#Unwanted bacteria

[pokemonshelterstories]

Would it be weird/rude to put a little bit of yeast on a fidough?

i wouldn't do it unless it's veterinary grade yeast designed for fidough skin and your vet has recommended it. fidough have evolved to maintain a very specific balance of bacterial flora on their skin. messing with that balance can lead to a variety of skin issues and sicknesses, some of which can be passed onto humans if you aren't careful. their immune system and natural bacterial microbiome are well-developed enough to maintain the right skin condition, but if you flooded them with extra yeast, that could easily result in a bloom of unwanted bacteria.

these veterinary yeast blends are kind of like probiotics for fidough who are recovering from illnesses that cause yeast imbalance, either from the illness itself or from the treatment. but they can be overused, so they're typically given by prescription only.

[aphroditelovesu]

The Lost Queen - VII

— summary: You woke up near a military camp without remembering how and why you got there, you didn’t understand why they were dressed like ancient Greeks, all you knew was that you weren’t safe and you needed to get out of that place as soon as possible. Too bad for you that you found yourself attracting unwanted attention from the Macedonian King and he won’t let you go so easily.

— genre: yandere, dark!au.

— warnings: time travel, obsessive and possessive behavior, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, angst, fluffy (very rarely), dub-con, possibly smut.

— pairing: yandere!alexander the great x female!reader, yandere!generals x female!reader.

— word count: 2,003.

— tag list: @devils-blackrose, @faerykingdom, @hadesnewpersephone, @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 , @kadu-5607, @zoleea-exultant, @borntoexplore11-blog

— the lost queen series masterlist.

Chapter 7

Time was against you.

The more time passes, the more blood he loses and the more the chances of mortality increase.

You needed to be very careful and be as thorough as possible. Any wrong move or touch would result in Cleitus' imminent death.

The issue of medicine was also complicated and archaic and this only complicated everything. You weren't a doctor, but you knew enough about the human body and health care that you believed you could help save it. Your biggest concern, however, was the infection that could arise and how to treat the wound in his abdomen correctly and not make his situation even worse.

Those nights spent watching Grey's Anatomy could come in handy.

You almost laughed at that thought, but it was true. You tried to remember medical procedures and the biology books you had read in high school. You had to remember what was written.

You looked at Doctor Philip and frowned. He seemed more confused than you and that was because he studied medicine. Of course, not the medicine you knew, but still medicine even if archaic and probably with many flaws.

Obviously, Cleitus needed a hospital, with proper medical treatment. The only problem is that you were in the 4th century BC and not the 21st century and there were no conventional hospitals and there was the bonus that you were in a camp during a military campaign.

All the odds were against you.

The thought alone was very discouraging, but you weren't going to give up. You would do everything in your power to make sure this man lives and in the end it would all depend on how well you did.

Cleitus shouldn't die now and you were aware that saving him could change history even more, but you didn't care. Everything had already changed and you needed to save him.

You had to do it.

You washed your hands with the water that was there and the soap available. It wasn't the same as it was in its time, but it should help eliminate at least some bacteria.

You closed your eyes and counted to ten in an attempt to calm your nervousness and opened them again. You took a needle and sterilized it in beer. It wasn't what was recommended, but there was nothing else available so it would have to do.

Cleitus was lying on the cot, Philip was checking his temperature. You approached the cot with the needle and thread in hand, along with a wet and dry piece of fabric that was supposed to imitate gauze.

Philip looked at you suspiciously, ''What are you going to do?''

''Sew him.'' You replied as if it was obvious. You sat down on a chair placed next to the cot and grabbed the beer. You stared at your patient, Cleitus' tanned skin was pale and a wet cloth was on his forehead, as if it was trying to fight off a fever.

He was in a lot of pain and you would only make him feel more.

Your hands were shaking slightly and you cursed yourself for it. Taking a deep breath and praying to whoever was listening to you, you carefully cleaned the blood from the cut that was still bleeding, praying that internal bleeding wasn't happening.

You could stop external bleeding, but not an internal bleeding.

After cleaning up the blood that would get in your way, you threaded the needle and prepared to sew him up. Philip tried to help guide you, but you already knew what he was talking about.

You knew more about medicine than he did.

Trying to ignore Philip's babbling and the panic settling in your body, you pierced Cleitus's sagging skin and began to stitch him up. He was still and expressed no pain, but you knew he was hurting. The right thing to do would be to anesthetize him, but that was not an option available to you.

You managed to stabilize the tremor in your hands and finished the sewing, cutting the rest of the thread with a small knife. The wound had been closed and sterilized, Philip seemed satisfied and said that Cleitus could recover.

But you knew it wasn't just that.

A deep cut to the abdomen was dangerous and there were many risks to consider.

The cut had been closed but there were many things that could go wrong. An infection, internal bleeding or sepsis could occur. Or this could all happen at once.

The only thing left to do was pray and make sure he wouldn't die, at least not alone.

It felt like days had passed.

You had lost track of the time since you had treated Cleitus.

Your eyelids were heavy and you just wanted to sleep, but you knew you wouldn't be able to sleep, not until you were sure he would live.

In a way, it was your fault. You were to blame for him being in such a state.

Although it seemed unrealistic, you were sure it was your fault. Alexander had his share of guilt that was greater than yours, but you still felt so fucking guilty.

You blamed Alexander too. Oh, and how you blamed him.

What was wrong with that man? By god, why the hell does he want to marry you? He knew you for what? A day or less? And you weren't politically attractive.

Not in terms of beauty, you thought you were quite beautiful.

But not politically. You literally appeared out of nowhere, with just the clothes on your back and probably looking like a ghost and he wanted to marry you.

It seemed like a very bad joke.

Cleitus had been the only sensible one, you recognized that. You were too shocked to react and you blamed yourself for it. Maybe if you had said something, Cleitus wouldn't have been stabbed.

Or he would have been the same way.

There was no way you could have predicted it, but you wished you could go back in time again and reverse this situation. But you couldn't do that.

Or could you?

You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts out of your head. There was no point in thinking about things like that, you didn't even know how you ended up in this place, much less how to travel through time again.

Or did you know? Now, alone with Cleitus in a strangely silent environment, you were finally able to think and analyze everything that had happened a few hours ago.

This all started after you bought that book, you were sure of that. And that book was supposed to be magical, it was the only explanation, even if your mind screamed otherwise.

You have always had a scientific mind and have always sought answers based on science and this has always worked for you. There was nothing that science couldn't explain.

Except that.

Science confirmed that time travel existed, but only into the future and not in the way you were experiencing it. Albert Einstein's theory of relativity was always something to be credited with and you trusted him.

Now you weren't so sure about that.

Science went down the drain in this case. Maybe it was some god playing with you or you went crazy. But you dug deep into your mind, looking for any traces of what might indicate why you were here.

And that was when you remembered that strange man who had approached you before you went to the market.

You shivered when you remembered his words.

''The shadows of fate surround you... The world will never be the same for you, girl.''

Could he be the real culprit of your current torment? Possibly. In fact, him and that damn book were the things you could blame right now and only the gods knew how desperately you needed to blame someone or something.

You felt anger course through your body and you wanted to scream at someone. Preferably the culprit, but anyone would do in your moment of understandable outburst.

You felt tears in your eyes, but this time, they weren't tears of despair, but of pure anger.

You didn't try to fight back the tears, but let them fall and wet your face and the top of your blood-stained chiton.

All the emotions you had been suppressing finally exploded. The anger, the sadness, the fear, it all came at once like a devastating wave. Your eyes burned a little, but you didn't care.

After hours of anguish, you allowed yourself to freak out once and for all. And it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders after letting all your emotions out of you. You buried your head in your chest and folded your legs, trying to hide like you did whenever you were scared.

''(Y/N)?'' You raised your head and tried to focus your unfocused gaze on whoever had spoken to you. It was Perddicas. You smiled a little at his presence.

He approached you and gently touched your bare shoulders. You shivered a little at the sudden contact, but didn't try to push him away.

''Hey...'' You mumbled with a choked voice.

''How is he?'' He murmured, patting your shoulders.

You held back a sob, ''I'm not sure.''

Perdiccas just looked at you fondly with those beautiful blue eyes that you felt like you could get lost in them for hours.

''And how are you?'' His voice was a little louder than a whisper. He was trying to comfort you and you appreciated it immensely.

''Not great.'' You simply said, still looking into those mesmerizing eyes.

A hint of pain flashed across his handsome face. ''I'm sorry to hear that and for what happened to Cleitus.'' He mumbled and you could swear there were tears in his eyes.

''It sucks.''

He laughed nasally, ''Yes.''

No exchange of words was said after that. And it wasn't necessary, body and facial language said everything that needed to be said.

You were very close, closer than would be considered appropriate or comfortable but you didn't care. You needed this comfort, desperately and Perdiccas could offer you that.

He wanted to offer you this.

You knew it from your first interaction with him.

You leaned your face closer to his and his breathing became heavy, You didn't back away however. Your eyes were fixed on the general's full lips.

''(Y/N)...'' Perdiccas murmured, looking at your face with desire and affection.

Hearing him say your name like that sent waves of pleasure through your body. Your faces were close, very close.

''Perdiccas...'' He got goosebumps when he heard you whisper his name.

You no longer had any doubts.

Against all the common sense you had left, you sealed the distance between you. Your lips met in a shy and superficial kiss, but one that quickly became passionate.

You moaned softly and wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing his warm body closer to yours. Perdiccas touched your waist and squeezed lightly, deepening the kiss. Your tongues touched in a shy and passionate way, your mouths became one.

You reluctantly broke apart after the lack of air hit you. You opened your eyes and blushed when you saw his lips swollen from the kiss and his breathing a little labored. Yours was no different.

You took a deep breath and touched his face tenderly, stroking it softly. He was really very handsome, the kind of man you were sure you'd see in one of those magazines, maybe like Vogue.

''(Y/N), you...'' Perdiccas couldn't formulate a proper question, still very surprised and excited by the passionate kiss. He wanted to kiss you more and maybe even more than kiss.

You smiled at him.

You threw yourself against him, looking for the necessary comfort. Perdiccas hugged you tightly and kissed your neck, stroking your hair. You closed your eyes and gave yourself what you wanted most.

— lady l: You didn't expect that kiss, did you? Me neither. The idea for the kiss came up at the last minute and I had to write it, so... Yeah, we had a little kiss between our girl and Perdiccas. Will I mention the consequences this will have? No. Anyway, I hope you liked it and forgive me for any mistakes and bad writing on the medical treatment part lol, don't repeat that! If you have been stabbed, seek medical attention! Love you all and see you in the next chapter ❤️.

[stardust-swan]

The complete masterpost on how to smell like a Princess 💐🧴🌸

ARMPITS

🌸 Long armpit hair traps sweat and the smell can be quite noticeable. Wax or nair off the hair (instead of shaving, which causes dark discolouration), or if you don't want to have completely hairless armpits, trim the hair down short with a small pair of scissors.

🌸 Know the difference between deodorant and antiperspirant. Deodorant: stops the smell. Antiperspirant: stops the sweat. Some products may do one but not the other, although most do both.

🌸 Use a men's deodorant instead of women's deodorant. The antiperspirant is much stronger than in women's deodorant. Old Spice makes nice ones that don't smell particularly masculine despite the brand being associated with men. Old Spice Deep Sea smells like sea salt, Old Spice Fiji smells like coconuts, Old Spice Oasis is sweet and slightly vanilla scented, Old Spice Wolfthorn is sweet citrus, and Old Spice Timber smells like sandalwood.

🌸 Apply deodorant after you shower instead of waiting a while.

🌸 Apply antiperspirant at night instead of morning so that it has all night to get absorbed

🌸 Vanilla extract can be used as a natural deodorant. Because it's alcohol based, it kills bacteria and the vanilla scent stays all day.

🌸 Use deodorant as a preventative measure, not a fix for an already-stinky armpit or a replacement for washing.

🌸 Use salicylic acid toner on the armpits. This lowers the pH of your armpits to be inhospitable to odour-causing bacteria

🌸 Hand sanitiser can be used in a pinch (not regularly though as it's bad if you use it too often)

🌸 Washing your armpits with Head & Shoulders shampoo and letting it sit for a bit before rinsing off is really good for getting rid of bad odour due to the zinc in it

🌸 Exfoliate your underarms in the shower to slough off dead skin and deodorant build-up that could be making any products you use under your arms less effective. You can use the same exfoliator you use on your face or body on your armpits.

🌸 To dry your armpits completely, use a hairdryer, apply deodorant, then dry them again. It will make such a difference, as it gets your armpits completely dry, whereas as towel drying alone can often leave some moisture, which is more likely to make you smell.

🌸 If you suffer from excessive underarm sweating, go see your doctor. They can prescribe you an industrial strength antiperspirant which may solve your issue.

CLOTHES

🌸 Don't leave your clothes in the washing machine for too long after they've finished washing, this makes them develop a bad smell. Put them to dry as soon as possible after washing.

🌸 If possible, use the tumble dryer instead of leaving your clothes to air-dry in winter. If clothes are left for hours and hours and not really drying because it's too cold, they develop a bad mildewy smell.

🌸 Dry your clothes outside in the sun whenever possible

🌸 Use scented dryer sheets (but make sure the scent isn't one that clashes with your perfume).

🌸 An old-fashioned tip is to keep cut up soap and lavender in the same drawer as your clothes. You can just stick a scented soap or sachets with potpourri in the closet with your clothes to make them smell nice.

🌸 In hardware stores, you can buy cedar blocks to put in your closet, which as well as making your clothes smell nice, also keep spiders, moths, and centipedes away

🌸 Add a capful of white vinegar to the washing machine when you're washing your clothes (no, this won't make your clothes smell like vinegar. It kills unwanted scents and helps remove stains).

🌸 Add a few drops of essential oils such as lavender, peppermint, tea tree, or eucalyptus to your laundry detergent (you can add some to your dryer sheets as well). Make sure they're clear, light, essential oils, and not dark resiny ones, as that will stain your clothes. You can put a few drops of essential oils on the bottom of your drawer, right on the wooden part too.

🌸 You can buy special laundry perfumes to put in the fabric softener department. The scent lasts for ages

🌸 Avoid harsh or heavy scented laundry detergent and washing powders. Stick to neutral, light-scented ones

🌸 Wear breathable fabrics like cotton, hemp, linen, and silk. This will make more air circulate around your body. Avoid nylon and polyester.

🌸 Wash your bathrobe once a week

🌸 Spray Febreeze or perfume on the clothes in your closet once a week

🌸 Wash any clothes you haven't worn in a while, even if you're not planning on wearing them soon, to prevent a stale smell. It will make your whole wardrobe smell much better

FEET

🌸 Wear clean cotton socks. Don't reuse worn socks days in a row

🌸 Always wear socks. Not wearing them makes it much more likely for your feet to start smelling bad

🌸 Don't wear the same pair of shoes every day, as this can make odour-causing bacteria grow because they don't get a chance to dry out.

🌸 If you're staying somewhere overnight, remember to bring a 2nd pair of shoes to change into instead of wearing the same pair twice in a row

🌸 Put baby powder on your feet before putting socks on

🌸 Always dry your feet thoroughly after washing, including between each toe. This prevents the development of foot fungus

🌸 Use foot spray or shoe spray

🌸 Scent rises, so spray a little perfume in your shoes or on your ankles

🌸 Pat some glycolic acid on the soles of your feet with a cotton pad each morning

HAIR

🌸 Spray some perfume on your hairbrush before brushing. Grace Kelly swore by this

🌸 Apply dry shampoo the night before instead of the morning of so that your hair has time to absorb it

🌸 Hair absorbs scent a lot, so wash it regularly

🌸 Add a tiny drop of perfume oil into a few drops of hair oil and apply to your hair

🌸 It's obvious, but using a shampoo and conditioner that smells good will make your hair smell good

🌸 Consider using a hairspray or hair mist

HOME

🌸 Change pillowcases and bedding regularly. Oils, sweat and dead skin cells will accumulate if you go too long using the same sheets.

🌸 Open the windows regularly and leave your bed to air before making it once a week. No airflow means your environment will be more warm and sweaty, making it more likely to develop bacteria that makes you smell bad

🌸 Light a scented candle or incense regularly so that your home always smells lovely

🌸 Have multiple towels so you can use a new one each time you shower. Once a towel is wet, germs start growing, which can make you smell. Clean your towels regularly

🌸 Above all, make sure your house is clean. It doesn't matter how many of these tips you follow, if your home smells bad, you'll smell like it. Plus if you bring someone home and your house smells, no matter how good you personally smell, that's the impression they'll have of you. Clean regularly.

MOUTH

🌸 Floss after eating. Food particles trapped in between the teeth can make your breath smell bad. Even if you don't notice it, others will.

🌸 Use mouthwash after eating or drinking. Avoid mouthwashes with alcohol, as they can dry out your mouth, and your mouth should be moist if you want to reduce bad breath.

🌸 Brush your tongue or use a tongue scraper. This gets rid of bacteria that can build up and make your breath smell bad.

🌸 Keep a pack of mints or gum in your bag for after you eat or drink out (avoid chewing gum if you grind your teeth or clench your jaw though - it's not good for overworked muscles that need to relax).

🌸 Brush your teeth morning and night. Make sure to brush the hard to reach places, like the back molars. And brush for at least two minutes.

🌸 Bad smelling bacteria builds up in your mouth if it's dry and saliva isn't being produced, so drink water consistently throughout the day and eat every few hours, even if it's just a small snack

🌸 Take probiotics for mouth health to replace bad smelly bacteria with good bacteria

🌸 It's not too important, but if you're talking at close range with someone, you'll be able to smell if they have a scented lip product on, so if you want, put on a scented lipgloss, lipstick, or lip balm. My personal favourites are Glossier Birthday Cake lip balm and Fresh Rose Lip Treatment.

🌸 Chew a sprig of rosemary or mint after eating, it makes your breath smell clean and herbaceous.

🌸 A Princessy mouthwash recipe you can try is putting 60g of dried rose petals in 240ml of rosewater and heating gently for 2 hours, then straining and adding 180ml of liquid honey. As well as making your breath smell beautiful, it also helps to soothe a sore throat.

🌸 An underrated tip is to gargle with hot salt water to kill bacteria. This is good when you're somewhere without access to mouthwash.

🌸 If you take good care of your mouth hygiene but bad breath persists, you may have tonsil stones. You can extract them by rubbing a Qtip on your tonsil.

SIGNATURE SCENT

🌸 Learn your body chemistry. Get a variety of sample perfumes and see what they smell like after 30 minutes, 2 hours, a day. Scent profiles develop and change over time, and a perfume that smells good at first might not after a few hours. See what smells good consistently.

🌸 Apply Vaseline or a light unscented lotion to the area where you'll be spraying the perfume to make it last longer

🌸 Buy a rollerball of your favourite perfume so you can reapply when you're out and about if the scent of your perfume fades

🌸 If possible, spend money on a high end Eau de Parfum. 1 or 2 sprays will suffice, and the scent lasts all day. Sprays from Bath and Body and Victoria's Secret smell nice and all, but fade quickly.

🌸 Keep in mind that some perfumes may only be suitable for certain seasons. A light citrusy scent may be fine in summer, but confusing in winter

🌸 Scent rises, so rub scented lotion on your legs. If you want you can spray some scent inside your shoes or on your ankles.

🌸 Hot skin areas close to your veins like behind the knees, behind the ears, the back of the neck, and on the wrists are good areas to apply perfume. Currently, it's popular in the perfume community to spray on the stomach and forearms too.

🌸 If you're sensitive to perfumes, a perfume oil could be a good substitute (in former Ottoman countries, perfume oil is more popular than spray perfume).

🌸 Less is more with perfume. Never overspray. It's better for the scent to subtly creep up on people than to overwhelm them. Perfume should be intimate, a beautiful association people make with being close to you (isn't it a lovely idea that nobody will know that your hair smells like rose hair mist until your lover buries their face in it, or that your neck smells like Hypnotic Poison until your lover leans in to kiss it?)

🌸 Be aware that people may have sensitivities or allergies to perfume if you're going to be in an enclosed space, for example on an airplane, a cinema, or an office cubicle. It's okay just to smell clean rather than of perfume (Kate Middleton and Megan Markle don't wear any perfume at official state events for that reason).

🌸 Don't be afraid to ask other people about their opinions on your perfume. Of course, it's important that you like your perfume, but everyone else around you will have to smell it too. Some perfumes have associations that you may not necessarily want to portray. For example, Victoria's Secret perfumes are often associated with teenagers, and Chanel No.5 is often associated with grandmas. If you love them, you do you, but just keep this in mind if you're wary of creating certain associations with yourself.

🌸 Choose moisturising and hygiene products that go well with your signature scent. For example, vanilla or cocoa butter moisturiser with a perfume in the gourmand family of fragrances.

🌸 In the same vein as above, you can also choose moisturisers that add dimension to your signature scent, like making a floral perfume smell more summery by using a coconut moisturiser, or making a vanilla scent smell more Christmassy by using a peppermint body wash and lotion.

🌸 Don't mix scents that don't go well together. It will smell confusing if you use a warm vanilla sugar lotion with a musky perfume.

🌸 Don't overload on too many strongly scented products, it's overwhelming. If your perfume is very strong, use a lightly scented or unscented lotion.

🌸 It's okay to have more than one signature scent. The perfume you wear at the office doesn't have to be the same perfume you wear at parties, which doesn't have to be the perfume you wear relaxing at home.

🌸 It's also okay to have no signature scent, and just pick a perfume that fits your mood on a given day

🌸 Try and find a perfume that matches your lifestyle. If you're a minimalist, pick a fresh, light scent, such as Dolce and Gabbana Light Blue. If you love to bake and adore the smell of vanilla, sugar and buttercream, try a gourmand perfume, like Dior's Hypnotic Poison or Ariana Grande's Cloud. If you live an outdoorsy lifestyle, try a woody scent like Santal 33 by Le Labo. Your scent should match your vibe, if you're not naturally a party girl or a chic lady, don't try to fake it with perfume, it will just be confusing.

🌸 Don't pick a perfume you don't personally like just because someone else recommends it, like wearing a scent you find grandma-like just because someone said it will make you smell Old Money. You're the one who has to smell it all day

🌸 Spray a little perfume on your hair and wrists before going to sleep to feel soft, pretty, and luxurious, like a Princess or an Old Hollywood star

🌸 A tip from exotic dancers is to spray perfume right after showering, moisturise, then spray the perfume again to really lock in the scent

🌸 Read books like The Secret of Scent by Luca Turin, Fragrance and Wellbeing by Jennifer Peace Rhind, and Scent and Subversion by Barbara Herman to understand the science of scent and what smells great from the point of view of a perfume expert.

🌸 If you want free samples, try e-mailing a perfume house saying you've seen a promo of their perfume and would be interested in a complimentary sample (send your address too). Usually they read lots of complaints, so they'll be glad if they can make someone happy (this may not always work with every perfume house though). You can also go to a quiet counter at a boutique and ask for samples of a perfume you want, even tell them that you're young and can't afford much and they'll give away lots.

🌸 Science has shown that women are much more sensitive to musk scents than men, so lesbian/bi ladies may want to consider trying a musk scent while on a date. And as for men, they prefer lily of the valley, as well as gourmand scents like vanilla, cinnamon, and oddly, pumpkin and lavender together. [Source]

YONI

🌸 Take probiotics

🌸 Wear cotton underwear. Avoid tight underwear and underwear with dye if possible.

🌸 Sleep without underwear. Letting your yoni breathe is great for achieving an attractive smell

🌸 Don't clean your yoni with regular soap. It can throw off your pH, which can cause yeast infections and a bad smell. It's generally okay to use soaps specifically formulated for your vulva, or gentle soaps like Johnson's baby soap or Dove sensitive.

🌸 Drink natural 100% pineapple juice and cranberry juice, or buy pills with those respective ingredients in the health store. Even if you don't want to drink it all the time, drinking cranberry/pineapple juice an hour before intimacy will make you taste sweeter.

🌸 Instead of using scented feminine hygiene products (which are bad for you), change your pad or tampon regularly. Switch to menstrual cups if possible, as there will be no smell at all (whereas the pads and tampons themselves will start smelling bad if left for too long).

🌸 Rub some roll-on deodorant in the crevice where your inner thigh meets your vulva. It develops its own B.O smell (like a leg pit). Deodorant improves the smell immensely.

🌸 Make sure your partner has clean hands/a clean mouth before touching you sensually. Also, use a condom if possible, as ejaculate inside of you can mess up your pH balance

🌸 Use Dripsticks for post-sex clean-up

🌸 Boric acid suppositories after your period help rebalance microbial flora

🌸 Use a little water to rinse after you pee. You can buy a peri bottle for postpartum to make it easier

🌸 Make sure to only wash your vulva, not inside the vagina. The inside is a self-cleaning oven, and douching or even just inserting a finger with soap is bad for it. Avoid the inner, pink parts of the labia too.

🌸 Make sure there's no discharge build-up in your pubic hair

🌸 Clean well in-between the folds and under the clitoral hood so that sebum doesn't get trapped

🌸 Make sure not to scrub too hard, as it can make soap get somewhere it shouldn't or irritate a sensitive area

🌸 Use a hairdryer to dry after showering if you don't have the time to towel off till you're completely dry. It will stop you from feeling swampy and sweaty down there.

UNCATEGORISED

🌸 Keep feminine hygiene wipes, hand sanitiser, mini deodorant, mini dry shampoo, mini mouthwash, rollerball of perfume, scented hand cream, etc in your bag to freshen up during the day

🌸 It's obvious, but shower at least once a day. If you're having unusually hot weather or live in a warm climate, take a couple of quick showers throughout the day.

🌸 Use a very strong soap on your yoni, armpits, and feet, and scrub your armpits/feet very well as they retain scents.

🌸 If you sweat a lot during the night, take a light shower in the morning to get rid of the smell of stale sweat

🌸 Before your regular shower gel, use an antibacterial soap. It will kill bacteria that can make you smell bad.

🌸 Useful websites: Fragrantica, R/Perfumes, R/Fragrance, Parfumo, R/FemFragLab

🌸 Take parsley pills. It's like an internal deodorant. And fenugreek pills make you smell sweet like maple syrup

🌸 As well as on your armpits, put deodorant under your breasts as well, and anywhere else you may sweat a lot from (if you're spraying in the crease between your thighs and abdomen, make sure you have underwear on).

🌸 If you tend to sweat under your breasts a lot, you can buy cotton breast liners that absorb sweat on Amazon

🌸 If you're doing all that you can to prevent body odour but it persists, talk to your GP or dermatologist. You may need an antiperspirant stronger than what you can buy in shops, a PanOxyl wash, or even botox injections in your armpits

🌸 A tip from Marie Antoinette is to wear perfumed gloves

🌸 Don't eat too much onions, garlic, eggs, dairy, alcohol, processed foods, red meat, fast food, or vegetables like cauliflower and broccoli. The smell will seep through your skin (a little is fine, of course). And eat plenty of leafy greens.

🌸 Eat more fruit 🍎🍇🍍🍒🍓

🌸 Drink mint tea in the morning

🌸 An obvious tip, but hydrate, hydrate, hydrate. Drinking more water will help you sweat less. Plus fragrance doesn't last as long on dry skin

🌸 Avoid drinking too much alcohol or smoking cigarettes

🌸 Take chlorophyll supplements

🌸 If you tend to suffer from a sweaty face, wear a waterproof mascara and keep a setting powder on you

🌸 Most important tip of all: Stay hygienic! You need a good base for any of these tips to work. Spraying perfume and applying scented lotion on an unclean body is like putting a band-aid on a bullet wound.

🌸 And of course you don't have to use all of these tips (if anything, you'll probably end up creating a toxic fume cloud instead of a beautiful scent). Just find a few that work for you and incorporate into your routine.

[ryan-sometimes]

hi! you're the only biochemist i know so i have to ask this

my aunt recently got really into this holistic-sounding thing called healing immunity by transfer factors, tied to a very fishy company, 4life. in my understanding, they're preying on the lack of scientific proof that something /doesnt/ work to convince people that it /does/, based on reports of 'clients' that miraculously healed from various conditions from minor allergies to literally cancer, as well as preventing/curing >autism< 💀 problem is, she totally believes this bulshit and is giving them tons of money and trying to get the whole family to try it too

as a biochemist, I was wondering if you ever stumbled across transfer factors, know about any recent research on this field, or know the scientific explanation for why this is a load of baloney

thank you!

I’m familiar with transfer factors. A transfer factor is a chemical compound (often a protein) that is taken from an organism after it develops immunity against a disease. It’s part of immune cell signaling- it’s how your immune cells talk to each other.

But that’s the issue with pseudoscience. Oftentimes, they take something that has a small fraction of truth to it and then completely invent the rest.

Here’s the rest: transfer factors are often incredibly specific. So specific, in fact, that just two strains of the exact same bacteria could lead to two completely different factors being generated in response to them. Also, two different people infected by the exact same illness could generate different antibodies/transfer factors in response. Your immune system is as unique as your fingerprints.

Even if you took the antibodies/transfer factors from one person immune to a disease and injected them into someone currently afflicted by the disease, there’s no guarantee that it’ll make them immune as well. Cell signaling compounds are essentially words in the language your body uses to communicate with itself- and who knows if other people’s cells speak the same language?

For all you know, that transfer factor is telling your body something it might misunderstand completely. What if it “mishears” what that factor is trying to say? You could trigger an unwanted immune response! And that could potentially be even worse than just developing immunity naturally through exposure.

The field of transfer factors is still rudimentary- all of the real (actually scientific) research on injecting people with transfer factors to boost immunity is still very much in its experimental phase. Any company alleging to sell transfer factors to boost immunity is scamming you. Not even real medical companies are doing that yet, and if they could, they would. You know how money hungry pharmaceutical companies are.

Here’s one thing that’s certain: transfer factors cannot cure non immunity/infection related issues. Autism isn’t caused by a pathogen, how can your body develop an immune response to it when there’s nothing to fight? And regarding cancer, there’s already an existing field to treat cancer using your immune system: it’s called immunotherapy. And that will be given to you by a doctor, not some random company trying to sell glorified supplements. And for allergies? Get some antihistamines and an EpiPen.

The best way to boost your immune system is already available: vaccines. Vaccines prompt your body to make ITS OWN transfer factors and antibodies, which guarantees your cells will understand what those factors mean. And the transfer factors your body makes for itself will always be safer and more effective.

Real science beats pseudoscience.

[grossalpha]

HAVE YOU REALLY FINGERED A CERVIX? HOW?

YES I HAVE AND YOU (probably) CAN TOO!

It takes a lot of time and a lot of effort for very little real results but my boy seemed to enjoy it so heres how I did it;

first off, clean your fingers. under your nails too. file them down. whatever you need to do to not scratch your partner or introduce unwanted bacteria to their body.

Now, Ive found its easier to do after the bottom has cum once or is at least Very physically aroused and relaxed. Just take one finger and slowly work it into them until you reach the tip of the cervix. Make sure your finger is long enough to touch it without your nail making contact. You want the pad of your finger there, not the nail..

Just slowly circling the pad of your pointer finger around the enterance to the cervix and adding very very miniscule amounts of pressure. Do not expect to get inside of it, the goal is less to *enter* and more to work it open at first. Lube might help here but again, do not try to force entry. Just slow circles until it starts to give way naturally. With enough time and consistency, you can get a few millimeters inside, but the goal is to Not cause trauma to the body so dont force anything. Also, some people find it significantly less pleasurable than others which is completely normal! I find any sort of touch to my cervix incredibly painful but my boyfriend loves it. Learn yours and/or your partners body first.

I think thats pretty much it! As with anything else, be safe. This obviously carries its own set of risks with it as well (trauma, infection) and being aware of these things are equally if not more important than knowing how to do it.

And remember I'm not a sex educator or anything, just some guy on the internet who fucks weird style.

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Two - Dainty

W/C: 4.6K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

You need a job, The Bourbon needs a server. The math is there but the owner won't acknowledge it. How will you win over such a crabby man that only sees you as a gnat forcing its way into his space?

A/N: The response I received on the first part fic was so unexpected but I'm so glad everyone liked it!! I can't wait to get deeper into this story

Masterlist

Prev | Next

I’m sorry for running out so fast yesterday.

No.  Too forward.

I think we got off on the wrong foot, by we I mean me.

No, not sincere enough.

I just wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly—

“Excuse me, dear?”

Your train of thought was dissolved within seconds as you turned your focus to the older gentleman that had called for your attention.  A hum in place of an answer as your brows raised expectantly but ever so friendly awaited his follow up question.

“Can I just squeeze past you to grab that jar of peaches?”  He asks, wrinkles around his eyes upturned in perfect harmony with his smile.

“Of course.  Yes!”  Panicked, you rush to the other side of the aisle, the older man waving you off, insisting that it was ‘quite alright’ while he reached for his beloved peaches.

You’d been bouncing back and forth, up and down between several opening statements to provide Donnie, a sour taste left in your own mouth at the way you left her hanging the day before when she was merely being kind to you.  It was something you couldn’t stop, the anxiety eating away at your flesh like bacteria from the fact that you could’ve caused someone to be less than satisfied with their interaction with you, as if you were some kind of service.  People pleasing was a disease.

Sometimes the affected party was blind to its symptoms, oblivious to the way their illness consumed them.  And that’s why you found yourself purchasing a single pack of gum, eyes large and sorrowful before you were even next in line.  Various ways to get the point across were mentally rehearsed and the closer you got to the register, the more you focused on one singular sentence, clinging onto the desire to not stutter or mess it up.  

“Hey you’re back!”  Donnie greets.  “Thought for sure we’d scare you off by now.”

With a wince, you hand her your pathetic excuse of a conversation starter, a pack of spearmint gum with your trembling hand.  If she notices she doesn’t bring attention to it, instead she gracefully takes the pack and rings you up. 

“N-no, no.  I don’t scare that easily.”  You try to convince yourself more than her.

You note that the shop is nearly empty once again just after a handful of customers had done their shopping and went on with their day.  A few patrons still linger, carefully picking out each item from their weekly grocery list; however, you wouldn’t know they were there if not for the squeak of their carts every few feet as they inched forward.

“Could’ve fooled me.”  Donnie respectfully hands back the gum in exchange for your cash.  A crinkled five that had seen better days.

For a moment you debate fleeing once again, nerves tingling and breathing becoming shallow before internally reprimanding yourself.  You can cry all you damn well please in private but right now you need to stand up to the little voice in your head.  “Yeah.  Um, I just–I wanted to say I’m sorry for running out so suddenly like that.”  It didn’t come out as smooth as you’d planned but you’re hoping it came across as sincere enough.  If you could at least look forward to a friendly face at the supermarket every week, well it would be a win.

“Honey, I don’t get offended easily and it seemed like you had places to be.”  She waves a dismissive hand in the air at your apology, not unkindly, more so letting you know you didn’t need to be so formal with her.  And yet you couldn’t help yourself, an unwanted backstory spilling from your lips almost like second nature.  Excuses plucked from the top of your brain.

“I didn’t–I didn’t mean to leave and just not introduce myself.  I just got caught up, with moving and all–”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.  Just your name and we’ll call it good.”  A genuine smile stretches across her face, contagious enough that your lips tug upward as well as you offer your name, a proper introduction this time.

Your shoulders relax ever so slightly, not fully letting your guard down but no longer feeling the need to tense every muscle in your body.  It’s then that you realize that this is the only grocery store that you ever found visually appealing, with its darker toned walls and red checkered floors, the lighting not being so fluorescent and in your face, a bit dim even.  Which for some may be a flaw but for you it was perfect.  You don’t feel so exposed and couldn't be perceived so clearly, the ideal cocktail of a situation for someone so socially anxious.

“I, um, I saw your sign.”  You gesture to the letters reading ‘help wanted’ posted against the window.  If you could land a decent job then maybe living wouldn’t feel so terrifying.  Then again, several things would come into factor other than just your means of income.  

Donnie’s expression turns empathetic and you can feel your breath hitch in anticipation for a brutal rejection.  To be told that you had it all wrong, that you were too unprofessional and too meek and that your help was most definitely not wanted here, that you shouldn’t have even stepped foot in this town to begin with.  The five stages of grief practically take over in mourning over the loss of a potential job.

“I’m real sorry but we already filled the position.  Tom was supposed to take that down around two weeks ago.”  She sounds irritated at the mention of what you assumed to be her coworker.  “Can’t rely on anyone.”  She sighs, striding over to the window and pulling the sign from its temporary home only to abandon it behind the shelf that displayed several boxes of cigarettes.  

“Oh I’m–”

Before you can even begin to apologize for something completely out of your control, Donnie’s eyes light up at something, or rather, someone behind you.

“Hey, Ed!  Isn’t The Bourbon hiring?”

All she receives in return is silence and when you dare to peek over your shoulder behind you, you briefly meet the eyes of the neighbor you had the displeasure of running into twice the day before.  Today he fronts with a black leather jacket and the same black jeans with rips in the knees.  The only thing noticeably different is the chain now dangling at his side and the band shirt you’re unable to read, the letters obscured from your view.  Oh, and a few chunky rings decorating his hand that should make him look tacky as hell but somehow they pull the look together.  

“I dunno, who’s asking?”  He counters, brow raised as he glances at you once more.  You’d barely even spoken a few words to the guy and he was acting as if you committed the most heinous act against him.

“Ed.”  Donnie warns.

“Don, she wouldn’t last a day.”

You were beginning to think that this so-called ‘Ed’ was going to turn into an issue…fast.  Who was he to judge a stranger who he knew absolutely nothing about.  His audacity startled you and while you should step in and defend yourself, you can’t bring yourself to do it, tongue tied in every literal sense, words caught in the back of your throat like they were physical refrigerator magnets lodged in place.

“You don’t know that!”  She grins at him, a grin that silently says ‘watch it’.  “Honey, you got any work experience?”  Attention shifting to you, you felt as if you were burdening two people who had everything figured out in their quaint little lives, guilt plaguing your mind at the fact that you’d shaken things up between what seemed to be good friends or maybe even just well acquainted individuals.

“I–uh–yes.  Yes, I’ve worked at the–at the library and-and–”

“The library?”  Ed questions.  You didn’t dare answer, knowing very well he wasn’t seeking a response.  “What good would that do me in a bar?”

“Well I–”

“Think The Bourbon’s too rowdy for someone like you.”  He continues, only fueling your inner rage as well as pricking the embarrassment that held a permanent home within you, your cheeks flushing hot and palms becoming clammy.

“I’ve also worked at a diner.  Back home.”  Somehow you find a voice, one that isn’t shaky and timid but rather more calm and collected regardless of the absolute fear that pounded in your heart.  

Both Donnie and Ed stare, seconds passing that only feel like lightyears.  Ed still seems bored beyond comprehension, opening and shutting his wallet as he narrows his big brown eyes.  You aren’t sure what to do next, if you should make a dramatic exit once again or continue proving yourself to some stranger who had no business even making you do such a thing in the first place.

“A diner.”  

He says it like a statement rather than a question, as if to mock and discredit you.  

Tears are not an option, tears are not an option.  

“See she’s got experience!”  Donnie attempts to mend the situation, acting as an unofficial moderator.

“Don, no offense but I came here to buy the usual, not recruit.”  Some cash is slapped onto the counter, his patience clearly wearing thin by the way he begs with his eyes.  Donnie’s tolerance appears to be at a dangerously low level based on the glare she forces upon him.  You were beyond unprepared to witness a standoff in the middle of the supermarket at 5:00 PM on a Wednesday.

“Thought you were desperate for a server.”

There’s some bite behind her words, focus never wavering, the two seeming to have a telepathic conversation right before your eyes until Ed breaks the stillness in the air.

“Not in the slightest.  Can I have my shit now?”

Donnie’s sigh lets you know Ed has won and in the process, drained her energy.  Reluctantly, she snatches the cash from the counter and opens the register before grabbing a pack of cigarettes from the shelf behind her and handing them to him along with his change, an unfriendly exchange.  It doesn’t seem to bother him as he clutches the cash and the pack in his hand, not even sparing you another glance on his way out.

Clearing your throat, you pull Donnie’s attention away from the insufferable man now making his way down the cobblestone sidewalk outside.  “It’s okay.  I’m sure other places are hiring.”  

She rolls her eyes and you know it’s not meant for you but you can’t shake the paranoia that screams that she might be fed up with you as well.  “Don’t mind Eddie.  He acts like a hardass but he’ll come around.”

So his name is Eddie.  You only nod in response, unsure of where to steer the conversation from here.

“He’s like a scary dog.  He’ll roll over for the right people.  So if he doesn’t take to you, don’t take it personally.”  She advises.

“Yeah.”  You whisper.  

You were so going to take it personally.

–

As it turns out, no one in Knife’s Edge was hiring, not a single soul seeking a random girl from out of town who urgently needed a job.  Not that you could blame them, they had it all figured out.  Many of the shops were owned by families thus being run by said families and not requiring the additional expense that would come with hiring another person.  And those that did seem to hire outside of their family had already filled in every necessary position.  

Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.  This is what you get for uprooting your life and sticking it somewhere it probably didn’t belong.

And now you were moping along the cobblestone, trying to figure out how to pay the bills, working out how much of your savings you could survive off of until you’d run out.  Then The Bourbon came into view.  Almost like it wanted you to see it, the beaming red lights spelling out its name specifically for you to see.  Mainly because it was the only place you knew to be hiring despite what Ed–or–Eddie–whatever his name was, had said in his unpleasant remarks from earlier.  It seemed to be your only shot at employment.

The bar had a few neon signs flashing in the window, one being the very obvious ‘open’ sign and then of course one that read ‘happy hour’ with a margarita.  The rest appeared to be different beers they might have on tap.  It didn’t look like anything fancy but didn’t seem like a hole in the wall either.  The exterior was paneled in wood just like almost every other building in the area, giving it a cabin feel without actually being a cabin.

Dread settled in the pit of your stomach from just staring at the place so if you were going to act, it needed to be now, before said dread morphed into pure panic.  This was going to determine your foreseeable future, if you couldn’t land this job then you might as well toss yourself right back down that mountain with no money and no plan, right back to square one.

The door was heavy, built out of metal and a bell ringing just above, notifying any staff and patrons of your presence which you could do without but you had to push yourself.  If they were staring, your gaze was glued to the ground and you didn’t notice, too occupied in rehearsing an improvised script in your head.  Some kind of rock or metal song blasted through the bar and you weren’t sure if it was overstimulating or comforting.  Your initial thought was that for being in a small town, they would be inclined to play country music so it only relieved you that your possible future workplace wouldn’t be subjecting you to the unbearable twang you just couldn’t seem to stand.  You’d endure it when all was said and done but it was appreciated that it was one less nuisance in your life.

It was a standard bar, the atmosphere mellow with dull lighting and a haziness smelling of tobacco swirling throughout the room.  What immediately drew you in was the obvious game of bingo, suddenly shifting what was a designated spot for happy hour and a cheap therapy session with the bartender into a retirement home full of seniors.  A man that looked to be in his fifties sat on a stool on the tiny stage in the corner, calling out numbers, which elicited a few victory yells from those who had obviously been having better luck.  

However odd the scene may be, several senior citizens occupying the tables of a bar at happy hour, business still seemed to be booming considering that it was a weekday.  Aside from the group of elderly yet energetic individuals, there were also what looked to be the regulars perched on their assigned stools at the actual bar.  They paid no mind to the intense game happening behind them, sipping away at their beers and mixed drinks leisurely.

A vacant seat called to you, two more on each side guaranteeing that you could sit comfortably without awkwardly scooting in next to someone and disturbing their possible winding down time, no doubt trying to blow off some steam after work.  That’s why people came to bars, right?  It was lost on you, this wasn’t your scene and if you’re truthful, you’re not even sure you should be here begging for a job in the first place.  That Ed guy clearly didn’t take a liking to you and though you didn’t exactly have any knowledge on his role within The Bourbon, he seemed like he had a say in the day to day operations just based on the tiny snippets of information you picked up on.  Hopefully someone with the same level of authority would be working now and actually respect you as a person enough to at least give you a chance.  

Playing it cool—as cool as one could be with constant nagging thoughts and shot nerves, you decide to plant yourself down on the stool, the worn leather material partially squeaking in protest as you wiggle into a comfortable enough position, setting your bag in your lap and clutching it in paranoia.  A glance from the left to the right and back to the left lets you know that no one seems to mind your presence though you still close in on yourself regardless, taking up the least amount of space possible.

The bartender, a man maybe in his early twenties who had short dark hair seems preoccupied as he shakes a drink while balancing a conversation with another man at the end of the bar, the two laughing every other sentence like old friends.  And so you wait.  Never intentionally draw attention to yourself and never disturb anyone else’s night until you find it polite to chime in when the bartender doesn’t seem as busy.  Even then, he doesn’t hear your small ‘excuse me’ every time he rushes by onto his next task.

A sad little ghost settled among lively customers, you don’t seek pity, only a glance your way so that you could get this over with and either face rejection or anxiously resume the job search.  Though no one seems to bother looking your way, you can’t help the heat traveling to your cheeks in pure humiliation, the fact that you’re the only thing out of place weighing heavily on your mind.  More celebratory howls and yells sound from behind you, the room erupting into laughter shortly after from a joke you didn’t care to understand.  Even a few select chuckles are heard from the men scattered along the bar.

“Do you just not listen?”

A familiar voice breaks through your thoughts, forcing you to peek up from where your focus remained on the bartop, where moments before you’d seemed entranced by the surface.  In reality you were running in circles in your head, hoping to make sense of your current situation.  Through your lashes you saw him.  Ed.  Or Eddie.  You didn’t put much effort into feeling too bad for not remembering his actual name, especially when he’d never even had the decency to ask for yours.  His leather jacket was absent from his torso, now only showing off a plain black t-shirt that also allowed you a view of various tattoos scattered along his arms.  You were first drawn to the faded bats on his forearm before becoming puzzled by what seemed to be some kind of a doodle on his inner bicep, not a very good one at that.  And then you remembered he’d asked you a question.

“I’m not allowed to have a drink?”  You ask innocently.  Genuine innocence.  No sarcasm.  You weren’t brave enough for that.

“Only if you’re not here to also beg for a job.”  He grumbles.  A man a few stools over gestures down for another round and in response, Eddie nods coolly.  With a certain kind of smoothness, he pulls a new glass out before slamming it down on the counter.  “If you are, the answer is still no.”  The way he quickly pours liquor into the shaker seems so effortless, measurements probably burned into his brain that allow for more efficiency on busy nights.

“Can I at least speak to someone in charge?”  You do your best to keep your voice steady and unwavering in the presence of someone with infinitely more confidence than you, his eye contact never breaking.

“You’re lookin’ at him, doll.”

His voice drips with his signature condescending tone, the corner of his mouth pulled up slightly in a smirk.  One that tells you that you’ve hit a dead end. 

“You—oh.”  Like an idiot, you swallowed any words that bubbled in your throat, unable to find it within yourself to at least come up with a snarky comeback.

“We’re not hiring.”

“That-that’s not what Donnie said.”  Lousy.  The argument just seemed to fall from your tongue involuntarily, not much thought put behind it before coming to fruition.  It would only give him more ammo.

His eyes further surveyed you, meticulously analyzing your every move, every twitch of every muscle in your face.  An unwanted spotlight shining on you, revealing every flaw in your approach to the current conversation.  You wanted a job and he wanted nothing to do with you, your last statement only sealing your fate, only giving him more reason to deny your advances.

“Donnie doesn’t work here does she?”  Without expression, he begins expertly shaking his concoction, forearms flexing with the movement.  He was a character, some kind of figment of your imagination.  He had to be.  You’d never encountered someone so standoffish, so ill-tempered, especially toward someone he’d never even met before, already passing judgment on you based on seconds of interaction.

Ignoring his rhetorical question, which came off as more of a deterrent than anything, you pursue a fair conversation, a deserving interview at the very least.  “Listen, I’m a really hard worker and—“

“And a fast learner right?”

The interruption was unwelcomed though you gave no indication that it was, face set in a straight expression as you processed his uncivil personality.  You couldn’t even find it in you to convey shock, your brain malfunctioning upon his words, outdoing himself with every sentence he uttered.

“Well, yes.”

“Of course.  And you can multitask too I bet?”

This wasn’t the interview you were hoping for, this was downright degrading.

“If you would just let me talk.”  You plead, fingers digging into the wood of the bartop.

“Listen, kid.”  The liquid he had been shaking for quite some time is poured into the glass, an amber colored liquor filled to the brim.

Kid?  

If you had the guts you would degrade him right back.  But you were you and you could only sit and take each hit to your fragile mental state with as much grace as possible.  And soon after the tears would come.  Not yet, though.  Not just yet.

“You look like you’re about to cry and you haven’t even been hired.  What makes you think you can handle a full house on a Friday night?”  The drink is topped off with an orange twist and a black cherry before he slides it to its awaiting consumer, not a drop spilling over the edge of the glass, clearly a perfected craft that he was proud of.

When he’s met with silence you gather that he thinks he’s won just by the smug look on his face, barely there but still evident nonetheless.  That little voice inside your head screams at you to keep pushing, keep bugging him until he has to give in.  Even if by pure annoyance.  And although you can feel yourself trembling in terror, something urges you to just gulp down the fear and prod at the arrogant man just beyond the bar.

“I work well under pressure, I’m very organized, I’ll clean on my down time…”  You begin to list off your abilities and if he wanted to stop listening, the way he glared at you wasn’t convincing you that he was going to.

This time his response is delayed rather than the other way around, suddenly at a loss for words as his large eyes take in your sudden change in demeanor.  Your slight assertiveness takes him by surprise, you can tell from his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish.  It’s all a front for you to at least get one foot in the door but as they say, ‘fake it ‘til you make it’.

“No.”  He answers suddenly, sternly.  His disinterest is obvious when he pulls out a rag and starts wiping down the counter, no longer letting his gaze fall on you but instead, the droplets he works vigorously to clean up.

If he wants a fight, then a fight he shall receive. 

“I’m a team player, I’m super reliable, my time is flexible, if you need me in a pinch consider it done–”

“Do you understand social cues?”  

Ouch.  If you had an inflated ego it would’ve surely been destroyed by now but you were already working with close to nothing.

“Yes.”  You reply, not a trace of sarcasm, only an honest answer.

“So I think by now you’d understand.  We.  Are.  Not.  Hiring.”  Each word is enunciated and slathered thickly with bitterness, topped with the intention to send you running like a dog with its tail tucked in between its legs.  

What he doesn’t know is that your soft spoken voice and bashful exterior isn’t all there is to you and that deep down, if you wanted something, you were stubborn and able to manipulate the situation should it be required in the most dire of situations.  Whether it would work on him seeing as he was also just as stubborn, if not more, you weren’t sure yet.

“Are you turning me away because I’m a woman?”  

The pure horror in his eyes almost makes you chuckle because now you know you have the upper hand and had anyone overheard, they would probably question their beloved local bartender’s work ethic.  

“I mean–not that I’m accusing you…”  You were definitely accusing.  “I just don’t see any other women working and–”

It doesn’t have the effect you’re hoping for as he leans toward you, forearms resting on the bar, his eyes returning back to their spiteful nature while he taps his clunky rings against the surface in thought.

“I’m turning you away because you don’t belong in a place like this.  Things can get rough and you’re…too dainty.”  His voice is much more hushed than before but his expression remains serious, without a trace of that stupid smirk.

Dainty?  Dainty.  Noted.

“What–you don’t think a woman can handle–”

“It’s not about you being a woman.”  He seethes.  “It’s about the fact that you are dainty.  Polite.  Shy.  I can’t have that when I’ve got a few drunks refusing to leave at 2:00 AM.”  

“I know when to hold my own.  Especially if it's for a job.”  You attempt to convince him.

“What, so you’re just gonna respectfully tell them to leave, then what?  These guys get out of hand, I can’t be babysitting you, I’ve got a business to run.”  He reasons, straightening his posture, conversation already forgotten as he starts to turn away before you speak up again.

“At least let me prove you wrong before you dismiss me.”  You quietly demand, hands clasped in front of you.  “Think I can handle a group of senior citizens.”  You motion to the intense bingo game still going strong behind you.  

With a roll of his eyes, he seems to ponder his thoughts, bouncing them around in his head.  An exasperated sigh escapes his parted lips while a hand drags down his tired face.  

“One night.  A trial.  If you can handle it, fine.  You’ve got a job.”  He finally declares.  “But if I have to stop what I’m doing to babysit you or you so much as–”

“I’ll find another job.  Promise.”  You nod persuasively, a glimmer in your eyes that he doesn’t miss but quickly ignores.

“Good.  Tomorrow night.  Eight.  And just this one time you can park in the back lot.”

He tries to dismiss himself again but your next question forces him to linger a little bit longer.  He was patient, you’d give him that.

“Wait–what, what’s the dress code?”  You ask sheepishly, a contrast to the business woman you’d molded into just seconds before.

He does a once over, as if to judge your fashion choices but what he ends the conversation with only leads you to think that he favors one word way too much.  

“Casual.  Nothing too dainty.”

~end~

Masterlist

Prev | Next

tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel

[npd-characters-tournament]

Propaganda

Poe

No propaganda submitted

---

Xanthomonas "Xanthe"

Everyone's favourite bigender narcissist scene queen/king. a myspace celebrity in the mid 2000s, he's famous for his music but even more so for his drama. a living embodiment of the "h8rz maek meh famouz xx" and "make a scene" era of the internet, she'd rather get attention from hate than ever be forgotten. the propaganda is that he comes from a story about redemption and shining light on the "unwanted/bad/unhelpable" victims and is written with explicit intention of honoring narcissism as well as other PDs in its full range and depth with a more compassionate and anti-stigma lens. ALSO HE'S MY SPECIAL LITTLE BOYGIRL AND HE CAN CAUSE AS MUCH DRAMA AS SHE WANTS TO, ITS ENTERTAINING we love to see it. RAWR XD it up !!!! one vote for xanthe is one vote for the spread of xanthomonas bacteria !!

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

This may be an entirely speculative question, but could there be infectious diseases on Gallifrey that are passed telepathically? If there could be, would they also be treated telepathically in a way that prevents transmission to a medical professional?

Could there be infectious diseases on Gallifrey that would transmit telepathically?

For absolute sure, there are a whole plethora of nasties out there just waiting to infect your psychic Gallifreyan. We don't know that much about transmission patterns, though we can definitely explore the area.

🦠 Types of Infections

These could come in several forms, all of which might thrive in particular areas and have a different presentation of symptoms.

Viral: Psionic viruses that hijack telepathic signals, spreading through mental links and causing disruptions in neural pathways.nSome common symptoms may include:

High fever

Intense headaches

Telepathic noise (unwanted mental chatter)

Hallucinations

Bacterial: Psionic bacteria thriving in psionic energy fields, spreading through shared mental and physical spaces. Some common symptoms may include:

Inflammation of neural tissues

Difficulty focusing telepathic abilities

Severe migraines

Parasitic: Mind parasites that feed on psionic energy, spreading through telepathic contact. Some common symptoms may include:

Draining of telepathic strength

Lethargy

Distorted perception of reality

🔁Transmission

Telepathic Link: Gallifreyans have telepathic connections to others, and Time Lords are part of an intricate network. Those mental links could theoretically transmit infectious agents.

Biological Proximity: Somebody with particularly strong telepathic powers might generate a kind of field around them, which could be infectious.

Residual Imprints: Visiting areas or objects with strong psionic imprints left by infected individuals could also be a transmission method.

🩺 Treatment and Prevention

You can bet your bottom dollar Gallifreyan doctors have some standard ways to handle them:

Mental Barriers: Infected Gallifreyans might be encouraged to build mental walls to contain the disease and stop the spread as a form of - dare I say - self-isolation.

Isolation Fields: Hospitals would have special isolation fields and other tech to block telepathic signals, keeping the disease from jumping to other patients or medical staff.

Psionic Cleansing: Highly-trained 'psycho-healers' might dive into the patient’s mind to locate and neutralise the infection, sort of like a mental deep-clean.

Mental Shields: Both patient and healer would use strong mental shields during treatment to avoid spreading the disease.

Symbiotic Assistance: Time Lords with a strong connection to their TARDIS might be able to utilise it for help.

Psionic Medical Machines: These gadgets might emit controlled psionic waves to disrupt the infectious agent in the mind, but they'd have to be flawlessly calibrated to avoid damaging the patient.

Neural Realignment: Fancy neurotech could realign neural pathways, flushing out the disease and fixing any mental messes it caused.

Offworld Aids: There are plenty of races that are far more versed in psionics than Gallifreyans who might be able to help.

🏫 So ...

While telepathic disease transmission on Gallifrey is pretty speculative, it fits right into the unique quirks of Gallifreyan life. Advanced telepathic and tech treatments would probably be key to handling such diseases, keeping Gallifreyans healthy and their minds clear.

Related:

Factoid: How do Gallifreyans form intimate telepathic relationships?

What's the full extent of a Gallifreyan's psychic powers?: The uses and limitations of Gallifreyan psychic abilities.

Gallifreyan Psionics: An Overview: A brief overview of abilities [to be replaced]

Hope that helped! 😃

Any purple text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →😆Jokes |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired😴

[ataleofcrowns]

Hi, I don't know if this has been asked yet or not but, how do the healer's abilities work? Is there a limit to what they can heal or can they heal anything given time and the right recourses and knowledge? Are they able to aid with medical issues a person has had since childhood? Like glasses for poor vision, for example. Sorry if this is too long, reading how Ezo's arm was healed got me thinking

I actually posted this as part of extra lore on the Patreon sometime last year, but this is also something that will be expanded on in the story, so I figured I'll add it for this ask as well! Under a read more because it's quite lengthy.

To address your questions first, though, the short answer: healing magic can pretty much only mend physical injuries and boost someone's immune system. You can't use healing magic to correct more complex medical issues like poor vision, hearing loss, or even serious illnesses.

Longer answer beneath the cut!

Healing magic, aside from using alchemy, relies heavily on a specific type of aura magic. Essentially, to become a healer, a user must train their aura to become a healing type: this is often done by long periods of meditation in locations that have high concentrations of magic from nature.

These are often considered sacred locations, commonly called Sacred Sites, and they are also where a lot of spirits tend to gather. For example, think of an ancient tree, or a mountaintop, or an oasis in the desert. The abundance of natural magic in these locations makes it so that they're rejuvenating to anyone who visits them, and temples are often built within or near such sites.

Once someone has spent a long enough time in one of these locations, soaking up the natural magic, their aura will gradually take on these same qualities. To be able to soak up the magic itself requires training and a high level of discipline. If an untrained person attempts this, they risk "overloading" their magic pathways by absorbing too much magic all at once, and thereby risk organ failure or even death.

Assuming the person soaking up the natural magic is trained, however, they can then use their aura to rejuvenate and heal other people, accelerating the healing process of their body to close up an injury or bolster their immune system. 

The obvious drawback is that the healing aura will eventually return to normal the longer you spend away from a Sacred Site. This necessitates regular visits and meditations in order to keep healing people. Also, healing magic cannot cure severe diseases on its own. While it boosts your immune system, people rely on alchemical tonics and potions to cure them from illnesses. 

However, as people in this world don't have a proper conception of what causes disease (they don't know about bacteria or viruses, etc), alchemical cures can only help so much. In the case of a natural disease caused by a virus, the most people in this world can do is bolster someone's immune system and treat the symptoms with alchemy, and hope that helps enough to have someone survive. As such, plagues are still a big problem in this world. 

There are magic-related issues that healing magic and alchemy can help with very well, though, such as when someone's magic core or their magic paths in the body don't function properly.

For example, if someone's body is weak after suffering from illness or injury for a long time, this can affect or damage the magic paths in their body as well. It can cause unwanted side effects, such as someone's own magic damaging their own body, or randomly casting magic when unintended and causing damage to their environment/others around them. In such a situation, healing can work very well to help restore these paths.

[ice-and-lightning]

@starlighttrain sent an ask with an awkward, needy dragon, which I asked for

Dan Heng makes an effort to visit Herta Station more frequently these days, time spent with Arlan deeply enjoyed no matter the activity. And while yes he is listening to the other explain some new adjustments to the security system and how it's simple enough the Express might benefit from something similar (mental notes being made—he is attentive), he thinks he might understand now why Arlan had wanted to take his hand previously. Something in him is craving physical contact. And since they had initiated last time... Uncovered hand reaches forth to gently grasp Arlan's, soft rumble emanating his chest as he does so. (as well as a tint to his cheeks) Yes, that's much better. And though strange feeling not quite sated, it's enough. This touch is enough. And just in case his actions pause Arlan's own, ❝Keep going. I'm still listening.❞

Arlan always takes great pleasure in seeing his friend. Especially since it's becoming more frequently as of late. When possible, Arlan visits the Express too. It's part of his tries to delegate more of his work.

This time, he is excitingly showing a new security update, one that could be adapted to the Express to help unwanted guests materialising inside the train. Of course, that function already exists, but this is a more advanced version of it with more adaptable bio-filters.

Unlike with most others, Arlan isn't worried that Dan Heng will find the topic boring, safety is a priority they both share, knowing the other is listening even when quiet. As he keeps talking, having once again removed his gloves, he feels a sudden touch. Feels fingers intertwining with his own and his air gets knocked out of his lungs.

Not only is there a most welcome touch, there is that sound, the purring sound and he can feel himself smile, a hint of a blush on his own cheeks, matching the blue on Dan Heng's. Shyly, he gets a little closer, their arms now slightly pressed together. It's all a little awkward since Arlan is much shorter, but none of them seems to mind that. The touch, the closeness, is much more important for them both. Or at least that's how it seems.

"Uhm.. yes..." Where was he? Oh, yes! "As I mentioned, these filters can be more finely tunes, to both exact bio-maps and wider ones, like, allowing everyone with Vidyadhara in their genes, but not ones without it or making it possible so only the crew and no one else can enter. It can also filter out unknown viruses and bacteria." For most, this would indeed be a boring topic, but hopefully, Dan Heng finds it as fascinating as himself. It's all much better by their physical connection.

Though, Arlan wants more. For once he is cursing that he has the height of a child, otherwise, he might try to put his arm around Dan Heng's shoulders, in a kind of side-hug. Because that's what he truly wants, he wants to hug him. He actually wants to nuzzle the side of his neck, take in his scent, but these are things he'd never say. All of it way too weird. Especially is he were to add that he also wants to rub his own wrists against him. The thought of it immediately makes his blush deepen. Arlan really doesn't understand why he feels these needs: the need to be physically close and the need to leave his scent on him. It has to be something borisin and that is not something he'd want to expose anyone to.

For now, the hand-holding, a thumb gently running across knuckles, arms lightly pressed together, will have to do.

[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.

[shiningthroughpcos]

Understanding Laser-Based Hair Reduction (LBHR): A Tailored Solution for PCOS

Living with PCOS often means managing a range of challenging symptoms, including hirsutism, or excessive hair growth. For many of us, finding a reliable and long-term solution to reduce unwanted hair feels like an endless journey. Laser-Based Hair Reduction (LBHR) stands out as a promising option—especially for those grappling with the persistent, stubborn hair growth that accompanies PCOS.

LBHR uses advanced technology to target the hair follicle beneath the surface of the skin, addressing the root cause rather than offering a temporary fix. This precision sets LBHR apart from traditional methods like shaving and waxing. This is why we recommend shaving before your session; we’re targeting the melanin in the root of the hair follicle rather than the hair shaft itself.

The Science Behind LBHR

Contrary to popular belief, LBHR does not target hair directly. Instead, it employs concentrated light to focus on the pigment within the hair follicle (Ibrahimi et al., 2011). The concept of selective photothermolysis (SPTL) is crucial here, as it selectively damages the hair follicle while protecting the surrounding skin, leading to long-term results (Ibrahimi et al., 2011).

The extended theory of SPTL suggests that laser treatment can effectively disrupt the stem cells and nutrients within the bulge of the hair follicles through the diffusion of heat, significantly delaying terminal hair growth (Ibrahimi et al., 2011). Unlike waxing or shaving, which offer temporary solutions, LBHR leads to lasting changes in hair growth patterns, making it particularly valuable for those with hirsutism (Kang et al., 2021).

The Theory Behind Laser Based Hair Reduction [Image]. (2019). DermaNu Clinic. https://www.dermanuclinic.com/blog/laser-hair-removal-and-how-does-it-work.aspx

Why LBHR is a Game-Changer for Managing PCOS Symptoms

For those of us with PCOS, excess hair growth can feel overwhelming and exhausting. We’ve already discussed how hormonal imbalances, particularly elevated levels of androgens (male hormones), lead to hair that grows thicker and faster. While traditional hair removal methods like shaving or waxing may seem more accessible and cost-effective in the short term, they only provide temporary relief. These methods often require frequent maintenance—whether weekly or bi-weekly—which can quickly become burdensome.

LBHR offers a more targeted, long-term approach. One of its key advantages for people with PCOS is its ability to significantly reduce hair over time. By damaging the hair follicle and the cells responsible for regrowth, laser treatments decrease both the density and thickness of hair, impeding the rate of growth and leading to longer-lasting results.

Many of us with PCOS have noticed visible changes—hair that grows back slower, finer, and thinner after consistent laser sessions. Since a full hair growth cycle takes around a month, it’s important to schedule your initial treatments about four weeks apart to target hair during its active growth phase. While it’s impossible to pinpoint the exact phase each individual hair is in (as each one can be in a different phase), treating hair every four weeks increases the likelihood of targeting a significant portion during the anagen phase. This approach helps weaken the hair progressively, session by session.

Additional Benefits Beyond Hair Reduction

Skin Texture and Odour Management

In addition to reducing hair growth, LBHR helps improve skin texture and manage odour. For people with PCOS, hirsutism can sometimes result in rough skin, often known as “chicken skin” (keratosis pilaris). With less hair growth, the skin’s surface gradually smooths out over time.

LBHR also helps reduce body odour by minimising hair in areas where sweat and bacteria tend to accumulate. This can be especially helpful for those who struggle with odour related to excessive hair growth, as less hair means fewer places for moisture and bacteria to be trapped.

Minimises Ingrown Hairs

One of the major benefits of LBHR, particularly for individuals with PCOS, is the reduction of ingrown hairs. Unlike waxing or shaving, which can lead to ingrown hairs as the hair grows back, laser treatments target the hair follicle itself, thereby reducing the chances of hair growing incorrectly beneath the skin.

Time-Saving in the Long Run

While LBHR may require an initial commitment of several sessions, it ultimately saves time in the long run. People with PCOS often have to deal with daily or weekly maintenance using other methods, whereas LBHR significantly extends the period between hair regrowth, reducing the time and effort spent on hair removal.

Less Irritation

Unlike traditional methods like shaving, which can lead to irritation, razor burns, and cuts, or waxing, which can cause skin trauma, laser treatments tend to be gentler on the skin when performed by a trained clinician. This makes LBHR a great option for individuals with sensitive skin, including those dealing with PCOS-related sensitivity.

Improved Confidence and Emotional Wellbeing

For many with PCOS, excessive hair growth can be a source of insecurity. The long-term results from LBHR can contribute to improved self-confidence and emotional wellbeing, as it minimises the need for constant hair removal and reduces the psychological burden of managing hirsutism.

Weighing the Challenges of LBHR for PCOS

However, LBHR isn't without its challenges. The process requires multiple sessions over several months, which can be both time-consuming and costly. The financial commitment is often the largest barrier, especially since those with PCOS typically need to treat larger areas of the body where hair growth is most excessive. Depending on the severity of hirsutism and an individual’s hair type, results may vary. While I and many others with PCOS have experienced a reduction in hair growth, it’s crucial to understand that LBHR does not permanently remove hair. Rather, it reduces it, and hormonal fluctuations can still lead to regrowth. I know I’ve mentioned this before, and it may seem repetitive, but it’s frustrating to see how often LBHR is misadvertised as a permanent solution.

A specific challenge we've touched on previously—and which is essential to emphasize—is paradoxical hypertrichosis. This condition occurs when the heat from the laser stimulates hair growth in areas where it was previously sparse or absent. This is most likely to happen when non-hairy areas are treated or where the hair is finer and lighter. Since laser targets the pigment in the hair follicle, it can be less effective on finer hair, complicating proper targeting. If paradoxical hypertrichosis does occur, the only way to manage this unexpected hair growth is through continued treatments at higher settings. This underscores the importance of only treating areas where hair growth is already a concern and being cautious of clinics that offer full-body laser packages without proper consultation. While these packages may seem cheaper in the short term, they could lead to more frustration down the line.

It’s also important to address a common misconception, much like with shaving, that laser can increase hair growth in certain cases. Paradoxical hypertrichosis most often occurs on the face and neck for women, as well as the upper torso for men and individuals with hormonal imbalances. It’s more common than many realize, affecting up to 10% of laser clients, particularly those from ethnic backgrounds associated with darker and coarser hair. I wish someone had informed me about this earlier because, having started laser treatments at a young age, I’ve personally experienced hair growth on my back where I previously had very little. This has been a frustrating outcome, and I’m sharing this to ensure others don’t face the same situation unknowingly.

Making Informed Choices

As we navigate the complexities of LBHR, it’s essential to approach treatment with a well-informed perspective. While LBHR has proven to be a valuable option for many, understanding both its potential and limitations can empower individuals with PCOS to make the best decisions for their unique circumstances.

Education and Consultation

Before starting LBHR, thorough consultations with experienced clinicians are crucial. They can provide tailored advice based on individual hair types, skin tones, and specific needs. It’s also important to have open conversations about any concerns regarding paradoxical hypertrichosis and other potential side effects, especially how LBHR interacts with sun exposure and medications. This proactive approach ensures that you’re prepared for the process and can make necessary adjustments based on your body’s responses.

Realistic Expectations

Setting realistic expectations is key. While many individuals see significant improvements in hair density and texture, it’s essential to remember that each person’s experience can and will vary. Some may require fewer sessions, more sessions, or different settings to achieve their desired results. By acknowledging this variability, you can reduce the risk of frustration and disappointment as you embark on your hair reduction journey.

Holistic Approach to PCOS Management

Finally, it’s vital to view LBHR as part of a broader strategy for managing PCOS symptoms. Combining laser treatments with lifestyle changes and medical management can yield even more benefits. This holistic approach can help address not just excess hair growth but also other aspects of PCOS, such as hormonal imbalances and skin health.

While LBHR offers a promising solution for those grappling with the challenges of hirsutism due to PCOS, it’s crucial to remain educated, set realistic goals, and seek professional guidance. By doing so, you can navigate this journey with confidence, taking significant steps toward reclaiming your comfort and self-esteem. If, after following along, you decide that LBHR is not the right option for you, that’s completely understandable. The most important thing is having all the information needed to help you arrive at this conclusion.

Until next time, Luciana 🤍

References

Ibrahimi, O. A., Avram, M. M., Hanke, C. W., Kilmer, S. L., & Anderson, R. R. (2011). Laser hair removal. Dermatologic Therapy, 24(1), 94-107. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1529-8019.2010.01382.x

The Theory Behind Laser Based Hair Reduction [Image]. (2019). DermaNu Clinic. https://www.dermanuclinic.com/blog/laser-hair-removal-and-how-does-it-work.aspx

[nichenarratives]

Bittersweet

An Obscure Oneshot

Inspiration art by: Tracy J Butler

The night is stiflingly still, interrupted only occasionally by a poorly concealed drunken hiccup or the murmur of cabbies working late, ferrying the conspicuously intoxicated home before the local police can lock them. The street lamps have long been lit, the oil burning low in the city smog, illuminating narrow pools of cobbled streets in hazy orange light.

Mordecai is used to the dark; his job - both past and present - demands discretion and secrecy, making the cover of night perfect for his needs. There's no better time to assassinate targets, equalize grudges or raze a competitor's warehouse to the ground than while the pillars of society slumber. The night is his armour and often, his advantage.

Tonight isn't just another job, however. Tonight is personal.

Apartments are always harder to break into. Not only does one have to find a way into the building but also the correct unit, all without being heard or seen. Thankfully, having lived within the city for over a decade, Mordecai has a vast pool of experience to draw upon, making this house call just as easy as any other assignment.

Rather than breaking into the lobby, he finds a window on the second storey to squeeze through, likely left open to quell the scent of mold and mildew infecting the walls. It's a revoltingly familiar smell, one that calls forth memories the tom would much rather leave forgotten: his mother crying on the stairs after Hannah passed in her arms, suffocated by the fungus in her lungs…

Uncomfortable emotions swell in his chest, a swift reminder to squash them down. Focus, he chides himself. Now is not the time for sentiments. Wrinkling his nose, he gets back to work. Retrieving the lock pick kit from his coat, he crouches in front of his target's door. Mordecai dare not put his ear directly to the grimy wood, but in the serene silence of the night, he doesn't have to; the click of success is almost deafening in the tiny hallway.

He slips his tools away and with a hand on a gun concealed within his jacket, steps inside.

Mordecai pushes the door barely wide enough to slip through, aware its rusting hinges would creak if opened a crack more, then closes it almost soundlessly behind him. There he pauses, large ears poised for any movement or threat, but greated only by the strained, heavy breaths of an injured man sleeping roughly in his favourite chair, the tom allows himself a second to relax.

As wide eyes adjust to the darkness, they scour the room in its entirety. The apartment is in worse shape than predicted; crusting cups, plates and bowls amounting to days of use and a pile of untreated bandages that smell suspiciously of puss are the worst offenders. Bacteria notwithstanding, a number of magazines are scattered aimlessly around the man's feet and a broken radio sits dejected in the darkness on the windowsill, its cogs on full display for all to marvel at.

With ears folding back and a disgusted curl of his lip, his gaze shifts to his target. The hulking ginger bobcat wheezes in the armchair, legs propped up on an ottoman Mordecai doesn't recall being previously present. His eye patch rests on a side table, and a heavy blanket across his lap has been tucked meticulously under the armpits, turning the once intimidating man into a rattling, cozy burrito.

Viktor grimaces with every breath, occasionally pausing to hiss through grit teeth before exhaling to begin the cycle anew. Seeing his old friend in such a state - and knowing he is the direct cause of his pain - raises unwanted empathy to the surface. This is why he doesn't try to make friends out of accomplices; loyalties shift, people die, plans change. Mordecai sighs and releases the butt of his pistol.

It's easier not to care, or you end up visiting old allies in the dead of night to check on them, forgetting they're an enemy.

All he can deduce tonight is he feels… something. It's not the burning anger of betrayal or frustration with a job gone awry. It's not even akin to the irritation he feels surrounded by unintelligent morons at the Mirabel Hotel. Those feelings all burn in his gut, devouring his patience, simmering below the skin until he extinguishes them. This is a solid weight in his chest, immovable and unforgiving. Guilt…?

In truth, Mordecai doesn't know what he should feel at that moment. He's gotten so good at suppressing natural emotional reactions, those that make it to the surface are often expressed in the same manner; frustration or anger, either at himself or the cause of distress, and an unending need to control it before it gets out of hand.

Mordecai scoffs silently at the idea. Why would he feel guilt, when he expressly told Viktor to retire? When he re enforced his message with a swift shot to the man's good knee? I practically autographed his retirement slip, he thinks as he stares down at his former friend, but his glare doesn't return. He can't seem to form it. If the obstinate bobcat had simply compiled, he wouldn't be in critical condition.

The reasoning is indisputable, yet the leaden feeling in the sharpshooter's gut remains unchanged, suffocating and nauseating all at once. Mordecai removes his pince-nez and rubs his eyes roughly, the beginnings of a migraine starting.

His composure is slipping, the monochromatic tom can feel it. Taking a deep breath, Mordecai straightens his posture and holds it for a few heartbeats, then releases the breath slowly. Focusing on the air leaving his lungs cements the man back in the moment. A sharp mind swiftly rifles through possible next steps, and by the time his glasses are back on his muzzle, Mordecai has a plan.

Not wanting to get his clothes covered in unidentifiable filth, the tom shrugs off his suit jacket and carefully lays it over the back of the cleanest looking dining chair. Detaching his cufflinks, Mordecai stows them away in a breast pocket for safety - the last thing he wants is to leave behind evidence of his visit - before donning his favored black leather gloves and getting down to the real dirty work.

He's got a lot to do before sunrise.

oOoOo

He doesn't remember finishing his task. It had been early in the morning - the sun had already kissed the horizon - when the tuxedo started his last piece of clean-up. He recalls being up to his elbows in soapy water, leather gloves replaced with rubber to keep the residues from touching his skin. One of them springs a leak, but he perseveres until…

A heavy thunk on the head startles Mordecai out of slumber. He first gasps, then retches as he inhales a thick cloud of dust. Another thunk and incoherent yelling in his left ear. More filth and cobwebs clogging his airways. He scrambles to get out of 'bed' but instead falls over the arm of the wingback chair he'd evidentially passed out in.

A hearty smack to his backside and Mordecai yelps, swiftly righting himself, an embarrassing tangle of limbs and fine fabrics crinkled from a night's sleep. He desperately tries to brush the dirt from his head, frantic hands messing up his usually coiffured hair and whiskers. He doesn't even notice the fourth swing until it sweeps within an inch of his side, to which Mordecai jumps another pace away from his assailant and reaches for his holstered firearms.

His shoulder holsters are gone, as is his jacket.

It's enough of a surprise to bring Mordecai securely into the present; neither his holsters or jacket come off unless their owner feels secure. Green eyes squint and attempt to focus without spectacles, which were also abandoned somewhere around the wingback last night, to find his attacker is a fuzzy orange lump flailing some form of bristled stick between them, loudly cursing in Slovakian.

The night prior comes back in an instant. Mordecai snuck in to check on his friend, only to find the place in disarray, and couldn't bring himself to leave without cleaning up first. He'd removed his jacket and holsters for the added flexibility, rolled up his shirt sleeves and got to work tidying the room; moving the disgusting old bandages to the tub to soak in bleach solution, picking up the magazines, then washing the dishes before leaving them to dry in the rack.

Underestimating the severity of slobbery, he didn't complete the last task until almost five in the morning, whereupon he dried his hands before taking a seat in the wingback he used to favour for a short rest. Intending to be gone before the angry Slovak awoke, he'd felt a little calmer about his former friend's unfortunate situation after helping, so much his eyes had begun to droop. He'll assume his Mrs Bapka or Miss Pepper assisted. I need only vacate before he wakes.

Except the familiar environment, coupled with an old friend's presence after months of working with the imbeciles Mr Sweet employed, has killed his exhausted body to slumber.

Now, I'm coated in…. He can't help it; Mordecai shudders just imagining what was on that broom. His tail puffing up in disgust as he turns on Viktor, his usually plain facade is splintered by the angriest expression he can muster while chronically squinting. "You oaf! You've ruined this suit with your… your perennial mote collection!"

His vision is too fuzzy to read the bobcat's expression, but Viktor launching the broom at his head communicates the sentiment effectively. Mordecai raises his hands to defend himself and grunts when the wooden handle rebounds off his bare palms. Damnit! I need my glasses. Why did I take them off?

"You ruin good knee!" Viktor roars back and grabbing the nearest item off of his side table, throws it at the other. The reminder of his past transgressions simmers Mordecai's anger a little even if his expression remains fierce, but gives him enough pause to allow the magazine to slap him square in the face before flopping to the floor. "Vork fine with one knee, vork vell. Now, can't even climb stairs!"

"In my defense, you were supposed to retire," Mordecai retorts swiftly, then flinches back as Viktor attempts to pick up the end table in his rage. Thankfully, with his lungs full of holes, the Slovak can't lift it off the ground and it only rocks precariously before settling again. Mordecao decides to try reasoning with the hulk of a cat again as he fumbles around for his pince-nez. "I told you I was leaving, Viktor. I warned you it would be distasteful. If you'd just listened-"

"I listen, and tell you no," the old Slavok asserts through grit teeth. "Then, you take guns! Give to farmers! I have swiss cheese lung thanks to you! No climb stairs naow, thanks to you! No help in bar, thanks to-"

"Victor?" A familiar young voice asks through the door. Both men freeze, their gazes snapping to the worn wood as the knob jiggles in its housing. When the door doesn't budge, Miss Pepper knocks a couple times, fast and worried. "Are you okay? Is there someone with you?"

Large green eyes snap to Viktor the same moment his gaze returns to the tuxedo tom. They stare a long moment before another attempt at the lock has Mordecai in motion, blindly snatching up what he can locate - his holders in the coffee table, jacket over a chair - while acutely aware of the single eye burning a hole in his back. He still can't find his specs when another familiar voice pipes up. "Miss Bapka has a spare under her flower pot. I'll go grab it."

"Okay. I'll stay here," Ivy responds softly, and there's a short pause while Mordecai is pulling on his boots before another knock and a worried voice. "Rocky's getting the key, Viktor."

With it being light out and Viktor's apartment up on the third floor, jumping from a window isn't an option. He'll be seen or worse, break his leg and get caught. Neither Lackadaisy or Mirabel staff can know he was here; both would question his loyalties, based on the fact he cleaned instead of killing the bobcat after breaking in. I'll have achieved nothing, besides alienating former cohorts. They can't find me. I need to hide.

Still without his pince-nez, Mordecai is forced to navigate the small apartment from memory, passing close enough to Viktor for the old cat to grab his collar. There aren't many places to hide - the bedroom is too close to the front door, the bathroom could potentially be used by a visitor - but the tuxedo cat knows of one. Quiet as a mouse, he slides open one of the pantry doors and slips inside, squeezing his slim frame between said door and the shelves.

Almost as soon as he pulls the door closed, the front door springs open. Through the crack, Mordecai watches Rocky launch himself inside with a yell, shoe raised over his head and eyes darting about the room wildly. A moment passes and he straightens, looking confused as Ivy walks past him. "Does it…" He pauses, scratching his head with the sole of his shoe as he finds the words. "Look cleaner in here?"

"Maybe Mrs Bapka cleaned some," Ivy says as she steps carefully over the discarded broom, raising a brow at it as she balances a small cardboard box in her hand. From his current angle, Mordecai can't see the bobcat's face, but the young flapper feline looks quizzical. "I could've sworn I heard you talking to someone, though."

"Maybe he was talking to himself," Rocky suggests, his smile unwavering as he hops about trying to put his shoe back on. "I do it all the time! I have the best answers to questions I didn't even know I asked!"

Ivy ignores him and presents Viktor with the box, placing it carefully on his chest. "Rocky's taking me to university, but we stopped at the Little Daisy and got you your favourite pastry. Thought it might cheer you up a bit, you know… being stuck in here all day." She smiles a bittersweet smile, but when Viktor simply huffs sadly it fades. "I'm sorry, I wish we could make things better… if there's anything we can-"

"Hey, whose are these?" Rocky asks as he scoops a pair of glasses off the floor, straightening to scrutinize the missing pince-nez closely. Mordecai feels his chest tighten as Ivy leans in close too, frowning at the little circular spectacles. "Oh! I recognise those" she says suddenly. "Aren't they-"

"Old looking glass," Victor interrupts with an obvious lie before either of the two young visitors can say anything more. They both glance up to the orange bobcat, who holds out a meaty hand for the delicate eyeglasses. "Had made for reading. Vas joke with old partner. Ve match for vhile."

Rocky and Ivy share a glance, but the gray tabby hands the glasses over without fuss. "I didn't know you need glasses to read," Rocky states as Viktor neatly places them on the magazines now carefully categorized on the side table. "Oh, I remember!" Rocky explains with a snap of fine fingers. "They're like Ol' Serious Face's glasses! You know, the guy that-" he mimes a finger gun directly at Viktor's knee, and Mordecai can smell the sour expression it garners from Viktor. Rocky doesn't seem to notice it as he 'shoots' the knee with a soft click of his tongue.

Ivy swiftly pulls Rocky out of reach just as a huge hand goes for his neck. "Well, this was nice," she says brightly as she hurries Rocky towards the door, pushing him harder when he aims another finger gun. "But I really should get to school now. I wouldn't want to be late. Enjoy your cake!"

With that, the hurricane of youth exits the apartment and all falls silent again. Mordecai stays in his hiding place a little longer, to be sure they won't be disturbed again, before he finally slips back out of the pantry. From the kitchen, he can see Viktor staring down at his cake blankly, devoid of any discernible emotion, holding the little box with both hands.

It's a stark contrast to his earlier anger, and that heavy mass settles firmly back in Mordecai's chest seeing it. Like his mother's grief, this isn't something he can gloss over or fix, but it is his fault. That somehow makes everything worse.

He picks his way back through the living room, forced to run his fingers along surfaces and furniture as he nears them to avoid falling over, until he's so close to Viktor the cat is once again just colourful blobs. From here, Mordecai fumbles on the side table for his glasses and relieved when his hand closes on them, swiftly brings them to his muzzle.

Close up, Viktor looks like a caricature of depression, with pale lips drawn down so far it deforms his face and broad shoulders slumped towards his lap, apparently uncaring that the monochromatic tom is close enough to punch. The cake ibeads condensation from being recently removed from a cool display cabinet, the powdered sugar on top flavouring the air sickly sweet, as if openly mocking the bobcat's emotions by counteracting them effortlessly.

Mordecai sighs heavily, and not just because there's a large fingerprint smudging the corner of his glasses. "I'm sorry," he says, perhaps as earnestly as he ever has before, hand lingering above Viktor's shoulder but never making contact. It doesn't feel like a good time. There's so many feelings in his head, so many unnamed emotions and sentiments he can't make sense of, things he should say that Mordecai simply doesn't know how to express. "I should… I'll go."

He strides for the door, pausing for one last look at his only - now former - friend before letting himself out. Mordecai is fairly sure he hears the cake hit the door not a moment afterwards.

[pseudowho]

 in 🐟

Hi HAITCH, so...since you're a midwife...one who has been in the practice for quite a while. I wanted to ask about pubic hair during birth.

I overheard one of my aunts downtalking my cousin (when she gave birth...early delivery than expected) about pubic hair (I rolled my eyes so hard, like girl wake up, stop gaf about people. Someone just popped out her first baby). I've read its better to not remove pubic hair during birthing as it protects wounds from infections and unwanted bacteria... however I'd greatly appreciate your insight on this.

Thank you!!

 🐟 out

Hello, helloooo!

Women are often the worst perpetrators of generationally inflicted misinformation about birth.

So it used to be routine in this country (many years ago), and still is routine in other countries, to shave a woman on her attendance to give birth. This was based on the belief that female pubic hair harboured dangerous bacteria, and would cause an increased chance of infections in wounds caused by birth, and within the genital tract itself.

This is now found to be incorrect, and in fact, it's the opposite; generally it's found that shaving within the week before birth slightly increases the chance of infections to skin surface wounds (perineal and Caesarean wounds) as it damages the skin surface integrity, creating more entry points for bacteria to enter the body.

There is however, no evidence that the presence of pubic hair protects women from infections.

Women who are very hairy on attendance for caesarean, if the hair obscures the lower segment of the abdomen, receive a little electric clipper trim, which doesn't abrade the skin surface and simply cuts the hairs short enough for the surgeon to work.

Overall, however, we give no frank advice about shaving or not shaving before birth in the UK, because in the presence of good practice and hygiene in the antenatal, intrapartum and postnatal periods, the impact that shaving would have on infection risk is negligible at best.

I love hearing non-professionals chat shit about things they don't know or understand. I don't dare to tell a hairdresser, or a lawyer, or a taxi driver what to do, do I?

Stay in your lane, auntie. Just because something came out of your pussy or belly, doesn't make you an expert.

So long, and thanks for all the 🐟

Love,

-- Haitch xxx

[samkat10423]

It will soon be Easter and this needs to be said. My cousin posted this over on Facebook, and I promised to share it here. Please do NOT use living creatures as disposable "toys." They have feelings and deserve to be treated with kindness and respect.

I euthanized your duck today….You know....the duckling you got for Easter to celebrate spring? Well, he barely made it into summer. You thought he was cute when he was little, but before he was fully an adult, you took him to a pond somewhere and dumped him where he had no one to make sure he got proper food, no one to put him up at night so he could be safe from predators, no one to keep him from harm.

So, 'harm' found him. There are many bad things that happen to domestic ducks that are dumped in ponds. I could list all those things and even show photos of the various conditions that I have seen as kind people rescued ducks like yours and brought them to me for care. But the good people who who properly care for all of their pets don't need to have those awful images in their heads. Having seen them all and having worked hard to save them, I cannot EVER get those images out of my head.

YOUR duck had many problems, including being bone thin. But he got wounds on his feet and the bacteria entered his young body and found a place to settle in the joint of his leg. The bacteria grew into a huge knot of infection that painfully ate away at the ligaments and tendons and then attacked both ends of the bones at that joint. The bone infection, which could have easily been corrected if you'd been there to watch over him, instead, grew unchecked and disintegrated the bones and began working out in both directions to the point that the leg swung freely at the joint. To walk, your duck stepped painfully on that leg anyway and the bottom part of the leg bent at odd angles from the site of the infection, looking as if it were broken.

Many people walked by your duck. Some noticed and kept on walking.

I took your duck to the vet where we did a series of xrays at my expense to see if there was any hope to save this duck. Your duck wasn't even old enough to quack properly. When he was afraid, he still peeped. It broke my heart to hear him peep. However, there was no reasonable way to save that leg. He was not even at his full adult weight and ducks can't hop around on just one leg. So I was not going to condemn him to further suffering and a lifetime of issues by just removing his bad leg, especially when there are not enough homes for the healthy ducks that people didn't want. So we set him free from his body that could not properly support him.

I held his head while the drugs made him sleepy. I kissed his head and apologized for all the bad things that had happened to him in his very short life. I was there when he took his last breath, when the pain and suffering finally left him forever. I was there......you were not. It should have been you seeing the effects of dumping him and walking away. His loss broke my heart. Did you even notice his loss in your life?

I promised as he slowly slipped away that I would not let his death go unnoticed.

I promised to share his story and perhaps change people’s minds of buying ducklings, chicks, and bunnies as temporary living toys for children. If someone wants a duck or chicken or rabbit and plans to keep it for its ENTIRE LIFE, then go ahead and get a duckling, chick, or bunny. And better yes, if you DO want an adult version of any of those, then adopt from a rescue. And DO expect to be thoroughly questioned as to your plans for caring for your new pet. But if you don't want an adult of those species, then don't buy the baby version.....because the little known fact is that baby things grow up into adult things.

Please join with me to share this message to anyone that you know who still gives temporary living toys to their children (or themselves)......NO EASTER PETS. They are not toys. They are living creatures. And dumping unwanted domestic ducks into public ponds where there will be no one to care for them is illegal in most areas and even so, it's morally wrong. I've tried for YEARS to get this message out in a nice, polite way. As I cried my pool of tears over this duck, I've come to realize that people aren't listening. So I'm going to be sharing more of these stories and their faces in the hopes that these messages start reaching the people who are making this whole 'Easter' industry of suffering continue. If people don't buy, then stores won't sell, then breeders won't breed, and the suffering stops. Please help me get the word out.

[realcleverscience]

New type of vaccine just dropped. pretty dope.

A typical vaccine teaches the human immune system to recognize a virus or bacteria as an enemy that should be attacked. The new “inverse vaccine” does just the opposite: it removes the immune system’s memory of one molecule. While such immune memory erasure would be unwanted for infectious diseases, it can stop autoimmune reactions like those seen in multiple sclerosis, type I diabetes, or rheumatoid arthritis, in which the immune system attacks a person’s healthy tissues... Today, autoimmune diseases are generally treated with drugs that broadly shut down the immune system. “These treatments can be very effective, but you’re also blocking the immune responses necessary to fight off infections and so there are a lot of side effects,” said Hubbell. “If we could treat patients with an inverse vaccine instead, it could be much more specific and lead to fewer side effects.”