#i call them my littles sleep apnea

[medys-space]

Doodles with the cute little Peony of @lammydraws au (⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

[daddysfangirls-marvel]

Polyamorous: Baby Tax

Steve rogers x female! reader x Bucky Barnes/ Stucky x female!Reader

Warning: fluff, baby talk

Ian West Rogers- Barnes, formally known as Ian West, was 15 months old and had been in the Roger-Barnes home for seven months since being released from the hospital. After being told his younger mother's story, they also received her ashes as well. They now sat in the living room along with a picture of her. She would not be forgotten or replaced. 

The Rogers-Barnes family had come together to welcome Ian into the home. Ash took three months off of work to get to know her new little brother and take care of her parents, yes, parents. As she had read somewhere that new parents often struggled the first few months and didn't take care of themselves. And they weren't letting a lot of people around or help due to Ian's health issues. So she stuck around to make sure they had help, took care of themselves, and that they adjusted well to the new arrangement. Going for that Daughter of the Year award.

Steve and Rogers also took three whole months off and then returned to part-time routines. Part-time routines, as in they returned to work as part-timers, but they route which of them would go to work and who would stay home and work and switch every two weeks. Unless something important or urgent happened, one of them would always be home. And this arrangement would last for the next six months. 

(Y/n) however, was and would always be home as she was a licensed and veteran nurse, and Ian had health issues. She took the first four months off completely to focus on baby Ian and only returned to work from home. She also allows herself to be put on call, but only for emergencies. She would not return to the compound until Ian's health issues were resolved or were no longer a serious threat. Everyone understood and did their best to never need her. 

Seven months into this arrangement, everyone they should be was back to work, to some extent. And the parents had rightfully given up.

NOT give up on Baby Ian but given up on all the parenting books and mommy and daddy blogs, realizing that they weren't helping any and, if anything, were causing more frustration and creating unattainable standards. They simply did the best they could and as they pleased as long as baby came out healthy and happy. 

This is probably why Pepper was looking at (Y/n) so bewildered. 

Pepper was seven months pregnant and came over to ask for some parenting advice to help prepare. Now she was currently sitting at the kitchen counter and watching (Y/n) with Ian on her hip make a drink and watching Ian stick his little fingers in every ingredient she pulled out. 

"Um... is that sanitary?"Pepper asked as she held her glass of water closer. 

" His hands are clean, and it's only a little milk and whipped cream. The consequences will be in his diaper, and I'll pass that on to Steve." (Y/n) joked. 

"Does he always do this?" 

"If I'm holding him and making something, yes. He likes to taste mommy's food. I don't hold him while I use the stove and such."  (Y/n) gave him a pacifier so she could have her frappuccino in peace. 

"You said you wanted advice? Don't be afraid of germs or messes. This baby is very messy and touchy. I can assure you your baby's fingers will be in everything. Their mouth, your mouth, your hair, your food, everything." 

(Y/n) moved to the living room, and Pepper followed. She put Ian on the floor mat with some toys before joining her on the couch.

" I don't think I have a lot of advice, and the advice I do have, I don't want to"

Pepper looked at her, confused. 

"My baby has sleep apnea and underdeveloped lungs. I'm not going to give you advice on that, Pepper, because I pray your baby won't end up like that." It was then Pepper truly looked at her and realized how exhausted (Y/n) looked, not in the way of not sleeping but in the way of someone who worried and pulled out their hair. Someone who had experienced and felt so much that they just couldn't anymore. She could still feel, but she could no longer find it in herself to react to her feelings. 

" If you ever want-"

"Absolutely not."

"I didn't -"

"You were going to say, 'If you ever want to talk about it, I'm here'. No, Pepper, you worry about your own baby, but I'm not going to dump any of mine on you. I won't do that. Not right now, at least. Maybe once he's healthier and started biting my ankles. But not when he is like this... I'm sorry." 

"You're sorry?"

"You came for advice. I don't have much to give." 

 " But you have." Pepper pat her on the back " You have shown me little of what I am to prepare for. Tiredness, fingers in all my food."

"Bucky calls it the Baby Tax—payment for always having baby close. Don't be discouraged by the sanitary implication or the mess, Pepper. It's a very good price." 

"She's right," Steve said as he came around the corner. It was his time to be home. He kissed (Y/n) forehead and squeezed Pepper's shoulder before joining Ian on the floor. "I, too, thought it disgusting and unhealthy at first, but over time...it's just adorable now. In the realm of Baby taxing, keep your baby clean and watch what you eat or make. Everything should be fine."

"The way you talk, you'd think this was your 3rd baby," Pepper chuckled. 

"I think we just got into too many parent blogs and books. Dove head first into those too many expectations and high standards. I think those Blogs forget each situation, and each baby is different." Steve said as he pulled Ian onto his chest. " Hey, that's some good advice. Your baby is different from all the other babies in the world. Remember that, and You'll figure out the rest on your own."  

"While we can't give you advice on birthing or raising your pretty baby, I can advise you on cleaning messes and where to buy certain products such as toys, clothes, and food."

-

"How is prep going?" Bucky asked Tony. 

Tony was aware Pepper was at his house and caught a ride with him after work so he could bring his wife back without taking another car. 

"Prep?"

"Prep for the baby. You got less than 10 weeks left."

"Yeah, the nursery is done. Diapers, wipes, and toys—we got all the goods." Despite talking it out over the years and getting past the obvious, Tony found it awkward having this conversation with Bucky. The two weren't friends, more like a friend of my friend type of situation. Besides the initial short talk about his parents, the two had never had a conversation with just each other, nor were they ever left alone ( unless for work/a mission).

"That's good. If you need anything, Steve and I are here for dad stuff." That was definitely not what he was expecting. He didn't really know how to react to that.  They sat in silence for a few minutes with just that. 

"How is the dad stuff?"

"It's ah going pretty good. A few hick-ups, but that's to be expected.....It's actually ... I'm not having the problems I thought I would."

"Like what?" Tony asked cautiously.

"My arm," Bucky whispered, looking down at the medal appendage. Bucky had two different prosthetics. One for work - heavy vibranium metal, bulletproof, explosive proof, with super strength ( a quarter stronger than his actual strength), with a heating and cooling system. And one for home- lightweight, light Vibranium metal, bulletproof, with an attached nerve system, so he could feel everything like a normal hand. "Thank you, by the way."

"She knew you'd worry about it," Tony said. (Y/n) had approached him about Bucky's arm before they adopted the boy. She knew his fear and asked Tony to make something infant-friendly. Truly, all he did was make it more lightweight, take away the strength, and make sure he could feel his child with both hands. " I was happy to help."

"My dreams,"  while his trip to Wakanda cleared his mind, he still had nightmares from time to time and woke up violently. Fortunately, Steve and (Y/n) were always there to bring him back. "Work, enemies. We've got a lot."

"yeah, we do," Tony said. " Good thing we got Stark and super soldier security. No one is getting through our front door unless we want them to." 

"And if they do, we'll kill them."

"So violent." Tony walked back to his workbench.

" Don't dive into parenting books and blogs. That is my dadvice to you."

"Dadvice"

"Oh, diaper duty is your duty, at least for the first month." Tony made a stink face and shivered. Bucky Chuckled " Should have worn a condom then."

Inspired by Tiktok

[catreginae]

okay i really really want to start reading your vampire wars thing because first of all, im OBSESSED with the concept, and second, it just seems cool as hell, but i’ve been unable to read recently so i haven’t had a chance to get to it. ITS ON MY LIST THO 🙌🙌🙌

BUT I STILL WANNA KNOW ABOUT HIM HE SEEMS SO COOL. I don’t wanna ask annoying questions cos I feel like most of the one’s I have are things you’ve probably already answered haha, BUT TELL ME ABOUT UR SPECIAL GUY. Is there anything in particular you just really really wanna talk about? Any little details you’re really proud of that you want people to notice? Can he turn into a particularly fluffy little bat? If so would bat Wars appreciate head pats? Is there a specific vampire lore that inspired this?

-crazylittlejester

Sorry this took so long! This is the first ask I got after asking for them but it's the last I got to!

I think people realized these things but I’m going to talk about them anyway!

Warriors has bad self-esteem. He’s super protective of the others. He has the ability to regenerate, so it’s hard to hurt him in a way that actually matters. He can pretty much bounce back from anything. Anyway, all three of these aspects of Warriors feed into each other. He doesn’t care about what happens to him because he can regenerate. The pain is worth it if the others are safe. He thinks keeping the others safe by taking the really bad hits is how he’s earning his keep in the group because he has a hard time accepting that they actually like him for who he is. The others are working on it!

This boy is a pacer. When he’s restless and antsy, or hopped up on blood, he just starts pacing. He cannot help it.

Warriors is actually the sleepiest in the chain and beats even Sky. I headcanon Sky with sleep apnea (because of projection) but Warriors ends up sleeping the most because being half-vampire is actually really hard on his body. I like it imagine that sleep is the glue that keeps his Hylian half and vampire half together to make one mostly functional person. This is why he can pretty much fall asleep immediately if he’s injured but also had some blood.

The fluffy bat thing is a plan but hasn’t happened yet. It’s not a vampire thing in this AU (it is a nod to it at least?) nor is it his shadow crystal form. It’s wizzrobe bullshittery that he actually saw some use in so he begged Lana for some way to have regular access to a bat form. It’s probably some sort of jewellery. I wrote a very small snippet about Four throwing a tiny bat Warriors into the air to help him figure out lift. Of course, he’s a vampire bat because they can run on the ground and I think that’s pretty neat. Go look up a zoo feeding them blood, they just run on the ground and take little sippies out of a bowl.

And finally, the inspiration for this AU is a movie from the 80s called The Lost Boys. It inspired his appearance a little bit (he’s got the same yellow and red eyes). Lore wise, some of the abilities made it over but I used a lot of different inspirations for this AU and of course, I had to try to remix it fit Zelda too. The Lost Boys is the first inspiration though because I was in that rabbit hole when I wrote the first chapter.

[a-little-revolution]

Hi - I'm a relatively new follower, but I love the variety in what you put out.

I work in healthcare and regularly give talks on very basic disability concepts (why eugenics is wrong, how to get AAC access in hospitals, shut the hell up about parents' rights, don't use slurs in educational talks, etc.).

Is there anything you'd recommend specifically for doctors, nurses, and other care providers in terms of a) not creating problems, and b) actually providing quality healthcare for little people? Assume the target audience knows nothing.

Hello! Welcome!! Thank you so much, I try ^^

I gave a talk a while ago on trans inclusive healthcare, and included a lot of disability related things since there's plenty of intersection. As I'm sure you know, the medical system still has a long way to go when it comes to treating disabled folk (and frankly anyone who isn't a thin, white, cishet male).

With dwarfism specifically, the learning curve is astronomical - here's my thoughts: (And note, I am someone who's had roughly fourteen surgeries, countless scans, and endless doctors visits - so I think I can call myself an expert lol)

The first thing is just establishing basic knowledge on dwarfism - how it presents in a person, how it affects mobility and range of motion, what the terminology is etc. Knowing the related conditions is vital as well - my Achondroplasia for instance comes with sleep apnea, respiratory conditions, arthritis, club foot, loose knees, etc. I'm often the expert on my own condition, but I shouldn't have to be relied on as a teacher in traumatic situations.

Make waiting rooms, doctor's offices, surgical rooms, etc. accessible to those bellow 5 feet! Most of the time I cannot get up on an exam table as they are too high and I am not provided a stool without making a special request. The same goes for xray tables, gurneys, etc. I cannot express the frustration of coming into every medical room and not being able to sit or lay down without assistance.

Respect and autonomy are big things that get missed - assumptions that my life isn't worth living, that my pain isn't real, that I don't participate in daily activities, that I don't have sex or want children etc. are just some of the misconceptions I come across with medical professionals and their assistants. Last year during and x-ray was the first time a medical professional ASKED before touching me.

For now this is what I can think of, I thank you for your patience as I do have CPTSD from my medical trauma. I've talked more on being a patient with dwarfism here! Hope this helps!

-Elliot (they/them)

[mazzystar24]

https://www.tumblr.com/mazzystar24/753840651375869952/no-one-can-say-they-love-their-pet-more-than-me

this is literally eddie diaz if he had a cat

that man is so “yes im a cat dad, yes im allergic to cats, we exist” coded its not even funny

I actually am fully accepting this headcanon

Me and Eddie Diaz are like this🤞🤞🤞

Also a few things that I feel you’ll appreciate abt my cat and me:

• he runs out and when he comes back I’ll start calling him a little whore (affectionate)

• he’s a black cat (me and my family love black cats and my sister even has one) and a rescue and we got him like 9 years ago and his backstory is actually super sad, cos he is a black cat and like a straight haired cat and he doesn’t like other cats but loves people, when we went to get him the animal rescue had been planning on putting him down cos no one wanted him, like they booked an appointment for him and everything.

also the name they gave him was a character from game of thrones that was like the outcast and stuff (and they told us that was why they gave him that name) - he has a new name now dw 🫡

• I have a baby sister and she is OBSESSED with him but she’s only a year and half old so she gets a little OVEREXCITED and starts like happy screaming at him and like trying to “hug” him (grab his neck) or trying to play with him (throw her various toys at him) or share her food with him (run after him with tortilla chips while shouting the word she uses for food) and chasing him around the house and stuff like that (dw she never actually injured him and we try to stop her as much as possible and she’s getting better with it) and what you all need to give him virtual strokes over is that he is the most patient cat on earth and will like visibly stop himself from reacting and will instead go to somewhere she can’t reach if he gets fed up

• this is perhaps the cutest thing you’ll ever hear- so my baby sister has breathing issues (similar to sleep apnea) and so sometimes in the night she’ll stop breathing for a few seconds and when she does THE CAT GETS UP AND STARTS MEOWING NEXT TO MY MOMS HEAD OR LIKE WILL STAND NEXT TO THEM UNTIL MY SISTER IS ALRIGHT AGAIN

• also he loves her sm he keeps wanting to sleep and cuddle on her in bed but obviously that’s risky so he’s not allowed

Anyways all these things are reasons Eddie Diaz would love my cat and why me and my cat are Eddie and his fanfic cat coded, Thank you for coming to my ted talk🫡

Also in another life Eddie Diaz was a wlw and I will not take criticisms on that statement

[sirfrogsworth]

I know phone customer service people have to put up with a lot. And I always try to be kind and reasonable.

But sometimes people just suck.

I am trying to order new CPAP supplies because my mask broke and it is currently held together with duct tape. And it's been a while so they said they needed a new prescription. It would take two days to process it. So I called back in 3 days.

I get a new woman this time and she says I need "chart notes" along with my prescription. So I call my doctor's office and say I need chart notes. She says "okay" and I assumed she faxed them over.

I call the CPAP lady about an hour later and I ask, did you receive the chart notes? She says "yes" but it was not what she needed. So I ask, "Okay, can you tell me what chart notes are so I can explain what you need?" She just says again, "They are chart notes." And I'm like, "Okay, but can you give me an example of a note so I can explain it?" She responds, "No."

My phone anxiety goes to 11 at this point.

I explain that clearly the doctor's office lady didn't understand what was needed. So I need more information about what chart notes are. She once again repeats, "She should know what chart notes are. Just ask for chart notes."

ahhhhhhhhhhhh

"Okay, can you call the doctor's office and just ask for what you need directly?"

"I will not do that."

"Can she call you and ask what you need."

"No I will not talk to her."

I start crying out of frustration.

She let out an angry sigh that she clearly wanted me to hear.

"Look, she clearly made a mistake. People make mistakes. Just call her back and tell her to send chart notes."

I try to apologize for getting upset. I explain that I am not good on the phone and get anxiety. She gives another angry sigh. I say, "Look, I've called about 5 different people by now, I have a broken CPAP mask I need replaced and I am clearly not getting anywhere. All I'm asking is that you give me a general example of what constitutes a chart note so I can be assured when I call another person, I can give her the information she needs. Can you please just give me an example?"

FINALLY, she explains what a goddamn chart note is. She said it is doctor's notes talking about the CPAP machine and how it is benefiting my sleep apnea.

Was it really necessary to go through all of that to get that answer?

Then I call my doctor's office back and she says, "Oh, I haven't faxed that yet. It's buried pretty deep in your chart and it will take a little time to find."

So it turns out that entire phone call was unnecessary and the CPAP lady was incorrect about receiving a recent fax.

AHHHHHHHHHHHH

There is a reason I have telephobia.

[lvrboy-inc]

I Lost My Mind in the Sakura Flowers ꫂ ၴႅ

“PRETTY WHEN U CRY” — PLVTINUM

꒰: Précis | A first person POV, dipping into the mind of a melancholic young man who is just a bit..off. Is he really above all of the chaos that is his life? Or is it all just another façade in which he’s also fooled himself this time..

꒰: Disclaimer(s) | This act contains strong language, manipulation.. [Loser behavior] Tread carefully~!!

꒰: Word Count ; 4.2k

꒰: Sakura Flowers—All Acts ; Here

Act 5

Hangovers had never been something I dealt with easily. Having drank so much the night previous, my head was pounding in a way that served to rattle my thoughts. Although I came on my own, I had to call one of my friends who happened to be attending the party to drive me home.

I couldn’t have asked Allison for..obvious reasons. But Jayson was open and ready to help when I’d sent him the, ‘Too drunk to drive home’ text, luckily pulling him away from the event that was getting too out of hand in his own words.

The ride home was silent for the most part, the low rumbling of the car making a slight calm in the sea of emotions that were making waves in my heart. It didn’t take but a few short glances for him to notice the bite marks on my neck to which he asked, “Woah, you and Ali have a good time tonight?” His tone was lighthearted and filled with amusement.

My stone-cold stare was enough to give away the fact I wasn’t happy at the aspect of it. “Yeah. She got a little wild.” Was the only response I could muster without giving away the fact she hadn’t even been involved in the making of it.

He gave a smirk as he patted me on my shoulder. “Ah, don’t worry ‘bout it man. Listen, if she bites too hard you could always gag her.” I know his words were meant to lighten up the mood but I let out a long groan, slumping down into my seat as I put my hands over my face.

By that time I think he’d gotten the message and his eyes focused back on the road with a heavy sigh.

Finally, peace and quiet.

Once we’d gotten back to my parent’s place, he helped me stumble up to the doorstep, trying to sober me up enough to seem presentable in front of whoever could’ve possibly been up. It was late already and my parents tended to turn in early so I wasn’t expecting either of them to be awake—but you could never be too careful.

Jayson did one final wellness check before handing me my wallet which I’d left in the passenger seat. “Take care, man. Call me if something comes up, you know I’ll be there.” He sealed his words with a light tap of his fist to my chest before walking down the driveway and back to his car that was parked at the side of the road.

I turned back to my front door, leaning my head against it with a long breath before rummaging through my pocket and fishing out my house keys. I was struggling more than I would’ve liked to admit trying to even get it to fit in the keyhole. No, like, an unnatural amount of struggle—ah, maybe because it wasn’t even the right key.

Noticing my mistake, I flipped through and finally found the right one, shoving it into the lock with a crunch of its teeth against the pins inside before giving a light twist and pushing the door open.

Being greeted by the silence once more, it was actually relieving now. Well, besides the gutteral sound of my father’s sleep apnea ravaging his throat whilst he lie fast asleep on the couch. The remote had fallen to the floor and the television was left on. I moved to turn the TV off, setting the remote down on the coffee table and leaving him in the darkness of the now silent living room.

I wondered if they had even noticed I left. Probably not..but it was a nice thought.

My feet carried me softly upstairs as I watched the framed pictures of our family pass me by. One that caught my eyes was the one that rested in the clearing just before the second set of stairs, surrounded by other nature-like photos.

Catching sight of it, I paused in my tracks, standing up at a bit more attention as my fingers reached out to graze over the smooth glass that enclosed the memory behind it. There, standing proudly was a picture of the all-american dream; my father holding me—a much younger, perhaps eight or so—on his shoulders. All the while, I held onto my mother’s hand. Surprisingly, I remembered that day vividly.

In fact, it had rained terribly just half an hour after it was taken.

She looked so youthful and carefree. It was long before she’d began to work that dead end job and after she and my father had gotten married. Even my father’s features were missing the blankness that I had gotten used to. His harsh wrinkles replaced by subtle ones and his beard that now grew grey was a coursing, strong black.

Then my eyes traced back up from my parents, and landing on my own face. Out of all the times I’d walked up and down these damned stairs and the photo just seemed like a commonality—but now analyzing it in so much depth, there was a sense of longing..of loss that now festered deep within my soul.

My face had been so soft and rounded, a perfect accent to my big, black, doe eyes that were slightly overshadowed by my brunette and subtle curls. Instinctively, my fingers came up to my own hair, running them loosely through—it had changed. Everything about me had changed.

Not only my features sharpening and turning much more emasculated but my eyes had grown cold and piercing; devoid of all that childlike whimsy. The warm glow that my hair once emanated was now masked by a strict dying schedule and a straightener ran through here and there.

I didn’t want to dwell on the picture too long..I already felt like some sort of specter walking down a hallway of memories that had long abandoned me rather than I, them.

That brings me back to the present.

The morning after was serene. As I didn’t have to get up earlier for school, I was permitted the grace of sleeping in, letting reality pass by whilst my eyes held me under the blanket of a peaceful rest.

But when I finally stirred awake, the throbbing in my temples was too powerful to ignore. Not only that but as I remained buried in my sheets, I reached over to grab my phone resting on my nightstand.

32 missed texts. 16 missed calls.

Fuck.

It wasn’t hard to navigate who they came from, each and every one of them coming from Allison. Taking a while to recall why exactly this would be happening, it finally dawned on me. Despite my night having been whisked up in Marko’s actions, mine had left Allison with a sense of guilt and utter separation anxiety.

Opening up my screen and clicking open our message box, I had to scroll a bit before getting to the top. God, this was a mess.

Allison: Azuuuu

Where did you go?

Can’t find you..did you go to the bathroom?

I’m sorry for what happened..it wasn’t my place to speak on it..please don’t be mad at me.

Call me?

The party is almost over..did you go home???

Pleaseeee let me know if you made it back safe!!

Azura, please, are you that upset? I promise I won’t do it again just forgive me.

Please don’t ignore me, I love you.

That, piled onto a plethora of other desperate begging and pleading messages ran throughout the bubbles filling our chat log. It was so fucking annoying. Like a dog that had been left for work by their owner, simply not grasping the concept that they’d be back.

Then, it went onto the voicemails.

“Hey, Azu, Julia said she’s sorry for bringing that up but she didn’t mean anything by it you know? It was just a mistake, we’re all drunk and it’s bound for some words to slip out..call me back.” The first.

“It’s getting kinda boring without you here..I don’t know where you went so just respond to my texts?” The second.

“I’m really, really sorry,” The beginning of the third played and just as I was about to click off and delete it, her next words interrupted that. “I know we didn’t start off traditionally..at all. But you’re my everything. I don’t want to lose you because I’m..not enough..” Her voice trembled and almost broke as she uttered the last two words.

I could hear the faint background noise of the party raging on; she must’ve stepped outside just to make the message. Then..she began to cry. “I want to be enough for you. I want to be your everything too..but you don’t let me in. I can see it, the way you’re so guarded around me, that look in your eyes when you’re going through so much that you won’t let me know..” My jaw clenched as I simply buried my face into the pillow, sighing heavily into the thin fabric.

“I’m probably just too drunk to be even talking right now but..it feels like you’re not even mine sometimes,” That did it. “Just let me in, Azu. I promise I won’t break your heart or do anything of the sort but please, just..please. Let’s fix this between us.”

Then the soft click came from the phone, signaling the end of the message. This entire thing was such a wreck..I am such a wreck.

How could she think any of this was her fault?

There were a multitude of other voice messages that I didn’t even bother clicking through but I knew they’d all run along the same lines as the last. But even amidst my own isolation, she still found some way to blame herself for wanting to stay with me, for wanting more in the relationship, for wanting someone who was actually hers. For a moment, I could’ve sworn she sounded just like my mother.

I knew I had to get my shit together and fast, but in all honesty? That could all wait for Monday. What I needed now was a nice peppermint tea and some tylenol—or maybe straight morphine.

And so, I did just that. Spending the rest of the day in idleness, reading and catching up on some work that I hadn’t bothered to keep up with during the time of my punishment for the altercation in gym class. It was nice to get away from the constant war that seemed to be my life now and take a refreshing drink of fresh air and a sense of productivity that I missed terribly.

My mother and I spoke later in the afternoon. She was clearly choosing to ignore what had went down just a night or so ago and was mainly focused on asking me how the party had went—while she had advocated for me getting out and hanging out with people my age, my father had been more than reluctant to let me go anywhere since my ‘disrespectful tongue’ couldn’t be held. But I pressed and he caved.

Giving her the smallest bit of details as to what happened, she was ecstatic to hear that Allison had invited me out in the first place.

“She’s such a good girl, you really found a keeper there, Azura.” She chimed as she was perched on the couch, typing away at her laptop and, as always, knee-deep in her workly duties. I didn’t give her any sort of pushback but instead just nodded and gave a dry agreement.

Then, the next thing I knew, night had come along..the weekends always seemed like 30-minute breaks when I really needed them to feel longer. But before bed, I gave myself a slight pep talk for how I was to handle the next day.

Finally, it came. I woke up and for once, I wasn’t so caught up in my routine that it was almost mechanical, instead just savoring each moment of the morning before I’d be shoved off of the cliff and back into the cold, icy waters of my life.

The ride to school was just as dormant and stagnant as the lingering, mild headache that I had. Luckily, the driver was an older man, looking about in his 60s or so that hated small talk as much as I did. We said our greetings, confirmed my identity and I was nestled in the back of the car, letting the coolness of the window contrast against the skin of my forehead as it seemed to wash away the underlying tension in my muscles.

Letting out a soft sigh, I found myself dozing off for a bit before being lightly jolted awake by the driver who informed me we had arrived. Waking myself up some more, I nodded and fixed my slightly tousled hair before sliding out of the vehicle and shutting the door. I was about to inform him of his tip but he was already gone by the time I had looked back. Whatever, he’ll see the notification, I thought, sending him my tip on the app and holding my phone out in my hand for a moment.

My eyes immediately scanned around for Allison, expecting to see her outside with her little friends as always but..she wasn’t there. Expected. I wouldn’t want to see someone who essentially ghosted me either; even if it wasn’t entirely on purpose. No matter..

I shot her a quick text.

You: I’m at school. Meet me in the old section after the day ends. Need to talk.

And with that, I went about the rest of my day.

It was sort of..odd. As I’d usually accompany Allison from class to class, it was strange the fact that I didn’t see her at any time of the day. She was..avoiding me. Like, seriously avoiding me. Just moments before I would arrive anywhere she went, someone would say ‘You just missed her’ or ‘She had to go’, all followed by shrugs.

What stupid game was she playing?

Marko hadn’t shown up for school—I noted in my English class as I stared at the empty desk where he should’ve been. Guess he couldn’t handle his liquor that well..or maybe he was trying to ignore his problems..problem, too.

The entire atmosphere of the school seemed off to me for the whole day. Not that anyone else found anything amiss but I was left in a state of unease even as I was wiping down counters in the cafeteria’s kitchen and even as I swept through the halls for my last period. Thankfully, there were only a few more days left in my punishment so I was content in just ‘serving my time’ and going back to my daily schedule.

When the bell rang and the hallways began to be flooded by hurried footsteps and the ample chatter among students leaving for home, heading to buses, going to their parents parked outside and getting into their own cars, I went back to the janitor’s closet, setting the broom down inside. Wiping my brow, I looked at the time and made haste in making my way back to my locker, grabbing my belongings and slithering off through the back corridors.

The doorways to the old section of the school building.

Whilst I walked, the lockers got more worn, some of them rusted and peeled from years of unuse. My footsteps, once drowned among the sea of others were quickly isolated as I walked down the darkened halls of the older parts of the school.

Subtly echoing through the corridors, I finally arrived at an empty classroom. It was riddled with dust that I swiped up with my fingers and rubbed between the tips before dropping it down to the ground. “What a dump..” I muttered to myself. No wonder my mother was so humble—I’d be too if I went to this place every day as a child.

I set my bag down, hopping up on the wooden desk that creaked under my weight—a testament to its age—and began the waiting game for Allison’s arrival.

Even as I sat contently, there was a bad feeling that was eating up my insides. What if she really didn’t show? No..she always showed. If she was on her deathbed and I asked her to bring me a glass of water; she’d show. So now it wouldn't be any different. I had to reassure myself, thinking she was only delayed.

There I sat, for what seemed like ages before I was getting ready to leave. “What a waste of time..” I grumbled before reaching for my bag.

Just as I did, the door slowly opened on its squeaky hinges to which a knowing smirk played across my lips. Atta girl.

“Ali, hey. Long time no see?” I guess it was sort of inappropriate to greet her that way after everything that had gone down but regardless, I had no shame. “Sorry for not returning your calls Saturday, got a little too indulgent, y’know—” My words were cut off by a swift slap to my face. “The fuck..?”

I turned back to look at her—those same bright eyes having been overcast with the threat of tears that loomed. Her face was contorted into a strong pout as her other hand was clenched into a fist. “Do you know how worried sick I was over you, Azu? I went around that party more than 5 times asking anyone if they’d seen you, just to know if you were even okay.”

Her voice caught in her throat as I watched her trying to swallow down the lump that was forming there. “You didn’t call back, you didn’t text back, and all throughout Sunday I didn’t hear a single word!” Great. Now here come the fucking dramatics.

“Oh right, because it’s my fault that you can’t go two fucking seconds, that you can’t even breathe without me being there? Listen to yourself.” My voice had dropped to a cold and firm bite as I buried my hands into my pockets. “I’m standing here right in front of you now, so obviously I’m fine. What more can you ask for?”

She let out a long huff of frustration, loud and strained as she came closer, taking my face up into her hands. Instantly, my eyes narrowed at her. More of this fucking physical contact..

By now Allison’s eyes had welled up, bordering on letting those salty diamonds fall freely. “I’m asking for a boyfriend who can give me the common courtesy of letting me know when he’s sick of the party. I’m asking for a boyfriend that isn’t too cut-off from life to share his emotions with me. I’m asking for someone who actually loves me and doesn’t just tolerate me to spare my feelings!”

My gaze darted off to the side as I let out a small sigh.

“Fucking look at me, Azura!” She snapped. With an air of annoyance, I did, only returning her hold on me in my own manner. My hands came up to grab ahold of both sides of her face as I peered down into her eyes. As much as it would’ve made me sick and twisted..seeing her so high strung, so emotional and on the verge of losing it..was making her more attractive than anything she’d shown me before.

The intimacy of the moment was palpable as, like before, our breaths mixed together, seeming like the only thread of connection that was holding us right now. “If you don’t want to be with me, say that. If you want me to stay, fucking say that. But don’t just give me the same silence,” Her words had begun to sound less like demands and bordering on pleas as her tone wavered. “I’ll go insane if you don’t just say something—”

She stopped.

There was a brief second of observation before her hands fell down from my face, then moving to brush aside the collar of my uniform. And that was when I actually remembered just why I had left Saturday night.

“Azu..Azura..” I watched all of that conviction leave her features as she took in the sight that had been laid out before her eyes. “What..what is that? What is this..? I don’t..” Finally, those salty droplets began to fall from her eyes in a way that made mine roll. “I don’t understand..”

Her look of realization was laced with contemplation, rethinking every little thing. “You cheated-? But..that’s not..that’s not like you. You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t do that to me..because you love me! I know you do!” She yelled, clearly trying to convince herself more than anyone else present.

It was at that moment that I realized our little trial run had reached its end and honestly..? I definitely didn’t want to renew it. All of this time, she served her purpose well; acting as cover and a reliable source of information and a way to cure my boredom. Only now, she had reached the end of her role and my patience.

Watching as she steadily became swallowed up in her tearful fit, I used my index and thumb to catch her chin between them. I tilted her face up to mine, starting off with that warm and caring expression; the one that had made her fall in the first place, the one that had comforted her when she had a falling out with her parents, the one that she had grown to adore and admire more than anything else.

It all sank as my voice dropped to one that was colder than any winter. “This, Allison..is the end of us.” My words were clean and delivered swiftly. She tried to pull away but I used my free hand to get a digging grip in the back of her neck, letting my fingers lace through her hair as I tugged on it enough to force our eye contact.

“You don’t understand because you can’t. You can’t fathom the fact that maybe, just maybe, all of those nights you spent crying out your pathetic woes in my arms; all the insignificant gifts you bought for me, the plethora I gave to you..” I leaned in closer, staring her dead in her eyes that were now filled with a hint of fright. “Every fucking time you came for me..was never real to me.”

My lips hovered over hers, as if imitating a kiss just by breathing shallow breaths. “You’re the most boring girl I’ve ever met, Allison Yasan. I can’t stand you, in fact.” I admitted, feeling her fresh manicure begin to scratch at my wrists as she miserably failed at trying to gain the upper hand.

“Your voice, your pathetic attitude, the mere mention of you gives me a mild migraine.” By now, my face had fallen into one that was stony and hard. Finally, fucking finally. It’s happening. After so goddamn long.. “You viewed me as this prince charming, but you want to know how I saw you?”

I breathed against her skin, leaning in to whisper deep into her ear as my grip on her face moved to the underside hinges of her jaw. “Nothing but a whiny mutt who couldn’t wait to get even the slightest ounce of validation, recognition, of love from someone who never planned on giving it.”

With that, I pulled back, keeping her face in my grasp, seeing how her slow drips had begun to descend into a full fit of sobs at my words. She was a mess. She was fucking ruined and it was all because of me.

This is what true love must’ve felt like.

“Didn’t I make you feel so fucking loved, Ali? Even though you now know I never did, your stupid fucking head is racing with all those good deeds and sweet nothings I whispered to you..you’re such a beautiful mess.” My fingers loosened their grip on her as I stepped away, carding my fingers through my hair and letting my head lean backwards with a sigh that sounded relieved.

By now, she was in hysterics, choking on her own tears and trying to keep her nose from blocking up her breathing patterns. I simply sat back and reveled in the sight, the sounds, of pure heartbreak.

“This was a nice pastime,” I began, tilting my head off at an angle as I regained my stoicism, giving her a charming smile. “But I’m sure there’s more than enough fish in the sea, right? You just happened to pick a piranha.”

As if she had suddenly gained consciousness, I observed her movements; covering up her face and trying to quell the floodgate of emotions that had piled up and spilled out in front of me. It didn’t take long for her to turn on her heel and dart out of the classroom, slamming the door in a way that threatened to topple over one of the cheap shelves—amazing to still be standing—leaving me alone in the empty room.

After an agonizingly long wait for a cut loose, I had it. And by God did it feel fucking amazing.

I moved to gather my things and briskly left the classroom, realizing I would have to explain to my mother why I’d been so late.

A/N: Boo! Woah, my hiatus game is kind of insane…I’ve got a lottt in drafts. Are Azura defenders a thing..? If so, you might wanna hold your shields or somethin’. Consistency era..? (pfft- I crack myself up.) Stay tuned. 🪡

[basiccortez]

Goodnight, Baby - R. Abbott

note: just a cute little Rhett moment. It's actually from a prompts list called 50 wordlesss ways to say 'I love you' and I am tempted to bring it back again. . . also, my requests on this blog are open! read the pinned post for questions:) word count: 630 Rhett Abbott Masterlist

Rhett sighed as he walked into the house, quietly kicking off his boots. It had been a long day of working out in the hot sun, moving cattle and fixing the broken fence on the Abbott Ranch. He had sent you a text telling you not to wait up, that he would be home late. He hated not being home for dinner, or getting ready for bed. It sucked when it was just the two of you, now that there was a baby in the mix.

Jude Elliot Abbott had turned one a couple months, and Rhett felt like he had missed most of his life already. There were milestones that Rhett had missed due to being on the road for competitions or moving cattle. He hated it. You had told him over and over again that it was okay, that Jude wouldn’t even know the difference if Rhett was there or not. It still didn’t help Rhett feel any better. 

He moved around the kitchen quietly as he warmed up the plate of food you had left for him. He smiled at the new picture on the fridge that looked like Jude had drawn at daycare. The front of their fridge had become covered in pictures of Jude and them, pictures Jude had scribbled at daycare, or projects they had him do. Rhett cherished every single picture like it was a masterpiece.

When Rhett was done eating, he walked up the stairs quietly, looking at the various family pictures that littered the walls as he walked to the bedroom. He smiled at your sleeping frame as he moved around in the half lit room, taking off his clothes and putting on something more comfortable. He washed his face and brushed his teeth, and hung up the wet towels that you left on the floor after Jude’s bath. He walked over to you, and gently ran his hand over your hair, and leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek. 

You moved slightly at the feeling of his body, and gave him a sleepy smile, “Mm, welcome home.” 

“Hi,” Rhett whispered and leaned back down to kiss your lips, “How was your day?” 

“Good. Jude drew a new picture at daycare.” 

“I saw. Might need him to draw my new base drum cover.” 

You let out a tired chuckle, “You eat?” 

“Yeah,” Rhett nodded, “Go back to sleep, I’m gonna go check on our boy,” You nodded and Rhett kissed your lips once more  before he walked down the hallway to his little boy’s room. 

His heart felt warm as he walked into the room, and could see his son’s sleeping face, with his thumb tucked into his mouth. Jude was fast asleep on his back, small little sighs leaving his mouth as he slept. Rhett crept over to his crib, leaning over it as he watched the little boy sleep soundly. He watched his chest rise and fall, still scared that he was going to have a lapse in breathing. Jude had finally grown out of his sleep apnea, but it didn’t stop Rhett from still being worried about it. 

Rhett sighed and leaned his head on his arms, closing them for a second when he heard Jude stir. Rhett picked his head up quickly and watched as the little boy moved around, readjusting to get more comfortable, and shifting the soft blanket that covered him. Once Jude was settled back into sleep, a deep sigh leaving his mouth, Rhett fixed the baby blanket, slightly tucking him back in. Rhett gently patted the back of his head, feeling his soft brown curls, and then leaned in to kiss his head. 

“Goodnight, baby,” Rhett said, and left the room to go lay down next to his wife.

-- -- --

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[salamanderinspace]

So tests came back and I do have "mild" sleep apnea, doc says, which apparently means I stop breathing 15 times per hour, and my pulseox goes down to 86. This all sounds pretty bad to me but I've been assured it's mild. At some point the cpap people are going to call me; I guess I get a free trial of the thing for 90 days. I'm pretty pleased about that.

I've been keeping busy this week, working a lot. I've gone to some museums and galleries, talked a lot, made connections. I have a show with my work opening Saturday night here, downtown. I'm making new work too, pretty furiously. It turns out I function very differently when there are not five dog walks and two dog feedings and constant dog "pay attention to me mommy" all day long. At first there was a sort of euphoria as the weight of all that came off my shoulders. Of course I do miss her. I cried so much when she passed that my electrolytes got all messed up and I had a seizure. I'm kind of expecting changes, health-wise, since my daily schedule is so different now. I can really get immersed in work. I can eat a big meal and then sit a few minutes without having to rush off and do the dog. I worry about losing any strength conditioning or fitness I might've gained from walking her, so I've added in more exercises. Overall though my attention span feels so much stronger than it was, now that I can actually make my own plans and do them without being responsible for a very social creature. And the cat is there when I want someone to fuss over.

And husband of course. He's a brick. There are many ways we make good partners. There is only one little piece of me that doesn't quite fit with him, that he doesn't particular want or need anyway. About a month ago I wrested that piece of me away from a place it has not been safe. I don't know if anything is changed, really. I don't like to write about her here because I know she reads this blog sometimes--seems tacky--but I write my feelings here for a reason. I like having a record. It makes things feel more solid. It makes me less alone with everything. And it being all in one place, organized, is helpful. Often I write things elsewhere and then find them, months later, completely having forgotten about them. Not this blog though.

One of the main diagnostic criteria of autism is adhering to rigid routines or repetitive thought patterns. This is not something I associate with me. I love adventure and change and challenge and pizzazz and variety and novelty. I need everyday to be different--I don't even like to eat the same foods. But with relationships, they sort of sink into me and stain deep. Maybe the impetus to write fanfiction comes from that same, "I'm not done with this yet" sort of feeling. Maybe it's a reluctance to trust something new. Most people don't let the deepest part of themselves adhere to just anything, just anyone… I feel like I pick people who are sometimes nice and sometimes mean. Complex. Disorganized. Skeptical. Intense. And overtime the niceness drains away as they come to understand and process who I really am. (just some guy.) (Just a lady.) (Pretty good at art and creative stuff.) (Incurably American.) (Paranoid millennial.) (Used to have a dog.) (Interested in science and politics.) (Chronically ill.) (Sleepy, but maybe that will change when they put the machine on my face.)

[sparkylurkdragon]

Phoenix continues to make small inroads into the mysteries of the human's bed.

Today I took a nap from about three to seven, with Miss Urist curled up with me, and was debating just calling it a night when Phoenix came over to Solicit Pats from beside the bed. Since I was on my back, he hopped up and was being cuddly and groomy and getting all of the lovely pats and scritches as he danced on my chest.

After this he investigated Urist, groomed her a bit, then one or the other decided it was playtime (...Probably Feenie but I couldn't quite see them) and they batted at each other a little before getting off the bed. I ended up getting up for a bit as well.

I have mild sleep apnea and can't sleep on my back for long, but it was nice that he felt comfortable in the bed for a little!

[hampop]

.

I don’t have anywhere else to vocalize this so. The birth process was traumatizing. I didn’t really want to induce but was told I should. Go in at 7am on the fifth and they give me pills to soften my cervix and I lay in a hospital bed for a full day while they monitor me and my son. That night my water breaks and they start me on pitocin to induce the labor.

I labor for 18 hours.

The contractions are inconsistent. Some are brief and others long. Most are very painful. Every couple hours a nurse comes in to check my cervix which hurts unimaginably. I find out each time I’ve only dilated a little bit, much slower than they’d like me to be. I am in a dizzying pain, I ask for an epidural way sooner than I wanted to. The entry point is in my spine. My husband holds me while I cry like I haven’t since I was a baby and a whole team of nurses coaches me through to pain. Epidural kicks in. I feel ok for a while. Catheter gets put in. Nurses realize I’m not creating urine. They encourage me to just drink more water. I labor another several hours. No one says anything to me about what is going on behind the scenes—that my kidneys are experiencing acute trauma due to lack of water, that my body’s sodium is fucked. I’m crying and shaking and at 10pm on the second night the doctor comes in and tells me that my body rejects pitocin and has been sending fluid to other parts of my body as a reaction. They have been speculating what is wrong with me for hours, knowing something was wrong but not what. Multiple doctors across the country are contacted. They turn the pitocin off after nearly 18 hours of it. The doctor tells me the pitocin isn’t working and my baby isn’t going to be born naturally and that we need to get him out asap or we might both die. I agree to the c section. I didn’t want one, but I had to have it. They still call it elective and not emergency.

I am wheeled into a sterile white room, crying, while a team of surgeons preps for the surgery. I weigh too much. I, still experiencing labor pain, have to roll myself onto the operating table. They strap me down. I don’t get to see my husband for a while. They start giving me drugs to numb me from the neck down. This makes my lungs go numb. I have to actively try to breathe. My husband comes in and holds my hand. I can’t breathe. They put an oxygen mask on me. I vomit into it. I can feel them cutting me open though I don’t feel the pain. I vomit three more times. They deliver my baby and I start sobbing at his cries and I can’t touch him because my body is numb. My husband leaves my side to tend to the baby and is excitedly giving me information while I continue to vomit. They give me a drug to knock me out entirely. They don’t tell me this before they do it. I have sleep apnea. I stop breathing multiple times. I don’t really remember the birth of my baby.

I wake up and two surgeons are above me sewing me up. I ask if I’m ok. They ignore me. I’m hallucinating, thinking I’m speaking when I’m not. They congratulate me and the team rolls me into the hall, laughing and celebrating while I am genuinely convinced I died on the table. Nothing feels real. They roll me into my room and my husband is in the corner, holding our baby. I still think I’m dead. He goes to bring the baby to me, the nurses take my baby and run some more tests. My husband comes over to check on me. I ask if I’m dead. He says I’m not. I don’t believe him. The nurse comes over to finally hand me my baby. I start crying, I reach my arms out. She forgets something and turns around, taking him away just before I can reach him. I’m too tired to say anything. I finally get to hold him and before I can even process anything, a team of nurses comes over and starts trying to teach me how to breastfeed. I am high as a kite, my baby is rejecting my breast, I still think I’m dead. Someone takes him from me at some point and I am told to go to bed. I do. I wake up in horrible pain. The next two days are spent trying to bond with my son while being barely able to move. I’m in a diaper, I’m bleeding profusely. The hospital bed is too high and can’t be lowered so I have to learn to crawl like an animal to get into it. My legs are swollen with the water my body was rejecting. I am told to rest, as I have received a major abdominal surgery. I am also told not to rest, to keep from forming life threatening blood clots. They won’t let me lay down for more than an hour.

I finally leave after four total days. I am terrified of getting pregnant again.

[jasminextea]

100 Pounds Down: A Retrospective

TW: weight loss, surgery, specific numbers

STATS:

F/24/5'5" [273 > 173 = 100 lbs]

How I Did It:

I had bariatric surgery on 12/20/2024. I had a surgery called the SADI.

The Good

The majority of health issues I had as a result of my obesity have reversed. The insulin resistance I've had since I was a preteen - gone. Sleep apnea - gone. My triglycerides went from 280 to 131. My HDL (bad cholesterol) went from 151 (HIGH) to 56.

My ease of movement is so. Much. Easier. I can walk for miles without being phased. No pain in my calves/ankles/etc. I can walk up an inclined sidewalk without even noticing. I went for a run the other day. FOR FUN.

Clothes are of course much easier to find. I love to thrift, but before I almost never found anything worth buying in my size. Now I find stuff almost every time. I love fashion so I'm enjoying this a lot.

The Meh (Not So Bad, Not So Good)

I have a TON of clothes to get rid of. I find clothing selling very tedious and Plato's Closet won't take any of of my stuff

I get more male attention. This would be a plus, but I have a boyfriend, and I've never had to deal with it before, so I just feel awkward. Like I went to the club for my birthday and this man would NOT stop trying to grind on me!!!

The Bad

I have iron deficiency without anemia. It really sucks. However I did have this before I got surgery. It's just harder to correct since my surgery makes it harder to absorb iron. I'm getting an iron infusion next Wednesday tho!!!

My LDL cholesterol (good cholesterol) is a little low.

Loose skin. It drives me crazy. Makes exercising especially hard.

I no longer absorb enough birth control for it to stop my periods, and instead I get a period like every 2 weeks. This is hard because I have heavy periods which make my iron deficiency worse. I also have PMDD and BC basically stopped it. So now I have to seek out an alternative and it's annoying/scary.

In general, it makes medications harder to deal with because I don't absorb them completely, but there isn't a ton of research into exactly how this works. As someone was disabled before finding the right medication, this is very scary. I feel like this risk was not adequately communicated to me pre-surgery.

The Ugly

I've gotten a little too obsessed with my body lately. I've been weighing myself a LOT, body checking constantly, feeling super insecure... my body occupies my thoughts the majority of the time.

Overall

I don't regret getting bariatric surgery, but I do have a lot of work to do still before I can consider myself healthy, both physically and mentally.

[practically-an-x-man]

Who would call your OC their best friend?

Who has your OC made cry?

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc?

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

For Ophelia?

Ooooooh thank you!!

Fandom OC Ask Meme

Who would call your OC their best friend?

While she was growing up, Harry was absolutely her best friend - and while I think his ego would get in the way some of the time, especially while he's in high school and it wouldn't be "cool" to be best friends with a girl two years younger than him, he really did consider her to be one of his best friends. I mean, they were basically siblings, they grew up together, they were incredibly close.

Peter 2 is also included in that crowd: he met her a little later, and for a while had only heard of her tangentially through Harry, but in adulthood they get a lot closer. I think he'd refer to her as his best friend for two reasons: genuinely, of course, they are close, but also because Ophelia's lonely and he wants to remind her that he cares about her.

And Peter 3's absolutely got that "I'm in love with my best friend" dynamic, he's totally smitten.

Who has your OC made cry?

She's had a lot of trouble in her past relationships, honestly. She tried her best, don't get me wrong, but she had a lot of unresolved grief and tended to fall into her work or grow distant when she should have been there for her partner, and that was a difficult thing for both of them. Those were a tough few years.

Did your OC bear witness to anyone’s full character arc?

She witnessed a good amount of Harry's arc, having grown up with him, though she missed some of the end because she was away at college (and regrets it to this day... part of her still thinks she could have saved him if she'd been there)

What is the worst thing your OC does in their story?

Hm... that's a tough one. She's a tough person, even on the verge of callous at certain times, but as a whole she tries to do good things. Most of the things she considers her worst deeds really weren't her fault - not thinking to double-check her father's calculations before his tritium reactor test, not answering Harry's voicemail before his death, going to check on Ned and MJ rather than staying with May during the NWH plot, accidentally leading a supervillain to her apartment where he turned off her girlfriend's sleep apnea device, etc.

As a whole, she tends to feel more guilt about inaction, even when there was no way she could have known what to do at the time. In terms of actual deeds, good versus bad, she's got a moral compass so strict it's almost suffocating (largely because of guilt and grief she never processed...)

[vvatchword]

For a long time I experienced day-killing, life-ruining sinus headaches. They would absolutely wreck me. They'd knock me out for days at a time. I'd wake up with pain over and behind my eyes. Sometimes it was bad enough that I would throw up. I would have to avoid screens, light, and heat. Others have described these episodes as migraines to me, but I really don't think they are, even now. I never had any of the other migraine symptoms, like auras.

It was relatively easy to blame certain traits--dust storms and high-pollen days being the most obvious. But as to fixing it? Jesus christ i didn't know. So I went on a long trek over a period of 4 years to figure out how to stop these motherfucking headaches.

Early on, I tried pain medication, which only dulled the pain a little; this was par for the course for me, since medication has a reduced effect on me in general. I progressed to sitting in hot showers with the lights turned off. I started using something I called "Magic Drink," a preworkout supplement full of caffeine and amino acids called "NO Xplode" (originally I mixed another amino acid mix in it, and even now I use lemon juice to give it a little substance). This would outright kill lighter episodes. Eventually I began using something called a "Sinuspik" to cleanse my sinuses--think Neti Pot, but with vibrations (god it feels good when your snoot is sad). These solutions were hit and miss, unfortunately. Some days were just so bad that it didn't matter if I used all of them at once.

So I went in for allergy shots. This actually worked, but it didn't solve everything. Mostly, they reduced length and severity of episodes. I still had bad days every two weeks or so.

Found out I had sleep apnea. Got a CPAP machine. Friendos, this was the first big solution: turns out I was snoring and fucking up my sinuses in the night. I was able to reduce episodes dramatically using this.

But STILL! The headaches continued.

The final piece of the puzzle: I have bad anxiety and grind my teeth day and night. Turns out that a combination of my unique bite and my anxiety caused the tension to travel up my teeth into my sinuses. I invested in Invisalign, something I had always rolled my eyes at (lol who gives a fuck about straight teeth amirite). I had to pay for it with my credit card and I'm fucking glad I did: like magic, the episodes completely disappeared. My life may be shitty as fuck but I'm not nauseous and dying of boredom in a dark, quiet room because of it. A combination of corrected bite and effective retainers was all I needed.

The last couple of days I have fallen asleep without my usual protections--the Invisalign retainers and the CPAP--and this forgetfulness has reminded me of my hubris. The solution to my problem was no magic pill: it was multiple solutions. The Invisalign in particular was not something I expected or looked for, and I thought I'd mention it in a public place in case it's a solution you haven't considered.

I never see anyone talking about this, so I wanted to suggest something in case it helps you as much as it helps me.

[ohnococo]

I’d like to argue this: as a 28 year old with rickety bones that crack everytime I’m on top and dating a 30 year old wearing a sleep apnea mask….age is no longer about chronological experience but specific traits and I absolutely would accept the youngin’s calling Nanami and Geto and Gojo dilfs 😭

Oh absolutely, I’m early 30s and have had a recurring shoulder problem and crackling knees since my teens.

And as for the dilf classification, you can be a teenager and have a baby lmao so that’s variable. Whenever we get the “older man 😍/age gap” talk about a late 20s nanami tho I remember we Are Nawt the same ages which is fine but I always think of that “dilfs” cake where there’s, like, Tom holland and timothee chalamet on there 😭

It’s all fiction though and heightened in its own way, but I prefer a little realism so the “older man dilf” fics don’t always hit the way I want them to. Which is why I can write my own tbf lmao. I like soft bodies, wrinkles, saggy balls, not being able to get it up .2 seconds later.

[celebritieswithemmab]

Shaq can't stop endorsing (seemingly) random things

So what's the pattern?

Like many people, I saw this picture on my social media feed a few years back. The haunting image has stuck with me ever since.

The first time I saw the viral X (formerly known as Twitter) image, I thought it was fake. I assumed it to be the product of Photoshop and nothing more. After all, why would Shaq, a retired professional basketball player, be endorsing a pregnancy test? It has been a long time since I speculated on Shaq's bizarre endorsement but with the birth of this blog, I've been eager to talk about this subject. Shaq's bizarre endorsements range from, yes, pregnancy tests, to executive office seating. None of them seem to make any more sense than the others. So what exactly has Shaq endorsed (it's a lot) and why does it make sense to endorse these brands?

The majority of the time, if a celebrity is going to endorse something, there is a good chance it will have to do with clothing, beauty, or wellness. As celebrities are seen as rare, exclusive, and special, very rarely do you see celebrities endorsing everyday items for the common parts of our lives. If a celebrity endorses an alcohol brand we may buy it for our parties, or wear their makeup when we go out, but the gap between the lives of celebrities and our own is vast. We both may wear shoes and work out, but that's where a lot of the similarities end. Celebrities make for excellent brand endorsers because they have spent their lives specializing in a certain career many people never have the chance to access. This allows them to be perceived to hold a very certain skill set (like how Kim Kardashian, an influencer and reality TV star known for her curvy figure, owns a shape wear brand now valued at over $4 billion). Brands can use the image of celebrities to ad a layer of credibility to their product or service. Shaq first earned his fame on the court, and is no stranger to endorsements for sneakers or basketballs. Yet since his retirement, he has branched out to other unrelated topics.

To start off, Shaq owns more than 150 car washes, 17 Auntie Annie franchises, nine Papa John's franchises (also appearing in their advertising), and has bought and sold enough Five Guy locations to amount to 10% of the entire company.

And those are just some of the franchises he has owned. When it comes to what Shaq has endorsed, the brands are even more plentiful.

Heres a few of my favorite Shaq brand endorsements:

Pregnancy test

Sleep apnea mask

Epson printer cartridges

Executive office chair

Shaq also owns the celebrity likeness of Elvis Presley, Marilyn Monroe, Muhammad Ali, David Beckham, and Julius Erving.

So how did Shaq become the celebrity that can seemingly endorse anything?

To understand that, you must first understand Shaq's personal brand. He appeals to men who are sports fans (specifically basketball). His audience is 75% male, and nearly half of these are aged 25-34. Shaq is brand-safe, and has faced little to no controversy throughout his career. He is incredibly recognizable. Standing at 7'1, it makes his likeness hard to miss (like in the above photo). His energy positions him as lively, youthful, and relatable. Despite his impressive investment portfolio valued at over $100 million, he still appears down-to-earth, and some of his band endorsements fuels this image (more on this later). These all appeal to his main demographic. Some things that stand out to male consumers are a good value proposition, logic, simplicity, and humor.

Imagine this: you are a male, 26 years old, and regularly keep up with sports. You're just beginning your corporate career in accounting and have big plans for your future. Your girlfriend just called you concerned that she missed her latest period. You work through your anxiety and head to the nearest corner store. Standing amongst pads, tampons, and pregnancy tests, you have no idea what to look for. You feel out of place, out of your element, and you can't stop spiraling about how your whole life could change. That's when you see the kind, familiar face of Shaquille O'Neal staring up at you from the box of a pregnancy test. You rejoyce in the presence of something known! Suddenly, the overwhelming array of products with their overwhelming array of promises doesn't seem innavigable anymore. The surprising and out-of-place endorsement is humorous and allows you, finally, to laugh. All of a sudden your serious situation turns silly and ironic. You quickly choose the Shaq pregnancy test, comforted by the knowledge that you get the gift of two free Shaq stickers with purchase.

The strange endorsements Shaq takes on allows the more mundane or scary parts of our lives to be turned into something of a comedy. We recognize the surprise of seeing Shaq, the 7'1 basketball star, endorsing an office chair, but when you're an office executive and your days are filled with excel files, something a bit unusual may be exactly what you need. Especially if your colleagues are sports fans, it would make an excellent conversation starter: I have Shaq's chair. A sleep apnea mask can become Shaq's sleep apnea mask. Your ice pack can become Shaq's ice pack. This means that these products are now seen as truthworthy, strong, long-lasting, valuable, and, most importantly, a bit funny.