#the line is tissue sample

[mandg-readings]

Can you tell I'm rusty...

[thoughtportal]

In eastern Mexico’s underground caverns and streams, a blind fish undergoes a peculiar adolescence: as it approaches maturity, taste buds begin to sprout under its chin and on top of its head, creeping toward its back.

“It’s a pretty wild amplification of the sensory system of taste,” says Josh Gross, an evolutionary geneticist at the University of Cincinnati and a co-author of a recent study on the cave fish in Nature Communications Biology. Gross and his team discovered that the new buds blossom around the time when the fish transition from eating larval crustaceans to gobbling up their adulthood staple: bat guano. Taste buds outside their mouths might be helping the fish detect bat droppings in the utterly dark, “food-starved” caves, Gross says.

Wandering taste buds aren’t unheard of elsewhere, especially in other fish. Some damselfish cultivate taste buds on their fins, and channel catfish have them across their midsections. And as alien as it may seem, many cells throughout the human body can taste, too. They’re just not sharing the flavors with your brain like taste buds do.

Lora Bankova is a Harvard Medical School respiratory biologist who studies tuft cells, a cell type sprinkled within human mucous tissues like those lining your nostrils, throat and gut. These “rapid responder” cells trigger the immune system if they detect an outside threat, and many of them rely on built-in taste receptors (the same kinds found on taste-bud cells) to do so. Bankova notes that many potentially harmful bacteria communicate via signaling chemicals called lactones—which also happen to activate taste receptors attuned to bitter flavors, prompting tuft cells’ immune response. And it turns out that even environmental allergies may be a matter of taste: dust mites and several mold species can also set off a tuft cell’s taste receptors, Bankova says.

“Evolutionarily, taste receptors [have moved around] the body to protect us from the air we inhale and all the attacks we’re getting through the orifices,” Bankova says. “They’re in the inner ear, the urethra, everywhere something can get into your body.”

Such “extra” taste receptors aren’t just bouncers at the door—they taste test for our internal systems, too. Receptors for sweet tastes help to tune insulin production in the pancreas and make sure neurons in the brain have access to enough glucose. Sweet, bitter and umami receptors in the gut modulate digestion.

Gross says it’s still a mystery what taste receptors the bat guano activates in the blind cave fish. “There may be some sugar content if it’s a fruit bat, maybe some protein content if it’s a carnivorous bat,” he says. So far only the cave fish has signed up to sample it.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

if a trans man takes testosterone can that like.. make him grow a prostate? I tried checking Google but it keeps on talking about testosterone making cis men’s prostates bigger which is not what I’m looking for

hi anon,

that's not quite a yes or no question. one small study in 2020 found that seven out of eight trans men examined were growing small prostate glands in their vaginal canals! which is neat! but also a finding from a VERY small sample size that needs a LOT more research! so... maybe! there's still a lot to learn about what HRT can do :)

[farmhandler]

lil prompt: wade gives logan and laura (and himself ofc) an at home spa day bc god knows they could both use it. (optional: with vanessa's help)

“I’m not good at this. Why do you keep making me do it?” Logan asked.

Wade sighed explosively, as though Logan's utter lack of interest in painting Wade's nails was a personal failing.

“Laura needs a role model now more than ever. How will you help paint her nails if you can’t even paint mine?”

"I think I could do a better job with my eyes closed," Laura said. Her eyes were, in fact, closed due to the cooling mask Wade had forced on her first thing when they'd come over. "Why do I have this on?"

"Your eyebags could give mine a run for their money," Wade said.

“She’s fucking eighteen years old," Logan said. "She doesn’t need my help painting her nails. And I'm pretty sure our 'eyebags' are genetic.”

“Then what about me, daddy?” Wade said, fluttering his lashes at Logan. Logan kicked his leg under the table.

Wade wasn't to be deterred. He wiggled his fingers imploringly, waiting, and Logan decided, fuck it, and he tried. Genuinely, really tried to paint Wade's nails, and paint them however he liked.

"Painting outside the lines," Wade said as he watched him make no attempt to try and keep the paint on his nail. "Your technique intrigues me, Peanut."

"Shut it. I've got this," Logan muttered. He finished painstakingly drawing a little star on each nail and then scraped away the paint around Wade's nail afterwards with tissues. He figured cleaning up this way was better than trying to be precise on the first try and failing anyway.

Wade kept a straight face the whole time. Then he lifted his nails and bit his lip, hard.

“Oh my god," he breathed. "What are those?"

"They're stars. The blue background is a night sky." Logan pointed the bottle at him. "You fucking do this shit with this tiny ass little brush. I'm not made for precision."

"You're telling me, sweetie. The edges of my nails are awful. They’re so bad. I love them,” Wade gushed. He smiled at Logan with genuine glee, and Logan felt warm all over in a way he fucking hated, because he'd been feeling it a lot more lately.

Then Wade’s phone rang.

“Can you answer that for me, sweetums? I’m currently very wet and trying to harden up.”

Shaking his head, Logan leaned forward and answered the call without looking. It was Vanessa, letting them know she'd found the LED lamp for the nails Logan had bought not knowing they needed a stupid lamp to work. Why they asked him to do this shit when he obviously didn't know what he was doing, he'd never know.

When she showed up, she also had a bunch of other shit Logan didn't want to have anywhere near him either.

"Sorry I took so long. I had to go to a couple places to find the lamp." Vanessa swept past Logan after tugging him down for a kiss on the cheek by the door and set her bag on the table. "You started without me?"

"Just some nail painting. And giving Laura's eyes a rest."

"My eyes are freezing," she said from the couch.

Logan sat down next to her, because it felt safer to do so. Laura hated this stuff as much as he did. Or at least he assumed she did. He'd never asked.

"You have any idea what all this is?" he asked her, once she lifted the mask from her face. Laura hummed.

"Some of it." She handed him one of the samples Vanessa had dumped from wherever she'd gone. "You should use this."

"Nighttime eye cream?" he read aloud. "And this is supposed to do what?"

Wade was sitting waiting for his nails to dry, so Vanessa walked over and ripped open the packet. She then dabbed the cream under his eyes and rubbed it in. When Logan tried to yank his head away, she grabbed his chin and made him sit tight.

"Come on, put up with it for five seconds," she said. "Trust me, you'll like this one."

The scent wasn't overpowering, which was a plus. Still strong, but that was most things. The cream had a surprisingly soft texture. Once she was done, he wasn't going to admit it felt kind of nice, but he didn't need to. Wade grinned at Logan like a loon.

"You don't have to look so fucking smug about all this," Logan muttered.

"You lost the bet, so I don't even need to pretend," Wade said cheerfully.

"Because you cheated," Logan hissed.

"And I didn't get caught!" Wade clapped his hands together, apparently deeming them dry. "All right, now let's get serious."

About half an hour later, Logan really was regretting letting Wade get away with cheating.

He had an itchy mask on his face, his hair was pinned back by a headband with kitten ears on it, and Wade could not look any more pleased if he tried. Logan had assumed the nails that needed a lamp to cure them were for Laura or Vanessa, but everybody insisted on putting them on him. So he sat there while these sparkly pink nails dried, and the facemask did whatever it was doing on his face.

Logan hated it, but Laura...Laura was laughing. She's been laughing. She thought Wade was funny, but Vanessa and Wade together really set her off. Logan had never seen her laugh so much.

Logan exhaled. Maybe regret wasn't the right word. And maybe he didn't hate it.

"You ready for your mud bath?" Wade asked, sitting down next to him.

"You'd better be joking, bub."

"Only slightly. I do have a hot tub that's been bath bombed with your name on it. And all the supplies I need to work on your feet while you do. Don't worry: I have fully and mentally prepared myself to pick the fungus out of your toes."

"Ew," Laura said to their right. Vanessa was in the middle of pulling her hair back to join the face mask crowd.

I'm not doing that, Logan almost said, and then looked at Laura, and Vanessa.

If he let the night end now, sure, he'd be more comfortable, but...well, he didn't hate all this.

The candles were nice. Wade had picked really subtle scents, and nothing too fruity or overly clean. They reminded Logan of his cabin, the one he hadn't visited in years. After a rain, when the forest surrounding it smelled heavy and sweet in a way he couldn't explain to anyone who didn't get it.

"Yeah, all right," he said. Wade looked surprised.

"You okay?" Wade asked, inexplicably. He scooted closer to Logan and touched his knee. "I really won't force you into it, if it's that bad."

"It's not." Logan touched his hand. Their nails looked completely mismatched, especially his. On his gnarled hands, the pink stood out badly. He lifted them into the light for inspection. "I could use a bath. You coming in with me?"

It was both a tease and a genuine question. Wade laughed, startled, still grinning that shit-eating grin.

"And fondle your toes directly? Absolutely."

Logan thought back to that kiss on his cheek. So he kissed Wade's cheek, and when Wade made a soft sound of surprise, Logan shifted his mouth a few inches over to Wade's.

Now Wade looked stunned. Someone cleared their throat behind them.

"No fondling," Logan said, rising to a stand.

"A little fondling," Wade said, finally recovering enough to speak. He leapt up and followed Logan.

[wri0thesley]

cw: dottore, yandere, human experimentation

dottore does not have favourites. a test subject is a test subject, and he has no shortage of those; a never ending conveyer belt of human bodies that come through his laboratory, that he uses until he can no longer squeeze any useful information from them. it is easier not to even regard them as people; merely flesh, merely fodder.

but when one of his clones had brought you in . . .

with those wide frightened eyes, with the shape of your body not quite hidden beneath the thin medical gown, with words spilling out of your mouth cleverer than he could remember mere fodder ever being . . . well, to use you on just any experiment would have been a terrible waste. not when you were so nice to look at and, too afraid of silence to let it linger on, kept asking him questions as if you cared.

so he takes your blood samples and your tissue samples, your vitals - gives you medicines and injections until every test he runs has perfect results. jerks off, even, imagining what you’d be like if he used you in his ruin machine experiments, if he decided to use you in clinical trials for his cures, thinking about you hooked up to machinery and whimpering and tossing and turning and begging. when you ask him a question with your voice all a-tremble, he takes great relish in explaining everything to you in detail.

in letting his fingers run over your flesh as he wonders aloud about all of the things he could do to you. in letting his fingers touch you bare when he ought to be wearing gloves; in using both a scalpel on you to open a wound, or sometimes even his teeth. in keeping you neatly sequestered in your own little room, with an operating table only for you, with leather straps lined with silk to keep you restrained so you don’t hurt yourself.

most of those under the doctor’s care expire in twenty four hours. that you have been his for months is merely testament to how . . . fascinating you are. no, no. a test subject is a test subject, and dottore tells himself - as he presses a cold kiss to your sweat-slicked forehead, when you have passed into exhaustion and drug-fuelled oblivion, when his fingers run over your bare skin and he imagines carving his name into you, leaving a part of himself inside you lodged in your ribcage or your spine, drilling into your pretty head until all you can think about is him - he does not have favourites.

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 51, vol. 16, 23 décembre 1894, Paris. Patron prime offert gratuitement à toutes les lectrices. Robe de maison. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

(10.) Pour répondre au désir exprimé par nos lectrices, nous leur offrons aujourd’hui, à titre de prime gratuite, le patron d’une élégante et simple robe de maison pour taille ordinaire. Ce modèle se fait en lainage souple et chaud de nuances claires avec ornement velours ou étoffe pareille. Le devant droit fil au milieu est froncé à l’encolure, ajusté sous le bras par une pince. Le format du papier ne nous permettant pas de le donner de longueur voulue, nous prévenons nos lectrices qu’elles auront à 1 allonger de 0m,60 au milieu du devant, 0m,64 sur le côté et 0m,80 à la largeur du bas. Cette longueur est naturellement facultative, car on l’appropriera à la taille de la personne à laquelle il est destiné (voir tracé no. 7). Le côté droit fit à la taille a besoin également d’être allongé de même que le dos (voir indications portées sur le tracé). La manche doublure est ajustée avec bouffant rapporté, froncée du bas et montée à plis à l’entournure terminée par un volant. Col en biais, un volant garnit le bas de la robe, et une berthe plissée recouvre les épaules, une ceinture passe sous les fronces de devant par une ouverture faite au point de boutonnière. On peut aussi mettre la ceinture par-dessus. Nous tenons à la disposition de nos lectrices, des échantillons de tissu avantageux au prix de 1 fr. 45 le mètre en 1 mètre de large. Pour faire cette robe il faut 6 mètres d’étoffe et 1 mètre de velours. Ajouter 0 fr. 60 pour recevoir le coupon franco.

—

(10.) In response to the desire expressed by our readers, we are offering them today, as a free bonus, the pattern for an elegant and simple house dress for ordinary size. This model is made in soft and warm wool in light shades with velvet or similar fabric ornament. The front straight grain in the middle is gathered at the neckline, adjusted under the arm by a clip. The size of the paper does not allow us to give it the desired length, we warn our readers that they will have to lengthen it by 0.60 meters in the middle of the front, 0.64 meters on the side and 0.80 meters at the width of the bottom. This length is naturally optional, because it will be adapted to the size of the person for whom it is intended (see pattern no. 7). The straight side fitted at the waist also needs to be lengthened as well as the back (see indications given on the pattern). The lining sleeve is fitted with a puff, gathered at the bottom and assembled with pleats at the armhole finished with a flounce. Slanted collar, a flounce trims the bottom of the dress, and a pleated berthe covers the shoulders, a belt passes under the gathers at the front through an opening made with a buttonhole stitch. The belt can also be put on top. We have at the disposal of our readers, advantageous fabric samples at the price of 1.45 francs per meter in 1 meter width. To make this dress you need 6 meters of fabric and 1 meter of velvet. Add 0.60 francs to receive the free coupon.

[messysneeze]

remixed @sneezeshame's cold simulator on ao3 into a generator with some tweaks to be more my type of thing.

sample output:

A moderate cold that lasts for 4 days. Rapid overnight onset, with the first symptom of exhaustion. Congestion: 44%. The worst symptoms (other than sneezing), in descending order, are: explosive headache; obvious aches; drippy headache; and sluggish chills. Nose: bright red. At its highest, their temperature is 101. Their voice is hoarse, and they are mouthbreathing a little, trying to hide it. Sleep: sleeping with constantly dripping nose, sleep quality medium. Line: "I don't feel too good". Passed to the next person by used tissues.

[lyssophobiaa]

Quick sketch for Piers’ bionic arm.

Design Features

•Aesthetics: Streamlined, ergonomic design with a minimalist look, often featuring a matte or metallic finish.

•Materials: Lightweight composites like carbon fiber and titanium, providing durability without sacrificing mobility.

•Color Options: Customizable colors or finishes, including options for skin-like textures or futuristic metallics.

Technology

•Actuation: Advanced motors and actuators that enable precise, fluid movement mimicking natural limb motion.

•Sensors: Integrated sensors (e.g., myoelectric sensors) to detect muscle signals for intuitive control and movement.

•Feedback Systems: Haptic feedback mechanisms to provide users with sensory information about grip strength and object texture.

Safety and Durability

•Water and Dust Resistance: High IP ratings to protect against environmental factors.

•Emergency Features: Manual override systems or fail-safes in case of technology malfunction.

Advanced Technological Interface

•Integrated Biosensors: Built-in biosensors that can analyze blood or interstitial fluid samples to measure viral load in real time.

•Data Analytics: Utilizes algorithms to process biosensor data, providing insights on viral dynamics and trends.

•Alerts and Notifications: Real-time alerts sent to the user or healthcare provider when viral load exceeds predetermined thresholds.

•Communication System: Integrated with a communicator on the wrist, the arm serves as a reliable device for maintaining contact with his team. This system includes encrypted channels for secure communication during high-stakes operations.

•Objective Management Display: The arm features a holographic display that provides a detailed version of the communicator’s data, allowing Piers to view mission objectives and tactical data in real-time. This feature minimizes the need for external devices and keeps critical information accessible.

Augmented Reality (AR) Compatibility

•Enhanced Visualization: The arm’s display projects augmented reality overlays, allowing Piers to see additional information, such as enemy positions, weapon stats, or tactical directions, directly in his line of sight.

•Environmental Scanning: The arm can analyze the surroundings for potential threats, detect biological or chemical hazards, and provide alerts for safer navigation through hostile environments.

Electricity Conduction and Control

•Energy Conduit Design: The bionic arm acts as a conductor for the constant electrical energy generated by Piers’ mutation. It includes specialized channels and circuits designed to manage this energy flow, allowing Piers to use his mutation’s electrical pulse without it spiraling out of control.

•Dielectric Structures: The arm’s design incorporates materials that mimic the dielectric properties of his mutated tissue, particularly in the finger joints and bones. These dielectric components help regulate and contain the high voltage his body produces, diffusing excess energy safely throughout the arm.

•Controlled Release Mechanism: To avoid overload, the arm features a controlled release system that allows Piers to release pulses of energy strategically, whether in combat or to alleviate the internal buildup. This system prevents the arm from overheating or sustaining damage from prolonged electrical activity.

Containment and Compression of the Mutation

•Compression Framework: The prosthetic was specially designed by UMBRELLA engineers to act as a containment “net” around his mutation. It includes a flexible, reinforced framework that compresses the mutated tissue, keeping it in check and preventing further growth or erratic shifts in form.

•Adaptive Pressure System: As the mutation strains against the arm, sensors detect any changes in size or energy output, triggering adaptive responses. The arm tightens or loosens as necessary to hold the mutation back, functioning almost like a high-tech brace that adjusts in real-time to maintain Piers’ arm in a stable form.

•Automatic Safety Lock: In the event of a significant spike in mutation activity or electrical output, the arm engages an emergency lock to keep the mutation from expanding. This feature is a safeguard against sudden bursts of energy that could cause the arm to revert to its mutated state.

Dependency and Risks of Removal

•Rapid Mutation Onset: Without the prosthetic in place, Piers’ arm begins to mutate almost immediately, returning to its original, unstable form. The electrical pulse that his body generates becomes unrestrained, emitting a continuous, breath-like rhythm that is both painful and dangerous, with energy leaking through protruding bones and exposed tissue.

•Uncontrollable Pulse: When uncontained, the electrical pulse from his mutation surges in intensity, lacking any natural “closure” or stopping point. This pulse causes rapid fluctuations in his vital signs and risks systemic overload, leading to loss of control over his mutation and putting him at severe physical risk.

Miscellaneous Details

•The arm has a unique serial code engraved on an inner plate, serving as an identifier for UMBRELLA technicians. This code also links to Piers’ personal health records, mutation data, and arm specifications for quick access during maintenance or in emergencies.

•Due to the intense electrical pulses generated by his mutation, the arm is equipped with an internal cooling system. Micro-fans and heat-dissipating channels prevent overheating during extended use, keeping the arm at a safe, comfortable temperature. If the arm overheats, an internal alarm alerts Piers to prevent any potential damage.

•The outer layer is treated with a UV-resistant coating to protect it from environmental damage and exposure. This ensures that prolonged exposure to sunlight or harsh conditions doesn’t wear down the arm’s exterior, making it more durable in diverse climates and situations.

•Designed for various operational environments, the arm is fully waterproof and corrosion-resistant. It functions normally underwater, which is crucial for aquatic missions or when exposed to rain, mud, or corrosive substances.

•The holographic display can be customized to show additional details, such as weather, GPS navigation, or tactical maps. Piers can also set personal preferences, like color schemes or alert tones, for a more intuitive user experience. This flexibility lets him prioritize the information he finds most critical during missions.

•The communicator has an onboard language translator, enabling Piers to communicate with individuals across different languages. The arm’s display shows translated text, and a subtle earpiece can even relay audio translations, making it easier for him to gather intel and negotiate in multilingual environments.

[synthapostate]

@lastdaysofwar, Day 21: Downtime/Jacket (Hermann Gottlieb/Newton Geiszler)

It isn’t unusual for various systems in the Shatterdome to break down. Their staff includes some of the most skilled technicians in the world, but their focus is necessarily on the jaegers and on LOCCENT systems, so when the air conditioning is on the fritz, it simply isn’t a priority.

If it had simply stopped blowing cool air, Hermann supposes, it wouldn’t be so bad. The lab would become uncomfortably warm, he and Newton would bring out their desk fans, Newton would whinge on a bit about the sweat interfering with his hair gel, but they would survive. But, as it happens, a failure somewhere down the line means the damn thing is going full blast, shooting icy cold air from the vent directly above Hermann’s chalkboards. There’s nowhere he can work on his equations that’s out of the line of fire, and he can’t be certain in this lighting but he thinks his fingers might be turning blue, so he’s been forced to retreat to the marginally less frigid territory of his desk, where he’s reduced to working with pencil and paper.

Even Newton, who is never cold, has wrapped himself in a blanket on the couch to watch some insipid action movie on his tablet. Never before has Hermann regretted a lack of samples for the biologist to study, but today he feels a stab of something uncomfortably like jealousy at the sight of his colleague, at loose ends, snuggled into what he childishly refers to as a “cozy burrito.”

“You should come watch this with me,” Newton calls, his eyes never leaving the screen. Hermann stiffens.

“I’m working. You may be familiar with the concept.”

“Working on what, man? When’s the last time you even got any new data?”

“I’m a mathematician, Newton. Not all of us have to wait around for fresh tissue samples before we can get anything done.”

“Whatever, nerd.” He finally looks over at Hermann, teasing smirk dropping into a frown. “You’re freezing,” he accuses.

“I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” Newton pauses his movie. “I can’t even hear the explosions over your stupid chattering teeth. Why don’t you go get that big-ass parka and an ugly sweater?”

“It’s July.” A lightweight blazer is more than adequate for the weather outside.

“Buddy, it’s not July in here. I’m making coffee. You want some?”

“It’s the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Newton wanders over to the coffee machine, and Hermann tries to get back to work. He has no time for Dr. Geiszler’s nonsense.

He’s having some difficulty focusing, but that’s no one’s business but his own. It’s simply a matter of willpower. Tuning out external distractions. He’s honed that ability over the years sharing his workspace with Newton, but today he can’t seem to make himself unaware of his colleague creeping up behind him.

Creeping with a distinct purpose, Hermann suspects, as he listens to the not at all quiet thump of Newton’s boot leather across the metal floor. The man thinks he’s so subtle. Hermann braces himself for whatever prank is about to befall him.

But whatever he’s expecting, it’s not for Newton’s leather jacket to suddenly drop down over his head.

“Newton?”

“You’re. Cold!” Newton insists, and runs away back to the coffee maker.

Hermann pulls the jacket away from his face and turns to glare at his colleague.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Making coffee,” Newton says.

“Why…” Hermann lets the jacket fall from his head to his shoulders, then reluctantly pulls it forward so that, while not exactly wearing it, he’s wrapped up inside. It is warmer this way. How embarrassing.

“You could always go up to the roof to warm up,” Newton suggests as he pours two cups of coffee.

“I told you, I’m working. And I do not need to warm up.”

He expects Newton to call his bluff and demand the jacket back, but the man just shakes his head and holds out one of the coffee cups until Hermann, with a sigh, comes over and takes it.

“Thank you, Newton,” he grumbles. The coffee is too hot to drink yet, but the steam wafting up into his face is quite pleasant.

“S’just a jacket,” Newton says.

“Thank you for the coffee.” They make each other coffee all the time, nothing noteworthy about it. It is not an unusually kind gesture from a man who usually has little to offer beyond relentless mockery. There is nothing confusing about a cup of coffee, and therefore Hermann will not be forced, for the sake of his own emotional stability, to pretend it hasn’t happened.

“How come you won’t put your arms in the sleeves?” Newton asks. “What’s the matter, afraid you’ll look too cool and ruin your reputation?”

Hermann takes a sip of coffee, then tries very hard not to let on that he’s burned his tongue.

“Hey, you know what’s even warmer than a jacket? My blanket,” Newton says, wriggling his shoulders within his cocoon.

“I know it’s warm. It’s my blanket,” Hermann snaps.

“Whatever, you left it lying around. Free real estate.” Newton gestures magnanimously toward the couch. “Come watch a movie with me and I’ll share it with you.”

“Mm…What movie? Who’s in it?”

“You know that guy who played Hellboy?”

“No.” Why on earth would he know who that is?

“Man, you don’t know anything good. There’s vampires,” Newton urges. “You like vampires, right?”

“No.” He does, a bit, but it doesn’t do to appear too eager.

“Come sit on the damn couch, Hermann.” Newton takes a gulp of coffee, and barely restrains himself from spitting it out. “Ah fuuuuuuuck it’s hot!”

“Yes, Newton. Hot coffee is hot.”

“Coffee indeed hot,” Newton says, as if that’s something significant.

“As you say,” Hermann agrees, because he loses nothing by it. Newton grins and punches Hermann’s shoulder, which seems to be a friendly gesture, so Hermann doesn’t retaliate.

“Come on, Hermann. Sit. Be warm. Watch the vampires explode. Enjoy your downtime for once.”

“I don’t have downtime,” Hermann protests.

“You have plenty of downtime. Sit with me. Watch. Exploding vampires, Hermann. Exploding vampires.“

“Very well, Newton, show me the exploding vampires.” It isn’t as if he can think straight under these conditions anyway.

They settle on the couch together with their coffee, the blanket spread over their laps and the tablet propped where they can both see it. Newton doesn’t ask for his jacket back, so Hermann keeps that on as well.

It’s really quite nice, having…downtime, Hermann decides, as he begins to relax and their shoulders come into contact, followed by elbows, and then Newton’s knee swings over to bump against his. Five minutes into the movie, they’re leaning against each other, temperature troubles forgotten, and, yes, it’s very nice indeed.

Dr. Geiszler may well be the first person who has ever encouraged Hermann to do anything other than work. He does not resent the demands being made on him, not with the fate of the world on the line, but it is not the worst thing in the world, being given an excuse to stop. He can’t allow himself to get used to this sort of thing, but just for a little while, he’ll enjoy his moment of peace.

Peace, and exploding vampires.

[amphorographia]

Something interesting about Pathologic that I don't see people talk about very often is the fact that technically none of the protagonists are doctors and, of the three, it's actually Artemy that's the closest to a real physician.

The fact that Daniil is specifically referred to as a "Bachelor" of medicine is something that was always sort of confusing to me but is actually extremely telling when put together with all the other details we get about him.

There's an excellent video essay about Daniil's character by Horror Game Analysis which goes into more detail about this [x], but he points out two things about thanatology that I think are really significant:

It was first conceptualised as a field of study in 1903 by Ilya Mechnikov, a Russian-Ukranian immunologist and microbiologist, who felt that there was not enough known about the phenomenon of death itself; and

Thanatology straddles the line between the humanities and the sciences because it's investigations grapple with the physical, psychological, socio-cultural, philosophical, and spiritual elements of death

With all that in mind and Pathologic's ambiguous time period, Daniil could very much be read as the in-game world's equivalent of Mechnikov. Despite his (sort of) alignment with the philosophically-minded Kains, Daniil is consistently shown to be very much focused on the physical components of death. He came to the town hoping that "[Simon's] tissues will help [him] defeat death." Rubin, Artemy, Victor (and Lara, Yulia, Aspity, Anna, and Clara) all need him to collect and examine blood samples for evidence of the disease. Once the plague begins, his focus in on the creation of a vaccine - a tool for immunisation - instead of a cure.

All of the evidence points to Daniil, at his core, being a microbiologist and researcher. His medical knowledge, while far above average, is highly specialised and doesn't indicate that he has any practical experience as a physician. He's not a doctor, he's a bachelor of medicine using his theoretical and academic expertise to fight an impossible disease in the only way he knows.

Now, Artemy does have some practical knowledge. Isidor taught him about the traditional medicine of the town while he was growing up before sending him to "study modern medicine in the academy" when he was 16. However, in his opening description, all we are told is that Artemy is returning from several years of "travelling from town to town learning theoretical and pratical surgery." In Pathologic Classic, Artemy is canonically 26 years old so if he spent 6-7 years travelling, his formal medical education was likely either short or incomplete. Not to mention that the emphasis on Artemy as a surgeon and menkhu (much like Daniil as a bachelor and thanatologist) implies a very specialised area of expertise which, although closely related to practical medicine, is not the same thing.

This is reinforced in a number of ways. For example, while there are multiple dialogue options which let you dismiss the town's local medical practices, they appear mostly (or only) in conversations with outsiders - responding to Daniil's admission of underestimating the value of "steppe medical knowledge" with "there's nothing medical in their knowledge" and telling Block that he has "an education in the civilized world and ha[s] forgotten two thirds of the specific local practices." Ultimately, Artemy is more consistently aligned with the Kin's more bodily approach to medicine. That distinction between Kin and Town is important, since the traditional medicines Artemy makes are not valued or trusted by townspeople and the kin refuse almost all of the modern medicine (specifically antibiotics) sold in the town.

He also seems to be either unfamiliar or seriously out of practice with the more formal language of science and medicine a university-educated physician should know. At several points, Artemy is shown to be dependent on Daniil's medical knowledge, and various members of the town poke fun at him for asking clarifying questions - Boy: "You graduated from a university and this is your question…?" Rubin: "I thought you were [away] studying." Artemy's story is about trying to fill his father's role and, while he succeeds in becoming a menkhu, his position as the town's doctor is less clearly defined even after the plague. While he begins the game with the most practical experience of the three protagonists, the fact that he's not qualified to be a physician but has to act as one is what drives his story forward.

I won't go into Clara since it's obvious she's not a doctor. If anything, she's more like a personification of a cure for this one specific disease (just like her 'twin' is the plague). She couldn't reset a bone or diognose the flu any more than she could synthesise antibiotics or distinguish between bacteria in a blood sample. Still, she's an interesting comparison point and does serve to remind the player that the protagonists don't really represent different approaches to medicine, but different approaches to healing.

The Bachelor is the modern healer of formal scientific practices who sees healing as the result of understanding the body, disease, and their interactions.

The Haruspex is the traditional healer with the spiritual or ancestral right to protected knowledge and practices who sees healing as a reflection of cultural duty, customs, and community.

The Changeling is the divine healer chosen by a Deity (or Deities) to carry out their will on earth who sees healing as an act of religious faith and demonstration of the existence and power of God(s).

[lifewithchronicpain]

More than two-thirds of women with endometriosis missed school or work due to pain from the condition, in a study of more than 17,000 women between the ages of 15 and 44 in the U.S. That is a key finding of new research published in the Journal of Endometriosis and Uterine Disorders.

Our study also found that Black and Hispanic women were less likely to be diagnosed with endometriosis compared with white women. Interestingly, women who identified as part of the LGBTQ community had a higher likelihood of receiving an endometriosis diagnosis than heterosexual women.

We used data from the National Health and Nutrition Examination Survey, which is administered by the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, for the period 2011 to 2019. The survey data use adjusted weights to account for the racial composition of U.S. society, meaning our sample of 17,619 women represents 51,981,323 women of the U.S. population.

We specifically examined factors related to quality of life, such as poverty, education and functional impairment, as well as race and sexual orientation.

Endometriosis is a chronic, often painful condition that affects approximately 10% of reproductive-age women worldwide. It occurs when tissues that would normally line the inner surface of the uterus instead occur outside the uterus, such as on the ovaries or even in distant organs such as the lungs or brain. These abnormally located lesions respond to hormonal changes during the menstrual cycle, causing pain when stimulated by the hormones that regulate the menstrual cycle. (Read more at link)

Medical sexism at its finest.

[kyuuxmizu]

Gintama World

At Bandai Cross Store, Sunshine City, Ikebukuro ☀️

Lifesize tapestries in front of the event venue

Photospot

where you can sit on the throne (?) with everyone XD

Framed special versions XD

GinTaka babies in front of Yorozuya/Snack Otose and Shinsengumi 🩵💜

Chibi standees!! 🥹

Aviot wireless earphones

(I pre-ordered the Joui4 🤭)

Figure displays 🥰

Interview area

- you can choose either Yorozuya or Shinsengumi interview

- Gin-chan is the interviewer for the Yorozuya, while Toshi is for Shinsengumi

- I took and passed the Yorozuya interview!!

Position: Cook

Mentor: Kagura-chan :3

(I actually went on another day and got a different result!!)

Position: Sugar Hunter

Mentor: Gintoki

Mini Games

(And prizes I've won for each XD)

① Judge of Justaway

- place up to 5 justaways in front of the kuji screen

- I won a PrizeB (clear folder) and 2x PrizeC (stickers)

② 試されるケツイかみだみくじ

- "My ass is tested by god (or tissue??) lottery" (??)

- pull the tissue paper to trigger kuji XD

- I won a Prize A (choose between an acrylic stand/keychain or the ginhiji banknotes) and chose a Gin-chan acrylic XD

Btw the Prize B can badges are super pretty!

③ Sadaharu garapon

- just spin the wheel behind Sadaharu

- the balls (which indicates your prize) come out of Sadaharu's aS$hole :)))

- won a Prize B (mini shikishi) and 2x Prize C (clear card)

Merch display!!!! 😍

The special acrylic stands (troll face ver.) are displayed beside the normal ones XD It's so nice to see them all lined up together 😍

Btw, at the entrance of the Bandai Cross Store, there is also a poster and merch samples too (the dango nui are so cute 🥹 but they're gacha so...)

Loot

[bootstrapparadoxed]

WIP intro: Offspring of (Un)happy Days

Genres: horror, sci-fi, M/M romance, dark academia

Age category: adult

Setting: modern-ish day, Kraków, Poland

Comps: C.E. McGill "Our Hideous Progeny", M. Nemerever "These Violent Delights", D. Tartt "Secret History", H. Ennes "Leech"

Status: 50k into first draft

Themes: academic fraud and ethics, co-dependent relationships, PTSD and cPTSD, fear of death, loneliness, disability/neurodivergency, trans/queer experience in Eastern Europe

Pitch: When two researchers discover a horrifying truth about consciousness and death, their obsessive devotion to each other pushes them to do the unthinkable.

First line: "In our labs, we are small gods, clumsy architects of nature."

blurb and excerpt under the read more. moodboard by @brantleywrites on twitter

Blurb:

Kristian is a PhD student at the end of his rope. His scholarship is running out, his supervisor won’t let him defend, and he’s stuck at a third-rate institute with no support. As a last resort, he applies for an assistant position in a newly funded project – and ends up being the only candidate.

A connection quickly develops between him and his new boss, Leith. The two bond over their shared interests, and shared trauma. Soon, the platonic affection transforms into hungry romance. Somewhere deep down, Kristian knows that their love is more of a sick coping mechanism, but is unable to stop himself.

The tension rises when they accidentally discover a gruesome truth about brains, consciousness, and death. Any other scientist would announce this to the world and step away. Kristian and Leith conduct their experiments in secret, pushing the boundaries of ethics to advance the research. And their unquestioning devotion to each other is about to lead them into much darker places.

Excerpt (from chapter 4):

In order to fully assess the effects of a treatment (drug, pollutant, living condition, induced mutation, etc.), a scientist often needs a sample of tissue that has been washed of all unnecessary materials. A clear cut of brain, liver or intestine is best viewed when it has been infused with a fixative before being placed under a microscope. One way to achieve this is transcardial perfusion. I have performed it many times, preparing tissue samples for pathology comparisons. The protocol runs as follows: the animal is anesthetized but kept alive, after which the body is restrained, chest cavity opened, and a major blood vessel is connected to a supply of fixative. The animal’s still beating heart then does the job for you, carrying it to every point, through every capillary, until finally there is no blood left and the heart ceases to beat.

I had never gotten used to it. I am not a squeamish person and the sight of blood, urine, feces, pus, or any other biological substances does not disturb me. Many biology students deal quite well with formaldehyde preserved specimens but falter at freshly sacrificed animals. One young man had described to me the acute drop in blood pressure he felt the first time a dead rat had been placed in front of him. It wasn’t the sight (fluids, viscera, the undigested contents of the rat’s stomach) but the realization of such recent death. The tiny body still warm, motionless. Perhaps the human mind begins searching at once for the causes, and fears the proximity of whatever had killed another animal (and may be searching for its next victim). Regardless, the ability to deal with this horror is what often sorts students into specialties. Luckily, there are plenty of areas in biology that don’t require you come in contact with living vertebrates at all.

What I always wondered is whether it was possible to do transcardial perfusion on a human. Could one take a person, still living, put them under and replace their blood with some sort of protective substance? Perhaps a solution that would allow them to be frozen, preserved in a box like a packet of fish sticks, waiting for a better time. Keep them on the verge between life and death for decades to then defrost them and pump four liters of blood back into their body. Would the brain survive such a process? Would the mind? Could someone do this to me at the shortest notice and keep me asleep until S. would retire (or die) and someone else would be placed on his cases, so that I could graduate at last?

[darkmaga-returns]

The sneaky bastards at the FDA did this a year ago, right under our noses. In January 2024, the FDA finalized a rule permitting Institutional Review Boards (IRBs) to waive or even alter informed consent requirements for clinical investigations deemed “minimal risk.” TTR guest author Jon Fleetwood, as always, brings us this news in his excellent reporting. Read his entire article here.

IRBs. Informed Consent. What does it all mean? If you don’t do research, you likely won’t know.

What is an IRB?

An Institutional Review Board (IRB) is a panel of individuals who review and oversee research studies that involve human participants. The IRB ensures that the studies are ethical and that they comply with all regulations. The IRB’s primary function is to protect the rights and welfare of the human research participants, making sure they are treated fairly, ethically and safely.

Anyone doing research must have an IRB, and that not only applies to direct human research (meaning the human is actually being given a drug or using a device), but also for indirect studies where the patient isn’t “touched” so to speak or actively involved. A direct example would be a clinical trial where a new drug is being tested. The human participants actually enroll in the trial and are given test doses of the medication. Even if a human participant is given a placebo, that research must be covered by an IRB to ensure the patients’ physical and psychological well-being. An example of an indirect study is one in which a company or other research entity is just using data from patients, with no direct patient interaction. In some cases an IRB is still needed to use data that may potentially identify who the subjects are.

The bottom line is that an IRB is needed for any drug, device assessment, survey or other study. And this is what makes the FDA’s ruling so unbelievable. Fleetwood says the implications are staggering, and he is absolutely right:

“Under this waiver, any person’s health data, biospecimens (such as blood or tissue samples), or medical records can be accessed and used for FDA-regulated research if it meets vague and highly subjective criteria.”

[corazondebeskar-reads]

well it's love, make it hurt - chapter two

well it's love, make it hurt series

two: watch you hang on every word

series masterlist | prev chapter | next chapter

dom!Din Djarin x sub!f!reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: The Mandalorian teases you on a hunt, and you get your revenge.

Warnings: established d/s relationship but only undertones present here, dirty talk, teasing, bounty hunting, reference to alcohol, mild canon-typical violence, sometimes reader can have a turn being a menace as a treat

Originally written for Kinktober 2023 - Day 11: Exhibitionism/Teasing, inspired by @absurdthirst’s Kinktober 2023 prompt list

also on ao3

3 ABY - Summer

“Got eyes on the quarry yet?” you murmur into your drink, taking a tiny sip to keep up appearances. The cantina is a small, but airy, wooden dome. The heavy tarps had been rolled up to let the breeze through the windows, unfortunately also allowing the swollen afternoon sun to shine in right in your line of sight, unable to see more than black shapes at the entrance.

“No, but I’ve got eyes on something else,” Mando says from on the roof across the path, sniper rifle poised and the sun at his back.

You roll your eyes exaggeratedly, knowing he had a good enough view of your profile to catch the movement.

It was your third day staking out the target's alleged watering hole, and coming back another day would be pushing it. Nobody stayed here for long without a reason, and you were running out of them. It was bad enough that you’d had to actually make notes about the local flora to keep up appearances.

“This is, like, my least sexy disguise,” you say. It was also one of your usuals. Nerds, as it turned out, were on the same page as hunters about practical clothing with plenty of storage. You had the requisites for your cover: binocs, glass tubes, tissue samples from various bushes and sprouts, small clippers, and an assortment of tools for gathering specimen. The less obvious pockets had explosives, a switchblade, smoke grenades, and more.

The rusty orange vest and dark olive shirt hung loose enough around your torso to conceal the blaster tucked into your waistband. A commlink is nestled in the ear facing the wall, behind a curtain of your hair.

“I don’t know,” he muses. “Those shorts are pretty short.”

“What has gotten into you today?” You already know the answer. You don’t fuck on hunts, too wary of getting distracted. But the two bounties before this were on the same planet, and now it’s been over a week since you had touched him. And maybe you had left the fresher door open this morning, hoping he would come in, but he didn’t.

He definitely watched, though.

You, at least, had your drink and your datapad. He had nothing to do but watch, and his mind kept replaying filthy memories from between your thighs.

“Like you aren’t thinking about it too,” he says, voice low and rumbling. “I bet you’re starting to soak through those little shorts.”

You don’t respond, swirling the drink idly in the cup and trying to focus on the botanical database.

“I can see your nipples through your shirt, cyar’ika,” he says. “Is it cold in there?”

“Shut up,” you groan. Every time you responded, you had to take a little sip as a cover. At this rate, you were going to end up actually getting drunk.

“So you’re not thinking about what I’m going to do to you when we get back to the Crest?”

“No, I’m thinking about getting off this damp ass pit of a planet.”

“Hmm. That’s too bad.” He wasn’t actually lingering on you through the scope. He was doing his job, keeping watch, and fastidiously ignoring his half-hard cock. “I was going to help myself to something sweet before we left.”

You cursed through gritted teeth. “Behave,” you hiss.

“That’s my line.”

You could hear the smirk through the crackle of the commlink, so you stretch a hand up to scratch the back of your head, middle finger extended.

He laughs, and even through the double distortion of his helmet and the line, it makes you smile.

“Hey, shit, here—” he cuts off, static buzzing.

Your smile wilts as fast as it had sprouted, but you hold your body in the relaxed slouch over the datapad, still idly twirling the cocktail in one hand and annotating something in meaningless shorthand.

The line clicks twice, and you move to stand. Another being comes around the corner of your booth, and you stumble right into them, knocking the violently green remains of your drink over their tan shawl.

“What the hell?” they begin to unwrap it from their neck.

“I’m so sorry, here; please, let me help,” you tell the tall Pantoran woman. You reach for your little napkin on the table and grab for her shawl with the other, tugging her to you with it. The hand that went for the napkin comes back with a blaster, pressed between her shoulder blades where the shawl hung down.

She freezes.

“C’mon, let’s go,” you murmur in her ear.

She turns her head side to side, looking with pleading eyes to see if any of the other patrons had noticed her predicament. If they do, they know better than to care.

“I can pay.” She still isn’t moving.

You nudge her with the nose of the blaster. “Outside.”

In the alley behind the cantina, Mando leans casually against a wall. He has one leg bent, foot against the wall, arms crossed. “Took you long enough,” he says when you shove the bounty toward him.

She stumbles and screams when she sees him.

You cover her mouth with your hand, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, yeah, he’s a big, scary Mandalorian. Shut up about it.”

Mando forces her arms behind her back and claps the binders on tight, magnetizing them to the side of a stack of crates.

“What’re you doing?” You try to ask, but he crowds you against the wall in seconds, gloved hands running down your sides.

“Need you,” he huffs.

“Are you kriffing kidding me?” the quarry yells.

Mando puts one hand on the holster facing her, and she falls silent.

“C’mon, baby, please.”

You go to push him off and roll your eyes, but at the last minute, decide to wrap your fingers into the cowl of his cape instead. “You need me now, huh? Got yourself worked up?”

He squeezes your waist in warning, but lets you move him so your positions were switched. Well. He cooperates when you tug on his cowl. You aren’t stupid enough to think you could actually move him when he was in full beskar. He was like a broken repulsortank.

His head falls back against the wall when you sink down to your knees in the filthy alley. The quarry tries very hard to look anywhere else. You palm him through his trousers, and he groans, clenching a gloved hand in your hair.

You nuzzle your face against him, pressing kisses through the fabric. He reaches down to pull his cock out, but you wrap a hand around his wrist and use it to pull yourself to your feet.

“Where’re you going, sweetheart?” He tries to pull you closer, and you duck out of his reach, laughing.

“We’re on a job, Mando, where do you think I’m going?” You call over your shoulder, already walking out of the alley and leaving him to grab the woman.

“Gonna pay for that,” he warn.

You spin around and grin. “No, I’m not. We’re not home, sweetheart.”

You turn and keep going, missing the way he stops for a moment, jerking the bounty in the process.

Home. It rings in his head, ricocheting off the helmet and his boner-addled brain.

“Should have just shot me. Then I wouldn’t have had to see that,” the bounty grumbles.

He snaps, “Shut up,” and gives her a harsh shove forward, following your leisurely path back to the Crest.

*title from "Sink Into Me" by Taking Back Sunday

[20dollarlolita]

Can you believe it? 20dollarlolita Pattern School Step 2!

Only took me a year and a half. For people who don't remember a year and a half ago, we've started a project about learning to sew from patterns. The eventual goal is to help people become proficient enough at reading patterns to be able to tell what's going on in a pattern with instructions in another language, taking a pattern that doesn't fit and resizing it so that it does, and taking a pattern that isn't technically lolita and make it work in lolita fashion.

Step 1 was to make a non-fitted item from a commercial pattern. There were two goals of step 1: first to ensure that everyone was familiar with notches, grainlines, and other pattern markings; second was to give people experience with selecting fabric and trims to help give a non-lolita pattern a more lolita feeling.

For step 2, we're modifying a commercial pajama pants pattern into bloomers. In this step, we're going to become familiar with how to prepare a commercial pattern for modification, to compare pattern size to body size and to use your tape measure to judge added fullness, and how to do some basic flat pattern manipulation to add in style ease. Bloomers are a great first manipulation/fitted project due to the loose fit and the fact that, in most lolita applications, the vast majority of it is under your skirt and therefore invisible.

For this specific sample, I'm going to use Gertie's Harlow Pajama Pants pattern for this. I'm doing this because I bought a commercial pattern from Green Store and then promptly lost it, and these pajama pants are a free download. If you are printing the tiled version on your home computer printer, you only need pages 41-52 and 58-71, which will save you about 40 pages of printing.

I highly recommed doing some research and having a good idea of how long the bloomers you want to make should be, as well as how they are decorated. This is my research board.

You can use any pajama pants pattern that has a casing (elastic or drawstring) at the top, and no zipper. In this case, pants with a looser fit are going to be easier to turn into bloomers. If you like wearing your pants at a certain point on your body, I'd check for pajama pants that are at that waistline. The pants that I'm using are designed to sit at your natural waist, which might be too high for some people.

Your first step is to assemble and fortify your pattern. If you're printing this on copy paper, it's going to be strong enough, provided you use enough tape when tiling your pattern. If you're using a tissue paper pattern, like the kind you'd buy at the craft store, it helps to fuse some inexpensive interfacing onto the back of the pattern. We're going to work with these patterns a lot, so it's important to make them a little bit stronger.

Now, you are going to need to go into your pattern instructions and find two important things. The first is your overall seam allowance. In most commercial patterns, this is 5/8 of an inch. Some other patterns might have different seam allowance.

The second is how big your elastic casing at the top will be. In this case, my seam allowance is 5/8" of an inch. Because my hem casing is .25"+1.25" (the amount you turn up plus them amount you turn up the second time), I know that my elastic casing will take up 1.5".

You're now going to mark on your pattern what the stitching line is. Your pattern has seam allowance included. This is very useful for when you cut out the pattern. However, if we take our pattern measurements with seam allowance, we won't have accurate numbers. So we have to clarify where the seam allowance is.

The first thing that I do (not pictured) is to write how much I'm removing along each line. In this case, I write 5/8" along the side and crotch seams, and "1+1/2" at the top where the casing is. Since we're going to drastically shorten these pants, it doesn't matter what the hem allowance is.

Then, I take my ruler, and I mark my stitching line. I do it in pencil, check that I'm correct, and then go back and re-draw it with a red marker. This helps me make sure that I'm following the correct lines.

Make sure you transfer your notches onto your new stitching line. You can see in the picture above how I'm using the ruler to measure where the notch is going to go.

The next step, walking the pattern, is a little tricky to explain. Here's a post that goes into it in great detail.

Basically, you're going to overlap the seam lines, to make sure they line up. The only problem with doing this is that both seam lines are curved. So, instead of lining it all up at once, you're going to go about an inch at a time, letting the pattern rotate so that it stays flat on the table. At any given point, you're only going to have an inch or so of the line overlapping, but that's all you need. If you run into notches that don't line up, cross one out and re-draw it so that it matches the other notch.

If this seems really complicated, you don't really need to do that on this project. It just is a good practice to have.

So you now should have a pattern with all the commercial markings, but where you've drawn the stitching line.

So now, you're going to put your two pieces together along the outseam. Since this is a pretty straight part of a pajama pant, it shouldn't be too difficult to get them to line up. Remember to overlap them on your stitching line, and not on the edge of the pattern.

We're putting them together so that you can measure them both at the same time. it saves us some math.

In bloomers, there are three major measurements to take into consideration. You need to know how big you want the leg to be, how big you want the booty to be, and how long you want the leg of the bloomer to be. In addition, you need to make sure that the waist of your pants will be big enough to fit your waist. In most pajama pants patterns, this isn't a problem, but checking it is good practice.

So, in this picture, you can see that I've measured the cuff of the pants. These two pieces together make up one pant leg, so I just need to measure the two pieces to know how big the pant leg will be.

I then take my tape measure and hold it around my leg at the same size that the pattern is at that point. I just use my eyes and judge if I think that'll be enough room to make my bloomers nice and poofy.

If your pattern doesn't tell you your hip line (mine didn't), it's usually at the point where the two notches on the crotch curve are. One of the reasons why we're doing this on a commercial pattern is that someone did the work for us and put those notches where they should be.

Now, remember, these two pieces are only half of the pant pattern. When we measure the hips of the pattern, we have to multiply this measurement by 2. Half the hip measurement x 2 is the full hip measurement.

Once again, hold this out next to your body and make sure that you like how much fullness you need. Remember that, in addition to having extra fullness because bloomers are poofy, you need room to be able to move and sit down. This measure between the size of my body and the size of the pattern looked pretty good to me. I could definitely have gone a little bit bigger.

The pant leg measurement is okay to be a little bit too long. You can always make it shorter. However, feel free to chop about 18" off the bottom of a full length pant leg. This just makes things a little easier.

Now, we're going to move the two pattern pieces until they're the size we like. If both the hip measurement and the leg measurement are too small, we're going to move both pattern pieces apart. To turn pajama pants into bloomers, this is likely to be the most common adjustment.

If the hip measurement is pretty okay, but the cuff measurement is too small, you're just going to move the bottom part of the pattern apart.

You'll notice that this is still enlarging the hip measurement a little bit. This is fine for bloomers since the style is for a lot of fullness in that area.

And if your cuff is the correct size, but your hip measure is too big, you can keep the cuff size the same and move the hip line apart until it's the size you want.

This technique of lining up the pattern pieces, and then moving them until they're the size you want, is the basics of flat patterning. As long as you follow the philosophy of keeping the measurements you like roughly the same, and moving the areas that you don't like until they measure what you need, you can easily resize a pattern without having to re-draw everything.

If you had to spread your pieces apart, tape some paper underneath the gap. This piece of paper should bridge the gap between the two pieces, turning them into one piece. Really quickly double-check that these pieces measure how you want. Then, mark a line in the middle of the paper bridge. Draw your notches onto the cut line. Cut the two pieces apart on that line. You've now made both pieces bigger. Tape another little piece of paper onto the cut edge of each piece, mark out your seam allowance, and cut that off.

Bonus points: swap the position of the pattern pieces, so that the crotch curve is one continuous line. Measure the length of that. Then, hold your tape measure along where the crotch curve of your pants will fit, and make sure that you have clearance there. I'm not going to photograph that, andi t's not super necessary with most pajama patterns.

Go ahead and cut your pieces out.Even though I'd shortened the pattern, mine were still too long to fit on a 2-yard cut of fabric. Since I knew that my pants were a little long, I just let the end hang off the edge of the fabric.

Here's the really magical part about this. Even though you've resized your pattern, you still have all your seam allowance, notches, grainlines, and your pattern instructions. Since you kept all your pattern markings consistent, you can now follow the instructions that came with your pattern. Go up until it tells you to hem the pants, and then try them on.

In my case, my pants were way too long to be bloomers. I knew that I wanted to do a casing with a heading, which does use s pretty big hem allowance, but even so, I'd need to shorten them.

Check out your bloomer research board to see how long you want them to be. I wanted some long ones that did the old-school bloomer peek, so I made them on the longer side. I also didn't want them to ride up into my butt when sitting in a wheelchair.

So, time to fold up the bottoms, add my elastic, and call the basic construction finished.

I looked up on my research board to try to find a good way to decorate these. One of the nice things about bloomers is that you can wear them with a wide variety of coords. This makes them one of those items where you can add some extra lace, and then use that lace in multiple coords. I feel like, since these bloomers are a good way of adding detail in multiple coords, it's a good excuse to add a little bit extra lace. You can see how much of a difference it makes in this picture. It really turns them from baggy shorts into real bloomers. I really recommend sometimes investing in a couple of big purchases of lace. If you have lots of lace on hand, you're more likely to include it in your projects, which can really help push a meh project into proper lolita fashion territory. I have a rule that I don't spend more than $1.50 a yard on lace unless it's really fantastic, and I manage to find things at that point on Aliexpress and sites like Cheeptrims.

Now go on and let them peek out of your favorite skirt. And remember, definitely don't press that skirt before putting this picture in your tutorial.