraft that have flown into space, the force of gravity is much weaker than on the earth. As a result, many people show symptoms of "space sickness," such as headaches, nausea, and vomiting. When we are on the earth, we are strongly affected by the force of gravity. We have a small organ called the vestibular organ deep inside our ears (in the inner ear) that plays a key role in keeping our bodies balanced.
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This organ converts information on gravity and acceleration experienced by the body into electrical signals and sends them to the brain. While on the earth, the brain always receives gravity information from the vestibular organs, and uses it to keep the body balanced.
In the low gravity of space, the information received from the vestibular organs changes. This is thought to confuse the brain, leading to space sickness. But this condition does not continue for very long. If you stay for a few days in space, your brain adjusts its interpretation of the vestibular information, so the space sickness goes away.
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There are individual differences in the severity of space sickness, and some people don't experience it at all. When you return to earth, you experience the effects of earth's gravity again, and thus "gravity sickness" sometimes occurs, with similar symptoms as space sickness.
Blood and other bodily fluids are pulled by gravity into the lower body. When you go to space, gravity weakens and thus fluids are no longer pulled down, resulting in a state where fluids accumulate in the upper body. This is why the face swells in space. The mucous membranes of the nose also swell, so astronauts often have congested noses. If you stay for a while in space, the fluids in your body balance out, and facial swelling typically begins to disappear after a few weeks.
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Conversely, astronauts returning to earth often experience dizziness when standing up, known as orthostatic hypotension. This occurs because gravity on the earth is stronger than in space, and it is more difficult to deliver blood from the heart to the head. In space, blood can be delivered with less force, so weakening of the heart muscles may also be a cause of dizziness when standing.
If you stay for a long time in space, your muscles and bones will weaken, primarily in the legs and lower back. Gravity always acts on you while you're on the earth, so even if you're not really conscious of resisting gravity, you're always using the muscles of your lower body.
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In space, where gravity is very weak, posture can be maintained without standing on your legs, and there's no need to use your legs to move about. Muscles weaken and bone mass decreases if you stay for a long time in space.
Therefore, research is underway to verify, in space, the effects of existing drugs for preventing bone loss by astronauts. Also, to prevent weakening of muscle and bone, astronauts exercise for about two hours a day during their stay on the International Space Station (ISS).
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The surface of the earth is enveloped by the atmosphere. This atmosphere provides the oxygen we need to breathe, and also protects organisms from the UV rays and radiation that impinge on the earth. Astronauts who stay in space, where there is almost no atmosphere, are exposed to higher energy radiation than on the earth. If a person is exposed to a lot of higher energy radiation, the risk increases that they will develop diseases such as cancer.
At JAXA, we work hard to keep space radiation exposure below a specified level, and thereby prevent astronauts from developing health problems.
Originally published on https://humans-in-space
COMING UP!!
(Wednesday, September 25th, 2024)
"DID EARTH JUST GOT A SECOND MOON??"
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miss-floral-thief · 5 months ago
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Uv higher than usual , mom
Had like a spare bottle that seems unsealed smells surprisingly good
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inbabylontheywept · 1 year ago
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"I think we underestimated the human population by eight or nine orders of magnitude."
The war room was reeling. The human population had been estimated in the mere hundred billion range. They should barely have had enough of an economy to field two light cruisers, least of all the goddamn armada that was ravaging the inner worlds. After the alpha strike, the human flotilla should’ve been completely crippled. Instead the number of ships they were fielding kept growing.
Tan-Hauser was the first target struck by a human attack, and they reported seventeen craft before they lost comms. Attican was hit just three days after that, but their reports already showed numbers above ninety. Any doubts that the fleet was growing were eliminated when Outpost Batan reported 1,217 FTL pings two days before the loss of Kira.
The number reported was so big it was written off as a sensor malfunction. Twenty-five billion souls lost, all because nobody in the war room could face reality.
They were going to face it now. The Kirarian in front of them was the primary sensor engineer for the Batan outpost, a specialist with more expertise in analyzing space lanes than warships. He’d been up for at least the last two days, poring over the sensor data, and only now was ready to begin to share his findings.
From the pain in his multifaceted eyes, it was clear he was still reeling from the loss of his homeworld.
Seeing that he had the room’s attention, he began to speak. The translation units each member of the war council had implanted experienced a moment of lag as they struggled to convert the almost musical tonal humming of the Kirarian tongue to more common galactic speech.
"The simplest data that can be analyzed from an FTL ping is the distance that the ship traveled before dropping to sublight. The contracted space in front of the craft traps small particles, even light itself for a short period, compressing its wavelength and then releasing it when the field disengages."
The war room nodded along. The explanation was mildly technical, but anyone that had traveled on an FTL shuttle before knew the hazards of exiting FTL directly in front of your home destination. Blasting your home station with a wave of alpha, beta, and ultraviolet rays was hardly a warm welcome.
The engineer continued.
“The… issue with this is that we’re used to the majority of the ping being in the UV spectrum. We aren’t entirely sure what the spectrum of the signals we got from the ships were because Batan station can only detect up into the low gamma range, but that’s still what the majority of the human’s FTL pings were detected in. That’s at least ten billion times the frequency that we’re used to. Since the frequency of the burst can be roughly modeled by multiplying the mean radiation per unit distance by the length of the path, that implies one of two things: That the human ships are either traveling through areas with ten billion times the standard background flux, or that they are traveling extragalactic distances.”
The engineer paused for a few seconds at that statement. The pain of loss still shone in his gemstone eyes, but something more immediate was beginning to take center stage: Fear.
“Because the craft is essentially throwing… well, normally it would be the next three or four days worth of cosmic background radiation at you. In our case it’s more like several decades. But because it’s just giving you an advance on your normal cosmic background radiation, you can track the void in the next several days' worth of background noise to determine the ship's approach vector. The 1,217 crafts that arrived weren’t coming from the same spot. There were actually hundreds of converging vectors, but more importantly…”
He trailed off, a small 3D model of the local space appearing in the center of the holo table. A spiked ball of vectors protruded from the galactic disk, each piercing cleanly through his former homeworld.
His voice cracked a little, the hum turning into a hiss. The translator tech paused a moment too, struggling to convey the subtle emotional cues into the message.
“They’re all coming off the galactic disk. That doesn’t just mean that we’re surrounded, that doesn’t just mean that we’re outnumbered… It means that each attack that we’ve seen up to this point is from an entirely separate group. What we’ve been mistaking for fleets, I believe, are simply the beginning trickles of their exploratory forces. Each of the sites that they’ve targeted hasn’t been of significant strategic importance; they’ve just been sites with unusually strong output signals. I think they’re just using our transmission stations as makeshift beacons for their FTL jumps." He took a deep breath to steady himself before providing his final thought. "I think we underestimated the size of the human population by eight or nine orders of magnitude.”
There was a heavy silence in the war room as that last sentence was processed. The engineer was already out the door before he heard the panic begin to set in.
Part of him felt a little guilty. It would’ve probably been kinder for them to go out not knowing what was about to hit them. Still, it wasn’t often you could force people with this much power to realize that they’d just lost everything.
There was a bitter satisfaction in that.
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