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♡ Cursing The Daylight - LN 4 ♡
Summary: Lando hates knowing you never sleep well so when he believes he's figured out why, he makes it his mission to save his sleepy girlfriend from sleep deprivation.
Author's note: A little blurb thing I wrote at 2 am. I tried my best 😭
WC: 1045
CW: Lando being a bit dumb and the sweetest person ever, fluff
You were currently cursing the daylight, watching as a blue bird flew past your window.
Fucker
It was yet another sleepless night in your apartment. You continued to stare at your alarm clock, waiting for it to go off, a little reminder that if you were capable of sleeping properly, you’d still have 5 more minutes of sleep.
For most of your life, especially in recent years, you’ve never been able to get a full night's rest. You’d always end up tossing and turning for hours, as well as waking up about 7 times a night. Every day you would feel irritated and restless due to your lack of sleep.
However, whenever you slept over at your boyfriend's house, you always managed to get a good night's sleep. You and your boyfriend, Lando, have been together for about 5 months. The first night you two had spent together, was the first time you’d been able to sleep well. You woke up bright and early and you felt amazing, like nothing could stop you.
Over the course of your relationship, Lando came to be aware of your inability to sleep well most nights. Whenever you would sleep in your own apartment, Lando would receive mass amounts of texts from you, all about how you slept terribly and that you either needed a nap or many coffees.
Lando, being the ever so lovely person he is, picked up on something. The only times you would get a good night's sleep, waking up and not needing to complain about anything and everything, was when you slept at his place.
The mattress! The boy thought, she sleeps better at mine cause my mattress is fucking mint.
Upon realizing this, Lando goes and orders the same exact mattress he has, and has it sent to yours. He thought it’d be a nice surprise for you so that you can get a goodnight sleep every night. Another plus would be that you guys are coming up on your 6 month anniversary, this counts as a gift right?, thinks Lando.
The day Lando gets an email stating that the mattress was out for delivery, he books it to your place, wanting to be there to see your reaction to his gift and so that he could help you bring it in and set it up.
Lando arrives at your apartment, greeted by you with a massive smile and sparkling eyes. He wastes no time in pulling you to him by your hips and wrapping his arms around your torso. As you wrap your arms around his neck you say, “As much as I love seeing you, what are you doing here? I thought we were going to meet up later tonight for movie night.”
As Lando pulls away to look at you, the postman has just arrived. “That’s why.” he says, smiling cheekily and pointing to the truck behind him.
The both of you watch as the postman begins to unload the mattress from the vehicle, before Lando jumps in and helps the man drag the mattress to the door of your apartment.
Whilst Lando and the man bring the mattress into your apartment, you stand there dumbfounded.
What the actual fuck is going on? The only thing I’ve ordered to my apartment is a new book and I don’t think the book is that big? Wait, did I order the right thing?!
As soon as the box is in your living area, you confront Lando, “Lan, my love, my gorgeous boy… what the fuck?” you ask, pointing at the big ass box in your living area.
Your Lan stands there next to the box, all but swaying as he stands and gives you the biggest smile he could plaster on his face.
The cheeky fuck.
“It’s a mattress!” he says as he poses next to it, adding a pose for effect.
“A mattress?” you ask.
“A mattress.”
After a moment of silence, where you contemplated whether to strangle him or take his credit card away from him, you ask “Why?”
“Cause, you’re always tired and you never sleep well unless you’re at my place. So I figured out why! It’s because you find my mattress to feel so much better and comfier. I even ordered the same bed sheets I have, but I got yours in green since it’s your favorite color. They should be here tomorrow though so for tonight you can spend the night with me or we can use your old sheets.” he proposes, smiling so wide it makes your heart melt from the sweetness that you don’t deserve.
He gets you the same mattress he has in his home, for your home.
“I sleep better at yours because you’re there. Not because of the mattress, you muppet!” you exclaim.
You watch as Lando’s face immediately drops, “what?” he asks. He’s truly been stunned with this information, “What’d you mean it’s not because of the mattress? You mean to tell me I haven’t helped solve your sleeping issues?! I thought I was smarter than all the doctors you’ve seen for this issue!”
You can’t help but laugh at your boyfriend's statement.
“Gorgeous, you thought that of all the doctors I’ve seen… that none of them have thought that I was sleeping on an uncomfortable mattress?”
Lando just stood there silent, blankly staring at a wall, likely contemplating all his life choices.
“Fuck. So, do you not want the mattress? Seems like a hassle to return.” he states as he scratches the back of his neck, wondering how he’s going to return the heavy ass box. “Wait, you sleep better when you’re around me?” he looks at you, somewhat shocked.
You walk up to him, taking his hands in yours and making him look you in the eyes, “Gorgeous, in the time we’ve been together, we’ve slept on couches and several different mattresses. And I always sleep well no matter where or what we are sleeping on. I sleep better because I’m with you, I feel safe with you.”
“Oh… oh!” he giggles a bit. Red starts to lightly color his face, he’s blushing, “That’s nice.”
You don’t think you’ve met anyone more awkward than this man, but you love him because of that, not in spite of it.
#formula 1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 writing#f1 x you#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norris#norris x reader#mclaren#formula 1 imagine#formula one#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 fic
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I think where I'm at is that I'm refusing to let myself get worked up or spiral into doomerism and despair. Please note that I'm not saying that grieving or being upset is bad or that you can't or shouldn't do it.
For a number of reasons:
-It's not helpful or good for me just personally. It's pouring salt and acid into the wound and keeping it fresh and raw.
-It's tiring and unhelpful. It doesn't lead to anything good. Unless you're going to take an irreversible step prior to January 20th, the focus should be on what's best for you, what you can do, how you can get through it.
-It's what they want. And by "they" I mean both Trump supporters and also everyone who profits and feeds off of your despair and dooming and engagement. They want you scared and upset and panicking because you're a weaker opponent, which is better for them. They want you dooming and spiralling and freaking out because if you're constantly keyed up and irritable, you can't focus, you can't plan, you can't be effective. They want you turned on and in all the time, giving them engagement and reactions and validation.
We've got a lot of shit already coming our way, and it's still 2 months until he and his team are in office. We're not going to make it those two months, much less 2 years or a full term, if we continue the way things have been.
I am still deeply upset, and I get hit with intense feelings of hopelessness and difficulty, but I have to pull myself through them. Because to do otherwise is adding to the defeat for myself.
We need to focus on what needs to happen to make change, get us through, help us find things to celebrate or focus on. Now more than ever.
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Wonder if Sam will take his new legal American bride to Italy? He will be married, although unlike Caitriona's it will be a fake marriage, by 31 Dec. He needs the residency.
Dear Married Anon,
Three possibilities on this one: a) you watched 90 Days Fiancé for way too long and with no attention to details; b) you think I am an idiot, with no legal knowledge or experience; c) you are an idiot, with no legal knowledge or experience.
Your question comes with two strong biases, too: a) that you somehow are privy to such nonsense and b) the old & stale fake vs. organic marriage refrain, regarding C (that, by the way, proves that I did hit a nerve).
I am not very sure to whom exactly do you think you are talking, here. But if I do know one thing is that you, honey, are a Mighty Twat. If you wanted to be consistent with the crap the Gay Crowd spreads around, you could have gone for 'he needs a more solid/credible beard than that', instead of the completely inane 'he needs the residency'. What is he, Burmese? Oh, FFS. And by 'Burmese', I mean exactly this: are his life/personal safety in clear and present danger, in his home country, because of his ethnicity and/or political views? The answer is no, and he could still use his right of asylum. Does he need the US residency in order to secure a better paid job for himself? The answer is no: lots of other avenues can be explored and are routinely being used by thousands of foreign actors/performing artists, in order to legally work and reside in the US. I have even mentioned it before:
(Full October 2023 post, here: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/729979831079649280/mordor-says-he-returned-only-for-visa-reasons)
But let's suppose even a nanoshred of what you wrote could technically be correct. When you are an US citizen and you want to bring your significant other to live with you there, you basically are offered two options:
Scenario One: you want to bring your fiancé(e) to the US and get married there. You will need the K-1 visa, as anyone even remotely familiar with that reality show I mentioned knows. That doesn't exactly click with a hastily cobbled 'new American bride' he would marry until December 31 and this is why, according to the US Citizenship and Immigration Services (USCIS) own website:
[Source, LOL: https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/A2en.pdf]
'You have met each other in person within 2 years before you file this petition'. Who is it, then? The whore? She is French. The chatty influencer? She's 'so over him' (FFS, LOL). Alice 'he's mine and will never be yours'' Panikian? If you think so, you are aff yer heid on cheap gin. Hm? Ashley Hearn? Met her too late and you all know it. A secret lover? ROFLMAO. And psst: Raya girls are just for fun, they don't think homestead. Cross my heart, Anon.
Current and official USCIS average processing time for fiancé petitions at their (logically) California Service Center is:
But it could be as long as 26 months and a half, if he decides to settle for a Vermont beauty (LOOOOOOOL).
You should also know a couple of other things, Anon. First thing is he will not be able to enter the US under the type of visa he currently more than probably holds, in order to do so - that would be a heavily punished immigration fraud:
Mhm. Restrictions on his ability to future immigration benefits/permanent residence, fine and imprisonment. I hope I do not need to further develop, on this one.
Last thing you should have taken into consideration before writing this bullshit is that the fiancé visa would restrict his ability to go back to his own home country during all the waiting time. Why would an actor refuse work opportunities in the UK or in Europe for the sake of a fake marriage, as you called it yourself? Oh, if you only had a brain!
Need I say more about the grueling in-person cross-check interviews ? You should watch a wonderful movie starring Gerard Depardieu (a pig alright, but he is perfect, in there) and Andie MacDowell: it's even called Green Card, LOL. Few things changed since 1990, and if anything, the screw got only tighter. Not to mention the fact he will be unable to work in the US during the waiting process and she will have to prove she can sponsor/provide for him! ROFLMAO.
Scenario Two: you get married abroad and want to bring your spouse to the US, afterwards. You will need to file the Form I-130 (Petition for Alien Relative):
[Source: https://www.uscis.gov/sites/default/files/document/guides/A1en.pdf]
All this does, in reality, is put the spouse in line with thousands of other similar applicants. Residency will be granted only after extensive background checks and this is where I would like to stop for a while, Anon. You are with the Gay Crowd, right? Then how does this logically click with your long established talking point about his 'once very public gay life? Ah: he isn't gay? ROFLMAO. You see, being gay is a bit like being pregnant, Anon: you can't be 'just a little bit pregnant' and you certainly can't be 'just a little bit gay', either. Spare me the drivel 🙄. Kindly note those background checks are dead serious and could result in deportation - thought you should know, before you spew idiocies again.
Onwards with that residency thing:
If S were in Scotland/the UK when the 'legal fake bride' would file in the petition, he would not be allowed to come visit or work in the US: why would an actor be forced to turn down lucrative opportunities in Hollywood or elsewhere in the country, for the sake of bearding or circus only? And while S could technically apply for permanent resident status if he already were in the US at the time of the application for I-130, he would still not be able to work and therefore must be sponsored by the 'legal bride'. ROFLMAO, again.
I mean, this is so ridiculous I could cry. He would be invited to come to the US only after the petition is approved, which does not click with your suggested timeline and the seeming 'emergency situation' ('he NEEDS the residency', your ask shouts at the Entire Universe) . Why the haste? Just because you wanted to somehow shoehorn it in, somewhere before Inauguration Day? I have no words, but my paunch hurts with laughing right now.
Finally let's have a look at processing current times:
But it could go as long as...
I cannot stress enough that permanent residency will be granted only after the processing time is completed.
Why, oh, why would someone so inextricably complicate his entire existence in such an idiotic fashion, Anon? And finally, give me and yourself a break and read the damn political room, here, too. I will not elaborate, but I surely hope you do not live under a rock.
I rest my case, thank you, fuck off.
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Tenuous Partnership (2)
With his custom fitted mirrored eye visor , securely situated over his eyes, and the hood of his hoody pulled up to cover the slightly unruly mess of golden locks, Jaune stepped from the shadows. Ozpin gave the young man a smile, and then indicated for him to follow.
"You'll be placed among the first years, once they arrive in a couple weeks." Ozpin informed Jaune as the pair walked along the hallways of Beacon, passing the third and fourth year students who were preparing to embark upon their two month long work shadow assignments.
"Can I ask why?"
"To socially acclimate you with society." Ozpin answered. "You have been isolating yourself in the basements for the better part of almost three years."
"But I like..."
"Be that as it may. You can not spend the remainder of your natural life hiding in the dark." Ozpin stopped walking and turned to face the young man. "Jaune there is a whole world out there for your to experience, and I refuse to allow you to molder away afraid of the outside world."
"But..."
"Jaune, as you know, you came here at the behest of your mother and aunt." Ozpin smiled, it was warm and comforting. "And that was only to help you gain control of your emerging powers in a safe and protected environment."
"But... but..."
"Jaune you are safe here. I and your aunt will defend you if anyone attempts to accost you with the intention of causing true harm." Ozpin placed a comforting hand on the slightly taller young man's shoulder. "It's time to stop hiding. You have a great future ahead of you. Don't waste it."
It was just after Ozpin finished speaking that a shadow fell over the pair. They both turned to see the weary looking Deputy Headmistress standing before them. Arms crossed over her ample chest.
"Glynda." Ozpin greeted her.
"Auntie." Jaune greeted in his turn.
"Are you sure about this Ozpin?" Glynda asked as she gave her nephew, the only son her sister had, a warm smile. "There are risks."
"I am, and we have made as good as preparations to mitigate those risks, as we can."
"I'm still not comfortable up here." Jaune commented as he noticed the questioning looks some of the passing students shot in their direction. "I should..."
"You will be staying in my quarters with me, from this point on, Jaune."
"But my stuff."
"It will be transferred from that... pigsty you called a room to your room in my apartment."
"But..." Jaune was cut off as Glynda moved in and pulled him into a hug. He stiffened slightly, but quickly relaxed as memories of feeling such warm comfort swept to the front of his mind.
"Jaune, it's time, and in my quarters you can dispense of this charade." she whispered in his ear. "You know I'm immune, just like you mother."
"I'm scared." Jaune informed his aunt, in the weakest whisper he had ever uttered.
"It is okay to be, but don't let it paralyze you." Glynda replied still holding her nephew in a tight hug. "You're not alone, you can do this."
"With your leave Headmaster." Glynda addressed Ozpin as she released her hold upon Jaune. "I would like to take Jaune to his new accommodations, and then out to the Emerald forest... for an assessment."
"Assessment?" Jaune asked totally caught off guard by that statement. He didn't know anything about being assessed. He didn't understand what he would assessed about.
"Very well." Ozpin turned from Glynda to Jaune. "I bid you a good day Mr. Arc, and remember we are here to support you. All of us."
"Thank you?"
"Come, Jaune. We have much to do."
"Okay?"
==> One <==
#rwby#jaune arc#pyrrha nikos#headmaster ozpin#utter and complete insanity#jaune is a gorgon#pyrrha is a monster hunter#glynda goodwitch#glynda & jaune are related
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Pretty Boy - Ch 2 (Evan Buckley x Reader) (Eventual Buddie x Reader)
Summary: You can feel Buck staring. When your eyes meet his, you realize he’s staring at your hand, which is still on Eddie’s knee. You slowly retreat, which makes Buck turn his attention to your face. You smile softly. He just looks out the window. The one where you’re an advanced paramedic, Buck and Eddie are firefighters, and you think you might be in love with both of them.
Ch 1
A/N: This is such a niche story and I am desperate for validation, please tell me if you enjoyed reading! Word Count: 3.4k Warnings: descriptions of gun violence, mental health issues/suicide ideation (nothing overly graphic IMO)
Unlike some people who work in this building, you know how to take orders. So, instead of dragging your feet and prolonging the inevitable, you go to Bobby’s office the second you get back from the call. Hen tries to say something to you, but you’re so focused on having this conversation behind you that you ignore her.
Despite the door being cracked open, you knock a few times.
“Come in,” Bobby says.
You step in. He looks up.
“Ah,” he remarks as if it’s a surprise to see you. “You can close the door behind you.”
You close the door and lean against it.
“Have a seat,” Bobby instructs as he files through some random papers.
You let out a sigh. You were hoping to be in and out, but Bobby clearly has other ideas. Still, you do as you’re told.
“I wanted to talk to you about what happened with Buck.”
As if you’d be in here for anything else.
“Are you gonna write me up?” You ask instinctually. You’ve never been formally disciplined, so the question is gnawing at you.
“Buck wants me to.”
You snort. “Buck wants a lot of things; most children do.”
“You’re a year younger than him,” Bobby points out.
It’s true—Buck is 26, and you’re 25. But in this context especially, age is just a number. You’re a 25-year-old advanced practice paramedic with 3 years of experience who acts their age. Buck is a 26-year-old firefighter in his probationary period who acts like a frat boy.
“Are you going to write me up?” You repeat.
Bobby gives you a look, then sighs with a crooked smile. “No. But if you do anything like that again, you’ll be hearing from me and Sergeant Grant.”
“Fair enough,” you cede.
There are a few silent beats in the conversation. This is why Bobby made you sit—he has more to say.
“Why does he bother you so much?” Bobby asks.
“Literally everything I told him: he’s wreckless and he’s gonna get someone killed if he doesn’t change.”
“So why not teach him to do better, to be better?”
“Trust me, Cap, I’ve tried,” you chuckle. “I mean, even earlier today, I taught him how to clear an obstruction in a neonatal airway. And honestly? For a few minutes, when he was running down the stairs with that baby in his arms, I thought, ‘Hey, maybe he isn’t so bad after all.’ And then he yells at Sergeant Grant, and he proves me wrong. Again.”
“I’m talking to him and Sergeant Grant about how everything went down,” Bobby says.
“I’m not telling you that to get him in trouble, I just…” You take a deep breath through your nose and let it out as a sigh. “It felt like no one was holding him accountable. And I’ve tried playing nice, and I’ve tried teaching him, and he still had the nerve to pretend that he can play god. And I just… lost it, and thought that maybe if I treat him like a man would, he would finally listen to me.”
Bobby nods, taking in everything you’ve said.
“You think I don’t hold him accountable?” He eventually asks.
You let out another sigh. “If Buck worked under any other LAFD Captain, they would have canned his ass about three months ago.”
“But is that the right thing to do?” Bobby counters. “This job is tough, and it isn’t something that can be taught overnight. Buck has potential—he could be an invaluable asset some day.”
“Is firing him the right call? Honestly, Bobby, I have no idea,” you admit. “But if people have to get hurt in order for Buck to be good at his job, then it isn’t worth the price.”
Bobby ended up firing Buck a few days later. It wasn’t for what happened with Sergeant Grant; it was because, apparently, Bobby caught him having sex with some girl on a roof. He used one of the fire trucks to drive there. The moron didn’t realize they have GPS trackers. You got all of this information in a text from Hen.
You turn the corner to the locker room, planning to put away your keys and wallet before starting your shift like you always do. You didn’t expect to see Buck sitting on the bench in front of the lockers.
You plan on opening your locker, throwing your stuff in it, and leaving before Buck can say anything. The second you lift the lever, though, Buck turns his head towards you.
He doesn’t say anything, and you definitely aren‘t going to break the silence.
“So you heard, huh?” Buck says.
You close your locker and spin the lock to scramble it. “Yeah, I did.”
“Aren’t you going to say anything else?”
“Tough break. Sorry, man,” you say with a shrug. You turn on your heel to leave.
“That’s it?” Buck says with a laugh. “A few days ago, you were slamming me against an ambulance, and now… nothing? Aren’t you supposed to say, ‘I told you so’?”
Buck doesn’t even work at the 118 anymore, and he still has a way of getting under your skin. You close your eyes, hoping you can gain some composure before you say anything.
“I’m sorry for pushing you; that was unprofessional,” you say and make your second attempt at leaving.
“But that’s all you're sorry for,” Buck says, rising to his feet.
You turn around and eye him from head to toe. His chest isn’t puffed out in that hypermasculine way it normally is. Buck shifts his weight between feet, and when the pressure of your stare becomes too much, he breaks eye contact.
“It’s like Sergeant Grant said: I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true,” you eventually reply.
“Then say it: you’re happy to see me go.”
Jesus Christ, he can be such a baby.
“Okay, fine, you wanna go there?” you retort, taking a step forward. “You wanna know the worst thing about you, Buck?”
He just looks at you.
“You. You’re the worst thing about you. Because you could’ve been good. You’ve got decent skills, and you have heart, but you have no discipline. You can’t take orders, and you can’t look at a woman for more than thirty seconds without having sex with her. You’re a 16-year-old boy trapped in a 26-year-old man’s body, and ever since you started, you haven’t done anything to change it. You get in your own way and are too busy flirting or running your mouth to even realize it.”
You take another step towards him to ensure he hears what you’re about to say. “You could’ve been good. And I hope that shit haunts you. Because maybe, it’ll finally make you grow up.”
You start to make your exit again but linger in the doorway. You turn back around; there’s one more thing you want to say.
“I’m not happy to see you go, Evan. In fact, I was really hoping you would prove me wrong.”
And with that, you’re gone.
You and Hen go out on a ‘shortness of breath’ call that ends up being a STEMI — a heart attack. You get him to the nearest hospital in five minutes, and if they can get him to the cath lab, he has a really good shot at surviving it. The patient’s wife hugs both you and Hen, thanking the two of you for doing such a wonderful job. You savor the feeling; most calls don’t end this way.
When you pull into the station, there’s an engine missing. At first, you think it’s no big deal: the boys are probably out on a fire call. Then you see Bobby standing where the engine’s supposed to be.
“What’s going on, Cap?” Hen asks as she closes the door to the rig.
“There’s an engine missing.”
“Yeah, clearly,” you chuckle.
“There were reports of a residential break-in on Lambert Street in Winnetka,” Bobby continues.
“Damn,” Hen whistles.
You both heard something about that over the scanner on your drive back to the station; there was a suspected hostage, a young girl. Last you heard, the subject was trying to flee by motorcycle.
“All of the 118 firemen are accounted for,” Bobby concludes.
You and Hen share a look. Who has a track record of borrowing engines without permission?
The truck pulls up and slowly backs into the garage. You catch a glimpse of the driver in one of the rearview mirrors.
“Pretty Boy,” you say simply.
Buck steps out of the truck, still wearing the jeans and long-sleeved grey shirt you last saw him in. “I know what this looks like.”
“Looks like you took the engine out in your street clothes,” Bobby says as he approaches the younger man.
“I didn't really have time to change,” Buck counters. He doesn’t say it in his normal cocky tone, though. Frankly, he looks nervous.
“Athena Grant called me, wanted to tell me what an asset you are.” Bobby continues. “Told her she was half right.”
Buck frowns. “Are you giving me another chance?”
“You’ve used all your chances; so have I,” Bobby says, “because somehow I have failed to communicate to you how lucky we are to do what we do.”
Bobby starts to walk away, but Buck isn’t letting him get away that easy.
“You're wrong, Bobby. I absolutely do get what a privilege it is to serve here,” Buck says, “and you know what? You were right to fire me.”
That makes Bobby stop dead in his tracks.
“I was a punk,” Buck continues, “still am one. But I'm a punk who understands what he lost. Just… needed you to know that.”
“I hope you mean that. Now go get dressed.”
Buck stands cluelessly for a second, then turns to you and Hen. “I think I’m not fired.”
“Your shift’s not over yet,” Hen points out.
You go to follow her, but Buck stops you by calling your name.
“I just wanted to tell you, uh…” Buck says, wringing his hands together. “I’m gonna prove you wrong.”
Normally, words like that coming out of his mouth would set your skin on fire. Between the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, though, something in your gut tells you to hear him out.
“Yeah?” You ask simply, waiting for him to elaborate.
“Some day, I’ll be good,” he says, “but until then, I’ll be better.”
Buck extends a hand for you to shake. It’s the most chivalrous thing you’ve seen him do since you met him. You look at his hand, then at his eyes. There isn’t a trace of humor in his gaze. You take his hand and shake it.
“I look forward to seeing it.”
Your first call of the shift is to an amusement park where one of the rides malfunctioned. A rider was thrown from the ride as it was moving, and it sounds like he’ll be DOA. When the operator deployed the emergency breaks, though, it meant the rest of the train stopped at the top of a loop, which one rider is now dangling out of.
Buck is the first to volunteer to climb the ladder and harness the passenger. You’re not surprised. He’s grown a lot in the last few weeks, but he still jumps at every exciting opportunity, no matter how dangerous it may be. Maybe that’s just how Buck is.
“Hey, he’s asking about his friend,” Buck radios once he’s at the top.
“Chimney, how’s the kid on the ground?” Bobby radios.
You look up and shake your head.
���We lost him,” Chim radios back.
“All right, I don't need the people up there seeing that. So, do me a favor... He survived, right? Get him on a gurney. You know the drill,” Bobby instructs.
“Copy that,” Chim replies.
Once you and Chimney get him on the gurney and out of everyone’s sight, you look up at Buck.
“Come on,” Chimney mutters encouragingly. “Come on, Buck.”
After a painfully long minute, you see the man’s grasp on the rollercoaster falter. Then, you watch him let go. You close your eyes before you see him hit the ground, but the sound will echo off of your eardrums for a while.
You go the rest of the night without seeing Buck; you don’t share another call, and when you’re not out in the field, you’re asleep in the bunks. It’ll probably kill you in the long run, but these days, you learn to sleep whenever and wherever you can.
When you wake up for morning report and breakfast, Buck is already sitting at the table. You wipe the sleep out of your eyes and get a cup of coffee before sitting across from him.
Bobby was nice enough to make breakfast; he knows how hard these calls are. No matter how many you get, it’ll never get easier.
Bobby sets a plate in front of Buck.
“I’m not hungry,” he says almost instantaneously.
“This is America, Buckaroo,” Chim replies as he sets some silverware on the table. “Eating has nothing to do with being hungry.
“Man, I was right there. You know, all he had to do was reach up and grab my hand,” Buck says instead.
“People do funny things at times like that,” you offer, sipping your drink. “ Sometimes they just freeze up.”
“I’ve never lost anyone before,” Buck says quietly. He looks up at you. “Does it get any easier?”
Bobby answers for you. “No.”
“Look, people die, and that’s part of the gig, right?” Chim says as he sits next to you. “See, your problem is, you're looking at every job like it's a long-term relationship. They're one-night stands, man. In that moment, they mean everything to you, but once the morning comes... it's on to the next one.”
“How silly of me to think you’d say something productive,” you roll your eyes.
Chim furrows his brows. “What?”
“You’re such a man,” you say to Chim, then turn to Buck. “Look, dude, we all go through it, and you just have to figure out a way to deal with it,.” You pause. “You know why we wear these uniforms?”
“Sex appeal?” Chim answers, which earns him a quick kick to the shin from you.
“So people can easily identify us,” Buck responds.
“That’s true, but… I don’t know, I like to think it’s because when we take it off, we can leave it all behind us. Right now, you’re firefighter Buckley, but when your shift is over, you’re Buck. It just… symbolizes letting go, I guess.”
“I see his face every time I close my eyes,” Buck says. “Does that happen to you?”
“It’ll pass,” you promise.
“And if it doesn’t?”
You stare at Buck for a moment. It’s hard to imagine that this is the same man who mouthed off to a police Sergeant mere weeks ago.
“Then you talk someone,” you eventually say. “A friend, a therapist, a bartender… you find a way to let it out, and then you let it go.”
Once again, you don’t see Buck for hours. You heard on the scanner that the 118 responded to several rescue calls, none requiring an RA unit. You spent the rest of your shift bouncing from call to call and ER to ER, seeing everything from stab wounds to childbirth. It’s shifts like this that remind you why you do what you do. It’s chaotic, stressful, and bloody, but it is fun. After a certain point, you don’t even have to use your brain; the adrenaline in your veins kicks your brain into autopilot, and your pounding heart is just along for the ride.
You step into the communal locker room, completely exhausted. You still have to change, and considering everything you’ve witnessed, you should probably shower too. Most of all, you want to go home and crawl into your bed.
Buck is sitting on the bench in the locker room, similar to how he was a few weeks ago after he was ‘fired.’ Just like you, he’s still wearing his uniform. His head is bowed between his shoulders as his elbows rest on his knees. This time, his head doesn’t perk up when you open your locker.
“I heard you used The Manuever today,” you spark the conversation. “Nice save.”
Buck finally looks up and then chuckles quietly. “Yeah, if only I could’ve done that a few days ago.”
You take a seat next to him. “Still thinking about Devon, huh?”
“I’m trying not to, I just…” Buck says, then cuts himself off as he shakes his head.
“It’s easier said than done,” you conclude.
“Yeah.”
“Yeah,” you agree.
Both of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You open your mouth a few times only to close it. You don’t want to tell this story; you hate even thinking about it. But if you’re going to sit here and tell Buck that he has to let things go, you have to do the same. It’s only fair.
“The first person I lost… her name was Katherine Vanec. She was 17 years old, wearing a University of Washington shirt, white shorts, and black Converse High Tops. We got a call from her mother, who was at work when she started getting strange texts from Katherine. It was supposed to be a welfare check, and when the cops got there, they found her locked in her bedroom. When fire and rescue broke down the door, she had a .22 caliber revolver pressed to her temple.”
“Jesus,” Buck mutters.
“Katherine had a history of Borderline Personality Disorder and suicidal ideation. She figured out that her high school sweetheart had been cheating on her for almost a year. They made plans together, I guess — they were gonna go to the same school, find a place off-campus to live together. He pulled the rug right out from under her, and she couldn’t take it.”
“So what happened?”
You smile sadly. “By the time we arrived, a negotiator had been talking to her for almost ten minutes. They thought she was in a good spot that all she had to do was put the gun down, and we would swoop in and 5150 her.”
“Involuntary admission,” Buck says.
“Yeah,” you confirm. “That didn’t happen. When the negotiator asked her to set the gun down, she lost it. She kept talking about how every time before, she chickened out, and she couldn’t let that happen again. She turned the gun on us.”
“Suicide by cop.”
You nod as a few tears well in your eyes. Even all these years later, that case haunts you. “Her finger wasn’t near the trigger; she didn’t want to hurt anyone. She just didn’t want to be alive anymore, and she couldn’t think of another way out. I can still hear the sound of the bullets tearing through her.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Buck asks softly.
You wipe at your eyes and clear your throat. “Let it out and let it go,” you answer, then nudge his shoulder with yours. “Your turn.”
Buck smiles; the expression is bittersweet. “I keep replaying what happened. I can’t shake this feeling that there’s something else I could’ve done. Maybe I could have grabbed his arm, or maybe there’s something I could’ve said differently.”
“Or maybe, no matter what you did, it was always going to end that way,” you suggest quietly. “Maybe he felt the same way Katherine did—like he had no other way out. We can try to rescue people, but we can’t make them want to be alive. Some people just don’t want to be saved, Buck.”
“That really sucks.”
You laugh. “Yeah, it does. I guess that’s why we have each other; it makes it suck a little less.”
“‘Each other’ as in you and me?” Buck asks in a lighthearted tone.
You roll your eyes, but secretly, you’re thankful for the change of pace. “‘Each other’ as in the 118, which technically includes you and me.”
“Sounds like a copout.”
You laugh and clap a hand on Buck’s shoulder before standing. “Have a good night, Buck.”
You make it to the doorway before he says your name. You look back at him.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
You bite your lip, but it isn’t enough to conceal your smile. “Anytime.”
#911 abc#evan buckley#evan buckley x reader#911 show#911 on abc#911 reader insert#evan buckley/reader#eddie diaz x reader#eddie diaz#eventual eddie diaz x evan buckley#evan buckley x eddie diaz x reader#Buddie x reader
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HELLO I AM SORRY TO COME SLITHER INTO UR ASKS LIKE THIS BUT I SAW U LIKE AD ASTRA (YK THE SCI FI BOOK) AND I HAVE BEEN GOING FERAL OVER IT SO PLEASE DO TALK ABT UR FAV THEMES IN IT
(if u like ofc no pressure <3)
Never apologize for asking me about AdAstra or event horizon in general. I will go feral about it all day every day any day of the week month or year I have playlists I have theories I have spinoff ideas I HAVE EVERYTHING YOU CAN HAVE WITHOUT BEING INVOLVED WITH THE CREATION OF SOMETHING OKAY
Favorite themes I mean you do spend a lot of time with Ranboo and his concerning amounts of generational trauma and depression however I am a very biased Tubbo content enjoyer so just all of Tubbo's themes from the self hatred to the guilt to the trauma and everything in between
But my all time favorite is probably the way that Ranboo sees Tubbo throughout De Terra, even though originally I didn't even notice and it was my friend who pointed it out.
Because it takes chapter 3 for Ranboo to ever even acknowledge that Tubbo can act like an ass, but even after that and ESPECIALLY in chapters 1 and 2 he just holds Tubbo on this imaginary pedestal where Tubbo can basically do no wrong like he's fucking Beatrice from Dante's Divine Comedy (I've come to really like that comparison actually). An it's so interesting for me to think about WHY Ranboo thinks like that
From Tubbo's pov, especially because we see it first, we know he's a fuck up. That he tries his best, but he's not perfect, because nobody is, duh. But Ranboo thinks he is, despite having firsthand experience of the opposite (Tubbo screaming at him after finding the Irillian codex). He is basically incapable of constructive criticism towards Tubbo and again it takes chapter 3 of De Terra for him to even consider it.
And for the explanation I'm thinking of, which again I had no part in any of the creation of the fic so it's just me having fun by speculating and anything I say should be taken that way, I'm gonna keep the comparisons to the Divine Comedy because I can and I'm unhinged. Because Ranboo has basically gone through hell (Voidfall) and when he joins the Syndicate, he subconsciously expects to now go through heaven with Beatrice (Tubbo). Except that doesn't happen and he's still fucked up because duh that's how healing works. But he's scared because it's not getting better, which we see directly on screen. And yet he's still holding onto this idea of normalcy and perfection and the person who embodies that for him is Tubbo, because he's the one who took Ranboo away from the traumatizing shitfest that was Voidfall. So Ranboo then tries to keep his own problems from Tubbo and either doesn't realize or doesn't think about the fact he can't fucking do that forever when they literally live and work together and yeah I could go on for so long -.-
#“yk-” of course i do#OF FUCKING COURSE I DO#i am feral about them okay#absolutely unhinged#i do not have my marbles together#my marbles have been scattered in between the chapters and they stayed there#textpost.bzzt#horizonverse.bzzt
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I'm sure they'll uphold that last promise.
#the owl house#philip wittebane#kid belos#toh#wittebros#wittebane brothers#belos#caleb wittebane#taking 2 months is still better taking a year#if you hate free time study engineering
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Wverytime I sit down at a computer to make music I get so scared
#i like siting down with a guitar and writing music but the daw is still so scary to me and i dont know how to make it less scary#its like i dont know where to start#i understand music theory i can write chord progressions i can write melodies but arranging feels so daunting#like just trying to pick keyboard voices and stuff im like overwhelmed and then its like i just dont even know where to start#i think i need to do more covers to practice arranging because trying to do it with my own songs im just like i have NO IDEA#i do think that trying to recreate arrangements of other songs I like will help me but also just idk#i really want to get better at writing at the piano but i find it really hard#rn i write almost all my songs on the guitar then i guess what i have to do is try to think of like what style i want it to have#and sort of try to create a map like probably literally on paper and then try to go in and sort of do it but god its so hard i dont know#it feels so so daunting#even trying to make silly little stuff with just like some synths is really hard for me right now its so out of my comfort zone and AUGH id#its frustrating im scared of the computer but i also very much do not want to be an acoustic singer songwriter but thats all i can do#because all i can do is play fucking guitar!!!! and its just so frustrating#technically im like with a midi controller i should be able to do whatever program drums write little synth lines etc i dont have to like#know how to play piano and yet whenever i try to do it i just get so overwhelmed and freaked out with how many possibilities there are#that i just . cannnnnt#AHGHHHHHHHHHHHH im so im in such a bad mood right ow#ive had such a horrible night honestly#i think i will just go engage in fixation for comfort and then go to bed sigh#i dont know what to do to improve at making music in the daw i guess ill just maybe try again this weekend to take another crack at it#god its just so frustrating that i only started writing songs 2 years ago and have only learned to use a daw in the last 3 months i WISH#that i was one of these teenagers who spent all my time writing silly songs and playing around with a midi controller but i just didnt#because i was scared!!!!!!!#playing the guitar and singing has always been like the only thing that felt safe cos i felt if i tried to actually write and arrange songs#by myself i would fail so now i just feel so frustrated because i dont feel like a real musician and i feel like im starting too late#AGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH whatever sorry for using the tags of this post as my diary but#i am frustrated!!!!
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anybody remember the stephanie brown essay I was working on under a research grant fully last summer? yeah it’s not done yet it super needs to be done and I’ve been avoiding working on it for weeks. someone tell me to just do it already
#the problem is. actually there are several problems#1) I’ve been out of the Batman/dc comics phase for almost a year so I don’t care that much about the topic#2) I am fifteen pages in and have not touched it in months so I’ve completely lost my train of thought#3) I can’t just reread it because I hate first five pages or so and I know I need to change it but I was trying to finish before editing#so now my only solution is I need to open up a new doc and completely restructure the whole thing by splicing together the existing writing#so that I can figure out where the hell im going with this and make sure things fit together better#unfortunately that sounds fucking exhausting#but I told my mentor I would have an update for him by the end of the week and. well. it’s the end of the week#I have to present it in April. I have to write and submit an abstract in March#the school gave me $1500 for this stupid essay and if I don’t have anything to show for myself.#well. I don’t know they can’t take the money BACK but it’s not a good look#and also I would feel bad#I did the research!!! i interviewed comic writers even!!! I just haven’t finished WRITING IT DOWN#and I KNOOOOWW once I get started it’ll be fine once I’m going I’m going#but STARTING is hard because I feel like I have to finish it in one go which makes it so huge and daunting#I’m like. slamming my head into a wall. just write a couple sentences Jess something is better than nothing#just start it you don’t have to finish just START just MAKE the new DOC#I know!!!!! that is what my therapist would say!!!! Jess you’re trying to oneshot it bc of your dumb adhd brain!!!!#stop looking at it like that and making it scarier!!!#but even tho I know that logically I’m still like oh I should put away the dishes o should make bread#I should work on my six different art pieces I should do laundry i should play with the puppy I should go for a walk I sh
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i know my body is doing its best but christ alive.
#keeping it fun and funky fresh#personal#i need a chronic illness tag#i've been doing frankly a lot better in the past week+ bc we got an upstairs window ac#and we've been keeping the house air conditioned bc even tho it gets cool overnight it is incredibly humid all the time (70-90%)#and the ac units take the humidity out from indoors as well as keeping things a consistent cool temp for me#but today i painted so i aired out the house all day. and. it was a mistake.#i feel fucking miserable. i could not get comfortable At All All Day.#also like. i haven't talked about this but i've gained quite a bit of weight in the last 2 years & especially the last 6 months#(being completely sedentary d/t chronic fatigue will do that to ya)#and so a lot of my clothes fit weird and feel bad and i haven't replaced them yet bc i still don't rly know how to shop#for clothing for trans women. especially bc a lot of those clothes are thrift store finds that Happen(ed) to feel good on me#and today i happened to be wearing underwear that i didn't realize were among the no-longer-comfy and the waistband would not stop rolling#and then it'd get pinched between my stomach & my lower abdomen and chafe horribly especially w/ how sweaty & sticky i was#it was just awful. it was just awful. i finally turned the ac back on even tho it's only 70° outside#bc i couldn't stand being in the (currently) 80% humidity anymore#and grayson helped me take a sponge bath after i broke down crying#and now i feel a little better but i'm just. tired. i'm tired & all of this is getting worse & my doctor doesn't seem to give a shit#heat intolerance
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Ok, back to girlblogging eheh (๑•̀ㅂ•́)و✧
#wren text tag#like I said I got busy with my finals and I still have to take 2 exams in a week or so#and I know I could have been online in the time being#sadly I got ill and had to take antibiotics for the third time since the beginning of this year 😂 didn't feel like being silly#or drawing stuff in general sorry 🙏 mostly I tried to get better#there's no way I will have to postpone those finals#very funny how this month I wasn't online all the things happend#final chapter of StS: ND is out and oh boy#they announced a new Lady Oscar anime and * Oh Boy *#also a new Magic Knight Rayearth might drop in some time (oh boy but we will see)#oh yes I think Lore Olympus should finish soon bc I remember reading the announcement some time ago#and Roll20 got hacked again I'm 😐😐😐 can you please stop getting hacked I don't want my email full of spam again 😊💖#btw I haven't read the latest chapter of ND yet. I think I will wait until it gets published in italian (hopefully 🙏🙏🙏)#tho that doesn't mean that the second I logged in I saw 300 posts abt it 🤨 lol I cannot escape spoilers I guess#but IDK guys... I've seen some reviews and I had a “is this a jojo reference” kind of moment that I cannot explain#well I have the vague feeling of knowing how to explain it but also I will wait until I've actually * read * it#yeah now I will go to check my inbox byeeee 🏃♀️🏃♀️🏃♀️#I never get tagged in anything but for reasons I was? Obv when I was in my sickly victorian child era and I couldn't do anything for it#Wren arriving late to the party once again lmfao 😂
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IVE NEVER GOT THIS HOWE DIALOGUE. THROWING UPPPPPPPPPPPP
#GOD. THIS GAME. RENDON HOWE DIE HORRIBLY CHALLENGE (EASY)#tay plays dao#A FOOL HUSK OF A DAUGHTER LIKELY TO END HER DAYS UNDER A ROCK IN THE DEEP ROADS????????#'bryce couslands little spitfire all dressed up and still playing the man' has always been one of my favorite lines Ever. AND NOW THIS ???#BRO.......................................................................................#oc: elspeth#for her this is taking place like. a bit less than 2 months after the deep roads supertrauma i was talking abt yesterday lol#her being at her weakest psychologically and. dsfkjhjfsdfd#hearing THAT?????????? and being like ok. some points have been made#but also after the deep roads shes simultaneously stuck in this ''nothing is real and nothing matters'' mindse so it doesnt hurt as much#since shes already been telling herself all that for months anyway.#like yeah ok and what of it. i might be nothing but im abt to cut YOU into nothing and that will make me feel better <3#GJKGFJKFG#i also think its so funny going from the deep roads to howe's estate quest. like going frm the closest thing in lore to hell itself#to the mansion of some fucking scrawny prissy loser who hasnt picked up a sword in 20 years w guards who dont know shit abt shit#the whole party just. cutting thru them like a wave sjdksjk#ANYWAY NOT TO TIE EVERYTHING BACK TO THE DEEP ROADS BUT IT IS LITERALLY ALL ABT THE DEEP ROADS BTW <3 ALL OF IT <3
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what is going on w my brain
#huge tag rant coming but dw about it#basically. if anyone here has known me on the internet for long enough yous will have gathered that i badly struggle w motivation and#fulfilling goals that i set for myself even if it's for smth i enjoy eg languages#it happens so often but especially over summer where my brain just goes Nope#“i have all this free time to do the thing I've been planning for weeks and i've been so excited about planning but now we have the time i#will be numb and sad and scroll“#i also have huge problems focusing unless every factor is perfectly balanced and even then it's still 50/50#i do have a bad attention span from being chronically online but even if you put me in a blank room w my task i'd be distracted by thoughts#external deadlines are some of the only things that can kick me into gear and i've been fine at uni so far#but i'm scared i'll have another a levels situation where my mental health was so awful i missed every essay deadline for french for 2 years#sometimes by up to a month#the only reason i got away w it is because i had a breakdown in front of my teacher and he was like “yeah take care of yourself the essays#are not that deep just get them in first thing after half term ig“#like that was v kind of him but if i ever have a situation that bad again i will genuinely fail uni cus you can't get away w that#where was i going w this (<- is aware of the irony)#right yeah this week i've experienced the epic highs and lows#highs of really enjoying my downtime and putting active effort into my hobbies instead of my downtime being “scrolling but i don't hate it”#but lows of realising how much time i 'wasted' in my teen years feeling sad and scrolling when i could have been developing skills and#having fun#and yeah i'm having a high rn and genuinely enjoying life but it's making me realise that my default state of being is just 😐#like even when i'm at uni where my mental health is so much better than at home when it's just me home alone or in my room i'm just 😐#not really having fun just existing v passively mindlessly scrolling waiting for the day to be over so i can see my friends in the morning#like not every day has to be amazing but surely there's more to life than just 😐 in 99% of your downtime#like i've struggled for years on how to answer “what do you do in your free time” cus i had to search for answers#i read and go on walks. which is true. but they were always things i did as phone breaks during weekends and not something i actively did#because i liked them#and because of past mental health issues reading and sports based hobbies have become tainted for me#i'm working on it but yeah#huge tldr. i'm finally starting to accept that i probably have a combo of undiagnosed mental illness and neurodivergence#because if it's taken me this long to realise how much it truly impacts my enjoyment of life then surely that's smth
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what are the consequences of lying to a psychiatrist asking for a friend
#AKA what wld their reaction likely be if i told them i havent been taking my meds for the past month#and that ive felt better in that time than ive felt in the past 2 years#thats like. thats good right#thats a sign i *shldnt* be taking these meds right#like im not saying im anti-medication or smth#there are still things going on w me that i think meds cld help with#i just really truly believe i was put on the wrong ones at first#and rather than stop and go “okay maybe these ones arent working” we just started treating the side effects with OTHER meds#like#fuck#i KNEW they werent working from the moment i started taking them#and i TOLD my drs#but they were just like “give it more time” or “well lets add this one on and see how you feel”#im so curious now what this past year wldve been like if id never taken any meds#i genuinely think it wldve gone better#anyway. i think im just gonna be honest w him#im not a danger to myself or others rn#i dont think hed see it as a Red Flag or anything#im specifically trying to tell him how much *better* i feel off of them#god. wish me luck.
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please forgive me, but I need to complain and over-share or my brain is going to explode please feel free to ignore
#I'm not doing well.#the last two places I worked (in a tourism-adjacent sector) closed. broadly speaking due to post-lockdown financial issues#for the past year at my current job I've been earning less than half what I used to. this was the only offer I got at the time and#I haven't found anything better since. this is not sustainable I'm barely making it each month...#I live with my parents and cancelled my health insurance I don't know how else to reduce my budget. it's depressing tbh#the solution is obviously to find a better job but that's just not happening and I'm beginning to feel discouraged.#I hate being negative it's a very unattractive character trait but I just feel myself slipping and spiraling#I know I should be taking short courses or volunteering to boost my cv but like when ! and how !#I can't afford to work less but I get home at 20h so even evening courses are tricky. I work every other saturday too so weekends are out#and like I do need to rest at some point you can't be depressed and burnt out that's a terrible combo#was looking at a dtp/typesetting short course and 1) I'll need a new computer that can actually run design programs#and 2) the course itself is like 2 month's salaries which I cannot realistically save right now#and yet I'm still ''over-qualified'' for entry level positions because I went to uni. well maybe that's just a polite excuse#because as interesting as my humanities degrees were they didn't equip me with any practical or marketable skills#besides being good at reading and writing. but AI can do that for free now so that's not helpful#I always thought I was reasonably intelligent but I cannot solve this puzzle. there must be a creative solution that I'm missing#but i feel so stuck and trapped#and at least once a week some poor soul stumbles in to the office practically begging for a job so I feel bad for complaining#a little truly is better than nothing#but thank god we elected more pro-business capitalists into government that really is going to be great for us workers (sarcasm)#also I should acknowledge#I am getting some déjà vu. I feel like I've vented about this topic before#the difference is. back then it was a potential concern. now the concern has materialised into reality and rendered the situation desperate
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God writing that last post was so, so hard.
Rn I feel the weight of every sadness and every bad thing that's happened to me since I was 9 and had my first important pet death
#my brain:#hey remember when your cat died and for years you thought it was your fault?#hey remember when your dog died and then like a week later your childhood best friends told you they never wanted to speak to you again and#how you still have NO idea why?#remember the depression that sent you into and how scared you felt that you could FEEL the happiness going away?#remember how your first suicide attempt was that year?#remember how when you were 15 you suddenly turned trans and also developed severe mental health issues and also your childhood cat died#while you were away so you felt you never got to say goodbye?#and how that same year you got groomed possibly TWICE?#and how that same year you got sexually assaulted in a way that was so weird you assumed no one would beleive you so you just didnt tell#anyone for years?#remember a couple years ago how you got the news you wouldnt graduate and then a month later granny died#and then a few months later your cat died very very painfully in your arms over a period of several hours while you suffered through choice#paralysis because you couldnt decide whether to take her to the far away emergency hospital since that would cause her MORE pain?#remember how you had to seriously consider asking your hunter neighbour to come inside and snap her neck?#remember how a week later your dog (who you got at age 12 to try to feel better about your other dog who just died and to try to stave off#inactivity from depression) had to be put down?#remember how 2 weeks after that your favourite uncle died unexpectedly?#hey remember how last week you got the call that your grand dad died?#thanks brain! i DID need to remember everything that was very helpful
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