#it's not just the october craziness i'm burned out from living with my parents
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hugely sick and tired of my family assuming that i'm always miserable and treating me as such. like maybe if you didn't constantly ask me what was wrong with me i wouldn't be so fucking annoyed all the time
#like they start FIRST THING in the morning#i mean am i going through it? yeah kind of#there are things i should probably deal with re: several people that i'm avoiding because i simply do not want to deal#whats the line from buffy. happily vacationing in the land of not coping#but it's not like i'm moping around all the time i'm literally just existing and my mom Takes Offense#this is the second saturday in a row i've just been sitting there eating breakfast and my mom is like WELL DO YOU NOT WANT THIS JOB#?????????????? am i supposed to do a jig before going to the most boring job on earth? i sit in an empty room for six hours#it's not like i said a word about work or anything else for that matter. i was doing a crossword puzzle and minding my business#i am burned the fuck out. i really am#it's not just the october craziness i'm burned out from living with my parents#i was going to go out with someone again and i finally just pulled the plug because i do not have the mental energy at all#anyway whatever the reason i'm tired of being yelled at about it
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AAAA I’M SO EXCITED FOR THE NEXT PART I LOVE YOUR WRITING SMM ❤️❤️
Thank you!!!! 🥺🥺 I'm excited to see y'all's reactions to the newest chapterrrrr Also, I lied about the smut it's in the next chapter, but there is some suggestive type stuff unfortunately it's from Todd
Pink Pastels Pt 9
Description: It's Saturday, and you're at a sports bar with Todd, until you find yourself on the roof with Spiderman.
Pt 10
It’s Saturday. One of your two days off, and all you want to do is relax, but here you are at a shitty sports bar, beer already spilled on your shorts by some drunk idiot, your boyfriend completely ignoring you as he pounds his fist against the bar, screaming at the TV. His team is losing, you assume, as you push away from the bar, drink in hand, and wonder back to your table.
You pull out your phone and scroll through your email, responding to a few, ignoring others, until finally you see a response from a kid in your class’s mother.
Jessica Tompson: Ms. Y/N, I will be available at six PM on Monday to meet with you regarding Tommy’s behavior. I look forward to getting to the bottom of this issue.
You smile and send her a quick response back; you’ve been trying to get Tommy’s mother in for a meeting since October. Tommy wasn’t a bad kid, he just needed extra support and attention, and potentially some ADHD testing. But you knew people were hesitant to test their kids, afraid to “label” them, even though those “labels” could really help their kids in school.
You couldn’t count how many times you’ve explained that identifying where kids are struggling can get them access to accommodations that they need to thrive. Such as extra time on assignments or a quieter, smaller room to take tests in, so they weren’t as distracted. Sure, they wouldn’t get these things forever, but if they got them now, it would help them learn how to self-regulate for the future.
You tap your fingers on the tabletop happily and bound over to Todd. “Hey, guess what, I’m finally getting that mom to come in and talk to me.”
“Who?” He asks, beer in hand, his eyes glued to the screen.
“Tommy Tompson’s mom.”
“Oh, the hot one with the nice rack?”
One of his friends high-fives him, and you put on a tight smile. “I don’t really look at my students’ parents like that, but maybe?”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’ve got eyes, sue me.” Then he slammed his beer down on the bar. “Are you fucki—that’s bullshit, Ref!”
Miguel wouldn’t say things like that, he wouldn’t ignore you for football. He’d congratulate you, slip between your legs, his full lips parted, his pink tongue finding a hom— You shake yourself out of your thoughts.
This was crazy, you shouldn’t have done that… Should have stuck to fantasizing about a celebrity, or well, you should’ve been thinking about Todd, he is your boyfriend.
“What a shitty call, Ref!” You echo him, and that earns you a smile thrown your way, and an arm around your shoulders.
You just want things to go back to how they used to be, but honestly, you’re not even sure it used to be good. Maybe you just didn’t really know any different, but now after, all those little chats at pickup, during parent teacher meetings, and then the day at the zoo? How is it that a man, who barely knows you, treats you better than your boyfriend of years?
You walk home with Todd leaning heavily on you, his lips are on your neck, sloppy and clumsy, missing that certain spot on your neck in favor of slobbering all over your skin.
“Todd, maybe we need to slow down a bit.” You say carefully, trying to pry him off you.
“Again?” He sighs heavily, annoyance clear in his tone.
Your face flushes, shame burning through you, and you bite your lip to keep the tears at bay.
When you first started dating you were so new to everything, you’d had a few boyfriends before, but they were short-lived, almost chaste. Todd on the other hand was a complete and utter manwhore.
“I thought you were over all that.” He grumbles, trudging along the sidewalk, refusing to look at you.
He wanted everything fast, fast, fast, and you were dragged along for the ride, anxious and unprepared.
“I am, I am, it’s just you’re drunk, and your head is going to hurt in the morning…” You tell him, helping him up the stairs and through your apartment door.
He makes a beeline for your living room and flops down on your couch. “So, what, I want you, and you’re my girlfriend, so.”
You try to hide your grimace, but he sees it and groans.
“You’re always like this, I swear, such a prude.” He throws an arm over his eyes and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out.
You blanch, there’s no way he’s just going to jerk off, drunk, in the middle of your living room, right?
“Todd, seriously?” You snap, grabbing a decorative pillow and hurling it at him.
He ignores you, pumping himself, grunts and groans spilling from his lips. You used to find him attractive, you’ve always liked when he was vocal but now? Now it feels traitorous to hear him instead of Miguel.
But you’ve never heard Miguel, your mind was just making things up, that’s what dreams and fantasies are.
“You’re such a dick.”
He sat up, still gripping his erect cock. Was it smaller than you remembered? “Maybe I wouldn’t be if you’d do your job.”
"My job?” You ask, thoroughly confused.
He points at his cock, and you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing, there’s no way he means what you think he means.
“Good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.” He says it with such certainty, that it sounds ridiculous.
You bust out laughing, doubling over, gasping for breath. “You’re so full of it.”
“I’m not, you’re just a—” then he goes quiet, and you look up to see him passed out cold, cock still in hand.
You stand there for a moment, flabbergasted. There’s no fucking way that just happened.
Throwing a blanket over Todd, you head for the fire escape a different blanket in hand, climbing up to the roof, and sitting on the edge of the roof, feet dangling, your hands behind you supporting you as you lean back.
You let out a sigh, tilting your head up towards the night sky. It feels good out here, cool breeze, the sounds of the city at night, the gentle coo of the pigeons the apartment manager cares for.
A soft thump draws your attention, and you jump scrambling away from the edge, and turning on your heel. Only to come face to chest with Spiderman.
“I wish it was that easy to get everyone off the ledge.” He says, a hint of humor in his voice.
You remember what he looks like, and his face, mask? is everywhere, but it’s different when you’re not terrified or watching some grainy news footage.
“And he’s funny too.” You joke, giving him a small smile.
He tilts his head, scanning you, then reaches out and his gloved thumb brushes across your cheek. “You were crying?”
Were you crying? You touch your face, your fingertips coming away damp. “Oh, I didn’t even notice, it’s just been a long day.”
You spread out your blanket and sit, your back against the wall, and you pat the space before you.
“Won’t your boyfriend be upset if he found out, you’re sharing a blanket with a masked hero?” He teases, sitting in the space you made for him.
“My boyfriend is currently passed out drunk with his dick in his hand.” You tell him, the low light making you braver than you’d normally be.
He goes silent, the eye parts of his mask widening, and you think that’s his version of raised eyebrows.
“He was drunk and pissed at me because I didn’t want him to slobber up my neck, so then he whips it out, and when I tell him to stop, he calls me a prude and says I should do my job , which is such an asshole thing to say.” It feels good to ramble, to just vent all your feelings onto this masked semi-stranger.
“Do your job?” Spiderman asks, his eyes narrowed.
“He said, and I quote, good girls suck their boyfriend’s dick.’ Literally so ridiculous…” You trail off as Spiderman rolls his shoulders back.
For a moment you’re hypnotized by the movement, the sheer mass of muscle.
“…shoes?”
You snap out of it. “I’m sorry?”
“Did you like your new shoes?” He asks, and you hear a smile in his voice.
Wow, y/n, rude much? You didn’t even think to thank the man who not only saved your life, but also replaced your shoes.
“Yes, thank you so much, how much do I owe you?” You go to pull out your wallet but realize you left it in your bedroom.
“No, it’s alright, consider it an apology for not getting there fast enough.” He holds his hands up in a pacifying manner.
You purse your lips but nod. “Alright, well, again, thank you.”
You’re fiddling with the necklace Gabi and Miguel got you, and it seems to catch his eye. “That’s pretty, your boyfriend get you that?”
You shake your head, dropping the pendant. “No, it was a gift from one of my kids, I’m a teacher.”
“That’s cute, do you mind if I?” He motions towards it slightly, and you lean forward, letting him catch it between two long fingers. “Very nice.”
“Yeah, I think it’s really sweet.” You smile up at him, breath catching in your throat when he releases the pendant close to your skin, his fingertip brushing the tops of your breasts.
“I’m sorry, didn’t mean to touch...” He says quickly, retracting his hand.
You give him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay, it was an accident.”
“What’d your boyfriend say?”
“About the gift? I don’t think he even noticed.” You scoff, brushing your hair back from your shoulders.
“No, what did he say after you turned him down?” His voice is lower, warmer, spreading across your skin and seeping into your bones.
“Oh well, he tried to argue then passed out.” You giggle, Spiderman’s masked form still inches from your own.
Spiderman lets out a low hum and tucks a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “He phrased it all wrong, good girls don’t suck dick, they take cock.”
Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @miggyoharaswife, @badbishsblog, @imisshim2much, @wanderlustingcastaway, @lynn-9703, @sleepyamaya, @erensbbg, @sweetea85, @ilovemiguelohara, @natthernandez, @stxrrielle, @ihateuguys, @jenniferdixon05207, @blep-23, @luvisaaxoxo, @minimari415, @emerald-09, @violet-19999, @kenchosaikuo, @groovycass, @youcantseem3, @lovefks, @nightshxdex, @dusstory, @aesniri, @munsonssecretblog, @kirke-is-my-name, @starbearieee, @chatoicboy, @act1839, @needsleep3000, @totally-not-georgia, @witchy-lizard, @cxmeiloorun7
#miguel o'hara imagine#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel o'hara#miguel ohara#meg's writing#miguel's pastels#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara x y/n#miguel ohara x reader#miguel ohara x you#miguel ohara x y/n#spiderman 2099 x reader#miguel atsv#Todd sucks as always
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The Crazy Part
Date: October 12th, 2131
Okay so wasn't able to finish telling what happened yesterday before I had to go to bed, but I barely got into what made yesterday so intense.
Usually when its time for CK and I to leave Castle Town and head home, we say goodbye to Spamton and Jevil and leave with Kris, while I assumed those two also went home (apparently not, unless you can call a garbage bin a house...). Today however, Spamton asked to come with us. Kris questioned him, mentioning that he'd turn into an item in the Light World. After that Spamton started begging, saying it was terrible whenever we left (at the time I thought like "oh, terrible like how you don't want to stop hanging out at your cousin's house" now I know that's not the case. Even if I didn't know Spamton was homeless and living on the street, can you tell how guilty I feel?) Kris mentioned something about if it was so bad, Spamton should've stayed in the inventory, to which it reacted even worse to. At this point Kris brought up the whole Darkners-becoming-items-in-the-Light-World thing before eventually deciding to show Spamton what would happen "the hard way". Yeeeeeeah, Kris isn't... the nicest? To these two specifically? Particularly Spamton but Kris doesn't like Jevil either. With Jevil though, he doesn't seem to mind, instead joking and ribbing Kris back.
Anyways, with both Spamton and Jevil in Kris's pockets (don't ask me how that works I don't know) we headed back home. Upon exiting the closet though, something... unexpected happened. Like I mentioned, Darkners are supposed to become items when entering the Light World. Spamton is actually a spam-email while Jevil is a joker card. The thing is, when we tumbled out of the closet and into the Light World. Spamton and Jevil... didn't. They didn't become items and remained Darkners. Kris is still confused and frustrated by this.
And that's when Papa and Auntie Toriel caught us.
After that there was... a lot. Papa said one of the words I'm not allowed to repeat and Auntie Tori fainted at least 3 times. Plus seemed like she was gonna faint the whole time we were all talking in the classroom. So um, yeah. Now our parents know about the Dark World. (Apparently Aunt Tori's been to a Dark World before because Kris opened one in their house sometime during their adventure, but she thought it was all a dream.)
Also after learning the state Spamton and Jevil are in (ie living on the streets, plus not mentally stable) Papa declared it was our duty to help them. He explained it to Dadaton as "rehabilitating them until they can get back on their feet". Aunt Toriel was initially hesitant and apprehensive, but eventually reluctantly agreed (mostly since Kris said they could watch and help out with Jevil as long as it was just him, to which Toriel said they weren't getting out of this doing any less.)
So long story short, Spamton's staying with us now! Which at first was exciting but then we quickly realized was gonna be... chaotic... He might've sorta, kinda,, accidentally blown up the living room with one of those blue eggs (which are apparently called "Pipis"), its okay though! We sorted it out and cleaned it up. I even helped Spamton write an apology letter to my dad! Er, well, made it write one because it was also a little inappropriate towards Dadaton and we were trying to convince him to not just throw Spamton out of the streets again. (Jeez Louise, this man's social skills are even worse than mine..)
Even if I've only known Spamton for a bit, he's already definitely proved to be... interesting to say the least. And raised a lot of concerning flags. If he wasn't always a puppet, what happened to him? Whats with the abrupt screaming of burning and Spamton's strange fascination with the sun? To the point of staring directly at it and the sky as soon as we were outside? Who exactly is this "strange someone" and why are they driving Darkners to madness? Do they relate to the strange man from my dreams? What's up with the Dark Worlds? Why do they exist and will CK and I encounter anymore apart from Castle Town? Who are the other "secret bosses"? Can we really help any of them?
There's so many questions, and the more answers I get, the more questions seem to pop up. Its both exciting and a little scary but in like the fun thrill seeking way. I feel regardless of what happens, this is gonna be the start of an exciting new chapter and I think it'd be a crime for me not to record what happens. Even if its mostly just for me to sort out my thoughts.
Call it... a sort or expirament, if you will? In darkness and seeing how much any of us can help these guys.
... On second thought, expirament's a bad word. Call it an adventure instead.
#chicago#deltarune au#deltarune: fool's fate#fool's fate#undertale au#undertale ish#writing#spamton#ck#comic kings#kris#jevil#toriel#papyrus
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I am mohammed ayyad of Gazans, living in very difficult conditions because of the war that the Gaza Strip is under. Since the outbreak of the war on the seventh of October we have been evacuating .
Then the journey of suffering and separation began,because my children were separated and evacuated from our home without covering or clothes., From here they became infected with diseases, and what increased our fatigue was the constant upbringing due to the different areas in which we were displaced, as we were displaced 9 times, and this was very expensive, the last of which was the 9th of this August from Hamad Town. In addition to that, we have lived in the summer season in a tent that did not exceed three meters, closed with nylon, so it is like an agricultural greenhouse atmosphere. It is very hot. All in all, we live difficult days that no human beings can afford
We have no work because of the war, and we do not have any kind of money and this is accompanied by a crazy and horrible rise in prices.
Although water is not suitable for drinking, this is the cause of many diseases
The last suffering is that we are out of Hamad without taking our purposes or our tents and now we are searching the earth in the roads and our children and our elderly parents are suffering..So we use direct donation including what they can or share links fully so people can know our tragedy and pain. Remember a small contribution can make a difference in the lives of many children who are dealing with their health condition all. Leave their details and make them happy with your generous contribution.
Mohammed Ahmad, dearest gentleman, i am thoroudgly sorry if it is a misunderstandment but your wall of text is either writtend by a poor uneducated man or by a cheap uneducated company. i ask for forgisvenness if it isnt so as i think.
my name is Von Ashley, of myself, i was born in saint petersburd and since then something taken caredd of. my father is working in the military service and i never seen him much because he is busy working in the military service, and my mother was working in a school as a cleaning service lady and i dont have a fucking clue about where can she possibly be right now as when ibwas teb they got divorced and idk honestly why sidm i got ti be with my father and my mother idk whree she went adftreer that. after that there was this lady who was acting like misrtress important bitch n got me in absolutely unnecessary beating covering by the name of the parenting process but shes absolutely fucjing nobody to me just like that bloody bondy fat duck armyman who tried to disprove me by breaking me fucking ribcage it still hurts as shit i cant bear it even can't pretend to feel like i'm feeling okay is hard sometimes and you know what its fine i think as long as nobody knows about it i'm gonna fix it when i get better but since i was beaten up in kids school and in middle scool and in high school and after that a little bit i didn't make much to earn myself a living and living with grandma right now going every day into middle of nowhere to work for one dollar an olhour it doesnt counts but i think its gonna be alright some time soon or not or i'm gonna get hit by a truck
i tried committing suicide when i was 16 but it didnt go well and honestly i wish it did because at that time and even after all this time right now it feels like i am burning flames vivid every single second around me entire life that much bad it is and i honestly don't know what am i gonna do about that thing but it hurts so much that i wish i were dead right now and niw i am a coward in that thing but if i could retunr to that moment i'd jump all 13 floors without hesitation and i regret that i didnct do it back then
but now that i am a cowardly nitwit hobo who can't do nothing i think i can do something and i will try some things to get out of this hellpitand maybe find a human whom i'd be able to love to and i know this is hard consiredring just how pathetic egoistic and cruel are humans but i will try wit my whole self put into it so i'll finally make dreams come true cuz i wanna learn how a proper hug feels with a person who doesn't disgusts by the sight of me and how you can talk freely without fear that later youll get a punch in the gut for it or how to touch a hand of another human and not convulse because it is scary sa shit because you know i always seen this love kind of thing going around in books and cartoons and one dear friend said that it really exists somewhere but unfortunately we are not there and now that theyre dead i just want to see if they were really right and it does exist because personally from what do i see for now it absolutely doesn't. it is a dream for kids to reach and they promise it everywhere but then turn those same kids into 9to5vers and suck their lives out like lemon juicelike it is the most obvious thing to do and they talk about it everywhere and so there are many who believe it and talk about its importance but what is really important is not getting hurt because miss mistress bitch also said "i love you, you're like my son and shit" and then shit no bitch then she throws me on the floor and kicks the hell out of me until i cant cry and until i cant breathe and it was making me so sad that i cant express with words just how much do i hate that perosn andshe was like no father told that shes gonna be instead of mom but if it really is right then i don't wanna live in this cruel world where everyone is cruel and everyone is violent ans everyone is fighting and they hurt each other and treat it like it is normal if it turns out to be fucking true i want to just kill myself and jump off a plane and then throw the parashute away and be dead for the fucking while because this is fucking painful
anyways if you are really a poor man i can't really help and if you are a robot then go to hell and burn there for long cuz in some time im coming here as well and you better see it
@ayaalanqar30
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One and Only || Spencer Reid
Chapter 6: Falling for you
[Series Masterlist] : [Previous Chapter] :
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Description of story: Juliette Luciano was fifteen when her parents were arrested by the behavioral analysis unit after being double crossed by someone in the Mafia they were apart of. When Julie, her twin brother Matteo, and best friend/sister-in-law Valeria turn twenty they decide to run, leave the life of crime and change their way of life. After seven years of running they realize they were officially in more danger than anticipated when they received surveillance pictures of themselves. But they weren't the only ones who got some. After the BAU decided it would be safe for them to go into witness protection they decide to send in none other than Doctor Spencer Reid in with Julie for extra protection. These two form a bond that will quickly lead them to get into a relationship. Will the relationship be all love and happiness all will it all go dark like everything else in their lives.
Pairing: Spencer Reid X Fem! OC (Julie)
CW: none I think
WC: 1.8
♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎
"I'm over here," I said.
He looked over to the corner where the full body mirror was and smiled, "You're awake early," he said the back of his hand rubbing his eyes.
"I couldn't sleep,"
I let the last curl fall and disconnected the curling iron letting it rest on away from me so I wouldn't burn myself. I ran my fingers through the curls before I stood up to go sit next to Spencer. I let my hand move on his back looking at the scratch marks I left on his skin.
"It looks like you were attacked by a cat,"
He chuckled, "Does it actually?"
"Mhm, sorry."
"No it's okay. I don't mind,"
I kissed his shoulder, "I have a question for you,"
He turned over onto his back and looked at me, "What might your question be?"
"Well I don't know much about you so I was wondering if I could get to know you better by playing twenty questions,"
"Sure,"
"Okay, when's your birthday?"
"October 28th. Also I know I'm supposed to ask you the question too but I already know the answer."
I had forgotten that they go through your entitle life when they're trying to locate you, "I'm going to tell you anyways, August 16th, what's your favorite color?"
"Purple, what's your favorite color?"
"Light pink so light that it almost looks white. Where were you born?"
"Las Vegas, Nevada. Where were you born?"
I knew that he knew the answer but I still answered, "Brooklyn, New York. Um....I don't know what else to ask. I mean I know the basic things about you like you're a genius and work for the FBI,"
"And I know a lot about you just from your file. How about you tell me why you were in and out of juvie?"
"I was a troubled kid okay. If you really want to know I'll tell you a funny story of how I ended up in juvie for a week," I laid down and snuggled up next to him.
His hands gently wrapped around me, "I doubt it'll be funny but go ahead Angel tell me,"
"Well a little backstory there was this girl who had been mean to Matteo since the seventh grade and Matteo wasn't one hit people especially if they were girls or get into arguments but I was. So when we were in sophomore year I had enough especially since now she was calling Val a whore so me being the amazing sister and best friend I am threw my laptop at her head in the middle of English class,"
I looked up at Spencer who was looking down at me like I was crazy. I kissed the corner of his lips before I continued.
"She knew it was me so she grabbed me by my hair and thought she'd win the fight but little did she know I have a black belt in Taekwondo. I broke her nose and her mom pressed charges so I got arrested for assault but she got expelled for bullying Matteo and Val,"
"You know you could've spent more than a week in juvie for that right?"
"I was actually supposed to spend a month in there but my uncle did something so they'd let me out. I'm not sure what he did because he wouldn't tell me,"
"Angel, what part of that was supposed to be funny?"
"Oh my mugshot. I look funny," I said as I reached over for my phone.
I went to my camera and clicked on my mugshot to show him. He grabbed my phone and looked at it a smile tugging his lips. My hair was messy and there was a couple scratch marks on my face.
"I forget that you had purple hair as a teenager,"
"Mhm, I dyed it a pastel rainbow color when I was eighteen and haven't changed it since,"
He looked at me and kissed my forehead, "I like the colorful hair but what's your natural hair color?"
"It's a caramel color. You can kind of see it in my roots because the dye is very faded and I don't want to dye it anymore,"
He tucked my hair behind my ear, "I'm gonna go get ready,"
He pressed his lips against mine, "Okay,"
He got out of bed and went back to his room. I had already gotten dressed in a light pink dress with a light pink cardigan so I got out of bed and went downstairs to the kitchen. I started the coffee for Spencer while I grabbed a bowl along with the Fruit Loops. I poured some into the bowl followed by the milk before grabbing a spoon and sitting down.
"You know for being twenty seven you eat like a toddler," Said Spencer as I was now sitting with a pack of saltine crackers.
"I do not,"
He poured his coffee and sat down across from me, "You only eat Mac and Cheese, Dino Nuggets, Mashed Potatoes, Cereal and Crackers,"
I took another bite of my cracker, "Not my fault I'm a picky eater but you have no room to judge because you only ate Chinese takeout for the first week we lived here,"
He smiled, "Fine, do you have any plans for us today or no?"
"That depends, can I cut your hair? I love it but it's so long and I want to cut it,"
He sipped his coffee while he thought, "Under one condition,"
"Mhm,"
"You won't make it too short, I've made many bad decisions when it comes to my hair,"
"I promise I won't make it short."
"Okay then, when I finish my coffee we can do it,"
I leaned over the table and kissed him quickly before heading upstairs to set my things up to cut his hair. I was waiting for him when my phone went off, I grabbed it off the bed answered the call.
"Hello,"
"Ciao Principessa," his thick Italian accent said through the other line.
Hello Princess
"Leonardo,"
"I'm your father you shouldn't be calling me by my first name,"
"I'm sorry last time I checked I don't have a father or mother. They died when I was fifteen."
"Do not act stupid Juliette,"
"What do you want?"
"Just wanted to check up. How are you doing?"
"You never cared about us so this isn't just you wanting to check up,"
"You do realize you and your brother are idiots you know that right?"
"What can I say it runs in the family since ours is filled with those."
"Juli-"
I ended the call when I heard Spencer open the door to my room.
"You okay?" He questioned.
"Y-yeah, yes, of course why wouldn't I be?"
"You're leg is bouncing like crazy and you look scared or worried maybe both,"
"I'm fine. Come on let's cut your hair,"
I let him sit down on the chair in the room and parted his hair off into sections before spraying water on it. I brushed through the couple of knots before I grabbed my scissors and cut a little bit off watching him bounce his leg nervously.
"What would you do if I shaved your head?"
"I'd shave yours then your eyebrows."
"Note to self don't shave Spencer Reid's head,"
I kept cutting when I started to feel uncomfortable with the silence in the room, "I have a question,"
"You always do,"
"Sorry," I decided on not asking my question and dealt with the silence.
I finished cutting his hair and ruffled it, "There,"
He looked in the mirror and smiled, "It looks nice, thank you, also you never asked me your question,"
"It doesn't matter I'll figure out the answer on my own,"
"Angel, I didn't mean to sound like I was annoyed with all the questions you have. You know I'm happy to answer them,"
"I know, it was a stupid question anyways. You should go take a shower, you're covered in hair,"
He looked at me for a second before he left my room. I knew he didn't mean to sound rude but the way his voice changed when I asked just made me not want to ask anything. I cleaned up the floor before picking up the clothes that were scattered on the floor from last night.
I went to toss my laundry in the washer and take out the ones I had put in the dryer this morning. I brought my basket with warm clothes back to my room and sat down on my bed started to fold it while I played music to fill the silence in the room.
I was staring at Spencer's socks when he walked back into my room, "So I know you wear mismatched socks but how do you fold them? Do you put them with their designated pair or with the one you wear them with?"
He sat down next to me, "I'll do it,"
I nodded and let him fix his socks while I started to put my clothes away, "Angel are you taking my shirts?" He motioned to the pile on my hand that had three of his shirts in it.
"What!? I would never,"
"Mhm,"
I finished putting my clothes away and went over to Spencer. He grabbed my hips pulling me towards him, "I'm sorry," he his thumbs drawing circles on my hips.
"For what?"
"You looked upset after I said you always have questions. I didn't mean to sound mean or anything, I just wanted to make sure you're not upset or mad at me,"
I ran my hands through his curls, "I'm not mad or upset and I also wasn't lying when I said my question was stupid I was gonna ask how many chickens do you think it would take to be able to kill a lion,"
He smiled, "How do you come up with those types of questions?"
I shrugged, "They just come to me, I don't know how to explain it. My brain is weird."
"That it is. So you remember when you asked why I was on my phone for three hours two days ago after I told you I hate technology?"
I nodded, "Well...I found this carnival an hour away and wanted to know if you want to go,"
"Yeah!"
He stood up his hands moving to rest on my waist, "Great, it's still early so we'll leave at around six alright."
"Alright,"
He cupped my face and gently captured my lips in his for a soft kiss. When he pulls away he smiled warmly at me before leaving my room. I stood there confused, I had clammy palms and felt like when I was a teenager and had my first kiss. Like when my girlfriend asked me to homecoming and told me she loved me. I realized what was happening and my heartbeat grew faster. It felt like my heart was about to burst out of my chest.
I was falling for Spencer.
Correction I was falling in love with Spencer.
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hi Bianca, I read your 'about' page and wanted to reach out to you since it really spoke to me. in 2014 I had a traumatic event and got professionally diagnosed with the same disorders you mentioned, as well as insomnia. I feel like I should be over my trauma by now and I'm just so frustrated at how I feel stuck in place. I always regret not being a stronger person at the time. I think if I'd had a different mindset or a better support system (c.)
Anon, I can relate to you. I can relate so much.
Long letter to you under the “Keep Reading.”
First off, thank you for messaging me about all this. Doing so must have taken so much courage. I know how hard it is talking about these things. It’s scary and sometimes I don’t know how people are going to react when I tell them I have GAD/Depression, even when I’m speaking to another person with a similar diagnosis. Just being able to put words on paper, or in a message, takes every ounce of brainpower we’ve got. I’m going to try to use as much brainpower as I can to convey as best a response I can.
I was also kind of a nervous child as well. Extremely shy, kind of cowardly, helicopter-parented. But never to the extreme, just enough that I can safely say I’m not an extrovert. I wasn’t diagnosed or referred for anything psychological. By all accounts, I was considered “normal” (I hate that word in psychological connotations). But as I got older, I started having a lot of problems with stress. I started having migraines in high school. I started getting severe stomach pains before every exam. The stress got even worse at university when I went from being a straight-A student all my life to an A/B/C one and my self-esteem collapsed. I developed insomnia. I was homesick. I had a roommate dealing with alcoholism my sophomore year, and I was constantly worried for her health. That near-collision I had in 2014 (the one I mentioned in my About Me) was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was driving back from an internship interview (from which I was rejected anyway) when I took a protected left turn on a yellow arrow, and the light turned green and a car coming from the opposite direction at 50 MPH nearly hit me head on. If I hadn’t pressed the brakes at the right moment, I would have gone straight into the front of his blue Honda. I wasn’t the same after that. I don’t even remember driving home, the next thing I remember is sobbing hysterically as I open my front door. My mom was comforting, my dad thought I would just move on, my sister thought I was exaggerating. I didn’t sleep that night. The next few weeks, I almost felt like a zombie. Like I shouldn’t be alive. Like I should have died on that road. Several nights I woke up sweating, and I had this recurring dream of walking up to that same intersection, the site of a crash site, and staring at my dead body. These feelings were real, but I didn’t know that. I just kept getting worse and worse. I was diagnosed with GAD/Depression in August, after a week of panic attacks, hallucinations, and an ER visit in which I had to be sedated with a high Xanax dose. But I don’t think, until I got those first Lexapro and Clonazepam doses, that it really hit me I had GAD/Depression. And then I really ruminated on that, and the first thing was…
Guilt. I FELT IT, ANON. I felt it bad.
You’re not alone in feeling guilty about your diagnosis, anon. I think it’s almost a given to most of us with depression and anxiety. Our society dictates that people should be able to function a specific way, and when we can’t do it we feel excluded, shunned. Not to mention, a feeling of failure to our own families and friends. I had that and more, I felt I let everyone down. My family who I spent my entire life trying to make proud. My friends, my teachers, professors, everyone who ever believed in me. When I was young I felt like a bird, that I could fly anywhere. As if I was Icarus, ready to fly towards freedom and beyond. But that first bottle of Lexapro in my hands felt like a weight that brought me down to Earth. And I burned. And everything I loved, burned.
My love for all my favorite series literally became NUMB. I kept up with them, but I literally felt nothing for them. My archive for this blog for the Fall months of 2014 shows lots of cute Hetalia fanart, OFF fanart, maybe the occasional cute thing. I was a regular (still occasionally am) GIF editor for the Hetalia fandom, and still churned out the occasional one during this time. But it wasn’t me posting. It was my shell. I was afraid to let my personal struggles bleed into my healthy tumblr blog and ruin it, so I kept posting as if nothing was wrong. But it wasn’t the real me. The real me was waking up shaking, in sweat, on nights that weren’t filled with insomnia. The real me was learning how to eat solid food again (which I didn’t do until October, I believe). The real me was crying every day. If my blog was honest that year, every post would have been replaced with ramblings on fear and sadness. But I couldn’t do it, because I was afraid to scare my tumblr friends, and scared that they’d all shun me and call me crazy. And by perpetuating a lie that all was “fine,” I felt guilty. I always prided myself in being honest, and I felt like I was betraying myself as well as them, and the guilt hurt even more.
And when I was in those moments of guilt, I’d always ask to myself, “What did I do wrong?” “Did I do something to deserve this?” “Was there something I could have done?” I used to think that maybe if I’d been a bit more independent as a kid, I’d have thicker skin, and I wouldn’t be going through this. Or maybe if I’d been a better student, I would have had better grades, and my anxiety concerning my future would be lessened. Or, maybe, if I had been a better driver and avoided that near-collision. Or maybe, I could have made myself prettier, or made more friends, or lost a few pounds, or not accidentally hurt the feelings of that one girl on the playground in 6th grade that one time. None of this would have ever happened, and I’d be okay. And my family would be okay. Everything would be okay.
It’s almost like I was digging into myself, trying to justify in my mind why all this was happening to me. Trying to figure out what I had done wrong. Until one day, I heard some words said to me.
“Bianca, it’s not your fault.”
It was my mom who told me this, the first time. I had been crying and apologizing profusely over and over for what I was going through, a few days after my diagnosis. Telling her that I was sorry that she had to put up with an “insane” daughter like me, and wishing she had been blessed with a better daughter with no ailments, because she deserved better. But, my smart mom, instead of agreeing with what my fractured psyche had come up with, told me those words. And I cried. I didn’t fully believe her at the time, but the sentiment did stick in my brain like a seed, and I felt comfort. Of course, the guilt would come back a few days later, still strong, but I’d hear those words again and that seed would grow a little bit. The next time, a little bit more. More when I would hear those words in her arms. More when I’d hear those words from my dad. More when I’d hear those words from my therapist. More when I’d hear those words from my doctor. Until one day, something interesting happened. I realized the value of those words.
It’s not our fault. It’s not something we did wrong. It’s not something we should feel ashamed of. There’s nothing we did in our past that made us “deserve” depression and anxiety. One of the most important things I learned as a Psychology Major in university was that our brains, just like the rest of our bodies, don’t always work or look the way they’re supposed to. All of our brains are unique, and a combination of our own personal experience along with family genetics and the environment in which we live in make all of us different. It’s now commonly believed that some people are more prone to mental illness than others, just as how some people are more prone to heart conditions or diabetes. Nobody really knows why this is the case. It’s not really a science you can quantify or boil down to an equation. Sometimes, mental illness just…happens. There’s really no concrete explanation. You can dig and dig into your heart and mind and soul forever but you’ll never find one. It took a long time for me to realize this. That I wasn’t at blame for my depression/anxiety. That I didn’t do anything wrong. That just because my brain needed some extra help from medicine and doctors, didn’t mean I couldn’t be strong again.
Anon, sometimes our illness makes us feel like less of a person. But that’s just the depression talking. I always tell people, when you have GAD/Depression, there are two sides of you. One side is the real us, the one who loves and laughs and enjoys life as it is. The other side is the anxiety/depression itself. Sometimes, the second side “covers up” the first side and “pretends” to be us. That doesn’t mean the real side is lost forever, it’s just hiding. We just have to, pardon the language, call that GAD/Depression side out on its bullshit. Because the real us is the best us. The ones who fangirl over our favorite series and ships and stories. The ones who care for all of their friends and loved ones. The ones who aren’t afraid to try something new and be creative. Anon, I believe its still in you. You can still do it. You can still do all the things you love.
Your GAD/Depression may be an element in your life you weren’t expecting, but nobody can really predict such a thing happening anyway. Not even the most brilliant minds in the world can predict the future to a T. It was never your fault, Anon. Never. I want you to trust me on this. And I want you to love everything you love even stronger than you did before. Write those stories you want to write. Watch those series you’ve been meaning to catch up on. Draw to your heart’s content. Read some new books. Start a new craft. That love won’t come overnight, it might take months or even years (even now, I’m still learning to re-love all my favorite things again), but it will start to come. Take every day at a time, and don’t worry about the pace. Recovery varies from person to person. I myself am recovering very slowly, on the exact same dose of Lexapro I was on back in 2014, and I’ll probably be on the same dose for an indefinite amount of time. But the more and more I’ve accepted my diagnosis, the easier it gets.
I’ll leave you with some final tips which have helped me immensely:
1. Eat well! Lots of water, and healthy meals! Especially fruits and vegetables.2. Have certain activities to do during your “down” moods or anxiety attacks. I usually crochet while watching a relaxing tv show or movie.3. Exercise, even if it’s simple walks or stretches.4. Find somebody to talk to when you’re feeling sad, or write your feelings down in a journal. I find that expressing inner feelings can be very relaxing.5. Pet therapy! Go and pet a dog or cat. Some studies have found that spending time with cute animals can increase “happy” hormones in the brain, like dopamine and endorphins.
I hope I answered your message! If you have more questions, always feel free to ask. I wish you all the best, and all my blessings.
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The Quarter Life Crisis
Well I don't really know what I'm doing so bare with me.
24 has been a HARD year. If you know me, you know that this year was by far the toughest year of my life. In fact, I actually think I cried more this year than I have all of the other years combined (go ahead and laugh).
MARCH
CORONA VIRRRRRRUSSS...
I should actually start with the dreaded break up.. or let go, I should say. We had been broken up but had been on and off in private. I had been hanging on to something I knew was not only bad for me but was never going to work. I had poured my heart into someone who was never going to pour back into me. My heart had never experience so much pain. No matter what I did or where I went, there was a piece of us there. It was a passing pick up, a song on the radio or just the smell in the air. I was frozen in time and I wasn’t getting over it.. I couldn’t eat, I couldn't sleep, I had no interest in any of the things that used to bring me happiness. Most every night for close to 3 months I cried myself to sleep. I didn’t feel like Taylor anymore, I was a stranger living in my own body.
We’ll call this part of 24, “sad girl hours”.
Fast forward to summer...
JULY
In July, my dad was consistently having chest pain. We found out he had severe blockage and would need to have surgery. After hours at the doctor’s they sent him home with nitro incase he had a heart-attack before scheduled surgery. I had been out with my friends that night but I was in bed early and I just remember hearing my moms footsteps running down the hallway, I already knew.
I remember frantically asking what I needed to do and just feeling my whole head rush, like everything around me was spinning and I was helpless. We got dad to the car and mom rushed him to the ER. I called two of my closest friends and they met me at the ER. When I pulled up they were already sitting there waiting. I got into the pick up and I lost all composure I was balling like a baby. It didn't take them long to wrap me up and tell me that they were here for me and that things were going to be okay.
Due to COVID, we were not allowed to enter the hospital so we went home. (the story might be altered a little here... if you know the whole night’s story please keep it to yourself).
I think it was around 4:30 when I finally made it back to my parents house and I was so exhausted but I couldn’t sleep. I sat in the living room wide awake, absolutely terrified for what tomorrow was going to bring.
Dad entered into surgery and had some complications and had to be in ICU for close to a month. I remember getting a call from mom and I was in sheer panic. I just kept thinking “HOW CAN THIS BE HAPPENING TO ME? Why did it have to be MY dad?” I was so angry and hurt inside. I drove to the First Baptist parking lot and I sat there and I prayed and I told God that if he could heal my dad I wouldn’t ever ask for anything again. I remember just feeling so lost and helpless.
I was trying to do the best I could to stay strong for mom. I did what I could at the house and tried to convince myself it was enough.
In all of the chaos my mom stood strong and never waivered, just like an oak tree. They don’t tell you that seeing your parents hurt, hurts you more than physically being hurt. I wouldn’t wish this kind of hurt on my worst enemy.
After a LONG road and what has felt like a million days.. dad is doing so much better. PRAISE THE LORD!!
I realized in all of this that I was never alone. I didn't make it through this by myself. I had my friends surrounding me and supporting me in the ways they knew how. For some it was a text, a phone call, or showing up just to drive around so that I wasn’t alone.
If you were one of these people, you know who you are...
From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU.
AUGUST
My grandpa had a heart attack.
SEPTEMBER
I started a new job teaching kindergarten at a new school with a new team.
Kinder is CRaZY!!
God sure knew what he was doing when he placed me at HP. I needed the spark for teaching to be re-lit within me. My team is wonderful and I feel like I finally found “my place”.
OCTOBER
One of my friends took his own life.
In October, I had a conversation with my old ag teacher who had called to let me know he had cancer. He told me he was so proud of me and we laughed about the things some of my friends and I did in class. I sat there and talked on the phone with him and couldn't help but drown in the thoughts that this man who had made HUGE impacts in not only my life but THOUSANDS of others, was sick.
I just kept asking myself “Why is everyone I love hurting? Why is God doing this to me?”
THE BIG “D” and the semi colon...
I got a tattoo on my wrist (sorry mom) as a daily reminder.
The tattoo reads “ ; hold on”
I would have never wanted something so “socially embarrassing” on my body a year ago.
It’s not embarrassing anymore... depression is a REAL thing and suicide is REAL.
I laid in the floor several nights during the summer and wondered if things were ever going to feel “normal” again.
Don’t worry... nothing last forever. Not even your sadness!
But I needed a visable reminder, on my body, where I could remind myself every. single. day.
The semi colon symbolizes the place where the author had the chance to stop, but merely paused. This is used as the symbol for suicide and depression awareness. The words hold on have many meanings for me.
Hold onto faith
Hold onto love
Hold onto the people who get you through
Hold onto self worth
Hold on... because better days are coming!
NOVEMBER
In November, my ag teacher passed away. I took off work to make the funeral but I got sick and I had to stay in Amarillo. I had taken two days off, but decided to go back since I was feeling better. I was on lunch break when I got on my phone to look at Facebook when I saw that one of my friends had been in a car accident and had passed away.
WHY WERE BAD THINGS HAPPENING TO GOOD PEOPLE?
I couldn’t make rash of anything in my life and I was, without a doubt angry at God.
I hit a LOW point in my life.
No amount of “I’m fine” was going to cover this up.
I really was lost as to how to get back to myself...
I went home for Thanksgiving break and well that was a disaster, I’ll leave it at that.
DECEMBER
I returned to work for the final weeks before Christmas break. I spent most of the days corralling Kindergarteners and wishing the days would pass faster.
Finally... CHRISTMAS BREAK.
I went home and found something I had been needing.
I got to hug my parents for the first time since JULY! ( yeah yeah, I’m still a little kid at heart)
I was able to rekindle a friendship with someone who I had gone separate ways from. Little did I know this was going to be the BEST thing to happen to me. We spent several days hanging out, singing at the tops of our lungs, laughing and making up for lost time. It was like we never missed a beat, we picked right back up where we had left off.
I am not certain of a lot, but I do know that God doesn’t make mistakes.
I needed this friendship and she did too.
I also needed my “Picture to Burn” singing partner back in my life and that's just what I got!
PS, you know who you are. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!
JANUARY
Still CORONA VIRUS...
January I saw the neurologist. The doctors thought I had narcolepsy and that it was what was causing my excessive sleepiness and seizures.
I had to go to the hospital and have an MRI and an EEG to see if they could figure out what was going on.
LET ME TELL YOU I AM TERRIFIED OF SMALL SPACES... that brain MRI was enough trauma for me for a lifetime!
NOT MY CUP OF TEA, LOL.
FEBRUARY
I got my results back from the MRI and the EEG, everything was CLEAR. PRAISE JESUS!
I will still have to have a sleep study done but hey... a sleep disorder is way better than what we originally thought!
THE END OF 24
I turn 25 in 12 days... not quite sure I’m ready to accept that my twenties are halfway over.
24 WAS A LEARNING YEAR, the good and the bad.
I have learned a lot about myself. I am strong. I am independent. I am capable. I am loved. I am important. I make a difference. EVEN on the days I don’t feel that way.
I have friends and family who would move mountains for me.
I have a GOD who is unstoppable and faithful to his promises.
I have weathered the storms I thought I couldn’t and came out stronger.
I have doubted God in many moments of my life but I am certain that his plan is FAR greater than I could ever imagine.
So while 24 may have bruised and battered me, it did not break me.
CHEERS TO 25 YEARS, my friends.
Isaiah 43:2
When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you.
Psalm 34:17-20
When the righteous cry for help, the Lord hears and delivers them out of all their troubles. The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit. Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers him out of them all. He keeps all his bones; not one of them is broken.
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I'm pleased to hear that. And I have some asks: Hephaestus, Demeter, Apollo, Artemis, Hades, Ares, Hestia, Nymph, Satyr, Heracles, Achilles, Atlanta, Hippolytus, Trident, Sun Chariot, Lyre, Bident, Cornucopia, Winged Sandals, Golden Fleece (it was birds, I believe? Just want ro clarify), Tartarus, Underworld, Styx, Sparta, Ogygia, Troja, The Labyrinth. -🖖
Greek Myth Asks
Hephaestus: When is your birthday?
October 28th 1998!
Artemis: What do you first notice about new people?
Depends. Usually their hair or eyes. Or shoes.
Hades: What’s a big fear of yours?
Death. Being stuck/unfulfilled.
Ares: What’s a big pet peeve of yours?
People who used the word “irregardless” and societal inequity.
Hestia: Where do you consider home?
Nowhere. Not to be dramatic or whatever I just move around a lot.
Nymph: Last dream you remember?
I actually had a mirrorverse dream where AOS Khan and TOS Khan were talking with Mirror!Spock about me while I was in a cryopod… they thought I was unconscious but apparently the pod malfunctioned and I was awake.
Satyr: Last time you couldn’t stop laughing?
Last night at this family party my aunt (that I actually like) was there making jokes and I was wheezing with laughter.
Heracles: Have you ever had a dream come true?
In a prophetic sense kinda? I get deja vu a lot regarding my dreams but my brain could be filling in blanks. As for like, concrete dreams/life goals, yeah. I’m transitioning and going to college. :)
Achilles: Have you ever had to be hospitalized?
Yup. I had a kidney infection and my parents were out of town and my grandma came to get me/look after me and I almost had a 105 fever so she took me to the ER.
Atlanta: Have you ever stood up for someone else?
All the time.
Hippolytus: Tell an experience you will never forget.
Getting lost in Paris at 11 pm at night.
Trident: Who are your favorite people?
IRL? Uhm. Either my friends or Alan Cumming. In fiction? Lots of people *coughcoughspockcough*
Lyre: What are your top three favorite songs?
Right now: Dig Down by Muse, Fool by Phemiec, and Blame by Bastille
Bident: What is your favorite way to spend free time?
Creating something.
Cornucopia: What is your favorite place to eat?
Uhm… I don’t have one. My relationship with food is tenuous at best.
Winged Sandals: What is your favorite thing to do when you hangout with your friends?
Watch movies and yell at the screen or do each other’s makeup or both.
Golden Fleece: What is your favorite animal?
Cockatoos! Cats! Seals! Big doggos! All of them!!!
Tartarus: What’s a short term goal you hope to achieve?
Moving into my dorm without exploding from parental stress.
Underworld: Describe your dream vacation.
Some ridiculously old but aesthetically comfortable flat in Paris where me and my SO spend our time painting, writing, eating, or seeing the sights. Or seeing Carnival. Or New Orleans during Mardi Gras. Or Burning Man. Or Germany.
Styx: How would you like your life to look like in 10 years?
I am graduated with no student debt. Having cut all ties with my family, I have gotten top surgery and now live part time in NY, part time in CA, working as an actor in between writing my next best selling novel or screenplay.
Sparta: Do you have a bucket list? If so, what’s on it?
I have things I want to do in life? But the term “bucket list” isn’t one I like using. I’d love to meet Alan Cumming, though. And publish a novel.
Ogygia: Describe your dream husband/wife/life partner?
I’ll preface this with the fact that I’m polyamorous so these traits might be spread out over two (or more) people. :PSomeone who’s calmer to balance out my crazy. Someone who actually likes to listen to my rants rather than tolerating them. Someone who’s ok with me needing space or attention in turn. Someone who has their own thoughts and ideas but doesn’t force them on me. Someone who agrees with me on the big things (like human rights) and is ok with playful quibbling over the little ones (like ketchup vs mustard). Most of all I want someone who loves me deeply.
Troja: What is the craziest thing you wanna do before you die?
Overthrow the government.
The Labyrinth: Have you ever died and came back to life as a vampire?
😏👀😉
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