#Asthma During Winters

[geetanjalihospital]

6 Tips To Control Asthma During Winters | Winter Health Tips

Asthma is a chronic medical condition. It is a lung disease characterized by inflammation and narrowing of the airways, making breathing difficult. And often, it is seen that the medical conditions of Asthma worsen in winter. Here in this blog, we will read through six tips to control Asthma during winter.

Geetanjali Hospital in Udaipur is a well-known hospital that offers a wide range of medical services, including tuberculosis (TB) treatment. If you or someone you know is seeking treatment for TB, it's essential to work with a healthcare provider to receive an accurate diagnosis and receive an appropriate treatment plan. For the best TB treatment in Udaipur, you should contact our medical experts soon.

What are the different medications and treatments for Winter Asthma?

Though Winter Asthma is a chronic medical condition, there are various medications and treatments available for winter asthma. Some common options include:

1. Quick-relief medications: These medications, such as albuterol, provide fast and temporary relief from asthma symptoms during an asthma attack.

2. Controller medications: These medications are taken on a regular basis to prevent asthma symptoms and reduce the frequency of attacks. Examples include inhaled corticosteroids, leukotriene modifiers, and long-acting beta-agonists.

3. Allergy medications: Allergies can trigger asthma symptoms. Allergy medications, such as antihistamines and nasal steroids, can help control allergies and reduce asthma symptoms.

4. Vaccinations: Flu and pneumonia vaccinations can help prevent respiratory infections, which can worsen asthma symptoms.

5. Lifestyle changes: Avoiding triggers, such as cold air, respiratory infections, and indoor air pollution, can help reduce the frequency and severity of asthma symptoms. Staying active and maintaining a healthy diet can also help improve overall lung function and reduce asthma symptoms.

Read Full Blog Here: https://www.geetanjalihospital.co.in/blogs/view/6-tips-to-control-asthma-during-winters-winter-health-tips

[save-mohamed-family]

My campaign is verified and added to the Gaza Donations page with number 192.

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@sar-soor @heba-20

@el-shab-hussein

@90-ghost @soon-palestine

@ibtisams @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @northgazaupdates @fallahifag @fairuzfan

I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters, who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, I am facing a severe injury to my leg, which is at risk of amputation if I do not receive the necessary treatment. My wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, and my wife is also suffering from uterine cancer.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

To everyone with a compassionate heart,

To all who understand the essence of humanity,

This is a message from my innocent children, who trust that their words will reach everyone who truly understands the meaning of childhood.

We cry out to you, asking you to feel our sorrow and pain, and to extend a helping hand to us in this time when we are in desperate need of your mercy and compassion.

My name is being repeatedly added to many public and private donation campaigns. Please, be a support for me in this difficult situation.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview

@communistchilchuck 🫶🇵🇸

@nabulsi

@sayruq

@communistchilchuck @90-ghost @sar-soor @fairuzfan @ibtisams @fallahifag @vakarians-babe @palipunk @palestinecharitycommissionsassoc @stil-lindigo @vakarian-shepard @northgazaupdates

@faggotfungus @ghost-and-a-half @three-croissants @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness @marnota @northgazaupdates

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family

[thetimelordbatgirl]

So uh, tfw your pretty sure at this point the flat is activitely damaging you and your moms health.

[vilnmelling]

do you have any more richie tidbits :D

Trust me, I have a LOT to say about Richard Lipschitz. As he's my current hyperfixation character, I have made it my mission to find out everything there is to know about him, and of course also to make as many headcanons as possible about him. Now LET'S GO, ALL SORTS OF RICHIE STUFF!

Canon/half canon facts and trivia (AKA things said/done either in NPMD, in track commentaries or in streams)

As he says a couple of times in NPMD, he has overactive sweat glands, meaning he sweats more than the average person, and that he doesn't smell very good.

He also has asthma, as Bury the Bully confirms.

Shapiro asks the nerds if they're sure they didn't see Richie in their AP calculus class, so we can assume Richie's good at math.

Richie's quite skilled with a camera, and he knows how to photoshop (whether or not he's good at it is up for debate *glances at Ruth's playbill headshot*).

His favorite anime is Attack on Titan.

He would absolutely dye his hair blue.

He cosplays, and if he could afford to, he would make ELABORATE cosplays.

Richie's bedroom: his walls are absolutely decked out in anime posters, he has tons and tons of plushes, and he has a glass case of Funko Pops. Then he also has his anime love pillows, of course.

He did some Twitch streaming in 2020.

Once, he tried to organize a Pokemon Go meet-up, but no one showed up.

He's not as brave as he would like to be.

He doesn't seem to be a big fan of parties.

Out of the nerds, he was the one who felt the worst about what they did to Max.

My personal observations and headcanons

Richie's a shorts guy, all year around. He only has one or two pairs of long pants in his closet. It doesn't matter how cold it gets during the winter; he still wears shorts. He would've worn shorts to Homecoming. He'd be one questionable decision away from wearing shorts at his own wedding.

He and Trevor are identical twins, and Trevor is eleven minutes older. Even though Trevor's barely interested in anime and Richie's hardly at all interested in musicals, they watch them together. It's a weekly thing that they sit down in the living room, argue for five minutes about whether to watch an anime or a musical ("We watched Newsies last time." "Bullshit, that was like a month ago, we've watched anime the last two times at least!" "And what pray tell may those animes be, Trevor?"), then settle on one but talk over it the entire time. One of them always gets annoyed at the other for not keeping up with the storyline, but if you think they're gonna stop talking over them, you're wrong.

Daniel's their younger brother by five years. Neither of them know about Daniel's abilities nor about the fact that he's part of a magical fighting ring. (Their uncle, Gary, takes Daniel in secret, and they've told the rest of the family that Gary's taking Daniel to some sports practice. Trevor and Richie have ongoing bets about where Daniel keeps getting loads and loads of money from, and they constantly make deals with him to earn some money for themselves (doing Daniel's chores, watching stupid superhero movies with him, etc..))

His full name is Richard Jonathan _____ Lipschitz. Jonathan as a middle name is a family name for all the men in the Matthews-Goldstein-Lipschitz-McNeil family, and then they all have their own second middle name.

Trevor and Richie's birthday is somewhere in June. Richie was just so fucking clearly born in June.

When they were kids (8-12), they would make shitty movies and movie trailers on iMovie on their iPad. Most often, Richie would film and Trevor would play all the roles. Sometimes they'd involve Daniel and their cousins from their father's side of the family, then they'd force all the adults to watch their movies. Their greatest hit films include 'The Children in the Drawers', 'The Green Plant', 'The Murderer in the Barn' and 'The Boy Who Went to the Bathroom and Disappeared' (definitely not named after the shitty iMovie trailers and movies my sister, cousins and I made when we were kids).

Richie and Ruth met for the first time on a playground the summer before their first year of school. They played together for an hour or two before Ruth had to go home, and parted as typical six-year-old strangers who played pirates on a playground once. When they started school a month and a half later, they ended up in the same class, and they immediately recognized each other, and since then they've been besties. (Ruth met Pete at tap class, and that was how Pete completed the trio).

Based on a whole fuck ton of things in both the proshot and the digital ticket, I have no choice but to think Richie's down bad for Ruth, and that she's equally whipped. Richie's 110% oblivious to how he's feeling. He's not in denial or anything, he just has no idea. I'm talking, "Seeing her smile makes my stomach do cartwheels, but that doesn't mean anything." "That dress she wore once made me speechless, but that's just because she's such a good friend." "Yes, I could imagine myself kissing her, but that doesn't have to mean anything." He gives her an almost Paul-level heart-eyes look, she's fucking constantly looking at him, he fully checks her out in the digital ticket (involving nodding and hand gestures), she giggles at every lame joke he makes like it's the funniest thing she's heard, how angry he is that Pete wouldn't want to be with her, she beelines for him after "arguing" with Steph, he hypes her up when Max compliments her skeleton bit, and they're pretty much incapable of standing more than three millimeters away from each other. I mean, come on.

Analyses are on the way!

I've spent a lot of my time delving into story analysis, and I'm about to make an analysis video focusing mainly on Max and Richie (Richie's death, in particular). The script is done, I just have to film and edit it, but then it'll be up on Youtube!

Another analysis video idea I have is to make a video purely dedicated to breaking down each of the main characters and unearthing their internal conflicts, goals, desires, fears and misbeliefs. I've already got a pretty good idea of Richie's motivations and fears, so I'm quite excited about this one...

And there ya go, a bunch of Richie stuff!

[imanopossum]

my henry headcanons 🗣️ don’t be surprised if i update and edit this post as i come up with more so feel free to check back in every so often!!

-autism 🔥🔥🔥this one’s fairly obvious and widely agreed upon though even my MOM said he was autistic 😭😭😭

-his favorite art medium is charcoals

-if he was in band he would play oboe, and piano in front ensemble during marching season. i’m a band kid and i say so. oboes are all gifted kids but you can’t march oboe on the field and let’s be honest henry would not survive summer band practices unless he was in front ensemble who dont have to march

-epilepsy, specifically a subtype called psychogenic nonepileptic seizures or PNES. this subtype is seizures that are caused by psychological distress or ptsd. fairly self explanatory

-asthma, this one just feels right i have no evidence but i feel it in my balls

-he loves ovaltine. evidence: captain midnight sponsored ovaltine in commercials, think ralphie and his annie cipher in a christmas story, also bc he had captain midnight ciphers

-he would always win at hide and seek with alice, he is thin and lanky and would have no issue hiding in some tight little spot where alice wouldn’t find him

-former gifted kid (relatable), shadow brenner in the vr game and louis himself said henry is “too smart for his own good”. his strongest subjects are biology math and literature

-he subconsciously habitually rubs at the scar on his hand. (ahaha i do that. i’m totally not projecting guys)

-picky eater, virginia does not gaf and continues to cook stuff she knows he doesn’t like

-he’s actually an animal lover bc he clearly loved the puppy he got for his seventh birthday and he was petting claudia’s cat before the mind flayer made him kill it and was so sad when he accidentally killed the rat that he actually hugged brenner like what bro was that desperate for comfort he hugged his abuser (stockholm syndrome.)

-besides captain midnight his favorite superhero would obviously be spider-man

-he’s a pisces (emotionally intuitive, sensitive, artistic, intelligent) tbh a fall or winter birthday feels more right for him and february seems pretty fitting CHAT I NEED THEM TO TELL US WHAT HIS BIRTHDAY IS I MUST KNOW I DONT EVEN CARE IF IM WRONG I JUST NEED TO KNOW

-he’d listen to hozier, melanie martinez (anyone ever notice crybaby and henry align almost exactly. abusive home-> trapped in a facility-> dying?/transformed into something nonhuman), ethel cain, pink floyd, poor mans poison

-he would get a coverup spider tattoo over the 001

[bundtcakeluvr]

I'm Mohammad Al-Manasra. I'm reaching out to you from the ruins of destroyed homes and a tent that offers no relief from the scorching summer heat or the biting winter cold. 😔😔 With the onset of the war on Gaza, I tragically lost my parents and sisters. 😭😭😭 I plead with you to assist me in safeguarding what remains of my family 🙏🙏🙏, my wife and our three children. Please help me share my story and find support during these challenging times. My heartfelt gratitude goes out to you. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

I sincerely hope you and your family are safe as soon as possible, best wishes.

$594/60,000 as of 6/12/24

Mohammad has lost far far too much in the bombardment. His parents, four sisters, and nieces were all ripped away from him, may they rest in peace. Now he has his wife and three children, all three under ten years old. On top of this, he has medical conditions that cannot be properly treated in this genocide, including asthma which must be hell in a war zone.

He has detailed how the money will be spent in his Go Fund Me, but I’ll paste it below.

-$18,000 for travel expenses,

-$6,000 for temporary housing

-Estimate of $8,000 for medical bills

-$8,000 to start working to support his children and wife and get back on their feet.

Anything helps. The right to live shouldn’t have a paywall, but if it does it’s our job to help break it down.

Thank you! 🩷🇵🇸🩷

[covid-safer-hotties]

Paris 2024 Was Supposed to Be ‘Normal’—But You Can’t Compete With COVID - Published Aug 2, 2024

Some athletes are taking their own precautions, but the responsibility shouldn’t be solely on them

In the lead-up to the Paris Games, we couldn’t escape how “normal” it was all supposed to be: Media outlets touted the return of cheering spectators in place of empty stadiums, a hyped opening ceremony packed with hundreds of thousands of fans, arrivals of friends and families to help athletes celebrate huge wins (and process tough losses)—and no masks in sight.

All in all, as the Associated Press wrote at the beginning of July, the Paris Games would mark the return to “post-pandemic” “normal,” following “a stretch when host cities turned into closed-off shells of themselves, depriving those who had earned their way inside the so-called Olympic ‘bubble’ of a true Olympic experience.”

But as we’re learning as the 2024 Summer Games go on, popping that bubble might have been more than a little premature—and the athletes could be the ones paying the price.

To be clear, the lack of spectators, family support, and ability to connect with others wasn’t easy for the athletes. As fencer Kat Holmes told SELF, the atmosphere was “very restrictive.” “In Rio, it was like, ‘We’re here together, we’re gonna get to know each other,’” she said. “In Tokyo, it was like, ‘Oh my God, don’t breathe on me.’” So we totally get the desire to avoid that—it’s just that, unfortunately, COVID hasn’t gotten the memo.

The strict rules of Tokyo and Beijing didn’t exactly make it to Paris. In Tokyo, the rules for the athletes were strict, so much so that the term “intimacy ban” kept getting thrown around. The reason for the “safety first” policies, according to a 70-page playbook released one month before the 2020 Games (which actually happened in 2021), was to protect all athletes, participants, and the people of Japan from the spread of COVID-19. As such, it detailed policies including mask wearing “at all times” (except for sleeping, eating or drinking, training, or competing); avoiding the “3 C’s” (spaces that are confined, crowded, or involve close contact); testing regularly for COVID-19, whether you were symptomatic or not; and isolating yourself if you do test positive, among others.

Strict, yes, but also effective. According to the annual report released by the IOC in 2021, there were only 33 cases of COVID-19 out of 11,300 athletes—and no confirmed spread of the virus between Games participants and the local population. As a result, those learnings went on to influence the policies for the Winter Games in Beijing in 2022, which maintained many of those strict rules too.

Fast forward two years later. We’re now several variants away from the virus that was circulating during the Tokyo and Beijing Games, and while fewer people are dying from the current strain, it’s definitely not “just a cold.” It’s still dangerous, linked to heart problems and lung damage, and the threat of long COVID is real too. Folks with underlying conditions are particularly at risk, and while you may not realize it, that includes a lot of athletes—yep, even those at the top of their game. According to a 2023 review in the Scandinavian Journal of Medicine & Science in Sports, about 15 to 30% of Olympians have asthma, and, recently, athletes like Suni Lee and Katie Ledecky have shared their own experiences living with chronic illnesses. And anyone, even seemingly healthy adults, can get seriously ill from it, whether that’s from the infection itself or the long COVID that can come after it.

Problem is, pandemic fatigue is real, and folks are understandably ready to get back to that elusive “normal.” But you can’t just wish away COVID—something other sporting events have been forced to acknowledge. In July, the Tour de France got rocked by COVID, with several top cyclists getting sick and withdrawing from competition. The Tour even reinstated mask mandates, requiring race organizers, media, and guests to wear them around contact with riders and team staff, Bicycling reported.

While the Games started just a couple weeks later (and in the same country!), the guidelines didn’t follow suit: According to Reuters, there’s no strict policy for COVID-19 at the Paris Games. “We have a protocol (that) any athlete that has tested positive has to wear a mask and we remind everyone to follow best practices, but in terms of monitoring COVID, cases are quite low in France,” Anne Descamps, Paris 2024 chief communications director, told Reuters.

When SELF asked Paris Games organizers on July 15 whether the Tour’s reinstatement of COVID prevention measures and mask mandates would influence theirs, a spokesperson simply said: “Paris 2024 is following the evolution of public health issues closely, together with the French Ministry of Health and Santé Publique France (Public Health France).” On July 19, Julie Dussliere, chief of Paralympics for the US Olympic and Paralympic Committee (USOPC) told SELF that while Team USA was encouraging a lot of “proactive behaviors for people to stay healthy,” like wearing masks on the plane “if they’re comfortable doing so” and “consistently using hand sanitizer,” there are “no specific COVID protocols in place from Paris 2024 for either the Olympics or the Paralympics.”

“Our team USA campaign for the games actually is called Don’t Let A Cold Keep You from the Gold,” Dussliere said. “And so we’ve provided a little travel packet to all members of our delegation athletes and coaches with things like hand sanitizer and masks, eye masks, earplugs for sleeping on the plane, things of that nature, to help with their travel and to try to keep them healthy while they’re traveling.”

So unlike the Tokyo Games, where visual reminders of COVID-19 were everywhere—from the empty stands to the masks athletes wore on podiums—Paris kicked off looking a lot more like a pre-2020 Games. Dig a little deeper, though, and it’s a different story.

To read the rest of the article, follow either link!

[mrleomonade]

Thinking about making a Percy Jackson Fanfic where I just write all the solangelo whump and angst I think ab 🤔🤔

Pls like this list if you like any of these ideas so I know if anyone would be interested!!

Mainly Will Whump bc I don’t see that enough but here’s what I’m thinking of:

Sensory overload Will with Nico there to comfort him

Will using the supersonic whistle and accidentally hurting himself, Nico helps him

Will overworks himself and gets very sick out of nowhere, Nico nurses him back to health

Will has a seizure

Nico can shadow travel, and Will discovers he can light travel in a panicked moment and it takes so much out of him and leaves him very messed up, Nico cares for him and comforts him after

Will refuses anything is wrong with him mentally, because he needs to be seen as strong to be a successful head medic, but then has a flashback of the battle of manhattan and convinces himself everyone around him is a monster and almost hurts Nico

Solangelo cuddle session where Nico discovers some scars and asks about them, Will finally opens up about the dark parts of his past

Will has a severe asthma attack

Nico helping will set his broken bone

Will has a horrible nightmare and seeks Nico out way past curfew to get comfort

Injured Will, who got injured protecting Nico from a freak attack at camp, so hurt and delirious from blood loss that he doesn’t even recognize Nico and Nico has to be taken away by other Apollo cabin members so they can work

Will has chronic pain from a previous injury that he’s never mentioned to Nico, but he can’t hide it anymore during a really bad flare up

Will suffering from borderline frostbite after passing out during the winter from lack of exposure to the sun

Something bad happened to the Apollo cabin and Will has been strong for too long and breaks when Nico asks how he has been doing, because he’s so drained that he just holds onto Nico and doesn’t let go and it’s the only way Will feels safe in the moment, evolved into a panic attack

Will acting as the camp therapist while working in the infirmary and getting triggered when someone tells him something while he’s off work, he ends up freezing and breaking down, only Nico is able to calm him down

Will and Nico fight, and Nico gets so angry he starts grabbing Will, shoving him, yelling at him, and it’s only after a moment of silence for Nico to catch and calm himself he realizes Will’s eyes are glazed over and he’s only half hiding his sobs

[th3-0bjectivist]

Dear listener, I tried listening to six full hours of mainstream radio this week again. I tried, oh, sweet merciful Jesus, I tried. Lo, I have at this point all but confirmed that modern radio is a steaming pool of liquid dogshit. Given a second appraisal, it’s dogshit with a candy-coated hardshell for ease of ingestion! The disheartening repetition, the complete lack of cutting-edge creativity and genuine emotion, ten to twenty ass-ramming commercials in a row only to come back to the feckless frenzy of fail that comprises the vast, vast majority of modern music? It was all terribly grating, and somehow the music was even worse. As soon as I couldn’t take a millisecond more of the doldrums of modern radio, I went to YouTube and listened to two straight and comparatively blissful hours of immortal work by Antonio Vivaldi. So, get into the time machine again with me dear listener, and set course for the early 1700’s, a time when radio didn't exist! The social standards might not have been top-notch, but the powdered wigs were undeniably gorgeous, and the quality of the music… to die for!!!

As anyone who comes from a musical family has likely experienced, Vivaldi had the principles of composition fused to his DNA, and perhaps even down to the subatomic level with the help of his father. Having trained for priesthood in his early years, Vivaldi instead gradually gravitated toward a now celebrated career in music. Becoming an elite level violinist under the tutelage of his father Giovanni Battista, whom he regularly toured Venice and played duelling violins with, this legend of orchestra developed an immense capacity for transforming the basics of music into something so immensely interwoven and sublime that very few can or will ever dare so much as approach the legitimate majesty of his body of orchestral work. Known as something of an Italian religious dogmatist, his calling to the church and desire to be a priest secured him the nickname ‘Il Prete Rosso’ (The Red Priest) because he was a ginger, or in modern politically correct parlance… a natural red head. During a three-decade long gig serving as Master of Violin at an historical Vincentian orphanage, Ospedale della Pietà, Vivaldi managed to gather inspiration and organize his most emotionally powerful compositions. I could probably add a lot of unnecessary details here, but his greatest and most everlasting works are part of his ‘The Four Seasons’, a set of four violin concertos that are meant to express nearly the precise sensations and emotions of summer, winter, autumn, and spring. If you smash play on the above track you will be treated to Presto (from the Summer section), a song you probably know or have heard before. Presto means ‘quickly’ in Italian and is performed at one of the quickest speeds a human can possibly play music (second only to prestissimo speed, I think). Vivaldi also had a strange disease throughout all his life which many historians suspect might have been severe asthma. And with his penchant for taking numerous ‘leaves of absences’ to tour the world and develop an international reputation, this clearly mega-talented rockstar of yester-century ended up spending all the money he earned during his lifetime. Sadly, after approaching the end of his life and skidding through a decade’s worth of career decline, all accounts show that he died completely broke, having spent what little money he had left on multiple assistants that circumnavigated him through his now dire and at the time completely untreatable health issues. Vivaldi isn’t my personal favorite composer of all-time, I’ll leave that distinction to Bach (who himself was inspired by Vivaldi). But his works live on to this very day because he accomplished exactly what he strove to do; embody the excellence of execution in his craft to produce works that bring us together as human beings and sometimes inspire a rare spark of imagination to propel us to create the very best work we can possibly bring forth.

Right above this paragraph is a live variation of The Four Seasons, a classic musical work of art and transcendent beauty that I cannot recommend highly enough. Vivaldi sure did one thing that modern, corporately funded, concentrated and even desperate bands just can’t… and that is actually innovate. He had immense natural technical skills, had them brought to bloom by his family and his own efforts, and he ended up creating over 500 instrumental and choral works, plus about 40 operas. Have *you* created 500 instrumental and choral works and 40 operas!? Didn’t think so. So, get to work on that! And join me next time for some jaunty Brahms. Image source: https://www.craiyon.com/image/dPwZA5VRRTawSH1T9Sslcw

[foxys-fantasy-tales]

OC Kiss Week Day One - Almost

I'm going to do eight days instead of seven because I want one kiss for EVERY ship in Arigale! This is going to be tough lol. Also, these are canon events and will likely be slotted into the books to come in various places whether that be as flashbacks or present day events, so you have been warned. So excited to take part in @ockissweek again! Word Count: 2.3k Characters: Rita and Blue TW: asthma attack, terminal illness mention, blood, and memory loss (sorry these are my trauma babies)

Cold air blew Rita and all her layers of winter dress about like she still weighed little more than the morning paper, though she knew she’d managed to gain a little heft lately. Still, the few pounds from Blue’s cooking weren’t going to do much against such voracious winds trying to consume her. With his hand at her back, each step was grueling but bearable enough. 

Again. She had pushed too far again. Even so, those at the shelter he took such a shine to had some of their own protection against the elements and a few distractions now. The many thanks, the smiles, the scene they’d left played over and over in her mind as she tried to understand. The gift was so small to her, but to them it was everything. 

Yet, her family had never offered such assistance, though it was well in their means even with her constant health concerns. 

Recollections of a look on a young girl’s face, no more than five, as she passed a stuffed animal shaped like a floppy dog to her was a warm spot against the brisk cold that made her smile. Still, the children of the shelter scrambled around the toys, and not all were kind with sharing. Having enough for all and seeing the girl lost her dog already during dinner service, she’d plucked a pink ribbon from one side of her braided hair and tied it around the neck of the dog. Now, it was hers, marked and sealed. A friend just for her to hold. 

Rita groaned as the win picked up. The more it blew cold into her face the more it felt as though she were breathing through ice. Struggling for each short breath, she tugged the scarf tight over her mouth to filter the air somewhat, but it was already in her lungs. A few harsh coughs caught Blue’s attention. The push of his hand on her back turned to a pull as she felt herself brought out of the worst of the wind. She blinked and found they were both tucked behind a pillar holding up the front of a closed diner. 

“Ri? Are you alright?” 

“Fine.” Keeping it short and sweet saved her breath, but she felt them dwindling like sand through an hourglass. Her eyes shut tight as she leaned into him. His warmth helped, if only to keep her short of panicking and making it worse. “We need to get home. My medicine’s there.” 

“I thought it was with-” His fox-like ears rose high, prompted by a harsh wheeze from her. Having been hired by her as an unqualified caretaker months prior, he knew the signs all too well. “You should have brought it!” 

“Didn’t… want to… be late.” 

She looked up into the burning orange of his eyes and imagined her fireplace at home. Braving the wind again sounded like a fool’s errand, but she had to get home. Step by step, Rita rounded the pillar and ended up back on the path home. Blue easily walked alongside, not only for her slowed pace, but because his height was enough to dwarf her. 

“Not fast enough,” he said in a gravelly growl. Rita didn’t get a chance to rebuke him for chiding her at her best pace, as she felt her feet leave the ground and tucked her body in defensively. What she thought may be her balance failing was really a swift scoop into Blue’s arms. The air rushed past her even harder in his sprint, thus she was breathless. That had to be the reason. He’d carried her before after all. 

The door was opened before she could manage more than three breaths. The rush of warmth was soothing and irritating at once. With a yelp, her back hit the soft couch near the door. Drawers slammed in her bedroom across the way beside the fireplace. Papers fell to the floor with the harder thump of books and the jingle of some of her jewelry before he found the medicine and ran back to her. 

Rita hadn’t seen him look so stricken in a while. It gave a fright when she realized how hard she was wheezing and how the fur on his ears and tail rose and fell with her breath. A hard cough surged a thick bunch of phlegm up her throat. She turned and found a mug she’d used for morning coffee to spit in, utilizing the untied side of her hair to hide her face from him. Her lips were cracked and chilled through. Her hand shook while setting the mug back down. There was no way for her to tell if it landed safely on the wood, as Blue barged into her blurred line of sight and popped a capsule the size of his thumb between her sore lips. 

Repetition and muscle memory kicked in. Rita bit the capsule between her teeth and breathed in deep of the thickened air in her mouth that contained her medicine. She coughed harder after as Blue waited for the effects to clear her up some. A few hard pats on her back dislodged more from her throat, but he didn’t mind catching it in the mug despite her blush. One hand cradled the back of her neck as he pushed another capsule in. This time she was able to breathe deeper and the wheezing stopped. After a moment holding her breath, she let it out between his fingers still holding the emptied capsule. They were calloused and rough against her dried lips, yet she couldn’t move away. Her arms had steadied, but some sort of weakness had taken her. At least, it had until he reached to the table for an ointment he’d brought along as well and started to spread it over her chapped lips. He moved slowly. The tingling medicine seeped in quickly, but his face was far too close. His eyes were far too focused, as if spotlights on her now trembling lips. 

“I-I can handle it,” Rita shouted. She swiped the container and covered her mouth with her hand as she sat up straighter. Blue’s ears fell back. His eyes were wide a moment before he nodded and stepped back. The sullied mug was retrieved and carted off to the kitchen with him. Before long, the medicine had softened her lips and she’d cleared any shedding with a handkerchief from her coat pocket. Her boots and outer layers were strewn across the floor nearby when he brought a clean mug full of mint tea to her. Without a word, he went to start a fire. Rita’s eyes were drawn to the quick strikes of flint that brought an orange glow to fill the room. To frame him, as he scooted back and sat on the floor to remove his coat and boots as well. Rita’s grip on the mug tightened until the heat near burned her. A more sensible way to hold was by the handle, and she adjusted fast before he noticed her slight when he looked back at her. 

“Are you better?” 

“Yes, much. Thank you.” She stared into the slightly yellowed drink. Months ago he’d only been capable of kitchen and basic tasks. He had most of his speech, albeit a touch simplified, but his memories were elusive. Only a year of his memories remained. She’d taken him to be examined as he was technically in her employ through their bargain to give him a spare room, but no one could find anything wrong. So why had he been scratching himself and howling of late? She could still see the marks on his ears as the weight of her gaze tugged them down. “Ri?” She snapped up with a soft gasp and shook her head. “It’s nothing.” By the time her tea was half done, Rita had to fight to keep her eyes from closing. The wave of fatigue after any of her different attacks was debilitating. Tomorrow she would be dragging her feet about the house. And… who was to say how many days she had of that? The same gentle touch caught her shoulder before she fell into the armrest. His voice was marred by her ears pinning down as he laid her out flat. The weight of her blanket followed, or so she assumed, though there was an extra heaviness over her waist. She couldn’t fight it much longer. 

“Sorry for causing such a scene.” 

“Just remember the medicine next time, or maybe I will.” “Usually carry… I was just so flustered the last few weeks getting this all together.” “Yeah, yeah. Rest now. You look like a talking corpse.” He couldn’t have known how that hit her. A bit of air was knocked from her chest. He didn’t know. There were things it was better he didn’t grasp fully. “Mind your business. You did well patching me up. Take the compliment and go to bed.” 

“Not yet. I want to make sure you fall asleep okay.” He paused and took the second ribbon from her hair. “Do you want me to carry you to your room?” 

“No. This was a…good idea. I can see the lights and boxes for the morning when I wake up.” She opened her eyes for a second to glimpse the holiday parcels they’d both brought in a few weeks ago. Blue was especially suspicious, as he came in with dirt all over the nice clothes she’d bought him when he brought his. Remembering the big grin he had on made her chuckle, relax, and drift to sleep. She couldn’t tell how long it had been when something woke her. A makeup brush on her cheek? No, but it was certainly hair. It tickled her nose. Her eyes were still too heavy to lift, but the weight finally registered as Blue’s arm when it wrapped around her back. Warm air touched her cheek, then creeped to the sensitive new skin on her lips. There was a lingering scent of mint again, fresher than her own breath from the tea. His hand gripped the couch and she listened to the fabric whine under his clutches. She wished she could do the same, but she was frozen. In…fear? No. She wasn’t fearful of him at all. Then in… anticipation? Having only kissed a couple times in one night with strangers a month prior, her brain was slow to recall the sensations prior to contact. Her heart hadn’t beat so fast at that dance. There hadn’t been the same warmth that now stirred in her from her limbs to in toward her belly. The worst realization was she might be able to pull away the slight space between them and startle him, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Any moment, if he really meant this, they’d touch. Once that thought crossed her mind, her tail flipped up over the blanket. The motion was enough to startle Blue whether she wanted to or not. His soft gasp turned to softer pants as his presence left her. She still wouldn’t open her eyes, not until she heard his door shut. Then, Rita sat up and placed a hand to her chest. Had he meant to…? She shook the thoughts from her head and tried to rest. In the early blue glow just before dawn, a scream awoke her. “Again? Not this morning…” She glanced at the gift wrapping lit up by several pale, pastel lanterns on the table to her right. Gathering her bearings took but a moment before she bolted to Blue’s room. She’d never forget the blood. Red tinged the blue coming in from the window. It stained the fluffy rug at the foot of his bed and most of the navy blanket carried the iron scent even if the color didn’t pop the same. His hands were crusted and wet from layers of his own blood. Teeth marks that could only be his own covered his arms where he must have tried to stifle himself. Yet, in the carnage, Blue sat with an utterly blank expression. Even after she brought bandages and ointments to dress the wounds, he hadn’t moved. Her lips trembled to ask, “Blue?” He stared in response. Her eyes began to sting and blue as she finished wrapping up his arm. The red already showed through layers of pure white. He seemed calm, so she let him be as she stumped to the main room to compose herself in front of the lights. Ever since he began to falter and bleed, since he mentioned forgetting before, she knew this could happen. She still never prepared for it. She turned her eyes from the problem, just as her parents had from her in her illness, sending her to live alone when she was of age to be done with her late night attacks and the turbulent emotions that came with her knowing she’d never grow old or get better. Her hand bumped into her present as she tried to steady herself on the table. The wrapping was little more than sticks and grass woven together, now yellowed by age and dried to be brittle enough they broke apart. A shine caught her eyes as she wiped them. So golden and bright, she couldn’t help but reach out and uncover a ring. How had he acquired gold? She turned it over in her palm before trying it on. It was like it was made for her, and as she removed and spun it in the low light, her inscribed name showed on the interior. A sob caught in her throat with a hot wave of tears as she heard steps from behind her. “Blue? Why would you say… I guess the morning is blue. Who… Who are you?” 

She turned and fought the lack of air, breathing deep as she could with a hand glittering in gold on her chest. “You’re Blue. Your name, that is, at least… the one I know. You can call me Ri. Short for Rita.” 

Tagging: @jezifster, @fracturedfable, and @wynters-writings If you would like to be added please fill this out: FORM LINK

[mmufanatic]

I headcanon that George is really protective of all his friends but will never admit it ( evidence is this bit of The Hound of Weston School which is so cute!!). He would always notice if Hazel was nearing a shutdown but never notices when he is. He fusses about Alexander during the cross country races because of his asthma. If anyone is ill then they are not allowed to do anything until they are completely better ( he, of course, is back to work as soon as he can stand up without fainting). He makes Daisy wear scarves in winter. He is really good at giving advice but not very good at taking it. He never notices is he's getting overwhelmed but always notices if someone else is. He always lets Daisy borrow his noise cancelling headphones if she forgets hers.

In conclusion, while Hazel is a mum friend, George is even more so but will never admit it.

[isfjmel-phleg]

Hundreds and hundreds of years ago, the region of Arclis in the nation now known as Corege crowned their first Prince, who happened to be a ten-year-old boy named Elystan. Despite his youth, he grew into quite a capable ruler and has been highly regarded historically. Over time, the title "Prince of Arclis" came to be applied to the eldest son of the monarch of Corege, and although the title is used from birth, it is officially granted at an investiture ceremony. Traditionally, the investiture takes place when the new Prince of Arclis is ten, in memory of the original Prince.

Elystan Liddick, Prince of Arclis, ought to have had his investiture ceremony around October 1905, when he turned ten, but autumn and winter were a difficult time of year for him, hard on his asthma, so the ceremony was put off until March 1906. Then April. Then May (during Book 1).

Everything was in place to happen. Invitations sent out, ceremonial garments made, even a rehearsal played out.

And then the night before the ceremony Elystan had an asthma attack. A particularly bad one. There was no way he could possibly handle a lengthy public outing in the aftermath of that.

And Talfrin, who had to cancel the ceremony and make evasive excuses to everyone, was furious. This had been put off a few too many times for him, and people were starting to talk. Elystan was the only heir Talfrin had, and if he couldn't make it to his own investiture ceremony, what did that say for the future of Talfrin's very new and still tenuous dynasty? This could not be allowed to continue.

So Talfrin did something that he had never before done as a father--stormed into his son's room and gave him a thorough tongue-lashing. It was high time Elystan outgrew this nonsense that his mother's putting into his head about being delicate. A future king of Corege cannot--must not!--be weak. Elystan could be as strong as he made up his mind to be. But clearly he was choosing to wallow in this effeminate laziness. He was not ready to be King of Corege someday, let alone Prince of Arclis, so he could forget about that investiture ceremony. That honor was only for someone worthy of it, and until Elystan could prove that he had what it took to succeed a man like Talfrin, he would have to wait. If he didn't want the Liddicks to be the laughing stock of the Continent, he would need to start putting some effort into building himself into what a Prince of Arclis ought to be. He could conquer the asthma, or let it conquer him. His choice.

Elystan had another attack later that afternoon.

Shortly afterward came the events that led to Talfrin's forced abdication, so Elystan never did get that investiture ceremony.

[jjtheresidentbaby]

I love all of your other writing so much, so I was wondering if I could please request a cg Steve x little Bucky with the prompt “what do you mean?! of course i was going to defend you, nobody has the right to talk about you like that!”. Thank you in advance if you decide to write it!!!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ defend you ⋆ﾟ⊹ ➢ event masterlist

|| bucky barnes x steve rogers

warnings: mean reporter people, protective avengers, insecure/anxious bucky, crying, pet names

-

Bucky picks at the thread of his sleeve, shifting in his seat of the car Tony bought for him and Steve to share, the leather seats are comfortable and familiar, though it does little to ease his nerves. The party he just fled from was awful.

It had started with a few passing comments about Bucky still being the winter soldier, then it changed to him and Steve, then to him being a little. Everything seemed to go downhill after that, Natasha was quick at jumping up to defend Bucky, yelling in the reporters face as Tony stood behind her doing the same. Thor and Bruce were busy trying to de-escalate things as Tony was starting to threaten pulling out one of his old suits of armor that can “do some real damage”.

Steve hadn’t said much during it, holding Bucky’s hand and whispering that nothing the mean people were saying is true. Then he told Bucky to wait in the car, saying he could take Nat with him if he needed but Bucky opted for going alone.

He’s still waiting for Steve to come outside. It’s been ten maybe fifteen minutes, Bucky’s starting to feel dread twist in his gut, maybe Steve isn’t coming? Maybe he’s in there agreeing with the reporters?

The door opening and closing in one sweep pulls Bucky from his thoughts, his eyes snap to see Steve sliding into the seat next to Bucky’s own. He’s a bit out of breath, part of Bucky gets nervous that maybe Steve’s having an asthma attack like he did when they were younger, but Steve takes in a big breath that seems to fix the problem.

“Sorry that took so long baby, we can go home now.” Barnes nods, turning away from Steve so he can’t see the tears welling in his eyes. His heart aches with the thought of Steve being on the reporters side of things, his headspace is making it harder to hold in the emotions he’d usually shove deep down to only ever touch late at night when nobody could hear him cry.

“Bucky? What’s wrong?” Steve reaches to brush a lock of long hair behind Bucky’s ear, he can’t help but sniffle at the action. How can Steve be so tender after just bashing his headspace? His own caregiver, how could he?

“Wh- why didn’t you defend me?” His bottom lip wobbles when he turns to see Steve’s shocked face.

“W-what?” He sounds perplexed, eyebrows furrowed thickly.

“In- inside you weren’t gonna say anything, you asked me to leave, wh-why?” His chest hitches under the heavy breaths he takes in, more tears starting to slip down his cheeks that he wipes at hastily.

“What do you mean?! Of course I was going to defend you, nobody has the right to talk about you like that! I just didn’t want you in the room while I did it.” Steve’s tone falls soft by the end, he leans to hold Bucky’s cheeks in both hands, brushing away the stray tears on his skin and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m sorry baby. I promise I will always defend you.” He takes Bucky into a tight huge quickly, rubbing his hands at Barnes’ back and peppering kisses into his hair.

“You’re my baby, and nobody gets to be mean to my baby. Understand?” He nods under Steve’s hold, nuzzling in closer as he feels the car starting to pull out of the towers driveway.

[dr-george-ordell]

"Don't linger in front of your own reflection, child, or it will steal your soul."

As a child, Aaron always had the silly little wish that someone would take him away. To be whisked away to a distant land of utopian desires fullfilled.

His father had always told him those desires were dangerous. Never directly, but Aaron had always heard the nagging warnings the paranoid man always gave him about superstitious, of old wives tales muttered only in the last dregs of sunset and fairytale-like stories that had seen war, life, death.

The decrepit old man had been especially obsessed with the Fair Folk. He had forbidden him to call it by their true name, the Sidhe. A few verbal lashings and slaps certainly delivered the message across permanently.

Another way his senior had drilled the lesson of how dangerous the Fair Folk were, was through precautionary children's tales. Constant lines from books hammered into him, alongside cryptic rants and long lectures lasting hours.

"Don't linger in front of your own reflection, child, or it will steal your soul,"

The older Siegel would warn, scowl, scold, all while pointing his finger accusingly. It was as if he could see through Aaron's carefully crafted mask around him, easily find the most minute cracks and flaws and glare deeply at them until he reached the innermost mechanical workings of Aaron's heart. In that heart made out of steel and copper, was the secret wish to belong. A painful childish longing for someone to take him away to a place that felt warmer, that embraced him softly like quilts on a winter day. He would've much preferred it to the icy frigidness of his father.

"Snowqueen," Aaron would silently mutter under his breath. He often thought of the story, reminicing over each line and repeating it until it burned into his mind. It was soothing repetition, one that comforted him during the freezing nights in which his father kept him out in the glistening snow.

One particular time Aaron was locked out, he remembered how numb and red his fingers were, his breath fogging as he struggled to breath in the dry, arid air.

His immune system had always been terrible, worsened by the fact his father seemed to enjoy locking him out the house. What he didn't know was asthma at the time severely plauged him, leaving his younger self wheezing with rattling lungs.

It was as if someone was dragging semi-molten glass shards through his chest even if he took the most shallow of breaths.

Aaron had to find somewhere to shelter. And fast before he became part of the crystalline frost.

Treking away from the woodland mansion, Aaron only looked back once he was at the edge of the forest.

The house was dark, as it usually were in winter, one dimmed, smothered light present in a window on the third floor. Frost-glazed windows shimmered in the dim glow of the moon, icicles having formed upon the many windows, giving the home a resemblance of a prison rather than a place that people raised family in.

During that moment where he stood, he hated, despised, felt like a savage beast being held back from snapping back at his father. He had always made excuses for the cruel man, desperately hoping one day that the older man could be one day be proud of what he did, declare that his previous actions were rough yet justified as he began to love Aaron like a parent would.

But at thirteen, he realised mirror shards of misery passed down from father to son for generations had embedded permanently within the elder Siegel's heart. He had only had been snapped out of one-sided delusion by walking past a frozen puddle, and staring wistfully into it, ignoring his father's lesson. On its reflective surface, Aaron saw the man he hated the most, his chiselled face and marred, red rimmed eyes glaring back at him with raw beastial hate.

It had hurt, and it still did, it caused a nauseous ache, it almost caused those mirror shards to root into his own heart. Even if he could finally let go of the guilt and shame of being a horrible, needy child. Aaron wept bitterly that cold, uncaring night. His innocent self grieving the fact his father didn't want to be saved, didn't want to change his ways.

His sobs reverberated broken and unrestrained, sounding more like a wounded, fearful animal than a human child. His face and eyelashes already being decorated by falling specks of white, lips burning in pain from the arid winter air. He was shaking, shivering as he hugged his knees, his toes stiff and numb in his boots. Aaron had curled himself into a fetal ball hiding within the oak hollow, attempting to shake the droplets of frozen water from his damp hair.

He was rocking back and forth almost violently, a desperate attempt for any peice of comfort he could have. Out here in the dead of night within the chittering forest, no one could hurt him if he was hiding away. But nature didn't coddle its subjects, nor was she soft or gentle.

Nature was just like the Fair Folk. Chaotic, yet symbiotic, predictable yet erratic.

Aaron wanted to laugh, but he found himself too weak to even move his lips. His father oh so desperately wanted to protect his child from the Fair Folk, from the monsters who lurked and lived on the edges of the wild. But the only thing Aaron was in danger of was succumbing to an awfully mundane death from the cold.

He hadn't remembered much from then on. It was a jumbled, blurred, a mess of glacial hands, warm hands, mumblings of children from a boyish voice, and a lyrical language spoken in a baritone voice foreign to Aaron's ears.

Someone had picked him up, a person with hair whiter than the snow, and porcelain-like skin. They appeared to be one with the snow, the resulting child of the unforgiving winter hail and blizzard. Icicles dangled like jewels off the edges of their thick winter cloak, adorning them beautifully like an ornament. What stood out the most was those amethyst eyes, boring into him as if they could penetrate through secrets most dearest through his heart.

That was all he recollected, until everything had became static.

-

[capitalisticveins]

D.A.M.N Crew Headcanons Part 2 (Ft. Kody, Xavier, and Hudson)

Author’s Note: Apparently I only wrote 1 DAMN crew headcanon? Let’s fix that. Anyway what headcanons yall want next bc I’m OFFICIALLY NOT SICK ANYMORE

- Freelancer tends to grow out their hair without realizing.

- One of Huxley’s moms has a southern accent that the other simply adores.

- Lasko’s hair is either curly and reaches his ears, or long and fluffy and touches his butt.

- Gavin has nipple piercings.

- Damien hates the idea of forehead piercings.

- No matter how simply you explain the game to him, Caelum will never understand how to play Go Fish.

- Damien and David would make great friends.

- Xavier used to run around campus screaming the lyrics to “Let it Go” while wearing a random flowy dress and freezing the floors he stepped on. Whenever he was caught he threatened to make a castle then and there if someone touched him.

- He very much could do it but he never actually did.

- Huxley has a teddy bear. He doesn’t remember how or when he got it, he just…has it. But god forbid anyone tries to take it from him.

- Whenever Lasko draws, he draws people with a “:3” face.

- Caelum has drawn those lime lips people hate so much.

- Gavin thrives on VRChat.

- If Freelancer had their way, they’d be in bed until 4pm.

- Whenever Kody had his “mandatory counselor meetings” after he bridged with Freelancer, he’d ever so slightly, yet constantly, dampen the plants in his counselor’s office so they’d die.

- Once, when Caelum couldn’t convince Freelancer to wake up, Gavin came over and played a very annoying “wake up call” from a radio show host. That woke them up.

- Damien loves Hell’s Kitchen. Not because he likes seeing Gordon yell at chefs, but because he likes seeing chefs who do a good job cooking receive praise.

- Xavier and Huxley prefer the chewy Chips Ahoy cookies (as they should).

- Lasko’s alarm is so soothing it actually puts him back to sleep.

- Caelum has a Nintendo 3DS.

- Huxley met Lasko when a stray football hit Lasko square in the face and Huxley came up to check if he’s okay.

- Kody prefers honey barbeque chips.

- Damien loves the snow. Even if he feels weak and vulnerable during the winter, he loves how it looks and how it feels. He’s never lost a snowball fight either.

- Xavier preferred online classes. Not because it was easy to skip and sleep through, but because it was genuinely easier (to him).

- Lasko has asthma.

- Kody used to have his hair in a ponytail, now he just keeps it out.

- Freelancer can double dutch.

- Gavin can’t but don’t tell him that.

- Caelum has tiny little wings that can just barely pick him up off the ground if he flaps hard enough. He can float anyway, but he likes flapping his wings.

- Damien likes soft cookies, so if he’s given a hard one, he’ll microwave it until it’s soft and melty.

- Lasko likes durian fruit.

- Huxley collects fidget toys

- And igneous rocks.

- Gavin had a pet fish he won, but it died, so he fed it to a stray cat.

- Lasko doesn’t know about the existence of oatmeal raisin cookies.

- Freelancer likes tres leches.

- Sometimes, Caelum stays up past his “bedtime” to use his Nintendo 3DS.

- Whenever Delphinus checks on him in the middle of the night, he swiftly shuts his DS and stuffs it under his pillow as he pretends to be asleep. He’d get away with it too if it wasn’t for Mario saying “Bye bye!” as it closes.

[g-t-prompts-all-the-time]

Do you think asthmatic borrower just pass away? My asthma makes it almost impossible to sleep during winter, and ends up with me needing my inhaler a million times a day, and coughing louder than I speak.

I can’t imagine that would be good for borrowers who want to stay healthy and undetected