#anyway i'm very itchy but i have been out and about which is rare for me and it was a really nice few days

[fezwearingjellybananas]

The problem with taking public transport for me, or being in cafés or restaurants or pretty much anywhere there are lots of people is that I am surrounded by many people wearing many different clothes and some of those clothes I may be allergic to but I have no knowledge of which and they don't know I'm allergic. And sometimes with allergies when it gets up my nose probably according to the paramedic I saw one time is that it isn't an immediate reaction, it's just there when I wake up the next morning, which means I don't know exactly when it happened or what caused it outside of I know what I'm allergic to and what always causes it, and it means I didn't take a piriton right after it happened so now it is doing the thing where it lasts ages and my face feels bad and hot and horrible and the cream helps in the long run but actually doesn't feel that great to smother all over my face so all in all great fun.

The good news is that while the itchiness is all the way down to my shoulders I'm not that puffy or red this time so my eyes are fine this time except I think I just put cream in one of them.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

Quid Pro Quo | Michael Gavey x fem!reader

Summary: After being ditched by her friend at the Trinity College Christmas Party, she finds herself enthralled with learning the language of Michael Gavey | Word Count: 3.8k~ | Warnings below the cut!

Part Two: Carpe Diem Part Three: Veni, Vidi, Vici

warnings: virgin michael, semi-public sexual conduct, oral sex (m receiving), heavy petting

If she has to listen to Professor Wardon swoon over Ancient Greek and how it ‘drove him to pursue his dreams in extending his passion to other students’, she thinks she might actually fall asleep.

She's in a good spot to do so, nestled between two other students, the one on her right seemingly just as bored as her, and conveniently hidden behind a tall, lanky first year, who sits straight, with his head perfectly obscuring hers as he fixes his posture regularly.

Several times throughout, she's checked her watch, and yet the second hand never seems to move an inch.

Professor Wardon is just about to go on a lovesick spiel about Homeric Greek when the lecture concludes with a heaved sigh from every student as they sling their hefty bags over their shoulders.

“Remember I want 2,500 words on Les Liaisons dangereuses in my pigeon hole by next Thursday, before your Christmas parties!” 

“Oh joy,” she sighs with a grin to the girl walking shoulder to shoulder beside her as they leave, feeling noticeably lighter knowing that that's their last lecture before Christmas break.

“Christ, you're telling me. I can't be arsed to even right my own name at the moment, nevermind read 18th century fucking French.”

She gives a snort in reply, “Merry Christmas to us, eh? Should do what the French do and have a revolution or something.”

“Yeah, eat our lecturers or something.”

“Alright, I wouldn't go that far.”

“Anyway, I'm off to T Library, see ya, have a good Christmas and don't do anything I wouldn't!”

She waves her off as her friend disappears, the cold air of the outside nipping at her skin that manages to sneak beneath her coat.

Oxford University is not what she imagined at all. She came here very much feeling like an outsider, like there'd been some sort of paperwork mistake and it was supposed to be someone else in her place. 

The imposter syndrome seemed difficult to shift, but she'd at least managed to make a couple of friends since starting in September.

Languages had always found her well, and seemingly the only thing she managed to actually understand. People were inconsistent, cruel and fickle. Languages, though they shifted and changed, were firmly rooted in reason and understanding. 

As sad as it sounded, conjugating verbs, vowel shifts and rare dialects were the one thing she found herself itching to discover more about. The idea that there was more to uncover seemed exciting and scary at the same time.

And Oxford University was the best place she could be to do that.

All that said, her eagerness to get involved with her studies had left her social life with much to be desired.

In the first two weeks of university alone, she'd gained one friend and lost a boyfriend. And while they were drifting apart anyway, it was still a relatively large blow to her self-esteem and her confidence to actually get out there, socialise and make the most of her first year of freedom.

The only friends she'd made were those on her course. Priya, who'd just abandoned her to stick her nose in books about the Great Vowel Shift, and Anya, who…to be honest, rarely left her room. Seeming more like a ghost than anything else.

It was a wonder she was still a student, with how often she missed classes.

What Anya does do best, is manage to somehow rise out of her pit to drag her to Christmas parties that aren't even run by their college.

Which is why she finds herself somehow at Trinity College campus, where she eyes several scantily clad women wearing revealing Santa costumes adorned with itchy tinsel.

Anya is the sort of girl who, well, every girl kind of wants to be. So much so she sort of wonders why she hangs around with her. She's pretty, fit and fucking clever. Her only downfall is her taste in men, so often being Oxford pretty boys.

So it is absolutely no surprise at all, when two jägerbombs in, Anya has somehow slipped into the arms of one aforementioned Oxford pretty boy, seeming in every way a clone of the previous, with the exception of the way he pairs his Ayia Nappa top with his low rise jeans and the only effort to conform to  theme, is a pair of plastic reindeer antlers on his head bobbling side to side.

She grimaces as she watches them suck each other's faces off in a dark corner of the room, ‘Stay Another Day’ by East 17 blaring with a cheap crackle through the speakers as she makes her way through the bodies to somewhere quiet.

She sighs, nursing the rum and coke Anya had sloppily poured her in one hand as she closes the door behind her, shutting out the drunken squeals and cheers for the peace of a quiet common room.

It's still decorated, she notes, but empty. Maybe she could lurk here until Anya is done, if she ever will be.

The deep clack of a pool ball being sucked into a socket makes her jump, realising perhaps that she was not actually alone, as she'd previously thought.

The cool light hung above the battered pool table illuminates his deep red jumper, and the first thing she sees is the way he leans on one leg, standing straight as if he was imitating the rigid pool cue leant before him. The yellow lined detailing around the cuffs highlights his small wrists and big hands that stretch from it as he rubs blue chalk onto the tip.

Her eyes trail up the back of his neck, past the lazy waves of dark blonde hair, clearly due a trim at some point, and to his face, even from this angle able to see how his features sit. With a sharp nose and jawline, and black skinny glasses perched above his cheekbones.

She almost laughs at the way he's almost as tall as the light that illuminates the table, half-thinking that she might never have seen such a strange and yet interesting looking guy.

“Didn't fancy the party?” she finally says, alerting him to her presence.

She doesn't quite expect the way the light bounces off his sharp features, sinking his blue eyes in shadow as his head turns to her with an expression of boredom.

“Not particularly, no.” 

His voice is lighter than she thought it would be and part of her wonders if he's putting it on. He presses his glasses further up his nose before assessing his next shot, stalking around the table.

“Why's that?”

This time, when he answers, he doesn't look at her. He simply leans down, and aims.

“Not. Fucking. Invited,” he replies bitterly, missing a yellow, “that's why.”

Her fingertips moisten against the glass as the ice begins to melt, but she pays it no mind.

“So you're lurking about in here instead.”

He plays with the cue in one hand, barely sparing a second glance, a bitter, quiet laugh escaping him.

He misses another red before he heaves a sigh, straightening to look at her again.

“You here alone as well?” he asks dispassionately.

She smiles lazily and shrugs.

“My mate is…a bit preoccupied, if you know what I mean,” she replies, taking an awkward sip of the now watered down drink, “like you, I don't really think these are my thing either.”

He seems to consider her statement for a moment.

“Why come then?”

She shrugs again, “trying to be sociable.”

“With those vapid cunts? Good luck getting any intelligent conversation out of them.”

She watches as he picks up the blue chalk again, applying more when he doesn't even need it in sort of a nervous gesture, his blue eyes averted and pretending to assess his next move.

There's something about him. How judgemental he is and how he forms his words. Perhaps she hadn't expected this sort of guy to be so outwardly honest with his opinions, and for the most part, she can't say she disagrees with the message, just the way in which he said it.

“Can I play?” She asks, leaning over to put her drink down.

“What are you reading?” He asks so suddenly, and out of context, that she does a double take.

She raises her eyebrows, smiling, “Does my answer depend on if I get to play or not?”

There's no answer from him. Shocker of the century.

“Modern Languages.”

“Fucking hell,” he groans.

She's a bit too happy and dizzy on rum to get defensive.

“Is that one of those subjects that sounds way less interesting than it actually ends up being?”

She gives a breathy laugh, “just like languages.”

He hums, as if the answer didn't impress him, “more of a science and numbers man myself, obviously.”

For a moment, it's lost on her why it's obvious.

He takes a sip of his, no doubt, stale beer, wetting his lips after, “Your name is?”

She narrows her eyes teasingly, smiling as she leans against the table, “quid pro quo.”

She enjoys the brief confusion on his face, before he realises what she's said.

“Okay, okay, Michael.”

She smiles, “See? You know what that meant. Who says you're not a languages man?”

It's the first time he seems to duck his head, hiding a blush she's barely able to see.

“I don’t think the Ancient Roman idea of fair exchange warrants the title of ‘languages man’.” 

The blue chalk comes off on his hands as he fiddles nervously with it.

“So, am I bestowed the privilege of playing?”

He raises his head, and she can tell he's trying his damndest to not let a little beer-induced smile pass his lips.

“I suppose I could allow you to embarrass yourself in front of me for a bit, if you insist. We'll have to share a cue though.”

She doesn't have the heart to tell him her uncle was a pool player, and so by extension, has played pool for most of her upbringing. Rather, he finds out himself when she pots three yellows in a row.

It's either the alcohol or pity that kicks in when she misses the fourth, holding the cue for him to take.

“You being good at pool wasn't on my bingo card,” he mutters with some nervous teasing in his voice.

They go back and forth for a bit, missing some, potting some, with interspersed conversation between. 

“Thought you might have been a Norman-no -mates, like me,” he says quietly as he watches her assess her next shot. Bending to aim.

“You're not far off,” she replies, “first fortnight I was down a boyfriend. Since then, I've only been up two friends and one of them is in the other room  having ditched me for the shag of a lifetime.”

She doesn't see it until after she takes the shot, the way his eyes flit back to hers quickly as she rights herself to stand.

Was he checking me out?

As if he was lagging, he only laughs now at what she's said.

“What about you?” She asks, “no girls, or boys, on the scene?”

He blushes a lot when she asks that. And she can't help the fluttering in her chest she feels that someone might find her attractive.

“Can’t say there is.”

She stands close, passing the cue to him, electricity warming her fingertips as she grazes his.

“And why not?”

He scoffs bitterly, “have you seen me?” he mutters, wandering around the table, suddenly unable to shake the feeling of her gaze, “Not too many girls out there looking for the stereotypical nerdy math boy, really.”

“Hm,” she hums, “how unfortunate for them.”

He sinks a red, picking at his red jumper.

“Yeah, they're clearly missing out, huh?”

The bitter and self-deprecating tone of his voice makes her heart sink a bit. He's not a bad looking guy, she thinks. His style, glasses, hair, she would almost say look actually quite cute.

Maybe that's the thing he doesn't like.

“No interest? Or is maths the only one for you?”

He misses the next shot and sighs, holding the cue for her to take, “clearly, the only one I need.”

She steps close to retrieve, taking her time, looking up at him as she does. At this proximity, Michael sucks in a breath quietly, his lips, which she can't say she'd noticed until right this moment, parting and his Adam's apple bobbing as his eyes flit rapidly down her.

A warmth swirls in her gut at that.

She circles the table, “what about in the past?” 

He leans against the other side, his hand on the cushion, long fingers splayed on the green fabric. She has to shake her head to break her own trance.

“Can’t say my love life has exactly been a roaring success, honestly.”

The way he says it.

She wouldn't be surprised if he was…

Oh.

“So what? You're focussed on your studies?”

She misses. Too set on the conversation rather than the game.

He gives a mirthless laugh, “Sure.”

She rounds the table, holding the cue for him to take, but when he reaches for it, she pulls back with a smirk.

“So we've established you're not one for languages,” she starts, and Michael furrows his brows in confusion, “have you ever really asked for what you want? Ever?”

He seems to miss what she's trying to say.

“Have you been with a girl?”

At that, his eyes widen slightly, a blush crawling up his neck to the tips of his ears, cheeks near matching his shirt.

She knows she has her answer.

“Well…I…no, I haven't…”

At chest height, she can see the way his breathing elevates.

“And, hypothetically, if a girl expressed interest. What would you say?”

His lips part for a good few seconds before he gives a reply, “I’d…I um…I guess it depends who…”

It's like he's afraid she'll make fun of him for it. 

“What about, if it was me?” She asks, her voice lowering as she reaches out to pick some lint off his jumper, like it's the most normal thing in the world. His body goes all rigid as she does.

This isn't normal in his world.

Michael swallows thickly, “you're not taking the Mick out of me, are you?”

She shakes her head, “I just want you to feel comfortable asking for what you want.”

For someone who had so often thought about it, now when faced with the situation, he feels as if he doesn't know what to do or say.

She's still stood with the cue in one hand, close enough so that when she shifts her weight from foot to foot, her knee grazes his leg. It's interesting to watch him think so deeply about it. Convinced he's probably never thought of anything so much in his life.

“What if what I want is…you?”

The tension deepens like the tone and volume of his voice. And without effort, a smile finds its way to her face when she looks at his expression. He's frozen stiff, for once, not knowing what to say.

So nothing shocks her more when he grabs the pool cue as a means of pulling her to him, and he has to duck considerably to press his lips clumsily to hers. He's eager, that much is true, but it's clear he's inexperienced. But instead of causing discomfort, she thinks it's quite endearing.

The pool cue clangs to the floor as she braces her hands on his shoulders and chest, guiding his lips with her own in a slower, more careful movement. She feels the edge of the pool table bite into her lower back when he presses her against it, clearly excited, if the hardness that's flush to her stomach is anything to go by.

The hands she had been staring at not half an hour ago are bruising as they trace her waist and hips, with a grip tight enough to tell her exactly how much he's enjoying the experience.

For a moment, they're not in a common room alone, against a pool table, with ‘Cheetah-licious Christmas’ playing in the room over, the bass of which rumbles through the floor and into their chests.

The kiss lasts a long while, and she has a feeling he wants to savour it as if it's the last time he will ever be able to do it. 

One of her hands snakes its way to the back of his head, fingers gripping at his hair to pull him closer as either of them tilt to aid more contact between them. And at the little amount of tugging, Michael whines into her mouth, prompting him to pull away.

He looks halfway between mortified and pleased, his glasses having skewed to one side with the eagerness of what they'd done. And she laughs a bit, reaching up to fix them, which seems to make the mortification fade somewhat from his face.

Michael looks down between them, where his obvious erection is pressed to her, and pulls away slightly with a scarlet blush.

“Shit - sorry-”

“It's fine,” she reassures, “no need to be embarrassed.”

The words alone would be enough, if her hand hadn't snaked between their bodies to brush her palm over him. And if it were possible, his flush spreads to his neck, words failing him once more.

Her eyes flicker up to his, their lips all kiss-bruised and swollen.

“If you don't want to-”

“No, no, I want to…” he says, immediately embarrassed about how quick it was.

She smiles, one hand palming him through his jeans and the other trailing up his chest, “Sit down.”

He backs up to sit on a nearby sofa, watching with a kind of adoration as she makes space between his legs, her eyes glimmering at him as she slowly undoes his belt.

“If at any time, you need to stop, tell me.”

He gives a nervous laugh, his stomach muscles tightening, wondering probably if this is really happening to him, “Not sure I will want to…”

She smiles reassuringly, watching as his lips part as she palms him through his boxers, trying to suppress how impressed she is with his size.

It's always the skinny white guys.

“Well, the offer's there.” She smirks, pulling him from his boxers, Michael gives a suffered breath, feeling her touch on him and also her breath so close. He almost feels dizzy. The thought of this happening in this situation, with a party going on next door, is dangerous and exciting in equal measure.

She knows he has very limited experience, so decides not to tease him too much.

Michael gasps softly as she licks at the base of him, drawing a wet line with her tongue along the vein underneath, all the way to the tip. She concentrates her efforts slightly on the sensitive spot there before closing her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking gently.

She feels the way his thighs tense, and the blue disappearing as he closes his eyes. His fists are tight beside him, knuckles white, like he doesn't know if he should touch her or not. All he knows right now is that this feeling is brand new, and the sensation is so much already.

She pulls herself from him to run her tongue over his length, one hand moving to his hand, to encourage him. His blue eyes crack open just a bit, to understand what she's trying to tell him.

And she fights the urge to smile as his longer fingers swipe across her temple into her hair, his touch tender, soft and unsure as he holds her by it. 

Her lips wrap around him once more, pushing him further into her mouth, taking him steadily and slowly at first. Michael's hips move barely, chasing the friction that he's getting on his cock when she bobs her head on him and hollows her cheeks.

He watches with parted lips and warm cheeks, moving her hair away so he can watch himself disappear into her mouth over and over. Her hand massages the rest of him, giving him two unique sensations in one, something that earns her a deep, throaty moan.

When her eyes open to look at him, he thinks his heart stops in his chest for a split second. He closes his eyes, not able to bear the way she looks with his cock in her mouth if she looks right at him, feeling that if he did any longer he wouldn't last.

The sounds he emits don't stop there as she increases her pace on him, pressing her tongue to the underside of him and taking him deeper into her throat, humming around him at the heady scent of his skin.

It's only when she takes him as far as he will go, working hard to control her gag reflex that he gives the first genuine buck of his hips, tightening in her hair and a far-too-loud moan. If anyone in the next room were quiet and paying attention, they'd likely know exactly what was going on.

“Fuck-”

It only serves to spur her on as she pulls back, moving in a more steady, quick rhythm, that she is sure Michael is loving judging by the rate of his moans and the way he chokes out his words.

His stomach clenches and unclenches, his high creeping up on him as her mouth tightens around his length. 

“Shit - you need to - I'm gonna -” he chokes, weakly tugging her hair in an effort to pull her mouth off him before he cums.

If she didn't have his cock in her mouth she'd smile.

Her hand squeezes the base of him, and Michael throws his head back slightly, a long shuddered and choked moan reverberating through his chest. She swears she feels his thighs shake as she stills, warm ropes of his cum taste musky at the back of her throat.

His loud moan is followed quickly by more softer ones as her throat contracts to swallow as much as she can, briefly increasing the tension and friction around his sensitive length.

When she pulls off him with a pleased sigh, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, Michael sits up slightly, having to gather his breath.

“Fucking hell…”

She takes it as a compliment and rises to her feet, her hands smoothing her skirt back down.

And she squeaks in delight as Michael quickly tucks himself away, barely doing up his jeans buttons before backing her up to the pool table again, kissing her fervently.

“What about you…do I…” he starts when he breaks away, panting softly. She smiles at the notion but shakes her head. This experience was for him alone.

“Not right now, don't feel inclined to,” she reassured, her hands on his chest, feeling the way his heart is beating rapidly beneath it.

“Right now?” he asks with a quiet, unsure tone, “does that mean…there's gonna be a next time?”

His tone is careful, and yet, she is able to detect something like desire there. An excitement for more, without seeming too eager so that he's not let down if she says no. Something that makes it clear he is 100% on board.

She bites back a grin.

“Quid Pro Quo, Michael.”

General Taglist: @aemondsfavouritebastard @bellstwd @blairfox04 @buckybarnesb-tch @castellomargot @hb8301 @jamespotterismydaddy @mochi-rose @natty2017 @nenelysian @randomdragonfires @risefallrise @thelittleswanao3 @theoneeyedprince @thetrueblackheart @tsujifreya @urmomsgirlfriend1 @valeskafics @virtualsweetsqueen @watercolorsky @fan-goddess

[sylvia-forest]

[CN] Shaw's 2024 Birthday ASMR — Brushing Strokes

⚡Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an ASMR which hasn't released in EN yet!⚡

[Released Date: 17 June 2024]

[Door opens and closes]

Coming?

Sit down first

Wait until I finish writing this post

[screeching of a chair sound]

Tsk

My point is not to ask you to drag a chair over to the table.

Nor am I trying to criticize you.

Don't accuse me unfairly.

What I mean is…

[Shaw sighs]

never mind

I'm not interested

You look good sitting here

sit down

What's up?

Don't feel like sitting anymore?

OK OK

inspect as you please.

[rustling of pages]

Why practice calligraphy

[Shaw sighs]

A little annoyed lately

So I'm giving myself some assignments.

[Shaw clicks his tongue]

Is it really that surprising that I'm practicing calligraphy?

Oh….

It's rare to see me upset

Concerned about me?

[Shaw chuckles]

nothing

Recently, some of the old music fans haven't been coming to the Live House.

I don't mind much, 

but Adam and Jensen are unhappy about it.

So the atmosphere in the band has been a bit down.

Huh

Me?

I do not mind

Anyway, out with the old, in with the new.

Do they love coming or not?

Not being able to hear Isolated's music is their loss.

Really.

I don’t need to be stubborn in front of you

Are you a three-year-old kid, always asking 'why' and getting to the bottom of things?

If you have time to gossip…

….tsk

How about helping me grind ink instead?

[Shaw scoffs]

Huh? 

I grind the ink and you do the writing?

You're reversing the roles, huh?

no problem

I'll help you add fragrance to your “poetic creation”.

Feel free to use any of the brushes on the rack.

I recommend this one

relatively light

But I haven’t used this brush yet.

You need to start writing first.

Don't know how?

[Shaw sighs in defeat]

It's quite simple.

Come

It's hard now, right?

[sound of water dripping]

Put it in the water first

Rub it from the tip of the brush.

right

Go up slowly

Rub it all the way to the root of the brush

Not enough.

You need to rub it until the hair is completely spread out.

Mm

Almost there.

Rinse it off.

Brush away any loose hairs and moisture.

Hm

good

Let me grind some ink for you to try.

Here we go.

Looks quite decent.

Vertical, horizontal stroke, horizontal, horizontal...

...violent.

Dot, dot, horizontal stroke, horizontal.

...wealth

I know you can’t write anything good

Eh!

There's still ink on the brush

[MC splashes ink on Shaw ‘accidentally’]

Tsk…

My clothes... 

Have I turned into a flower-faced cat?

[Shaw's voice lowers an octave, sounding dangerous]

Who did this?

Feeling guilty?

I don't want tissues

[Shaw deliberately lowers his voice]

I want………

[MC trying to run away but got caught]

tit for tat

[sound of Shaw’s heavy breathing + something drops on the floor]

Still want to run?

Admit your mistake?

No use.

Today, I must draw a couple of strokes for you.

Then you'll behave.

[Shaw chuckles + his sexy breathing x1]

Are you so scared that you have to close your eyes?

[the atmosphere is quite heavy here + his sexy breathing x2 GOD]

You were quite stylish when you splashed ink on me just now.

Hold it in.

Even if it's itchy.

Wasn't it like this last time I painted for you?

[Shaw scoffs]

Of course, I have a good memory

But a calligraphy brush is much more versatile than a colored pen.

It can create various changes.

Can you tell what type of pen I'm using right now?

If you guess it right, I'll stop writing.

Not guessing?

Then I'm going to continue

After all, we can't "waste" this piece of fine rice paper.

[Shaw barely holding himself back]

Are you sure you don't want to guess?

Then let me enlighten you.

This is

A pointed, stiff-haired brush.

I usually use it for writing small regular scripts.

You have to write very slowly, very slowly.

[Shaw takes a deep breath and continues whispering sexily]

Horizontal, flat, vertical, straight

This is soft

I don't use it much

So, controlling the brush isn't easy.

Easy and light

Applying more pressure 

affects how much ink is released, 

and it's tricky to control.

Use a little more force

Just like this…

[the beast is unleashed, he drops the brush and starts kissing her ferociously]

[SO MANY MOUTH-WATERING KISSES + HIS SEXY CHUCKLE]

This last one

is a pointed brush.

you should remember

It's the thickest one on the shelf

Especially suitable for writing large characters

With one stroke,

you can make an impression on the back of the paper.

[AGAIN STARTS KISSING HER, I LOST COUNT]

Hello

You've already been bullied by me like this.

Still not opening your eyes?

[His sexy chuckle when teasing her]

alright

I lied to you.

I just dipped it in water.

—

[catastrothy]

here is a little chronicle of my sickness journey btw. bc i feel like i need to write this down because its been hilariously awful lol

warning 4 gross stuff, oversharing, and me bitching, unsurprisingly

back in early august i got sick with what i thought was a cold. basic symptoms, fever, achiness, runny nose, etc. things are relatively normal at first, i've gotten sick dozens of times because i'm particularly prone to sinus and ear infections so i brushed it off

And Then The Hives Began.

all over my limbs and very rarely on my torso and neck. even had one on my face. at one point my throat got very itchy and i had a panic attack thinking i would get anaphylaxis for the first time in my life. thankfully i took a shitton of claritin + pepcid + benedryl and it kicked in fast enough that i was okay

i go to the local urgent care. the doctor is amazing and gives a shit and prescribes me some steroids + recommends i keep taking what i've been taking. tells me to follow up with my primary doctor and to come back if things get worse.

Things Continue To Get Worse.

i go to my primary doctor. she is not very helpful. i've been thinking of switching providers anyway because i'm moving and this has kind of solidified this decision because i'm told "well that's weird! just uhh. keep taking your antihistamines and don't go out in public. good luck :)" the only thing is its been a hot minute since i switched providers and i dont really remember what the process is like and i will inevitably get social anxiety about it.

this continues for a while. i'm managing, i feel like shit. but i am managing. now here comes the really gross part. this morning (9/15/23) i am chilling on my computer. i go to scratch my stomach, only to find... there is crust. around my belly button. why is my belly button so crusty? what? it turns out there is discharge of some sort coming from there. why? who knows! it's not too painful but between the fact my fever is now higher than it's ever been (although still a low grade one) and i have this unexplained discharge it throws me into one of the worst panic attacks i've had in a while. all the worst case scenarios (sepsis, my second greatest phobia besides anaphylaxis) are running through my head but i remind myself every time i've thought shit was mega fucked it turned out okay. mira also helps comfort me and im able to collect myself and go to the urgent care (again). also on top of this i have like 3 cold sores and my period going at the same time so i am extra suffering!!!!!!!!!!

the doctor there is again really understanding and wonderful. i love this woman. she tests me for flu, covid, strep, and mono. she says she tests for mono specifically because a lot of other doctors miss it and make patients suffer for no reason. all tests come back negative thankfully (or maybe unthankfully... because we still dont know what the fuck i got). she puts me on like 5 new different meds (antiviral, antibiotic, steroid, nausea meds, and an antifungal to help if i get a yeast infection while on the antibiotic). at this point i am genuinely wishing i could make this lady my primary doctor but alas, 'tis not to be.

i am now given 1 shot each of antibiotic and steroid. one in each butt cheek. my ass hurts so badly. sitting is vaguely uncomfortable.

i am given some gauze and also told to buy dial soap for the belly button infection. i go home and lay on the couch. and thus this is where we are now

also my electric company charged me like $200 for electricity which we do not have atm so thats a cool cherry on top

anyway moral of the story is that my immune system is garbage and i wish it attacked the virus instead of me <3

[mlobsters]

supernatural s1e15 the benders (w. john shiban)

(this is a rewatch so spoilers abound)

starting off with the xf vibe in the teaser music, which this whole episode is very xfiles home (s4e2).... homage. beginning is surprisingly memorable just because it's not what i expected, i'm always stressed when a kid shows up but not this time!

also didn't realize hibbing minnesota was so far north, past duluth! i lived in the twin cities for 8 years or so. i guess donna was from hibbing, but no one lived there. but there was an episode title with hibbing in it (10x08) hence some of my confusion. anyway. to the bad humans!

(padalecki still with the crispy R on crazy. now i'm wondering if he always uses it and i just stopped noticing at some point)

so priest and state trooper, side swept bangs 📝

EVAN Godzilla Vs. Mothra. DEAN That’s my favorite Godzilla movie. It’s so much better than the original, huh? EVAN Totally. DEAN Yeah. (He nods towards SAM.) He likes the remake. EVAN Yuck!

very cute

i used this bar scene in my fanvid to texas hold 'em and that neon sign in my tennessee whiskey painting lol (though i ended up putting them mostly in front of it but you can see a lil bit)

SAM Well, there are all kinds. You know, Spring Heeled Jacks, phantom gassers. They take people anywhere, anytime.

shoulda had more monstery-monster of the week eps

SAM Right. I saw a motel about five miles back. DEAN Whoa, whoa, easy. Let’s have another round. SAM We should get an early start.

DEAN Yeah, you really know how to have fun, don’t you, Grandma? (SAM smiles.) Alright, I’ll meet you outside, I gotta take a leak.

it was cute, sam basically gave him a very nice smile to the grandma comment and dean caved. might make gifs if i remember to - i made the gifs to avoid picking this back up. also shows just rarely talk about using the bathroom, course this was a plot-related bathroom visit to get them separated, so. not sure it really falls into the masculinity tag i got going but anytime we go with a woman instead of man, gonna tag it

this music is so cliche tension danger sounding but also like, not at all matching the vibe of the show? too loud, and like a parody. ugh. i will give you one guess who it is... (gruska, of course)

DEAN Sam? Two beers and he’s doin’ karaoke. No, he wasn’t drunk. He was taken. KATHLEEN Alright. What’s his name? DEAN Winchester. Sam Winchester. KATHLEEN Like the rifle? DEAN Like the rifle.

insert something insightful about the hunters having an extremely on the nose last name :p also don't know if we ever really know what sam's tolerance is like

i 100% took screenshots of the computer screen first watch because they just copied sam's height into dean's entry :p

DEAN Officer, look, uh, he’s family. I kind of—I kind of look out for the kid. You gotta let me go with you. KATHLEEN I’m sorry, I can’t do that. DEAN Well, tell me something. Your county has its fair share of missing persons. Any of ‘em come back? Sam’s my responsibility. And he’s comin’ back. I’m bringin’ him back.

eat that right up, you know it. this episode is chock full of protective dean goodness, after sam got to do it for him in 1x12.

s1e11 / s1e15

well i'll be! same thing sammy said to meg in the bus station that got me feeling extra mushy. that also had teleplay by john shiban. thank you, sir 🫡 did a little gif comparable thing too

~1 month later~ was gonna pull up an episode of evil, which has been my go-to evening show during my spn sabbatical and i just got the itchy feeling to want to blather at length while watching something. am i ready to watch spn again?? we will see.

JENKINS Why don’t you give it up, Sammy, there’s no way out. SAM Don’t….call me….Sammy!

damn right

my vacation away and literally the first scene with music back and i'm like godDAMNIT this music is obnoxious. in case i was worried i just had a stick up my ass about it, no it really is just my immediate gut reaction

anyway, bro's off getting the most dangerous game'd to bad music. shoulda listened to sam

DEAN Hey, Officer? Look, I don’t mean to press my luck. KATHLEEN Your luck is so pressed. DEAN Right. I was wondering—why are you helping me out, anyway? Why don’t you just lock me up? KATHLEEN My brother, Riley, disappeared three years ago. A lot like Sam. We searched for him, but—nothing. I know what it’s like to feel responsible for someone, and for them—Come on. Let’s keep at it.

had this storyline happened later, could see her slotting into the jody/donna type role

the most striking eyes

DEAN I gotta start carrying paper clips.

i mean, seems like he'd have something on his person. what with their vocation needing a variety of tools for less than legal shenanigans

ok what, did dean have this headshot of sam lying around?? lol. not one in my fairly comprehensive winchester family photos post

very necessary to have him stretched out over this sheriff wagon

DEAN Sam? Are you hurt? SAM No. DEAN Damn, it’s good to see you.

<3

DEAN Have you seen ‘em? SAM Yeah. Dude, they’re just people. DEAN And they jumped you? Must be gettin’ a little rusty there, kiddo.

it's just so sweet. i am a sucker

my hot take is that jensen loves slapstick humor and puts it in at any opportunity. we're dealing with like, people-hunting-cannibals, his brother and a sheriff are locked in cages that he needs to find a key for and yet! jensen is gonna have dean turn the flashlight on in his face and have a goofy reaction. TIME AND PLACE, BROTHER

anyway. there's been a lot of the xfiles noises this episode. very on brand

i think one of the most disturbing things about this episode are the pictures with the benders are posing with the people like a big game photo. enough that i don't even wanna include a screenshot of it

i wonder how the set design of this compares to the house at the end of s1 true detective. and obviously the set for xf home. maybe i'll pull up some comparisons and see if it's worth doing A Post

i think why the game polaroids are so impactful vs this is like. this is very campy over the top. old timey music playing on the phonograph, traps and saw blades hanging from the ceiling, man making these wildly exaggerated swings with the cleaver and saw

i will admit that i saw something at a formative age that had an incredibly upsetting situation with a hot poker and so this scene also is distressing. at least it's not threatening sexual violence this time. but objectively, that's a gorgeous shot

DEAN You hurt my brother, I’ll kill you, I swear. I’ll kill you all. I will kill you all!

you know i can't resist that, eat it right up

so rare they're in short sleeves, has to be an even smaller number of times they fight someone in them

so beautiful. she was really good in this part

DEAN Never do that again. SAM Do what? DEAN Go missin’ like that. (SAM laughs.) SAM You were worried about me. DEAN All I’m sayin’ is, you vanish like that again, I’m not lookin’ for ya. SAM Sure, you won’t. DEAN I’m not. (SAM chuckles.) SAM So, you got sidelined by a thirteen-year-old girl, huh? DEAN Oh, shut up. SAM Just sayin’, gettin’ rusty there, kiddo. DEAN (chuckling) Shut up. (SAM laughs.)

i didn't remember that last little bit, that was extra cute. i will be making more gifs 😩

[jensenpaige]

7.25.2024

it's boiling hot in los angeles. it's boiling hot everywhere in the northern hemisphere, presumably. I try not to think about climate change too much, I was a vegetarian for three and a half years until my chronic illnesses got so out of hand that a nutritionist was like dude you have to eat meat so now I eat chicken and my symptoms are much more manageable and even still, my vegetarianism was not saving the planet, I know this.

I have two crushes. life really does shimmer with much more purpose when you have a crush. the shimmer does not compound exponentially with each crush but it does allow me to do what I refer to as "diffusing my romantic energy," i.e. it prevents me from obsessing over one man. the two men are very different, except for the fact that they both take up tremendous physical space. I am rereading elif batuman's the idiot right now, among other texts I'm reading for the first time, and it's fascinating how much of the central love interest, Ivan, is defined by his large stature. I don't think his exact height is ever specified, but he is referred to at least once as a "seven foot tall Hungarian." neither of my crushes are seven feet tall (or Hungarian? though I can't be sure about that, I guess), but they are tall, and they are strong, much taller and much stronger than I could ever be. as a tall woman it is remarkable to be in the presence of men who are much larger than you, it doesn't happen very often, at least for me. gender is no binary, of course, and it's a performance, sure, but I find myself attuned to innate masculineness and femininity when I am around these large men. being friends with trans and nonbinary people has forced me to be critical of my own gender performance, and has made me endlessly curious about how I can make and remake femininity in my own image. anyway, it is very enjoyable for me to feel small among men, principally when I also feel safe among them.

I was having a flare of one of my chronic illnesses, or was it both, because one begets the other, in many ways...in order to manage my symptoms, I engage in intermittent fasting, or go a few days on a liquid diet, as it seems that my symptoms are exacerbated by the act of digestion. there is a poem there, but I am too tired to find it. ever since reintroducing meat into my diet, my flares are less intense and last for less time. but they haven't gone away. I eat an extremely restrictive diet, to the point that I cannot eat in restaurants and I prepare the same two meals for myself every day (it's rare I actually eat three). I have lost more weight than I ever managed to lose while trying to shrink myself on purpose. it is not the day at the beach that I anticipated. didn't I just speak about feeling small among men, yes, but to have shrunk this much can be frightening. I pass my reflection and marvel at how narrow I have become. my clothes are all too big. I am cold all the time. my bones stick out. and yet. I know that women watch me and covet me. I know because I used to do the same thing. I know there are women who would do almost anything to be this thin. they don't realize I would do almost anything to give it back.

anyway, the flare is ending, for now. chronic illness is weird. I want a better adjective for it. it's an exercise in recognizing your own stupidity, your cliched cognitive distortions. whatever is currently happening to you, you think it is going to be happening to you forever. when I am bedridden and fatigued and shaking and itchy and howling in pain, I worry this is what every day will be like. when I am clean and clear and light and flat and empty, I forget that I have ever known pain. when you are sick, you think you are dying. when you are well, you pretend you have been cured. it has been this way for me for three years; is there a point, I wonder, at which you understand the definition of the word chronic? when you truly engage with what it means to lapse and relapse, to remit and recur and over and over again because there is no cure for this and there is no finish line and sometimes your body will go quiet and sometimes it will be loud so loud you cannot hear anything else. will it be when I'm in my thirties, my forties. will I have a baby and will my immune system reset itself and finish with this painful business for good. I don't know. no one knows. your bloodwork looks good.

for the first time in a while I have hope about politics. I am not kamala's biggest fan. I am sure that during her administration I will be horrified, repulsed, devastated by the choices she and her staff make about our country and about the world. and yet. I believe that her presidency could have so much light in it. so much possibility. at a minimum, I brighten at the thought of my career cresting in time to sing at a harris white house. I was a little mixed race girl once, too. I wanted to be the president, then, when I didn't know what it meant to be the president. I do however want to be the mayor of los angeles. fleets of electric buses to make driving unfashionable so that we can then build out the metro. slashing the police budget and giving it to education. rent control and a UBI in the hopes of lifting the unhoused off the streets and the impoverished out of poverty. bringing back sweet little trollies because they are so cute. promise you'll vote for me, I'll see you at the ballot box in 15 years.

[ladydaemon]

SICK DAYS

kaz brekker x female! reader

A/N: Yes, I realize how cliché and very non-Kaz this is. I tried my best guys, but I am in the mood for fluff and only fluff so yeah.

Summary: After a night in the rain, Y/N has a cold and it's up to Kaz to take care of her, a difficult task indeed.

Warnings: swearing, really horrible writing, not proofread writing, just me spitting out Words™ at three in the morning

Dangerous assassins do not need sick days.

It was an extremely hypocritical thought, and Y/N knew it. She thought the thought anyway, because at this point, there seemed to be no aspect in her life that was not fueled entirely by spite.

"Please, for the love of the Saints, go to sleep, Y/N," Inej begged, forcing the woman back onto the bed. "You are sick. You need rest."

"I do not need rest, I need caffeine and waffles," the wheezing woman replied stubbornly, trying to get past Inej, who was blocking the doorway of her room. The Slat, usually thundering with noise and chatter, was silent as the grave - it was one of the rare days in Ketterdam where it was sunny, and everyone was either out enjoying the weather or enjoying pickpocketing someone who was enjoying the weather. "I am a grown-ass woman who also happens to be very good at using the bang-bang machines we call guns so please move aside, I need fresh air."

It was arguably entirely Y/N's fault that she was stuck inside in the first place - first, she had stayed out in the rain too long, despite Kaz's numerous protests. Second, she had, in a grave act of stupidity, gone down for breakfast the next morning. Normally, this would not have been a problem. However, on this particular day, her eyes were red and swollen and itchy and her lungs hurt and it was generally very obvious that she had a cold.

These were the deciding factors which led to her ultimate demise:

House arrest.

Though the fact that she was notorious for her spontaneous, impulsive, reckless, throw-caution-to-the-wind nature (along with the fact that Kaz, from multiple bad experiences he would rather not repeat, knew that she had nearly no self-preservation skills) probably had something to with it.

Also she apparently needed a chaperone. Which was probably a good idea, but Y/N wasn't about to admit that anytime soon.

"You are seventeen and you have a window, darling," the smooth voice of one Kaz Brekker, the devil himself, interrupted Y/N's feeble excuse of an escape.

"But Kaz," Y/N whined, pouting. Inej gave the man an exasperated look as if to say, See what I've been dealing with?

"Darling, you'll only have to stay here longer if you don't try and get better."

"Still."

Kaz, lips twitching in a very non-Kaz way, turned to Inej. "You can go. I suppose I'll play nursemaid."

The Wraith chucked darkly, already stepping out Y/N's window. "Good luck with that."

As soon as she had climbed out the room and was well out of earshot, Kaz turned on his heel and walked out. Y/N, thoroughly confused, took a second to contemplate whether this act was meant that she was officially free, or that she was supposed to follow him. Her question was answered a moment later when he called out, not sparing her a backwards glance, "Are you coming?"

She sighed dejectedly, following him up the stairs to hid room. With a flamboyant and smug bow, he opened the door for her. "Ladies first."

She rolled her eyes at him but entered the room nonetheless. Kaz closed the door behind him and strode heavily to his desk, taking the time to shuffle and order some papers. Y/N stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure as to what in the hell she was supposed to do. Kaz flicked his eyes up to her and jerked his head towards the black-sheeted bed that occupied almost a fourth of the room.

She stared at it for a moment. "You want me to sleep. On your bed. While you watch." It came out more an incredulous statement than a question.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I can't devote all my time to taking care of you, and I also can't leave you alone unsupervised while ill. This is our compromise," Kaz explained somewhat impatiently.

"I am not going to get in that crusty-ass bed, that, in case you have forgotten, belongs to my boss, AKA you. For all I know you sleep nude."

One of Kaz's eyebrows twitched. "The sheets were changed this morning. And for the record, I don't."

"Still not going to do it. That takes the creepy-o-meter to like, a thousand."

"You're a criminal who spies on brothels. This is nothing."

"Still not doing it. This feels fundamentally wrong."

"I'll buy you a nice dagger if you just shut up and get in the damn bed." Saints, he was already exasperated, and he had barely been here five minutes. A new respect for Inej found its way into his being.

Y/N went quiet for a minute, considering. "One of the serrated ones with the fancy gilded handles?"

"Whatever dagger your heart desires."

"Two daggers and a gun."

"One dagger and a gun."

"Deal," Y/N decided, plopping down on the bed. It still felt wrong, but she did need a new dagger - Wylan had blown hers up in a previous job.

She carefully peeled the pristine sheets and blankets away from the mattress, half expecting a dozen poisonous things to pop out. The only thing it released was the strangely comforting smell of wood oil and ink (and a bit of gunpowder, but this was Kaz Brekker we're talking about).

Y/N slipped beneath the covers, her head resting comfortably on the cloud-like pillows.

I bet this bitch sleeps like a baby every night.

"I can still beat your ass, Brekker," she mumbled. Yeah, she was sick, but she also had a reputation to uphold.

"On a regular day, I have no doubt about it. Currently, you are prohibited from doing anything that isn't sleeping, peeing, or contemplating life. Doctor's orders."

"Well, I'm going to go pee then. More freedom." She attempted to stand up from the surprisingly soft bed but the in the second it took for her to try and stand, Kaz, moving surprisingly quickly for a man with a cane, pinned her to the bed by her shoulders with an exasperated sigh.

"Just stay still. Please," he breathed.

"Get me a sweet bun and maybe," she breathed back, but didn't move. Despite her almost child-like demeanor, she was one of the original Dregs, here as a child even before Kaz. He had been the only one her age when he had joined, so naturally, she had befriended him (well, as much as you can befriend Kaz Brekker). She knew about his phobia of touch, and how much it meant that he was touching her, even with his gloves on.

Kaz released her with a sigh and stalked over to his desk where he rummaged around for a bit until he produced a small tin that looked abut as old as he was. He tossed it at her and she grabbed it, opening it to see some biscuits that looked as hard as rocks. "That's all I have, and all you're going get. Don't break a tooth."

Y/N sighed, staring at the biscuits mournfully before taking one out of the tin and gnawing on it. It would have been easier to bite on the barrel of one of Jesper's guns. "You're mean."

"You're acting like a petulant child."

Y/N made a disgruntled noise from the back of her throat, sinking back into the silk pillows and wrapping the blankets tighter around her. She had made no visible mark on the cookie, and had only succeeded in covering it with slobber. She put it back in the tin and noticed Kaz wrinkle his nose at her.

She doubted the biscuits would ever see the light of day again.

She watched Kaz do his paperwork, a surprisingly interesting thing to do. He had taken off his hat and jacket, and rolled up his sleeves. He even took his gloves off, preferring to use a pen without the ridiculous slipperiness of the leather. The papers shuffled in a soothing rhythm, and soon, Y/N began to feel less cooped up and a bit more relaxed.

Ever since she had been taken away from her family and thrown onto the tiny slaving ship, Y/N had always had a touch of claustrophobia (well, it was a bit more than a touch, but she wasn't willing to admit that just yet). The tiny room with a mattress on the flooor was really just a decoration at this point - she slept on the roof most nights and every waking hour was in Ketterdam, simply walking if there were no pockets to be picked.

Drowsily, she watched as Kaz scratched something out on paper, his face creasing ever so slightly. The pen made a nice sound, she found, and paired with the strangely calming scent of his room and the rustling of papers, it made her feel almost like it was rainy day, the kind where you curled up by the fire and read a book or cuddled with someone.

"I doubt staring at my face will help you fall asleep, love," Kaz noted without looking up from his work.

"Your face is the most interesting thing here."

For the barest fraction of a second, Kaz looked like he had short-circuited. The moment was gone as soon as it came, however, and he simply raised an eyebrow at her. "You're very immature sometimes."

"Thanks!" Y/N said cheerfully. "It was the trauma."

"Trauma hardens people, it doesn't make them softer," Kaz dismissed.

"I agree wholeheartedly. However, there's a difference between an excellent mask and incompetence," she replied. "Now come over here and show what's bothering you, I can see it on your face."

Kaz looked up at her, noting the fact that she probably wouldn't shut up unless he did as she asked. He rolled his eyes, hobbling over to the bed. As he sat, she could feel his weight pushing the mattress down.

Before he could say a word, she snatched the paper in his hands and began scanning it. "What's wrong with it?"

"The numbers don't add up."

She stared at the document for another second, then back up at Kaz. "Who are you and what have you done with Kaz Brekker?"

He blinked at her.

"You forgot to carry the one. The numbers don't add up because you... well, added them wrong," she explained softly. She looked up at him, concern crossing her features. "Do you need a nap?"

Kaz huffed out a breath. "I'm fine. You're just distracting me, that's all."

"We're going to ignore the fact that you think I'm distracting and instead focus on the fact that you have not slept in several days."

Kaz's nostrils flared slightly in indignation. Before he could speak, however, Y/N cut him off. "Kaz, I have known you since I was eleven. I'm also not fucking blind. Yes, I know you are essentially running a mafia at age seventeen. Yes, I know you are under pressure. Yes, I know there is at any given moment a bounty on your head. Yes, I know I am sick and it is technically your job to take care of me. But can we please just make a deal or a truce or something in which you get some fucking rest?"

Kaz was quiet for a moment before the corner of his mouth twitched. "Always the mother hen for everyone except yourself."

She was startled into a laugh. "What can I saw, I was a born hypocrite."

Kaz did end up getting a couple hours of sleep, even if it was at Y/N's insistence.

However, he almost regretted it when Jesper barged in and, with a gleeful cackle, found them both sleeping in the same bed with one of his legs pressed up against hers - Kaz's version of flat-out cuddling.

Almost.

[m318x2]

story about my sweaty ass hands and feet and how that led to me finding out something weird under the cut (it's not triggering or anything it's just long)

ok so i have had chronically sweaty hands and feet my entire life (hyperhidrosis) to the point where it is legitimately debilitating, but i finally mustered up enough self preservation to see a dermatologist about it since i'm really tired of not being able to do 90% of the things i want to because it involves not being able to wipe your hands every ten seconds. for the longest time i felt like i was just overblowing how bad it was, but the fact is i very regularly was sad because i wanted to do a very hands-based activity but it was too frustrating to do it when my hands were always wet and slippery. i used to play guitar. i gave up when i was 11. never picked it up again even though i loved it (on the very few occasions i was dry enough to properly play). i always wanted to play video games. never had dry enough hands to do it regularly enough to enjoy it or make it a hobby. i mean i did sometimes but it was rare. i used to put layers of tissues on top of my mouse and keyboard to play minecraft slightly more efficiently. never was able to get good at pvp though because i couldn't use the controls that well with either slick hands or tons of tissues between me and the controls.

anyways i was on a pill that worked pretty well which was great, but the thing is all it does is just dry your entire body out which means i had wicked cotton mouth all the time which is annoying. nowhere near as annoying as the sweat was, but still not great.

so i weened off the meds as i started doing the plan b treatment which is this machine (called an iontophoresis machine, specifically one for hyperhidrosis) that basically is just two trays of water with electricity running through it that you put your hands/feet in for like 10-20ish minutes and somehow the electricity makes your sweat glands behave properly over time. its pretty old technology and apparently nobody's sure exactly how it stops the sweat, but it does. and it's working for me so far, which is great. only thing is it's annoying as hell to use (its mostly just annoying to dry it off after each use so it doesn't get gross and theres sponges involved too which makes that a pain, and annoying to sit there unable to move for that long, i am allergic to sitting still lmfao), but they say once you've been doing it regularly for long enough you can get to a point where you only have to do it every few weeks to every few months. i'm already noticeably drier like 8 days in though and i haven't even done it as much as i'm supposed to, so i'm hoping i'm one of the lucky people that eventually only needs to use it once every few months.

but the main point of this post was i kinda like the feeling of electricity flowing through my body, apparently 💀💀💀 like it makes my skin kinda itchy and irritated temporarily which isnt nice, but the human body is conductive and i feel noticeably excited/buzzy when i feel the current in my chest and head, like brain go brr. especially when i use a stronger current lmfaooo. deadass its like a very mild nicotine buzz what the fuck is wrong with me

[whitelionspirit]

Pale Fire: Strange Habits

Pairng: Ace x Reader

Series: Modern au of the life of Ace and the reader.

Scenario: Over the last several weeks Ace has been huddling up in your room. It doesn’t help that your feelings for him have been solidified for a while now.

wc: 2.6k

warning: non just fluff and unsure feelings

a/n: It is here! The first part of this series I talked about a few weeks ago. Here a little bit about it if you missed x . This is not in order of events the story all comes together in different peeks into their lives

After another exhausting day at work and checking up on some assignments, you were ready for bed. Your usual bed stealer was already tucked into the cozy corner near the wall. His soft snores were your only indications that he was asleep. How you had ended up in this arrangement, you weren't sure anymore. Though it didn't bother you as the man was a walking heater. So in the dead of winter, you could care less as he kept you extremely warm.

Yawning, you close your laptop and move from your desk, and head towards the bed. Running a hand through your hair, you sit down on the edge of the bed. Leaning forward, you click off the desk lamp until the room is dark.

Crawling under the covers, you sighed happily at the warm feeling surrounding you; it was comforting. Shifting onto your side, you faced the wall where Ace was soundly still asleep.

You could easily make out his figure due to the street lights coming in from outside, making the room visible. He was laying on his stomach, hugging the pillow to his chest as his bareback was exposed to you.

You had known for a while that you had feelings for him, but you were too afraid to say anything to him. Perona had been on you lately about it, especially since Ace had been spending more time sleeping in your bed than his own in the last few weeks.

Why exactly, you weren't sure, but it didn't bother you much. He did love to be around you a lot, and you learned early on that he stripped in his sleep. It was a bit embarrassing at first, but you came to expect it throughout your friendship. Tonight was one of those rare times where he had kept his boxers on.

You smiled fondly at the memories as you continue to stare at the rise and fall of his back. Your eyes shifted downwards to the ink that littered his backside. What once was a skull and crossbones was now half a tattoo and a large amount of scarring. While you knew the story behind it as it happened before you even met the man. The sight of it made you emotional for some reason; Ace didn't like talking about it very much. Not that you blamed him, it was a horrific accident that left him very badly hurt with side effects even today.

The loud snore broke through the silence, making you freeze at the noise. You snorted as Ace's breathing went back to normal as he shifted slightly towards you.

Feeling content, you finally snuggled down into the covers and closed your eyes. Sleep finally overtook you as the day's events caught up with you finally.

Hot.

It was overwhelming and itchy, as if your whole body was on fire and unable to get away from it. Your mind raced as the intensity continued until something hard punctured it making it burst open. Your eyes fly open in a rush as you sit up with a start. Heart racing, you placed a hand on your heated skin to only cringe at the slick wetness that came off of you. Looking down, you noticed your body and T-shirt are soaked with your sweat. Still trying to catch your breath, you stare off into the still dark room.

You couldn't have been asleep for long, but what was that strange feeling you had never felt before. Your eyes finally adjusted again as you turn your head towards Ace. Who had somehow rolled over in his sleep and was now wrapped tightly around your body.

Well, that explains that issue. You supposed the man was still sound asleep as his arms tightened on your waist. The heat that radiated off of him was a lot. His leg was hooked over your thigh as he snored softly into your pillow.

"You are such a pain, Portgas, you know that?" You mumbled as you tried your best to settle back into the sheets ignoring the damp clothing you wore with the older man clinging to you like a monkey.

He didn't reply, but you took his snoring as a sign that he could care less. Closing your eyes again, you drift back off, not to be disturbed too.

...

The following morning was a noisy one but having lived in the house for almost over a year now, you grow used to it. Rolling over in your still half-asleep state, your eyes blur, not fully awake as you stare at the wall. The fuck how did you end up on the opposite side of the bed this time. Rolling back over, you noticed that your usual bed companion was nowhere to be seen.

Weird.

He must have gotten up already, which was odd for him. Ace usually slept in late on Sunday, but it seems today was a rare occasion when he didn't. Grabbing for your phone, the screen lights up to show it is a little past noon.

A little later than your own wake-up time but the little extra sleep was nice. Pushing the covers off yourself and getting out of the bed heading to the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you head down the stairs and into the chaos. The excited chatter of Luffy and Perona could be heard as you enter the kitchen. They don't pay you any mind as Luffy excitedly leans over the kitchen island and watches your best friend cook away.

The sight was very comical as Perona tried to push Luffy away, who was happily drooling at the presence of the sizzling meat. Giggling, you open up the fridge and grab for the jug of orange juice; shaking the container, you close the fridge behind you.

"Oh, (name) finally up, I see," Perona said, looking over at you.

Smiling at her, you open up the cabinet next to you and grab for a cup. "Yeah, guess I needed the extra sleep." You replied, turning back to them and pouring your drink.

"Well, I'm glad you came down when you did because I could use your help with cooking. No one else is around yet, so I decided to make a big brunch for everyone." She said as she cracked a few more eggs into another pan.

"You are so awesome, Perona!" Luffy said as he sat on the counter with a smile on his face.

You smiled at the sight even though this situation was a relatively regular one in your home. It always warms your heart because growing up, your luck with long-lasting friendships wasn't the greatest. So living here with some fantastic people made you emotional at times.

"So I see Ace slept in your room again last night." You froze at your friend's words as she peeked over at you from behind Luffy.

A guiltily blush crept its way up to your face. You looked away from her and stared into the living room. "Ugh yeah, he did; it's no big deal, just used to it." You mumbled.

"I see," she said slyly, making your face burn hotter with embarrassment.

"That's pretty normal for Ace. I think he's always clung to people that make him comfortable. He did a lot of that when we were kids and later with Deuce and Marco. Though for a while, he didn't think after his last relationship, which ended pretty badly, especially after the accident." He trailed off for a moment. "With you, for some reason, he started doing it again, but I'm glad we were all worried about him." Luffy grinned at you.

You were stunned. Ace had never mentioned anything before, not that you should be surprised. Despite his easy-going and friendly persona, Ace was relatively private on some matters of his life. Which never bothered you because you knew with time if it was necessary, he would tell you eventually.

"I wasn't aware, but I'm glad he feels so comfortable with me. I feel the same about him. He makes me feel secure, I suppose, is the right word."

Luffy looked at you thoughtfully and looked away, but you caught a hint of a smile anyway.

"Speaking of Ace, where is he? He wasn't in bed when I got up."

"Oh, he went for a morning run with Sabo. Well, I guess more of a late morning run. They should be back soon, though. Better start this before I have to listen to them whine about food again." Perona rolled her eyes, making you laugh at the image.

It was a ubiquitous experience in the shared home of the three brothers with bottomless pits. It was a good thing that Ace and Sabo had such good-paying jobs that they could have tons of extra food. Grabbing an apron from the hanger, you tied it around your waist and held for a mixing bowl, and started cracking eggs.

Both You and Perona moved in sync around the kitchen while dodging Luffy's grabby hands. The time passed quickly as you both finished making the feast just as the front door opened. The loud chatter of both older men caught your attention as you platted another stack of pancakes.

Looking over at your pink-haired friend you both shared the same thought as you both stepped away from the food. Just as both Sabo and Ace came stumbling in at the sight of the food. Just like wild beasts, all three brothers are divided in for their shares. You shook your head at their antics as a tap at your shoulder had you turning around.

Holding up a plate of food, Perona smiled at you as she headed it over. A smile spread across your face at her offering; grabbing it, you happily started to eat it.

"Thank, Rona yove the beth." You yell even though she barely heard you with your face stuffed and all.

She rolled her eyes at your display but smiled anyway. A sudden presence had you looking up at an arm circled your shoulders, pulling you into someone's chest. You gasped at the action but quickly recoiled at the smell and tried to tear away, but the grip was tight.

"(Name)!!" Ace mumbled as he swallowed his food.

"Acccce!" You whined as he held you closer to his sweat-soaked chest.

"(Name)!!!" He responded back teasingly.

You pouted as he snickered and kissed your cheek affectionately, making your cheeks burn in embarrassment.

"Ok, lovebirds, take it somewhere else; we're trying to eat here," Sabo said as he gestured to the other three in the room, a grin playing at his lips.

You groaned and pushed Ace off of you as you grabbed your plate and joined the others at the table. Ace just laughed and followed you as he sat across from you. As you started eating again, Sabo spoke between mouthfuls of food and told a story.

You didn't hear half of it, but it was something about running into Zoro on their run from what you gathered. From the way Luffy was in hysterics, you knew the man had probably gotten lost again. It made you laugh at the image of him getting frustrated as he ran back and forth through the local town. Most people knew who he was as this was a constant habit, so that alone was funny enough.

After you were done eating, you helped to shove the boys out of the kitchen so you could clean.

"Go shower. You all smell!" You finally said, making them groan and protest.

You glared at them all, making the three boys shut up and stare at you before quickly saying sorry and scrambling up the stairs. The sight of them trampling over one another was entertaining and made you smile as you headed back into the kitchen.

…

You heaved a heavy sigh as you flopped down onto your bed; after finishing the kitchen, you had returned to your room. Knowing you would be waiting for the shower for a while, you decided to lay down. Rolling over, the three large windows greet you. They were currently blocking out the light making the room darker than it would usually be.

Lately, you weren't sure of anything between school, your job, and being an adult, in general, was enough to make you restless. Though the constant unsolved resolve in your mind was this deal with Ace. You cared for him so much, but the thought of destroying your close friendship is what stopped you from pushing further.

Turning on your stomach, you hugged the nearest pillow to your chest, which you realized had been the pillow Ace slept on. Closing your eyes, you bury your face into the soft fabric. The smell of smoke and cologne came off of it. It was all Ace, and it was soothing to have the familiar scent lulling you into euphoria. Between the warmth coming from the heater and the pillow you hugged, you dozed off pretty quickly.

The dipping of the bed alerted you from your half-asleep state as someone sat down beside you. You blinked your eye open more, making your whine softly. Rolling over, you are given the sight of Ace sitting hunched over on your bed as he pulled his blue sweatshirt off his head. Leaving him in a yellow shirt. He tossed it onto the floor, which made you roll your eyes at his carelessness.

Ace ran a hand through his still-damp hair and casually scooted himself back on the bed as he laid down next to you. He laid on the opposite side to you, so he was facing you upside down, his back to the wall this time.

"Hi," he said, smiling at you softly.

"Hello, intruder," you mumble, your face still buried in the pillow you were now hugging to your chest.

He laughed. "Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you," he says with not a hint of remorse in his words.

You snorted.

"Right, because you are sorry every other time."

He shrugged his shoulders, continuing to smile at you, but this time his eyes had this gentle look in them you hadn't seen before. The look alone made you avert your gaze as your cheeks heated. You tried to not think of what that could mean exactly. The last few weeks had really been weird with him in general. The clinging, bed-sharing, soft looks, and just no boundaries at all at this point, which you were used to anyway, especially with Luffy, but this was different.

"Hey…..Ace, can I ask you something?"

You looked at him again; his brown eyes bore into yours.

"Sure, what is it?"

Closing your eyes, your grip on the pillow tightened, taking a deep breath, and you looked at him again. His lips pulled into a frown.

"It's nothing. Just wanted to know if you would take a nap with me?"

A huge grin split across his face at the gesture, and he happily sat up and grabbed you around the waist.

"Always (Name)!" He wrapped the blankets around you both and swaddled you into his chest. A giggle left you as you situated yourself in his grasp until you were comfortable. A sweet silence befalls you both as you settle into each other's warmth. After a while, you knew he was asleep from his soft snores near your ear.

You weren't sure when you would finally confine him about your feelings. For now, you were content with this strange arrangement you both had and were happy to continue it for a little while longer.

[raeloganthesonic06fangirl]

So this mama cat showed up the other night with what appeared to be three kittens. Actually, four kittens, as we would find out the following morning.

These were VERY hungry babies, and since we have a whole stock of cat food that we buy for feeding the rural feral cat population, we had plenty to spare for this little family of five (rural communities have natural occurring cat colonies that are crucial in keeping the pest population in check and reducing vermin in the feed for livestock. We don't have livestock at my house, but we're flanked by neighbors that do)

The babies all seemed to be scraggly, with grungy fur, and a little lethargic, quite possibly from a combination of the heat wave, the fact that they were hungry, and probably because of all the fleas all over them.

Yes. Fleas. The reddish color in the fur in those pictures? Moistened "flea dirt", which is flea poop, which is little gritty poop made of thier own extracted blood. Very gross, yes, and yes, when it gets wet, it dissolves into red, runny, liquid.

Bloody poop water, in crass terms. Gross, but a common thing pet owners may come across in small quantities.

Not these kitties, tho. Nope. The poor dears were so infested with cockleburs and fleas, that thier entire coats were grit and they clearly were lethargic from the constant drain of thier blood.

They didn't really fight back much when my Mom and I scooped them up yesterday to bring them in with a little bit of TLC. Just a simple bath with lukewarm water, some Dawn Dish Soap (aka: the soap gentle enough to safely clean a duckling saturated in an oil spill), a good flea picking, and some caring contact.

I should note that it's unusual for a feral cat to not be initially wary when you approach them. It generally takes a while to gain trust, so this is usual. Heck, these little kitties didn't even yowl, bite or scratch. They were so saturated in fleas, they were probably out of thier minds in itchiness and all that.

So we washed them up, and I noticed that the little runt (the tiny one in the picture of her actually in the sink) has VERY pale paw pads, and her little tounge is about as white as a raw ham hock at the meat market. Not good, not a good sign at all, it's a clear sign of anemia from the fleas, and her gums and inner ears are noticeably paler than the norm. Her siblings (2 confirmed brothers, but I haven't had a good look at the other calico to confirm that's a girl, or if we may have a rare calico boy) are much larger than her, so it's likely the fleas have been there for ages.

These are feral kittens, so they could very well have been traveling through the rural fields. Fleas are common, but easily manageable under most circumstances.

So this little runty baby is just so quiet and lethargic, and I'm obviously concerned for her as much as the others, so we take the time to pick off as many fleas as possible. These babies are still nursing as well as starting to eat solid food, so under no circumstances can we even consider flea drops, it's far too dangerous for such small kittens.

Anyway, about two hours into the baby spa treatment, the tiny one final opens her eyes much wider than she had thus far, and finally squeaks and pushes her paws around in the towel, with a slightly pinker shade to her previously pale extremities. She's far more alert at that time, and she tries to bury her little face in the towel as I'm trying to get the fleas off her. Her little paw is smaller than my finger, so I had to be very careful doing that (we also found a tick between her toes and plucked that carefully as well)

After everyone was bathed, groomed and fluffed up, we put them back outside with thier patiently waiting mother and she tended to them to the best of her ability.

Come nighttime, and the little ones are showing signs of being far more rambunctious than they had been hours ago. Must have felt great to get some of those pesky bugs of them, and thier hair softened and cleansed, and the burrs out of thier fur on thier tummies.

Proud to report as of now, the littlest one who was so pale and lethargic is now bouncing around outside with her siblings, and her paws are just a little bit closer to being as pink as they should be. I mean, it takes a little while to fully recover from anemia, but a kitten who isn't playing and tumbling around with the rest is always a cause for alarm.

Thank goodness for averting a crisis. We got plenty of food for them, they're going to be just fine, our yard is a wonderful place for cats to take refuge.

((We'd consider taking them to the vet, but last month, our vet unexpectedly passed away and the clinic has been abandoned since, so no one has been able to take over yet.))

[askanonbinary]

Hi! I don't kno if this relates to this blog but I'm very curious about this subject. I'm agender, & my friend is trans. We've struggled a lot becuz of this. My family pretends I don't exist. Recently we were talking w another friend about identities. & he told me that while he was a teenager, he was cisgender. He experienced something bad decided to not be a girl. What do people think about this? Using that method as a coping system. Can people choose to not be cis? My trans friend says no.

Anon, I’m going to answer you by telling you my story. I’m not comfortable sharing some details, so it’ll be pretty general, but there is a trigger warning here for an abusive relationship and dealing with the trauma afterwards, plus a mention of menstruation. With that being said, I’m going to go ahead and put this under a read more.

Since I am putting this under a read more, I’d like to share a quote from a list of links I provide at the bottom of this post, to leave you something to think about without wading through my personal story: http://ossarix.tumblr.com/post/120869364577/re-choosing-transness

When I say that i want people to realize they can choose transness, I’m saying that i want people to ruminate on what being trans means to them on an individual level. I’m saying that they should think seriously and critically about gender and decide for themselves what it is to them and in what ways if any it is meaningful. Then, I want them to act on that information.

Onto my story: When I was halfway through high school, I discovered the term asexual and promptly came out as panro asexual. I had known since middle school that I felt differently from my friends. So, for years, I pushed any (rare) but potential romantic feelings down and denied I had them. When I discovered asexual, I clicked with it immediately and also decided that I was panro, which I connected with more than biro. At that point, my gender identity was really no where on my mind, as I never had a reason to not identify with the gender I was assigned at birth. Now, almost immediately after coming out, I (coming fresh out of HS) fell into a relationship with a man two years older than me. 

I was in an abusive relationship for a matter of years with this man. When I finally escaped the relationship, what I’d actually been through started to hit me really, really hard. I struggled (and still do to some extent) with coming to grips with what I’d been through and how to classify my experiences and reactions. It was a very scary time for me afterwards when I began to realize that not only did I have any urge to be in another romantic/intimate relationship again… I didn’t feel the same. It’s been about four years, and I haven’t had a single crush since. This was an acceptable change for me as I have always been asocial and being as committed to another person as I had been in my relationship made me realize how much space I really do need and how uncomfortable I am in deeply committed relationships like that. And, as said, I really have no personal interest in being romantic with anyone else. so it’s a relief not to have to deal with those feelings, tbh.

What I never expected was how lost and disconnected I began to feel from my gender - and it came on so seemingly sudden. It was very confusing for me. I’ve never particularly liked having breasts and I never looked forward to having my period, but I’d never felt dysphoric before. I’d never really wished for no genitalia. I wished I didn’t have to wear a bra and didn’t have to have a period, but it was more about the symptoms than the anatomy, for me. But suddenly I was feeling disconnected from the term “woman”. At times, I was feeling disconnected from my own body, sort of like an out-of-body experience; at other times, I was feeling itchy and wanted to jump out of my skin. 

This is when I dove into very seriously learning more about specific trans and nonbinary identities and experiences (in fact, it’s how I ended up stumbling across this blog). For me, coming across the choice narrative was extremely helpful for me. I struggled to accept what I was feeling. I didn’t feel like I could really be Trans Enough™ or that I deserved to use the label. But nor did I feel that I was cis anymore. When I heard that I could choose to nonbinary, that’s when things began to turn around for me. As scared as I was, as much self-doubt as I had, I began to choose to identify as nonbinary (although I struggled with different specific labels first).

The longer I wore the term, the more I looked into different identities, the more I heard about other people’s experiences, it slowly became easier to accept myself and my own journey. Anon, it’s amazing to me how differently I feel about how I identify then and now. I felt like a faker back then. I feel so much better now, anon. I’ve accepted how I feel and embraced the nonbinary label. I feel like myself again. I’ve finally gotten over much of that internalized exorsexism I struggled with when denying my identity.

It’s a question I had then and one I’m still not sure about now (though now longer spend time pondering). Anon, I have no idea how much, if any, my gender was influenced by the trauma I experience. Did my trauma change the way I felt about my gender? Was it simply a coincidence? Was it perhaps that I’d been researching more trans/nonbinary stuff in college and became more aware of it? Was it wrapped up in the fact that I stopped crushing on others? Was it affected by my change in perception of who I was while coming to grips with what I’d gone through? I honestly don’t know, and I’ve stopped worrying about it. That part isn’t as important to me anymore, now that I’ve dealt more with coming to terms how I felt and feel.

Anyway, that was a bit longer than I meant it to be (sorry)! But why did I tell you all that? Because I wanted to help show that 1) there isn’t one True Trans Experience™, and 2) the choice narrative is a helpful and important one for some people. I want to be clear that I am not saying everybody will find the choice narrative helpful or relatable. There are many people who do not feel as though they had a choice at all - and that is also completely valid. I believe that both these narrative/facts are valid and can coexist, as they are each useful for other people.

As to your friend who went through something and decided not to identify as a girl anymore, I cannot speak to them or how they feel. I can only say that I don’t think either path - choosing or feeling as if you have no choice - is particularly easy or something picked or realized on a whim. Perhaps how he told you is simply the easiest way for him to explain without having to relive his past. I would say that, unless he is somehow being harmful by expressing his gender the way he does, it’s also not particularly anybody else’s business, unless he so chooses to share. And if he chose to share with you, I think you should be respectful of that. Trauma is a very complex beast that we still do not completely understand how deeply it can impact people.

Finally, here’s some posts relating to choice politics, although some of these are more slanted towards orientation than gender, that you may be interested in reading:http://ossarix.tumblr.com/post/120869364577/re-choosing-transnesshttp://actingnt.tumblr.com/post/135077660215/the-born-this-way-narrative-falls-apart-due-tohttp://cishits.tumblr.com/post/109413068403/insectaffection-cishits (transphobic/gatekeeping comic - scroll down to the good comments, which are a few people in)http://askanonbinary.tumblr.com/post/85477860135/but-i-thought-being-trans-was-all-about-how-youhttp://askanonbinary.tumblr.com/post/85650317690/saying-that-being-trans-is-a-choice-is-reallyhttp://askanonbinary.tumblr.com/post/114375017805/its-not-okay-for-you-to-claim-that-being-trans-is

The best bit from the first link:

When I say that i want people to realize they can choose transness, I’m saying that i want people to ruminate on what being trans means to them on an individual level. I’m saying that they should think seriously and critically about gender and decide for themselves what it is to them and in what ways if any it is meaningful. Then, I want them to act on that information.

~ Mod Sock

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

Y'all in the village that have seen me recently

I apologize, y'all will just have to bless this sweet darling heart

My eyes have become super sensitive to the sun and I have to wear sunglasses (i got $250 worth of contacts with my stimulus check -- 12 boxes including one free sample due to the brand i purchased being discontinued suddenly and my prescription being out of stock - contact lens.com, i highly recommend. I did send inal a photo of my valid prescription) Usually I'm extremely picky and don't buy the lightly tinted lenses. But Wal-Mart had them on sale and usually that's all they sell. Usually i get mine from eBay and spend hours if not days searching for them cute and dark, zooming in the photos to see how the tint is reflected, refracted and if i can see through it. Usually sunglasses are very honestly shown for some reason.

Anyway so these are so thin I forget I am wearing them!

So, I'm all parading in Wal-Mart in purple sunglasses and all in the drive thru like an I don't care diva!

I don't know the origin, yet. Or where it came from... If it was just an agreed upon practice by international law or if it's just me. Idk.

But i think its rude to hide your eyes when speaking to someone. Like its not something conscious. I didn't sit around deciding it was a pet peeve or some law, but when i was a waitress tossing pizzas out the drive through pick up line or just a casual shopper -- people in sunglasses and not lifting them or removing them always bugged at me and irked me suspicious.

So I've been all parading around completely unaware because I've had to wear regular prescription clear lenses for so long that I'm used to the weight of glasses, especially in public because that's the only time I wore them. They just became part of me

And the tint is just see through light -- like the same color of my regular daytime light in my bedroom that every one says is dark. And a light bulb does illuminate. I'm very vampire dungeon darkness.

So I just wanted to apologize that i been all looking like Miss Princess don't care.

I always refused to buy light lenses because i thought they didn't work or weren't worth it. The sun here is so strong. But they do definitely help and are so comfortable i don't know they're in place.

So I care but my eyes hurt a lot. And the contacts kind of made it worse. Like when I take my non insulin diabetic shot, after 10 to 20 minutes I can feel it go into the back of my eyeballs and it feels so good!!

Its not a super pain or uncomfortable and its more when I don't sleep or am upset. I guess my pupils dilate weird

Which my eye doctor before the last, I was on Percocet and well the same 13 prescriptions as well as a few more for pain and so on. And he told me to be cautious as my pupils don't dilate proper due to "being so heavily drugged"

So who knows. I just try to avoid light.

And these sunglasses help and I don't know I'm wearing them. So I'm not hiding behind a mask and cute tinted sun glasses. I'm just protecting my eyes and preventing pain.

Like i say. The pain is from the brain to indicate a problem. So there's a problem Idk how to diagnose and verify or solve. So.

Its not intense just pressure and an auto response to avoid light. Like my kid turns on the lightbulb and I'm all its so fucking bright!!!! Although now the florescent burnt out thank God because that gave me migraines. And I got an LED. But the choices ar the dollar tree were limited to be 60 watt equivalent when I prefer a 40 watt or 30 even.

So I notice the intensity in my eyeballs changing in response to the light

When we lived in Alabama and we were about to move to NYC and my parents had always said Florida would be our next stop.

And i developed an allergy to the sun. A real allergy to the sun. It's a rare condition. My skin would marblize a red color and I would begin to feel faint and/or throw up if I was in direct sun.

It was right after Denise had become Zulululu.

And so I still have remenents of the non contagious disease. Although I was kept from school for 6 weeks... Like my legs if get hot then they get itchy and the sun irritates my eyeballs.

So I always buy sunglasses but I don't always wear them but have them available.

My daughter has the blue light blocker AND the progressive lens so that in the sun they turn to a light see through sun glasses. Zinnie.com I think I spelled it wrong m allong with a basic pair of clear glasses with a anti reflective coat for like $5 I paid about $70 for both. Never had any problems with Zinnie and even leaving them in a hot car was no problems. But a pair from firmoo I paid extra for the anti reflective coat and the lens coating melted in the car. So I'll never ever buy from them unless its a keep in the house pair. Wearing contacts and losing one on the beginning of a road trip where i was expected to drive -- it fell out my eye and ripped - it was old. And I didn't know or think about it and i had no back ups!! So i had to suffer the whole week. Migraines and all.

So in my luggage I keep a pair of contacts or glasses even when it's in storage. I keep a pair of glasses in my car in case of emergency. And firmoo completely failed me.

I've bought half a dozen or so from Zinnie. I call it Zin-knee-uh although it's probably just Zin-knee.

And noooo problems. Even with the advanced lenses which do work and are great.

Because I wear contacts, I don't want to invest in a good pair of glasses but my daughter solely wears glasses so I find it important to protect her eyes.

I get the anti-reflective coating -- the mid level due to at night lights. Without corrective lenses, lights look like Ferris wheels.

I literally can't see shit but 6 feet in front of me. I guess other people are not much different so. Like can y'all see a person 100 yards away? Like no? Right? I can see shadows and shit but I can't recognize people with my eyeballs until they're all up on me.

My uncle always says I'm gonna need a scope to shoot at night. -.-

I'm not quite Mr Magoo but I'm lucky as he is. Thankfully. (He's a cartoon, check him out. He's in YouTube)

And so my drastic apology for blatantly running around in sunglasses all rude and shit. Is done.

Also, while I'm talking about companies -- avoid PANTENE FOR COLOR TREATED HAIR. It strips rhe color out and is complete crap and the worst ever.

Herbal Essence and Loreal Elive are both fantastic to keep color treatments in.

I thought it was just our hair but ive been using PANTENE and my kid Herbal Essence and I see the difference.

Also I like my hair curly. And lantern curly didn't do shit. But Herbal Essence Twisted always has worked great. Not my personal favorite scent but tolerable.

Y'all what i need is a curly and color treated hair shampoo and conditioner at an affordable price. I've searched African American products and haven't found any with those labels. So Idk.

My scalp and hair is ultra dry due to scalp psoriasis and i can go a total 3 months of no washing without looking oily.

So i love African American products and buy them proudly in secret for myself! But i notice their bottles are smaller and more costly.

Except i found a leave in oil for only $3 which i use when i don't dye.

Foreign oils can strip hair color quite well as well as dandruff shampoo.

So I'm always cautious about leave in oils and lotions.

But PANTENE is a FAILURE.

Its my main switch. I use herbal essence and PANTENE and Loreal. Its a fact using the same conditioner and shampoo leaves a certain coating on the hair to cause it to be limp and flat and dull.

So it's always been recommended to use a clarifying shampoo and conditioner for a week then go back to the reg.

The same effect or nearly the same effecf is done by switching brands. So that's what I do.

PANTENE is now out of the equation.

Tio Nacho is a fantastic shampoo and conditioner. My daughter's hair was always unruly. Curly and just wild no matter what. And tio nacho is the only brand,to tame her to look like a human and not a wild lion. But I haven't found color protecting and it's $8 for only 12 ounces and so I find that expensive.

I buy the huge 27 ounces for $7. So.

But I would buy it for her. It helped calm the oily and wild mane.

My friend brushed her hair once and she was so surprised m she said that was like warm butter, lol. Because she always had wild corkscrew curls and some random straight ones she looked a wreck 24/7.

Truly I didn't mind I knew the truth. But tio Nacho has some miracle up in it. Swear.

PANTENE doesn't even have ordinary skills it claims to have m

So we may put Aussie in our loopm we use Tressemme when the cash flow is low.

I used to do live advertising and did the 3 minute Aussie miracle conditioner and that was always nice. The formula changed and it's not as wonderful as it used to be but its average. So i haven't had them in our loop.

Dove we don't like. Hers gets oily and crazy and i don't like the oil stimulation it causes. Idk maybe it's good but ... It makes me feel ick. Which is sad because I really wanted Dove to work.

PANTENE was my first "luxury" shampoo and conditioner i bought myself because i was raised on V05 and if I was lucky and Denise was nice, Suave. She literally bought the cheapest. And never bought extra conditioner and So i had to ration it. So my first self purchase on my own was PANTENE. But it is now a failure. -.- and lives are ruined and especially hair dos.

So now i used to buy my ex V05 ha!

And i have an emergency bottle of Tressemme 32 ounce under my bed for color treated. Conditioner.

We buy conditioner 4x more than shampoo. Because we coat it all --scalp to ends -- brush it. Then i rinse the heavy coat i soaked in while watching tv and smoking then I give it a light coat on the ends again and rinse.

Shampoo we just use one handful and not two or three and it foams up and so we don't need as much.

Like i use 2 - 3 pumps on my scalp of shampoo then one maybe two on the ends. The scalp i scrub the ends I rub.

Like now i have to dye again so I'll use a dandruff shampoo and I'll end up scrubbing all of my hair and use like 1/4 a 12 oz bottle. To get any deposits and leftover film and so on off all the hairs so they absorb the dye better. Then no conditioner. Or a light coat to detanglr and comb and rinse quickly without a deep soak. Then sometimes i gently apply shampoo again without a good scrub. Just run it through to remove the conditioner. But not to allow tangles.

Im not an expert or anything but hair care is serious around here and Idk why PANTENE is trying to destroy mine and succeeding.

I spend $50 every 2 months on just hair. For two.

One girl with a Mohawk and my long to the waist hair.

Two sides of her head are shaved every 6 weeks and she gets the same bottles as i do and then she's all "i need more" 0.o. Honestly she washes hers more often than i do.

We have our own buckets of shampoo and conditioner. Nathaniel either uses it or poisones it so we have our own large Easter buckets. And we store our towels in my room too. Then we have a 3rd bucket in case i buy in advance or like now give up on a bottle we were trying out. Save it. For days of emergency. Running out or so on

But we do borrow from each other if one or the other is low we take from each other to use.

We have different body soaps and different hair needs sometimes. Like i want curly and she's all nah. Or she has Tio Nacho.

We come from a 3 bathroom house so we're used to having our own product. Let me say it that way. But we always are good about sharing if necessary.

But she actually has more demands for bath stuff than I. So like her loofah and her body wash and all that isn't used by me and she knows its only all her Because I have my own bucket.

I cater to my kid. I Like it seperate too because her stuff is more expensive. $7 body wash and mine is $3 if i buy it. Otherwise i use shampoo. I do have hair in my armpits after all. And so i see hers and im all hmmm let me try this and yeah... "Idk how i used half a bottle in one bath" so it is more expensive!! So

While I'm buying 2x the shampoo and conditioner to supply 2 buckets -- in fact i am not spending more. If we shared the bottles as a person would expect, then we would go through them faster.

2 people in one bottle

Vs 2 people in 2 bottles.

So I have to purchase less often than if we shared but I have to purchase more bottles.

So in reality i pay the same price but the schedule and cost load is different.

Like if im out of conditioner, i know she will be at some point so i buy two bottles. And it waits until she needs it. Unless i need shampoo, too.

Then if she if she needs the shampoos then we buy all over again.

The cycle of life told in shampoo and conditioner.