#Compression Strength

[wellhealthhub]

Unveiling the Mystery: What is the difference between compressions sock strengths??

Wondering about compression sock strengths? We’ll break it down for you and help you make an informed decision. Find out how to choose the perfect fit. Introduction: The Importance of Choosing the Right Compression Sock Strength When it comes to compression socks, one size—or strength—definitely does not fit all. The strength of your compression socks can make a world of difference in your…

[fostersffff]

The official Witch from Mercury twitter knows what the people want: Chuchu Panlunch putting on her pilot’s cap, and also holding a spiked baseball bat:

[theninjamouse]

Alexa, play Run by Awolnation

Saw a meme. Wanted to do a Shorby version

[savages-weapons]

ok but Saint Alia of the Knife story arc and her entire fate makes no sense if she doesn't kill the baron?

[ohanahoku-ao3]

Whumptober Day 13

@whumptober Here's a short and sweet sickfic for this one!

General Audiences - Gen - Teen Wolf

An Uncle's Love

     It didn’t often happen that werewolves could get sick, but young pups were still susceptible to certain things like the flu, so when Peter heard a knock at his door, it wasn’t surprising to find young Derek in the doorway, his cheeks flushed and lips quivering. “Uncle Peter? I don’t feel so good.”

     Peter sighed softly but set the paperwork he was doing aside. “Alright then, come on.” He murmured, walking over and scooping his nephew into his arms. “Let’s go tell Alpha.”

     The feverish pup nodded, curling into his neck and whimpering softly as he sniffled. Wolves primarily relied on scent for comfort during such times, but with his nose stuffed up, Derek couldn’t smell much.

     “It’s okay,” Peter said softly, rubbing his back as he headed downstairs. He knocked on the door to Talia’s study, waiting to be called in before opening the door. “Derek isn’t feeling well. I believe he caught the flu.”

     Talia’s nose wrinkled in poorly hidden disgust, even as she clicked her tongue sympathetically at her pup. “Poor pup.” She cooed, though she made no move to get up. “Peter, could I talk to you for a moment? Alone?”

     Peter’s lip curled in obvious distaste for the question, but at this point, he wasn’t surprised by how his sister acted towards her children. “As you want.” He said, leaving the study and setting Derek on the couch in the living room. “I’ll be right back, pup.” He assured him, getting only a miserable nod from his nephew. His lips thinned, and he stalked back into the study, a slight growl lacing his words as he spoke before his alpha had a chance to. “Your pup is sick. Shouldn’t you be comforting him?”

     “Peter, I’m much too busy for this,” Talia said, and Peter rolled his eyes at the lack of compassion. “Derek will be fine, you know this. Coddling a pup for something so insignificant is unnecessary. These things come and go, but Derek is strong. He’ll be fine.”

     “Your pup is sick for the first time in his life, and he’s scared. You don’t think that warrants your attention as his mother? As his alpha?” Peter asked incredulously.

     “Enough, Peter!” Talia snapped, hating to have her capabilities as an alpha questioned. “If you think it necessary to hold his hand, you can do so, but I am simply too busy to handle this right now. I have an entire pack to care for, and you seem to forget that.”

     Peter curled his hands into fists, refraining from letting his claws out like he wanted. “I will never forget the pack that I help protect.” He snarled. “But neither will I forget their individual needs. Right now, Derek needs his mother.”

     “I said enough!” Talia said, slamming her hands down on the desk as she stood. “If you’re such a bleeding heart, then you can cater to Derek and his childish illness.”

     Peter’s teeth ground together, and he bit the words out. “Fine. But one day, you’ll wish you had taken the time to do so yourself.” He turned and stalked out of the room, taking a moment to calm himself down before going back to Derek. His heart ached to see the young pup curled up on the couch, sniffling and shivering. “Hey, pup. Let’s get you warmed up.” He said, his voice infinitely softer than it had been talking with Talia.

     He grabbed a blanket and wrapped Derek up before picking him up again. He settled him on his hip, and his chest squeezed at the quiet whisper in his ear. “Mommy hates me, doesn’t she?”

     Peter sighed, rubbing Derek’s back as he carried him up the stairs. “No, she doesn’t hate you, pup. She just forgets sometimes how to love.”

     “How does she forget?” Derek asked, the teary sound of his voice hitting Peter hard.

     He laid Derek down in his bed, tucking him in. “Well, sometimes she forgets how to love as a mother because she has to be the alpha.”

     “Don’t alphas love?” Derek asked after thinking hard about that for a minute.

     “They’re supposed to,” Peter answered, feeling Derek’s head. He was feverish but not too hot. “She’ll remember that soon, I’m sure.” He reassured him.

     Derek nodded, starting to look sleepy as he yawned and blinked slowly. “Do left hands love?” He asked, looking up at his uncle.

     Peter smiled, running a hand through Derek’s hair gently. “We do. That’s something we never forget.” He promised.

     Derek nodded, on the cusp of sleep as he answered. “Good. Love you, Uncle Peter.”

     A warm feeling bloomed in Peter’s chest as Derek started snoring softly. “I love you too, pup.” He whispered, leaning over to kiss his forehead. He’d grab some cold compresses and a good book and settle in for the night. Maybe an uncle’s love wasn’t the best substitute for a mother’s, but he refused to let his nephew think he was unloved.

[agustdiv1ne]

all i've learned from this submersible situation is that u could never pay me enough to step foot into the ocean

[evillittlebirdie]

Protector: Karlach/Tav

Part One Part Two

Most of Tav’s wounds from the chandelier fall healed quickly. 

Shadowheart ensured his bones were properly set. Tav made sure to keep his bandages changed and clean. Even though Shadowheart advised Tav to rest at camp, Tav shooed her advice away. He pushed himself day after day. Until one morning, he couldn’t.

One of the lacerations on his side had trouble healing. The skin did not knit together as seamlessly as his other sounds. And now, the infection was tearing its ugly head. Tav woke up with a low fever originating from the wound. The skin around it was swollen and tender. Even under the bandage, Tav could tell it was angry.

Tav used his arms to force himself up, and a shooting pain ran from his back up through his side. "Fuck," He mumbled. He took off his shirt so he could further inspect the damage. He began to unwrap his bandage, and he could see streaks of red against his pale blue skin. Once he removed the bandage, Tav could smell the putrid stench of infection. 

To admit illness was to admit weakness. If Tav’s body wasn’t strong enough to overcome bacteria, then it deserved the pain it wrought. 

Tav cleaned the wound to the best of his ability, hissing as water and soap entered the wound. He almost bent over, gasping with agony. 

"Keep it together, Tav. You got this. It's just a cut." He wrapped his bandage around his abdomen, twisting it tightly to ensure air was not trapped. He tied off the bandage and put his shirt back on. He tried to stand up, biting his lip as the pain now radiated to his spine. "You can do this." He told himself, attempting to force more confidence into his impromptu pep talk, "You have a group of people who depend on you now."

Tav left his tent and couldn't help but notice his posture was weak. Glorious. He forced himself to stand up straight, pulling at the injury on his side. He kept his moan to himself before walking over to where Gale had set out their breakfast.

"Good morning, Tav. Are you alright?" Gale questioned, eying the Drow as he drudged over to him. He offered Tav a plate of eggs and sausage. He couldn't help but take note of Tav's distracted look and the way he seemed to favor his left side. 

"Better than ever," Tav reassured, taking the food. The smell used to trigger his appetite. Now, he wanted nothing more than to hurl up bile onto the plate. Before Gale could pester him with additional questions, Tav quickly stated, "Looks great, Gale," and spun around. He walked back to his tent to eat his breakfast in peace.

Gale frowned, crinkling his nose before going to fetch Karlach. Maybe she would get more out of her lover than he could. 

Tav was engaging in a series of mental gymnastics to convince himself to eat his breakfast when Karlach entered his tent. "Oh, good morning, Karlach-"

"How are you doing, soldier? Gale said you looked like you were going to fall on your feet," Karlach coaxed. She sat down next to Tav and inspected the barely touched plate of food. 

Tav liked it when Karlach called him a soldier. She wasn't using it in a demeaning, sarcastic way and she wasn't patronizing him either. "I'm fine," Tav insisted, shifting in his seated position. He stuck a piece of sausage with his fork and brought it to his mouth. He quickly chewed and swallowed against all his better judgment. 

Karlach looked him over. Tav could feel her eyes on his body. And for once, he didn't feel like he was a rothe up at auction. She was not sizing him up for his potential as a useful sorcerer or a prized paramour. 

"How's that wound on your side? I know it's been giving you trouble," Karlach led. She leaned back on her hands, glancing at the wound as though she could see through his clothes. 

"Oh, no worries. Slow and steady," Tav insisted. The piece of sausage was not a welcome guest in his gullet. He could feel it fighting to come back up and Tav forced himself to swallow again. 

"Uh-huh..." Karlach began, "So you wouldn't mind if I came in for a hug, then?" 

As much as Tav would typically be thrilled with an embrace from his tall, strong lover, he couldn't help but wince. The pressure would be agony on his wound. But maybe he could hide it. He was good at hiding things. Besides, after all, Karlach did for him, she deserved to have what she wanted. And if she wanted a hug, she would have one. Tav set his plate to the side and opened his arms, inviting Karlach in. 

Karlach stared at Tav as though he had two heads on his shoulder. The two of them were at an impasse. So Karlach moved in. She could see Tav's muscles tense as though preparing for pain. She stopped short of hugging him and quickly moved his shirt up to inspect his bandage.

"What are you doing?" Tav gasped, thrown off by her action. He tried to wiggle away only for the motion to cause stress on the wound.

"You've bled through your bandage, soldier," Karlach pointed out, "Hells, and no offense, it sticks like a dead squirrel." 

"I told you the wound was healing slow and steady," Tav lied pointedly. He tried to grab her hands so she could let his shirt fall back down. 

“Was the plan to simply will your infection away?”

“It was as good as any.”

“Your cult did a number on you, didn’t they?”

Tav paused when she brought up his upbringing in Menzoberranzan. He shrugged his shoulders in response, looking away from her in shame. "I'm sorry."

"The fuck are you being sorry for, Tav? The only thing you have to be sorry for is not telling me or Shadowheart sooner," Karlach scolded, more out of worry than anything. She couldn't let him die, especially something as torturous as wound poisoning. 

"Astarion has his blood, Gale has his orb, I have my engine...What makes you think you didn't deserve the same give-and-take?" Karlach continued. 

Tav wasn't sure how to answer that. In his world, if someone failed, they failed. In reality, he shouldn't even be alive now. They should have left him to die under the chandelier. 

Karlach sighed, pulling his shirt back down. She ruffled his white hair before kissing him on the forehead, "I'm going to get Shadowheart. And you're going to get some rest. I don't care if I have to sit on you to force you to stay still."

Tav cracked a smile, "I would like that actually."

Karlach laughed before standing up, "Settle down, horndog. I'll ride you once you aren't at risk for death."

"I don't think you riding my face would cause any damage to my side," Tav replied cheekily. 

"Once Shadowheart gives you a clean bill of health, not a minute before. So there's your motivation, Tav," Karlach declared, patting Tav on the head. Behind the jokes, she could see the dazed look in Tav's eyes. He was putting up a facade for her. 

She could only hope that facade wouldn't do him in. 

[etoile-gracieuse]

thinking. abt poetry. and abt engineering. at the same time

[a-continuous-cutting-motion]

Some day I will find a physical therapist who knows what the fuck they are doing…

[seldomscilence16]

Whumptober day 13:

"It comes and goes like the strength in your bones." 

Cold compress | infection | "I Don't Feel So Good."

Fandom: Avengers

Prompts used: All

So while I ignore most of the MCU after certain events we shant name, I saw this quote and was like, yeah I can't not. So it has nothing to do with the later movies, its its own timelined thing (obv) and based more off fanfictions I like to read (fix its) than anything. So, please take things in stride. It's sort and basically a sick fic.    ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

….

When the world looks at Tony Stark, they see a spoiled rich boy. 

And it's what Tony wants them to see of course. The Billionaire, Playboy, Philanthropist. Even Iron Man, the Super Hero he created, has so much speculation because he pilots the armor. Like Tony Stark could never truly be a hero… but he'd been there all his life. No matter how many things he creates to better the world and the people who live in it, he will always be… 

But it's fine. Those who took the time to see past everything, who peeled his layers and stayed long enough to witness what he'd never outright say, they knew who Tony was. And while they were few and far between, Tony knew he was lucky to have any at all. 

So being in a complex, surrounded by stubborn idiots who were not quite in that category yet- or ever with how things were going, but Iron Man could have teammates without having true friends, so long as the world got saved in the end- was quite the task for Tony to handle. And today, that meant a bunch of stubborn idiot heroes who refused to admit they were in fact sick. 

Strange and Loki had assured them- and really it was just Tony, everyone else had been focusing fully on staying upright- that they would find the cure to whatever magical mischief their most recent adversary had cast on them. The two had not been spared so to speak, but they hadn't received the brunt of the attack and were ridiculously stubborn- that's gonna be Tonys word of the day, get over it. So with a fiery look of competition passed between them, Loki and Strange went their separate ways to see who could cure them all first, leaving the rest of them to fend for themselves. 

As anyone could guess, in the ever growing list of assumptions about Stark, there was the assumption he was a needy whiny clingy sick person. Where anyone got that he couldn't tell you, he was tactile and often refused any form of contact from people he didn't fully trust. But as it was, the world saw what they wanted, which included the added fact that surely a spoiled rich boy would know next to nothing on how to care for others when they're sick. 

Which. Rude. 

Tony might not have received the care a child should have, but Jarvis and Ana had tried their best where his parents didn't. And despite popular opinions, Tony did in fact care about people. So with a delirious team, Tony ignored the ache in his chest- when did he ever not?- and readied himself for his hardest task yet. 

He turns, finding them all still staring at where the two magicians had been with squinted eyes, and sighs. 

"JARVIS, lockdown as secretly as possible please. I need these guys contained until this is over." He's glad for his earpiece, talking practically under his breath, to keep the gathered heroes from hearing his order. "And some scans would be great, need to know what i'm working with." 

"Of course, sir." 

"You know Cap, I'm just exhausted, can we do our briefing in the living room?" Tony bats his eyes as if the Soldier can actually comprehend it. 

"Uh," his voice is raspy and he coughs like a dying frog, "sure. Living room…" 

It gets everyone moving, however unsteady it is, Tony brushes from one to another for every sway that's a little too far, keeping everyone on their feet until they can crash onto the nearest soft surface. Or the floor as Bruce so elegantly flops. Shaking his head, he makes his way around, almost too easily removing shoes and draping blankets. He's beginning to think this may be easier than he thought-

Bruce sneezes, tints green and grows several sizes, breaking the table behind him, before sniffing and returning to a slightly paler version of himself. 

"Bless you." Steve mutters, arm thrown over his eyes as his open mouth breathing wheezes in and out of his chest. 

Natasha grumbles, burrowed into Hawkeyes side, face ashen and eyes squeezed closed, she shivers and shifts closer to the archer. Clint, to his credit, does not push her away, despite the sweat clinging to him and red tint to his cheeks. 

Thor is completely out, mouth open wide as he snores around a congested nose. He- like his brother and Strange- was better off, but for a guy who'd never had an Earth sickness- if any, Tony wouldn't know- itd be best to watch him too. If Bruce was breaking things, Thor would too no doubt.

"JARVIS, lower the lighting level a bit, and play something quiet on TV, I'm gonna make some soup." He supposed he should just be glad it wasn't every Avenger, but it was going to be a long day.

He rubs at his chest, joints protesting his movements, and clears his throat to avoid coughing. 

He could do this…

"Steve, I swear to all things, if you do not stop I will have Hulk sit on you."

He shifts the bowl of cool water so he can use a finger to push Cap back down on the couch turned bed. The super soldier goes down with little actual resistance, despite the fact he looks like he very much wants to resist. He's had to force most of them to sit still at least once, Natasha was fine so long as she was against someone warm, Clint wouldn't move if Natasha was resting on him, but had tried to fly when she'd curled into Steve. Bruce's brain still had a million tabs open, but he was also a little worried about the Hulk. The Hulk for his part, was miserable too and just wanted to watch TV one way or another so Tony was less worried about him than Bruce despite the broken table he'd had to clean up. And Thor had also tried to fly, but smacked himself in the face with Mjolnir and promptly fallen into a side table to take another nap… hopefully.

Once he's sure Steve is down for awhile longer, he goes back to his task of pressing cold compresses to heated heads. His hands shake more than usual, but like everything else, he ignores it as he dodges a smack from the red head before pressing the cloth to her neck and tucking the blankets in tighter to appease her. 

Task accomplished, he turns to check on the soup when a whimper- high and sudden- hits his ears. He turns- a little too fast, his head spins with the motion- to find Hawkeye sitting up, one hand on his stomach, the other over his mouth, and wide eyes looking up at Tony.

"I don't feel so good." He utters it a second before he's leaning over the edge of the couch bed and puking whatever the archer had eaten today. 

Tony sidesteps the mess to get to the heaving blond, placing a hand on his back and finding the compress to wipe at his face gently.

"It's okay, breathe. You're okay." Cleaning the cloth in the bowl he helps Clint lay back down, Natasha curling into his side again, and sighs in relief as he relaxes. 

He coughs into his elbow until he can't breathe and he worries about either adding to the mess or falling into it. The comm in his ear beeps steadily, sudden enough to get a breath in, and get the spots to stop dancing in his vision. 

"Thanks Jar." 

"I have re-" "I've found-"

"I really don't care who does it, just fix them." Tony waves at the miserably slumbering heroes as he makes his way towards the elevator. He had far too many things to catch up on to stay around for the aftermath of everything. He rubs at his chest as he leans heavily against the wall, waiting for the doors to open. 

"Tony, are you alright?" Strange's voice sounds far away.

"Fine, there's soup if you guys are hungry." His voice croaks a bit, but he knows if he clears it he'll cough. 

"I believe we should use the spell on you as well." Loki's drawl spins around his ears. 

"S'not the spell. I'll be fine. Just comes and goes," he waves his hand like he can wave the problem away, "like the strength in your bones. Iron bends under heat and stuff… whatever dad said." Hes mumbling by the end, not really caring what comes from his mouth or who hears. "Jar… where's the 'vator?" 

"Running slow sir, my apologies." 

"Tony-" 

"Sir you're-!"

"TONY!"

"....infection in his lungs…"

"...the arc reactor…"

"...pneumonia…"

"...need to flush out the cavity…"

"...irritated and swollen, the arc is…"

"...spell…"

Tony's chest feels heavy, his arms tingle, his head aches and eye twitches, there's a dull pain throbbing throughout his body…

So everythings normal.

But then… why doesn't he remember going to bed, and not his bed in the lab but like a bed bed. 

Shit! The team! 

He sits up quick enough to throw his head for a loop, and to startle the bodies surrounding him. He stares with wide eyes at a room full of heroes, several of which are in web hammocks strung from the ceiling. Dozens of eyes stare back, and he wonders if he missed something he shouldn't have. 

"Are we dead?" 

The collective sigh tells him they aren't, but that there's a lecture in his future.

[mejomonster]

In happy health news I did significantly reduce POTS symptoms this past year

[handcraftedloghomes]

Like all conifers, Douglas fir is a softwood with a lower hardness rating than many other types of wood, including hardwoods like cherry and maple. Nonetheless, it is stronger and more resilient when compared to other softwoods.   Of all the woods, it has the highest strength to weight ratio. It is regarded as one of the earth's strongest woods in terms of bending and compressive strength. The wood fibers' durability and pliability make Douglas fir an excellent log home building material.

Visit our website!

[an-asuryampasya]

scream

english my beloathed, WHY do you make it so hard to distinguish /when/ something is applied in a process that has multiple steps

[heicodynamics]

In material testing, compressive strength testers play an important role. They test a material's compressive strength. This is key in deciding if to use it for a specific purpose. Knowing a material's compressive strength ensures it meets safety and performance requirements. This applies to metals, composites, and concretes.

[robbinsathletics]

The decline bench press is an excellent exercise for targeting the lower chest, making it a must-have in any routine for chest development. By positioning the body at a decline angle, the movement emphasizes the lower portion of the pectoral muscles more than traditional flat or incline presses. This angle shifts the focus away from the shoulders and upper chest, allowing for deeper activation of the lower pec fibers, which can be hard to target with other exercises.

In addition to building lower chest strength and definition, the decline bench also improves overall chest symmetry and balance, ensuring a well-rounded, full chest appearance. It's a great way to add variety to your chest workouts and avoid plateaus, plus, it can reduce shoulder strain since it places less pressure on the deltoids than flat or incline pressing motions.

For anyone looking to enhance lower chest development, incorporating the decline bench press can lead to noticeable improvements in both strength and aesthetics.

[crimsonpublishersminingscience]

A View on Integrated and Sustainable Minerals Value Chains

Geology defines the occurrence of mineral deposits, and, therefore, mining is geographically constrained. However, the use of the mineral products in down-stream industries often takes place in countries different from the location of the mine. Therefore, mining communities do not necessarily appreciate the importance of mineral production for the benefit of people living in other countries, particularly if there is no tangible sharing of those benefits. Mining cannot choose locations that are logistically, socially, environmentally, or politically appropriate or ‘friendly’. This means that mining companies may have to deal with circumstances that could pose challenges such as the relationship with local communities, position in the landscape/environment, relationship with local and national governments, weak governance and associated increased risk of corruption and bribery. In order to deal with these challenges in a responsible way it means that geoscientists and engineers will need to build their capacity and skills on how to deal with local communities and related social issues. The outcome should be the equitable distribution of the benefits of development, including also mineral land-use planning issues, and minimization of the negative impacts on people and the environment. Thus, a sustainable and integrated view on minerals value chains requires looking even further upstream into the pre-exploration that includes planning process for mineral land use and development at the earliest stage.

Read more about this article: https://crimsonpublishers.com/amms/fulltext/AMMS.000610.php

Read more about our journal: https://crimsonpublishers.com/amms/