#fighting off the laryngitis

[nicoscheer]

View from the afternoon, the hand movements fascinate me

Alex swinging his guitar like a baseball bat Minneapolis, 26th Aug. 2023, By followiller

[bunniekittiee]

The Loudest Silence

Based off of @heavenlymorals ‘s post that Bi-Han had an injury to his throat that caused the raspiness. I did some research on throat illnesses and for this one, I went with acute laryngitis. Also this isn’t proofread so ignore any errors! I suck at endings btw.

It was unknown how Bi-Han got ill as he hardly ever got sick, but he was suffering. He attempted to cover his illness and continue his regular activities, such as hard training and practicing his ability to withstand the cold of the Arctika. But at night, he ran a high fever and his body was wracked with coughs until he was coughing blood. His mother was worried, extremely worried. She stayed up many nights to help Bi-Han by giving him tea to sip on and rubbing his back. She made sure he slept elevated so his coughing would not persist as long.

However, his father was not happy that Bi-Han was sick. He blamed himself for not strengthening his immune system, and he encouraged Bi-Han to freeze the illness out. His mother thought otherwise, so they argued over the course of action. She wanted Bi-Han to rest and recover, he wanted him to continue training and get over his illness in the cryomancer way.

“He is going to be the Grandmaster one day. How can he be a leader if you coddle him?” His father spat as he lifted his hands up in irritation.

“It is not coddling if I’m taking care of him because he is ill. He’s coughing blood! He can barely stand up, let alone train.” She replied with her face twisted in irritation. “I will not let you push our son until he is severely ill. He needs to rest.”

They bickered while Bi-Han listened, his body fighting for him to stay in bed but his mind told him he needed to train. He needed to prove his father wrong. His father was always harder on Bi-Han than Kuai Liang and Tomas who did not have to prove themselves as much as Bi-Han had to.

That was the downside of being the first-born son.

And he resented his brothers like hell for it.

Kuai Liang snuck into Bi-Han’s room with soup, using his hands to keep it warm. “I brought you something to eat, brother.”

Bi-Han looked at him, unable to talk as his throat was inflamed shut. His vocal cords felt like they were being ripped out of him when he made an effort to speak. He shook his head when Kuai Liang came closer with the soup.

“Why not? Are you not hungry?” He asked.

Bi-Han sighed in frustration as he was unable to communicate why he didn’t want to eat. It wasn’t that he was not hungry, it felt like sandpaper going down his throat when he ate. It was painful and uncomfortable.

He tried to communicate with his eyes, but eventually gave up and grabbed something who write on next to him. His mother made sure he had something to write with as she understood he had a hard time telling his family what he needed.

Kuai Liang looked at the paper when Bi-Han held it up and nodded. “Oh, I see. I’m sorry brother. I’ll leave it in the kitchen for now. Is there anything else you might need?”

He shook his head once more and made the motion to shoo Kuai Liang out. His brother listened and closed the door behind him, making Bi-Han sigh again.

He felt like death. He was sure Death would claim him. He wanted to rip his own throat out. The overwhelming urge to sleep took over him, and he closed his eyes.

Groggily waking up, Bi-Han slung his legs over the edge of his bed. He still felt horrible, but he knew his father was right. He needed to try to freeze the sickness out somehow. As he began to get dressed, he felt lightheaded as the corners of his vision began to fuzz. He shook his head slightly. He could not be weak. He could not show weakness.

Despite how much as his body yearned for his bed, he had to make an effort to improve his health. So he trudged out of his room and quietly padded down the hall as he swallowed his built up saliva in his mouth. It hurt horribly when he did, but he could not help it.

“Bi-Han! What are you doing up?” Tomas asked him as he approached Bi-Han. He narrowed his eyes at Tomas and opened his mouth to say something but he could not get a sound out. His vocal cords throbbed, and he rubbed his throat. Glaring at Tomas, he pushed past time and tried to make his way outside.

That was, until Kuai Liang stopped him.

“What are you doing, brother? You need to be resting. Why are you going outside?” Kuai Liang questioned as he stood between Bi-Han and the door.

The eldest brother wanted to explode. Everyone was getting in his way. His brown eyes burned into Kuai Liang’s as he moved his brother to the side. He began to go outside into the snowy tundra while his brothers followed behind him.

“You cannot go outside! It will worsen your condition.” Liang said worriedly as he caught up next to Bi-Han. “Please go back inside.”

Ignoring his request, Bi-Han stepped through the snow as the icy winds burned his throat and nasal passages. His head hurt badly now.

Kuai Liang told Tomas to get their mother while he followed Bi-Han. “Please brother, we don’t want your illness to become worse.”

“Obey my orders.” Bi-Han guttural voice that had not been used for a week rang in the air. He regretted speaking as his throat felt like it was being scraped with sandpaper and a knife. Kuai Liang was taken aback a little bit from the sounds of Bi-Han’s voice. It sounded painful. Bi-Han clenched his jaw and continued stepping through the snow while Kuai Liang lingered behind him.

The Arctika itself was always chilly with its freezing winds and the snow that seemed to never stop. But it had cold spots that were icy compared to the normal coldness. That was where Bi-Han was headed. It was easier to focus his power, and he hoped that the extra chill would help him freeze his illness out.

Kuai Liang warmed himself up from the bitter cold as he followed him. Tomas trailed behind the two brothers, shivering and the tip of his nose and cheeks turning red. He did not understand how Bi-Han could withstand it so easily.

Reaching the cold spot, Bi-Han threw himself onto the ground and began to cover himself in snow. His teeth chattered and his bones ached from the snow, but he knew he could focus his powers better this way. He had to freeze it out one way.

“Brother!” Kuai Liang kneeled down next to him and attempted to get the snow off of him, but Bi-Han smacked his hands. “You are going to get even more sick!”

Despite Tomas and Kuai Liang’s blabbering, Bi-Han sunk into the snow more and began to focus on the freezing temperatures. The cold. The ice that was beginning to frost over him. He needed to get his illness out quick.

He closed his eyes and blocked out his brothers’ pleas and focused on his heartbeat. His bones now ached to a great extent. His throat felt like it was being shredded by a cheese grater with every breath he took.

Bi-Han was not sure if he fell asleep or if he passed out. All he felt was someone pick him up which woke him up from his sleep. He assumed it was Kuai Liang, and Bi-Han grumbled quietly.

He felt warmth engulf his body, but it did not feel good. Going from extreme cold temperatures to hot made him feel like he was on fire. He groaned in pain, his throat flaring up again as he felt like his skin was being engulfed in flames. He fluttered his eyes open, and there stood his mother. She was worried, he could tell by the scrunch of her eyebrows. He saw a glimpse of his father approaching, but his eyes felt heavy. Bi-Han soon passed out once more.

When he opened his eyes again, he glanced around and saw that he was in bed with multiple blankets stacked on him. Near his bed, his mother slept. He felt his heart lurch as his worries consumed him. Was she okay? Did something happen?

Her eyes opened when she heard Bi-Han shifting around, and she got up quickly to tend to his needs. “My son! How do you feel?”

Bi-Han had a pounding headache, his limbs felt heavy, his bones hurt, he was not in any better shape. If not, worse than before.

He explained this to her on the paper pad and she sighed. “I told your father that freezing it out would only worsen it. I was right. You are officially on bed rest, Bi-Han.” She said as she gently pushed his stray hairs back from his forehead. “You are not going anywhere. You will not resume training. You will not get up from this bed, do you understand me?”

He wanted to argue and tell her that he could do it, but with the way he felt, he did not feel like doing anything. He just nodded his head at her while she sighed again.

“I don’t know what I would do if I were to lose you, my love.” She told him quietly. “You are my life. As well as Kuai Liang, but you are my life.”

Bi-Han suddenly felt tired, his eyelids starting to drag down as his vision blurred. He was once again entering his dream state that was empty. Void of any dreams. Just darkness.

It had taken three weeks for Bi-Han to fully recover. His mother fought hard for his father to give Bi-Han the adequate amount of recovery time. His father respected her wishes and granted Bi-Han time to rest. As much as he wanted his son to continue his training and work, he did not like to see him so severely ill. He saw how sickly Bi-Han looked after he tried to freeze it out of him. Bi-Han was pale with blue veins slightly showing through his skin. His body was limp and deathly cold. He thought for a moment that his son had perished by his own bad encouragement. But Bi-Han persisted.

As a future Grandmaster should.

Bi-Han began to feel better halfway into Week 3. He felt more energized and did not have to worry about falling asleep out of nowhere. Kuai Liang and Tomas were joyous to have their brother back even if he was grouchy. They had missed Bi-Han accompanying them to training and his moodiness that only made them annoy him more.

Training had its difficulties as he did not have the stamina built up anymore. So he had a somewhat difficult time attempting to adjust to his usual regime. However, he was used to not talking. His body may have been recovering well, but his throat still had flare ups. No one expected him to talk. But it frustrated him to no end trying to communicate without speaking. No one seemed to understand him. And sometimes it was hard keeping his side comments to himself.

One day, Tomas had accidentally smacked Kuai Liang in the face with a stick, causing the brother to have a large red mark across his cheek.

“By the Gods! Kuai Liang, I am so sorry!” Tomas apologized to him as Kuai, annoyed, told him it was fine.

“You imbecile.” Bi-Han rasped. “You need to watch where you are swinging objects.”

Tomas and Kuai both jumped on surprise, eyes wide as they swiveled their heads to Bi-Han.

“Brother, your voice…” Kuai Liang said in shock.

“It’s different.” Tomas breathed as they studied Bi-Han who was a little surprised himself. His voice was altered from his illness, and he did not expect it. It was deeper than normal with some raspiness to it. He sounded much older and a little intimidating.

“Be quiet, both of you.” He rumbled. Both of his brothers obeyed his orders.

Bi-Han used his voice more, even surprising his parents. “Your voice is new.” His father told him. “A future Grandmaster with a voice like that will bring him success.”

Bi-Han debated on whether his father was telling him the truth or not. He was used to his original voice, and he did not want any changes to it. It wasn’t anything special, but it was his regularity. Now, he had a much deeper and raspier voice that didn’t sit well with him.

Would he admit he was insecure? Absolutely not.

But his mother noticed he used his voice less despite being fully recovered. And she did what mothers always do best.

“My son,” she said to him one day while she helped him apply creams to his face. His face was breaking out from stress, and he was irritated because of it. “Your voice is lovely. It may have changed due to our sickness, but you sound intimidating. You can use that to your advantage, especially when you are Grandmaster.”

The cryomancer did not have that thought cross his mind. His mother was right, he could use it to his advantage. Bi-Han had always been on the much colder side with his personality, so having a voice like that would only add to his demeanor.

Brown eyes staring at his mother’s, he nodded his head. “I had never thought about it that way. Thank you.”

She smiled at him softly, continuing to rub a bit more cream onto his face.

Kuai Liang and Tomas had the hardest time adjusting to Bi-Han’s voice. They never fully got used to it, and if Bi-Han snuck up on them, he often surprised them.

He scared Tomas so bad that the poor kid swung himself off the side of one of the hills around the Arctika. His powers were definitely tested that day on whether he could control his smoke enough to bring himself up the large hill again. Bi-Han found is amusing while Kuai was worried about Tomas being hurt.

Bi-Han utilized his mother’s advice for many years, even after she had passed. Growing from a teenager to a fully-fledged man who was now the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, he had much practice with altering his voice to sound more imposing on others. Sometimes, he used it on his siblings. But Kuai Liang always rolled his eyes and told Bi-Han that he was not scaring anyone.

But they never were used to his voice. How gravelly it could sound and how it would change throughout the day. His voice sounded much different in the mornings than in the afternoons.

He was thankful he had gotten ill those many years ago. It worked out in his favor despite how much pain he had to go through. But he thought it worked out in his benefit.

[sneezeshame]

a CEO type with a big fancy house and car and a corner office who comes in sick with just a massive head cold. just really clearly trying to maintain their usual air of professionalism while fighting this really nasty thing they're coming down with. theyre wearing a high turtleneck and maybe a classy scarf to compensate, but their face is pretty pale, their lips parted just slightly to breathe, their nose noticeably red and chapped. the next day they say theyre working from home and attend various meetings virtually with their sound and video off, but when they do turn on their audio its clear that theyve nearly completely lost their voice, and have to talk in a low, hoarse whisper. occasionally they let out a great, forceful sneeze into the microphone, or forget to turn off their mic when they blow their nose with a wet, congested honk that barely makes a dent, followed by a fit of chesty coughs that betray that its setting up shop in their chest as well. in reality theyre taking these calls on their laptop or phone from their four poster bed, propped up on a pile of pillows, the silk sheets scattered with used tissues, severe cold and flu medication, and a thermometer. they were up all night the night before coughing and sneezing and shivering with a fever. the next day they officially call out sick; they pushed their voice too far and now have laryngitis so bad they can hardly speak. a doctor makes a house call and calls it what it is: a particularly wretched winter cold.

[bvttoneyes]

"Go For the Throat" ~ jake peralta x reader

tw! fighting, hitting a throat, self-defense, genitalia mention, laryngeal trauma.

sum! "Have one of them teaching the other self-defense or fighting and one of them accidentally hits the other too hard." (ai fanfic trope again lord save me)

I'M SO MAD, THEY DIDN'T HAVE A B99 LIKE PICTURE THING IDK WHAT THEY'RE CALLED. I'M 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓎. js fyi i did watch b99 while watching so im pretty up to date on his character 😉😎 also established relationship between jake and reader

You weren't a detective but you did have a detective boyfriend. Who says he's "put a bunch Gruber's away"? Whatever that means.

Anyways, having a cop boyfriend meant that you were safe. When he was there at least. Otherwise it was up to you to keep yourself safe.

Except you never really got taught how to defend yourself. But recently Jake offered to teach you self-defense.

You were on your way to the 99th precinct, after looking up what to wear when you practice self-defense. It said comfortable clothes you can move around in: you brought tennis shoes, t-shirt, shorts, no jewelry.

You go to the detective floor for Jake, after grabbing his attention he took you to the gym. He had on his gray shirt and jeans. God he looks so good.

"i don't know what to do." You confess to him, looking at his body not his face.

He chuckled, "thats the whole reason you're here. Because you don't know what to do."

You roll your eyes at his witty response. He then starts to teach you what to do.

"I'm gonna teach ya how to throw a punch, kay?" He said a tad more seriously.

You nod your head, then he goes further to explain.

"Okay you wanna make sure you're always covering your face. so put your forearms in front of your face, but make sure your fists are still able to throw a punch." He does it as he explains, showing you a visual aid as well.

You copy him, as well as his spread feet that he didn't explain.

"Okay, good. But I'm gonna warn you, you're not always going to be able to do that so I need to see how good your punch is." He explains.

You look confused, "How am I supposed to show you?"

"Punch me."

He says it so carelessly meanwhile you're freaking out, "What? Why?"

"So I can see how you strong you punch? I feel like I made it pretty clear?" He says with his confused, teasing smile.

You roll your eyes at his sarcastic come back, "Where?"

"uhh my stomach. No that might could hurt bad... uh my.. hand!" He says, while he was thinking about it he was doing that thing where he looks around a bunch.

You snicker at his antics before hitting his hands, the way he told you to do it. You hit hard enough that every time you hit him his hands went back. He also wasn't known for being the strongest. No matter how much Jake had told you otherwise.

"Noice, okay now let's do a body part where it wont move backwards when it gets hit." He has his proud, genuine, sweet smile on as he says this, "Hit my shoulder"

"Won't that hurt?" You put your hands down a little more as you look at him concerned.

He rolled his eyes and laughed, "Thanks babe, but I'm so buff that I probably won't even feel it."

Again, you roll your eyes and scoff at his comment. God he was gaslighting himself.

"What I'm saying is there a bunch of strong, tough bones in your shoulder that will hurt if I try to fist my fist through it?" You said, matter-of-factly.

His face came to a realization of what you meant then he smiled, "Oh yeah, smort. Hit me in the chest, it'll hurt less. Especially with all of these... chest bumps... that I do with, uh, my gym bro's."

You shook your head, putting your fists back to the way he instructed you.

BAM.

You meant to aim or the chest.

You thought you were hitting him a little below the collar bone.

Except you were a little off. You hit him in the throat.

He was making a wheezing noise, holding his throat. Your hands were still near your face, but this time they aren't kept in fists. They're flexing as you freak out.

"Oh my god, Jake! I'm so sorry I didn't mean to!" You say panicked.

He doesn't respond, he's still bent over an end table, holding his throat, wheezing.

You grab his phone, unlocking it, and call some of his coworkers upstairs to join you. Those being: Amy, Charles, and Terry.

They all come downstairs after seeing he had been put in a group chat with the only message reading, "come to the gym NOW."

They then see Jake gasping for air. Charles was the first one by his side.

"Jakey! Are you alright?" Charles asked panicked as well.

Jake gives him a look of concern and confusion (eyes widening and brows furrowed).

"What the hell happened down here?!" Terry asks somewhat loud, "Peralta I'm gonna take you to the hospital."

Charles, Terry, and Jake all leave. Jake getting admitted to the ER more than likely. Leaving you and Amy alone. Together. Where you probably just killed Jake.

"What happened?" Amy asks, genuinely just confused.

That's when you word vomitted.

"Jake was teaching me self-defense so I could protect myself when he isn't around, he told me to him in the chest but I missed and hit him in the neck!" You speak at a rapid pace.

You feel so guilty, he has a now life-threatening injury because of you. Amy comes up to you with a sympathetic look, rubbing your shoulder, "When the sarge texts me I'll let you know and I'll take you to the hospital."

You nod your head at her comment, appreciating her kindness.

About half an hour later Amy gets a text from Terry and she takes you to the hospital in her car.

You were allowed to visit him in his room, Terry had to drag Charles out so you two could have alone time.

Jake wasn't weezing anymore but his voice was super raspy.

"Baby, I'm so sorry. I did not mean to hit you in the throat. I meant to punch you in the chest, like you said. I feel so bad." You again rant.

"It isn't 100% your fault. I should've gotten you to punch the actual punching bag, the thing that is made to punch." He says somewhat regretfully, still coming out in weird teasing tone.

Your eyebrows were practically knitted together. He could see the guilt, pain, and regret in your face.

"Don't feel bad. We're both at fault. Hitting me in the chest also would've hurt me, and risked my heart. The doctors said I have Laryngeal trauma," He tries to explain, "but they also said that nothing looks severe and that I should be back to normal soon."

You nod, understanding that nothing is too severe. Still, you feel bad that this whole time you could've avoided this. If you were smart enough to say, "Hey! This isn't a good idea, let's just use the punching bag!" or if you had just done what he originally said and punched his shoulder.

"I think that is what you should use that move for self-defense." Jake says jokingly.

You rolled your eyes at him and laughed, "or kick 'em in the genitals. Hurts for girls and guys."

"I don't want to practice that move with you."

[sunkissedfawn]

If menstrual cramps are leaving you on the floor and/or bedridden clutching your abdomen, and/or feeling nauseous, feeling like you're going to pass out etc. THAT’S ACTUALLY NOT NORMAL. If it's also accompanied by no bleeding or bleeding heavily and your period is on and off or inconsistent (not happening on time/happening earlier or late) please find and go see a reliable and trusted medical professional. It could be endometriosis etc. A new thing I learned is our hormones could be imbalanced by chemicals we're unconsciously exposing ourselves to, which in turn, sometimes, has been known to cause cysts etc. I can’t stress enough the importance and heavily impactful it is to fix imbalanced hormones… so many doctors don’t know this and won't look into it further and do tests and will just throw medication at us and suggest we have our ovary/overies and/or uterus removed when really we never should’ve needed to…

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[jacksprostate]

Part 1 Part 2

That gets Mills' attention, gets him lunging across the table and Tyler's hands around my throat, there's men pulling on his arms as he tries to crush my windpipe and I'm gurgling and smiling and I can see this blind, blind rage in him. My feast. He's got his thumbs pressed up into the soft wax beneath my chin, I want him to gouge me, gouge me, gouge me.

When a man tries to strangle you, really, really tries to hurt you, you can feel a lot of things about it. About him.

Oh, yeah. The pressure. You can feel all your laryngeal cartilage threatening to cave in. Iminent collapse.

Your blood, trapped in your neck. Yes.

The unavoidable, sense of his grip as he crushes all the capillaries in your skin. God. I'll be wearing his hands for weeks.

This is a message from my real God. Everything else is fake. I realize now. My eyes are blown wide and all-seeing.

The syringe with my name on it ends up in Tyler's shoulder. Tyler Not Tyler.

I'm gasping, spit dribbles out of the mouth I cannot close, caught in an open grin. Gasping and hacking and laughing, oh, I am laughing.

Thank you.

Thank you, thank you.

Nothing but rasps coming out of my throat.

They've got his hands off me and behind his back, they're pressing him into the table. He's still fighting, the tranquilizers wouldn't be enough to put him down on a dose meant for my wasted body. He hasn't had the chance to start starving himself and it lets him twist his head, look me in the eye.

"You're fucking crazy," he spits.

I know. I know I know. You made me this way. I made you make me this way, whatever. It's been done.

He can't hear what I'm saying. No one can. Everyone can only hear him.

It's as it should be. I know this now.

I lose my jello privileges for goading him into violence. Mills gets spats of consciousness littered throughout a week. They're real luxurious with the barbituates, here. God is just a petty, power-hungry man. I see now. Pandora's box.

Soon enough, I'll be taking the orderlies' wings and nailing them up on the walls.

[goodwhump-temp]

Johnny Gage Whump - Emergency! (1972)

======------------ 1x07 Publicity Hound - Seasick, uptight/angry 1x08 Weird Wednesday - Falls down a hill, twists his knee 1x10 Hang-Up - Exposed to radiation, kept for observation ======------------ 2x04 Virus - Exposed to virus, nausea, collapse, hanging from the side of a building, high fever, admitted to hospital 2x05 Peace Pipe - Caught on fire, shot at by sniper 2x08 Trainee - Sweating, exhausted, threatened by a dog, scratched hand (bandaged), pain from needle injection, tumbles down steep/rocky hill, angry outburst 2x09 Women (☕) - Trapped in collapsing building, beam falls on leg (injured) 2x17 Honest - Falls off stairs, smoke inhalation, weak ======------------ 3x01 Frequency - Dying friend, jittery, emotional (sad/angry), emotional bonding with Desoto 3x05 Heavyweight - Pulled deltoid muscle, sling 3x06 Snakebite - Bit by rattlesnake, self administers IV, weak, unconscious, admitted to hospital, makes everyone worry 3x07 Promotion - Ceiling collapse, injured leg, falls from ladder, admitted to hospital 3x08 Insomnia - Insomnia 3x10 Zero - anxiety/stage freight, embarrassed 3x13 Understanding - Hostage, held at gunpoint, threatened 3x20 Floor Brigade - Slips on ladder, falls/lodges himself between metal bars, hurt ribs, sore/weak, wind knocked out of him, x-rayed 3x22 Inventions - Laryngitis, trouble breathing ======------------ 4x06 Surprise - Caught in building explosion, banged around, falls down stairs, broken leg, scratched face, imply he was unconscious for a long time (he sounds like open na noor) 4x19 It's How You Play the Game - Punched 4x20 The Mouse - Intervenes in bar fight, pushed, caught in explosion, knocked unconscious, ragdoll body/carried by fellow fireman, head wound, smoke inhalation ======------------ 5x04 Equipment - Angry & Sad at loss of a patient, two friends injured, in despair 5x05 Inspection - Slices his hand, bleeding profusely, bandage 5x22 Nuisance - Hit by a car, in severe pain, weak, losing consciousness, factured tibula and fibula, ruptured spleen, intense stomach pain, body in shock, surgery & recovery, jealous ======------------ 6x05 Fair Fight - Trapped in cave collapse, panicking

^ place to watch the show

[kyra45]

there's a blog by the name of josh-morga asking me, and claiming that she's fighting lung + brain cancer, and had stage 4 laryngeal cancer resulting the removal of her voice box. apparently she's raised around $681-$2600 via payp*l

It’s a scammer, unfortunately. Just another person trying to profit off of someone who actually has cancer. I’ve seen their ask from other blogs.

Scam post link (for easier reporting)

Never trust a day old/hours old blog asking you for money. Always ask them how they found you because it’s usually a trending post. Ask them why they’re sending you the ask and if they’ve sent it to other accounts. If they look suspicious, and you don’t want to answer the ask, just block them so they don’t go spamming people you interact with since they do that sometimes too.

[sootends]

you are me in different circumstances and i am you.

rememember when we were diagnosed with stage III laryngeal cancer on our 21st birthday? everyone was shocked, including us. ppl dont develope layrngeal cancer unless they are 65+ and have been smoking multiple packs a day for decades. they still dont know how we got it.

i wish you couldve seen us- it was bad- 114 pounds, our hair falling out, unable to eat or drink, barely able to sit up without needing to lay down- they hospitalized us immediately haha. idk if you remember, but we were in so much throat pain we hadnt been able to eat properly in quite sometime. The tumor on our layrnx had grown so large that swallowing ANYTHING (yes even spit and water) had become a monumentally painful task. all the doctors agreed the best course of action was to shave down the tumor (they couldnt just remove it without destroying our voicebox) and place a feeding tube thru the skin and muscle directly into the stomach.

do you recognize that description?

they placed the tube directly above our naval, and now it appears as if we have 2 bellybuttons.

3 doses of chemo (cisplatin) and 3 months of radiation. mama came back from philly to be with us. we couldnt afford to live anywhere so our friend carol (65 year old japanese woman and her son, seymon) let us live in her basement while we were being treated.

its so strange to think we were homeless while we had cancer. its strange to think that counts. i met a woman on the street who had cancer, every hospital refused to treat her because she was homeless and had no where to stay. they called her a liability.

we spent 3 months in carols basement. 3 months in our tiny pink room, beneath the earth. we felt undead- we watched as our cheeks and eyes sunk into our skull. we watched our hair thin, but not fall out. this chemo didnt make your hair fall out, and idk about you but something in me almost wished it did. even sleep was affected; we never watched to touch the tube, so we folded our hands across our chest and slept like a corpse every night. we didnt eat or drink anything with our mouth for 3 months.

the formula was made by nestle. you know, the chocolate child-slavery company. apparently nestle got its start in formulas before ever touching confectionairy. in order to eat, now i know you remember this, we had this comically huge syringe- i mean the damn thing looked straight out of a cartoon- and we would pour out the formula into a container and slurp it up into the syringe.

our feeding tube didnt look exactly like this, but its close enough. you see the part that says Y-adapter? once the syringe was full wed pop off the plug, open the clamp, and pour formula directly into our stomach.

yum.

we couldnt taste it but the aroma would waft up from our gut into our throat sometimes. it tasted like cardboard (and was quite sticky to the touch). do you remember how it felt every time it hit our stomach? this was also the only way we could drink water, being thirsty and hungry became a whole new sensation.

we began to miss chewing so much we found this website that sold chewy stim toys for autistic kids and adults. it was a littlw blue robot, its hanging on our wall now. couldnt bare to get rid of it.

it was also the height of the covid lockdown. very lonely time to have cancer, we fought constantly. fighting fighting fighting- cancer, ourselves, our mother, our feelings, our memories, our desires, our own happiness, our humanity, we fought it all. we were mean and selfish- caught in the ol selfdestructive misery loop.

Feel Bad -> Do Something Selfish To Make Urself Feel Better -> Selfish Action Hurts The People Around U -> Feel Bad -> Repeat

hard lessons, cancer is full of them.

These were my circumstances. these were our circumstances. i never wish that we traded places, but i wish you couldve seen. i feel no qualms about subjecting others to my own ruinous state, if this had to be my reality the least you could do is look.

[dakotakazansky]

Ghost • Nineteen

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Warnings: 18+, Fluff, Angst, lots of Dumb Bitch Juice, Some Smut Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x OC & Javy ‘Coyote’ Machado x OC Word Count: 3,239

Kota

I woke up the next morning feeling like I'd been hit by a Mack truck. I'm still wrapped up tightly in Jake's arms. I softly rub my cheek against his chest, trying to soothe myself back to sleep. If I'm sleeping, I can't feel the pain or numbness of the news I've received last night. No matter how hard I try to fall back to sleep, it's just not happening, my mind is racing and I just can't turn it off. Before I could truly register what was going on, my cheeks were once again stained with tears. 

I try to swipe the tears away quickly, not wanting to wake up Jake. I reach for my phone to check the time, 4:07 AM. I slowly crawl out of Jake's arms trying my hardest not to wake him, and make my way downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of water. I grab my glass of water, and stop over by the couch to grab my favorite throw blanket, the one Ice and I used to curl up under when we watched cartoons together before he had to leave for the base in the mornings. I pad my way through the house and down to his office. 

I knew Ice would be in bed with my mom, so I opened the door of his office, walked in and mostly closed the door back, leaving it open a crack. I swipe at the stray tears that threaten to spill over again. I take a sip of my water before placing it on the coaster I bought Ice one year for his birthday. It was one from a customized set, all Navy and Iceman themed. I wrap the throw around me and curl up in his huge office chair.

I try to come to terms with everything I was told yesterday but my mind is still racing. Stage 1 Cancer. I know mom loves and supports me, but I could lose my biggest supporter and fan ever. More tears well up and threaten to spill over as I look around the room at all of mine and Ice's accomplishments over the years. I close my eyes tightly trying to force back the tears, I'm already so exhausted from crying as is, and rest my head against the back of the chair. Sleep finally came back to me. 

A few hours later, I awoke to a huge soft palm placed on my shoulder, and I heard Ice call out, "She's okay, she's in here." Ice walks over to the door, and I hear him try to say quietly, "Would you mind just giving us a moment." I hear a deep sigh from Jake and a, "Yeah, I'll just be down in the living room with Sarah." Ice nods, shutting the door, and goes to sit on the couch, along the same wall the door is on. 

I get up from his chair, and walk over and sit next to Ice. I wrap my arms around his waist as he wraps his arms around me, holding me tightly to him. We sat in a comfortable silence for a bit, him waiting for me to speak first. When I don't speak up right away, he rests his head on the top of mine, hums softly, and rocks us back and forth gently. 

I eventually feel like I can speak, and I look up at him, biting at the inside of my cheek, fighting back tears again, finding the words I want to say first. Just barely about a whisper I croak out, "What kind of Cancer is it?" Ice continues to rock us, "It's laryngeal cancer. We found it early on, because I was having trouble swallowing, and was coughing more." He says giving me all the facts, knowing I'd have just asked for that next. 

I nod, "You said you start chemo and radiation next week?" He nods back to me, "They said I'm going to be getting Chemoradiotherapy, where they do my chemo and radiation together. They said having them together is the better and more efficient option."  

I nod again. "Ice, do you think you could call in a favor for me?" He looks down at me cocking his head to the side, giving me a questioning look, "I might be able to, what do you need?" I sigh, "I was wondering if you knew someone that could go to Jake's apartment in Lemoore, get my bike, and transport it down here. If you're going to be having treatment I want to be there with you when I can." I say sheepishly. 

"Of course I can arrange that Koty. We could have it here tomorrow after your Top Gun class." He says reassuringly. "But I don't want you to wear yourself down, coming to my treatments, and not doing your best in Top Gun Koty." I nod, knowing that was going to be said. 

He leans down to my ear and whispers, "You know, Jake's a good guy, he was really worried about you when he woke up and couldn't find you. Don't run from him, Koty. Make sure you lean on him for support too, and let him do the same if needed. Honestly you should go see him, so he stops worrying." I chuckle slightly, "I will, but could we just stay here for a few more minutes, please?" He nods, laying his head against the top of mine again, and goes back to humming softly, and letting me spend the time needed in his arms. I whisper just loud enough for him to hear, "Thanks dad, I love you."

Ice and I stayed with each other until I was good and ready to leave. I grabbed the blanket, wrapping it tightly around me like I was a little kid again, and opened the door to the office. As soon as that door popped open Jake was jumping up out of his seat near my mom and rushing to the door. 

As I walked out and Ice hung back in the doorway, I was engulfed in another set of strong arms. Jake kisses the top of my head, and whispers, "Darlin' I was so worried when I woke up and saw you weren't in bed with me. I checked the entire house and couldn't find you, I never thought to peek in your dad's office, you know for privacy reasons."

I wrap my blanketed arms around Jake's waist tightly and laid my head on his chest, "I'm so sorry, I never meant to worry you, you looked so peaceful sleeping, I just wanted some water and a few minutes to be alone, I didn't know I was going to fall asleep in there for hours." 

Jake kisses my temple now, rubbing small circles on my back with one hand, while his other hand rests softly on my head holding me to his chest, "Darlin', don't you ever be sorry about your needs. I promise I'll always listen and understand. Why don't we go sit on the couch with your parents and watch some cartoons, you know, for old times sake." 

I look up at Jake, eyes watering from this kind and thoughtful gesture, "Thank you, I'd really like that." I say shakily. He wraps an arm around me leading me to the couch, with my parents following us. I end up sandwiched between my two favorite men, while my mother sits on the other side of Ice. 

Mom ends up putting some cinnamon rolls into the oven, and we have a wonderful little family breakfast and watched all sorts of cartoons for nostalgia's sake. I couldn't have asked for a more kind and caring person out of Jake, what I thought was going to be just a family dinner turned out to be so much more, but in the end it turned out to be a family bonding moment with Jake involved too.

Around 11:30 AM, after a few hours of cartoons and having breakfast and bonding time with all my favorite people, Jake and I head upstairs to get cleaned up. I pack up my acoustic guitar and decide it's coming with us. We also snagged a few of my framed photos to put up around the house. Before we headed out, I gave dad Jake's garage code, and told him to text or call me when his first treatment appointment was scheduled. 

Once we were back in Jake's truck, I sat in the middle of his bench seat, and leaned against him for the hour ride home, while he had an arm wrapped around me. "Jake?" I say, my voice never louder than a whisper, clearly still extremely exhausted. "Hmm?" He hums back to me, while glancing at me quickly before looking back at the road. 

"I didn't want to impose anything on you or make you feel like a chauffeur," I paused for a moment to gain some more energy, "so I asked Ice to have one of his buddies go to your apartment in Lemoore and grab my bike for me. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable driving me to Ice's treatment appointments." He nods understanding, "Perfectly fine Darlin', if you do want me to support you and go with you one day, don't be afraid to ask." 

I nod to him, then turn to kiss his cheek softly, "Thank you Jake, you really don't know how much that means to me." He smiles saying, "Anytime Darlin', but when were you going to tell me about that?" He says point towards the guitar case. I chuckle a little, "I don't know, maybe I wanted to shock you with all my talents all at once." He just shakes his head laughing a little, "Darlin', what am I going to do with you?" I shrug softly against his side, "I dunno, love me anyways?" 

We finally get back home, and we unload the few things we brought back with us. It's still pretty early on in the day, but Jake offers, "Darlin', do you wanna go take a nap?" How this man knows me this well, I'll never understand. I nod before yawning one of those whole body, shaking your entire soul yawns. "C'mere Darlin'." He says before picking me up and carrying me to the bed. 

He holds me tightly, and places a kiss on my temple. "How about I plan a little outing for later this afternoon, after your nap?" I nod my head against his chest, not knowing that he's already got it planned. I mumble, voice deep with sleep, "I'd like that very much." Another huge yawn escaping my lips before succumbing to sleep once again. 

—

I wake up, feeling colder than usual. I pry my eyes open against the midday sun shining into the room. I look over to the alarm clock on the nightstand to see it's been a little over a half an hour since we'd laid down for the nap. I see one of Jake's zip up jackets nearby and shrug it on, before zipping it up about halfway. My arms are hidden in the sleeves of the jacket that is about two or three sizes too big for me. I pad my way out of the room, and towards our living room. "Cowboy?" I call out, trying to locate where he's gone. No reply, I walk over to the front windows to check outside for his truck, it's gone. 

I went to grab my phone, and as soon as I tapped the screen, I saw that Jake had not only put my phone into do not disturb mode, but had sent me a message saying that he's running to the store and will be back as soon as possible. I look at the timestamp of the message, it was sent about 15 minutes ago. 

I'm not sure how much longer it'll be until he gets back, so I go ahead and start a load of our laundry, before going to lay back down. I turn on one of my many playlists, pop my AirPods into my ears, and turn the music up a little louder than normal. I close my eyes and soak in the music. 

After a few songs I feel a dip in the bed and open my eyes to see Jake sitting next to me. I smile softly, sitting up in bed now, "Hey there Cowboy." Jake kisses my temple, "Hello there sweet girl. You want to start getting ready to head out?" I nod and throw on a very easy and comfortable outfit and Jake and I make our way out of the house again, towards the surprise outing he has planned for us.

Jake helps me into his truck, before getting in himself and starts off towards our location. About a 5-10 minute drive later and we are pulling up to the beach, just before sunset. He parks the truck and helps me out. He leans down and I chuckle at him, "What are you doing?" He just laughs before saying, "Hop on!" I hop up onto his back, and he walks to the back of the truck. He grabs out a picnic basket, a beautiful bouquet of red and white roses, with some baby's breath, and my guitar case. I gasp on his back, grabbing my guitar case and carefully sling the strap of it over my shoulder. 

He carries me on his back down to the beach where a blanket is already set up, and he lets me down, he sets the picnic basket down, and hands me the flowers. "Jake, this is so sweet!" I say a little misty eyed. "Anything for you Sweet Girl." He replies back. 

We ate the various goodies he packed into the picnic basket, my favorite part being he remembered my favorite cupcakes, chocolate with chocolate frosting and small chocolate chips, or what I call, Triple Chocolate Threat. "Jake, you really didn't need to do all of this." I start to say before he cuts me off, "I know I didn't need to, but after the last day or two, I knew you'd enjoy and appreciate it." 

I eventually got my guitar out and strummed on it for a little bit before asking, "Any song requests?" I look over to Jake waiting for his answer. He thinks on it for a minute, "Do you know Burnin' It Down?" I thought for a moment, "By Jason Aldean?" He nods to me, "Yeah I do!" I begin to play the song, and sing it to Jake. He eventually chimes in with me about halfway until the end of the song.

 "Holy shit Kota, you're incredible, how did I not know this?" He says as I giggle, "Well cowboy, we've always got the radio up really loud in the truck while we sing along." He laughs, "Okay you got me there!" He requests a few more songs that we sing together before I pack up the guitar. 

Jake moves to where he's sitting between my legs, laying back against me. I run my fingers through his hair for a little bit before laying my head against the top of his. "Jake, can I ask you something?" He nods gently, "Of course Kota." 

"When did you know you liked me?" I ask shyly. "Well, there was multiple times darlin'." He pauses for just a moment, "I liked you as a person, the first day I met you in our plebe summer, you were so careful and kind to help me find our classrooms. I liked you as a friend, when you told off that one kid who tried to only befriend you for your dad the first week of classes. I liked you more than a friend when we started spending every day together, or when you flirted back with me that one night at the bar when I was dared to flirt with you. I liked you as a pilot, when you proved your worth to those shit heads who doubted you. But I think I liked you the most when you're just being unapologetically you." 

I'm so thankful he's in front of me, and can't see the massive amount of blush that has fully crept up all over my cheeks. He softly rubs circles on my leg, "When did you start to like me darlin'?" I think back for a moment, "Honestly this is going to sound so terrible, but I don't think I ever had a time where I fully realized I liked you until the parent trap date. Like I've always liked you, since like school but I think I denied myself the feelings not wanting to ruin our friendship that I never paid attention to the actual day or what happened." I sigh a little upset with myself. "Nothing to be upset about, sweet girl." Jake reassures me. 

We talked a little while longer, about our intentions and feelings for each other, as the sun went down beneath the horizon. We packed up our little beach picnic and took it all back to the truck. "Hey can we just go walk along the beach for a little bit?" I suggested not ready to leave just yet. Jake nods to me, taking my hand in his intertwining our fingers together. As we walked along the beach I started humming a song I'd heard that resonated with how I'm feeling currently with all the news I've gotten recently. "Whatcha humming there Darlin?" Jake asks, his eyebrow cocked up, as curious as ever. "A song that resonated with me recently. Wanna hear?" He nods to me.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket, skimmed through my playlist until I found the song. I turned the volume up on my phone before pressing play. The song starts and I sing along with it, 

—

Lately, I've been Scaring myself Going through changes But I need to let you know

Maybe I'm in The dark, no lighthouse I know I kept you waiting But I can't do this alone

—

Before I knew what was happening next, Jake had pulled me in and began slow dancing with me to the song, and encouraged me to keep singing along. 

—

Yeah, it's a long way back but I'm falling I been tryna cure my head, full of toxins I don't wanna drag you down where I'm failing But I don't wanna lose you now, so I'm saying

I would lay my guard down for you I would lay my guard down for you I would lay my guard down for you I would lay, I would lay, I would lay it down for you

—

Jake and I continued to dance along to the song until it finally came to an end. He pressed his forehead to mine, "Thank you sweet girl." I gave him a confused look, "What for?" He pulls me tightly to him, "For sharing this song with me, I know when things get rough you shut down, you try to push people away, your dad told me. Thank you for opening up to me." I nod and whisper, "You're welcome, and thank you, for being here even when you don't have, most people would've ran by now." 

He smiles at me, "Well I'm glad I'm not most people, Dakota Kazansky you mean the world to me." He pauses, getting nervous, "Dakota, would you, uhm, want to be my girlfriend? I don't want to spend another day without you as my girl." I nod, getting misty eyed again, "I would love to."

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[friendrat]

I posted 2,995 times in 2022

That's 2,904 more posts than 2021!

169 posts created (6%)

2,826 posts reblogged (94%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@taleweaver-ramblings

@kanerallels

@o-lei-o-lai-o-lord

@lady-merian

@so-prickly-pear

I tagged 2,539 of my posts in 2022

Only 15% of my posts had no tags

#dracula daily - 245 posts

#dracula - 206 posts

#bwahahaha - 166 posts

#miraculous ladybug - 159 posts

#art - 145 posts

#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir - 118 posts

#adrien agreste - 100 posts

#memes - 100 posts

#language warning - 95 posts

#writing - 90 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#my husband wasn't able to join the military because doctors prescribed him a seizure medication to help him lose weight when he was a teen

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Old theory I never posted here:

So my kids were watching the Magic School Bus. It happened to be the Inside Ralphie episode, and I noticed something a bit odd. Anyone who's watched that show knows that Ms Frizzle always dressed to match her field trip. And at the beginning of the episode, she is dressed just how you would expect for a day that they would be studying how the human body fights infection... except she was dressed that way *before* she got the call that Ralphie was sick! Which means she had to have known in advance that he was sick.

It reminded me of one of the books I read where she goes on vacation to Egypt, and hijacks the tour after the tour guide mysteriously and suddenly contracts laryngitis. She then proceeds to take the entire plane of tourists back in time.

All this makes it look suspiciously like she can make people get sick. And that means that she most likely made Ralphie sick for the purpose of the field trip.

135 notes - Posted November 10, 2022

#4

My husband just pointed out that when referring to Adrian's different personas, we shouldn't call him "civilian Adrian", we should call him "House Chat", and I have never heard anything so brilliant before. Petition to call him House Chat.

198 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

#3

Ok Tumblr, I'm in a debate right now about The Sea Beast.

A bunch of people are saying that it doesn't make sense how the royalty of the kingdom is making money of of the hunting industry, but I thought it was kinda obvious how it worked? I think it's twofold.

First, they are clearing trade routes. That opens up the doors to more foreign trade. Some people are arguing"well that benefits other kingdoms too". Which is true, but doesn't prove that they aren't getting rich from it. 🙄 History people. Open trade routes leads to wealthier kingdoms and better lives for the common people.

Second, I think the next logical assumption is that they are making money off of the sea beast horns. Yes, they tell the hunters to bring them back as proof of their kills, but what really happens to them afterwards? You can't tell me all of them end up in their museum/private collection. Not given the number that the hunters brought back from a single voyage. Also, look at how many real world species have been hunted to extinction over horns, tusks, and pelts. Add that to the time period meaning that they had inferior medical knowledge as well as more superstition (which is also seen in the movie, so I'm not just guessing based on the time period), we have a recipe for those horns to be used for any number of things including medicine and magical totems.

So there we have it. An exclusive resource (we don't hear of any other kingdoms being built up by hunters, although I could be wrong there... but we do know that they have the *best* hunters, which means they still would have the best supply), and clear routes to trade that resource (among other things). That's how the kingdom got rich on the blood of sea beasts. Am I off my rocker? Maybe. I just took the unanswered question in the movie and applied what I know about the real world to it. It made sense to me.

Any other theories? Am I wrong?

216 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

#2

The pep talk I didn't know I needed today

348 notes - Posted September 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

All of the modern takes on Dracula really make me wish they would make a mostly true to book adaptation that is a horror comedy, with things like Dracula having sudden costume changes while pretending to be his own staff, trying to knock the crucifix off the wheel in order to steer the ship, and the people of Whitby chasing him around as a dog. Just all the collective hot takes on what's going on with this story that make us, the modern readers, laugh, presented in a glorious cinema quality film.

1,877 notes - Posted August 9, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[briamichellewrites]

35

Bria was getting out of bed for the first time in two days. It felt wonderful! Her legs needed to move about. She was overflowing with energy. The cardiologist wanted to change her ADHD medication because it could interfere with her pacemaker. She gave him permission to speak with her primary care provider by signing a release of information form. Was it possible that her heart problems were caused by the ADHD medication? Yes, this was possible. Especially because she was already predisposed to it.

Mike and Anna both thought that was fascinating. The cardiologist explained the medication's effects and interactions with the rest of her body. Her medication was a stimulant that accelerated her heart rate. They would never have considered that. However, they were not physicians. There were some medications that were not stimulated.

However, drowsiness was one of the side effects. She would not be able to drive until she figured out how the medication affected her. The remaining side effects were uncommon. They included low blood pressure and irregular heartbeats. It was a matter of deciding between the lesser of two evils. She required the medication to function normally. Not taking it would result in a recurrence of symptoms. This meant she could not concentrate, was hyperactive, and had poor impulse control.

It also entailed inefficient time management and disorganisation. Her stability would collapse. Mike would need to do more research on the disorder because his knowledge was limited. ADHD was different from being energised by caffeine. It was due to chemical imbalance in the brain. It could also be genetic. Since it was not recognised as ADHD until 1989, neither of her parents were screened for it.

She lifted her feet off the floor while sitting. They were both wanting to move around. She jokingly asked how she was going to rest when she had so much energy. They laughed.

George and Brad had a good time visiting with Michelle. She lived in a small townhouse in Studio City with two bedrooms and two bathrooms. It was the perfect amount of room for her. She decorated it with her pay cheque. Bria's childhood photos were displayed on her fireplace mantle. She was a beautiful child with long brown hair and big, curious eyes. It was clear from a young age that she would be tall.

Henry was tall and built like a football player. His American driver's license listed him as six feet, two inches and weighing somewhere around 200 pounds. He was appealing to both men and women, even though he identified as gay. Michelle was adorable. George was drawn to her personality and welcoming demeanour. She was also tough as nails. He discovered this while she was fighting cancer. She was determined and refused to give up. He admired that aspect of her personality.

Bria's physical features were similar to those of her father. She inherited her mother's tenacity and determination. Michelle had a photo from the concert she and George went to. Bria was photographed onstage performing with Linkin Park.

She climbed onto one of the speakers and was rocking out with the crowd. Michelle took it because she wanted to recall that moment. Brad pointed out the jacket she was dressed in. That was Henry's former army jacket. He gave it to her just before the concert. It held all of his accolades and medals. George had vivid memories of that concert.

She was filling in for someone who had fallen ill. She could not remember his name. She was asked to be their lead singer at the very last minute. Brad enquired as to the events that occurred.

"Bria and her band were touring with... I can not remember the band's name. Their lead singer developed an illness. I believe he developed bronchitis and laryngitis. They were about to cancel the show, but it would have been costly. Bria, however, took his place. He was able to complete the tour after a few days of rest. Bria would recognise who I am referring to.”

Bria possessed a unique quality. That was something Brad noticed. He stopped by while she was hanging out with Mike and Anna. During their meeting, he brought up a story he had heard about her the night before. It was about being assaulted. Yes, she and Mike gave their versions of what happened. It was a lot more detailed than Michelle remembered. They were in Wales with a band known as Lost Prophets. Their lead singer approached her from behind.

She kept her head down because she was looking at her phone. He slapped her buttocks. She turned around and lashed out at him. She first screamed out of fear. Then she began punching and kicking him. He held his hands up to protect himself. She was so furious that she was running on adrenaline. They had to physically separate her from him. They transported her back to their bus.

She broke down in tears because she was so angry. Did she press charges? No. When they returned to Los Angeles, they went to the police station to give their statements. They were powerless to intervene because the incident took place in another country. They saved the paperwork in case he committed any illegal acts in Los Angeles. He lived in Wales, so she did not expect to see him at the supermarket. His bandmates apologised for his behaviour.

They eventually broke up. What is his name? Ian Watkins. He was a repulsive individual who received visits from underage fans. They could only imagine what he was doing to them.

"It happened from zero to one hundred. It is like a snap of the fingers. I just reacted," she explained.

"Great for you. I bet he was not expecting you to attack him."

"He wasn’t. His band was delightful. He was the only one who was terrible. My father taught me how to defend myself when I was younger because he did not want me to be dependent on a man."

They laughed. He joked with her, asking if she was English or American. She switched back and forth between the two. She could be a proper English woman one moment and a cussing rocker American girl the next. It just depended on what she said. She jokingly blamed her father's fondness for country music. What type of woman would she be if she lived in the country? She would be the one who got into pub fights and was associated with the boys. What were they called?

Redneck. It was not a term that everybody agreed on. Brad grew up in Oklahoma and was familiar with rural life.

"My father likes to joke that if he and I were Lynryd Skynard, he would be the country singer and I would be the rockstar. Have you ever met my father?”

"I have not met him, but your mother and George have told me great things about him. Do your parents get along?”

"Yes, it took them some time after their divorce because he was very angry. Because of me, they eventually decided to be friendly with one another. They get along, but they are not friends."

When Henry stopped by to say hello, he met Brad for the first time. Brad thought he looked more attractive in person. He appeared to be very concerned about his physical appearance. She enquired about her kittens. He informed her that Jerry was working on obtaining permission to transport them to the hospital. Did it give her something to look forward to? Yes. They laughed. She was going to be back home before she knew it. He told her to start thinking about names. Lynard Skynard. He advised her to keep thinking. They laughed.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[sithwitch13]

AEW WrestleDream Zero Hour 10/12/24

My sister was in town so we grabbed a late lunch before her flight. I missed Fancy Man Chuck Taylor, but got to see Nyla, at least.

So Cage is winning, right? Wish we got to see more of Atlantis Jr with the title, but sounds/looks like his upper body and neck are kind of fucked.

Yep

I don't know who MxM's dude is off the top of my head. Rico Constantino says Twitter, but I am busy making a quick amigurumi gift so I'm not researching

HARLEY AND ANNA

I lied, looks like Rico joined WWE just after I stopped watching and was Billy Gunn and Chuck Palumbo's stylist during their whole thing. A+ troll move on MxM's parts

That was a fun match, love them both

MXM COLLECTION TIME

I love my precious beautiful model boys

BOOOO

YESSS GIVE ME MERCEDES VS QUEEN AMINATA

Yesss ConglomeRunners vs Dark Athletes! (I don't particularly care about the Premere Athletes but they are all very attractive so there's that)

"My wrestle dream is that Mark Sterling gets laryngitis." LOL Excalibur

Uno with the papers will always pop me 💜

Ha, I was singing "Holding Out For a Hero" in my car earlier.

Yessss give me KOR vs Okada!

Dammit Vice Principal Daniels, let them fight!

[jacksprostate]

A virus takes up residence in your throat: you've got laryngitis, and you get sentenced to manning the slide deck and watching your boss butcher your presentation to upper management.

This is something I would've cared more about before meeting Tyler. Now, I'm only annoyed it's not my broken nose and sunken eyes keeping me in the corner, annoyed the swelling in my throat gives my boss an easy and comfortable excuse for my asocial demeanor.

I tongue the hole in my cheek so my teeth will be fresh with blood when I shake hands with my boss's boss and peel my lips apart in some lazy reminiscence of a smile.

If I spoke right now, I'd sound like Freddy Krueger. Nancy, Nancy, Nancy.

When you talk in your head, your vocal cords practice. The pain strikes me as unusual after all this blunt force trauma.

It's a bit embarassing, how much my throat hurts as Tyler coughs up the rules for fight club on Saturday. I'm following along like a baptist, amen, my throat spasms as he says it all. He's a bit hoarse. If I get Tyler sick, if the little virus making my buddhist retreat from society mandatory curses Tyler to silence, I know he'll start scrawling on the walls. We've as of yet avoided going Goya with it. The grimace on Tyler's face says that's a dying statement.

Marla comes around, once. I croak at her. She disappears, she shows back up, my father constantly slips out of the room as my mother forgets her keys. I get chamomile herbal tossed in my face.

"Maybe it'll solve both your problems," Marla says, and waves off my protests that I drank this tea for a year straight and never gained a drop of sleep. Tyler, when he crawls out of his hole, sniffs the box and sets it aside for soap. If I wanted to protest this, I couldn't.

I think, I wouldn't mind if this continued. Tyler can recover; should. Tyler needs to talk. It's one of those, not quite necessary in the hunter-gatherer sense of the word things that I would rather jam a rusty box cutter deep into my asshole than live without.

My own voice, though?

It'd be alright without a funeral.

[dragonsarecool]

June of Doom Day 26 - Choke

A/N: Apologies for the delay in finishing! Ended up becoming quite ill after my holiday which sucked. I have two chapters left to write and then the rest will be published all at once :)

A/N: Needles uses force to get his point across. Set prior to Part I.

He would've given anything to call in sick for his shift tonight.

Though the fact that he couldn't really talk at this point would've hindered the call part of his plan. Why does Needles have to be such an asshole? My voice had almost come back…

Marty swallowed painfully as he gave a polite knock on the scientist's front door. Please be out please be out please be out-

"Come in, Marty!"

Dammit.

He fumbled with the lock purposely in a vain attempt to draw out the inevitable confrontation, slipping the spare key back under the mat. The last thing he wanted to hear Doc ranting about today was how he needed to stop taking shit from Needles and his group of misfits, and to finally stand up for himself.

He'd gotten an earful of that already from Jennifer during lunch.

He didn't tell her what had happened initially. Granted, he couldn't speak anyway, but he was hoping he could play it off as a flare-up of the laryngitis he'd spent the previous week fighting. If anything, it was a blessing that his parents were too absorbed in their latest spat to ask him how school was going, meaning the rest of his family were oblivious to his current condition.

That is, until Jennifer noticed the fingerprints around his throat. Her mouth had dropped in a whispered gasp, her nails delicately tracing along the faint bruises adorning his neck.

He wasn't sure if her tears or her terrified ranting was worse.

"Marty? Are you alright?"

The teenager snapped back to reality, remembering that he'd been waiting on Doc's doorstep, with the man in question having seemingly appeared in front of him. He didn't even get to open his mouth before the questions started flying. "My God, Marty, you look terrible! Have you not been sleeping again?"

Ironically enough, Doc, I haven't been.

How could he, when all he'd been dreaming about for five days was Needles?

How Needles's friends had jumped him after school and pinned him against his own locker.

How the scumbag himself had squeezed and caressed his throat like a stress ball, refusing to let go until he'd been forced to acknowledge he was the son of a coward.

How Needles had laughed hysterically at his swollen, bloated face while he gasped for air, trying to fight against the curtain of blackness creeping at the edges of his vision.

If anything, he was glad that it happened on a Friday. It meant he didn't have to look at his own locker for a couple of days and relive the moment so soon after its occurrence.

He was also grateful that his mother was blackout drunk when he'd finally summoned the strength to pull himself off of the corridor floor and skate back home. It'd meant he was able to sprint straight to his bedroom, where he'd essentially quarantined himself for the weekend.

Though Doc didn't seem to have noticed his predicament, he was still uneasy. He can't talk forever; eventually he'll ask me something.

I really don't want to tell him. Maybe he won't notice?

"No no no, there is definitely no work happening today. Come on in, Marty. Grab yourself a Pepsi; I've just restocked the fridge," Doc left the door open, making his way towards the kitchen. "I'm not feeling too great myself; Einstein was up howling half the night because of those damn kids from up the road. My God, parents these days can be so oblivious about their children…"

Marty followed his friend silently, his fatigue-ridden eyes cast down. You don't say, Doc…

[leechysmile]

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