You know that episode of iCarly where Carly’s granddad wants her to move to Yakima? And near the end of the episode when she has said goodbye to her older brother, Spencer, who was her guardian, he’s sitting on the couch all sad and jumps up and meets her at the door to their apartment building and hands Carly’s inhaler to her and shes like “My asthma inhaler? I havent needed this since I was really little.” and Spencer says “Take it anyway” and Carly’s like “Really, I don’t need it.” So Spencer turns to their granddad and hands it to him and says “Take it. You know… You never know.” that shit makes me cry just thinking about it. I fucking cant. Like don’t bring that shit up unless youre prepared to see me cry.
Drabbles!!!! Lance wants to get some flowers for his long-awaited date, Keith, so he goes into a flower shop to find a nice bouquet. Except one catch, Lance is very allergic. Like, needing-an-inhaler Very Allergic
hoW DO I DRABBLE THIS OMG??
The date’s been coming together as smoothly as the final pieces of a puzzle displaying a stunning, complex image. Keith and Lance’s relationship had been rocky, for better lack of words. Many assumed they would never be able to work past their differences to even be friends, yet they pushed against all odds, and Keith made the move and asked Lance out once the two had sealed a friendship for a few months.
Lance, of course, had been over the moon when Keith asked, and since then, he’s been plotting the perfect date. All that’s left is to piece together a beautiful bouquet from the local flower shop then he can pick Keith up and whisk his date off to dinner and a movie.
When he opens the door to the flower shop, a small bell chimes over head, and moments later, Shiro pops up from behind a shelf of vases.
Lance has only known Shiro for a few months, but he’s fond of the guy. Shiro’s the type of person who is incredibly easy to talk to, and the two had become quick friends.
“Hey, Shiro. What’s up?” He asks, rubbing absently at his nose as a soft smile plays at his lips.
“I should be asking you that,” Shiro says, motioning toward Lance’s outfit. “Finally got the big date with Keith?”
Lance nods, sniffling quietly as he starts further into the store, fingers ghosting above various flowers. “Yep! I wanted to pick out a bouquet for him.”
“Nah, I’ve got this,” Lance says as he leans forward to closely examine a cluster of red roses. He knows red is Keith’s favorite color, but he’s not sure if roses would be too forward of a gesture. He straightens his back with a slight cough that has him frowning and rubbing gingerly at his throat.
He was feeling fine before, more than fine, yet there’s a persistent itch building in the back of his throat. A brief flash of hot panic shoots across his mind, bringing with it vivid images of childhood days in the hospital after severe allergic reactions that triggered his asthma, but, he thinks to himself, shutting down all memories, it’s been years since he’s had a bad reaction.
Don’t these things fade away with time?
He clears his throat and continues picking through the various flowers, but the itch at the back of his throat begins to burn and grow until he’s turning away to cough into the crook of his arm. He figured one or two coughs and he’d be fine, but the second he starts, he can’t stop. It’s almost as if his lungs cannot take in enough air against a massive, burning lump clogging his throat.
“Lance? Are you okay?”
Looking toward Shiro is a struggle for Lance’s eyes are filled to the brim with tears, but he can still faintly make out the older boy’s worried features. He shakes his head and wraps one hand around his throat. “Can’t,” he wheezes out around rattling coughs. “Breathe.”
“Shit! Okay, hang on!”
Lance nods, watching against hazy vision as Shiro storms to the front of the store. His legs buckle, and he’s slumping toward the floor with harsh, dry coughs that seem to never end.
Lance looks up from his spot on the back of the ambulance to see Keith racing toward him, face deeply flushed and chest heaving as if he’s just run straight from work.
“Keith,” Lance starts as the boy gets closer. “What-”
“Are you alright? Shiro called me and told me everything! What the hell were you doing in a flower shop if you’re severely allergic?”
Lance’s gaze finds the cracked pavement of the small parking lot once more just as his shoulders slump enough to have the small blanket that’s draped over his shoulders slip down some. “I wanted to get you flowers for the date,” he mutters.
For an endless moment, Keith is silent, but Lance cannot find the courage to pull his gaze back up. He’s so sure that this sealed his fate. Why would Keith want to be with him now? Why would-
It’s not the words that have Lance snapping a quick gaze up, it’s the light tone laced with concern. “You aren’t mad,” he says, voice forming a statement and not a question. There’s nothing displayed across Keith’s face that shows anger in the slightest.
“What? No. Jesus, Lance. No. I’m just worried.”
The sincerity in Keith’s tone has Lance’s eyes welling with tears. He struggles to form words, but luckily, he doesn’t have to because Shiro is walking toward them with a bouquet of red roses in his hand.
In an instance, Keith spins on his heel and promptly blocks Lance from the flowers. “Shiro, what-”
Lance leans over to peek around Keith’s protective stance. “What?”
“We have some fake flower in the back,” Shiro explains, handing the bouquet to Keith for inspection.
Lance shifts his gaze to the fake flowers in Keith’s hands. “Thank you,” he whispers, and Shiro offers a quiet nod before taking his leave.
“How about a date in tonight?” Keith suggests, thumbing a fake rose as he turns back to Lance. “I can cook you a nice dinner than we can watch a movie.”
Lance doesn’t want to admit the exhaustion that’s settled over him after this whole ordeal, but Keith can see it without having to ask. Both know Lance wouldn’t make it through the dinner and movie tonight, not after an asthma attack of that severity.
Nodding, Lance slowly slips off the back of the ambulance, abandoning the small blanket in favor of finding Keith’s hand with his own.
Summary: Bucky can’t quite control himself when it comes to you, and he’s not about to change that.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
A/N: i’m disgusting dude :/
WARNINGS: 18+!, dirty talk, masturbation, gagging, spanking, SLIGHT voyeurism, in general it’s nasty and i’m sorry. also! no condom is used in this but that don’t mean you can go around shoving ya dix and fajitas and whatnot anywhere ya want without protection. keep it safe.
Wordcount: 5,400 (no self control? i think so.)
Bucky Barnes was the kind of man to keep things bottled up. He was the kind of man that clutched his fists tight, kept his mouth shut, and dealt with things in his own time. More often than not, his methods of coping with situations gone wrong usually remained orthodox and controlled. He would sit and write until his mind could write no more and it was easier to breathe. Until he could face his team, face you, and function properly.
You were never an easy team member. Stubborn, scrappy in principles and always looking to give him a wild rush. He could almost say he hated working with you. He hated how you were always questioning orders, even if you often had a point, and how he could never concentrate with you around. Bucky Barnes hated the way you made him feel.
Like he wanted to grab a hold of your hair and smash his lips to yours. Like he couldn’t wait to tell you just how crazy you really drove him.
So it was hard, living with you. Often times, he scorned himself for choosing to reside in your second bedroom rather than in Steve’s apartment. He had been given a choice, and Bucky just couldn’t shut down your offer. He wanted to be closer to you, he wanted the rush in his veins when he was around you. It was different from the Avengers compound. There, he wasn’t alone with you. The team was there.
The Dozens of Times Eddie Kapbrak Came Home, and the One Time He Didn’t
(A Story in Sonia’s POV)
–There was the one time Eddie came home angry. Slamming doors, cursing under his breath. I was upset at the language, but more worried he’d catch a little finger, or a toe in the cabinets or doors. I asked why and he pushed me away. He had always been doing that lately. Am I being too much of a worrier? Maybe I am. He’s older now, and doesn’t need me as much. As much as that hurts to admit, seventeen is old enough to be independent.
–He came home crying again. He’d been doing a lot of that, too. Something was different. He came to me for once. I was selfishly happy, but that left me when I saw him. He had a bruise under his left eye. His lip was cut, and his hands were shaking and red, a sign that he’d had a panic attack again. Those signs used to be foreign to me until he told me those weren’t asthma like I had thought for years. I’d like to think of myself as an almost expert on them now. The only thing hard for me to tell anymore is what might cause them. He has them so often. Eddie comes to me, and sits down, panting. He looks worn down and sad and resigned, as if he’s accepted a heavy fate, or like he was waiting for a piano to fall on him.
This time when I ask him what’s wrong, he crumbles and starts to cry again. He tells me Henry and his psychopath friends cornered him in the locker room, and roughed him up. He shows me his ribs, and I see red. Partly the dried blood, partly rage. That little freak carved the word “Fag” into Eddie’s little side. It takes everything in me not to take him to the hospital, but Eddie insists he cleaned and dressed it as much as it needed, and it wasn’t deep, no stitches needed. I prayed with everything in me that it wouldn’t scar. When I asked him why they would choose that word, he becomes silent again. He seems to be trying to find the right words to say, and eventually he does. He tells me, stuttering more than the elder Denbrough boy, that it’s because they saw him kissing Richard Tozier. I had nothing to say, and he goes to his room before I could find the right words. I did eventually, over dinner. I tried to make a lighthearted joke, and said he could do better than little Richie Tozier, and that I loved him. He did laugh, but he also cried. This time it was the good way.
–One time he came home excited, his feet barely touching the ground as he ran upstairs. I called out to him to get the door, but he was down just as fast heading out again. His cheeks are pink and his eyes are bright, and I can’t help but to think that just a few months ago this same boy was crying in shame over what had happened. He was a lot happier in general, due in part I suppose to coming out, but mostly Richard. Richie, Richie this, and Richie that. I almost wanted to tell him I was tired of hearing it, but his happiness wasn’t something I could get tired of. Despite being a trouble maker and a bad mouth, he did take care of Eddie. I did tell him to stop coming home with love marks- unsanitary and shameless little things. I tried not to think about the fact that he still probably got them where I couldn’t see them. He may be an adult next month but he’s still my little angel.
He tells me he’s finally going out on a real date, just the two of them. That they’re going to see a movie, and he tells me not to wait up. I know I’ll try to, but he always manages to come home after I fall asleep. Sneaky little boy. He tells me he’s already left the name, address, and number of the movie theatre on the counter, and that he’ll be with Richie who can be reached as well. I have his number in my Rolodex, as I do his parents, and the rest of his friends- you never know when you might need them. He kisses my cheek and practically skips out to the beat up truck Richard drives. It has a bench seat and the driver seatbelt doesn’t work most of the time, and I cringe thinking about Richie just sitting on it so he doesn’t get a ticket for not actually wearing it. Eddie promised me he’d never drive it, so at least there’s that.
–He came home today, silent. It’s almost worse when he does that instead of crying. Eddie was pale, and he had dark circles under his eyes. I asked if he was okay, and he just stares at me. It feels like an eternity when he opens and says “The school won’t let Richie and I go to prom together… They said if we showed up they’d kick us out.” His voice sounds so fragile and small, like he doesn’t feel like a real person. I’m furious. I tell him I’ll call the school, but he begs me not to. He says it’s okay, he knew it would happen, that this is just the way things are. I, however, will not stand this. As soon as he goes to his room, I call his principle. I can’t remember exactly what I said, though I am equal parts embarrassed and proud to have used foul language in place of his name. “Mr. Shitstain” and I came to an agreement that they may attend as long as they are within a larger group. He will not allow them to have couple’s pictures, but he did reluctantly allow that they dance together. I tell Eddie in the morning and he cries and hugs me. He goes to Richie to give him good news.
–He comes home after prom with a photo- the whole group is in it, all holding a sign that says “Loser’s Club”. I cringed at the name, but they chose it for themselves years ago. Eddie and Richie are next to each other, and I suppress an eye roll that Richard had ripped open his shirt to reveal an exclamation point painted on his pale abdomen at the last moment. The picture is slightly blurred, and Eddie confirms my theory when he laughs and says the camera guy was startled and tried to lunge at Richard to put all of his clothes back on. Despite this, I see the stars in his eyes. He is happy, so I am happy.
–Lately he’s been coming home with heaps of papers, college letters, essays, SATs, tests. I try not to think about him leaving. I turn up the volume on the TV or the radio when he uses the phone to talk to his friends about it. It hurts and he knows it hurts. I’ve never been good at not worrying. This goes on for weeks. I fail to keep my tears in when he’s at school or out with friends, but at the same time, I’m immensely proud. He’s such a good boy.
–This time he comes home, and he doesn’t say a word, and I can’t see him from the kitchen but I know something is wrong. His feet are dragging and his breathing sounds funny. I drop the spoon into the soup when I hear a crash. He’s laying on the floor and crying. Despite him being curled up in a ball I can see he’s covered in bruises and cuts, and bleeding badly. I try not to scream but when I rush to him I can’t hold it, he’s been cut up badly again, more words carved into his soft belly and his thighs. I can see the word “Queer” seeping through his khaki pantleg as he sobs. This time, he does need stitches. In many places. The only thing he says to me from the hospital bed is that he is oh so tired of this town. Richard never leaves his side, growling at anyone who causes him pain or wakes him up, like a wild animal. I’ve decided that I am incredibly grateful that he is who he is.
He’s in the hospital for three days. Night one was cleaning and stitching and recounting what happened. The police had been called to file a report. He hesitantly confesses that Henry, Patrick, and the other cretins did this to him. Chief Bowers is red with rage. I hear him in the hallway calling my son a “flamer” but that his boy was “going to get it”. This is the first and only time I’ve yelled at a cop. Richie laughs and holds up his hand for a high five, something I wouldn’t usually reciprocate, but tonight is a night of firsts. Night two was observation and tests to see how bad the internal injuries might be. He has a concussion, but they found no internal damage aside from bruises and a cracked rib. They send him home wrapped in Ace bandages and taped up like Richard’s glasses. That night he tells me he needs to leave, that he can’t take this anymore. I’m angry, and admittedly irrational. We do not speak to each other for a week.
–When we speak again, he walks in the door with Richie, William, and Michael. Out of his friends, Michael is my favorite despite where he lives being so messy. He brings me flowers and fresh fruits and vegetables. He washes them himself, but only once he gets here so I can see it. He’s a very well mannered and intelligent man. William is wonderful too, but I feel guilt in having trouble understanding him, and he has a habit of talking with his mouth full. He’s not as messy as Richard, so at least there is that. Eddie has healed nicely so far, most of the stitches are out already, and the scars he has, though sadly legible, are hidden under clothes. His lip and eyebrow have small scars, but they are hard to notice. The boys have folded boxes in their hands. I knew this was coming, but I still couldn’t bear it. I stubbornly told him I wouldn’t help him, and that I wouldn’t watch him either. He only nods his head, looking down.
They pack up his belongings, and I step out into the yard, smoking my first cigarette in years. I swiped one from the Marsh girl months ago, when Eddie was starting to talk about college. I thought that was the worst, but this hurts more. He’s leaving too soon, and I can’t stop him. He promised me he’d finish high school, and go to college, but that he would not live here, in Derry. Because we weren’t completely speaking, I have no idea where he’s moving, and now I’m too embarrassed to ask. When I go back inside, William hands me a piece of paper, his handwriting surprisingly neat, with Eddie’s address, and number. He was moving just outside of the city, into the matchbox apartments. With Richard. I can’t help it. When he walks out of the front door with his things, he kisses my cheek. I can’t help it. When the car drives away, their silhouettes in the windshield. I can’t help it. I sit down on the porch, and I begin to cry. I can’t help it.
–He doesn’t come in the door anymore. Not the way he used to. No angry slams, no excited pops as the door hits the wall. No silent entries when he’s tired. No little footsteps. He doesn’t come home. He visits, sometimes with Richard, and with his friends. He calls frequently, too. He’s a good boy. Time passes, and he came to visit after graduation. He got accepted to a college in Maine. I try to hide how happy that makes me. I promise I won’t go to the dorms too much. He and Richie talk about their lease ending and moving on campus. His little group of friends are trying their best to stick together. They all got accepted to the same school, and will try to attend until their majors take them elsewhere. It’s nice knowing that he’ll have so many friends.
He doesn’t come home, but he visits. Holidays he even stays in his old room. Sometimes. Other times he stays with William in his new house, just down the street from mine. Sometimes they visit Richie’s parents, or Michael’s farm. It’s a lot like it used to be, but it isn’t the same. I know it never will be, and while I’m sad, I’m happy too. He doesn’t come home, but he gets married in the same church I was married in. They make the paper as the first same sex couple to get married in Derry. Someone booed them as they walked to their car, but before anyone said anything, Richard flipped them off. I don’t tell Eddie, but I caught it on camera. It’s framed in my room, shameful but endearing. He doesn’t come home, but he visits often, asking for advice. We’ll have lunch together and talk about stain removal, and he’s picked up cross stitching for Richard’s anniversary gift. He’s going to make a sign that says “Tozier-Kaspbrak” for their sitting room.
He doesn’t come home, but he visits often. Many times with Richard, and even more happily with their new daughter. I’ve always wanted a daughter, so I spoil her rotten. I try not to be so overbearing as I was with Eddie. I know it had the wrong impression on him, and I don’t want her to feel the same. I give her sweets when they aren’t looking, and I teach her all about keeping a good home, and let her watch football with me when they need a babysitter. Eddie doesn’t know, but sports are a guilty pleasure of mine. I want her well rounded, too- to know that girls can like whatever they please. Her name is Amelia Isabelle, and she grows so fast. He doesn’t come home anymore, not like he used to. And I’m so, so grateful. He’s leading a good and proud life, and I’ve never been more proud to be the mother of Edward Tozier-Kaspbrak. He doesn’t come anymore, but when he visits, it’s like he never left at all.I’ve lived a good little life, I feel.
“Sonia Kaspbrak, 65, passed in her sleep in her home of Derry, Maine. Natural causes. She leaves her son, son-in-law, and granddaughter. Funeral to be held this Saturday, July 17th at the First Church of Derry. She will be fondly remembered by all who knew her. Everyone is welcome to attend the open service ceremony being held to celebrate her life. Thank you, Richard Tozier-Kaspbrak”
loving someone should be like breathing. inhale. exhale. but, loving yourself? now that’s protest. that’s activism. and it’ll be hard. like deep breathes during asthma attacks. but that last inhale, that inflates your lungs, is worth all the laughter.
Could you do one where Richie and Eddie are making out and Richie finds Eddie's kink?
- okay so they’d be making out in eddie’s room or something like usual
- and richie would be on top and running his hands and fingers over eddie’s collarbones and neck and would go to cup his cheek but his fingers would go around eddie’s neck for a second and eddie freezes
- richie is just like ‘you okay’ and eddie goes pink before shyly asking ‘can we try something?’
- eddie then asks him to put his fingers around his neck and press on his throat, and at first richie is like ‘you literally have asthma i don’t want to kill you’
- ‘i’ve done it before okay i’ll be fine’
- richie just looks so shocked that he does it and presses down and eddie just starts gasping out before richie kisses him again
- eddie presses his own hand on richie’s, letting him know it’s okay to press harder, and richie does so until eddie is moaning and gasping for air
- richie lets go after a while and he watches as eddie’s eyes roll back and his face goes from pink to normal again and he just looks so flushed and out of breath and beautiful and richie is stunned silent
❝ Medical astrology (traditionally known as iatromathematics) is an ancient medical system that associates various parts of the body, diseases, and drugs as under the influence of the sun, moon, and planets, along with the twelve astrological signs. ❞
Medical Astrology has been practiced for centuries over centuries and still remains in practice to this day - although it became much humbler as modern medicine evolved and astrology transformed into something wildly interpreted as “humbug”. Even some of those who study astrology still seem to have a false understanding of what exactly medical astrology is and therefore don’t believe in it themselves.
So to clear up any possible misconceptions before I start: Medical Astrology is NOT the stars telling you that you’re going to have a specific condition because one of your placements suggests it. As with most other things, there’s a lot that comes into play: Other placements, on one hand, but especially, and I really want to stress this, things like how you treat your body, accidents that you may get into, DNA, … you get the drift.
I already mentioned it, but medical astrology only SUGGESTS higher risks for specific ailments. It does NOT predict them. (Transits, however, CAN - but even they don’t promise for you to get the disease or whatever ailment is supposed to happen. This is another topic, though.)
Having said that, I will make another post for very specific conditions, for this one I’ll only talk about some general things like what signs/houses/planets rule what body part and what role everything plays. Also, I do NOT take responsibility for what you do with this information. I’m not trying to scare anyone, I’m just passing on some of my knowledge.
SIGNS & HOUSES
Aries/1st House: rules head, face (and everything in it), brain, hair, vision
Now we know what the involved parts represent, but not why and how that is. So to use medical astrology properly we have to make the connections between these aspects (hint: aspects can play a role too, but one usually puts more emphasis on houses/signs + planets) and know about some common themes:
SATURN suggests struggles & weakness in the assigned body part(s) of the sign/house he resides in.
e.g.: Saturn in Gemini and 5th suggests trouble with breathing properly (in extreme cases ailments like asthma) and back problems
URANUS often makes for “abnormalities” or strange/unusual conditions.
e.g.: Uranus in Taurus and 3rd can indicate rapidly changing weight and somewhat differently formed fingers (in extreme cases things like swan neck fingers)
STELLIA can cause trouble due to the excessive amount of energy bundled in (a) certain body part(s).
e.g.: An Aries (head/brain) stellium can make for strong or chronical headaches
EXTREME DOMINANCEworks like a stellium as long as the dominance is very prominent.
CHALLENGING ASPECTS can lead to trouble as well - one has to look at the planets involved and the houses/signs they’re in for this one to know more.
e.g.: A VERY afflicted/”damaged” sun in the 6th might in extreme cases indicate a heightened potential to suffer of a heart attack.
I of course didn’t cover every theme, every aspect, everything that is important, but with your new-earned knowledge you should have a solid and basic foundation with which you should be able to work. As I already said, I’ll make a separate post with very specific ailments which I will also describe (the why and how) that I will then link in this one.
As Medical Astrology is its own branch of astrology and therefore gets more and more complex the more you dive into it, my ask box is always open if you should need clarification or help with interpreting something.
I have the pacer test tomorrow and thought about this for a long time.
□ Eddie, Beverly, Mike, Bill, Mike, and Stan have gym class together. Richie joins them on Fridays. Ben is unfortunately in the other cluster but the losers spend as much time together as they can during school.
□ Mike and Bill race each other during the pacer test. Eddie tried to join them one time but his asthma was like “No binch.” And so he had to go to the nurse. Richie told him that his asthma would loose it’s shit, and it did.
□ Stan usually stops running around 20 laps. He joins Eddie on the bleachers to watch the rest of the boys run, especially Bill. Eddie teases him a lot.
□ Stan has heart eyes. All day, every day.
□ Stan admires the way Bill’s hair bounces when he runs, when he hurries across the gym to jump into him or Mike, when he makes a pit stop to the bleachers to take a drink from his water bottle on a really warm day, and when he falls because he laughs to hard or someone does something ridiculous.
□ The school splits them in gender for their height, weight, and pacer. Beverly is alone all the time, but she enjoys laughing at the boys while they run after she does her height and weight.
□ After Beverly finishes, she joins the two on the bleachers. If the pacers on friday, she would most like be the fourth person to sit on the bleachers usually because Richie stops running when Eddie does.
□ Bev sets the highest score for the girls records because the rest of them are all pussies. Even the girls who play soft ball and soccer/football.
□ Eddie’s told Richie multiple times that he doesn’t have to stop running because he stopped. He even said he wanted to watch Richie run from the bleachers.
□ Richie and Eddie argue while Stan and Beverly talk about their day. Beverly vents about how much she wants Ben to be in their cluster with her. Good thing they have lunch after.
□ Bev coos when she watches Stan stare at Bill.
□ Mike and Bill set the highest scores all the time. Other kids cheer or groan because they won’t stop running.
□ Bill once sprained his ankle when running so they didn’t count it as a completed race.
□ Stan was the first to volunteer to bring Bill to the nurse. His arm shot up into the air so fast, flash who?
□ Stan becomes Bill’s care taker™
□ Stan hates being late to class but he and Bill are the last out of the boys locker room every gym class.
□ Bill asked him out one day and Stan tripped up the stairs.
□ Their first kiss was shared after gym class to be honest.
□ Mike waits for the other five to get ready before they walk to class. He is the only one who witnesses most of the Reddie departing kisses. He awes and wipes fake tears everytime.
□ Mike also witnessed the first stenbrough kiss. He was shocked af.
□ Mike is really antsy after gym and pushes Richie up the stairs or he pokes him on the sides all the time. Richie drops his stuff and swears like a sailor 99% of the time.
□ Teachers give Richie warnings because of his potty mouth but he’s never ever sent to the dean.
□ One time Mike got Richie on the sides so hard, Richie started running after him and Eddie was the one to get sent to the dean after swearing at the two.
□ Eddie lost it. Who knew someone could swear so many times in one sentence. Most of them were towards the staff but eventually he apologized because his mother made him.
□ The two eventually joined Eddie in the dean’s office.
□ Eddie could’ve killed them both.
□ After they finished the five mile run, they all went and sat in the shade and played truth or dare.
□ oof, you bet your stenbrough thirsty ass someone dared Bill and Stan to kiss. They did it too, long and passionate. No regret.
□ Stan and Bill are very clingy after getting use to the whole dating thing.
□ One class, Ben, not so innocent at the time, skipped his class to join their gym class one day. BEV AND BEN CUDDLED EVERY SECOND THEY GOT THAT PERIOD.
□ The gym teachers let it slip this one time, mostly because Ben had a pass somehow? And he was the best student in the other clusters class honestly. But Ben never did it again because he missed so much in the class he skipped.
□ Poor Mike, he been seven-wheeling since the day he joined the club.
□ The losers honestly try so hard not to be clingy- besides Eddie and Richie. Richie doesn’t listen at all.
□ Mike does eventually get a chance to talk to a new student in their class and he develops his own crush.
□ The Losers encourage Mike to get it, every time. Like, hold my earrings.
□ Hold my goddamn earrings.
Mhm, I don’t know how long other people run their mile runs, it’s usually 5 for my school T;
-this comic is about being denied medical help by teachers in gradeschool when i had asthma attacks- i still deal with flashbacks and panic attacks that make it feel like im having asthma attacks even if im not-
Please do not use/repost my translations without my permission.
Y=Yuzuru, S=Sora, H=Host (italics indicate her narration), N=Narrator, G=Go
H: And now, appearing on 24HTV for the 4th year in a row, figure skater Yuzuru Hanyu! This year, it’s a special dream-like show with superstar Hiromi Go.
N: Sochi Olympic gold medalist, Yuzuru Hanyu, age 22. At a competition 4 years ago, an unusual event occurred. He boldly landed two quads at the start of the program. But after he finished, he collapsed on the rink. What happened to Hanyu? He confesses on TV for the first time.
Y: It’s like I can’t breathe even half as much as usual, and oxygen won’t come in at all. I always carry [an inhaler] so it’s okay if an asthma attack happens at any time. I’ve had asthma since I was 2.
Can we talk about Lance's breathing in Evolution? Because there had to be a point during his transition where he suddenly couldn't breathe. What happened at that moment? And how long can he bee without his special shirt before bad things happen?
Lance changed first, which means no one was expecting anything to happen. Normally the virus would have killed the Alteans exposed to it quickly and have mile symptoms of fever and coughing at the very least, so Allura immediately sent them all to the infirmary to check them. However humans incubate viruses typically longer than Alteans and when she didn’t see any immediate effects she assumed they were ok and would monitor them. Because of this, Lance had no warning to the build-up of the virus in his body. One night he just started to toss and turn (after having been itchy in a lot of places all day) and woke up like he couldn’t breathe. He thought at first it was like asthma; some of his siblings had asthma; but he wasn’t just having trouble breathing, he was in pain and it all sort of happened too fast…..
His legs felt like jelly, his neck was on fire, he kept gasping for breath, what was going on?! He couldn’t call out for anyone like this! (and let me tell you, not being able to breathe is REALLY scary)
Shiro takes him to the infirmary shouting “ALLURA!” the entire way. All I can say is…. thank gods Shiro was awake.
she was temporary like asthma. me? a shakespearean tragedy in A minor without a respirator no I am a barista sans arms hoping to get by on my masculine charms a smile a wink you’ll soon forget you are here for a drink lord, I am so tragically hip hoping to thank you for your generous tip
at night I retire to my drawing room for I am the literary kind writing my novel depressing the keys with my mind