#Is There Always A Smell With Bacterial
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Stupid Lungs
Pneu-mo-nia; noun: lung inflammation caused by bacterial or viral infection, in which the air sacs fill with pus and may become solid. Inflammation may affect both lungs ( double pneumonia ), one lung ( single pneumonia ), or only certain lobes ( lobar pneumonia ). (wandanat x reader)
Word Count: 3513
(part two)
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“Y/n, you’re clearly too sick to be out of bed. I can hear your lungs crackling from here!” Tony exclaimed after what must’ve been your third coughing fit interrupted the meeting. He was standing in the corner opposite you, glaring. Unfortunately, the glare was undercut by the clear worry in his voice.
Tony was right about your breathing, it wasn’t great. Every inhale felt like glass cutting your throat which eventually moved to sit heavily on top of your lungs. Each coughing fit was wet, but refused to do anything to help with the mucus which had made a home in your bronchi.
“I’m fine.” You choked out, fighting to stifle a sneeze building in your sinuses. Sneezing would just make everything hurt worse. Naturally you lost, and aimed two unfortunately wet sneezes into your elbow. Instantly your cheeks flushed from embarrassment and you stared at the table as you wiped your drippy nose on your sleeve, wishing for a box of tissues.
“Get out, germ face.” Tony’s voice cut through the thick fog of congestion that had settled in your ears and you shot him what you wanted to be a devastating look. It wasn’t very good though, because your eyes burned and you couldn’t stop sniffling.
“Tony’s right, let’s go.” Natasha murmured, pulling you up by your arm.
“No, I’m staying. We-we have to–” You sneezed aggressively into your hand, tears pricking your dull eyes. You hated having so little control over your stupid, useless body.
“No, you’re not. FRIDAY, disinfect the whole room. Nothing that will kill us, just murder the germs. Y/n, I’m serious, I will drag you out of here by your hair if you don’t leave right the fuck now.” You knew that Tony wouldn’t go anywhere near you right now, but you wouldn't be surprised if Nat just threw you over her shoulder. Natasha’s hand had stayed glued to your back the entire time and she kept flashing you nervous looks.
“On it boss,” A vent opened and the smell of disinfectant filled the room, just in time for you to start coughing again.
“You need me to take you to bed?” Natasha asked, reaching out to take your hand. You pulled away, embarrassment flushing hot on your cheeks. You hated that Natasha had to see you like this.
You’d fallen in love with the woman from the moment you laid eyes on her. Everything she did was breathtaking. The way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, that little crinkle in her forehead she got every time she worried, how her hair seemed to glow in the sunset. But she was with Wanda. Wanda was a whole different problem. Oh, gods, Wanda.
You’d nearly died when you’d first seen her. Her auburn curls bounced when she walked, her brilliant smile that could light up a room, the way she was always so kind to you, especially when you’d first joined the team. You’d arrived five months ago riddled with uncontrollable social anxiety. These heroes saved you from yourself. You owed them everything, but your feelings for Wanda and Natasha were beyond anything you’d ever felt. And they were dating. So you got to watch their joy from the outside, wishing you could melt into their arms.
“I’m fine Natasha, I’ll go myself. Just,” You stood and a wave of black spots danced in your vision. The hand that had brushed your fingers returned and you pulled away tearfully.
“Please don’t touch.” You muttered, racing out of the room.
You made it to the elevator without collapsing, but as soon as you reached it you fell against the wall, a sneezing fit overcoming your body. A quiet sob escaped from your painfully clenched lungs, but it turned into a bout of miserable sounding coughs.
“Ms. Y/n, I believe that I should alert one of the Avengers. Ms. Maximoff is in the kitchen making something to eat, I will have her come to your aid.” FRIDAY informed, not really looking to give you a choice in the matter. You whimpered quietly, trying to get her to stop.
“N-no, please…FRIDAY, I’m fine. Don-don’t tell Wanda. Don’t tell Wanda. Just unlock my room and set up a zoom call. I’m still going to the meeting, even if they kick me out of the meeting.” The last sentence was said with a lot more confidence than you felt, primarily because you were hoping to trick yourself into feeling more normal.
“Ms., I do not believe that this is a wise decision. Ms. Maximoff would be happy to assist you
“I don’t care. As soon as I get off, sanitize the elevator.” You demanded, forcing yourself to regain your composure. You had a witch to fool.
Getting past Wanda was easier than you’d expected. The woman was caught up in her cooking, humming along to a song playing softly in the background. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched her work, sniffling quietly so as not to disturb her.
“Hey Y/n/n, meeting go well?” She asked, not really bothering to look at you, she was too busy cooking. Whatever it was, it probably smelled amazing.
“Hey Wanda,” You managed not to sound too congested, but it was notable enough that you sort of ran past her, not allowing the conversation to continue. You could feel her eyes on you as you left, the concern starting to build in her stomach. You always stopped to talk to her even if you were busy. Hell, you let her read your thoughts when you were on missions so that you could have a fucking conversation.
She shook her head slightly, vowing to keep her mind open to your thoughts. She wouldn’t pry unless you allowed her too but this way she could hear you if you were in significant distress.
—
“FRI, connect me to the conference room.” You mumbled, sort of collapsing onto your bed. If you were in bed you might as well get comfortable. You’d just managed to wrap a blanket around your shoulders when the team appeared on the TV screen, in the middle of a heated discussion.
“Hi guys,” You croaked, sniffling against the fabric of your well loved blanket. It was worn with years of love and had helped you through near countless nightmares. It was your most prized possession.
“No! FRIDAY, get her off. Now.” Tony ordered, practically leaping out of his skin at your voice. You’d scared him, and he was a little embarrassed.
“I-if you do that I’ll just come downstairs!” You burst out, wiping your nose on your blanket. There was a sneeze building in your sinuses and you were trying to keep it at bay. The Avengers were all staring at you from the other side of the screen, Natasha in open mouthed disbelief.
She couldn’t understand how you were still functioning. She’d half expected to hear FRI alerting everyone that you’d passed out in the elevator. You didn’t acknowledge her in fear that you’d just start crying. You wanted her to hold you. Well, you really just wanted to be held. But it would’ve been nice if she held you.
“Look, she’s not going to listen to reason. Just let her listen until she falls asleep.” Clint reasoned, shrugging. He was obviously concerned but he was also right. You shrugged, acknowledging it.
Deciding that all they could do was let you stay, they went back to the debrief, discussing how best to go about stealth tactics next time. A lot of it was centered around hiding better. For some reason Tony was really concerned with hiding.
“Heh…hetchiw!” You stifled a sneeze into your shirt, trying your best not to interrupt. Natasha’s eyes flicked towards you and you forced a small smile, sniffling wetly. You wished that you had tissues, not grabbing them was probably a bit of an oversight. Natasha just shook her head, one eyebrow raised. She looked down quickly, and then back up at you.
Your phone buzzed by your side and you picked it up, blinking a couple of times as you tried to focus on the screen. The words were swimming in front of your eyes and it hurt to…well it hurt to see. Your eyes felt like they were on fire and you recognized that you probably should’ve checked your temperature earlier.
My Assassin- You’re better than this x.
You- I’m fine, Tash, focus on the debrief or Tony will get mad.
You saw Natasha smirk from the video feed and she rolled her brilliant green eyes. She almost looked happy for a second, but then a particularly harsh coughing fit tore from your lungs. A glob of mucus filled your mouth and you spat it out into the trash can, trying to ignore the greenish tint. That probably wasn’t a good thing, but you’d deal with it later.
My Assassin- bullshit. your breathing is terrible, we might need to take you to see bruce. please go to sleep, i’ll record the whole damn meeting if it’ll get you to sleep.
“You’re done, Fri kick her off and lock her door. Sleep well Y/n/n.” Tony said, waving a hand at you. Before you could put in a legitimate protest the TV screen was off and your door clicked. Tears instantly filled your eyes, fear jamming its way down your throat. You couldn’t be locked in like this. You couldn’t do it again. No more. You needed to go.
“FRIDAY let me out! Let me out, please Fri let me out!” You ran to the door and pounded on it, jiggling the knob, desperation filling your actions. “Let. Me. Out! I need to get out, please, please out! Please!” You slid to the floor, banging your head against the hardwood. It was the only thing you could think of. There was nothing else left, this was the end. This was how you died.
A soft click brought you out of your panic and the door opened, spilling you out of your room and into a warm body.
Tears flowed down your cheeks as you clung to the person, chest heaving. You didn’t care who it was.
“Hey, hey I’ve got you,” Wanda's arms wrapped around your middle and you found yourself burying your head in her neck. The action was almost involuntary, as your touch starved brain melted into her, trying desperately to hold back sobs.
You shook against her with unheard cries, clutching fistfulls of her shirt as if she would disappear if you loosened your grip.
“Okay honey, just breathe. I’m right here. Can you tell me what happened?” She crooned, very gently running her fingers over your scalp. The pet name wasn’t lost on you, although you were too miserable to acknowledge the fluttery feeling in your chest.
“I don’t feel good…” You bawled, well aware that you sounded like a child. You were too tired to care anymore. This was the worst that you’d felt in a long time and your body craved the comfort that she brought.
“Shh, shh, that’s alright, we can fix that. It’s all going to be okay Y/n/n.” You sobbed again, her kind words sounding like a lie to your fever muddled mind.
“Why aren’t you in bed, baby girl?” She murmured, shifting so that she could stare into your dull, glass eyes. You looked away, biting your lip hard. Your face was streaked with tears and snot. You dragged your sleeve over your nose and sniffled wetly, trying to regain some dignity. The attempt failed epically, as it only served to make you look more pitiful.
“I…” You hesitated, and shook your head. You couldn’t believe yourself. You were clinging to one of the women you were in love with, ready to tell her whatever she asked. Ready to tell her that you were scared to be vulnerable and alone. That you were scared to be trapped again.
Wanda gave you a sad little smile and leaned forward to kiss your forehead. You froze automatically, your heart racing in your chest. Her lips were soft and warm, the kiss more tender than anything you’d ever felt. No one had ever cared for you like this and you didn’t know what to do.
You could still feel the pressure of the kiss on your heated skin when she pulled away and reached up to caress your cheek.
“You’ve got a pretty high fever, hun. Can we get you into bed?” She asked, voice impossibly gentle. You shook your head, not quite ready to explain that you didn’t want her to go and fearing that she’d leave as soon as you were situated in your bedroom.
“Hey, no, don’t cry, I’m not leaving. How about the couch? Would that be better? I’ll bring out your favorite blanket and get you some juice, or gatorade or whatever you want. Come on, I’m not going anywhere. It’s alright.” She soothed, swiping the tears away with her knuckles.
“Please don’t go away,” You begged, pressing yourself back against her. “T-tony locked my door…’scared me…” You admitted, worried that she wouldn’t understand. Instead of the confusion you expected, you saw rage. Pure, untethered rage. Her eyes glowed slightly red and you almost flinched away, afraid that she was mad at you.
“No, no. Not you, never you.” She pushed your hair away from your forehead, doing everything she could to fix her mistake. “Come on Y/n, let's get you settled on the couch.” She wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you against her side.
You dropped your head onto her shoulder and leaned heavily on her as the two of you walked to the couch. You were out of energy and you were now satisfied that she was safe. She’d never hurt you.
“Alright sweetheart, Natasha’s going to be done soon and she’s going to sit with you while I make some soup. Sit down for me, you’re swaying.” She took your shoulders and eased you onto the couch, stopping to stroke your hair.
“I’m going to get you some medicine. Just sit tight.” The brunette started to walk away but you snagged her hand, clinging to it tightly.
“Stay with me, please…please,” Your desperate pleas absolutely broke Wanda's heart. She knew that she should get medicine for you, but you were just so miserable she couldn’t bear to leave you alone.
“Hey, hey don’t cry, I’m here. I’m right here.” The mesmerizing woman sat beside you and without a second (or really a first) thought you curled up in her lap, sniffling and whimpering your misery. “Fri, can you get me Y/n’s temp?” She murmured, brushing a thumb across your heated check.
“Ms. Y/n is currently running a temperature of 102.7, I recommend hydration and medication. I am also detecting a buildup of fluid in her lungs, causing difficulty breathing. I believe that she has contracted pneumonia, seemingly from ignoring a previous illness. She will require antibiotics.” FRIDAY said, eliciting a curse from Wanda. She wasn’t thrilled that you’d ignored your health.
“My god, Y/n you’re an idiot. FRIDAY, get Natty up here. Tell her to bring Bruce.” You shook your head weakly, sniffling exhaustedly. A chesty cough wracked your body Wanda rubbed your back, trying to soothe the spasms. Breaths rattled though your lungs, harsh wheezes kept you from getting a deep gulp of air.
“Hey, hey I need you to calm down,” She soothed, pulling you up in an effort to help you breathe.
“C-can’t…Wanda!” You sobbed, terror blooming in your eyes.
“Okay, alright, change of plans. FRIDAY we’re meeting them in the Medbay. Baby girl, I know it's hard for you to breathe, but I promise that it’s all going to be okay. Sit up for me, sweetheart.” She pulled you up against your will, the petnames streaming out of her lips. You imagined this is what asthma felt like. Your chest was so tight and your body was fighting to cough up everything in your lungs.
“That’s it, that’s it, come on lean on me.” Wanda had pulled you against her hip, using magic to keep from dropping you. It wasn’t that she was weak or you were heavy, but dragging dead weight is a difficult feat no matter the circumstance.
“...’m sorry…” You forced out, dropping your head against Wanda’s shoulder. She rubbed your back as you climbed onto the elevator. Said elevator basically dropped the few floors to get you to the Medbay, although you didn’t feel the change of altitude. You loved the AI.
“You’re doing amazing. You’re doing so, so well. Just keep breathing for me. We’re going to get those lungs opened up in just a few more minutes.” Wanda murmured, scooping you up into her arms. You curled yourself against her, leaning into her warmth.
Only moments later the warmth left you. The body that had kept you safe was gone. You reached out for her, but your vision was starting to fade. There wasn’t enough oxygen getting to your brain. You couldn’t stay awake.
“Hey, hey no keep your eyes open. Keep your damn eyes open!” A harsh voice ordered, helping you focus on the real world. “That’s it, eyes open. Look at me, okay? Focus here. Bruce is going to put something over your nose, okay? It’s going to feel claustrophobic but I need you to keep it on.” Natasha, it was Natasha. When’d she get here? Did you fall asleep?
“Only for a second love, but now you’re going to take a breath okay?” Bruce's face swam into your eyeline and you didn’t fight it as the mask was slipped over your face. You knew logically that you were safe but the claustrophobia took over and you tried to pull it off, panic growing.
Your arms were pressed to your side forcing you to give in to the medicated air. You sobbed terrified, but your lungs were opening up, breathing was becoming easier.
“There you go baby, there you go. Deep breaths for me. It's all okay.” Natasha soothed, releasing her hold on your arm. As it became easier to breathe you calmed down, your body forcing your mind to relax.
“You’re doing so good, beautiful. This is going to help so much. We’ll get you feeling better in no time.” Wanda was stroking your hair, running long fingers through your matted locks. Now that you could breathe, you were struggling to stay awake. You were so tired.
“Bruce, can you fix her?” The brunette inquired, shifting to stroke your fever hot cheek. You reached out and grabbed her hand, wanting her to hold you.
“Yes,” Bruce sighed, sounding relieved. “She’ll need IV antibiotics and after this breathing treatment I’ll switch her to pure oxygen. Her lungs don’t sound great, but that’s to be expected. Pneumonia is a little tricky, but she should be okay.” He smiled gently at you and you returned it, grateful.
“Tired…” You mumbled through the mask, basically asking if you could finally take a nap. Natasha leaned down to kiss your forehead, and you nearly melted. Two pretty women had kissed you today. If you’d been feeling even half decent, you might’ve been able to enjoy it better.
“Go to sleep, we’ll be right here.” She promised, reaching out to grab Wanda’s hand. The other woman nodded, looking a little tired herself. You’d sort of stressed her out.
“Sorry…”
“Shush, no apologies from you. Just rest, okay? We’ll make sure that everythings okay. Bruce is going to put an IV in which will help with that fever and you should be feeling better in no time.” She reassured, allowing you to slip off into a dreamless sleep.
—
After about an hour Bruce decided that you were well enough to be moved back to your room, provided that the IV stayed in, as well as the oxygen mask. You were still virtually unconscious, but the women were beyond happy to bring you to your room.
Natasha scooped you up in her arms while Wanda rolled your IV poll along with you.
The gorgeous redhead placed you gently in your bed, smiling at the way you attempted to curl around her as she let you go. The moment she pulled away completely you let out a pitiful whine, reaching out at the loss of warmth. You wanted her back.
“Tasha!” You mumbled in your sleep, threatening to wake up in your effort to get to her.
“Aw, little baby.” She slipped her shoes off and crawled into the bed beside you, wrapping her arms around your shaking body. “Get in her Wands, she needs hugs.” Nat said, waving her over. The brunette grinned and laid down on your other side, grabbing your hand. You smiled tiredly and nuzzled into her neck.
“Think we can keep her?” Natasha murmured, sitting up slightly so that she could see her girlfriend.
“Thought you’d never ask.” Wanda replied, leaning over to kiss the spy. They'd talk about it tomorrow if you felt well enough to do so.
#fever#sick reader#sickfic#fanfiction#marvel#marvel sickfic#sick fanfiction#wanda maximoff#marvel mcu#wanda x y/n#wandanat x sickreader#wandanat x reader#wandanat#wanda x nat x reader#wanda maxmoff x y/n#wanda x you#wanda x natasha#wanda x reader#wanda fanfic#mcu sickfic#natasha x reader#natasha x y/n#natasha romanoff#natasha romonova#natasha x wanda#natasha x you#fever whump#pneumonia#scarlet witch x black widow#scarlet witch x you
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hi! I have a question about sexual health clinics - long story short I have a pretty strong fishy smell coming from my vagina so I'm planning on visiting the sexual health clinic at my college. I'm nervous though, and while you obviously couldn't know exactly what procedure is at my local clinic, I was wondering what general things should happen at an appointment? What sort of questions will I be asked? Do I have to show someone my vagina? Will they believe that I'm not sexually active? (true fact but doctors are ALWAYS sceptical when I say this)
hi anon,
you're right that this will vary from one location to another. if you're having a health issue with your vagina then your healthcare provider will likely be asking questions about your sexual history; whether or not they believe your answers isn't something that I can answer, although a good healthcare provider should, of course, listen to their patients. there's a good chance they'll want to perform an exam and possibly take samples, which is something to be aware of and prepare for but also something that you can call ahead and ask about.
you can also call ahead to the clinic and ask if there's information about what you can expect if you come in with a likely case of bacterial vaginosis (the most typical cause of the fishy odor you're describing) and request further information about what kind of treatment you can expect from your visit. knowing what to expect in advance can be a huge help!
if it does come to a vaginal exam and you're feeling nervous, that's totally normal! very few people enjoy vaginal exams, but it's totally possible to get through them with minimal pain. my best advice is to come in prepared for a little pain if you're not accustomed to vaginal penetration and have a really honest chat with the person performing your examination about your expectations. when I get my pap smears done, I always open by telling the gyno that vaginal penetration isn't super easy for me and that I may need to swear through the exam and take breaks if it gets overwhelming. every examiner I've ever had has been totally understanding and down to work with me on that; communicating can help so so much.
I hope everything goes well and you get the treatment you need!
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Some period pants sold by high street retailers contain high levels of silver that could have health and environmental implications for consumers, an investigation has found.
Silver is used as an antimicrobial agent and is typically added to period pants to combat user concerns about smell and hygiene.
However, scientists have increasingly warned about the potential health effects. The US Food and Drug Administration found that nanosilver can kill lactobacillus, the healthy bacteria in the vagina that help fight off infection. This can put period pant users more at risk of harmful bacteria, potentially leading to an increased risk of bacterial infections and pregnancy complications.
Natalie Hitchins, the head of home products and services at Which?, said: “Consumers should be cautious buying period pants which contain silver as experts have concerns about the health implications.
“Which? believes brands should also clearly state which products contain silver so shoppers can make informed decisions about what they are buying and the possible risks.”
The consumer rights group worked with an Italian consumer organisation, Altroconsumo, to independently test popular brands and check if they contained any chemicals of concern. They were worried to find that some products contained significant levels of silver, and this was not always made clear on the packaging.
Intima by Bodyform and pants by Marks & Spencer in particular contained notably more silver than other brands, at 126.7mg/kg and 57.8mg/kg respectively. Other brands contained 8.3mg/kg, 7.4mg/kg, and 0.9mg/kg.
Essity, the owner of Bodyform and Modibodi, said silver copper zeolite was used to “prevent odour when wearing the pants for up to 12 hours”. It added that all of its “washable underwear is certified according to Oeko-Tex Standard 100, which means that every single component has been tested for harmful substances” and “that the underwear has been designated as harmless for human health”.
An M&S Spokesperson said: “We do not use either nano silver or silver zeolite and, like many brands, use a small amount of silver chloride in the middle part of the gusset – away from the skin – which is perfectly safe, approved by the UK and EU, and designed to combat odour.”
Which? said it believed the use of silver was unnecessary and that previous testing by Altroconsumo had shown that textile items treated in this way did not have the promised antimicrobial properties.
The European Chemicals Agency says silver treatments, such as nanosilver and silver zeolite, are toxic to aquatic life with long-lasting effects.
The tests Which? carried out can detect any silver above 0.1mg/kg, and it found none in Primark, Repeat, Wuka, Lovable and Sloggi pants. Sloggi’s website says it does use a silver-based antimicrobial, and Primark says it uses Micro-Fresh, which contains silver chloride.
A Primark spokesperson said: “The nature of period pants means there is a potential for odour to develop during wear (in the same way that bacteria can cause socks and shoes to develop odours during wear) and our antimicrobial finish minimises such odours.”
Sloggi did not reply to Which? at the time of publication.
There are no legal limits in the UK about how much silver can be added to period pants. Manufacturers do not have to declare the presence of silver on their packaging or website.
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do you have any x-virus headcanons?? i’ve scrolled through his entire tag on tumblr and i’m DYING for new content 🙏🙏
RAHHH CODY <33
Thank you so much for requesting!!
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X-virus general headcanons
Pansexual, he/him, 22 years old
5'8"
He's very cocky and egotistical
Almost never thinks he's in the wrong
He enjoys painting his nails yellow
He works as one of the manors many doctors/nurses, however he specializes in viruses, bacterial things and anything related to radiation
He is absolutely the type of guy to send people links filled with god awful things
He is a hoe for rings
He always has rings on every finger
His proxy tattoo is on his palm
He has a nose ring, an eyebrow ring, a tongue piercing and his helix pierced
He's considered getting a belly button ring
But he decided against it because he felt like it would come off as "too feminine"
I feel like he would be obsessed with yin-yang imagery
He has a yin-yang necklace, tattoo, ring, etc
When he isn't working, you can usually find him in his room, playing roblox
He has a pet bunny named Jade
She is mostly black and she is his everything <33
She's the only small animal that's safe from his experiments
I feel like he would either smell really musty or smell of really strong cologne
You decide which one
He's very immature
In everything he does <//3
He thinks Jane is very pretty
He knows that she's a lesbian though, so he doesn't make any advances
Speaking of Jane, i feel like he'd be one of those guys that is like "omg goth girls are soooo hot" and then whenever they see an actual goth, they call them weird
Im so sorry <///3
He may be a genius, but he's a little stupid
#creepypasta#slender mansion#creepypasta x y/n#creepypasta x you#creepypasta x female reader#x virus
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I think comfort and the act of self soothing should be normal.
take a comfort item with you places, especially ones that cause anxiety. (this could be a stuffed animal or trinket)
buy clothes that are comfortable and make you happy, that could mean a specific texture or having duplicates of the exact same item. (i do this)
Stim freely, you deserve to take up space and if people are bothered by that then that’s their problem.
carry a little kit for yourself when you go out
hand sanitizer
neoprene gloves (i wear them to protect against germs and unwanted textures)
a comfy smell like a lotion or perfume
sun glasses (it’s okay to wear them inside, fluorescent lights are awful)
headphones, ear buds, ear plugs
don’t forget your mask (covid is still here and wearing a mask is honestly really nice for when i’m self conscious of people staring at me)
bring yourself some water (or your favorite drink) and a lil snack, you deserve the treat!
a little mirror if you’re worried about your facial expressions
some of your favorite stim toys
tissues
a comfort texture to reset from a bad one
if you wear contacts, bring your glasses just in case you need a break
a little notebook/sketchbook and something to draw or write with
chapstick
anti bacterial wipes
bandaids, alcohol swabs, and anti bacterial cream (i’m super clumsy)
Bring a buddy with you when you go somewhere (i feel better walking with someone)
listen to your favorite music or something that soothes you
surround yourself with people who love you and want to help you feel the best you can
read your favorite books as many times as you want
I’m always here if you want to vent or talk about anything
take a bubble bath and get yourself a rubber ducky (if bathing is too hard you can use makeup wipes or baby wipes for a cleaner feel)
take as many naps as you need to (it’s hard to care for yourself if you’re tired and you deserve the rest)
cut your food smaller so it looks less intimidating
take a break from the internet and try to do a craft or an art project
journal about your feelings or day/keep a mood tracker
It’s completely okay to take medication, you shouldn’t feel bad for needing them to live your life
take some time to go outside whether that’s going for a walk or just sitting on your porch
terfs, nsfw, self shippers dni
#actuallytraumatized#actually neurodiverse#actually disabled#actually autism#actuallyautistic#actually ocd#actually autistic#actually neurodivergent#autistic pride#autistic life#autistic feels#being autistic#autistic mlm#autistic things#autistic experiences#neurodiversity#neurodivergent#disabled representation#disabled community#disabled pride#ocd posting#positive affirmations#positive thoughts#positivity#positivethinking#self care#self soothing#mentalheathawareness#mentally ill#mental illness
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Make Your Own Cosmetics, Get What You Actually Want
Once you've been in zero waste, eco friendly, solarpunk/lunarpunk circles for a while, it's easy to forget the steps you took when you started. There are lots of DIY projects I've been doing for 10+ years now, and I keep doing them because they work (for me). Yet, when I sit back and think "am I doing enough?" I always gloss over the myriad things that have become part of my everyday life.
Making these things won't save the environment, but you'll get products that meet your needs on your terms, will save you money, and you won't have to worry about a company discontinuing your favorites. Plus, it seems like a lot less packaging to just buy a brick of beeswax and toss in some kitchen stuff you already had to make makeup.
Henna
I got really lucky, I always wanted red hair and henna is a natural dye that only comes in red. Well, more of a coppery tone. But, here's the other cool thing: the henna process is anti-fungal and controls dandruff. Half the time, I remember to color my hair because my scalp starts getting itchy 6+ weeks later and I start to get flakes. Coloring my hair takes care of my scalp and I don't need dandruff shampoo to keep it healthy. It's cost-effective, buying high quality henna for a year's worth of color (for my length and thicc hair) is about $60 for 18-months' of materials. I mix it when I need it, and keep the powder in the freezer. Pro-tip, if you or your partner don't like the grassy, hay-like smell of henna, add cardamom or ginger powder to the mix. It doesn't change the color but it'll knock down the scent.
I learned everything I needed to know about Henna for Hair here: http://hennaforhair.com and buy through Catherine's store because I know I'm getting real, quality henna powder.
Oh and a cloth wrap for your hair will let you keep the henna covered without wasting plastic wrap every time you redo your roots. I've been using the same 'turbie twist' wraps for years now. I made them from old t-shirts and they're stained as fuck. Who cares? This is basically their only job.
Carmine Lip Color
No, it isn't vegan. Yes, it's made of bugs. It's also a spectacular color, the insects aren't abused in the process of gathering or raising. They're actually parasites on nopal cactus, they have a simple niche and serve it well. I learned this lip stain recipe from Humblee & Me, and have found that the anti-bacterial doesn't seem to be necessary, ymmv. A 2.5 gram sample pack of carmine from TKB has lasted me almost a year and I wear this almost daily. I find that the glycerin really helps keep my lips from drying out too badly, so I wear my lip stain even when I'm not planning on being seen by other people. I spend about $20 on lip color for a year and that's including the bottles I use to store it (tiny eyedroppers work best imo) and the glycerin. Not quite zero waste but darn close.
Note: I'm still trying to find a simple recipe for black goth lipstick that I like. So far, my attempts have had a nasty texture and aren't worth the trouble.
Eyebrow Fill
My favorite brand of eyebrow liner discontinued the best color I ever found, so I decided to make my own. Beeswax, cocoa powder, activated charcoal, and almond oil made a little pot of eyebrow fill that suits my needs beautifully. Go super light on the charcoal until you know you've got the color you want. My brows are pretty dark but not fully black, so I do a dark chocolate sort of shade. I think I made my last batch about 11 months ago and it's still half full. I use it daily, apply with an angled brush, and it's never given me breakouts or anything. I don't even wash it off, because I am lazy.
Body Powder/Dry shampoo
Growing up in California, I didn't need this stuff. Living in Oregon? Summer would be awful without body powder. It's also a nice way to have a fragrance on. Pour your favorite perfume (I love Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab oils) onto a cotton ball, put that ball in a jar with a bunch of corn starch. Shake. Leave it for a month. You now have scented body powder. It's a decent dry shampoo, too, I just brush it into my dark hair and it disappears.
Tooth Powder
There is NOTHING wrong with using conventional toothpaste if it meets your needs. I have particular reasons for using tooth powder. These include hating the taste of most toothpaste and needing to avoid fluoride because of my particular thyroid condition. (Fluoride isn't bad for everyone! It isn't ideal for everyone. Figure out what you need!) I make my own tooth powder, it works well enough for me and I don't hate brushing my teeth like I used to. 1 part baking soda, 1 part bentonite clay, some ground cloves. Mix it up, keep in a glass jar (metal will bond with the clay, bad things happen, this is why we use glass or plastic for storage). $20 of materials = LOADS of tooth powder.
Cutting Hair
It's way easier than you think. I cut my own hair and I do a graduated bob which is a little more complex than most at-home cuts. I taught myself. I use decent shears (don't use scissors) and a Wahl hair trimmer set. Learn this skill on yourself, and when people find out you can do hair, they'll come to you for their own needs. Great way to provide mutual aid (one of my parents is trans and getting haircuts in a salon would be extremely stressful for her, so I cut her hair and save her money and suffering). You could also do skill trades! I trade haircuts for massages from a massage therapist friend, for example.
Protip: Dust yourself with body powder before cutting hair, it makes the little shards of cut hair way less prone to sticking to you. You'll still want a shower but it'll just be less icky.
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Hey luna, I have something to ask discharge related. Because cough (to awkward for irl-) cough.
Anyway, my discharge has always been clear and white-ish, as of the past month its still been white-ish but the stains turn a nasty brown-yellow ish color in my poor underwear, plus I've had a musty funky smell too. I've talked to my mother about it, she says my PH is off but i have a gut feeling its not, I've been treating for a off balance PH for 3 weeks and still hardly any improvement. I just wanted to ask if this kinda thing is normal because I'm still a virgin, (other then messing around with myself) but yeah, I'm a tad bit worried.
I apologize if this is gross, i just figured since you answered sex related stuff you could help me out- 😅
Thanks Luna! Have a great rest of your day/afternoon/evening or night!❤
-🍄
Hii honey, first of all I don’t think this is gross at all so don’t apologize ☺️
Discharge can actually stain your underwear and turn dark fabrics into a red/brownish color, that’s totally normal! When your discharge is a little more on the acidic end of the pH scale it can react with the fabric and laundry detergents when washing your underwear, leaving bleach-like stains!
When it comes to the smell of our kitty, please don’t forget that she isn’t supposed to smell like flowers, no matter what society likes to tell us. If you still think that something is wrong with your smell you should just ask your gynecologist! Normally it’s nothing bad, your Kitty can smell differently for a lot of reasons so it’s hard to tell as an outsider lol. Basically, the reason for a bad smell can be from sweating, a diet, hormone changes (menstrual cycle, pregnancy, menopause), your ph is off and of course std‘s too. Another reason for a bad smell can be poor hygiene but also too much hygiene down there! To be clear: While you can (and should!) wash the outside of your kitty (aka the vulva), you should never start going in your hole with water, a washcloth, or soap. Never.
Washing inside the vaginal canal isn't just unnecessary, it's also dangerous. Washing yourself from inside, especially with soap, can upset your natural bacterial makeup and pH (which leads to a bad smell!)
Just make sure you shower enough and only wash yourself from outside with clear water and no soap, and change your underwear 1-2 times a day. If you notice that the smell isn’t going away or it gets worse, you should go and ask your gynecologist. They’re very judgmental free so don’t be scared to ask for help! 🩵
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happy may the fourth as a treat here's the entire uncut first chapter of race condition for you to chew on while I spend the next year or so finishing the story
All interrogations are kind of the same. The walls have slightly different coloring or there's a few chairs more or less, but in the end it's always a depressing room you're not allowed to leave, locked in with a person who thinks you've done something wrong and will do just about anything to get you to admit it.
It's not really about truth at that point. By the time you're under the hot lights, they've already decided you'll swing and are just waiting for you to supply the right noose. They know the game. They can twist your words around until they've got you saying things you never did or even thought of, anything so long as they can pin you and send you off to rot. It's like that every time--they'll tell you it isn't, but they're lying. You don't make friends in an interrogation.
I sat there, cuffed, across from a man with the same face as mine and sad eyes that could break even the hardest heart straight down the middle. He didn't look like a High General or a Master Jedi or an interrogator--he looked like a tired man who was trying his best, and maybe that's what he was. Maybe it really was breaking his heart to have to handle me this way, but it didn't matter. I'd known my plans would hurt people, even decent ones like him, and that made me sorry, but not sorry enough to stop. If he was anything like me, he would understand in the end. Maybe not enough to forgive me, but I wasn't doing all this for forgiveness.
At that point, we'd been at it for at least two hours, going around in circles. He was good at the questions game, but I was good at being difficult.
"Obi-Wan," he said in that Coruscanti accent of his. "Why did you do it?"
"You'll have to be more specific, dear," I replied.
"Infiltrating the army. Sabotaging Republic military engagements and stealing classified information. Collaborating with Sith. What's the point? What's your goal?"
I shrugged. "I didn't tell you the first ten times you asked, Master Jedi, so I don't see why you think I'll tell you now."
"I'm trying to understand," he said. "You're a reasonable man. You're loyal and intelligent and kind. Why would you betray everyone like this?"
It was flattering, I guess, that he thought so highly of me, despite what I'd done to him and was still planning to do in the near future.
"Betrayal only depends on your point of view, doesn't it?" I asked.
His brow furrowed. "Then what is your point of view, Obi-Wan?"
"You won't believe me," I said, leaning in towards him. "But Master Kenobi, I am trying to save the Jedi."
---
That's not where the story starts.
The story starts a lot earlier on a small trash-covered world on the Outer Rim called Lotho Minor. I'd never heard of it before a witch's Dark talisman had led me there. Even feeling the Force twine tightly around it as I approached, I had a hard time believing that anyone would end up on such a hellhole planet, much less stay there for any amount of time, though I suppose that hadn't been a choice. It wasn't my place to say how the Nightsisters' Dark magic worked, and wasn't as if Lotho Minor had a lot of functioning ships to go around.
It was obvious even from atmosphere that Lotho Minor was not a beautiful planet. Its entire surface was mottled gray and brown, covered over with refuse from other systems--the natural result of interstellar transport being simpler and cheaper than efficient recycling measures. Clouds of steam wafted off of the mountains of trash, either from the planet's natural heat or from bacterial decomposition. I landed my ship on the most stable-looking pile I could find and it creaked and cracked precariously under the weight. It didn't inspire a lot of confidence.
I stepped out of the ship, and even with a respirator the smell was revolting. From where I stood, the steam rising from the unpleasantly warm mountains of trash became endless fog that made it hard to see further than maybe a hundred meters and the sky was stained deep red from all the atmospheric contaminants. The very ground had an unsettling texture from the mix of broken droids and discarded electronics and rotting clothes and food, squelching under my boots on one step and crunching under the next. None of it felt very stable, and I could hear the low rumbling sound of piles shifting and resettling in the distance. I didn't like to think what could be hidden in these enormous mounds--they almost certainly didn't bother to sort their sharps or biohazards in a place like this. Not a safe place, indeed.
I ventured out, following the witch's talisman as its Force pressed against my mind and tugged me forwards. It was not a comfortable sensation--it felt almost like a compulsion and a malicious one at that, trying to claw into my psyche. It had been uncomfortable before, when I had reached orbit, but it was much stronger now that I was planetside, like an invasive weed putting roots through the back of my mind. It felt like obsession, as much of the Dark Side did, and it tried to push me faster and into recklessness.
I breathed deep and took hold of the feeling, then with a practiced hand, excised it. I was not a Master of anything, of the Force or the Light or the Dark, but only I controlled myself and I'd gone through too many of my own angers and obsessions to let someone else's undo me. I was here because I wanted to be, and I would go where I needed to in my own time.
Slowly and carefully, I descended the mountain, watching out for jagged edges and uneven footing all the while. The talisman led me through to a cave which appeared to be the hull of an ancient starship, corroded by chemical waste and partially collapsed from the weight of all the refuse piled on top of it. It was easier to navigate inside than outside--at least the floor was less likely to fall apart beneath me--but there was something supremely creepy about a dead dark rotting starship with all the systems down. Like walking through a towering corpse.
I lit a glow stick and held it out. Small device casings were littered everywhere, shucked for any valuable components and discarded. There were dark streaks across the floors, which I could only assume was blood or other body fluids, and heavy scrapes and scratches across the metalwork like from enormous claws. A few parts of the corridors looked like they had been haphazardly slashed with a lightsaber--out of anger or frustration, if I had to guess.
Even without the talisman, I felt I was close. The Force grew colder with the Dark Side the further I went, flowing slowly and thickly like sludge. It clung to me as I ventured deeper, like hands trying to drag me down into a deep dark hole where I couldn't escape. Someone had hurt here, very badly and for a very long time. I didn't like to think about the implications.
I followed the tracks back to what may have once been the ship's command center. Through the door, there was a muffled humming sound of a working generator. The door jammed slightly when I pushed, and I had to lever my mechanical hand against the frame to get it open. The inside reeked of death.
The first thing I noticed was a jury-rigged broadcasting box sitting on what used to be the data terminal dashboard. It was pretty big, large enough that I wouldn't be able to get both arms around it, and it seemed powerful, like the long-distance transmitters used for distress signals. Chances were, that was its intended purpose, though it wasn't currently operational--my ship would have received the transmission.
The second thing I noticed were the piles of discarded food containers and small animal bones and rotting skins littered across the floor. It seemed that even on a planet that consisted of only refuse, there was still a little sustenance to be found, whether it was refused packaged foods or vermin. Having scavenged for food in much the same way in the past, I could sympathize, though even I would balk at having to survive on it for as long as the size of the piles implied.
The third thing I noticed was the body.
It lay in the corner of the room, a Zabrak with red skin and black tattoos that were stark even under the dim light. It was sprawled on a mass of twisted metal, and it was only when I stepped closer that I realized the body was missing a bottom half.
"Oh, Maul," I murmured. "What happened to you?"
Maul remained senseless as I approached him. He was breathing shallowly and I could still feel the Force moving within him, so he was alive, though not by much. Closer inspection revealed the pile of metal was not droid refuse as I had suspected, but an actual cybernetic prosthesis, a grotesque one with too many limbs. It seemed to have been grafted directly to Maul's abdomen, without even a proper neural port or other surgical mount.
I grimaced. My experience with cybernetics was limited to what was necessary for my mechanical hand, but it didn't take an expert to realize that a bad surgery and a non-matched species prosthesis made for a very bad time.
I took it apart. I didn't really have a choice--Maul was clearly in no state to move himself and there was no way to carry both Maul and his enormous arachnid lower half all the way back to my ship. He could get a new prosthesis--a proper one--after we got off this hellish planet.
I was careful, but there's only so much you can do with a prosthesis that isn't designed for removal and I felt Maul's Force curling in pain as I used my multi-tool to cut connections and pry away layers of metal. It took maybe an hour to strip everything down to the crude socket, an ugly thing like a ragged and open wound in durasteel alloy. Looking at it directly, it was obvious that Maul had not had the luxury of a proper cybernetic technician, nor of any sort of post-op care. The socket was badly fitted, chafing against inflamed scar tissue all around his abdomen, and the prosthesis itself didn't look like it had been serviced once in the last decade. Maul's entire experience with cybernetics must have been excruciating.
I pulled my cloak off to make a sling for carrying Maul back to the ship, and it was in the middle of easing him into it when his eyes snapped open, the Force around him swirling like tongues of fire.
His red-and-gold gaze directly met mine and his lips curled back into a snarl. "Kenobi."
So at least he remembered me. They didn't seem like good memories.
I couldn't feel the Force the same way that Jedi did, but I didn't need that to feel the utter hatred spiraling out of him. I felt him lash out with the Force, whether trying to choke me or otherwise, and I tightened my grip on him.
"Maul," I said. "Calm down. I'm getting you off this planet."
Maul screamed something at me that sounded like a threat of bodily harm, which was pretty impressive considering his physical state.
I didn't have the time or energy to deal with it. I wanted to be off this planet as soon as possible, and the last thing I needed was Maul trying to strangle me on the way there. I pressed hard against Maul's diaphragm, driving the air out of him, and pushed my Force to my voice and said, "Sleep."
Maul flinched from the command, the scream dying in his throat.
"Sleep, Maul," I said, the Force vibrating through my words. It sank into him easily--he was too unbalanced or too unaware to keep it out. "You're safe now. I'm getting you out of here. Sleep."
Maul growled at me again, fighting it, but his eyes slipped closed as unconsciousness took him. When he was well and truly asleep, I secured him in the sling across my back. He was feverish and one of his horns dug uncomfortably into my shoulder, but he was so light that he was easy to carry--and not just because of the missing legs. He needed a lot of care, the professional kind. He needed it a long time ago.
"All right," I said, more to myself than to him. "Let's get off this dump."
---
I'm not a fan of hyperspace.
I'm not a fan of space travel in general, but hyperspace is the worst--it's a big reason why I settled down in Coruscant ten years ago with the intention of staying indefinitely. Hyperspace is empty and endless, and for someone like me who can feel the Force a little bit but not nearly enough, it's like staring straight into a black hole.
Dead and dark.
The only good thing about hyperspace was that it was dead time with nothing better to do, which meant I could finally sit down and think about what the hell was going on.
I had a lot of questions. I'm not unobservant--I can tell when things don't add up, and at the moment, a lot of things were not making sense. Least of all the half-a-Zabrak laying on the cabin bed, deep in Force-induced sleep.
Less than a tenday ago, I had killed Maul. I had shot him dead, a bullet through the heart, and held him until he breathed his last. Three days ago, I had arrived on his home planet of Dathomir and spoken to his family and buried him there according to his last wishes. His mother, the witch, wasn't happy about the situation, not that I expected her to be. She must have taken issue with Maul's death, because she did some kind of Dark magic on him, and maybe on me, though I don't know what--between the strength of the Dark Side on Dathomir and her magic, I blacked out pretty early on in the process.
When I awoke, she shoved a talisman into my hands and led me to a ship and told me to retrieve her son. I asked questions, obviously, but she wasn't in much of an answering mood. From what little she deigned to explain, Maul who was dead was no longer dead, and also on another planet several light years away, and this somehow made it my job to get him.
Fine, okay. I had killed Maul, so the least I could do was grab his resurrected self off whatever planet he'd landed on. I'm not the kind of scumbag who only cares about someone once they're dead, and I'm not the kind of idiot who tries to get on the bad side of a witch who's powerful enough to bring her son back to life, so of course I took the ship and the talisman and went. Magic could bring Maul back to life and resurrect him on a completely different planet than the one he'd been buried on? Sure, whatever. I didn't know a damn thing about magic, and as Master Jinn had once said a lifetime ago, through the Force all things were possible. I could suspend my disbelief long enough to check it out for myself.
I couldn't suspend my disbelief for this.
Maul--this Maul--was not the one I remembered. It wasn't just that he was missing his legs. It wasn't just that he was even more gaunt than the last time I had seen him.
It was that he had a cybernetic socket that looked like it was installed several years ago. It was that he had clearly lived in that alcove in that ancient starship for months, if not years.
The Maul lying on the bed beside me had no scar over his heart--not one where I had shot him dead, nor where Master Jinn had run him through with his lightsaber eleven years ago. I could believe that a magical resurrection might give him more injuries and scars, but to take them away? And not even all of his scars--only the one? That didn't make sense. It was too arbitrary.
This Maul was not my Maul. I could believe that. So why, then, had he recognized me? That didn't seem possible. I was missing something big. Until he awoke and answered some questions, I had no way to find out what.
I sighed and left the cabin. Maul would wake up in his own time, and I would feel it through the Force when he did. Hovering wouldn't help either of us.
I paced the ship slowly, Maul's lightstaff a heavy weight on my belt. That was another thing I couldn't reconcile, when to my knowledge his lightstaff had been stored in the Jedi Archive vaults eleven years ago after Master Jinn collected it from Naboo.
I didn't like to carry it--it's not right to carry a kyber crystal that isn't yours to begin with and the Force around this one was so volatile it was almost physically painful to touch. The crystal felt like it was weeping.
It made my heart hurt in a lot of ways. I hadn't ever seen a kyber crystal treated so cruelly--they were sacred to the Jedi and the Guardians of Jedha both, and respected as companions and for their connection to the Force. Kyber wasn't sentient the way a creature is, with discrete thoughts and feelings, but it was still alive in the Force, and it could hurt and care as much as anything else. For a Jedi, a chosen kyber crystal was practically an extension of the soul, and mutilating one this way was desecration of the worst sort, both to the Force and one's self.
I didn't know why Maul would do something like that--I asked the crystal, but my connection to the Force wasn't deep enough to understand anything from it except vague impressions of pain and blood. I suppose that was answer enough.
It would be nice to believe that Maul had been coerced into it all by his Sith Master and that he was really a decent person deep down, but chances were, that wasn't true. I already knew he was cruel. He had hurt himself and he had hurt others, and all things remaining equal, he would do it again.
Until I knew what was going on, until I knew it was safe, I would hold onto his lightstaff. I don't think Maul's kyber liked that very much, but it seemed to accept the necessity of it. It didn't like me much, either. I could respect that.
I went to the ship's kitchenette, not really out of a desire for food but just to keep moving. Hyperspace made me restless no matter the circumstances--a tendency that had greatly annoyed Jango in the years we had collaborated. Only now, I didn't have Jango to spar me to exhaustion. I was effectively alone in a two-cabin cruiser that was older than I was, whose previous owners were now assuredly dead by the Nightsisters' hands. I supposed I ought to be grateful it still worked at all.
It was a good thing I wasn't hungry, because the kitchenette had very little in the way of sustenance--mostly nutrient powder and other preserved foods which were edible enough, but whose taste, I had found out, had not improved over the years. Food was food, but I sincerely hoped that once we landed I could restock with something a bit more palatable.
Just then, the door slid open and the ship's astromech rolled in, a somewhat junky KY4 model that had gone through some hard times. Its chassis was a small box of about knee height with three omni wheels for movement and a wide-angle ocular sensor on top--an outdated style, but functional enough. I moved to the side so it could roll without tripping me, and it chirped to me in response. My Binary wasn't great, but I got the gist--that all systems were running steady. It was the third time in as many hours it had come to tell me so.
"Thank you, KY4. How much longer will we be in hyperspace?" I asked.
KY4 chirped that it would be about two more hours, then rushed to reassure me its navigation processors were completely functional and that there would be no problems with its calculated course. This was, again, something it had done multiple times over the course of transit.
"I believe you," I said. "Did you need anything else?"
KY4 chirped a negative and skittered off without waiting for a response.
I let it go. Droids might not have feelings the way a person did, but they tended to develop personalities if they went too long without refreshing their firmware, and for better or for worse, KY4 had been alone long enough to discover anxiety. Considering the fate of its previous owner, that was understandable. I didn't know much about dealing with skittish droids, or droids in general, but I'd give it space and maybe once it was used to me it wouldn't feel like it had to flee the moment it stopped talking. Chances were, it didn't know what to do with me under these strange new conditions. It would probably take a while before it felt like it was on level ground.
I guess that made two of us.
---
True to KY4's calculations, we dropped back to sublight just over two hours later. The two of us piloted the ship into low orbit over a small ocean moon known as Bantu IVb, the only inhabitable moon of six orbiting a gas giant in the Dothikan system on the Outer Rim. It was excessively obscure and there was very little notable about it except that I knew a medical professional lived there--Solis Greer, a Mandalorian Duros and acquaintance-slash-sort-of-family-member of Jango Fett. I knew about her because thirteen years ago, when Jango had picked me up with a crushed mechanical hand and a shoulder recently stabbed through with a lightsaber, he had brought me here for treatment.
It was a stretch to say that Solis and I were friends or even friendly--she had obviously known Jango well, but I was only ever her patient. Still, she was level-headed enough that I felt confident she wouldn't shoot me in the face before I could ask her to help Maul.
We held the ship in low orbit and I sent a transmission requesting landing clearance. Even on a planet without a spaceport, that was only polite.
The responding transmission arrived not ten minutes later, to the effect of "who the hell are you?" and also "where did you get those landing codes?", except in much coarser language. I guess Solis didn't remember me--it had been thirteen years, after all.
I responded that I was an old friend of Jango's, and that I had a patient in need of medical care. There was a little more back-and-forth, but about half an hour later she sent me a set of coordinates where I could land safely and said that she would meet me there. I thanked her and started the descent to the planet's surface.
It wasn't an easy landing--Bantu IVb had heavy winds and my ship was not designed for a single pilot with only one fully functioning hand, but between me and KY4, we made it down with only a minimum amount of damage. We landed on a rocky outcropping a few kilometers inland from the shore.
I stepped out onto the bluish shale, getting a feel for the slightly lower gravity, and breathed deep. The air smelled just like I remembered--damp and a bit metallic from dissolved mineral deposits. There were no trees on the island--or at all, if I remembered correctly--giving me a clear view of the moon's enormous oceans with gray hydroturbines and clumps of red algae floating in the distance. The skies were cloudless and tinted greenish-blue, with a large hazy orange crescent hanging a few hand-widths above the horizon--the gas giant this moon orbited. Despite the apparent barrenness, it was far from dead. I could feel the Force all around, flowing in slow currents from plant and animal life hidden just below the water's surface. It wasn't for me, but it was as good a place to live as any.
I felt eyes on me before I heard the footsteps. I turned to face them.
Solis stood ten paces back, in full armor with her blaster rifle aimed at my face. It was not, in short, the welcome I was hoping for. I held up my hands slowly.
Solis did not put the blaster down. "Why come here, Kenobi?" she asked in heavily accented Basic.
Okay. So maybe she did remember me, though everyone seemed unhappy about that lately. "Solis," I said. "I'm sorry for arriving without warning. There's a patient in the ship who needs medical care. You were the only medic I knew who could also do technician work. I have credits--I can pay." I didn't have too much, but it would be enough for this. "If you don't want me here, that's fine. Just tell me where I can go, and I'll leave."
"How do you know this place? Where do you know my name?" Solis demanded.
"I…what?" I asked. "Solis, you treated me, remember? Jango brought me here after I got stabbed with a lightsaber. You told me to get phrik plating for my hand."
This, if anything, made her angrier. "Do you hear words you're saying? Do you think I'm fool, jetii?"
My mind came to a screeching halt. "Jetii? Solis, I'm not a Jedi. I can't even use the Force. You knew my name; don't you remember me?"
"Only fool doesn't know your name. It's on all the HoloNet for the last year." I could hear the sneer in her voice. "High General Obi-Wan Kenobi."
That froze me.
That's a title I had never wanted to hear--one I never thought I would hear. I'd had my war on Melida/Daan and it had cost me my place with the Jedi Order, my hand, and the Force. That was enough war in a lifetime for anyone. Given the choice, I would never pick up that mantle of command again.
My mind whirled. Solis had recognized my face from the HoloNet, because I was apparently High General Obi-Wan Kenobi. A Jedi Master, maybe even a Councilor. That didn't make sense, but it was the start of a picture I could just about see the outlines of.
Solis didn't remember me from thirteen years ago because I hadn't come here thirteen years ago. Like Maul, this Solis was not my Solis.
Or, perhaps more accurately, I was not their Obi-Wan Kenobi.
The very idea of it was absurd. Not just that I could have somehow slipped from one reality to the next, but also that it could happen without my realizing it.
…But I had blacked out. The Force had taken me on Dathomir when the witch had done her magic, and she could have done anything then. Maybe even send me to another universe entirely.
I had a hard time believing it--anyone would--but it fit. It was why Maul was stranded on a distant trash planet for so long, bisected at the waist. It was why Solis would call me a Jedi when I had never told her about my connection to the Force or the Jedi Order.
The whine of a charging blaster coil shook me out of my thoughts.
"No words to say, jetii?" Solis asked.
"I--Solis…" I trailed off weakly. I didn't know how to play this. I didn't have enough information. "Solis, I don't know how to prove this to you, but I am not a High General." Just saying the title made me feel sick. "I'm not a Jedi."
"Playing no-memory now?"
"No, that's not--that's not what I meant. I mean, I'm not the Obi-Wan you know. I'm not a Jedi, Master or otherwise--I don't even have the Force. I'm a private detective on Coruscant and have been for the last ten years. I have my license in my pocket if you want to see it."
Solis tilted her head to one side. I couldn't see her expression under her helmet, but she seemed willing to humor me. "Give it," she said.
I tossed my wallet to her. She caught it with one hand and flipped it open, all while keeping the rifle aimed at me. She looked over my license, then went on to my other ID cards, which was frankly rude. When she seemed satisfied with what she saw, she closed it and tucked it into a pouch on her belt.
"Uh," I said.
"You get it back when I think I trust you. You say you know Jango?"
"I lived with him for two years. We worked together on jobs."
"Jango Fett works with no people," Solis said, then switching to Mando'a, "He certainly did not work with a beansprout like you."
"Don't call me a beansprout until you've fought me," I said, switching languages myself. "I've sparred Jango with or without weapons and won. I could do the same with you."
She paused. "You've got his accent."
"I should think so--he taught me the language," I replied. "He taught me a lot about fighting, too, which I'll happily demonstrate sometime after my friend gets medical attention and when you don't have a blaster pointed at me."
She looked over to my ship, where KY4 was sitting at the base of the ramp, doing the droid version of pacing nervously. "What condition is the patient in?"
"He's stable, but it's pretty bad. It's best if you see him yourself."
Slowly, Solis lowered her blaster and gestured to the ship. "Fine. Show the way, Detective. This isn't over, though. You owe me an explanation--one that isn't full of shit."
I was pretty sure that in this particular case, even the correct and full explanation would sound full of shit. Still, I said, "I'll be happy to explain what's going on as soon as I know what's going on. You said you have a HoloNet connection?"
---
The first thing I did once we transported Maul back to Solis' infirmary and she kicked me out to do her work was lock myself into a fresher and make sure my body was still mine.
I looked at myself in a mirror, visually tracing my features--same gray eyes, same nose, same mouth, same beard. I went on to catalog the scars across my body, from Melida/Daan to the lightsaber scar through my right shoulder to that time I got shot pushing Bail out of the way of an assassin--scars that a hypothetical Jedi version of myself shouldn't have. Everything seemed accounted for.
My hair was still the same length, coming down to my mid-back with singed edges where it had been recently sliced by a lightsaber and my mechanical hand looked like it was supposed to--prosthetic halfway up my right forearm with phrik plating. It was the same simple but robust Jedha model with limited motion in the wrist I was supposed to have. A Jedi wouldn't have chosen a model like this--it wasn't flexible or sensitive enough for saberwork.
I let out a slow breath in relief. By all accounts, I was still me. I didn't know how it could be otherwise, considering my clothes had remained the same through the transition between worlds, but there was so much I didn't know about the situation. I had to be sure, that's all.
The second thing I did was use a borrowed datapad to search myself on the HoloNet. Doing so was…overwhelming.
It took no time at all to find that Jedi Master--a Master at thirty-five? What the actual hell?--Obi-Wan Kenobi was a highly-regarded diplomat known for his calm disposition and charisma who had resolved hundreds of cases of governmental unrest or other diplomatic affairs across the galaxy. Now, with the Clone Wars, he had become notorious for his strategic brilliance as a High General of the Republic army. He wasn't just at the head of the war. He was the face of it.
My stomach churned at the thought.
There were holos of me--of him--everywhere. Candid snapshots, publicity holos of him interacting with younglings and soldiers and senators, blurry holovids of him deflecting storms of blasterfire with his lightsaber--
It was too much. Just about everyone in the Republic must know his name and face, and that was absolutely horrifying.
I found myself staring at a short holovid of him at some kind of Senatorial event--it didn't matter which one. He was dressed up in traditional Jedi robes and tabards and his hair was cut short, cropped at the nape of the neck, and he talked with a distinct Coruscanti accent, the way I used to when I was younger. His face looked just like mine.
That could have been me. In another life, in this life, that would have been me. Not a Temple reject who left the Order after less than a year of padawanship, but a man who fulfilled his dreams of becoming a Jedi Knight. A man who never had to leave his family in the Temple or become permanently disabled in both body and spirit. A man who was respected for doing good across the galaxy.
A perfect Jedi, they called him. Serene, level-headed, and competent--not angry and impulsive like I had been. Not a failure like I had been.
I didn't want to see this. I accepted a long time ago that the Jedi life was not the life for me, but what was I supposed to do when I saw evidence to the contrary so starkly? Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi fit. The life fit him so well that there wasn't any other path he could walk. He devoted himself to the Force and to helping others because that's where he was meant to be.
What did that say about me?
I don't know how long I sat there, staring at that holovid, looping again and again. All I know is that when I came back to myself, I had my face in my hands and the datapad was somewhere on the floor, timed out to sleep mode. I shook myself roughly to snap out of it. Time and place. There was a time and place for those thoughts, and it wasn't now. Jedi Obi-Wan was a personal problem, and I would deal with it later.
Right now, there were more important things to find.
I reached the datapad off the floor and booted it up again to search recent events--surely, my failure to become a Jedi was not the only divergence from what I remembered.
Well, it didn't take long to find out two key points: First, the Battle of Geonosis was fifteen months ago, making it now almost an entire year later than when I had left my world, and second, the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic was still one Sheev Palpatine.
Sheev Palpatine. The Sith Lord.
---
"Solis."
Solis looked up from her data terminal in the infirmary. She wasn't wearing full armor anymore. She'd never explained that to me--maybe as a medical professional it was inconvenient, or the years in near-isolation since Galidraan had made it less important. She looked just as I remembered: purple scaled skin, red pupil-less eyes, thin face, no hair, and a cybernetic left arm with a hand that didn't match--I vaguely recalled she swapped out different hands for different types of work. She had the same strange ageless quality that most Duros seemed to have, and except for modifications to her arm, she hadn't changed at all in the last thirteen years.
"Detective," she said tonelessly in Mando'a. I guess I'd made a good enough showing that she assumed I was fluent--which I was. "What do you want?"
"Is there a test you can run to see how old I am?" I asked.
"Shouldn't you know that already?" she asked. "You know what year you were born. Surely basic arithmetic isn't beyond you."
"I want to make sure I didn't black out for an entire year." Most likely, I had traveled through time as well as across dimensions, but the idea that I possibly hadn't--that I had been in the grip of the Force for an entire year on Dathomir where the witch could have done anything to me--made me nervous. I had already meditated for a while and verified that the Force within me was all mine, but I wanted the extra reassurance.
"Is that a…common issue with you?" Solis asked.
"Nothing that drastic, but I've had episodes," I replied, which was a mild way of saying my soul occasionally, annoyingly, left my body. "Can you find out my age or not?"
Solis hummed. "Hypothetically, yes. There's no magic indicator in a human body that tells you the age of the germ cell, but I can make an estimate based on certain biomarkers and gene sequences." She glanced back at me. "I would need to take needle biopsies."
"That's fine," I said. "Can you do it now?"
"Impatient, aren't you?" she tutted. "You haven't even explained what's happened to you or your friend yet."
"I don't think you'll like the explanation, but I'll tell you what I know now, if you want."
Solis thought about it for a bit, then said, "Fine. Go change into a gown and sit. I need to finish something first."
I nodded and did as she asked. It was a quiet wait, and not too long--maybe only fifteen minutes. Solis finished what she was doing, then had me lay prostrate on a bed and hooked up a vitals monitor to my arm.
She paused before prepping my back. "That's a lot of scarring," she said. "Does it hurt?"
"No. They're from a long time ago."
"Okay." Solis wiped the area clean. "Do you need general anesthesia?" She asked as she set up the appropriate medical droid.
I shook my head.
"All right." She held up a small hypo. "This is a mild nerve disruptor--it's to suppress pain and make it so you'll stay still while the medical droid does its work. It'll last about ten minutes. If you don't want that, the droid can use mechanical restraint instead."
"I can't use most painkillers--I'm allergic to spice."
"This is a different class of drug. It's not a spice derivative."
"Injection is fine, then."
"Okay. You'll feel a pinch in the side of your neck." She jabbed me with the hypo. It did, in fact, pinch, and I could feel an uncomfortable pins-and-needles sensation move down through my body. She stepped back and disposed of the hypo, then took a seat in front of me. "Now we let the droid do its work and in the meantime, you can explain what the hell is going on."
Considering the circumstances of my arrival, she had been very generous. An explanation was the least of what I owed.
I gave her what I could. I told her about where and when I had come from, and about Dathomir's witch and retrieving Maul from Lotho Minor and finding what I'd found on the HoloNet. She let me say it all without interruption, though all told, the story wasn't very long--I had only been in this universe for about two days, of which large parts were spent in hyperspace. Even for me, that wasn't a lot of time to accomplish anything.
"You realize this all sounds insane," Solis said after a long pause.
"Sure, I do. I hardly believe it myself, and I'm the one it happened to, but it's my best guess for what's going on," I said. "I don't really know how to prove it to you."
The medical droid beeped, indicating it had finished its work, and Solis checked its console report. "All three samples are good. I'll have these processed and I can calculate your results after I deal with your friend." She put some bacta patches on my punctures, checked my vitals, and helped me sit up as the drug wore off. "Crazy as it is, Detective, I believe you."
"You do?" I asked, rubbing my lower back. It throbbed a little, but it wasn't bad. With the bacta, it would probably be better tomorrow.
Solis nodded and returned my clothes, turning away so I could put them on with some privacy. "You seem smart enough to come up with a more believable cover story if you were lying, but honestly if you ignore the ridiculousness of it, your explanation makes the most sense. I checked your IDs--they're all legit, except for the fact that they shouldn't exist. You have Jan'ika's landing codes and you speak with his accent."
Jan'ika. Cute. He would have strangled me if I ever called him that.
"And of course, there's your hand," Solis continued. "I'd know my own work anywhere--it would be a pretty big coincidence if anyone besides me designed that. You said I suggested the phrik plating?"
"For defense against lightsabers, yes," I said as I got dressed. "The good news is: it works. The bad news is: even if it can stop the blade from cutting, the heat still gets you. My port got seared pretty badly and I had to get a new hand." I straightened out my shirt and sat back down on the bed. "I'm decent."
Solis nodded. "Well, we already knew the heat would be a problem, but the phrik kept you alive, didn't it? That means it did its job." She handed me a glass of water. "This will help with the pain."
I accepted the glass and drank. It made me feel better, more because of the water than the medication in it--I couldn't remember the last time I'd had anything to drink. Back on the ship, probably.
Solis sat down. "So. You've traveled from one universe to the next. What are you planning to do now, Detective?"
That was the million-credit question.
This galaxy was at war, and had been for over a year, Separatist droids against Republic clones. It was even worse than I had imagined it could be--worlds burned out, millions of people dead, and there was no end in sight. That alone made me ill, but there was more to it than that.
Chancellor Palpatine, the single most powerful man in the Republic, was Maul's Sith Master. He had told me that back in my universe, and there was all the evidence that it was the same in this one--the man had risen to office in the same way, and operated the Republic in the same way, accumulating power towards some horrible end that I couldn't yet see.
And nobody knew. This universe had progressed a year further than mine and nobody knew that the poison was coming from the very top of the system, flowing down to everything underneath--the army, the Jedi, the Republic itself. The circumstances that had led to my discovery of this deceit simply didn't exist here.
A low voice in the back of my mind murmured that I didn't have to do anything with that. This wasn't my universe. This wasn't my business. My concern should be returning to my own world, perhaps with Maul in tow, and going back to Coruscant to my life as a private investigator. It would probably even be easy--the witch had sent me here, so she could very well bring me back.
But I couldn't do that. Palpatine was plotting for a genocide--the genocide of my people. It didn't matter that they weren't my Order or my family. They were the Jedi Order, and while I could never be one of them again, I couldn't let them die just because this universe wasn't mine. I couldn't let a war so great and terrible go on when I could reasonably find a way to end it.
That only left me one option. "I…think I have to end this war."
Solis, to her credit, didn't laugh. "Easy enough to say. How will you do that?"
"I don't know. I know who's behind it and I know what he wants--the end of the Republic and the Jedi Order, and a powerful apprentice to serve him." Maul had told me that much, back in my universe. "I can't let that happen."
"If your problem is one man, then remove the man," Solis said. "Jan'ika taught you how to do that, yes?"
I shook my head. "It's not that simple. This man's got support that runs deep and his pieces are already moving. He's had years to prepare. If I go straight for him without any preparation, he'll kill me and a lot of other people, too. I don't even know if killing him will stop his momentum. I…need to figure out what he's trying to do, first."
That was the crux of the problem.
Palpatine was not stupid--he had a plan, and he was putting it to work as we spoke. How did you destroy a Republic and a people and a culture? Orchestrating a war and forcing Jedi to serve at the head of it was all well and good for thinning the numbers, but it wasn't as if all Jedi could serve in a war, nor would every Jedi who fought in the war fall. A war would find the Order depleted and weary, but they would recover, and I couldn't imagine Palpatine being satisfied with that. Attrition wasn't enough. There had to be something more. Something decisive.
I thought about the Republic's army, the millions of men with Jango's face, commissioned to fight for the Jedi. Jango had hated the Jedi, yet he had agreed to help build an army to fight for them. The Jango I had known wouldn't have done that--he would have died before helping the Jedi who had destroyed his home and his people, so why had he agreed? Even beyond that, the Jedi Mind Healers had detected some kind of Darkness within Captain Rex's mind--was that coincidence or somehow part of this plot, too?
That was the problem--I simply didn't know enough. I knew the man behind it and I knew the end goal, but not the path between the two.
Back in my world, I had gathered evidence against Palpatine--fraud, corruption, and other unsavory deeds--and given them to Bail, who had the resources and the support to raise a political movement against him. I had informed the Jedi High Council of the Sith Lord in their midst. I had spoken to soldiers about the conspiracy that might be brewing from the moment they were commissioned. In my world, a world where the war had only started, that may have been enough.
In this world, with a war that had dragged on for so long and a Chancellor who had gained unprecedented power and influence and the time to place his agents everywhere he needed them to be, there was no way. He was too well-rooted to be taken down unless I uncovered all of his schemes one by one and burned them out beyond any hope of recovery. If I couldn't do at least that, nothing I did to Palpatine would matter, and people would die.
"If you want my opinion," Solis said after a long silence, "I think you will need help to pull this off. I don't know what man you're trying to hunt down--and I don't need you to tell me--but he sounds powerful."
"He is very powerful."
"Then you'll need to fight smart, and you'll need help. Even the strongest fighter can't be in more than one place at a time, and it sounds like you'll need to be in more than one place at a time."
I nodded. "Is that an offer, dear?"
Solis sighed and clasped her hands. "No. You're a friend of Jan'ika's, so I'll help you if you come here, but this fight is yours, and I have my own duties. You're not the only one who comes flying in needing medical treatment."
"I understand."
"I have no love for the jetiise," she continued. "I can't blame them for killing us the way they did--it is only appropriate that the strong survive and the weak perish, and if we did not want to be cut down we should have been stronger before challenging them--but their victory ushered in the end of the True Mandalorians. I can't forgive that."
I bowed my head. "I understand."
"But the jetiise are yours, so you fight for them. It's one thing to hunt and kill in battle, but another thing entirely to purge an entire people, their home and culture and younglings included. There's no honor in that. I wouldn't wish it on anyone." She folded her fist over her chest. "So fight, Detective Kenobi. If you think you can end this war and save your people, then do so. Destroy the man who threatens your family and make it so he can never hurt anyone again."
I folded my own fist over my chest, hardening my resolve for what had to be done. "I will. I'll learn his plans, I'll dismantle each one in turn, and when I've rooted out all his traps and contingencies…I will kill him."
#fic: race condition#most of the chapters aren't this long#I just had to make sure I established everything about the premise of race con in this one#anyways#back to my hole now to write the second half of this fucking long story
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As someone with sensitive and dry skin, this summer is only getting hotter and as someone who lives in a hot and humid country, I took my skin care to a new level for it to adapt to this environment! .ೃ࿐
Skin Type: Sensitive Skin (face) Dry and Sensitive Skin (body)
LONG READ AHEAD! 🍯🩰🧸🪡
୨⎯ MORNING ROUTINE ⎯୧(DURING BATH) 🛁🫧🌅
-Before anything else, I cleanse my skin with an anti bacterial soap.
↳Product that I used is a local antibacterial soap (Safe guard). You can use anything as long as it gets rid of the build up first.
-I use a body scrub only twice a week (Wednesday and Sunday) to get ride of the clogged dirt in my pores and remove the dead skin cells and product build up and overall just leaves your skin feeling fresh and clean and improve my skin texture.
↳Product that I used is Dr. Teal's Epsom Salt and Body Scrub/ Human Nature Volcanic Cooling Body Scrub
-I never forget my shower gel and I always love how affordable and gourmand this smell is!
↳Product that I used is Bath and Body Works Strawberry Pound Cake Moisturizing Body Wash
-Next up is lotion. As someone who has scars on my legs growing up from bites and battle scars (me tripping and falling and scarring my legs) it has hindered me. Hydration and proper knowledge with ingredients that can help scars fade is a must. I believe Niacinamide and Vit. C has great contribution with lightening those scars.↳Product that I used is Avon's Green Papaya and Calamansi Lotion/ Vaseline UV Extra Brightening Nourishing Niacinamide Lotion
-Can't forget about my fragrance. I alternate gourmand and flowery and powdery scents. I mostly use fragrance mists!
↳Product that I used is Fairytale by BnBW, JOY by BnBW, Marshmallow Pumpkin Latte by BnBW. I use a oil-based perfume its Cassiopeia and I love it so much!
୨⎯ MORNING ROUTINE ⎯୧(FACE SKIN CARE ROUTINE)
-I usually do not wash my face with cleanser but I only wash it with water. (Ik this is controversial but this has been my routine since I was still a teenager.)
-I use an ice cube that I froze over night to depuff my eyes (eyes only!)
-I apply my moisturizer. This moisturizer really hydrated my skin especially this summer. It has a lot ingredients that can help you with hydration and at the same time making your skin youthful and glowing! It is lightweight and just perfect for this summer!↳Product that I used is Beauty of Joseon Dynasty Cream
-I apply my sunscreen. Genuinely love this sunscreen, the only sunscreen that didn't make me breakout! Never ever forget sunscreen! ↳Product that I used is Biore UV Aqua Rich Watery Essence SPF50+ PA++++
-Next is my face mist/facial spray. Gotta keep the skin hydrated and fresh!
↳Product that I used is Evian Brumisateur Natural Mineral Water Facial Spray.
I always keep my morning routine simple since it's hot and humid here. I also bring with me a bottle of water and keep aware of what I eat and avoid eating foods that are oily and cause allergic reactions to my skin. ༉‧₊˚.
୨⎯ EVENING ROUTINE ⎯୧ (DURING BATH) 🛁🫧🌆
-Still the same from above! I just do not overdo my scrubbing part and keep my skin hydrated!
-୨⎯ EVENING ROUTINE ⎯୧(AFTER BATH/SKIN CARE FOR FACE)
-Double cleansing your skin is that it removes the make up/sunscreen as well as remove those dirt that has built up through out the day. It also helps with absorption of your serums and other moisturizing products.↳Product that I used is Banila Clean it Zero cleansing Balm and Senka Perfect whip for cleansing foam
-I cannot forget my serum! Gotta love how lightweight this is and how it brightened up my dark spots! It has 5% niacinamide and love how this niacinamide worked and saved my skin.↳Product that I used is Axis Y Dark Spot Correcting Glow Serum
-Another serum that I cannot gate keep is this local brand/product in my country! It's Cica Skin Repair Serum Soothing Gel from Ever Organics. You can find any alternative skin care serums/gels that has cica as I swear that this ingredient has helped me with my reddish spots and helped me stop my break out! I genuinely love love this product.
-For spot treatment, I use this only when I have breakouts (I rarely have breakouts nowadays, probably during period days only!)
↳Product that I used Face Republic Calming Spot Oint Gel (I only bought the sachet one)
I think it's essential for us to take care of our body, not just our skin. Our body is our temple and we must good care of it. It's never too late to start and take care of your body. Take care of yourself not to impress others but as a form of self love. I think we should remember and remind ourselves to love and appreciate ourselves. ₍ ᐢ.ˬ.ᐢ₎˚୨୧
I hope this post has reached all of you needing inspos or don't know where to begin. I'm still a growing account after all! But I'd like to share with you all what has helped me. Can't wait to have moots too! 🎀🩰🪡
#aesthetic#coquette#lana del rey#aesthetic coquette#aesthetic dollete#aesthetic fairycore#ethereal#aesthetic pearl#skin care essentials#skin concept#skin care#skincare#yesstyle#kbeauty#korean skin care#inspo#lifestyle#mood board#ldr#girl blogger#girl blogging#summer skin essential#summer skin care#skin care routine#kbeauty skin care#summer kbeauty#black swan#lizzy grant#lana del rey aesthetic#ultraviolence
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"Always" period pads - toxic as hell
After 15+ years of periods, I moved to a new country and decided to give the "Always" period sanitary pads a chance. I got the sensitive, soft, unscented ones — and hell began.
Within one day of using them, I was super itchy in my vagina. Now bear in mind I had never before in my life had vaginal itchiness. Pubic itchiness, occasionally, yes, even the odd vaginal itch now and then, but not during an entire period, practically every hour, and with a level of intensity that was driving me insane. I'd never had an infection there, nor a virus, I hadn't had sex, no way I had STDs. But it itched horribly and when I peed, the itchy area stung. And so I began worrying.
I read everything I could find on diseases, bacterial infections and viruses affecting the nether-lands, I looked down there with a mirror, tried to feel for blisters, checked the smell, analysed fluids and dryness... and I still couldn't find anything remotely abnormal other than the fact that it itched. At last my period ended and, two-three days later, so did the itchiness. Phew.
And then the next period began, and the next. It took a few tortuous periods filled with horrifying itchiness and burning down there for me to realise that the only thing I was doing differently to pre-stinging days was changing the brand of my period pads. I had bought two boxes of "Always" sensitive, soft skin pads. Two. (Note to self, when trying a new brand, only buy one box). I still had half about twelve pads left to get through.
Desperate, I looked online to see if the brand wasn't good, and here's the hell I found:
I've now stopped using Always pads and my symptoms have immediately improved. I've contacted the supermarket demanding explanations, doubt anything will happen, but still. I've also contacted my doctor to see if this can be reported, because I can't believe that with studies saying Always pads contain irritants and carcinogens, they're still being sold left and right.
Please, please, please, for the love of God DON'T BUY ALWAYS PADS. REPORT THEM. SPEAK TO ANY CONSUMER'S ASSOCIATION YOU'VE GOT IF THERE'S ANY (here there's none useful). Contact your representatives! DON'T LET A BIG COMPANY GET AWAY WITH MAKING WOMEN ILL ON PURPOSE.
#always#always brand#period pads#sanitary pads#always sanitary pads#always pads#women#women's health#period#menstruation#menstrual pads#health#women's well being#the guardian#news
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Friend or Foe?
Poly!Ghostface x Deaf/HoH & Mute GN!Reader
Word count: 1,929
This is a ficlet at best but I might continue it.
Warning: Being bullied is mentioned, comfort given, being alienated/treated differently occurs, jealousy happens, anxiety attacks, found family dynamic, and Scream-related typical violence is touched on. Nothing explicit is mentioned in detail.
You’ve been a part of the group for a long time, growing up in cozy Woodsboro since you moved there during elementary school. In the beginning, you were treated like an outcast. Little kids can be so rude in that regard. Especially since you didn’t know how to act around others yet, and they didn’t know how to accept someone new. Mean nicknames flew around the school and it was hard to not cave into yourself. It came as no surprise that the friend you managed to make back then was equally a misfit.
It started with Billy Loomis. Who, as expected, took no shit from anyone. Even standing up to a group of bullies that had cornered you on the playground one day. The others followed suit when entering middle school. The second one was Stu. Who, as anyone could tell by glances alone, seemed to not care how his ‘higher stance’ in society was supposed to dictate who he hung out with. Sure, he still flaunted his money when getting the newest toy on the market, but he always shared in the excitement. The others came as followed; Randy, Sydney, and Tatum. Randy because he too enjoyed scary things and was a tad awkward. Sydney and Tatum came as a pair, best pals that seemed to not mind hanging out with the growing group. And, over time, became an essential part of the odd set.
Your hearing and voice started going by the age of twelve after getting very sick. Bacterial meningitis they said. The doctors predicted that it would only become worse as time went on, especially when your parents couldn’t afford the expensive surgery, and they were right. By the age of seventeen, you couldn’t hear or remember what you even sounded like at all. Despite this, you had your close friends to lean on. They evolved with you, learning things alongside you. It was sweet of them, honestly. Who could have asked for better friends?
Out of the entire group, Billy learned the most sign language with you. You gathered it was due to him being your longest friend — your closest bud. Stu wasn’t far behind and neither was Randy. Although Randy struggled with remembering all the ‘vocabulary’. Often mixing signs up or accidentally forgetting a word. Sydney and Tatum only knew the basics but you didn’t hold it against them. They were often busy and, especially after Sydney’s mom was murdered, you didn’t want to make it a big thing. She needed time to recover and that was okay.
Maybe it was the lack of hearing and having to focus more on sight, smell, and touch, but it was easy to notice Billy and Stu’s growing attraction to Sydney and Tatum. Hell, even Randy couldn’t hide those lingering glances at Sydney, even when Billy swept her up. Jealousy nestled in your chest but you fanned it away. You had no place to stake claim to your best friend. It did, however, come as a surprise that Stu continued to be so close with you despite dating Tatum. It felt wrong sometimes. How his hands would linger and the looks he’d send your way. Yet, deep down, you clung to those moments — cherishing the little things. It was hard to feel normal when there was no one else like you at school.
Although the bullying had stopped back in elementary school, the looks never did. The rumors only spread faster and faster as everyone aged. If kids could be rude then teenagers can be absolute devils. You could no longer count on your hands the number of times someone mocked you from behind, out of your sight. How the jocks would yell at you, knowing full well you couldn’t hear them. How the teachers gave you pitying looks while lecturing class — going the extra mile to give you a bullet printed note style copy of the discussion or writing extra on the chalkboard.
You couldn’t go anywhere without someone thinking you needed a guide, some form of assistance. Life could not be like this for eternity. You knew that and your parents knew that. All this fuss about your safety and comfort was growing weary. Sometimes you didn’t mind it but most of the time you grew aggravated by it. No one wants to be treated like a child forever.
The fact Billy and Stu didn’t treat you as a baby to coddle was refreshing. Sure, they looked out for you when it called for it. Bitching out people who mocked and yelled at you. Preventing you from becoming roadkill when you forgot to double-check before crossing the road. Making life a little easier when they order drinks and food for you while out and about — never expecting the working staff to know sign language and writing it all out took too much time. Despite all that, they goofed around and treated you like any other equal.
So, when the killings started you couldn’t help but notice a shift in their demeanor. It was hard to place exactly what it was. Excitement? Nervousness? Sure, everyone seemed on edge and constantly shifting blame to who it could be. But there was this twinkle in their eye as if they had a secret — a plan. Although you didn’t want to assume anything, or perhaps you felt a sense of fear of being right, you couldn’t help but bring it up one night. You had just finished watching a horror movie at Stu’s place, one that you’ve probably seen a hundred times now, and grabbed Stu’s sleeve before he could get up to rewind the VHS.
With a tilted head and furrowed brows, the teen signed ‘What?’
You swallowed, trying to push down the steadily growing anxiety while letting his sleeve go. ‘I want to ask a question,’ You start before looking to Billy so he knows this is directed to him too. The burnet motions for you to continue with an air of ease. You bit into your lower lips while lifting your hands again, the motion bowing and drooping with a slowness you don’t normally use. As if to exaggerate just how uncertain you are. ‘You both have something to do with the murders?’ It was meant to be a question but even you knew your expression didn't come off that way.
They both look at one another, lips moving. They don’t normally talk like this around you. Always going out of their way to include you in the loop. Seeing this display of… well, secrecy made you further uneasy. You stood up, leaving Stu on the sofa, and put your back to the tv still rolling the credits.
‘Wait, wait —’ you fan your hands, catching their gaze again. Successfully breaking the heated discussion. Billy’s eyes felt colder, distant, as they land on you. While Stu seemed fidgety, leg jittering to an unsteady beat. ‘You’re shitting me, right?’ You pause, hoping they would say something — anything. It never came. ‘Holy shit.’ Your hands stall before combing fingers through your hair. They weren’t denying the accusation. They weren’t doing anything but sitting there.
That was an answer all on its own.
You started to pace. Killers… my best friends are killers. They killed people — Casey and Steve. They killed someone they knew! Someone Stu dated! The thoughts kept coming in waves, building up the dread and fear with each new moment of clarity. You didn’t know how to handle this and started to berate yourself for even bringing it up — knowledge is key but ignorance was bliss. Then a hand landed on your shoulder and you about fell over, breathing uneven and eyes wide.
‘Calm down,’ Stu motioned to the sofa, now empty. ‘Sit. We’re not going to hurt you.’
It could be a lie, you immediately think but did as told. Billy was gone from the chair he once preoccupied and your gaze shifted around the room, but instantly fell on Stu as he crouched down in front of you. Although you wanted to jerk your hands away you didn’t as he took them in his own. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles as he exaggerated the action of breathing. In. Out. In. Out. The exhale was long and slow as you mimicked him.
Billy’s leg came into sight and your gaze redirected upward, taking him in as he held out a bottle of water and wash rag. You didn’t know what the latter was for until he started to dab at your neck. The coolness offered another solid thing to concentrate on. The bottle had been sealed, you consciously noticed, as you twist it off and down more than half of its contents.
After a few solid minutes passed you rubbed your chest, ‘Sorry.’
Stu instantly shook his head with a small smile on his lips. It didn’t suit him well. He was meant to be grinning, joking, nudging you, and dishing out all the antics.
This Stu looked sad.
Billy gently took the bottle and placed it on the end table before sitting down next to you. This was your closest, longest friend and yet you had to stop the urge from scooting away as his thigh touched yours.
‘You are right,’ Stu signed in a much slower way than he usually did. ‘But,’ he drew his fingers out long and wide, ‘We didn’t want… didn’t plan…’ he struggled to find the right word before his lips moved in what you predict to be a curse word, frustration building up on his face and how his shoulder grew taunt. You waited patiently for him to continue — not wanting to interrupt or cause further aggravation. ‘You are not involved, okay?’
Billy's finger fanned on the outskirts of your sight and you turned to face him. He quickly signed what Stu was trying to get across. ‘We don’t want to hurt you. Not the plan. You finding out, not the plan. But,’ You watched as his gaze turned to Stu's and so did yours. You caught the other nodding to the silent question. Turning back to Billy, he continued. ‘Now you know and we… we have to think on what comes next.’
Your brows furrowed as you copied the last sign, ‘Next?’ What did they mean by that? Are you now on their killing list? Was this it? Another anxiety attack was building. You could feel it in your muscles — your chest. Am I going to have to fight my friends for my life?
Billy took notice and gently grabbed your shoulder. Your wide eyes fell on him as your body jolted. Fight or flight, it didn’t matter. You were already cornered. If they wanted to kill you, Billy could easily drive a knife right into you at this very moment. A part of you envisioned how that would feel. The sharp pain, the wetness. With shaky hands you asked the heaviest question on your mind, ‘You planning to kill me?’
‘That is up to you,’ Billy answered truthfully, still calm.
Your index finger hit your chest a little harder than you wanted, ‘Me?’
Stu must have stood at some point because he was now walking into your frame of sight, taking up post behind Billy. With a casual sense of ease, his arm draped over Billy as he signed yes followed by pointing right at you.
Me… up to me…
‘What do I have to do?’
Billy’s lips quirked into a familiar grin. Although it now held a sense of eerieness to it. ‘You are with us or against us. What will it be?’
#poly!ghostface x gn!reader#poly!ghostface x reader#(my first ghostface ficlet - how did I do?)#scream (1996)#scream fanfic#lost in a story
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D.N.A
cw: alien bros, magical girl reader, poly (ingo/reader, emmet/reader), fighting physically with Aliens, alien biology being creepy, implied fem reader, probably unhealthy relationship
pairings: Ingo/Reader, Emmet/Reader
When the meteorite crashed near your camping site, you should have been hesitant and afraid. It was a burning hot piece of something from space with who knows what on it. Still, you crept out of your tent in the dewy, chilled morning to approach the crash. Smoke whisped from where the pale, pours stone had buried itself. The grass around was singed, with a smell of fire heavy around. Stupidity, you dared to reach a hand down to the rock. It wasn't as hot as you anticipated, but a sharp edge dug into your finger and cut it open. Hissing, you retracted your finger. Crimson oozed from the wound and caused you to sigh. You needed to get back to civilization for bandages and ointment.
Packing up your tent, you left the meteorite behind.
Perhaps, had you listened to the news about how it was taken away by certain entities of higher powers, you would have felt concern.
Instead, you found yourself in and out of consciousness for a few days with a fever and head cold. It was painful, but a doctor sighed and said it did not seem to be a bacterial infection. All you could do was take certain over the counter medications and hope it passed quickly.
It did not.
Well, the terrible, bedridden half did, but remaining symptoms of discomfort never left you be. Headaches became common, alongside cramps in your stomach that just seemed out of place, but nothing overly scary or of note. Co-workers at your retail job often expressed concern and worry, but managers expected you to just pull through it all. You had to because your pay was of utmost importance in keeping yourself alive. Eventually, you grew to just ignore the symptoms. Your body moved past the infection after what must have been two months of it. Around three months in, a forgotten sunburn peeled off you, and it seemed to be completely over.
It was then rumours about a new disease began to whispered around. Apparently, it was breaking out around the world and had countless people terrified. You wondered about it, but felt concerned about whether it was whatever affliction had overcome you. It seemed unlikely, yet the worry remained in your mind. Another change in your life came from the strange subway managers you seemed to always encounter.
They were odd men, tall and lanky, while having just apparently appeared one day ready for the position. Identical twins, they often chatted with you about many things. The older of the two, Ingo, refused to go a single trip without greeting you. The younger, Emmet, regularly helped guide you through the station. You found them a bit strange, but supposed you did not necessarily mind their company. They left you alone when you left the station, so everything was alright.
Until you found yourself in a situation. A day out with friends in an amusement park led to horror and torment as these two aliens appeared to attack the people. In that moment, as you heard the screams and cries of the others around you, something awoken within you. Your form shifted into something else, power growing, and those around you suffering from injuries or some indication of a disease were healed instantly. This quickly caught the attention of the aliens. Both immediately tried to apprehend you, but you were quick to dodge and attack them. They were stunned at your capabilities. By the time authorities arrived, they had already disappeared.
Your transformation faded, and you found yourself in a new position. A lowly retail employee within the big city of Nimbasa now charged with the task of defending your planet from those invaders. It was soon after that you encountered them more often. Wherever they appeared, you stalked after to halt the damage they were doing, alongside attempting to completely stop them. A few times you had ended up face to face with one of them. The one in white often cooed in your face about what good attempts you give, but it was simply impossible to stop their invasion. Conversely, the one is black demanded that you stop this fruitless rebellion and accept everything for what it would be.
Fights always ended in a tie, with all of you scuttling from the scenes to who knows where. You pondered just where the aliens went, but the obvious assumption was back to space and away from earth. However, the chance that the hid in plain sight with the humans haunted you. Disguising themselves and pretending to be a normal person, yet wanting to end earth at any given chance. You shuddered at the thought.
A battle in the rural parts of Unova left you with your arms bound by the one in white's tentacles. He observed you with silver irises laid on an inky sclera. Your abilities were seemingly resisted as he got closer. “Our verrrry cute opponent is so weak,” he cooed, “I wonder if you could aid us in our invasion? One of you already did, heehee.” His giggle made you uncomfortable. Someone already had? Who? You hated them immensely. Just as he got too close to you, a hit to the crystalline piece in the centre of his body left him unconscious. In primal rage, the other alien came to attack you without any hesitation. His usual frown, accompanied by bunched brows and a growl. The tentacles hurt as they grasped and hit you. One latched around your wrist and constricted tightly.
You quickly used your powers to repel him before running off. Dark bruises bloomed on the places where the tentacles hurt you. In tears, you finally realised just how serious they are. Even if you defeated one, the other would soon be on you with an anger that would certainly be the end of you. You cried as you held your jacket to obscure your injuries and got on the train back home. It was there you saw Ingo sitting on the train with his brother asleep next to him. You gazed at him carefully. The gentle sway of movement left you curious. “Hey… Ingo,” you called out. His attention snapped to you.
“Hello there,” he responded, “You're quite far from home, aren't you?” You laughed and shook your head. “Decided to do a hike,” was a simple reply and lie, “Hate it, though. I walk enough getting around in Nimbasa. I missed my train the other morning and had to walk to work, I hated it. What about you?” Ingo sighed and pulled the brim of his hat over his eyes. “Emmet wanted to meet his friend Elesa while she was out with her own friend,” a sigh came from him, “I must admit it was quite an unenjoyable experience. Someone came up and knocked him out. I tried to apprehend them, but they ran away.” You froze. That sounded too close to… No, that was impossible.
Ingo could not be… one of them.
“… Is that so?” you swallowed, “Will he be alright? I heard those aliens and hero were fighting nearby, too. I'm so mad I missed it!” Another lie. You were both lying. Ingo could not be, you truly wanted to believe. He was always so polite and kind to you, but he did just appear one day. Was his interest in you the fact he knew? Were you currently in danger? “He will be just fine,” Ingo's eyes felt like they saw through your entire soul, “I heard, too. It is quite unfortunate. The idea of an invasion is terrifying, but if it's inevitable, perhaps it is best to just let it happen.” Your shoulders felt stiff.
A lie.
You needed another lie.
Maybe a new plan of attack.
A much more personal plan.
“Ingo… Are you free this coming Tuesday?” you asked, “I have the day off and have been meaning to spend more time with you outside of our small interactions.”
He smiled softly.
You would fix this.
----------
A relationship was a pleasant thing for most people. Happy times spent with a loved one that would always overcome many hardships. You would admit that you hated how much you loved them. Emmet yawned as he stepped out into the kitchen from the bedroom. His hair was ruffled, and his simple preference for just wearing underwear left the crystalline gem in the centre of his chest heavy in your mind. They truly were the aliens that were attempting to take over your planet, but they had a strange fondness for you that almost seemed out of character for them.
Ingo had eagerly agreed to meet you, and your relationships with the twins quickly bloomed into a close friendship and settled as their shared lover. They were persistent on getting you to move in with them and keeping you close to them, which you presume was due to the fact that you were so graciously gifted with the knowledge that they were aliens. Emmet pulled out a chair and sat down at the table. It was getting closer to the evening, and he had work in a few hours. He was set to leave around the time Ingo would be getting off, actually. He had taken on night-shifts as of late. You chose not to ponder it too much. They had no time to engage in their invasion plans like this, anyway.
You hated that you could not detest them as much as when you did not know them. Ingo went from this cruel, stoic monster to a loving, kind man. Emmet moved from a sadistic, playful creature into a sweet, goofy guy. A plate of food was placed before him as you sat across to join him. You loved them. That was an issue. Their confession of being aliens came shortly into your relationship. Emmet had cupped your face and cooed that you were in love with the 'evil aliens' that wanted your planet. Tentacles spread from his back, while his sclera darkened. His gem gleamed brightly. Your safety was assured. As their mate, you had nothing to worry about. As their nemesis, however…
“Everyone is wondering when the aliens will appear again,” you started a conversation, “Should I call a news outlet and tell them you are busy with work at the Gear Station?” Emmet chuckled at your words before beginning to eat the food you had prepared. His pickiness was hard to overcome. Especially when compared to Ingo, who would seemingly eat anything. “We're going to soon, actually,” he cooed, “I hate working like this. I want to be with you, and I want some time with Ingo, too! We need to talk.” You knew the contents of their conversation would likely revolve around their next attack. For now, you would monitor the situation as innocuously as you could.
Ingo laid beside you in bed while you listened to the strange pulsing and humming of his gem. What were they? Their bodies were naturally inhuman, but they still had features that left you confused. This gem could render them unconscious if hit too hard. The feeling of knowing you likely nearly killed Emmet pained you greatly. You wished that you could live peacefully with them rather than have to banish them from your planet. His hands gently combed through your hair as you remained close to him. Tentacles pressed your body to his in an embrace. Fighting against them while also playing along as their lover was a dark thing, you knew. It hurt.
You just wanted to be with them.
Maybe in some turn of events, they will stop their invasion because you showed them that humans had reasons to live and try to come to some sort of agreement with your species.
Of course not.
Idyllic thoughts could only remain in dreams.
In your transformed state, you stared down him. Neither Ingo, nor Emmet, but rather a fusion of the two. A stroke of luck on your part had you push one of them into a corner, while the other was distracted. It would have been an easy thing to attack the expose gem and leave him gone from this world, but your mind would not let you. Ingo stared at you with eyes you had learnt meant he was afraid. He was terrified, fully aware that his death could shortly follow. You made a purposeful mistake. Never would you harm him or Emmet again. The twins silently had a conversation with one another while eyeing you down. Their bodies shifted into something indescribable, before merging into one entity. An entity whose tentacle wrung around your neck. You scratched at it desperately, trying to free yourself from the attack. Tears poured from your eyes.
He was much more powerful than either twin alone.
Ever since he had appeared, your transformation felt weaker and harder to maintain. It was slipping away from you alongside your consciousness.
Revealing yourself to them was extremely dangerous, but you feared for your life. They were ignorant that you were their lover, thinking that you were still the human who thought they could stop their plans.
You let it go.
The fusion cried out and immediately released you. Your body was cocooned in numerous tentacles as he held you close to him. Healing energies came into your body and reverse any damage that you had sustained, leaving you alive and healthy once more. “My love,” he sobbed, “Oh, my love… I am a fool. Darling, I am so verrry, sorry. I've hurt you! I hurt you -” His breaths became rapid. Your exhausted mind could not hold on any longer. You passed out in his arms.
Waking up, warm blankets covered you. The scent of food wafted through the apartment pleasantly. Had it all just been a nightmare? Getting up, you left the dimmed bedroom into the living area of the home. He stood in the kitchen, humming while watching eggs sizzle in the pan. His tentacle spread from his back to pull out a chair for you without ever even bothering to look over. Was it Emmet or Ingo? You were unsure. The eggs were plated alongside some other breakfast food while he sat across from you. His alien form was out, clearly unconcerned with the idea that anyone would enter. He leaned across the table to press a soft kiss to your forehead.
“Do you feel alright? I healed you to the best of my ability,” he spoke with a tone and pitch you knew was not either of your lovers apart, “I am Emin, dear. I know that question is on your mind. You must also feel strangely weak, too. When I separate, you will feel better again.” You tilted your head at him. It was not a dream then. Emin was the name of them both as one person, it seemed. He appeared as both of them, yet neither of them. You nodded and carefully tried to eat some food. “The Emmet part of me wanted to tie you up as punishment for lying to them, but the Ingo part wanted to speak with you,” Emin gently explained, “I forgive you, darling. You simply wanted to protect your people, and that's fine. But, you're not perfectly human any more.”
You gazed at him strangely. What did he mean? “You incubated my cells in your body when you touched the meteor,” he continued, “I made changes to you as thanks! A longer lifespan and reproductive period, better memory and immune system. I spent months just inside your body, learning about the human existence. When we entered through your bloodstream, you truly saved us.” A tightness choked your stomach. What? They what? When did you -
The meteorite.
You touched the meteorite and cut your finger.
“… You incubated inside me?” you asked unsteadily, unsure of how to handle such peculiar knowledge.
“We act like a virus,” Emin nodded, “We took your cells and made them our own. Nothing important, I assure you! You are our saviour; we adore you. When we took off from our dying home planet with the hopes that we would land on a planet that would be able to sustain us, we failed to account for our bodies stability. Slowly, one by one, our cells died. We were down to only a few when you touched the meteor."
You saved them.
You were the reason they lived and grew into such the threat they did.
“Don't look so displeased, my dear,” he came to embrace you, “We planned to take you as our mate from the beginning and built these forms to compliment your tastes. To think you were granted such powers from our manipulation is amazing. You'll be a wonderful queen.”
You -
You -
You -
A sigh came from you as you embrace him back. Tentacles covered your body. Tender kisses were pressed into your hair. You gave into the affection. There was no reason to blame yourself. How were you to have known? It was simply impossible. Their power was still beyond your capabilities, especially with this new form. Your plan to woo them and convince them not to would likely never work, any way.
You pecked a loving kiss to his lips.
“I want to speak with Ingo and Emmet as normal, if that's okay,” you asked. He nodded and split apart into two. Both twins stared at you with curious eyes. Burying your face into Emmet's chest, you smiled.
Maybe, you could play their game.
Their own children opposing them and using your combined powers to stop them.
Yes, that seemed fine.
You could through yourself into a happy relationship and watch as they slowly wore down their fathers.
Emmet grinned as you ground your hips against him.
Hook, line and sinker.
#ingo x reader#emmet x reader#ingo/reader#emmet/reader#ingo x reader x emmet#ingo/reader/emmet#alien au
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Is it Safe For Dogs To Drink From Puddles?
From personal experience, there are two inevitabilities of dog ownership. The first is that, at some point, you will step out for a walk and forget to take water for your dog. The second is that your dog is always happy to stick its nose into the smelliest thing around. So you have a thirsty dog, and there is a murky, stinky puddle over there? Bingo, problem solved. Or is it? What are the health risks to your pet from drinking from puddles?
The bugs that lurk (in the puddle)
Surely the worst that can happen from picking a bug up from a puddle is an upset tummy? Well, possibly. But given the most likely cause of this upset tummy is Giardia, and it is one of the most common causes of acute gastroenteritis in humans and animals. Apart from being very unpleasant for your pet (and for you cleaning up), Giardia can be quite difficult to treat. It is also not uncommon for a pet to have repeat bouts after they have recovered from the first one. Even worse, it is a zoonosis, which means it can potentially be transmitted from pets to their owners. Fortunately, it looks like this is rare in reality, which is a silver lining.
Then there is leptospirosis, also known as “Weils’s disease”.
That’s the one that your dog catches from rat urine, which can contaminate stagnant water. It is a serious bacterial infection that can cause liver and kidney failure. Dogs can contract it through contact with water contaminated by infected urine. It can be pretty tricky to diagnose and very difficult to treat. Worse still, it is also a zoonosis. However, pet to owner transmission is probably very rare, with people most commonly contracting it through swimming or water sports in contaminated water bodies. It should be mentioned that leptospirosis in dogs is uncommon in the UK; this may be due to vaccination (none of the affected dogs in one study was vaccinated) or underdiagnosis.
The new puddle-lurking nasty on the block is Angiostrongylus Vasorum, AKA Lungworm or French Heartworm.
Infections in pet dogs by this unpleasant parasite have become increasingly common in the UK over the last two decades, particularly in the South East and Wales. Lungworm can cause lung disease, bleeding problems and neurological disease. It was previously thought to be transmitted by dogs eating slugs and snails. More recently, evidence has suggested that gastropods shed the parasite in the environment, and dogs can be infected by drinking contaminated water.
And what about the toxins on your doorstep? A tale for all seasons.
Even that harmless-looking puddles around your home could be life-threatening. Ethylene glycol is a commonly used ingredient in antifreeze products used in cars. It can easily leak from parked vehicles to contaminate puddle water. It’s highly toxic to dogs and cats, and only a small amount needs to be ingested to be fatal as it causes kidney failure. It has a sweet smell which means it is readily licked by dogs. Every year, sadly, several dogs (and even more cats) die in the UK after ingestion of ethylene glycol. As an antifreeze product, this risk is higher during the winter months.
Then there is the danger of blue-green algae blooms caused by cyanobacteria. This natural phenomenon occurs most commonly during the summer months when the perfect conditions for explosive algal growth are most likely. The toxins produced by these blooms are dangerous to humans and dogs when ingested. Blue-green algae can often be visible by a blue-green foamy scum on the water’s surface. The local authority will put up prominent warning signs at times of high risk. It is imperative to keep your dog on the lead and out of the water when these signs are up. If your dog does somehow get into the water, it is recommended to take them directly to the vet for decontamination as toxic signs (tummy upset, tremors, wobbly gait, seizures) can start within an hour of exposure.
And then there is the bigger picture…
As with all issues environmental, the concern about environmental pollution is increasingly coming to the fore. Pesticides, herbicides to pharmaceutical residues and hormones, from agricultural, industrial and domestic use affect wildlife and the environment, and our understanding of how this happens is improving all the time. With that comes the realization that there is also a knock-on risk to our health and our pets. Yet still, the environmental levels of surprisingly few of these polluting substances are monitored. So exactly what, if anything, and how much of it ends up in your average puddle is unknown and, for this reason, drinking from puddles is generally not recommended.
My dog has been drinking from puddles for years, and she’s okay. What is the risk, really?
From reading this article, you would not be blamed for thinking that all puddles glowed fluorescent green and that it comes across as a bit alarmist. And you would be right. Most likely, a quick slurp from a puddle will do your pet no harm. Indeed, there is no need to contact your vet when your pet does so unless there are specific circumstances, like known blue-green algae risk or ethylene glycol exposure. What this article attempts to do is describe some of the potential harms of drinking from puddles. The trick is to take precautionary measures to minimize the risk, such as ensuring your pet is fully vaccinated and protected against lungworm if they insist on splashing through puddles. But the safest precaution of all is to always carry drinking water for your pet.
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Frankly, in this day and age, I feel ashamed to live in a world where people use fanfics as sex ed.
You can get pregnant if you had your period the day after fucking with no protection.
Yes you also can get pregnant if you do it on your period.
The copper IUD can be used as an emergency contraceptive. It is literally shoving a nuke up your pussy. I would recommend to anybody. (however having it put in does feel like shoving a nuke up your pussy too. But it’s probably not as bad as going through labor lmaooo.)
The pullout method sucks and you will get stds and accident children. Stop it and wrap up.
Your partner is a bitch and a liar if they say that using a condom doesn’t feel good. What also doesn’t feel good is gonorrhea and childbirth. So, pick and choose my friend.
No, being cummed in is not worth the STDs, UTIs and raising an ugly child. (Lets be real if you’re getting sex advice from fanfics,,, your kid gonna be ugly as shit and is gonna grow up to be a failure. Wrap it up)
People lie and cheat all the time. Get STD tested even if you think they are loyal.
Birth control is sexy. So is condoms. Use both to be ultra sexy.
Wash your sex toys. Idk what the fuck is wrong with y’all. Your genitals don’t produce antibacterial soap. Clean that shit. You will get a yeast infection or any other bacterial infection.
Speaking of sex toys, if you don’t clean your toys and expect your partner to use them, you’re crusty as hell. And frankly if your partner gets sick. No, poisoned by your biohazard dildos, you should be dragged to the middle of the town square and burned at the stake.
Losing your virginity should never hurt. Your boo just doesn’t care enough about you to get you wet. idk what else to say.
Your pussy shouldn’t be tight. That means you’re not aroused enough. Try ticking your clit or something.
People with dicks can also get yeast infections and UTIs.
Squirt is not pee. Pee stinks like pee. Squirt slightly smells like a vagina.
Not everyone is into the same kinks as you and you should always ask before introducing them to your partner.
Fucking someone with poor hygiene can increase your risk of infection.
#can you believe that a virgin is telling you this???#listen I was planning on doing it but I did all of my research first#because im not an idiot like some of y’all
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Conquest, Set Forth
Ginger Mycoba | Present Night
This drabble is preceded by The Starfish and the Flame and followed by Glass Among Murk, Part 1.
Alternia’s southern hemisphere: freezing as its top half melted. In a field of mostly dead grass, the world was quiet except for the chittering of a few night animals that faded away as a tall, armored troll rode a white horse - gray, if one wanted to be traditional about it - drew close to them.
Specifically, the pair drew close to what would, to most trolls, look like a ring of frostbitten mushrooms.
An irate voice with no visible speaker came from the circle of fungi as horse and rider came within a few feet of it.
“You’re late, Pestilence.”
“Oops.” Acknowledged Ginger, their tone carrying an amount of concern that might have been located with a strong magnifying glass.
The unbothered horseman patted their steed on his face as they dismounted and let him go off to graze on whatever he could find; being a supernatural creature, he could manage on what would be unpalatable to a normal animal.
It was nice to actually ride Dunny; when they were going around for their job it was a lot more efficient to travel by truck. He tended to gnaw on them for his enforced loneliness after long stretches unsummoned, but their ride tonight had put him in a better mood.
“You’re always late.”
“Maybe I won’t be next time.” Responded the hemoanon blithely.
“Maybe if you had a drop of respect in you, you wouldn’t be.”
“Big if true.” They replied, carefully stepping in the circle.
It was the same place - the same mushroom ring - but now it was darker, colder, and around the mushroom ring rose ancient thrones of dark wood. The place was illuminated by clumps of luminescent moss and fungi clinging to the dark trees that now sprung from the dry, cracked earth, but the shadows here were thicker. Watchful.
Alive.
Fae sat in the dozen-odd thrones, varied in form, but all unmistakably non-troll.
Ginger took their bloodline’s traditional seat - a diseased and withered stump of a once-great tree, the wood spongy beneath them - and plucked a Frappuccino from their sylladex.
The fae looked at it, shuffling in their seats, wings and antennae rustling. The sweet smell of it was a nice change from the faint odor of dead old wood, of decay that never progressed.
“Mortal drink, in our realm?” One said disdainfully. “You offend us.”
“Cool.” Said the armored troll, sticking a straw into the slightly melted vanilla beverage and starting to drink it despite not lowering their facial mask whatsoever. Magic was handy that way.
More muttering, but Ginger knew that a) there was nothing they could do b) most of them didn’t really care. It was a pretense, as most things were with fae.
The canine fae on the largest throne lounged placidly, but her many black and yellow eyes had a sharp gaze.
They rested on Ginger’s whitish blue eyes with their fractured pupils, which returned her attention evenly.
“Winter court, and Pestilence.” She said sharply. “Let us commune, for there is corruption in our lands.”
“Yes! The horror spawn.” Said the fae who had disdained Ginger’s Frappuccino, one that looked more like a giant cicada crossed with a troll than anything.
“We got a horrorterror problem?” Rumbled Ginger with amusement. “I haven’t gotten any imperial alerts. What’s the issue?”
“It is a subtle one, Pestilence…he may not realize what he is doing.” Said the canine fae, her long tail waving slowly back and forth. “For all things, there is a reaction.”
“For all things there is balance.” Murmured the rest of the fae in unison. “Winter to summer. Frost to flame. Disease to health.”
Ginger had a feeling they knew what this was about, but they weren’t going to help the others get there, even if it made the meeting longer.
“Every time he restores a place, this growthling, it is changed. Perhaps he doesn’t realize it…doesn’t understand he is causing the world to go out of turn, slowly but surely.”
“Bacterial mass?” Asked Ginger.
“Bacterial mass.” Confirmed the canine. “They are starting to overgrow, simply from the aura left behind. He thinks he has tidied up after himself, perhaps, but he doesn’t understand.”
That sounded likely to the hemoanon, what with how meticulous the guy was. If it was the guy they were thinking of, which they would bet several games of poker on.
“A pity…his signmate does. We have no issue with Zanzul Varzim. She wanders, ensuring there is no dangerous lasting impact to her presence. He meddles with the world. Just like his ancestor.”
The armored troll didn’t miss the trace of bitterness in the fae’s voice at the mention of some long-ago Varzim.
Sometimes being right sucked.
“What do you plan to do?” Asked the hemoanon.
All the fae looked at him.
“You are tasked with stopping him, Pestilence. You can neutralize the hybrid. We will provide assistance if necessary.”
“You want him dead already?” Stated the muscular troll, deadpan. “No negotiation?”
“You may try to talk him down.” The winter court noble conceded. “If he doesn’t acquiesce, he must be destroyed. We are all the cold diseases of power, all the frigid ends of trollkind, every careless winter death. There are enough of us. There need not be another. His works must not create a new strain.”
She looked at the others, who in turn nodded their heads at her.
“We will also settle for him being stripped of his powers.”
“You ever try to unmake a hybrid?” Asked Ginger, neutral and blunt. “Especially that type? I’d be causing mass molecular degradation. Safe disposal alone would be a daymare. I’d need the court’s full support.”
“You will have it, if it is truly necessary.” Responded the woman smoothly.
“I don’t know yet.” Said the horseman. “I’ll try to talk him down.”
“What makes you think you can reason with horror spawn?” Curiosity and amusement mingled in a different fae’s voice.
Ginger scratched an ear as they noisily tried to suck up the last of their Frappuccino through the straw. Minor teleportation magic: never leave hive without it.
“I have a funny feeling.”
They knew better than to explain that they were already acquainted with Thrixe Varzim.
“Do you have to make such an awful noise?” Hissed a fae who resembled a water beetle crossed with a horse. Maybe some kind of kelpie.
“It’s a good drink.” They said, deadpan as usual.
“You are disgusting.”
“I don’t think any of us have a ton of stones to throw from our glass hives.”
The fae looked confused, and the horseman knew it was not only because of their troll saying but because the winter court did not perceive themselves as at all disgusting.
Not that Ginger blamed them. They had always been this way, ever since their diseases and domains had existed.
Ginger knew they themself were disgusting by any troll’s standards, even if they only infected others by choice, not default.
Hence the armor. Hence the mask.
Sometimes they envied the fae their uncomprehending ignorance, their complete lack of care toward guarding others against what they were. They did not know shame. They did not care what fae from different courts thought of them, let alone trolls.
Not that Ginger was ashamed, really. It was easier this way.
“Any last words of warning for me?” They said, looking around the circle. “Tips? Tricks? Jokes? Limericks?”
The varied faces present looked at them with what was probably mild disdain. None of them were high enough castes of fae to really get troll humor.
Except the canine, who looked at him with amusement, if also mild frustration.
The shadows - conversely, the lowest order of sapient fae - swirled around her throne.
“Take this seriously, Pestilence.” She chided.
“I am so serious forever.” The hemoanon deadpanned in return.
“You have a flippant tongue your ancestor lacked. It may be torn out some night.” The words were soft, pleasant in tone even, but there was no doubt they were sincere.
“I’m young and fiery.” Said the hundred and thirty sweep-odd horseman. “Give me time.”
They put their empty drink cup in their sylladex. They weren’t one for littering, and doing so here could be deadly.
“Ciao for now.”
The hemoanon got up and stepped back into the mushroom ring, and regular Alternia was restored.
Except that a woman was waiting for them, a woman in blue and teal clothing.
Her eyes were black, except for her yellow pupils, and her dreadlocks were done up in a bun. She was shorter than Ginger’s seven foot bulk, but not by much.
“You know him.”
It wasn’t a question.
The hemoanon shrugged, and whistled for their steed. Dunny was good at coming quickly when he was called, and sure enough, trotted over in seconds. His lively, warm animal smell was reassuring after the deadness of the winter fae realm.
“I know lots of people, Cyvell.” Offered Ginger as they mounted the animal, who snorted at the disguised fae. It was true enough.
She eyed the horse, covered in sores and scars as his master was under their gray-blue armor.
“Do not let sentiment cloud your judgment, Pestilence.”
“When have I ever.” Deadpanned the hemoanon.
They raced off with a clatter of hooves, followed by the eyes of the fae until distance swallowed the pair up into the night.
#cloud writes#ginger mycoba#cyvell xranth#for those who do not know: pestilence as a horseman was originally interpreted as conquest#so it is still a title Ginger has#not that they'll be the one to tell you. they find it all pretentious#Thrixe somewhere making out with his boyfriend(s) utterly oblivious#harbinger
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There’s no wind in the hospital. Oh, there’s air alright, filtered and dry and lifeless, but no wind. No trace of anything remotely cool. Quiet too. Chatter from nurses, nails on a keyboard, monotone voices directing who to where. Monitors beeping, the breaths and gasps and murmurs of fitful sleep. Hot. Stifling. Sticky. Squishing two beds into a tiny room, a curtain which cannot cover a patient, provide privacy. Wires and tubes. And the food. Bland, spice less, controlled caloric intake, designed with diabetes in mind. Utterly miserable.
Always one angel per shift. Always someone who goes beyond while others, who have clearly never been patients or otherwise lack empathy, meander and mingle and sometimes, pester. Interrupted sleep. Unsatisfying sleep.
Are hospitals for healing, for sleep? Or are they amphitheaters for surgery? Vestibules for sickness? Infections and bacterial outbreaks. Blue. Beige. White. So much white. Thin, scratchy blankets. Thin, rubbery mattress. Starchy sheets. Everything squeaks.
The halls bleed into each other. There are signs everywhere, but everything looks the same. A labyrinth, a maze, an optical illusion. It doesn’t smell sterile. More stagnant. Not dust, but absence. Beds and chairs and equipment clog hallways, slow buildup of plaque. Joyless. Hushed voices. Muted. Too loud a sound could shatter, trigger avalanche. Too loud a sound is rude.
There is no wind in the hospital.
#personal#this has been sitting in the drafts for a few months#don't know what I planned for it but I'm going through all sorts of WIPs#wanted to post something to remind myself I used to post all sorts of writing#now I hoard everything for myself and my partner
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