#wind storm insurance

[indiegame]

did so much adulting today. wahoo

[mac-exteriors]

How to Handle Storm Damage and Roof Repair: Avoid Costly Mistakes and Protect Your Home

Severe weather can cause significant storm damage and roof repair issues, leaving homeowners with leaks, missing shingles, and structural damage. The biggest challenge after a storm is assessing the damage, finding a reliable contractor, and ensuring the repairs are covered by insurance. Many homeowners delay roof repairs or choose unqualified contractors, which can lead to costly long-term damage.

If you’ve ever wondered, “How do I know if my roof has storm damage?”, “What should I do immediately after a storm?”, or “How do I find a trusted contractor for storm damage and roof repair?”, this guide will help you take the right steps to protect your home and avoid unnecessary expenses.

Problem #1: Failing to Inspect Your Roof After a Storm

❌ The Issue: Hidden Damage Can Lead to Costly Repairs

After a storm, many homeowners assume if their roof looks fine from the ground, there’s no damage. However, storm damage isn’t always visible, and ignoring small issues can lead to:

Leaking roofs that cause water damage inside your home.

Weakening of the roof structure, making it prone to further damage.

Mold and mildew growth, leading to health risks.

✅ The Solution: Schedule a Professional Roof Inspection Immediately

Look for missing or curled shingles, water stains, or sagging areas.

Check gutters and downspouts for shingle granules, which indicate wear.

Have a professional roofing contractor inspect for hidden damage.

📞 MAC Exteriors offers storm damage roof inspections to help homeowners identify issues early and prevent costly repairs.

Problem #2: Waiting Too Long to Repair Storm Damage

❌ The Issue: Delayed Repairs Make the Damage Worse

Many homeowners put off storm damage and roof repair, thinking it’s not urgent. Unfortunately, this leads to:

Leaks worsening over time, causing structural damage.

Higher repair costs as small issues turn into major problems.

Insurance claim denials if damage isn’t reported in time.

✅ The Solution: Act Fast to Minimize Further Damage

Tarp your roof temporarily to prevent further leaks.

Contact a roofing specialist immediately to assess and document the damage.

File an insurance claim as soon as possible for coverage assistance.

📞 MAC Exteriors provides emergency storm damage and roof repair services, ensuring your home gets fast and reliable repairs.

Problem #3: Choosing the Wrong Roofing Contractor

❌ The Issue: Unqualified Contractors Can Do More Harm Than Good

After a storm, scam roofing contractors and storm chasers flood the market, offering cheap repairs that don’t last. This leads to:

Low-quality materials, which wear out quickly.

Poor workmanship, causing ongoing roof problems.

Incomplete repairs, leading to further storm damage.

✅ The Solution: Hire a Licensed and Trusted Roofing Expert

Verify the contractor’s license, insurance, and experience.

Look for local companies with a proven track record.

Get a written estimate and warranty on repairs.

📞 MAC Exteriors is a trusted name in storm damage and roof repair, offering high-quality materials and professional craftsmanship for lasting protection.

Problem #4: Insurance Claim Confusion

❌ The Issue: Many Homeowners Don’t Know How to File a Claim

Storm damage can be stressful, and dealing with insurance companies adds another challenge. Without proper documentation, your claim might be:

Denied due to lack of evidence.

Underpaid, leaving you with expensive repairs.

Delayed, making roof problems worse.

✅ The Solution: Understand the Insurance Claims Process

Take clear photos and videos of all damage.

Contact a professional roofing contractor for a detailed report.

File the claim as soon as possible to avoid delays.

📞 MAC Exteriors works with homeowners to document storm damage and assist with insurance claims, ensuring they get the maximum coverage for repairs.

Problem #5: Ignoring Preventive Roof Maintenance

❌ The Issue: Unmaintained Roofs Suffer More Damage in Storms

A weak or aging roof is more vulnerable to storms, increasing the risk of:

Shingles blowing off, exposing the home to leaks.

Gutter clogs, causing water to back up and damage siding.

Structural weakening, leading to costly replacements.

✅ The Solution: Invest in Preventive Roof Maintenance

Schedule regular roof inspections to catch small issues early.

Keep gutters and downspouts clear to allow proper drainage.

Repair loose or damaged shingles before they become a bigger problem.

📞 MAC Exteriors offers preventive roof maintenance services, helping homeowners strengthen their roofs against storm damage.

Final Thoughts: Protecting Your Home From Storm Damage and Roof Repair Costs

Storms can cause serious roof damage, and delaying repairs can lead to higher costs, insurance claim issues, and structural damage. Taking quick action and hiring qualified roofing experts can save you money and prevent long-term issues.

At MAC Exteriors, we: ✅ Provide fast, professional storm damage and roof repair services. ✅ Work with insurance companies to maximize your claim coverage. ✅ Offer preventive maintenance to protect your home from future storms.

📞 Contact MAC Exteriors today for a free storm damage inspection and ensure your home stays safe, secure, and well-protected!

[legacymindset]

[rjzimmerman]

This diagram illustrates how marshes can adapt to rising sea levels and naturally "migrate" upland if given enough space. Credit: Julie Rossman/Audubon

Excerpt from this story from the Audubon Society:

For over 40 years, the Coastal Barrier Resources Act has been a little-known bipartisan environmental law—quietly protecting critical bird habitat, providing coastal communities with a natural buffer against storms and sea-level rise, and saving taxpayers billions of dollars, all while staying under the radar. Audubon has long been a champion of this law, and now we have reason to celebrate! Last week, President Biden signed the Bolstering Ecosystems Against Coastal Harm (BEACH) Act, updating the Coastal Barrier Resources Act and expanding its protected system of coastal areas that buffers people and birds from flooding on our coasts. 

Congress passed the BEACH Act with overwhelming bipartisan support just last month, adding nearly 300,000 acres of wetlands and beaches to the Coastal Barrier Resources Act (CBRA) system, codifying its largest expansion since 1990. For years, Audubon has worked with a diverse coalition of partner organizations, multiple presidential administrations, and legislators on both sides of the aisle to massively expand the CBRA system, and the sweeping success of this bill is one of our most exciting accomplishments for the coast. 

Created in 1982, the CBRA protects coastal habitat and property while saving lives and federal taxpayer dollars in a distinctive way. Undeveloped beaches and coastal wetlands around our country provide vital habitat for birds and wildlife, especially in the face of climate change impacts such as sea-level rise and increased storm frequency and intensity. These coastal areas are also particularly prone to those climate impacts, endangering lives, property, and vulnerable species. The CBRA discourages development in these hazard-prone areas by removing most federal spending, including flood insurance, disaster recovery grants, and other federal expenditures on the CBRA’s system of protected areas. This market-based approach is working. A recent study demonstrates this in its finding that CBRA is highly effective at achieving its intended goals—reducing development by 85 percent compared to nearby areas, reducing flood damage by 25 percent, and adding ecologically important layers of protection to coastal areas. 

Currently, CBRA protects 3.5 million acres on the coasts of the Atlantic, Gulf of Mexico, Great Lakes, Puerto Rico, and the U.S. Virgin Islands. These largely undeveloped areas are an ideal habitat for birds like American Oystercatchers and Piping Plovers to nest and rest well away from any human disturbance. Intact coastal beaches and wetlands like this also serve as a natural buffer for nearby communities from storms and sea-level rise. Beach dunes act as speed bumps to slow down wind and waves, and marshes act as sponges soaking up floodwaters. 

[mythmash]

LA Wildfire Resources

this is a collection of all of the information and resources i've found to help those affected by the los angeles count wildfires. this is not a completed list, and you are welcome to send me an ask with any additional links, fundraisers, information, or other resources that you know of and i will update this post accordingly. if there are any missing or incorrect links, please let me know. stay safe out there 💜

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Live Updates on the Southern California wildfires & Evacuation Orders

LA Scanner - Coverage of Pursuits, Crimes, Wildfires and More.

2025 Los Angeles Fires - Resources for Californians impacted by Los Angeles Fires.

LA Wildfire Resource Center - Resource navigator for finding emergency resources and support services.

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Mutual Aid Los Angeles & their Fire & Wind Storm Spreadsheet - An ongoing spreadsheet of resources such as shelter info, animal boarding info, addresses for distribution centers, volunteer opportunities, etc.

LAFD Emergency Funding Alert & Fire Zone Map - Donations to help support the Los Angeles Fire Department.

The Partnership for Inclusive Disaster Strategies - Lists of evacuation shelters and hotlines for those who are disabled and in impacted by the fires.

Los Angeles Regional Food Bank

Thread of mutual aid groups assisting through Los Angeles

CleanAirLA & MaskBloc LA - Mutual aid project to distribute free masks and respirators in the so-called Los Angeles area. They are currently taking donations for masks.

MaskBloc LA & their Mask Requests and Volunteer Interest - A form to fill out if you need masks or want to volunteer.

List of shelters, animal boarding, distribution hubs, and free items

Pacsun providng clothes and listing organizations to donate to

World Central Kitchen - Donate to support their efforts in Southern California to support first responders and families impacted by wildfires in the Los Angeles area.

Thread of organizations to donate to - Thread including links to disaster relief, firefighter aid, food banks, first responders, etc.

SoCal Wildfires: How You Can Help - Article including links and info for Californians. Links are also included in the Thread of organizations to donate to above.

Pete and Thomas Foundation supporting Pasadena Humane & LA Animal Care - How to support, injured wildlife hotline, and listed shelters for large and small animals.

Thread of GoFundMes to support people affected by the wildfires

What to keep in a grab & go bag - List of things to keep in a easily accessible bag in case of emergency evacuation.

Displaced Black Families GoFund Me Directory - Spreadsheet dedicated to black families devastated by the Altadena fires.

Advice from a survivor of the 2017 Thomas Fire on insurance, rebuilding, etc.

California Volunteers - Donate, organize, and volunteer for wildfire recovery here.

Baby2Baby Disaster Relief and Emergency Response Program - Donate to help distribute supplies to children impacted by the wildfires.

Guitar Center is replacing instruments lost as a result of the LA wildfires

Sunny Optometry is offering support to those in need of glasses, contact lenses, eye drops, face masks, and wi-fi

Stratia is offering a free place to work if you need a work space with wifi right now, and donation drop off/sorting + storage site for people who organize.

Seconds Market & their Match Donation Program - A program designed to directly connect donors with individuals affected by the LA fires.

Anti-Recidivism Coalition & their donation page - Donate to help support the incarcerated fire crews, including the 30 young men from Pine Grove currently out fighting the LA fires.

Spreadsheet of Free Mental Health Services for the LA Wildfire Crisis

Tips from an attorney on dealing with insurance companies

County of LA Vital and Property Records Access - LA County residents directly impacted by the fires can request property and vital records free of charge to help with recovery efforts.

Azay in Little Tokyo, LA - Donate to help provide free meals to evacuees, first responders, volunteers, folks who can’t leave their homes, and their houseless neighbors.

[happy74827]

The Perfect Gift of Appreciation

[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.

WC: 2897

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,

A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔

『••✎••』

He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.

It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.

You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.

"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.

The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.

Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.

Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.

The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.

"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.

Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.

"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"

You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.

The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.

You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.

The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.

You had no other choice, and he knew that.

So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.

The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.

His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.

You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.

Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.

"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.

"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"

Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?

He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.

"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."

You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.

Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.

Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.

So why the sudden change?

You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.

The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.

Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.

Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.

"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.

He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.

He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…

You know, the typical doctor questions.

Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.

As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.

He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.

Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.

Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.

The numbing shot.

The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.

He almost looked bored.

You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.

You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.

Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.

The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.

It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.

Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.

Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.

"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.

"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"

That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.

When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.

Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"You know, I miss this."

You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"

He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.

Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"

"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"

You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.

A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.

It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.

When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.

The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.

The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.

Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.

It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.

He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.

Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.

Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.

He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.

Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.

You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.

"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.

Damn, that was fast.

He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.

The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."

"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.

You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."

You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.

It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.

You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.

Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.

Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.

And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.

As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.

There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.

You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.

Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.

But tonight? What a true blessing.

You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.

Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.

And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.

You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.

It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.

Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.

Well, no one except you.

[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️

I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈

[jo-harrington]

Squall (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort. Established Relationship

Note: I had actually started this a few weeks ago during the first big storm of the season when we had tornadic activity. And then I second guessed myself. Then the other night this exact thing happened to me with some lightning right in my area. So I brought her back. Wish we could have an Eddie to calm us during a storm.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Part of being from the midwest meant that the weather was a part of your personality, whether you liked it or not.

Complaining about heat and cold and humidity with and to anyone who was willing to listen. Cursing drivers struggling through the slushy streets of the season’s first snows. Standing outside during summer storms with your dad until the skies turned green and you were forced to seek shelter from—probably, but most likely not—a tornado.

As a matter of fact, you and Eddie only met because of the weather. It had been a rainy Tuesday night and the two of you had gotten into a fender bender just outside of the Hideout. You'd been embarrassed when you said you didn't have insurance, but thankfully he worked at the local body shop and said he would handle everything. As long as he could buy you a drink.

So in your opinion, a little rain never hurt anyone.

Until it could.

Your dad always used to joke that the only time you got scared of the dark was during a thunderstorm. And the only time you were afraid of thunder was at night. You were the butt of many jokes during your childhood, after nights when you would wail in your bed as thunder roared right outside your window. As you got older, your fear never dissipated; you only understood it more. Only hid it more.

During the day, you could prepare for a storm. You could look outside the window, see the skies darken. See the trees whipping and know that you were in danger. But at night? And late? It was impossible.

Dark skies were made darker by the clouds, visibility near to zero. The gentle, constant patter of rain against the roof could usually lull you to sleep, but when the wind rolled in and rattled the windows? Or when an unexpected BOOM of thunder broke you from your dreams, as a storm howled right outside? It shook you to your core.

You were not in control and you were in danger, the instinct instilled deep in your bones.

Now, ifyou were lucky, Eddie would be right beside you and you could cuddle into him and let the weight of his arms and the sound of his heartbeat shield you from the chaos just outside. But some nights, you found yourself in bed, alone, and shaking under the blankets.

Like tonight. A sudden boom of thunder tore you from your dreams and your eyes darted around the dark room as your heart raced with fear. You could see the little bits of light under the door of your bedroom and your panic subsided the slightest bit knowing that Eddie was not out in the storm.

He was a night owl thanks to late practices at Gareth's or DnD sessions that ran long. You were always astounded if he made it home before midnight, let alone in bed.

You knew that if you could just get up, you would find him just beyond the door watching the flashing television screen as he finished the last bits of his dinner. But you were practically paralyzed, not just unwilling but unable to move. As if the monster that caused the pandemonium outside wouldn't realize you were there, and might let up it's torment if you just stayed still.

Irrationality enabled by a sleep-addled mind.

Another flash of lightning clawed around the edges of the curtains, illuminating your bedroom and you whimpered and curled in on yourself. You wrenched your eyes shut as the thunder rumbled and shook your walls, and you missed the sound of footsteps padding down the hall. You didn't notice the door squeaking open, or the soft call of your name.

You were alone with your fear until the bed dipped behind you and Eddie slid under the comforter. His arms curled around you, perfect placed around your waist like they were mean to be there, and gently pressed a kiss to the back of your neck.

"Hey," he whispered softly. "You ok sweetheart? I could practically hear your teeth chattering all the way out there."

"It's just a storm," you mumbled back, feigning courage even though you both knew you his question had been rhetorical. However, you were relieved that he was here, and you settled into his embrace; you also didn't want to inconvenience him. "You go back out there. Finish your dinner."

"What dinner?" he snorted. "I was so hungry, I even ate the plate."

His fingers trilled at your side, trying to get a laugh out of you by force if you were not going to respond to his joke on your own. Terribly ticklish, you squirmed against him until you accidentally elbowed him in the gut.

"Oof, here I come to save you from Thor's wrath, and you inflict bodily harm upon me," he groaned. "I see I'm not welcome here—”

There was another flash outside and the thunder rumbled, closer this time, and you shouted, "No!" Then turned in his arms so you were facing him.

"Ah, there you are," he grinned and pulled you closer. He tucked your head under his chin so you could focus on the beat of his heart instead of the sounds of the weather outside. "Thought I was just gonna talk to the back of your head all night."

“I didn’t want to ruin your night,” you whispered.

“How’s it ruined? This is my favorite place to be.” He squeezed you and pulled the comforter higher over your shoulders. "My baby needs protecting, which I don’t get to do too often. I'll be here, proverbial sword and shield at the ready."

"You're still wearing your jeans." You reached down and pinched his denim clad thigh.

"Knight in scratchy armor," he pressed a kiss to your forehead. "I've slept in my jeans before."

You both knew that you wouldn’t be falling back asleep with the storm rolling outside, so Eddie did what he knew he did best: he talked.

Told you about his day and his night. Told you about a new idea that he had for a campaign that would absolutely demolish the guys.

"You're smiling way too big," you accused him.

"You love me for my bloodlust, sweetheart."

There was an unexpected flash and boom outside that practically shook the walls around you; a few car alarms even went off outside your window. You shrunk deeper into Eddie's embrace and he pressed kisses to the crown of your head.

"Alright," he muttered. "What can I say to make you feel better? Angels bowling? Huh? What do you think? Saint Michael must've just bowled a 300. It's useless counting the seconds between the lightning and the thunder, I'm pretty sure the thunder got to us before the lightning did."

Rain pelted the side of the building and the window rattled again.

He started making a bunch of nonsense noises with his mouth, as loud as he dared considering your proximity. It took you a second to realizing he was mimicking the screeching sounds of his guitar. His fingers pressed into the side of your thigh like he was pressing against the strings on the fretboard.

"Won't you listen, cos I'm at it again," he sang softly. "Lightning striking and on that you can depend. Come on, it's your turn."

"I can't sing," you laughed.

"Good, then maybe you'll scare the storm away. Come on."

You muttered a soft fucker and then sang along with his "accompaniment."

"They say that lightning never strikes the same place twice," you took on a falsetto and winced at the pitchiness. But another roll of thunder made you ignore your embarrassment and sing louder. "Gods of thunder sit and watch the event."

There was another flash outside the window and Eddie pulled you so you both were standing on the bed. No, not just standing. Jumping, just like you would during one of his shows.

Together you sang.

"I won't stop rockin' all night, rockin' all night, until the lightning strikes again." Another resounding BOOM, and Eddie covered your ears with his hands as you kept jumping. "Rockin' all night, rockin' all night, until the lightning strikes again."

You both kept singing and jumping and air guitaring and headbanging, straight into an epic finale of your performance. Until finally...finally...you realized that it was silent outside.

No rain, no thunder, no wind.

The two of you collapsed back on the bed, laughing breathlessly. Eddie pressed kisses all over your face.

"We survived!!!" He exclaimed. "We lived."

"I'm surprised the bed survived," you chuckled. He leaned in close.

"It doesn’t have to,” he muttered suggestively. When you hit a hand against his chest he stuck his tongue in your ear, making you squeal. “Fine. If the bed’s a rockin’…we’re only chasing thunderstorms away.”

You snuggled close to him and gave him a soft kiss that he sighed and happily accepted. You nuzzled your nose against his once you pulled away for air.

“Thank you, Eddie,” you whispered.

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Would take a the literal God of Thunder to keep me away.”

[mama2bears]

The Storm Of Life - Part 1

Warnings: mention of death (no main characters), tornado

Pairing: Tyler Owens/ F. Reader

Summary: You are a single mother, currently sleeping in your car and trapped in the path of a tornado when Tyler finds you. He will go above and beyond to help you put the broken pieces back together again.

A/N: I had this idea and so far it has been really easy to write. Please let me know what you think. I was thinking of just doing little chapters and maybe do a slow burn relationship? Let me know what you think and if you want to see more. I am still new at writing fan fiction, so I love your feedback! Thank you for reading.

Part 1

“THERE IT IS!” Boone pointed out the funnel, “Seems to be heading east.”

“I got it.” Tyler made a sharp right turn on the next road. The tornado was a big one and it was heading directly towards them.

“WOO!!!” Boone hanged out the window with the video rolling, “Are you guys seeing this!” he yelled for all of the YouTube followers.

“What the hell...” Tyler slammed on the brakes and Boone almost went flying.

“What the..” then Boone seen it.. A small car parked on the side of the road, hood up, smoke coming from under the hood and in the direct path of the oncoming tornado.

“HEY! You gotta get out of there! You okay?” Tyler yelled.

He saw you in the driver's seat and clearly you had been crying. You had your young son and daughter in the back.

In an instant Tyler was out of the truck, “Come on, get in my truck!” he yelled over the roaring winds. He ripped open the back door and grabbed your son while Boone ran to the other side of the car to get your daughter.

Tyler helped you in the the backseat of the truck and handed you the children, 'We gotta go!”

“LULU! My LULU!” your little girl cried.

“Honey we can't...” you say softly.

“What's LULU?” Tyler asked.

“Her stuffed bear.” you say

Tyler ran back to the car and grabbed the stuffed animal off the back seat.

“Here sweetie. We can't leave LULU behind.” he handed the animal back to your daughter and hit a button on the center console of his truck.

“What are you doing? The tornado is here!” you scream.

“I know...put those harnesses on and hold on. We don't have time to outrun it now. I've anchored the truck, we will be okay.” Tyler turned around in his seat to make sure everyone was getting seat belts and harnesses on before he slipped his own harness on.

The truck shook as the twister passed right though them. There was a loud bang outside the window and your son cried “Our car mommy! Our car is gone!”

“We're okay!” Tyler yelled in hopes of comforting them. “It's okay...tornado is passing...it's okay.”

As quick as it got started, the tornado was gone and blue skies began to appear.

Tyler turned around to speak to you and his heart broke, seeing you and your kids in tears, “Hey, hey....it's okay. I'll see if I can find your car. We'll take photos for the insurance. They'll help you get another one. In the meantime I'll give you a ride home.” he tried to comfort you.

“That car was our home. Now I really have nothing.” you cried.

Tyler sighed and his eyes meant Boone's. He knew he had to help you, but he wasn't sure how just yet.

“It's going to be okay.” Tyler opened his door. “You guys stay here. There's a lot of debris out there and I don't want anyone getting hurt. I'll go see how bad it is.”

“I am scared mommy.” Your daughter cried. Your son was looking out the window crying. Boone turned around and saw you trying your best to dry your tears and comfort the kids. He wasn't great with kids, he didn't really have any experience, but he had to try something. It was breaking his heart to see you all so scared.

“Hey...who want's some ice cream? There's a little shop right up the road.” he gave a soft smile.

The kids crying stopped. “ME! ME! ME!” came happy yells from the backseat. Boone grinned, satisfied that he had made the kids happy, at least for a moment.

Tyler returned, a heartbroken look on his face. He got in the truck and turns to the back to look at you, “Sorry miss...the car is totaled. It's wrapped around a tree back there. I grabbed some clothes and toys I found and I've put them in the back of my truck for you.

“ICE CREAM! ICE CREAM!” the children in the back were still chanting, despite you trying to calm them down and fighting back tears.

Tyler frowned, a bit confused on why the kids were cheering for ice cream.

“We gotta go get ice cream!” Boone grinned at Tyler, “And you're buying.”

“Who's idea was this?” Tyler asked the kids with a small smile.

“HIS!!!” Both kids pointed at Boone, who tried to put on an innocent face.

“Alright...Ice Cream it is.” he smiled, keying up the radio to let the rest of the team know, “We're making a emergency ice cream stop in town.”

“A what?” Lily asked.

“Just meet us at the ice cream parlor in town.” Tyler said before starting the truck and heading towards town.

“I'm Tyler by the way. This is my buddy Boone.” he said, “We're storm chasers. I am glad we came by when we did. What you doing out here?”

“I was heading into town to see about finding a new baby sitter. My old one just quite and and I can't afford to lose my job. But now I don't know what I am going to do.” you turned your head to look out the window so your kids couldn't see the tears run down your cheek.

“Hey hey now...it'll be okay...What's your name?” Tyler asked.

“I am Y/N. This is my son Billy and my daughter Harley.” you say.

“Hi Billy and Harley!” Tyler smiled, “How old are you guys?”

The kids were silent as they looked at Tyler and back to their mom, “Harley just turned 3 and Billy is 4.” you tell him.

“Four and a half.” Billy corrects. “I four and a half.”

“Four and a half.” Tyler nods and flashes you a grin, “Get it right Mom! He's four and a half.”

You give him a grateful smile as he pulls the truck into the local ice cream shop. Thankfully the twister had touched down outside of town and died out before reaching it.

Tyler opens the door for you and lifts both kids out. “This is a big truck! I love trucks!” Billy smiled.

“Really?” Boone said as Tyler opened the door for everyone, “You know T here shoots fireworks off the back of his truck.”

“REALLY!” Billy's eyes light up.

“Really,” Tyler said. “Hey, maybe later I'll let you hit the button that makes them go BOOM!”

“YAY!” Billy cheered.

“What about you, Harley?” Tyler looked at her, “You wanna shoot off fireworks too?”

She nodded, biting at her figure nails.

“She's really shy...until she gets to know you. Once she knows you, she'll be stuck to you like glue.” you say as your daughter wraps her little arms around your leg.

Tyler gives you both a smile just as the rest of the team arrived.

“Ah, here's my team! This is Lily, she operates our drone.”

“You got a DRONE too! Can we set fireworks off of THAT!”

Everyone laughs and Tyler shakes his head no, “Sorry little man. Can't set fireworks off the drone, but we can look on a screen and see some really cool videos. It will be almost like you're a bird flying.”

“COOL! I am a eagle!” Billy yells, pretending to fly around the ice cream shop.

“Billy, stop that and come here.” you scold, to which he comes over and stands next to you.

“This is Dexter. He's our scientist and weather watcher. He helps Dani with our merchandise sales.” Tyler points to Dani, “And that's Dani...she's scientist, sales, YouTube, photo taker, you name it, she does it.”

“Everyone, this is Y/N and her two little ones, Billy and Harley. Their car just got wrapped around a tree by the tornado so, we're helping them out.”

“Oh my God, are you guys okay?” Lily asked.

“Yes, Tyler got us into his truck just in time. Thank God he got there.” You were shaking, realizing just how close you and the kids came to losing your life.

“Hey, it's okay now. Don't worry.” Tyler gave you a small hug, “So, what is everyone having?”

“Chocolate.” Dani ordered, “Strawberry” came Dexter's order, “Rocky road” Lily chimed in.

“Banana Split” Boone said, “And T said he's paying for it!” he informed the team.

You and the kids are looking at the many different ice cream flavors when Tyler walks up behind you, “Know what you guys want?” he asks softly.

“Bent Socket Rip.” Harley smiles.

Tyler frowns for a moment, then catches on, “Mint Chocolate Chip, right?”

Harley nods with a smile.

“Mint chocolate chip for me too!” Billy adds.

“And what about for mom here?” he asks.

“Chocolate will be fine. “ you smile.

“Coming right up.”

Everyone gets their orders placed and takes a seat around one of the tables.

“So you're storm chasers...you do this for a living?” you ask.

“Yes..and because it's fun.” Tyler smiles. “We do this to collect data for varies weather teams and to try to approve the warning time for these storms. We go into towns and help out after a tornado. I enjoy my work, even if it's dangerous. I respect the storm, but I try to have fun with it too, that way other people will want to learn more about thunderstorms and tornadoes and maybe learn how to be safe in them.

“What do you do?” he asks.

“I am a waitress at the diner here in town. Or I should say used to be. If I don't find a sitter by tomorrow then I am fired. And now I don't even have a car...so. I don't know. If it's not one thing it's something else.” you shake your head and try to hold back the tears that want to fall.

“We'll figure something out.” Tyler promised. “I am not just going to leave you stranded.” he bite his bottom lip trying to think.

“Hey guys, once you all are done with your ice cream, why don't you take the kids out and show them all the cool stuff we've got.” Tyler told the team.

“Can I see the fireworks!” Billy asked.

Tyler laughed, “Not yet, buddy. No shooting off fireworks in the parking lot. But maybe we'll go off into a field later and fire some off.”

“YAY! BOOM BOOM!” Billy's eyes light up with excitement.

“Thank you.” You give a small smile to this guy who just happened to stop and pluck you and the kids out of a tornado's path, and now he was going out of his way to make the kids happy and try to keep their mind off of the serious of the situation.

Once the kids were done with their ice cream the team lead them out to explore all three of their vehicles and the equipment that made storm chasing possible.

“Do you have any place to go?” Tyler asked once the kids were outside.

“No...I don't even know anyone.” you turn your head away as tears rolled down your cheeks.

“Hey, it's okay.” Tyler's voice was kind and gentle, “you know me and the team..that's something.” he placed a hand on your shoulder to comfort. “How about the kid's father? Is he in the picture?”

“No. He was killed three years ago in a tornado. Him and my parents. He went to get my parents from their house because they didn't have a storm cellar and we did. They were killed on the way back to our farm. The tornado blew the truck off the road.” you broke down in tears remembering that awful day. “Harley had just be born...”

“I am sorry.” Tyler pulled you into a hug. “No family or anything around?”

You shook your head, “My parents were my only family. His family had passed away before we met.”

Tyler took a deep breath, “Okay, let me make a phone call. I think I might have an idea.”

He stood and walked to the back of the parlor.

“Hey, mom?” he said when she picked up the phone.

“Listen, I have a lady here with two little children. Their car just got destroyed in a tornado. They were living in the car. She has no family and no where to go. That's about all I know right now, but she's gonna need a place to stay and maybe someone to watch the kids. At least for a little while. She's working at a diner here in town.”

“Okay, great. Mom, thank you. I love you too. Bye Bye.”

Tyler was smiling when he returned to the table, “Okay, my mom and I have a ranch about half an hour from here. We have two spare bedrooms and you are welcomed to stay there as long as you need. She even volunteered to watch the kids when you go to work. It's just her and the animals when I am not around, so I am sure she would enjoy some company.”

You smile and hug Tyler, “Thank you, thank you so much.”

“Not a problem.” he smiled. “Wanna go shoot off fireworks on our way?”

You smile, drying your tears, “Actually, that does sound pretty awesome.”

“Hot dog, let's go do it then!” he stood and walked with you to the door, “Who's ready for fireworks!” He yelled as he pushed open the door.

The whole team screamed like kids, making you break out in laughter, for the first time in years. You didn't know what laid ahead, but at least now, you had hope that maybe you could get back on your feet again.

[shotofstress]

In August of 2024 I was without electricity, phone, and internet connection because huge storms with lightning, rain, and winds. We even have floods, the roof is full of holes so it rain inside every year as well floods, but now with the state of the weather things are much worst.  We had never have winds like that here. At this rate, in 4 years we will have tornadoes, a thing we have never ever have here. Nor our lands, infrastructures, and culture are prepared for this. Many haven't recovered from this nor any of past natural disasters.

Then spring and summer came, and bc all the destruction of our nature and the draught territories the little forests that are left of our native trees and plants caught fire with the pines throughout different regions a number of times.

Companies and its countries are stealing our water for mining, for avocados, strawberries and other native fruts and veggies that I can't buy to eat bc are sent to other countries, planting non-native pines to cut down and sell the wood to the world and have dried up the land, causing more and more fires, more and more deaths every year. On 13 February alone, there were forest fires in six municipalities in one region and 14 fires were burning. The emergency has left more than 20,800 hectares burned by the flames, as well as 44 victims and 28 houses destroyed in those days alone. There have been fires every week for months. The last few weeks it is almost every day somewhere in the country.

The goverment can't fix the country bc we still live under the dictatorship constitution and its politicians and families, and the president has being constantly attacked by the pro dictatorship groups from our country and others, fake news, terror campaings, etc, even the ensurance company group, the one that has Principal (AFP Cuprum), Metlife (AFP Provida), and Prudential (AFP Habitat) threatened my president this month because he and our chambers proposed and made slight improvements to the system because private companies of ensurance and pensions (that are from USA of course) have millions getting sick, disabled or dying because they can't afford medical care nor anything.

This threat was issued by David Chavern, president and CEO of the American Council of Life Insurers in the form of a letter to the extent that it was made known to the public. I can't ignore that one of the groups that also has their ensurance company here is UnitedHealthcare that owns Banmédica, another criminal company. Yeah, UHG, the one that had its CEO executed by The Adjuster. Yes, all USA insurance companies in my country are affected by this little change made to try to help my people to stay alive and have a little more of money that still will not make us live with dignity and out of poverty. So, yeah, is easy to say that UHG is more than angry with my country and back then the 1973 coup has made, among other things, to install this evil ensurance system and this companies.

Even in the cities there are fires. This past week I saw 2 fires in just 3 days, with houses on fire just a couple of blocks away from me. Now it has began autumn and, if I take as reference past years, it will not be like it used to be, but just like a winter part 1 now. Is already getting cold in the night and early morning making my articulations hurt, while in the day the heat makes me tired and weak, causing fires.

Last year people helped me, was awesome, but sadly it wasn't enough. I cleaned by hand the black mold from the walls of the storage room where I live and painted a bit with the little anti mold paint I found in an old tin that was left in a closet. Looks better and smells better and made me happy, but the walls are still broken, one of the walls is still not a wall, and the people of the place is still horrible and abusive. I'm still unemployed even when I tried to sell my art works, get a job, sell second hand clothes, find remote work, and even sent a cultural project to the Ministry of Culture to try to get funding and thus have a wage. Nothing worked. I got rejected in all and honestly I can no longer work because of my disability.

My health is getting even worst. Chronic pain, chronic illnesses and long covid are worse and make me more and more disabled with each passing semester. Eating is hard bc gluten free and dairy free food is terribly expensive (I have celiac disease and lactose intolerance) so I keep being hungry every day, i haven't eaten a piece of bread in months, I cant even make my own bc the gas and electricity is expensive as well the flour that I can use. Being autistic and having c-PTSD as well depression and fibromyalgia doesn't help and the violence never ends.

As far as I'm concerned, I've been on my own all my life, my only support is my couple that also helps me as a caregiver sometimes, is the only family I have. We don't live together bc poverty, we can only be thogeter for a little time each year bc non of us has a job (we are both university graduates and are teachers), their roof rains down and floods their house, the food sold in the poorer area is in bad state and in their house quickly grows black mold and we have to eat it. Also has to take care of an abusive old mother that is poisoning him with black mold (that already gives them health problems like allergy, migraine and gut issues, and the father has already died), the neighbours are violent, and I make that the bills are bigger and more.

My couple fears that we end up in the streets, homeless. I fear that they died or that when the dictatorship is installed once again here the neighbours are gonna snitch on us just bc we belive in democracy and my couple is a teacher. Already members of a cult showed up 2 days ago only in this house. In the last big dictatorship people were taken from their houses and jobs (specially students, univeritaries, teachers and culture workers, for example) and some never returned. Others were tortured so much that they died or ended up disabled and traumatized for life.

If u want to help me to fix things, buy food, meds, pay the bills, and being warm this winter please check

my PayPal or MACH

and make a donation, even $1 helps. If u can't donate, please reblog bc thats the only way to make this post circulate thus receiving help.

I don't even want to be in my country bc we will have a dictatorship soon, but I have nowhere else to go nor money to migrate. I need $10.537 dollars or € 9.760,95 euros aprox to pay all the documents, the bank money I have to prove I deserve to migrate, the tickets, rent money I have to show, and all that. I have been really thinking in live somewhere else, but no money and countries are having even more restrictions to countries like mine and people like us than before.  Also the anti migration and other hate groups and gangs. There is a safe place?

I currently (date 22 Feb 2025) have $80 dollars donated (coz I spent some in food, a covid test, meds, and a bedwarmer). You can check the old post here and see a Meet the blogger here.

I thought that it was necessary to make an actualization and a using comprehensible single post, so that's why I made this.

Edit: Three pinochetist agents and a direct nazi descendant (both 3 belive in the nazi values) are running for president in the next presidential election this 2026 and one of them is gonna win. Please, we need to migrate so help me to not die with my couple. This is no longer asking money to eat, this now is to not be tortured and disappeared. I have less than a year to find a country to migrate and leave. We can speak and read english even if not perfectly. If you know a country that allow political refugees and put less trouble to migrants, please comment.

Edit 2: the ppl with which I live are trying to involving me in their crimes so please help me to leave faster.

Edit 3: my mother in law I think is gonna make us end up on the streets or lie about us bc we are not letting her be abusive this week and I fear she try to frame us as abusers just bc she is emotionally abusive and can't deal with the fact that we say No and we told her she has to give basic human respect. I think she is lying to extended family as always and put herself as victim and try to damage us more, specially against my couple bc she has always treat them bad. This hell never ends

Help is welcomed, I am still here trying hard, I don't want to die.

[toronto-tree-removal]

Expert Tree Removal Services in Toronto: Why It Matters for Safety & Aesthetics

Introduction: The Importance of Professional Tree Removal

Trees are an essential part of Toronto’s urban landscape, offering shade, beauty, and environmental benefits. However, there are times when tree removal becomes a necessity due to safety hazards, disease, or urban development needs. At Toronto Tree Removal, we specialize in safe, professional, and efficient tree removal services across various neighborhoods, including The Annex, The Beaches, Liberty Village, and more.

In this post, we’ll discuss when tree removal is necessary, the process involved, and how to choose the best tree removal service in Toronto.

When Should You Consider Tree Removal?

Not all trees need to be removed, but some situations demand professional intervention. Here are common reasons why property owners in Toronto might need tree removal services:

Dead or Dying Trees: If a tree is diseased, decaying, or completely dead, it poses a significant risk of falling and causing damage.

Storm Damage: Severe weather, including strong winds and ice storms, can weaken trees, making them unstable.

Structural Damage Risk: If tree roots are damaging underground pipes, sidewalks, or your home’s foundation, removal may be the best solution.

Obstructing Construction or Landscaping Projects: Sometimes, trees need to be cleared for new buildings, driveways, or other landscaping projects.

Invasive Species & Infestations: Trees affected by pests like the emerald ash borer may need to be removed to prevent the spread to healthy trees.

If you’re unsure whether a tree should be removed, our team at Toronto Tree Removal can provide an assessment.

The Tree Removal Process: What to Expect

At Toronto Tree Removal, we follow a structured and safe approach to tree removal:

1. Site Inspection & Assessment

Our ISA-certified arborists first assess the tree's condition, size, and location to determine the safest removal method.

2. Obtaining Necessary Permits

In Toronto, tree removal regulations require permits for trees over 30 cm in diameter on private property. We assist clients with the application process, ensuring compliance with city regulations.

3. Safe & Efficient Tree Removal

Using specialized equipment such as ropes, harnesses, and cranes, we carefully cut and remove the tree in sections, minimizing damage to surrounding property.

4. Stump Grinding & Cleanup

Once the tree is removed, we offer stump grinding services to eliminate the remaining base, leaving a clean and usable space.

5. Eco-Friendly Disposal & Recycling

We ensure that all removed trees are properly disposed of or repurposed, such as being turned into mulch or firewood.

Why Choose Toronto Tree Removal?

Choosing the right tree removal company is essential for safety, efficiency, and legal compliance. Here’s why Toronto Tree Removal is a trusted choice:

✅ Fully Licensed & Insured: We are WSIB-covered and adhere to all safety regulations to protect our workers and your property. ✅ Certified Arborists: Our team includes ISA-certified arborists who bring expertise and precision to every job. ✅ Fast & Reliable Service: Available 7 days a week from 7 AM to 10 PM, we offer emergency tree removal services when needed. ✅ Competitive Pricing & Free Estimates: We provide affordable tree removal services with upfront pricing and no hidden fees.

For professional tree removal in areas like Rosedale, East York, and Forest Hill, contact us today!

Conclusion: Protect Your Property with Expert Tree Removal

Tree removal isn’t just about cutting down trees—it’s about protecting your home, enhancing your landscape, and ensuring safety. At Toronto Tree Removal, we offer professional, safe, and efficient tree removal services across Toronto.

📞 Call Us Today: 647-558-1366 📍 Address: 2 Forest Laneway #304, Toronto, ON M2N 5X7 📧 Email: info@torontotreeremoval.ninja 🌍 Website: https://www.torontotreeremoval.ninja

Citations:

Toronto Tree Removal Services

Tree Bylaws & Removal Permits – City of Toronto

ISA Certified Arborists – Why Certification Matters

[love-note-musings]

˙✧˖°📷 ⋆｡˚꩜ toby x reader // creepypasta oneshot

request: HelloI May i request a oneshot where toby pins the reader against a wall and maybe threatens her but she lowkey can't focus BC she's thinking how pretty he is? The reader has a love hate relationship with him. Sorry if it's confusing.

word count: 3.6k

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────

     As the last costumer of the day left, your shoulders dropped as the tension ebbed out of your body, dropping the “customer service smile” you had plastered on for the last couple of hours. A lengthy sigh left your mouth and you shook out the tired feeling from your muscles and with a swift lock of the doors, you began your nightly routine of cleaning for close. 

      Working the night shift wasn’t so bad, you had thought, it was generally pretty uninteresting, living in a small town and all, the clientele were the same, jobs were casual, it wasn’t that horrible. Having worked at this quaint restaurant for a couple of years, you knew the ins-and-outs pretty well and you operated most of the tasks you needed to on autopilot. However, the job was one thing, and daily living was another. Of course the pay was less than what you needed to live on realistically, what with housing, insurance, and feeding yourself. You still didn’t mind the nightshift, you found it rather relaxing.

    Wiping down tables, sweeping floors and mopping, cleaning out cappuccino machines, all of it went by as fewer cars passed on the road. You could hear the breeze start of as a small gust here and there until it picked up into a violent wind that rattled the building. Soon, you figured it would begin storming, with big raindrops pelting down and you surely wanted to be in your own home underneath thick blankets before then. 

     Unlocking the back entrance, you began dragging the heavy trash-bags out in the back of the parking lot, the last thing you’d need to complete before heading home for the day. You could feel how the cold nipped at your skin and willed your legs to go faster. 

     The city was always quiet, it was still except for the symphonies trees played nearby in the forest, clanging against each other from the wind. There were stories of course, about people going in and never coming back, but there were lots of people who did come back, more so than the latter, so the locals knew it as folktales. In reality, it was just another ordinary small town, with small-towned people, small-towned restaurants, and small-towned ideas. Forest or not, it was also another small-town ideal.

     Swinging the bag into the bin, you closed it with a sharp bang just as the back door to the restaurant flew with a clang. The weather was worsening overhead with dark clouds hiding the moon and the wind was threatening to take you away with it. Your feet carried you back inside as fast as they could, one pounding after another. //

//     He crashed into the back door with a thud as his legs gave out, one arm trying to hoist himself up and another trying to stop his wound from exuding any more blood. It wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle, but the exhaustion was creeping up his body, the lights had looked like crystallized diamonds hanging off of his eyelids, and he stumbled into them with reckless abandon before collapsing on tiled floor… somewhere. Vision swimming, legs crumpled underneath him, he sat there, body trembling and nauseated, trying to grasp onto his abdomen in an attempt to convince his body to let him back up, to keep moving. It wasn’t even that bad of a wound despite its length, it wasn’t anything he couldn’t  work with, but there he was, slipping on himself in the back of some beat-up building. The lights slightly flickered every few seconds, the buzzing of electrical appliances seemingly rang through his ears in tenfold, there was nothing in his stomach but his body forced him to empty it anyway, spilling out nothing onto the black and white tiles besides the gagging noises coming from him. He couldn’t stop the movement from racking his body once again as he dragged himself forward. 

     There was a scream, a crash maybe, all he saw was a figure with their arms raised high, ready to pounce on him, everything else was foggy besides the lights. Big, bright lights. Groggily, he looked up with lidded eyes, mouth slightly agape, nostrils flaring, trying to allow more oxygen into his lungs. He yelled at his brain to move faster and to process the situation, finding nothing once again but some static sound that filled it. Their mouth moved, and the sound flowed back into his ears, slowly, and then all at once.

     “I said—“ they cleared their throat “do you need me to call the authorities?” There was an umbrella raised threateningly in their hands, knuckles already turned white. It looked like their breath was caught in their throat and their body shaked. He slowly registered the information piece-by-piece, stringing together some semblance of thought. 

     Slowly, he forced his head to move side to side, shaking ‘no’. 

     “Are you hurt?” They asked authoritatively, despite the tremble in their knees.

      Again, another rather slow nod, another no. Hurt was subjective, after all. 

     Sighing, they lowered the umbrella just a little more to their side. “What do you need? Are you in trouble?”

     He ended up coughing violently, his head was spinning and he was mentally whacked. “b.. bath- can I use your b..athroom.”

     They stood off to the side and pointed towards it, watching his movements as he tried to force himself to stand upright. He managed to get up to his knees before crashing over again. 

     “I’m going to help move you there, okay?” they said as they set the umbrella down against the wall and moved closer towards him. He nodded once and they hooked an arm underneath his and guided him to the bathroom. 

     They turned on the light inside, indicated him to ‘be careful’ and that ‘there was a first aid kit under the sink’, before leaving him alone with a soft close of the door. 

     Toby gazed at himself in the mirror, bracing his weight against the sink before shakily turning the knob and splashing himself with cool water. How many days had it been since he had first left? He couldn’t even recall how long he’d been out, but it was long enough for his body to put the brake lights on his activities and start naming demands. And one of the demands was water. He earnestly started to drink the water from the faucet, cupping his hand and bringing it up to his lips over and over again.//

//     Meanwhile, an exasperated worker decided to flick back on the lights to the dining room and begin preparing a small meal to share with the guy who just stumbled into their restaurant. They didn’t really know what his deal was, nor did they care to know, they just wanted to give him something to eat before sending him back out into the storm. If he wouldn’t talk then maybe he’d eat and be able to go back home or something like that. Whatever the case was, it wasn’t your responsibility to know, but you’d also be damned for not trying to help him out just a little bit. 

     It took awhile, but the bathroom door finally clicked open and close again. Toby stumbled along the hallway and followed the light into the dining room. There were bandages wrapped around his abdomen and minor scratches on his legs and arms. His body was exhausted and his mind was more or less alert. 

     “Hey,” when you saw him feebly inch his way, you quickly went over and offered a hand, to which he shaked it off. Regardless, you told him where he could sit in the dining room,  a little booth by the kitchen door, and watched to make sure he settled himself well. You made a note of how determined he was despite his body practically shutting down, and he hadn’t tried to stop himself yet. Even as he fell into the booth, you watched as his body relaxed and his eyes stayed vigilant, always looking this way and that, carefully observing. It was fascinating. But again, it wasn’t your business. 

     You placed a plate in front of him with leftover food from the fridge and a pastry you had been saving to take home. “You have a drink preference? I can get you water.” He shook his head and you got him a glass of water anyway, of which he eyed a bit oddly, sipping little by little. When he saw the food, however, you noticed that he immediately went for the pastry.

     He was…strange, at the very least, that’s what you gathered as you watched him from the kitchen picking at his food and glancing around every couple minutes to double and triple check his surroundings. If you had to admit to yourself, you just wanted to go home, and by now it was raining, evident by the sound of raindrops pattering onto the rooftop. You were tired too, having worked all day, cleaning up and waiting on people, and now doing it all over again for a second time. Thankfully tomorrow you’d have a day off. 

     When he drank all of the water in the glass, you went over to refill it. “My name’s Y/n, what’s yours?” You asked with as much normalcy as possible, hand settling on your waist as you stepped back to watch his expression. 

     “Toby.” He muttered, before eating more and ignoring you. 

     “It’s nice to meet you, Toby.” 

     Sometime while you were re-cleaning the kitchen, you heard the bells on the door open with a clamor and close. Shrugging, you supposed he would have left, and you didn’t expect anything more from him. But now that you were thinking about it, it was kind of weird for someone to stumble in from the back of the building, but lots of things happened out in the forest. People go out with their friends, some people like hunting deer, who knows? Some kid could have just gotten mixed up with the wrong people and left out there. You don’t consider it much, but you sealed it away in the back of your mind as a little note for later as you left the restaurant and headed home. Personally, you had never experienced anything bad out there. //

//    It became more common for ‘Toby’ to show up after closing hours. Every few days or so, he’d show up looking tired and miserable, he’d ask to use your bathroom and then lug himself out to the dining room while you gave him the leftovers. You didn’t push him to talk about himself and settled for short conversations about the weather, or asking if he needed you to call anyone this week. Whenever you asked if he needed anything, he’d say no and continue eating solemnly, playing with his food and acting almost disinterested with it. 

     “What’s your favorite food?” You asked while chewing a piece of bread from the pantry. 

     Toby shrugged, “I don’t really have one.” 

     “There has to be something that you like at least? Can’t you think of something? I can try to make sure we keep some of it here.”

     He pondered for a moment, putting his fork down. You never questioned his sudden movements or verbal outbursts at all, figuring it’d be best not to pester him with questions since he obviously couldn’t control it, other people probably bothered him enough. Toby answered you quietly, “I liked that pastry you first gave me, I..I don’t remember when that was.”

     “Hmm.. okay. I can get it for you next time.”

     And the next time you did, and the time after that, until you were sure that he was sick of it every time you served it to him. But he never said anything and accepted it without a word.

    Perhaps you could say that the two of you had come to a mutual understanding, maybe a friendship, and you wouldn’t admit it to yourself that you looked forward to your short and awkward meetings. You didn’t know much about each other, but you felt comfortable despite his out-of-the-normal appearance and habits. It was non-judge mental, as far as anyone else was concerned, nothing happened here after-hours anyway.

     You found yourself tracing his facial features in your mind, promising them to memory and making mock-paintings in your mind. He had pretty eyelashes, his skin was pale and light, he had deep scarring on the side of his mouth, that’s why you assumed he wore the mask in public, you couldn’t be sure though, and you could be less sure about the googles attached to his jeans. The only thing is that you’d wish he’d eat more since it was obvious his health wasn’t the greatest. Whenever you saw him, he was almost always exhausted and almost ready to pass out. Although, besides the first time you met, you didn’t see him with any more wounds, so you supposed it was just some off-handed accident and nothing intentional. 

     Yeah, you politely admitted to yourself that you were quite fond of your new and odd friend. Perhaps attracted, whatever attraction meant. You found him nice to be around. And maybe, just maybe, you wanted him to feel the same. It had been a long time since you’ve had a proper friend. . . 

     Rock songs played from the radio atop the refrigerator, melodies soft and sweet, they played from collections of the classics and you loved it. During your shifts you’d lose yourself in the tune, pretending that you existed inside music videos and getting lost in a world where the waiters and waitresses were the main characters. You had asked Toby a while ago if he liked the station you left the radio on, hoping it was to his tastes. He had replied affirmatively, and you had kept the radio on that station every time he visited. 

     “Come on, get up.” you instructed, coming around the bar and onto the dining room floor. 

     “What?” He asked, nonetheless getting up from the barstool and following you along. 

     “You like this song, I like this song, let’s dance.”

     “But I don’t know how—“ Toby insisted as you took his hands anyway.

     You scoffed with a fool’s smile, “Neither do I.”

     At first you dragged him along around the dining room floor, navigating between the tables and chairs, tapping to the beat. He was awkward and didn’t know how to move his legs, flinging this way and that, but eventually he fell into your pattern and moved along. You both laughed, rocking your bodies to the beat hand in hand. Swaying left and right and once or twice trying spin each other. At one point, Toby almost toppled over into a couple of chairs, but you grabbed on tight to his hands and didn’t let go. A silly little smile spread across your faces and the two of you turned giggly as a new song started playing and the dance continued. 

     It was true—the two of you really didn’t know how to dance, and if anyone were to look into the windows they’d see two people who were wildly uncoordinated. You felt like you owned the world and that your body was perfectly aligned to the songs, you saw Toby and how he finally looked relaxed, mouthing along to the lyrics and shaking his arms around freely with his eyes closed. When you started screaming out the lyrics yourself, belting out notes pitches too high or low, he didn’t hesitate in joining you, resulting in one grand cacophonous harmony. 

     When Toby left later that night, it hit him in the face. Realization, fear, all of those types of things that crept up his back and settled into the crock of his neck before lodging itself into thought. That feeling, it settled inside of him and wouldn’t leave, it overwhelmed him and gnawed away at his stomach lining. Toby was never still, and it was more apparent now as the anxiety rose up his cheeks. He gulped, drank from the water bottle you had given him, slipped his hatchets into his belt loops and disappeared back into the forest. He always left his hatchets hidden behind your restaurant whenever he visited you. Just so you’d never see them with all the dents and stains that’d scare you away and leave him alone again. Toby really hated being alone sometimes.

     And Toby also knew who he was. It was evident by those same stains. It haunted him. He would never be able to sleep without seeing all of the things he’s witnessed, that he’s done. While knowing who you also were, he knew that you wouldn’t need him, that you’d need to help other people that got lost at night, who just need a helping hand. He’d hope you’d be able to help a lot more people than just him. You’d need to forget him, or at least you would, eventually. //

//     The night was quieter than normal. There was no radio playing, there were no cars passing by on the road, and there was no rain or wind, clear skies all day and all night. In short, it was boring. You were propped up by your elbow as you leaned over the bar countertop, idly skimming through the contents in some magazine left here by another customer. Only one customer remained, a pleasant old man who stopped by during the weekdays to watch the news on the television here. With a yawn and a tip, he left too, and you weren’t bothered to immediately lock the door after his departure. It had been a slow day.   

    He was behind the restaurant, hunched behind some garbage cans and waiting to hear the last car pull out from the parking lot. Everything was still and he was seeing the place for the first time with orange-tinted lenses.  He shook and shivered, bones rattling, and he couldn’t stop his arms from jerking even as he held himself together tighter. The last customer was gone. Now he just had to wait for you to come outside. Rocking back and forth to calm himself, he toyed with the fraying strings on the edge of his sleeves, occupying his mind and trying to distract himself from the bloodstains forming on his shirt and pants, not to mention the uncleaned hatchets that hung by his side. It wasn’t until a rather loud clang that he was snapped out of his trance.

Shooting up from his hiding spot, he made his way over to you without even a trickle of a sound. 

     All of a sudden you were shoved back towards the building, the air was knocked out of your chest from the force and you stumbled back. Toby had one hand blocking your exit, and another raised high above your head with a hatchet threatening to crack your skull open. 

     He stared at you, questioning himself, looking at you and then the hatchet and then you - you were terrified, and trembling, and god he wanted to disappear right at that moment, to drop everything and cling onto you. And he knew it wasn’t going to happen, but still his arms wobbled and there was a hitch in his throat. One hand slowly went to his mouth to stop the whimperings from escaping and the other slowly lowered his weapon until it fell onto the pavement.

     How could he be so stupid? He caved for the niceties, any inking of kindness and he instantly folded his hand. It wasn’t the terror in your eyes that had stopped him, it was just you. The way it felt to be so close again, how his body responded by going weak, he wanted to stay like that for a long time, he wanted to stay by you for as long as you’d let him. But he couldn’t do that, could he? Trust is a delicate thing. He knew that lesson well.

     You stood there with your back pressed painfully against the wall, your heart was beating frantically against your chest, your muscles were tense, your eyes were glued on Toby as he lost his resolve and crumbled down onto the ground in a heap with his head in his hands. Sobs wracked his body up and down and he heaved. Kneeling down next to him, you grabbed the hatchet and threw it as far as you could, considering for a moment if you should comfort him or not before placing a hand tentatively on his back, rubbing circles once he responded to your touch. The goggles on his face were fogging up, and you carefully found the clasp underneath a topple of tangled brown hair, letting it fall onto the ground as you wiped the tears falling down his cheeks with your hand and slipped off his facial mask. 

     His eyes did not meet yours, leaning over and making himself seem small. He sobbed until there were no more tears left, and even then his chest just heaved wildly as he struggled to find an even breathing pace. Kneeling closer, you wrapped your arms tighter around him, embracing, whispering in a soothing voice. 

     Toby wrapped his arms around your waist, slowly at first before completely enveloping you, resting his head into your lap. You felt nice, and comfortable, safe. He hung onto you for dear life.

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ────── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──────

originally posted on quotev/citrusyfruits, reposted with permission

[lilmissbacon]

Rotg world building — Thoughts and theories

This was originally just going to be a reblog to THIS post but then I ended up going down a rabbit hole of my thoughts and opinions, so it became too annoyingly long for peoples/my preference.

Most of the post really expresses how I've always viewed the world of spirits in Rotg. The only thoughts I'm not really a fan of is the idea of some spirits not having physical forms and just being like big storms. Because what's the point of humanoid spirits being invisible to humans if they have no physical forms to other spirits as well?

I never saw Jack talking to the wind as the wind being an active spirit, I saw it as him just being so lonely he'd pretend the wind was alive to not feel so alone. After all, he only addressed the wind 1 time, if it were an actual being I feel like it'd be addressed more than once. Especially when Jack needed to get out of Antarctica: why would he need to fix his staff to fly out if the wind could've just picked him up unless he was the one making the wind? And like the post linked above said, the comics are unofficial. They're cool and I love them but they're not canon.

I do love the idea of their being 2 generations of spirits. Pre-MiM and post-MiM where the legends of Gods and myths are tales of the original spirits mistaken for higher deities and distorted over time. After all MiM wasn't always there (at least in the books) so how were their seasons/seasonal spirits on earth before him unless they were just natural to earth?

Plus it's made apparent through Sandy's death in Rotg that spirits are not 100% immortal, just non-aging. I think there is an open window for spirits to come back like Sandy did, if an influx of enough people believe, Tinkerbell style. But after maybe a year or so, that window is closed, that spirit is full on dead and that spirit needs to be replaced to keep the world in balance. So there could've been hundreds of spirits that have been lost but then replaced by MiM. I also think only magic can kill spirits, since Jack managed to fall from like 300+ feet in the final battle and walk it off without so much as a limp. Like, it still hurt, he clearly felt the pain, but he could still run, jump, throw hands and everything. He only groaned like he tripped down a small set of stairs.

Guardians are the only ones who could die without belief due to the vow they take. I feel like that vow tying their lives to belief could've actively been like an insurance policy to insure that the Guardians stay true and keep doing their jobs to fulfill childhood. It may be controlling and borderline manipulative for MiM to make them do that but I'm sure we're all in agreement that he is pretty gray as a character in the movie when you really think about it. And I could even see where he's coming from with this idea. After all, who knows how many spirits he may have made thinking they were good people, only for them to go dark and become evil. I'm sure MiM would hold a lot of guilt whenever those bad spirits hurt others or even feel at fault for making these decent people, eventual villains. Besides the Guardians know they could die if they lose belief when they make the vow, so it's not like MiM tricked them, that's consented. The Guardians just forgot to tell Jack that.

Now, I always saw "Spirit Society" as all spirits know of each other and word always gets around when new ones are made. I don't think there's a hidden city or village (other than maybe Santoff Clausen if it's even still around. And only for some of them, it wouldn't be big enough for all spirits in my mind) but rather they make homes for themselves and just cross paths with each other all the time. Kinda like the countryside; everyone's homes are far apart, but you still see each other in stores or at work.

I'm not quite sure how the news and knowledge would spread between spirits so often unless they were either all huge gossips or had yearly meets or something. But you know what, I'd be willing to bet that there are a few "messenger" spirits similar to Hermes in Greek myth, that just fly everywhere, spreading word for other spirits to make sure everyone is in the loop.

In my mind, Bunny's aggression early in the movie was meant to kinda show how most spirits saw Jack. After all, he's the only one who didn't feel like he'd be super recluse due to his job as he's the only one who doesn't work all year-round.

Unless he's a complete hermit, what is he doing for the rest of the year other than going out and hanging with other spirits?

I think most spirits hate Jack for being a troublemaking spirit that honed the deadliest season. That could just be my angst fanfic brain making things up but why else would Jack be so desperate to look towards humans to connect with unless he has tried with other spirits who could see him and was only met with backlash?

'Cause I have seen a few people complain that the ending of the movie contradicted Jack's arc of wanting to be seen only to leave the few believers he'd finally made. But that was never the point. He has what I like to call a fake-out arc; where it's said he wants one thing but his actual goal is different. He asks why he can't be seen, he tries his best to get people to believe in him, but he's doing it in an effort to find a family.

He mentions how no one can see him but he's more devastated over why he was left alone. That's his main question in this scene. He doesn't outwardly ask why he's alone specifically, but asking MiM "why" just after he was looking so longingly at Jamie's family is clearly meant to insinuate that that is what he really wants. He may even be telling himself it's just to be seen because he's been alone for so long that he just wants the bare fucking minimum. That's why the end of Rotg is still satisfying despite leaving his new believers, because being seen was never truly the end goal, it was finding a family and he finally found that in the other Guardians.

He clearly believed that he couldn't be accepted by other spirits, so he looked to humans to find that connection and getting to be seen by them was just a first step towards that goal.

It's the same thing in Tangled (because I have encountered someone who thought Rapunzel was one-dimensional for just wanting to see lights 😮‍💨) Rapunzel sang and always told Gothel + Eugene that she just wanted to see the floating lights, but the moment she steps out of her tower she starts singing in exhilaration about how she can finally go running, dancing, jumping and splashing. She never even mentions the lights. It had nothing to really do with the lights, she just wanted to leave her tower and explore the world. Seeing the lanterns was just her externalized and internalized excuse because she wanted to feel less awful for going against her 'mother'. Her wanting to explore the world was then more blatantly explored in Tangled the Series.

Edit: Pitch even straight up mentions about longing for a family when trying to sympathize with Jack and it's that very line that makes Jack lower is guard. Not the line about not being believed in, longing for a family. Jack even looks super sympathetic for him.

After Pitch killed Sandy, after witnessing first hand the belief fading from all the kids around the world and being framed for Easter's failure, possibly ruining Jack's relationship with the Guardians, Jack still feels bad for Pitch in this moment. That's why Jack lets Pitch say his piece in this scene despite knowing that he was never going to join him (you can tell he was never buying into Pitch's words and Jack didn't hesitate to refuse). He was even willing to try and just walk away after refusing his offer rather than keep fighting. Because he understands that desperation of wanting to be loved by just being seen and/or heard.

That's part of what makes him such a good layered character: the fact that he always used mischief in an effort to try and be seen, similar to when kids act out to get their parents attention. It leads the other spirits to think that he's nothing more than a troublemaker (and even audience as well, the amount of mis-characterization I've seen people make of Jack, istg) when in reality he's actually a very respectful, emotional, sweet and even responsible person that does know when to stop being silly. Jack never played around when actual danger came around, the only time he did was a one quip to Sandy because he was nervous and in the final battle when he realized being funny takes away Pitch's control.

And even then it was brief, after the kids started turning the sand gold again, Jack went right back into serious battle mode.

Kinda shows how not really mischievous Jack truly is when it takes him so long to realize that being fun can weaken Pitch. Because he's not really a trickster, he doesn't even really pull many pranks, he's just playful. But he had been cranking that up to 11 for the past 300 years in an effort to be seen, he inadvertently kept deterring other spirits away, who may had already not liked him just for being an ice based spirit. After all, whenever Bunny wanted to take a stab at Jack it was either at his invisibility or for his ice. Granted that could just be because Bunny himself just doesn't like the cold or even strictly because Jack made that blizzard on Easter but then again, we never got to see that for ourselves. We don't know if Jack even did that on purpose or not.

Last note; I don't think any other spirits died to become spirits like Jack did. It's my personal headcanon that the reason Jack couldn't remember his past is because he's the only one who had actively died before MiM got the chance to turn him. Though for all we know there could be a few others who also forgot their pasts. If there are, Jack clearly never got the chance to ask.

The way this kinda diverged into a mini Jack Frost character analysis though 😅

[urialnathanonwright]

Trump's 'Energy Emergency' Is a Fraud: A Disaster for the Planet, the Economy, and Basic Common Sense

Let us be clear: this is not leadership—it is lunacy. Donald Trump’s declaration of a so-called “national energy emergency” is not only a fabrication; it is a malevolent act of self-serving deceit that endangers the lives of every American, the stability of our economy, and the future of our planet.

An energy emergency? Let’s cut the nonsense. The United States is not only energy self-sufficient but also the largest producer of oil and natural gas in the world. If there’s any emergency here, it’s that this administration is using the pretense of crisis to gut critical protections, kneecap clean energy innovation, and strap future generations to the ticking time bomb of climate disaster.

The facts couldn’t be clearer: Earth’s temperature is already 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels. Entire ecosystems are collapsing. Hurricanes are leveling communities. Wildfires are burning cities to the ground. And while real scientists, experts, and economists are shouting from the rooftops that we need to act now to save both lives and money, Trump is on a mission to turbocharge the very policies that got us here in the first place.

This isn’t policy—it’s profiteering. Trump is playing lapdog to fossil fuel executives, feeding their bottomless appetite for profit while throwing the rest of us to the wolves. Forget clean energy. Forget protecting Arctic lands or coastal waters. Forget transitioning to wind, solar, or anything remotely resembling a sustainable future. No, Trump’s priority is doubling down on outdated, polluting, and economically reckless fossil fuel expansion.

And what’s his justification? Rising energy costs? Gas prices at the end of 2023 were cheaper than when he left office in his first term. This is a con, pure and simple. He’s hoping you won’t notice the wildfires that cost $200 billion, the hurricanes that obliterate entire towns, and the droughts driving up food prices. These aren’t flukes; they’re the direct consequences of ignoring climate science.

Even his own supporters, the ones who chant his name at rallies, are getting burned—literally and figuratively. These policies won’t lower costs for them. They’ll increase insurance premiums, devastate supply chains, and raise prices across the board. Trump’s so-called “energy emergency” is a Trojan horse designed to dismantle the progress we’ve made toward clean energy and drag us back to the dark ages of environmental neglect.

The gall of it all! This man is looking climate disaster in the face and saying, “Bring it on.” He’s actively choosing to make the planet hotter, the storms stronger, and the economic damage more severe—all while mocking the very idea of accountability.

We have a choice to make, and it’s not just between Trump’s twisted vision and Biden’s policies. It’s between hope and despair. Between a livable future and one where our children ask, “Why didn’t you stop this when you had the chance?”

This isn’t just policy failure; it’s moral bankruptcy. It’s a betrayal of humanity itself. And if there’s any justice left in this world, history will remember Trump’s “energy emergency” for what it truly is: a con, a farce, and an unforgivable crime against the Earth.

[rjzimmerman]

Excerpt from this story from the New York Times:

At first glance, Dave Langston’s predicament seems similar to headaches facing homeowners in coastal states vulnerable to catastrophic hurricanes: As disasters have become more frequent and severe, his insurance company has been losing money. Then, it canceled his coverage and left the state.

But Mr. Langston lives in Iowa.

Relatively consistent weather once made Iowa a good bet for insurance companies. But now, as a warming planet makes events like hail and wind storms worse, insurers are fleeing.

Mr. Langston spent months trying to find another company to insure the townhouses, on a quiet cul-de-sac at the edge of Cedar Rapids, that belong to members of his homeowners association. Without coverage, “if we were to have damage that hit all 17 units, we’re looking at bankruptcy for all of us,” he said.

The insurance turmoil caused by climate change — which had been concentrated in Florida, California and Louisiana — is fast becoming a contagion, spreading to states like Iowa, Arkansas, Ohio, Utah and Washington. Even in the Northeast, where homeowners insurance was still generally profitable last year, the trends are worsening.

In 2023, insurers lost money on homeowners coverage in 18 states, more than a third of the country, according to a New York Times analysis of newly available financial data. That’s up from 12 states five years ago, and eight states in 2013. The result is that insurance companies are raising premiums by as much as 50 percent or more, cutting back on coverage or leaving entire states altogether. Nationally, over the last decade, insurers paid out more in claims than they received in premiums, according to the ratings firm Moody’s, and those losses are increasing.

The growing tumult is affecting people whose homes have never been damaged and who have dutifully paid their premiums, year after year. Cancellation notices have left them scrambling to find coverage to protect what is often their single biggest investment. As a last resort, many are ending up in high-risk insurance pools created by states that are backed by the public and offer less coverage than standard policies. By and large, state regulators lack strategies to restore stability to the market.

Insurers are still turning a profit from other lines of business, like commercial and life insurance policies. But many are dropping homeowners coverage because of losses.

Tracking the shifting insurance market is complicated by the fact it is not regulated by the federal government; attempts by the Treasury Department to simply gather data have been rebuffed by some state regulators. 

The turmoil in insurance markets is a flashing red light for an American economy that is built on real property. Without insurance, banks won’t issue a mortgage; without a mortgage, most people can’t buy a home. With fewer buyers, real estate values are likely to decline, along with property tax revenues, leaving communities with less money for schools, police and other basic services.

And without sufficient insurance, people struggle to rebuild after disasters. Last year, storms, wildfires and other disasters pushed 2.5 million American adults out of their homes, according to census data, including at least 830,000 people who were displaced for six months or longer.

[bamboozledbird]

the children. they yearn for you and your stories. i hope you're doing well and just know that you are so very missed and appreciated here 💙💙💙💙

thank you so much :') i'm still searching for another job and more importantly good heath insurance rip, so sweet messages like this really help lower the cortisol levels lmao.

i haven't had a lot of time or energy to write, but here is a little snippet of something i'm working on to hopefully quench the yearning. it is not edited or finished obviously.

It’s an icy slice of fear that wakes you up. A white flash of ‘fight or flight’ behind your sleep-sticky lids. A rattling at your window that isn’t the rain or the wind echoing in the moonlight. It’s a familiar sound, someone scrambling on the loose tiling of your roof, but a forgotten one. It’s strange, sweet-sharp, and out of place in your current reality. 

A noise that shouldn’t exist outside of a memory. 

Stiles spills into your room and lands on his knees, dripping water onto your hardwood floor. His hair is plastered to his forehead from the angry squall outside, and the dark clouds are a mocking reflection of the look carving out the hollows of his face. The moon has eclipsed all the sunlight in his eyes, and it feels so, so cold.

For a moment, you think you’re dreaming or maybe still in that luminescent oil slick between sleep and consciousness. Stiles looks like something from a dream—a nightmare. He’s there, but he isn’t. He’s a boy, but he isn’t. He’s lost to something you can’t see, swept up in the storm and turned into something else.

You sit up in your bed and wait for him to say something—to move. He just stays there, soaked to the bone on his knees, and stares at something beyond the shifting shadows on your bedroom walls. 

“Stiles?” 

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t even make a sound. You crawl out of your bed and sit down on the floor next to him, draping a woven blanket over his shoulders. It almost matches his flannel, blue and checkered. It’s a little detail that would’ve made you smile before, mostly because Stiles would get this warm look in his eyes: so fond it felt like worship. 

It’s fall. The air smells like apples and earth. You watch the shadow of little fish swim in jagged circles through murky water. Stiles is a warm presence against your side. 

He buries his nose in your hair and hums, “You like the pieces.” 

“I guess.”

You feel his smile against your temple.

“Me too.”

You still wake up with the taste of him sticking to your teeth, sweet honey and sharp cloves, but it’s hardly enough. Does he ache for who you were that Friday? Does he still love that girl in his arms–orange and warm under the setting sun, blissfully unaware of the end. 

What does Stiles think when he looks at you now? Does he think about you at all? 

You spent so long thinking you weren’t supposed to be friends, and now you don’t know what you’re to be. How can you belong to a memory?

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

Necessary Evil

MDNI!!

A/N: Testing my sanity by writing a multi-chapter fic!!! I'm not sure how long this will be or what my update schedule is yet, so stay tuned. This is gonna start out pretty fucking bleak, but just hang in there folks! I am cross-posting this on my AO3 as well. Beta read by my bestie, @teaflavoredwitch! Bucky Barnes x female reader, Bucky's POV, established relationship, marriage, meet-cute, car accident, traumatic brain injury, hospitals, angst, hurt & eventual comfort.

Word count: 3.8k

Chapter One: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

It was raining when Bucky met you, one of those warm, sticky summertime storms. Air thick and cloying, full of something akin to static electricity, lightning and thunder rattling window panes. He preferred not to run errands during weather like this, it was far too dangerous to hop on his motorcycle, but he didn’t have much of a say in the matter. Alpine had run out of kibble and the pet store was right down the road, so he cautiously rode down the slick asphalt. He arrived without an issue, grabbed her food and a new little feather wand he knew she’d adore. What he found when he returned to the parking lot was you, in tears next to his bike. You had accidentally sheared off the side mirror on the left side of his motorcycle, babbling a million watery, hiccupping apologies. Usually, Bucky would’ve been pissed, that bike was his baby. But there was something about your wide doey eyes, fat tears rolling down flushed cheeks and mixing with rain drops. In that moment, something shifted within him. The anger that had once consumed his every waking thought began to dissipate, replaced by a curious fascination with the woman before him. He listened as you stammered out an apology, watched as you rummaged through your purse for a pen to write down your insurance information, and felt a strange sense of acceptance wash over him.

He told you it was fine (which it wasn’t), and that accidents happen (they don’t, he has no clue how you managed to pull this off when there was at least three feet between your car and his parked cycle.) He tried his best to soothe your hysterics, but he’d never been good with emotions or crying women. He helped you into your car, waved goodbye, hopped on his bike, and thought nothing of it for a few weeks. But, he runs into you again, this time at the grocery store. You’re perusing the canned tuna and he has a ten minute internal debate over the merits of approaching you. If Steve were here, he’d give Bucky hell over this, asking what happened to the suave Sergeant from Brooklyn that he used to know so well. With a deep breath and shaky hands, Bucky walks to your side slowly, as if approaching a wild animal. 

And when you look up, a surprised but nonetheless delighted smile on your lips, his heart does this little fucking flip. He can’t help the goofy, shy grin that spreads across his face to match yours. So, your first date winds up being impromptu grocery shopping and though it’s unintentional and a complete coincidence, Bucky had the time of his life. He’d never felt so normal. It felt like his old charming self was coming back to life, bursting forth past the iciness of the Winter Soldier. He joked and laughed and flirted shamelessly. Side by side as you grabbed your weekly essentials. It was a mundane thing, really, but somehow, it had felt significant, like the first step towards something beautiful. You had laughed together as you playfully eyed the produce section, holding up a wrinkled coupon booklet to utilize the deals of the week. It was a laugh that had stayed with Bucky, a sound that he had grown to love and cherish. He found himself falling for you as you looked at a display of marshmallow cereal, the slope of your nose, the softness of your cheeks, the delicate arch of your eyebrows. He finally understood what Steve always said about finding the right partner.

Bucky's heart swelled with warmth as he reminisced about your early days together, the days when he knew, without a doubt, that he was falling deeply and irrevocably in love with you. The memories played out his mind like a film reel, each moment seared into his mind with perfect clarity.

One particularly special occasion stood out among the rest - the day you had driven up to Coney Island, the sprawling coast stretching out before you as far as the eye could see. The sun had been shining brightly that day, a stark contrast to the stormy weather of your fateful meeting. Bucky had packed a picnic basket, complete with all of your favorite foods, spicy pickles, ham sandwiches, strawberries.

He remembered spreading out the red and white checkered blanket on the sandy shore, the salty breeze whipping through your hair as you sat side by side, fingers intertwined. You had talked for hours that day, the conversation flowing effortlessly as you shared your hopes, your dreams, and your fears. Bucky had felt a sense of ease wash over him, a feeling of belonging that he had never experienced before in his tumultuous life. You were beautiful, unfairly so, and he had absolutely no clue what you saw in him. But he knew better than to question a good thing, and Bucky had this constant sinking pit in his stomach. Waiting for the other shoe to drop, the rug to be yanked out from under his feet. He felt undeserving after the atrocities he’d committed under HYDRA’s thumb, sure he was brainwashed but it was him. He remembered every moment, every face, every scream of terror. And he told you, the confession tumbling from his lips clumsily. He didn’t want to frighten you, he was already so frightened himself. You didn’t even bat an eye, you kissed away his tears and held him. You accepted him, embraced him.

As the day turned to dusk, the sun dipping below the horizon in a breathtaking display of oranges and pinks, Bucky had turned to you, his heart pounding in his chest. He had known, in that perfect moment, that he was falling in love with you. More than that, he had known that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, to build a future together filled with countless more picnics, countless more conversations, and countless more moments of pure, unadulterated happiness. From that day forward, Bucky had made it his mission to sweep you off your feet, to show you the depths of his love and devotion through grand gestures and thoughtful surprises. He had taken you on dates every weekend, eager to create a lifetime of memories together.

Bucky's mind drifted back to the unforgettable Christmas Eve, the night that had changed the course of your lives forever. As he sat there, lost in thought, he could still feel the same nervous energy coursing through his veins, the same all-consuming anticipation that had left him on the brink of a panic attack. He remembered how, after months of searching for the perfect ring, he had finally found it - a stunning diamond solitaire that had caught his eye the moment he laid eyes on it. It was a ring that he knew would be a perfect symbol of his undying love and devotion to you, a testament to the bond you had forged over the two years you had spent together.

Bucky had spent weeks planning the perfect proposal, determined to create a moment that you would never forget. He had enlisted the help of your friends and family, a team of secret keepers who had worked tirelessly to ensure that every detail was perfect. And as the big night approached, Bucky found himself growing more and more anxious, a ball of nerves and anticipation lodged deep in his throat. And as Bucky knelt before you, the small velvet box trembling in his hands, he had known that he was ready to take the next step, to ask you to be his wife and his partner for life.

Prying open the box, Bucky revealed the glittering ring, the diamond catching the flickering light of the Christmas tree and casting a dazzling array of colors across your astonished face. He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry as he fought to find the right words - words that would breathe life into the love that had consumed his every waking thought.

Bucky remembered how his voice had wavered with emotion as he began to speak, pouring his heart out to the woman he loved more than anything in the world. He talked about the day you had met, the fateful encounter that had brought you together and set your love story in motion. He talked about the way you made him feel alive, whole, and complete - a feeling he had never known before you had entered his life and claimed his heart.

And finally, as tears streamed down his face and his heart raced with anticipation, Bucky asked the all-important question - the one that would seal your fate together for all eternity. He looked up at you, his eyes shining with unshed tears and overflowing with love, and asked you to be his wife, to promise to love and cherish him for the rest of your days. It had been the scariest moment of Bucky's life, it terrified him how deeply he had fallen in love with you. But it had also been the most rewarding, the happiest moment he could remember in his long, eventful life. And as you had said yes, tears of joy streaming down your own face, Bucky had known that he had made the right choice - that he was exactly where he was meant to be, standing hand in hand with the person he loved more than anything in the world.

The memory of your wedding day burned brightly in Bucky's mind, a perfect encapsulation of the love and commitment you shared. It had been a small, intimate affair, a gathering of your closest family and friends. Bucky recalled you walking down the aisle, a vision of radiant beauty in your flowing white sundress and a delicate flower crown in lieu of a veil. You had taken his breath away, a breathtaking sight that had brought tears to his eyes and a lump to his throat. You had always been beautiful, but on your wedding day, you had been an angel, a being of pure grace and perfection.

Sam had been there by his side, an unwavering source of support and love. As Bucky's best man, Sam had stood tall and proud, his own eyes glistening with happiness as he watched his friend take this monumental step. It meant the world to Bucky to have Sam there, a reminder that despite their initial relationship he had supported him throughout his journey. The courthouse had been a simple, understated venue - a space that spoke to your desire for an intimate, stress-free celebration of your love. The walls had been adorned with simple flowers and greenery, a nod to the beauty of the outdoors that Bucky and you both adored. And as you stood before the officiant, hands entwined and hearts pounding with anticipation, you had known that this was where you were meant to be.

The ceremony had been a blur of emotion, a flurry of tears, laughter, and heartfelt vows. Bucky had poured his love into every word, his deep, gravelly voice trembling with the weight of his feelings. He had promised to love, cherish, and support you through all of life's ups and downs, a vow that he had meant with every fiber of his being. As you had exchanged your rings, a symbol of your eternal love and devotion, Bucky had felt a sense of peace wash over him. The fear and uncertainty that had once plagued his mind had melted away, replaced by a profound sense of belonging and purpose. He knew, in that perfect moment, that he had found his home, his partner, and his soulmate in you. And as the officiant had pronounced you husband and wife, as your friends and family erupted into a chorus of cheers and applause, Bucky had known that this was just the beginning of his greatest adventure. He had swept you up into his strong arms, your wedding dress billowing out around you as he spun you around in a joyous, euphoric twirl.

Bucky’s mind shifts to the memory of your wedding night, a night of pure, unadulterated bliss and ecstasy. As he thought back to that fateful evening, a wave of love and desire coursed through his veins, just as intense and all-consuming as it had been in the heat of the moment.

Bucky had carried you over the threshold of your shared bedroom, a tradition as old as time itself. You had giggled and squealed, teasing him and calling him old-fashioned. But to him, it had been so much more than a simple gesture - it had been a promise, a commitment to a lifetime of love and intimacy. As he kicked the door closed behind you, he had taken a moment to drink in the sight of his new wife, a breathtaking vision of angelic beauty and grace.

By the flickering light of the candles that Sam had snuck in to set up, you had glowed, your skin a lovely contrast against the white linen of your sundress. Your hair, once adorned with the delicate flower crown, had fallen out into a halo around your head that begged to be run through and ruined. And your eyes, those eyes, had shone with a love so pure and true that it stole the breath from Bucky's lungs. Slowly, reverently, he had laid you down upon the bed, his hands roaming the curves of your body with a tenderness and adoration that spoke volumes of his feelings. He had taken his time undressing you, a man possessed by a single-minded purpose - to reveal and worship every inch of the skin that lay beneath. And as you had lay there, nude and glorious in the candlelight, Bucky had felt a sense of awe and wonder that he had never before experienced. It was more than just the physical beauty of his bride - it was the sheer, unadulterated love and devotion that radiated from your eyes, the way you looked at him like he was your everything, your very reason for living.

Your lovemaking had been a dance, a slow, sensual moment of pure connection and oneness. Bucky had worshiped every inch of your body with his hands and his mouth, determined to show you the depths of his desire and love. He had kissed and caressed every sensitive spot, had swirled his tongue around the hardened peaks of your nipples until you cried out in ecstasy. And as you had moved together, as Bucky had slowly, carefully pushed himself inside of his bride, he had felt a sense of completeness and belonging that he had never known before. It was as if all the pieces of his broken soul had fallen into place, as if he had finally found the missing part of himself in you. And as Bucky had gazed down at your angelic face, flushed with pleasure and shining with lo-

“Mr. Barnes?” A clinical voice pulls Bucky from his reminiscing. He shoots up, out of his chair, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans. He nods jerkily, holding out his hand to shake the doctor’s. He’s an older man, features weathered with more salt than pepper hair. His name badge reads ‘Doctor Reed, ICU’. His grip is firm, it almost comforts Bucky, almost. Clearing his throat, Bucky tries to tamper down his agitation, “You gonna tell me what’s going on, Doc?”

Dr. Reed nods solemnly, gesturing for Bucky to return to his seat. Once seated, the doctor flips through his clipboard, eyes scanning each page before returning back to meet Bucky’s. “Your wife is suffering from cerebral edema, or brain swelling. When the other vehicle made impact with your wife’s, she suffered a moderate traumatic brain injury. The injury has caused her to fall into a coma, but that may make her healing process a bit easier on her body. She also suffered an injury-related pneumothorax, a broken rib punctured her lung, hence the ventilator.”

Bucky listened intently to Dr. Reed's words, his heart pounding wildly in his chest as the gravity of the situation sank in. The joyful memories of just moments ago were replaced by an all-consuming sense of fear and desperation, a terror that threatened to swallow him whole. He gripped the arms of the chair with white knuckles, his short nails digging into the worn fabric as he fought to process the information being imparted to him. Cerebral edema, traumatic brain injury, coma, ventilator - the words were like blows to his gut, each one knocking the wind out of his lungs and stealing his breath.

Bucky knew the risks of the life he led, the dangers that came with being a soldier, a fighter. But he had never, not once, imagined that you would be the one to end up here, fighting for your life in a sterile hospital room. You were the gentle one, the compassionate one - the one who healed, not the one who fought. As Dr. Reed continued to speak, outlining the treatment plan and the long road to recovery that lay ahead, Bucky felt something inside of him shatter. It was like a dam bursting, a flood of emotion that he could no longer contain or control. Tears, hot and bitter, spilled down his cheeks, dripping onto his shirt and leaving darker spots on the fabric.

"What are her chances?" Bucky asked, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. He couldn't bring himself to look up at the doctor, could barely bring himself to hear the words that would condemn or absolve him, that would tell him whether or not he would have to face a life without the love of his life. The thought was unbearable, a weight that threatened to crush his very soul. You were everything to him, his reason for living, his partner in every sense of the word. The idea of a world without your laughter, without your gentle smile and your loving touch, was a world that he could not imagine. Bucky knew that he was a soldier, that he had been forged in the fires of battle and tempered by the horrors of war. But he also knew that he was nothing without you, a man lost and adrift without his guiding light.

Dr. Reed sets his clipboard down, clearing his throat once more, “It depends, there’s no finite prediction I can give you, Mr. Barnes. There’s many factors at play here, the severity of her injuries are nothing to sneeze at. The coma could last anywhere from a few days to a few weeks. She could very well transition into a vegetative state. We’ll need to take this one day at a time, Mr. Barnes. I’m sorry.” The doctor offers a small, sad smile.

The weight of Dr. Reed's words pressed down on Bucky like a physical force, the crushing realization of the uncertain future stretching out before him. He sat there, immobile, barely daring to breathe as the doctor's somber assessment sank in, each word a dagger to his already shattered heart. A few days to a few weeks. The timeline was vague, murky, a fog of uncertainty that blinded him to any clear path forward. All Bucky knew was the soul-deep terror that gripped him at the thought of you trapped in a comatose state, drifting in a noxious limbo between life and death. And the possibility, the horrifying specter of a vegetative existence - it was too much to bear.

Bucky's mind raced, spiraling down a rabbit hole of worst-case scenarios and the anguished cry of what-ifs. No. He couldn't go there. He couldn't allow his thoughts to wander to a future where you were nothing more than a shell, a lifeless husk devoid of the vibrant spirit that animated your body and soul. With a violent shudder, Bucky surged to his feet, oblivious to Dr. Reed's startled reaction. He lunged for the glass door, flinging it open and storming out into the gleaming hallway of the ICU. The sterile smell, the harsh glare of the fluorescent lights, the soft murmurs of the nurses and doctors - it all faded away into a blur of white noise.

He needed to see you. He needed to be near you, to touch your hand, to hold you close. He needed a reminder of the woman he loved, of the life and the spark that still burned inside of you, even if you couldn't open your eyes or squeeze his hand in return. Bucky flung open the door to your room, barreling inside and coming to an abrupt halt beside your bedside. And there you lay, his beautiful bride, his heart and his soul - a fragile figure tethered to a beeping, blinking symphony of machines and wires. Unable to stop himself, Bucky reached out, his calloused fingers trembling as he brushed a lock of hair away from your face. For a moment, he simply stood there, staring down at the woman he loved with every fiber of his being - the woman who had saved him from the darkness that had threatened to consume him, that had offered him hope and redemption and a future worth living for.

"Doll," he breathed, his voice cracking with emotion. "You can't leave me, baby. You can't give up, you hear me?" His other hand found yours, engulfing it in his larger one. He held it to his lips, pressing desperate kisses to your delicate knuckles, silently pouring every ounce of love and devotion into the touch.

"Come back to me," he begged, his forehead pressed against the bedrail now, his broad shoulders shaking with the force of his anguished sobs. "Come back to me, and I'll spend the rest of my life loving you, cherishing you, making every single day the happiest day of your life. Don't you dare leave me, doll. Not now. Not ever."

Bucky's last words were torn from his throat in an agonized cry, a desperate plea for a miracle, a sign, a reason to hope. He clung to your arm like a man drowning, like a man on the precipice of a bottomless abyss, waiting - praying - for the woman he loved to save him from tumbling into oblivion. So he sat there, in the harsh fluorescent glare of the hospital room, and he waited - waited for a miracle, waited for a sign that his beloved wife would survive this devastating blow. And in the meantime, he made a silent vow - a promise to the universe, to fate, to whatever gods might be listening. He would not give up on you. He would fight, with everything he had and everything he was, to bring you back to him. No matter how long it took, no matter what it cost him, he would be there - a constant guardian and protector, for however long it took.