#idk what i'll be like when i'm working full-time as a nurse but i'm going in w a foundation of trying to help ppl. so at least theres' that

[wraithdance]

Damn I'm still getting notifications on this so I guess I'll elaborate on it for funsies lol

Content warning: AFAB!Reader, terrible british-isms, Reader is a firefighter and idk shit about that life lol, very NY/American coded, explicit language. Shorty getting tossed around like a hot n ready in the next part I just love to set the scene a lil lmao

Part one: The Firefighter

Your mother had always told you two things: 1) not to write a check that your ass can’t cash and 2) A hard head made for a soft ass. Unfortunately for you, you never listen. 

You were on the downward slope of a 48 hour shift and feeling every bit of it. Your captain had taken no mercy on the splitting headache you were nursing and designated you to crowd control on the northern sector of the McCallen theater. The heat of the flames enveloping the old building didn’t help with the already stifling heat wave. Sweat slides down your neck in uncomfortable pools that soak the under clothes beneath your turnout gear. 

While in the middle of reassuring an elderly woman whose granddaughter was in the building you’d caught sight of a large form attempting to cross the barrier from the corner of your eye. You’d whipped your head around so fast you’d damn near given yourself whiplash.

“Hey, get back behind the line!”

Your words die in your throat when you come face to face with the fucking grim reaper. He’s broad and dressed in layers of black from head to toe. His eyes, or what you can see of them from behind the eye black, bore into you from beneath his balaclava. 

What the fuck?

There's a moment where your throat closes up and your muscles lock despite your body screaming at you to run the other way. It’s not until he seems to dismiss you and turns like he’s going to continue on his merry way, that you gain back your senses. 

“Hey I said get back behind the line are you crazy?!” You bark, grabbing the sleeve of his jumper.

Who the hell wears a sweatshirt in the middle of June?

“This is an active fire! ” 

He looks at your offending hand and makes a sound you can only describe as a snort.

“Ya’ can bloody see that.”

This motherfu-

“Good job jackass,” You say between grit teeth “I’m glad you can see the fire, funny enough you can also see it from behind. the. damn. LINE!” 

The grim reaper twitches and if it's possible he looks bigger as he turns his full body towards you. 

You’re too hopped on adrenaline to give a shit about his posturing. You’d worked with sweaty macho guys for six years at the station and had been around servicemen your whole life. There wasn’t a pissing contest around that you would ever back down from. So, you puff out your own chest and meet him head on. 

“Sir, I’m not going to ask you again, get behind the barrier.” 

“Or wot.” you think you might actually catch a murder charge.

“You get behind the line like I asked you to, big boy, or I’ll toss your ass over it myself” You hiss. The big fuck just narrows his eyes in consideration. You’re preparing to make good on your threat, when another voice cuts in.

“Riley, What's the problem here?”

Great two of them. 

The second man is not as broad as the weirdo in black, but still just as barrelled chested. He maneuvers around the barrier like it's just a concept and not a physical deterrent. You have to roll your eyes at his boonie hat and the outdated beard. He had the same fashion sense as your grandpa.

He stops beside the reaper's right side and crosses his stocky arms over his chest, his beard twitching as he takes in your stance. There's something in his blue eyes that you might call appreciation, if it didn’t make you feel like you were on a serving platter. 

You really didn't have time for this shit!

“Like I told your friend here, I need you both behind the line, you're getting in the way of my job and I’m tired of repeating myself.” 

It might have been a childish thing to do but you can’t help yourself when you make rude shoo-ing motions with your hands. 

The newcomers' eyes tighten inauspiciously. An imperceptible look passes between the two mountains that you can’t read. It makes you shudder which only stands to piss you off further. 

It’s not the first time you’ve had some hyper masculine fuck question your authority while on a rescue. Hell, it's come to be expected at this point and you’d joined an online support group for firefighters who experienced the same for being non-cis white dudes. 

The issue is whatever energy these monsters disguised as men are emitting, is disorienting. Normally you would have asked for back up after the second time your request was ignored. Yet your radio still sits at your shoulder and your hands are shaking beneath your thick gloves. 

After a beat the man with the boonie hat speaks, identifying himself as the leader of the two. 

“Listen love, we’re SAS, we can help with the rescue if you just point us in a direction.” 

Your eyes are rolling before he even finishes, you knew it. Macho men.

“That’s nice and I’m auditioning for the Wiz! We have everything under control gentlemen but thank you for the offer!” 

Maybe it’s the migraine or the lack of sleep, but you can’t help but to dig the knife in deeper just a little bit. You’re smiling with your teeth and speaking in a baby voice before you can think twice about it.

“Why don’t you big strong men sign up for the next station tour and I’ll give you a nice badge and a sucker!” You clap your hands in mock excitement, before flattening your tone and expression “So that way, when you wanna play firemen, you can do it without jeopardizing the professionals! Fuck you very much, get off of my scene.” 

Looking back it was probably the thing that doomed you, but you’d been too caught up in the moment to see it that way. Your radio had rattled off with the sound of your captain calling you in for an assist.

You hadn’t thought to really sus out the reaction of the men you’d bitched out. Had been all too happy to give up your position dealing with them to a wet behind the ears rookie. 

After getting the fire under control and surviving the end of your shift you’d gone home and face planted on the couch. After chugging down your weight in electrolytes and ramen, you joined the server for the firefighter’s support group.

You’d been soothed by the jokes your online support system cracked when you retold the clusterfuck of a day. Before logging off for the night you get a friend request from some random account with a string of numbers and a skull icon. You snort but look through the profile. Scoffing when you see that it was made in the last hour.

Fucking bot accounts. You’d have to ask the mods to check out their spam filters next time they were on. 

<SR141698 has been Blocked!>

Ugh, you needed a bath.

Preview of next part:

“Open your mouth.”

Your eyes widen and you struggle against the tight grip around your chin. His warm hands only tighten, causing your lips to pucker. A husky laugh sounds from behind your shoulder and you can feel the brush of cotton against your ear.

“C’mon pretty girl, open up, captain just wants to give you a sucker.”

[poppadom0912]

Anesthesia

Characters: Kelly Severide x Reader, Matt Casey, Crockett Marcel

Warnings: Mentions of surgery.

Summary: It's incredible was anesthesia can do to a person.

A/N: Very much mixed feelings but it's also kinda cute, idk. Really short compared to what I normally do but oh well.

*****

"Everything ran smoothly, not a single complication. I'm proud to say your stitches are some of my best and with this kind man at your bedside, you'll be back to firefighting in no time." Crockett said with a smile once he checked all your vitals.

You hummed happily, a sleepy smile on your face as you mentally thanked the man, forgetting he couldn't hear your thoughts. "Your a really good surgeon Crockett."

"I try my best." The surgeon laughed, taking your compliment in his stride. "Rest up alright? I'll be back later to check on you."

Wiggling your fingers, you sighed as the surgeon left the room and looked up at your man in interest, only now remembering his existence when you felt his fingers combing through your hair. "Oh! Husband you're here!"

"Always will be." Kelly chuckled, finding it too amusing how loopy you were after your surgery. He'd definitely remember every single second and make sure it came in handy in the future. "How you feeling?"

"Like a billion dollars." You said with a cheesy smile, enjoying the comfort he was bringing you. "I have a question for you though."

"Ask ahead baby." Kelly said, entertaining you.

"I'm not a baby." You scoffed, looking at him disapprovingly. "What happened to our baby though, y'know the reason why my stomach was so fat." You said, poking your completely flat stomach in pure wonder.

"I did give birth right?" You asked, confirming that your fears weren't true. "There was no surgery for taking our baby, they can't cut into my womb, the wombs mine-"

"Y/N, who do you think is sitting in the chair opposite mine." Kelly rose a brow, stopping you mid ramble before you could get yourself riled up for no reason.

Confused, you huffed but listened and turned your head to your left and what do you know, there sitting was none other than your husbands best friend with your six month old playing with his fingers on his lap.

"You have a baby?" You asked, your eyebrows shooting all the way up. "Since when was Sylvie pregnant?!"

Struggling but somehow managing to keep in his laugh, Kelly mocked glared at Matt who snickered. "That's our baby. The baby we made and was just talking about."

"My baby!" You said with the biggest smile. "I missed you baby boy."

Your son sent you a gummy smile, easily recognising your voice. He made random but very cute gurgling sounds mixed in with his giggles which made you smile even more.

"Don't you dare hurt my baby boy Matthew Casey." You said threateningly, glaring at your friend with squinted eyes. "I know where you live, where you work, sleep, and eat."

"We do a lot of those things together Y/N." Matt said, reminding you that you worked in the same firehouse as you and he was also your roommate at the loft.

You hummed nonchalantly, waving him off. "I'll still come for you Matthew."

"Copy that." Matt smiled, eyeing the time on his watch. "I gotta go, shift starts in ten and I need to drop off this little man with your sitter."

"Thanks man." Kelly said, helping gather up your son's nappy bag. "Be good alright? Don't be trouble." Kelly looked at your son seriously, giving him a quick kiss before they left.

"Aw, I miss them already." You pouted, looking at your husband longingly opening your arms wide open. "Come cuddle me please. I miss you too."

"I've always been here Y/N, and I'm not leaving any time soon." Kelly chuckled, sitting on the bed besides your legs. "I've taken time off to nurse you back to full health, remember?"

You hummed, not fully paying attention, simply gazing adoringly at your husbands incredibly handsome face. At the lack of an answer, Kelly laughed, brushing your hair back from your face so he could see your properly.

"Alright, budge up." Kelly gave in, watching you cautiously in case you hurt yourself as you moved.

"Your a firefighter, shouldn't you be able to fit into small spaces?" You asked very seriously but made room for him anyways. You wanted a proper answer but all your got was a small shake of his head and a hearty laugh from your man.

Settling against him, you rested your head against his chest, finding extreme comfort in the steady beats of his heart. His warmth enveloped you the second he gently wrapped his arms around you.

Pressing a kiss into your hair, Kelly listened to you hum contently as you relaxed in his embrace. Even on drugs, you always felt as though you were home with Kelly.

"Love you." You mumbled into his chest, your eyelids fluttering shut, completely wiped out despite barely moving and doing anything.

"Love you too." Kelly replied, watching you doze off and the only thing he could hear was the beeps of the monitors telling him you were alive and your barely audible snores.

[bots-and-cons]

I feel bad that I've been venting so frequently lately, but I don't really have anyone to talk to irl right now. Feel free not to read, but if you do, thanks

I'm feeling so damn overwhelmed. I have so many things I'm supposed to be doing, but I can't seem to get started on any of them. I really should start my swedish course, because it's the last summer course I have. I finished the other two courses last week, but I don't really feel any sense of accomplishment and it fucking sucks. There's apparently not really much to do with the swedish course, because one of my classmates got it done in under an hour, which is fucking weird, because it's a 5 credit course and one credit is supposed to be 27 hours of work. I hope it's actually that easy.

I've been having a lot of really weird and violent nightmares, which is also not fun. Also my intrusive thoughts seem to be sort of coming true in my dreams? In addition to the nightmares, my intrusive thoughts have gotten pretty bad and very violent. That has been going on for a couple of weeks now, and I just keep trying to ignore it. The intrusive thoughts just give me a lot of anxiety, and they scare me pretty bad, especially when I'm around other people. Lately it's also been pretty bad with the whole "kill yourself" thought when something goes wrong. Like I drop a spoon and my brain is immediately like, "omg you're such a failure, kill yourself". I don't understand why, because I'm not suicidal atm, not even close, I'm just stressed and overwhelmed. (I put the tw in the tags anyway though)

I hurt my foot like a month ago, probably a stress fracture or something of that sort, but it's now starting to feel better. I refused to go to the doctor about it, because a) I would have had to walk there and b) they would've most likely blamed it on my weight and hadn't actually done anything to help. I'm not saying my weight has nothing to do with it, of course it does. I'm fat, that's just a fact, but often doctors blame everything on my weight and don't look any deeper. It's fucking infuriating, because I know there's something wrong, but the only advice I get is "you should lose weight". I'm sure that would help some of the stuff that I've got, but some people treat it as some miracle cure.

I'm probably not going to do practical training at all this autumn, because I honestly don't feel like I can. I'm wondering if this whole school thing is really even worth it tbh. I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to hold down a full-time job. I would love to be able to work some day, at least part-time, but Idk how realistic that even is.

I've been able to manage school for a year and a half now, and I'm starting to feel pretty burned out. I don't know if I'll make it to next spring without having to take sick leave. I'm honestly fucking scared. I don't want to go into a depressive episode or trigger a more severe psychotic episode again. I've been having some hallucinations lately, and I'm pretty paranoid about a lot of stuff. It's not fun. One thing I've been wondering is what my psychosis actually is? My best guess would be psychotic depression, but I should probably talk about my psych nurse and psychiatrist about it.

I have a hairdresser appointment tomorrow, and I'm kinda nervous, because it's a new place, and I'm gonna have my hair dyed so it's gonna take a while. I'm not very good at spending time at places I don't know or where I haven't been before. The last time I got my hair cut was about a year ago so it's time to do it again. I want my hair shorter again and I decided I wanted to dye it purple. Probably a pretty dark purple because I don't know if I want to have my hair bleached first. Anyway, I feel a bit better having written this out, and I hope I can get an actual fic post out later this week too.

[yan-lorkai]

Ok so I know you're going Through It™️ with the vampire pomtrio fic. But I am curious on how exactly Epel came to be..."adopted" by Vil and Rook. Idk if it'll ever be brought up in the fic so imma ask now if that's cool. If it is then I'll just wait! If not then I would love to hear an infodump about their backstories in this au I love monster aus so much man 🙏🙏

Well, I did leave some crumbs in the fic but now that I'm thinking about it, everything was very subtle. So I'm just going to info dumping about Epel and his dads to u :D

Ok so for Epel I was imagining him being a sick child, always bedridden (inspired by me btw, I used to be the sick child), looking at the world through his little window and wishing he was different. He wished he was strong like the others so he could jump and run and play with the other children, he wished he could feel the sun on his skin as he worked in the fields with his grandmother and cousin. He wished people wouldn't look at him with those eyes full of pity, as if he were already dead. He knew that rumors about his condition were circulating among his neighbors, he just didn't know that anyone else was hearing them.

From his perspective, wishing did nothing. He was still so weak that his body couldn't stand upright a long time, he was still coughing and vomiting, and no doctor knew what he had. His medicines no longer working, his hopes fading, he became more withdrawn after a while, almost monosyllable. He wasn't living, he was just existing and Epel judged his existence as something insignificant in that dark moment. One day he fell asleep after another appointment with the doctor - this time a blond foreigner with beautiful lilac eyes, and he had a heavy but peaceful sleep, unlike many others in which he woke up with difficulty breathing. This time he felt no pain. He didn't even had any nightmare.

Although he felt better, a little stronger, after drinking the cocktail made by the Doctor with a funny name, Epel was still on the threshold between being sick and getting better. When he thinks about that moment now, he should have realized that Vil's words were filled with immortal secrets and that he knew more than everyone else. Vil was different from anyone he had ever seen or spoken to, and Epel had spoken to many doctors and nurses, yet Epel wished for Vil to cure him. Wishing was useless but he continued anyway. He preyed for it very quietly when he thought he was alone.

If you ask him, he still remembers how his transformation occurred. It was raining and windy that day, the raindrops hitting the roof were so loud that he couldn't hear anything that was happening outside his room. Honestly, he was glad he couldn't hear it. But he remembers feeling fear come over him when Dr. Schoenheit entered his room, his lab coat stained with blood while tiny drops still fell from his lips. He looked like a beast about to devour everything his fangs could reach. And yet, Epel supposed there was something poetic about dying at the hands of the one who had saved him. Instead, Vil asked him to join his little family, which at that time It consisted of just him and his father, Eric, that loved to travel around and see how the world had changed.

Epel agreed, as long as Vil spared his family. For which he approved, he had enchanted Epel's family and neighbors for them to forget him. He could have easily killed them but he was not bloodthirsty back then, every killing had to have a good reason. And then it happened. Epel was adopted and left together with Vil- no, his dad, as he liked to call him. Ofc everything was new to him and he often got scolded when he was out exploring humans villages alone and attacked someone when he got hungry. But nobody could judge him, Epel was living life (or death? 🤔) to its fullest!

(not sure if I'm gonna include this but initially I thought that over the years, Vil's father's passion took a stake to his heart. After all, humans are fearful people who fear the unknown. This would be the main reason for Vil to become even more responsible and mature, and cruel. He was never too compassionate or empathetic towards human being a natural born vampire, but after losing his father he had became more closed off to the everyone but his.)

Anyway a few centuries later, Rook Hunt appears in their lives. An eccentric vampire hunter known to trap vampires to study them, to know how to better hunt and kill them, mind you he only does this for fun. The first time met Vil he was so mesmerized by Vil's beauty that he started courting him, sending him little gifts (which consisted of the heads of his enemies, blood sags to feed him or his son, the most beautiful clothes and tiaras he could find). Meanwhile Vil is right here, confused bcs "wth is this strange human and why he likes to follow me around? Why isn't he afraid of me?" But like, eventually those two get together as a couple and Vil turns him too.

Though Vil did talked with his son first before turning Rook. He has a rule: for anyone to join the family, every member should want this. Otherwise, a transformation is not viable.

(But y'know initially Deuce would also be Epel's older brother - mostly bcs I love their friendship, Deuce would be Yuu's friend who guided them to this vacant mansion and also the one to vote for Yuu to become their younger sibling. Can't remember why I didn't follow this idea tho, but now I'm going to be think about this for a while)

This turned longer than I intended hehe. But if you still have any questions to make, I'm more than happy to answer it :)

[mandoalorian]

anxiety ramble

tw personal shit, anxiety, eating disorder mention, drug and alcohol abuse idk I'll delete this later I'm just trying to gain clarity over toxic thoughts

I'm cold and drinking chamomile and wearing what was once my favourite over sized hoodie but now it feels itchy against my skin and hugs at my wrists. I'm sick of feeling anxious, sick of having bad days and overthinking, so I've opened up Tumblr. I don't know why this was my solution because I don't go on here much at all anymore but I figured this was once my safe place so why not try and find some sort of comfort in it once again.

I've had a whirlwind past few days, weeks even. finished university, working full time hours at work, going out and making memories with friends, but the second I'm alone and without plans I can feel myself spiralling. when I'm out and drinking I feel free but I also become so self destructive. I'm like a walking disaster. I do the craziest, mind boggling things that I would never ever do sober. I act irrationally and I don't think about consequences. I say yes to EVERYTHING. and when I come back home in the early hours of the morning and nurse myself out of a hangover I feel empty and anxious again-- worrying what people think of me-- childish thoughts like that. I never used to care what people think. sure I did when I was 14 but I grew out of it like everyone does. and now I'm 22 and it's coming back. I'm desperately wanting to seek some kind of solid control over myself. my ED is all I've ever known; the only way I can 'be in control'; my safety blanket. but also I've been drinking a lot lately, and then there's the drugs too. and I can feel myself slipping. it's so easy to slip and fall.

I'm very lucky and blessed that my work will give me free counselling sessions / private healthcare but the all too familiar feeling of not being 'sick' enough is overwhelming. I feel trapped and anxious and isolated. and I'm very aware I have people around me. people who love and care for me. but even when I'm surrounded by people or bombarded with texts I just feel alone. and scared. I'm scared

[cyberends]

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐌 𝐈 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 [ . . . ] ?

ryo marufuji of yu-gi-oh! gx. by percival (he/him, 30+)

⎛ dossier ¹ verses ² relationships ³ tbd ⁴ ⎠

affiliated with [ . . . ] tba

𝐨𝐧𝐞. #CYBERENDS is an independent, private, highly selective and mutuals exclusive writing blog for ryo marufuji of yu-gi-oh! gx! this blog focuses on post-gx things, but i'll have verses for things during the plot!

this blog is 18+. please do not follow me if you are under 18!

on this note, this blog will feature dark and triggering themes. idk what to tell you but hell kaiser didn't happen without violence involved! i will make sure to tag these things with the format of #trigger so that they can be filtered out!

𝐭𝐰𝐨. shipping is not the priority here- but for reference my ship preference is ryo and asuka- i'm not going to force that on anyone, i don't auto-ship, it's just my preference! i also love the ryo fubuki yusuke polycule. i do not ship ryo and edo. anyway, please plot with me about shipping, i like knowing what the heck is going on and where we are going.

i don't ship with muns under 21. i write ryo post s4, making him 21.

i am very open to other sorts of bonds, though! because it isn't just romance when people talk about ships- i am open to seeing how things go nonetheless!

i should also note that i will accept mains and exclusives!

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞. please DO tag #trypophobia for me, it makes my brain do big bad.

𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐫. i am known for writing metas across the blogs i have. in the wise words of a friend:

with this in mind, the metas i write are portrayal specific to this blog, so please give them a read! i know i can be rather wordy- anyone who has followed me elsewhere may know this, but for my first time followers, worldbuilding is one of my favorite things to do. i am particularly fond of analysis of character psychology.

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞. to the point above, i do have other blogs! and i have no organizational skill so im all over the place ... and i have a job that steals my energy

and by this, i mean i work 32-40 hours as a registered nurse in an inpatient psychiatric unit. i am busy, i am tired, and i can't keep letting my focus go all over the place. inevitably, it still may do that because i have a tendency to be scattered, so if i don't get to something immediately, it isn't you, it's me!

also related to that, i do love communication! i struggle with reading the room (it's the Autism tm) and so if something's up or if you're bothered, please be direct with me! i will not take offense, i quite appreciate feedback so that i can be better as a person! in return, i will communicate back! i am learning to curate my space (after 10+ years of being on tumblr).

𝐬𝐢𝐱. there are people i won't interact with due to various reasons- my dni list is on the carrd of my other blogs. i won't interact with genderbent versions of characters, people who are Real Life Individuals (not counting fictional depictions like in the typemoon franchise or whatnot because those really have nothing to do with the actual individual they're supposedly based on?).

please stay far away from me if you fall under the following categories (i'm censoring things because god knows tumblr just picks shit up idk): proshipping, writing inc*st, p*dophilia, r*pe/n*ncon, are transphobic/homophobic- the usual gross behavior! use your moral compass!

on top of that, i am a firm believer that we learn from the media around us. full censorship is just as dangerous as the aforementioned things- the world isn't all sunshine and rainbows! please refer to this post which essentially summarizes the gist of what i'm trying to explain.

𝐬𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧. anyway, hello, i'm percival. i am 30+ and use he/him pronouns exclusively! i am a hobby artist (it's my side-gig from nursing) and sometimes i post my art, tagged #whats my art tag considering i constantly forget my art tag if it's fancy. please do not repost my art without my permission.

mutuals, feel free to ask me for my discord, since i am much easier to reach there!

i look forward to writing with you!

[chaosvents]

i hate election years living with my parents, man. the world is burning, the arctic is melting, the wealth gap is spreading, wages are stagnant, cost of living is skyrocketing, and rights are being taken away and regulated at the whim of old men with hearts full of hate. meanwhile i have to gently talk my mother through an explanation of why it's bad that donald trump said he'd be a dictator, but only on his first day. she also said if biden loses he will also incite an insurrection? and that idk what makes her think that but she also yelled at me for saying trump is a convicted criminal. "so is joe biden" not... not for attempting a coup in response to losing an election though. but she doesn't see the difference. granted my mom kind of revels in her stupidity, i don't really understand her. she's proud of not knowing things, but i'm very much the type of person who is trying to learn every minute of every day, i jokingly call it 'need to know everything disease' and it is a blessing and a curse. the curse is Knowing How Bad It Really Is, obviously. but the blessing is knowing wtf is going on with the world. but she's proud of not knowing anything i'm ever talking about. she's been married to my dad for almost 30 years and she jokes nonstop about how her eyes glaze over when he talks about his work (that he's been doing for 40 years). like... that's not the flex you think it is?

anyway. all rants end up with my mother because she's the root of most of my trauma. my point here is that i was telling her i was anxious about the election and she decided to spend a couple hours arguing. and her point just drives me nuts. basically, she's not voting out of protest ("i'll vote when i see a good option, im 55 and i never have"). no amount of gentle slow explaining can convince her why that's not the protest she thinks it is. her secondary point is that all politicians are vicious criminals who hate you. which, like, yeah, but she uses it as an excuse to play dumb. she's proud of not knowing literally anything at all about politics because the depth and breadth of her knowledge is "politics is boring and politicians are bad". like please. please. the anti-intellectualism is killing me. why do you hate learning.

and that's another thing she does that makes me insane! she's one of those "i make fun of you because i love you" people and bringing it up will just get you a fuckton more teasing. i've spent a decade begging her not to constantly make fun of and bully me because it makes me feel like im in school again. but every time i bring it up she asks "if i didnt tease you how would you know i love you?" as if i wouldn't feel so much more loved if she listened to me. anyway one of the things she teases me about is that i like to learn. i will bring up something cool i learned and she immediately bursts into laughter. i've asked her questions afterwards and she always answers like "i don't know, i wasn't really listening". i'll tell a story and she'll respond with something completely random in a way that shows she wasn't listening even a little bit. that happens especially when im excited and telling good news and she responds with "oh, it'll be okay, hopefully tomorrow is better". like???? okay not only were you not listening, you also see my excitement and joy and assume you need to comfort me? what the fuck is wrong with her.

my sister is a nurse and her and i talk about this all the time. my mom acts stoned constantly. she takes 30-60 seconds to respond to any question and her response is "...what?" at least 1/3 of the time. the rest of the time it's a toss-up whether her response will be a random sentence she pulled out of her ass, or something that has anything to do with the topic being discussed. she doesn't do drugs either! no weed, no pills, not even alcohol. i swear to god she's proud of being stupid and slow. like she's doing it on purpose. she never used to be like this. it makes me want to slap her. wake the fuck up! react to something! join a conversation! learn something about your kid or husband! fuck!

[cumulativechaos]

almost done my 1st semester of nursing school and the program i'm in has me doing clinicals already so i've seen what it's gonna be like and i like it a lot!! i'm enjoying my job and i like what i'm learning and i feel like this is something i can be good at and i like helping people. obviously it's very early but i'm feeling confident in my career choices so far

but GOD i'm so fucking afraid of not liking my coworkers. like that post i just reblogged is TRUE those nurses EXIST and the last thing i want is to have to deal with them every fucking day

[chibikisu]

Twisted Wonderland Idia x GN! Reader: Nervous

" THINK. CORRECTLY. MAKE YOUR MIND WORK IDIA. SAY SOMETH- “YOUR BEAUTIFUL!” NOT THAT!!! ABORT! ABORT MISSION!! FLEE! "

* ~ In which Idia embarrasses himself in front of his crush and thus becomes full of anxiety and a bit dramatic.. Feat. Ortho! ~*

A/N: So I tried my hand at making a Twisted Wonderland Reader Insert. Why did I choose Idia? Honestly Idk. Maybe it backfired on me or maybe I'm just rusty in my writing since it's been like a year. Anyways let me know what you think and if it was as all over the place as I feel it is. lol I promise the next should be alot better!

Idia really didn't know what was going on. I mean he wasn't an idiot, he knew WHAT he was feeling. He just didn't like feeling it. Wait no! Not like that! He did like feeling this feeling and WHO he was feeling it for. He just didn't like how it made him feel like a Noob in a lobby full of Pros in one of the most common video games.. Idia groaned and sighed for the hundredth time and fell back on his bed. He had made a fool out of himself (as usual) in front of (Y/N) and really felt the blow to his HP this time. As such he has been locked in his room; more than his usual he would say; and been trying to recover from the said incident. Ortho on the other hand had never seen him so gloomy or something he thought was just a simple misunderstanding.. “C'mon! Big Bro! Open up!” Ortho yells over the 8-bit aesthetic music trying to tune him out, inside of his Older brothers room. “I know you can hear me!!” He knocks on the door multiple times. Still nothing. Sighing Ortho recalls the data he saw earlier in the day before his Brother became like this. It was with the Prefect (Y/N). From what he could tell he could see them conversing but he was only able to catch half of what was said between the two. “hmm..” Ortho goes over the data from the beginning and sees if he can find the problem.

**-//Reviewing Data: NRC 15:45 Courtyard//-**

The video data shows Ortho seeing both the Prefect (Y/N) talking with Idia. Ortho tunes in with his upgraded hearing after noticing that Idia's heart rate has gone up significantly and his body temperature as well. Oh no! Was he getting sick? The Prefect must be there to take him to the nurse since he was making a face like he was trying not to get sick right there. Still, Ortho wanted to make sure his brother was okay.

“You sure your okay Idia?” (Y/N) smiled worriedly as they went to gently touch his lower arm. Stiffing up with a quick “EEP?!” Idia quickly swerved away just enough to where the prefect wasn't able to touch him. “??” (Y/N) brought their hand back and didn't push it any farther, Idia already looked as if he was slowly turning into a ghost. His skin seemed paler than usual and you could of sworn he was trembling slightly..or was that just your imagination? Trying to change the subject and hoping to make him smile they suggest “I was thinking..since I finally have some free time this week and Grimm will be hanging out with Deuce and Ace. Maybe I could hang out with you and you could show me how to play that um..what's it called again? Kingdom Moon Finally?” Idia winces a slightly at their guess “Actually It's Final Kingdom Moon: One digital star to rule them all! But uh..yeah close enough.” Idia starts fiddling his hands. (Y/N) laughs “Sorry, I'll try to remember that for next time.” Idia's eyes widen and suddenly he's panicking. “Y-you don't have to remember it! I-I mean I don't expect you to!” (Y/N) goes to open their mouth when Idia seems to have heard his own words and panics even more “I-I mean I don't expect you to remember the game's name! N-not that you couldn't! You seem very smart and talented and overall just very uh...erm.” THINK. CORRECTLY. MAKE YOUR MIND WORK IDIA. SAY SOMETH- “YOUR BEAUTIFUL!” NOT THAT!!! ABORT! ABORT MISSION!! FLEE!

**-//Reviewing Data: NRC 15:55 Courtyard – COMPLETE -//-**

The footage stops as that's when Ortho had to chase after his Older Brother after he had mad a dash for the dorms. Leaving poor (Y/N) behind in confusion. “What could have made Big brother leave like that?..” Ortho thought while still standing next to the elders door. Hmm..Everything seemed fine until (Y/N) said they would remember the game's name for next time.. ?! Oh.

Ortho Knocked on Idia's door again. “It's okay Big Bro!” Ortho smiled to himself. “I'm sure (Y/N) won't be hanging out with you anymore!” Suddenly the music stopped and it turned eerily quite.

The door creaked as it opened just slightly and Idia was only visible in the dark room by the glowing of his hair. “....ortho..” Ortho's eyes widened. What happened?!

Idia's eyes bore into Ortho's worried big eyes and asked with a serious tone. “Why...why would you tell me that?..” Ortho tried gently pushing the door open a little more before answering “Well..I thought the whole reason you ran away from the prefect was because you didn't want them hanging out with you? Y-You seemed to panic once they said 'next time'.” Idia nodded and then asked “Is that what it looked like?” Ortho just silently nodded after slowly opening the door to see Idia wrapped in a blanket, fall face first on the ground. “K.O. Critical Hit!” Ortho walks and sits next to his brother on the floor. “Uh..What?” Idia them mumbles something that's not distinguished enough to be heard while Idia is still face first on the floor. Rolling him over proves harder to do as every time Ortho pushes Idia upright he just turns over again. “Big Bro!” “Leave me alone Ortho. It's over. I can never show my face out there again.” Ortho Deadpans. “Big Bro, you never really went outside much anyways..” “Ouch. Double Kill.” “BIG BRO.” Idia finally sits up and groans hands on his face. “Well I defiantly can't now! You saw how it went! You even said you thought I didn't want to hang out with (Y/N)!” “You do?” Ortho tilts his head. “YES!! More than anything I do!” Idia yells while throwing his hands up in the air. “But I thought that when (Y/N) said 'Next time' you were freaking out?” “YES!! BECAUSE THERE WOULD BE A NEXT TIME!!!” “And You want that to happen?” “Ortho. I don't know how much louder I can yell yes anymore.” Idia looks at Ortho. Meanwhile Ortho sits there thinking. After a while he grins “Ooh! THAT'S why your body temperature and heart rate were so high while talking to them! You LIKE them!!” Blushing Idia looks away from his little brothers discovery and mumbles “Man..way to get all in my business..” Still he can't be mad at him. “Well! Let's go tell them that you would love to hang out!” “WOAH. Pause. on. That. Let's not get to riled up here. You saw how I freaked today.” Idia grows worried again. “It always happens like that! It goes..er..okay? And then they say something that throws me off and I just go into high drive into whatever I can think the fastest.” He lets out a high pitched squeak. “And today the first thing was calling them BEAUTIFUL! EEEE” “Ortho pats his brother's back. “I can try to help you ask them to play games somewhere that's not as personal and secluded like your room. Maybee...like..The Board game club!” Ortho nods happy with his idea. “It wouldn't be as close and intimate but it's a good start!” Idia looks down at his lap. “I don't know..what if they don't want to bother with me anymore?” “That's why we ask! What's the worst that could happen?” Idia furows his brows. “They say no? And then I have to know that I ruined my shot with them and it be awkward for the rest of my school life-” “Don't be so dramatic Brother.” Orhto sighs. Honestly, sometimes it seems like Idia can give Rook a competition at being dramatic at times..

( Y/N) keeps looking at their phone while debating on texting Idia if maybe they overwhelmed them too much today. They knew he could get overwhelmed pretty easily and would hate to be the reason for it. Beginning to type out a message the receive a message from the one person they were just trying to reach out to. “Idia?..messaged me?” You really weren't expecting to receive a message from him after earlier today, but yet here the notification was. Making sure Grimm wasn't snooping you opened the message to smile to yourself.

'Hey..If U want U could always come to the board game club and we could play co-op sometime..if U want.'

Idia always was so cute when he was nervous, at least to you he was. But you were slightly biased. Typing a reply of “I'd love 2” you turn off your phone and have a slight skip to your step as you go on with the rest of your day, now having something to look forward to with your favorite person.

[gabzlovesu]

VALENTINE'S DAY STORYTIME:

here’s what happened...

we celebrated valentine's day on saturday because i wasn't sure what my schedule for monday was gonna look like — nursing school doesn't stop for nobody yall and i can't afford to get behind. i had to study for an exam on sunday and the restaurant wasn't gonna be open that day, so we settled for the latest reservation we could get at char on saturday, which was 12:00.

ok say boom, friday night i washed my hair and prepped it for my wig and stuff, but ya girl was in distress because i didn't finish until like 1 or 2 in the morning and my hair was still a little damp. so i'm like, i'll just get up in the morning to put it on.

saturday morning i get up at 8 and to lay my wig — almost burning myself in the process — and do my makeup. and look...i'm no pro but i did wtf i had to do! i was on crunch time with only 3 hours to get ready and i mf did that! i literally did not get dressed up until the last minute and i was scared that we weren't going to make our brunch reservation. here's my otufit ig, i literally don't know how to take pictures so don't say nothing:

i tell him to pull up to my dorm because i'm getting dressed and it will only take a few minutes to get myself together and the resturant was just down the street. AS SOON AS I GET DRESSED I REALIZE I DON'T HAVE MY WINTER COAT! but being the bad bitch that i am i was just gonna suck it up and go out in the 30 degree weather and just grab my coat from the car. that would be fine right? NOPE! i fucking forgot that my sister took the car to work that morning so i wouldn't be able to get my jacket. when my bf pulled up i literally sprinted to the car with his gift in my arms looking like a skank 😭 but yall would do it too for a check!

we made it in time, we get our table with no wait at all. cool. and i just know people are staring at me for being dressed like this when its freezing outside, idgaf tho and they need to worry about they food. we had the stupid chocolate milk debate at the table lmaooooo. anyways, i got the shrimp and grits and he got the chicken and biscuits (ya know some real southern shit purrr). now exaplain to me why my shit was expensive and i got like a cup of grits and 5 pieces of shrimp and this man had hella food for less. i was cheated yall, but he did share some of his food with me hehe 🥰 we got desert also, which was alright but the options were limited and i'm a picky eater lol. here's my food:

he takes me back to my place so i can change into some comfy clothes and clean up my room before i go to his apartment. and we made a quick stop by walgreens on the way to his place.... iykyk.

so we walk up the stairs and he like pauses before he opens the door, and i'm just like, you good bro?? BUT IT TURNS OUT HE HAD ROSE PETALS LEADING TO HIS ROOM WHERE THEY WERE ALL OVER THE FLOOR AND ON THE BED IN A HEART SHAPE WITH CHOCOLATES AND A BIG SQUISHMALLOW!!! he knows i loves squishmallows, they're so cutee aaghhhhh. he also said that he will take me to get a mani pedi wenever i want; he didn't want to make an appointment in advance because he knows nursing school has my schedule all fucked up. then he opened my gift which was a basket full of candy, a card, the new pokemon game that he wanted so bad, and a nike gift card.

and ummm this is the nsfw part so go away if your not 18+ or you don't want to read it. so we started making out and shit and my clothes just disappeared like idk what happened yall 🤷🏽‍♀️ he at my coochie, as he should, and then broke my back while folding me in half like a lawn chair. there were some slipups, like a rose petal got stuck in my butt crack and i didn't even know lmfao, and i said "you gonna fuck me like a slut?" and he didn't respond how i wanted him too and i was embarazzed (he's so vanilla yall, we're working on that tho). then this man said — and i quote— "squirt all over my dick" EXCUSE ME??!!! WHERE DID YOU LEARN THAT BECAUSE I AINT NEVER HEARD YOU SAY THAT BEFORE OMGGGGG...but i did it tho sskksks.

when we were finish we really just laid around and had a chill day after that, we don't have to be doing much to enjoy each other's company. i watched him play the pokemon game for a little bit before watching tiktoks on my phone. eventually he fell asleep (that coochie knocked him out 😮‍💨) i was fighting off sleep but i stayed up to study a little for my exam. we eventually went on a food run with his friends that night an then went to sleep. i did unfortunately loose my BRAND FREAKING NEW set of lashes that i had put on that day :(

BUT I LOVED OUR VALENTINE'S DAY AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH OKAY BYEEEE!

[alongtidesoflight]

yk not to rant or anything but i'm tired of my sister and mother ignoring all of my advice while shoving their advice down my throat

and every time i do take their advice things go sideways

but if i do things my way they work out just fine

like i'm mad tired of them acting like i don't know jack shit when the opposite is proven to be true time and time again

point in case my sister told me not to water a calathea i bought as frequently as i did because "they don't need this much water" when the sticker on the plant said it does need that much water and she'd get passive aggressive each time she watched me water the plant so i stopped watering the plant as frequently and went by what she told me

and it died obviously, i'm talking yellowed dry leaves looking like a lost case

then she'd go on a rant to my mother about how bad i am with plants and that you can't hand me shit because i can't care for it, meanwhile i was nursing that calathea back to full bloom and come spring it was just as new

and my mom has this thing where she absolutely refuses to go by my advice because she "knows better", but her entire vegetable harvest this year turned out to be utter shit because she didn't want to replace the soil in her planters because "it's just soil they'll grow in any kinda soil" and then she has the audacity to give me a stingy jealousy competition kind of backhanded compliment about my plants having grown so much this year

yeah because i used the right kinda soil for them

and don't even get me started on my "i'll come running to you to repair my bike chain bc idk how to do it and don't want to get my hands greasy but don't you dare use the drill because that's a man's job yes i insist on it even though i've seen you competently use it countless times before" stepdad

like i'm tired it's such an endless circle of "you're too incompetent we won't take your advice whoops why did this work out for you and not for me i'm pissed about it now and i'll take it out on you" and "you don't fit my ideas of manliness so i will treat you like a delicate flower who should never work power tools even though you could easily repair the parts of my house that are falling into disrepair while i refuse to do any dirty jobs or necessary repairs myself but i will get pressed about the house coming apart because no one around here does anything about it"

what's up it's lunch time and i've been dealing with everyone's problems but my own while simultaneously being undermined for half a day and i'm just so ready for this day to end already

my dog died a couple days ago i'd just like a fucking breather once in a while yk

[thedoctor1002]

Idk, I never posted one of my fics here but guess I'll try ~

Also, English is not my first language so feel free to correct me QwQ

Fandom: Psycho-Pass -season 1- (is this still a thing?)

Characters: Kogami Shinya, Sasayama Mitsuru, OC

Prompt (it was in Italian, so I'll translate): write a story using three among these words: cloud, dusk, thunderstorm, storm, hull, bay, shelter, sail, night

Title: Log date: 2110/02/28 (Friday) 22:04

---

The lights of the bay flicker dynamically before your eyes.

They dance hypnotically, of the same cyan colour of your office’s walls, but with a whole different beat. They drink the red and white trails from the traffic, they shatter and multiply in the tears of an inclement rain. I know how much you hate it, you just can’t stand going on recon with an umbrella. On the other hand, I love it.

Rain brings us close together under the waterproof cloth and I manage to observe details that neon lights often hide from me: the precise way you part your hair, the last few drops of the jasmine perfume on your jacket, your long lashes. Shion thinks they’re fake. We always fight over it, can you believe me?

After all, you’ve never been the kind of woman to wear such frills. 

A notification arrives, the acid light of your impalpable PC breaks through the sacred dark from where you pretend you don’t see me. It digs your silhouette and paints you like a ghost on the huge windows of the Public Safety Bureau.

Your jet-black hair lay on your back like varnish pouring over the white silk of your blouse.

“Pulling an all-nighter, Inspector Matou?” I ask casually, exposed. With you, after all, I always am: you’re the only one that can shush my shitty jokes.

But this time you laugh slightly: nothing more than a spike, a trembling breath that shakes your ribs and lips.

“The forecasts say that the storm won’t stop until tomorrow morning,” you tell me, sitting at your desk, “also, I’ve been delaying this paperwork through all week, it's about time I get it done. Might as well do some overtime and get rid of it, don’t you think?”

“You’re such a workaholic.” I label you, realizing how lucky I am being allowed to do it: Ginoza, that prude, would have never let it slide “You should leave some for the rest of the precinct: make 'em earn their wages.”

A tired smile crosses your face as you tap your fingers on the keyboard. It’s so clear you’re trying to avoid my glance.

You used to look for it.

You looked for my eyes at briefings, in that discrete way that eventually shocked everyone. You looked for them among alleys, as soon as you heard a gunshot or the chocked sound of a fight.

And when you found me, it felt like a 7 miles free fall.

“How are the legs going?” I dare to ask. I see the hollow structure of your new shins below the hem of your pencil skirt. They swing a bit underneath the glass of your desk. You didn’t lose your damn tic, your right heel shakes like the needle of a sewing machine even when you seem calm.

You shrug and drink the bottom of an already empty glass of water.

I shouldn’t have asked. It breaks my heart, to see you like this.

You don’t give me an answer and massage the back of your knee with a sigh. Lately, I feel like you’re avoiding me.

You’re turning back into the one you were before: uncompromising, cold and distant. I wonder if the bunch of ingrates downstairs have been calling you Dobermann again. I wonder if you’re still as relentless.

You worry me: your stress level is getting darker and darker. You don’t want old Kasei to take issues with you, not again.

I can imagine how you must have felt, the night when this mess happened.

You most likely got pissed, if I do know you.

I mean, did they really think I got away on my own? I bet you never doubted me: no one knows an Enforcer better than its Inspector.

“Runaway?! Have you lost your minds?” Sasayama?!”

Those were the first words you said when they rescued you. You spoke them way before cleansing your lungs from the rotten water of the river, way before asking Masaoka if you’d have ever got back to feeling your lower legs. They hurt like hell and you had to pull them around like sandbags.

“They got him” you panted, holding tight on your mentor’s coat “They took him away, I tell you!” The one that kidnapped him wasn’t a latent criminal. The Dominator didn’t activate, not even when they shot me. Please, believe me. Check on the log files, please.”

Crime coefficient: 0.

I know that bug still haunts you.

Cause, after all, it’s can’t be anything else: who on earth is that Makishima to fly under the Sibyl Sistem’s radar? Who can fool a network that knows your crimes before you do? And how is it possible that the silhouette that kneecapped you and threw you into a river could possibly be innocent?

You haven’t lost your mind, Inspector: the Dominator betrayed me, too.

Don’t think I don’t know how pitiful must have been, the next three days.

Makishima isn’t real. Forget it, it was just a delirium. You were in shock.

It was the trauma, dear. It was a breakdown. It was burnout syndrome.

You’d use some holiday, darling. Take a week. Take two. Go somewhere far, no, better: just stay at home. Go to therapy. Keep yourself busy, don’t think about it. Work. Also, don’t work: it wears you out!

They put you back on your feet in less than six hours, but nobody allowed you to join search parties. Heaven forbid your stress level getting any darker. Heaven forbid that yet another good Inspector gets demoted among those damn Enforcers. But, still, in the whole IT section, there wasn’t a single nerd that could get that night's logs. That's one funny thing, ain't it?

Woman, sometimes I wish your damn head wasn't that hard. I wish you didn't follow the Forensics to get a lift, so soon after the deed.

At least, you could have listened to Kogami. Shit, didn't you see how pale he was? You didn't even need the Dominator to read him, his stress level was mindblowing!

You should have believed him when he told you you didn't want to enter that alley. First off, it was already full of other detectives and analysts. I have no idea what kind of business you had to do in there. Second thing second, Kogami has an eye for certain matters. Do you think he didn't notice I’ve always been all over you? Not gonna lie, maybe I told him about you, once or twice.

But no, of course, you had to get in.

The software that taught you how to walk on those carbon stilts made you stand your ground and bark a "For fuck's sake, Shinya, move!" worthy of the Dobermann’s reputation. Even those who hadn't been called out made way.

But your new legs didn't hold you, when you saw what they had made of my corpse.

I'm sorry, Katsumi, I never wanted to upset you like that. 

You know how much I would have rather have a more heroic death. I don't know, like, in the middle of a shooting, saving the day. It would have been much classier, less tacky, less trash. I think I deserved it, that's all.

You stop typing and rub your temples. You shelter what’s left of your lipstick behind your hand. I wish I could kiss it off, instead of watching you consume it in a ruby red halo in the notch between your thumb and your index.

You lift your eyes only for Kogami, who’s passing by your office like a nurse in its night shift.

“So?” he asks in a whisper, putting more care in that question than I could have ever done. More than anybody could have ever done, because he’s the only one that gets you, right now. You two seem like the only ones who lost something.

You shake your head slowly, staring at the monitor and the dangerously high Crime Coefficient on the display.

“It's not working” you wail softly, misty-eyed. I can’t believe it, is it still you?

“They’re gonna kick me out anyway, if it doesn’t lower quickly” you continue, with that realism of yours. I used to call you a jinx for that but, at the end of the day, you always got our backs. “It’s for the best if I just resign. I’m gonna keep what's left of my dignity, at least.” 

The dark profile of my best friend looks through me, as he sits on the armchair next to mine. He would like to say something, a word of encouragement maybe, we all know it in this damn room, but numbers shut our mouths. 

“You could become an Enforcer” he proposes.

Goddammit, Shinya, did we work with the same person? Katsumi as an Enforcer?

And there you go, shaking your head. You hold your face in your hands and let your raven hair hide your visage. 

“Can you imagine me, following orders? I do know how to work, I can do it better than three-quarters of our colleagues and I’ve never had problems remarking it. They’d eat me alive if they had the chance. Dogs celebrate on the corpses of lions.”

“But lions remain lions and dogs stay dogs.” Kogami finishes, stealing my lines. 

I notice the slight trembling of your finger, as you tap your touchpad to send that last confirm.

In a few moments, the system will have your resignation registered. Your profile won’t unlock your Dominator anymore and in a few days time, just enough for you to collect your belongings, you won’t even manage to enter the office.

Who’s gonna explain to old Kasei that there's more of your stuff here than in your apartment?

I’d ask you what do you plan on doing with your life, but tonight’s decision seems definitely brave enough to call it a day.

I look at the tabs you open in your browser, they mirror in the windows behind you.

Air travel.

Argentina, Cuba, States, New Zealand, Germany, Kenya. You go around the world in 80 seconds flat, you multiply your chances and spread them all through the air in front of you, in a complex diagram that doesn’t lead anywhere.

I never wanted to take you away from your home, you don’t deserve this. 

You cover your eyes with a hand and use the other one to pick a random selection from your atlas.

Greece.

“Well, at least it’s on the sea.” you wrap up, condensing in a handful of words the only satisfaction you can find in starting a brand new life.

You two stare at the transparent screenshot of your flight, the countdown on the web page seems way too joyful.

“It’s so exciting, Katsumi Matou! Check-in your luggage. Your journey will begin in: 06 days: 17 hours: 34 minutes: 21 seconds”

20.

19.

18.

Seconds pass by, in complete silence.

“Do you think it would be a burden to him?” you ask Shinya, “Do you think he’d understand?”

Who would have guessed that a cynic one like yourself could believe in the afterlife? I wish I were here to ask you. I wish we could have spoken about life, death, sex, about things long gone and things yet to be.

His hand squeezes yours gently, as he looks at you in the eye, hoping to stop the train to Paranoidland from setting off.

“It’s not your fault” he reassures you as he can: the both of you wouldn’t make the average person’s empathy.

But he’s right, though, it really isn’t: I know you’ve done anything you could. It’s always been like that.

“Maybe I owe him” you draft “Even if they don’t believe in Makishima, maybe one day I could have proved he exists.”

The teal of your Psycho-Pass would suit you wonderfully, if it wasn’t a description of your mental health.

What could you possibly do in these conditions? You’d have ended up in a cubicle, filing loss and theft reports. You would have never made it to the dossiers, surely not to those of such a controversial case. Making you end up in a study room would have been my final bullshit. I’m happy with your choice, really. I would have loved visiting Europe someday.

“Don’t talk nonsense.” Kogami rebukes you, externalizing what I’ve been thinking all along: “I’m going to look out for your man: your team has already given way too much. I’m gonna find him, Matou, cold case or not.”

You nod, but it’s clear you don’t believe him. I can read through you, you’re a terrible liar.

I don’t think you don’t trust him, most likely you’ve done the math and figured that working on an independent case is far too difficult for an Inspector, let alone for an Enforcer.

And there it is, my fall. After an exhausting chase, you finally look into my eyes, even though -according to Shinya- you’re most likely staring at the void.

Despite being used to such races, believe me, I’ve missed you.

“I’m just so sorry.” you finally whisper, giving me a bitter smile. 

Try and stop me, Ginoza, tell me once again how inappropriate it is: I don’t mind anymore. I get up and I don’t hesitate while holding you and leaving a kiss on your hair, shamelessly.

“I’m going to grab some coffee” I announce, walking backwards to the door like a shrimp, just to look at my dearest friends a bit longer. “I’d get you one, but I’m short on coins. Maybe next time.”

“See you, Inspector.”, Kogami greets you, leaving alongside me.

“Be good.” you wave back, as we were all to meet again tomorrow.

Walking through the dark alley, I can hear an excerpt from our last conversation through the opaque glass of your office.

“You’re jerk, Sasayama!”

I can hear you laughing out loud, through the crackly recording. You laughed at my gall, with that warm, strong, sweet voice of yours, mocking me. Admit it: mine, after all, were the only compliments that could make you blush.

It’s incredible how we managed to joke even inside a car that was taking us on a crime scene. To an external eye, we might have looked disrespectful. Truth is I’ve always feared death so much I just had to laugh at the reaper.

“Oh, come on, what would it take? Come with me to the Precinct’s New Year’s dinner, the 17th is around the corner!” I kept annoying you, as you were too busy driving to mind my dumb flirt attempts. I still can’t get how we never had an accident. “Be good, Katsumi, give me a joy to live for!”

“You could always ask Shion, you know? You always give her more attention, after all.”

I hear the subtle sound of the wheels stopping, the parking brake cracking and it’s like Ogishima’s outskirts appear before my eyes, in that same January night. That place gave me goosebumps, but I would have hated if you understood it.

“Here we are” you announced, with still a bit of resentment in your voice. You unlocked the passenger’s door and I remember I left your Dominator in the car’s trunk: I didn’t want you to follow me. Not that time.

“You scare me when you pay so much attention” you commented, noticing how serious I got “will you tell me why are you insisting so much to keep on searching? Kogami got the guy. Tomorrow we go, we arrest him and it's thank you, next.”

My answer has been recorded as a distant and muffled noise, but I still can trace it: “He’s not the one, I tell you. I have another suspect, but I need a more solid base. And you’re staying, Inspector.”

“Staying?! You’ve gone crazy!” you laughed, locking the corporate sedan behind you “If something were to happen to you, or worse if you didn’t come back, Kasei would…”

“I said you’re staying: it’s dangerous.”

“Sasayama, our work is dangerous,” you replied, contemptuous, understanding that clearly among the gear I brought I didn’t count yours and going back to the car to get it “One more risk won’t make a difference: if I have to drop dead, it can either be here, at home or god knows where.”

“Will you join me for the precinct’s dinner, though?”

And here is a sequence that the voice recorder surely can’t have grasped, but that I could remember even in a thousand years. You cast an outraged glance over me from above the trunk’s door, panting through a half-smile. You shook your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. And finally, after refusing my invitations since 17th November, during lunch break, you smiled shrugging.

“Deal, come on, just make way” you sighed, as your heels echoed on the wet concrete “Still, you’re a jerk.”

“I recorded it: you have no excu-”

The audio file interrupts.

End of recording.

[dyker-farmer]

Ok this was supposed to be a quick draw and a description to go with, that blew into a full chapter and now it's also on Ao3 SO happy reading ig idk

I never see Shane works that don't go all in for romance nor explore the more realistic ugly parts of recovery, and I kind of crave That TM. So let me have at it too with the self-insert whump mumbo jumbo; no romo version.

Set post-8 hearts event, Farmer Uidelsib is two years or so in, full house built and married to Emily. They/them pronouns, same as me.

Diverges from then on, Shane-centric from an outside POV for the most part.

[[MORE]]

Take that can away if you can.

Gulp it down. Chapter 1/2/3/4

There's a few to-know to survive life in society, in the valley; there's no good way to comment on the age nor weight of both resident housewives, you can't say no to Evelyn's homemade cookies- and why would you, you fool-, you do not fight at the Saloon or you'll get no cheese anymore on your pizza and only sparkling water for drinks, and-

And you don't mess with Shane's alcohol related ritual.

Except I did, that night, because you do that, when your two-years long friendship with the guy taught you better than letting his impulses overcome yours, when your buddy is trying to recover from teenage long-lasting into early adulthood, trauma-enhanced heavy addiction, and you know, you know tomorrow he'll feel like absolute shit and question his right to therapy the moment he'll stop his pounding skull from splitting. Wonders what a three-dosage paracetamol can do. 

At least he doesn't drink it out anymore.

So yeah, when you're in my shoes, you get that Joja store-bought crap out of Shane's hand, and you brace yourself for the incoming lash out.

The first fractions of seconds are always those to look closely into most. It's only a glimpse, but before the scowl slips on like a well-worn boxing glove ready to strike, there is always this open page I learned I needed to decipher as quick as I could.

Tonight, it's heartbreaking. When I peck his forehead- doting big sibling habits die hard, even when you're actually the youngest of the pair- the eyes I catch looking at me are so confused and bare of any emotion, except for the sorrow that goes beer-soaked tears, it pangs. I get used to the breakdowns, working in the fields I do when I'm off the farm's, but it's not the same when it's a friend.

When I straighten back, offensive beverage in hand, it's already gone in a flinch, away from the empty space behind the chair and onto the table, as he snarls.

"Wha- giv'me back- 's mine!" I don't know how much he drunk before he met up with me, but from the slurring, it's a Lot. A season and a half into sobriety. That's harsh.

I ignore him and walk behind him, pondering where to put the beer for now.

"Y-you can't just do that! It's my booze I got with m'money, not some- who d'you think you are?-" He sputters indignantly, angry tears fewer than the sad ones but still there. He tries to turn around and grab behind his back, but the wild movement is way off and only gets the chair to nearly topples down. I rush in time to stabilize it, and profit off the moment to set a strong hand on his shoulder.

"I can just do that, 'cus it's my house I got with my money, and I think I'm your pal who knows when you've had enough. Dude, I trust you to be an adult, but minutes before, you were already so torched I had to keep your neck upright so you didn't faceplant into the table, and you nearly just kissed my floor good evening. Not to mention you clung to my arms the whole way from the little entry stairs to the kitchen because, quoting, 'If I don't I'll fall in the hole and won't get up'."

I turn to the fridge again, going to open it, before I think better of it. Likely enough, we'll both forget it was there in the first place, it'll stink up my fridge- it's Joja's- and it'll be money out of Shane's pocket for nothing. I set it on the counter, with the rest of the pack. He'll put it to cool down when he's back to Marnie's. Or he won't, probably. 

That's not a worry for now.

When I caught up with him, it was a few feet below my doorstep; he'd probably slipped up trying to climb the three steps up to it, and settled for it. He was nursing that same can, muttering to himself, head down, curled up on himself. Except for that leg sticked out, he probably hurt it when he fell, I'll have to look at that and work on it if it's too swollen. Hopefully that'll spare us from a visit to Harvey's.

Bad memories. Not mine, and it's warm and not raining outside, but. Déjà-vu.

Anyways, he looked the picture of "help I've fallen and I can't get up- and even if I can I won't because Fuck You", and it's been a hassle to have him cooperate. But when I asked if he wanted to leave, he shook his head with a fervor no somnolent drunk should have. That resulted in a lovely streak of vomit down the wall right next to the door. That's also for later. If Eryza doesn't lap it up. Ew. This cat's never predictable.

Now, he's staring at his hands, sitting at my table, contemplating something too far down for me to see- or maybe just zoning out with a sleeping brain. Then he mumbles. "Sorry."

I get back to the table and sit at arm's length across of him. "Nah, 's okay. I don't mind being a helping hand or touchy-feely, must be the frog-eater in me. Not for the helping part." I'd chuckle but my quip falls on deaf ears.

I go to put my hand over his. When he doesn't blink at it, I try and shake a reply out of him, gently. He startles and hawkeyes our joined fingers. When he's finally looking at me, I raise a single eyebrow. He doesn't say anything, but when he pulls back his arm, I let him. We both straighten up, and it's hard to keep up the eye contact.

"So…" There's a heavy air on us. Suddenly, like the last year didn't happen, we're sitting a stride away of each other, and yet it feels like he's all the way back to the forest, looking down at waves.

"Do you want me to do something?" I bend myself a little closer to him, not moving otherwise.

He puts his head in his hands, shivering. Can't tell if it's the AC or his system kicking the alcohol out, or itself, in stress. I think I hear something, but it might as just be his shuddering breath.

"Shane" I insist, voice level, not pressing. "I need words. I want to help, I truly don't mind, but I need words to know what to do." He's never shown signs of going nonverbal before. If he does, I'll improvise. Until then… I need words.

Time ticks slowly as we wait. Then, with great effort and deep fatigue, he drags his palms up from under his nose to his temple, spreading some snot and wet tears across his face from his scrunched shut eyes. Lips trembling but finally showing, that attempt to let out a sound that's not too garbled. He coughs, sniffles a bit, breathe in again, sounding like a sick dog, and blows through gritted teeth before his jaws go slack. Eyes still closed, he whispers, and I have to lower myself some more toward his crouched form to catch it.

"Can I get something to drink…?" His voice is hoarse.

The demand could be comical, if we were into sour humor. And we usually are. But right now, we're not finding the joke in the lines. I stand silently, and as I walk to the fridge again, I let my hand brush his shoulder- same spot as before.

I take a minute to choose, look into the pantry. When I'm back at the table with my items of choice, he's still sitting there, his cheek is cushioned on his arms, face hidden from view. His shoulder, except for the occasional tremor, rise and fall in rythm with his snores. Breaks my heart to interrupt that, but not really. Hangovers are mean bitches with the sharpest nail art on the blackest of boards.

"Psst, dude. C'mon." I rustle his hair backward. He hates when I do that, says it tickles, and it makes him sneeze. So I obligatory do it once a day if I can. Let's say today's my late quota for the last four days I haven't seen him.

He gruffly tells me to kindly refrain from such pleasantries, and raise bleary eyes back up at the table. I can also guess he tried to bat a hand at me, but his coordination is off and he slaps himself lightly on the ear. Then he glares bewildered at his hand for a few seconds, obviously insulted. I profit of this moment to grab a small basin from under the sink, on second thought.

When he brings his attention back to me, I'm sitting again. Between us, a jug of fresh milk from this morning, a small sack of peppers, and a juice carafe sit aside a green glass bottle. There's also some bread, mostly for me to munch on. Because, hmmm dough. He squints at it all, especially at the bottle. Probably trying to read the label.

"Yeah no, didn't get you one of my best wine, not sorry."

"Hot pepper… juice?" He looks at the actual peppers next to it. "With actual peppers?" And then I get the squint too.

"Hmph, I know you like your elongated hell tomatoes, man, what can i say."

At that, a feeble snort.

I decide that it is the highlight victory of my soirée.

"Welp, have at it." I gesture to the half-liter liquor glass right by his left.

He fumbles with the drinks and some splashes around, but I lay back on my chair, arms crossed, letting him do his thing. While I don't hold back from growing downright doting on him when I got to- or even when I don't- I don't see how more devotion right now would be not smothering. He can break my fancy glass cups if he wants and spill my milk, so long he doesn't cut himself or cry over it.

Now, you could be thinking that plain water would have done the trick just fine, if not better, in rehydrating him. Here's the thing, though; going from booze to tasteless liquid, for Shane, that's a sure way to puking his heart out. And I'd rather not have us deal with an acid bile throat burn on top of near alcohol poisoning. Sorry to not spare you the squeamish details, but his oesophagus is pretty sensitive ever since that stomach pumping back at the clinic. Hot fiery hell fruits he can do just fine, with relative moderation and hydratation- hence the milk and juice- but liquor bursting its way back from his guts? Nuh uh. 

It had taken lots of coaxing, but he'd explained the plain tastes, or lackthereof, were very hard for him to deal with, especially when contrasting with strong ones like beers and whiskeys. I'd shackle it to gustative hypostimulation, but I don't know enough about him that way to say. He'd said sparkling water was a good compromise.

But I don't have sparkling water, because I do not like suffering.

I might buy a pack for when he visits though.

And I do know a handful about him already. Shackle that to perceptiveness and a stubborn streak on top of a year and so long camaraderie.

And having a certain uncontrollable fear of failing to act quick the next time coped with by accumulating information and patterns compulsively.

I shake my head to focus on the present again. He's switched from juices to soaking bread in milk to eat it small portion after small portion. He pauses in mid-bite when he catches me staring. He's still hunched on himself and red-faced and a tad bloated. His cheeks are drying and he's blown his nose. I smile calmly. Worst of the storm passed, unless I screw up and blow it.

"Ywou wan' chom'?" He offers a dripping piece of bread. In moments like this, when he's sobering but not quite, the resemblance with Jas are unmistakable. The glint in his reddened eyes that open wide, and his blank-but-not-quite wondering expression, it's all here to paint a scrutinizing but vulnerable picture of tired but bright minds.

"Nah thanks. You done with that milk?"

"...Sure." He eyes it, wary. He knows where this is going, and he doesn't like it. I take the drink off the table, and his gaze follows my movement until I bring it to my lips.

He frowns. A silent warning. 

And as I lock onto him with a dead stare, not blinking a millisecond, I down the rest of the 2 liters jug in three, five gulps. I even take the time to lick my new mustache away, and close my mouth with a click of my tongue.

His expression is the macabre marriage of beffudled horror and pure affliction, disgust if you will. The face of someone who doesn't hate milk, but has grown out of it enough to not be able to live off the stuff like the brave souls I'm apart of. And probably with reason, as I actually can't, like most 20+ years old, digest the liquid in large amount. But I smile like a smug cat, perfectly content.

Cats really can't digest milk once adults, it's all social mythos.

We silently judge and fuck with each other like that for a while more, as more time passes, until the room's elephant gets it all humid with its prancing around. Enough that tears and nervous sweats start again, for no apparent reasons but the residual anxiety from the whole chain of events that led to this.

"I think we should talk about this."

--- to be continued.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

This COVID

Unfortunately, the nurses and doctors are the ultimate victims and the worst part of the disease is their PTSD.

They, like most military, police, firefighters and EMT, sign up to risk their lives to HELP and SAVE others.

And they can't. This disease isn't intended to but is a by-product or side effect to cause them their own destruction of self, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.

We have a website set up for them for their mental health -- it wasn't active.. Tree just activated it for y'all.

I apologize for that. So many people are calling them heroes and trying to lift their spirits and it is hard for them.

Like y'all...

Picture this...

Standing in a mass grave, trying to find a body still alive you can save... Help.. A mass grave... So I'm talking hundreds of dead bodies and then y'all be all parade and smile and have fun.

They're too busy trying to find a way to help. Trying to find that one breath from a body in that mass of bodies piled knee high.

They look up "oh them jets..." Same time that happens more bodies are being thrown down in that mass grave So they waist high...

By then them Jets have left just a cloud of memory

It doesn't help... Then they chest high with dead bodies... And they're getting buried alive trying to find a way to help.

Do you see what I'm saying? Can you feel that?!

Then they like man I gotta get outta here before I die myself, being buried alive....

Then who can help them? Is there someone strong enough to pull them out, to SEE THEM before the bodies are piled over their heads??

Doctors and nurses have committed suicide. Because they can't handle it.

Because what has happened... Is this is like a reverse WWII... Hospitals are now Nazi Concentration Camps. And the nurses and doctors are the Nazi just watching every one die.

(Note this is an EXAMPLE for the mind to grasp understanding -- i am not stating the doctor nor nurse ARE Nazi. I am merely making a reference to WWII and gas chambers and so on so people can get the visual understanding of the power of COVID and the pain of people that are opposed to Nazi. When she said "This is Real" it is where my mind went -- to the Holocaust which i know a lot about. I studied it on my own many times in my life. To understand how one person could take over the world. I did. In high school, my Oklahoma History teacher even took away my books because i would ask way too many questions about killing of Native Americans and i would say "but how--" and she said that i had a problem with focusing on the wrong thing and i said "but its happening in our world today!! Politicians and Governments!!" She took away the stack of books i had checked out on WWII and took them to the library and i followed her like pulling her jacket and shirt to stop her. She told the librarian I wasn't allowed to check out anymore books like that because I was a teenager and had unhealthy worries in the world. I burst into tears. "Obviously i have to save the world Because of people like you who won't take it seriously!! You're a Hitler yourself!! And you! I'll talk to you tomorrow!!" I spat to the teacher then librarian. And took off to my last class of the day. The Librarian know who i was and how i had spent hours in the library everyday during lunch and had told her how i said i wanted to compare WWII to the way Native American were treated in Oklahoma. And she printed a list of all the different kinds of books i checked out. Including kindergarten picture books for my own enjoyment. And the teacher apologized. She asked if i wanted to apologize to her for calling her Hitler. I said "not yet" eventually I did. In front of the entire class with an entire one and one eighth of a page of written materials comparing and contrasting her to Hitler and people we read about. I said "in conclusion, she may been an Army woman helping people make long disateraous of what they call walks. Of what i call pilgrimages, across many of what we now know are states, but not to be in charge but to be a comforting vessel during maritime war. A war that was unnecessary on water as it was on land and that is my meaning of using water words instead of land Because indeed i think she is a person we can trust but she may also be one of those people to set off a cannon to a far away ship until she finds out the truth of who is in it. But she certainly isn't a Hitler or someone that would order Native Americans to do the undeeded... She would be one of those to walk aside all Native Americans, help pass out blankets and medication. And so as she has apologized to me for firing up that cannon while I was away at sea to do ky research of course, i shall apologize to her for being upset she did and calling her the worst name possible. Which wasn't bitch. Nor ass hole." 10th grade, y'all.)

It is the worst possible place for a nurse or Doctor that signed up to be a comfort and to SAVE lives to be. The worst possible place.

And i can't help them... There is on the now activated website -- there is a place where they can request military services to come in and relief our nurses and others on the front lines, including police.

You just merely request how many and of what capabilities you need. So if you need just CNA (our hugest amount) or RN or PA or DR or so on and so forth.

They have their own pay scale thus allowing the people being substituted for to receive a special type of paid leave. The military can stay in one place at one time up to 9 weeks.

So also a rotation of 9 weeks on. 9 weeks off.

I apologize i thought it was already set up and available for all. But apparently things wanted to be done differently to try it and see how it works.

Now first is HOSPITALS. Basically if your name has the word Hospital in it. Then you're available. BUT you must have an EMERGENCY ROOM (ER) to qualify.

Now systems... Like Lovelace in Albuquerque has like 4 or 5 ER departments. So they go to the MAIN hospital first Then two weeks after rotate in at say the Heart Hospital then after two weeks the Woman's Hospital then a smaller so on and so forth.

Presbyterian, would begin at MAIN then go to Kirkland then so on and so forth.

This way if someone doesn't want to be treated by military. They have options of seeing regular doctors at the main stem branches.

Also it doesn't have to be a 100% but it can be a 25% so 25% of people take off for 9 weeks. Then another 25% take off for 9 weeks. And so on... So you'd have use of the military for 36 weeks.

It is a charity service.

I recommend that y'all cut hours. So a 40 hour nurse goes go 20 hours -- but stays at full time pay and benefits.

As part of our program, the healthcare and other workers MUST remain fully paid while taking time off. Otherwise we cannot assist.

It is for their hearts, their souls and their tears that we supply such a charity. Thus we cannot create more tears, more heartache nor more stress for these people.

So when making plans, hospital executives, please do keep that in mind.

Also for hospitals that refuse to relieve their workers, we have a system set up so that a nurse/doctor/etc can find a suitable replacement of higher quality according to paper. Similar but more advanced to the system that is used to place substitute teachers to teach hundreds school children per one jr high or high school day. And if the hospital rejects the substitute, then we have a system set up to sue the hospital on behalf of the staff. This system is only provided when a main hotspot refuses help.

Such as NYC. However NY has accepted thousands of National Guard already and Idk what exactly is occurring there but we have many side hospitals set up there.

So this is Never Before Seen shit since the Native American's Massacres (that's why i kept getting in trouble in Oklahoma History... The word Massacre.. Dude... I wasn't gonna pretend it didn't happen, Land O´ Lakes, where's our Indian Lady? The farmers didn't kill her, you did. -.-) and definitely not seen while we had this great amount of technology available to all.

So never before seen shit is gonna occur. I'm like yeah this is what will work professionally. And if they can't come up with something better and reject me, then I'll sue and ill win because they don't care and we got documented workers all over social media crying their eyes out.

She is the first African American I've posted but I've posted at least 4. Crying nurses. And i skip over a lot. I keep scrolling past a lot. I scroll past more than Y'all know that i Don't mention.

But her... She made me want to cry just like all the others. And Just like the others, i had dry eyes. Because we worked and worked and worked till we were all bawling our eyes out, taking heart medicine, whether like mine or just for heart burn. Even the little kids. I can't cry anymore. We made the solution for what and when the emergency pandemic would occur.

Hospitals have lost people due to suicide.

It is now time for me to step in. Or we will not have a doctor or nurse that is both alive and recognizable, they will be destroyed -- inside out -- starting with their hearts of mind.

I have had PTSD due to death of a stranger. I was only 18. And i hated myself for over 10 years.

So im gonna break out one day and call you all stupid for attempting to heal evil.

Because that was what I needed. And no one ever told me. And i got back lash. And i know that every single nurse and doctor that was working as hard as they could -- they needed to vent and hate. And i could be that person.

I smiled. I checked in. "Do they still hate me?" Yes "Good"

I know it helps a heart be healthy to have a place to throw hate. And i knew i would be safe from harm. While hate was thrown at me.

Then i took away me as that object of hate. And still healthcare workers are suffering and they're killing themselves. (They'll get to heaven if they deserve. A nice little break for them. Then they will come back when our other dead does. If they are deserving, if Earth is where they Belong. Otherwise they went directly where they Belong for Eternity)

So a quick fix band aid isn't it. It is as far as we predicted - a reverse WWII.

the sick going in... And causing innocent pain.

Instead of the innocent going in and dying by the professional purposely killing them.

This is the complete opposite.

Jack told me "quit hating on these nurses and doctors!"

Because i would scroll past and say "these fucking nurses. Dam it"

I'm not hating them. I'm hating their situation. I'm hating their inability to cope. Their inability to cope is because their inability to cope is due to their deep humanity... It is a character flaw. It is a curse and a blessing. It is the deepest and most difficult of work to breech that muddy waters, dig deep and find a bridge to drag up and build, there is one there in their souls.. But it is buried deep under much chocolate and flowers and all things good...

Unfortunately while being buried under dead bodies its nearly impossible to fix that bridge. Find that way to overcome the desperation, the HORROR their job has become

Even taking a break can sometimes not help... Sometimes it doesn't. But we include self care and encouraging messages from our military teams that substitute while the people take their time off.

Military are far more apt to be able to deal with dead. Military teams sign up knowing they must kill at certain times. They have a different view of death. They accept it and understand it.

A nurse or Doctor they fight it, that is their job. That is their souls and every hope they have in the world is to save lives.

Military, their job, is to make the world better.

Right now, military is just a better fit.

It's different types of brains. It is just different.

And I am sorry. And unfortunately I do know. I have killed a lot of people by hand, kidnappers caught in the act. I killed Pablo Escobar. Then I got amnesia. And I loaned my friend $500 to bail her boyfriend out of jail. It ended up in a suicide of someone he ratted on. I never got over that. It took a very long time. He was a criminal, yes. But I just never got over that loss of life. If I had never bailed him out... That one guy would still be alive.

So I am very sensitive and very understanding of these healthcare crying and not handling their jobs and killing themselves.

I fully understand it. So yes I will sue on behalf of staff that cannot get relief. I will fight and punch until those hospital executives come up black and blue saying "ok im sorry im sorry we can have substitutes and pay full prices for our staff to stay home and rest"

I may have forgot myself... Prior to age 15... But I remember since then. I know how I have suffered and why.

So I am extremely complex to know and understand.

It doesn't matter if you understand or trust me.

You must care and take a leap of FAITH and not one of suicidal consequences, hospital executives.

Because I understand being buried under dead bodies that I feel responsible for. Hating myself. For something that was never my fault and something I did to be nice. Naïve. I fully understand.

And its revolting, now looking back all I put myself through.

And I swore one day... I swore and I swore. I promised myself. One day im gonna use this all for good. That I can forgive myself.

I already did. I realized I'm not the one that needed to be forgiven. And I'm okay. I'm doing great.

But I remember and I will never forget those sleepless nights... The intense fear I had of myself and of doing anything for any reason. I was terrified. What if I go to the store and I effect someone?

What if I get in a car wreck and hurt some one?

I was terrified. Had I not healed thanks to JJFU. Some one I knew and trusted making guns and I said to him everyday for weeks "how can you make guns knowing someone could be hurt? Don't you think you will feel responsible if someone wrote to you and said a kid was killed with one of your guns? An innocent child playing by accident?"

He said "let me get back to you"

And one day he simply said "i can't control what other people do. If they don't lock up their guns or weapons and ammunition seperate. I can't control what a kid does. I hope no one ever gets hurt wrongly and unjustifiable with a gun i produce and make by hand. But, Sabrina, i can not control what other people do. And it isn't my fault what happens after the guns leave my hands and enter another's"

And this air i had been holding in since I was 18 years old just went out of my chest. And i started crying. And crying and i cried for days.

And he said "why are you keep crying? Who are you crying for?"

And I said "i am crying for ME"

"But why?! What did you do to someone so bad?!"

"Cause I hated myself for something I couldn't control.I hated ME. I refused to Love Me. I refused to Trust ME. And now I can cry for me because of what I Lost because I was an ignorant fool, to care too much beyond my control."

3 years later my friend was murdered. I could had prevented that, too. But I didn't get PTSD. Instead i chose to love him and be proud of him. And love us both for doing what was best for us.

I have both the obituary of David Galloway and Justin hanging in my kitchen. One gave me PTSD. One could have. I look at them both. And I say "I love me. But I can love you two and you can love me because I never wanted either one of you to be hurt"

Or I'll walk by "I can imagine you two are fine where you are today. Sorry I'm busy. But I hope you're happy and okay"

One is Zulululu and one is Human. The Zulululu, I got PTSD. He was a selfish drug addict that killed himself leaving behind two kids and a wife just because he didn't want to go to jail. The other was murdered and the last time I saw him, he asked to live with me. The latter should caused my PTSD. HE DESERVED MY PTSD.

But I didn't.

So military is better equipped to handle what is occurring in hospitals. Nurses do need time off even if the military does just set up new temporary hospital

Healthcare workers NEED treatment for what they have seen and gone through.

And I will fight for every single one to get the help they deserve and the time off they need.

Because I know they deserve it. I know they need It. I know how dangerous it is to overlook a simple day in the life of what they have had in the last few weeks.

Throwing them parties. Its kind, and it's sweet.

But it doesn't help anything, it doesn't help anything when the anguish and the PTSD has already set in. Sometimes it makes it worse..

So yeah I get pissed off they're not being helped and it comes out wrong.

So now its time to do it right.

This nurse asks y'all to stay home.

So y'all tell her you will if you will, tell her you can't because you got to go to work and you tell her where (like Gas Station, not the whole address) and y'all be responsible for you and your actions..

We can't control the world. But we can work together to make it better.... Right...?

I think so.

Or we're all gonna die trying.