but I know exactly how it fucking feels to be tired, exhausted in every part of you. how it feels to lash out, hurt people you care about, start to fail at the one thing you've put all your worth into. you are the villain and the victim and the spectator all at once, and beyond that, or maybe in the center of it, you're a crying, hurting child. and you just can't take anymore.

he doesn't wanna die— he keeps grasping at reasons to stay, excuse after excuse. if baran is unfit to run the ED then maybe he has to stay. if dennis can't look after his house maybe he's gotta stay. if duke is dying, well, shouldn't he stay? what if langdon relapses, shouldn't he stay, keep an eye on it? he's clawing at life, clawing at purpose, clawing at the one thing that gave his existence meaning. nothing will ever matter more than what I've done in this hospital. trying to prove to himself he's still needed and coming up empty.

so no, he doesn't wanna die. he just doesn't wanna be here anymore. he doesn't wanna be anywhere, anymore. you don't wanna die, it's never about that. you just don't want to exist. you want it all to stop, and oh, it never, ever does. I'm tired of feeling like you can't get ahead, I'm tired of feeling like I'm drowning every day, I'm tired of all of it.

so, so, so, so tired. anger, grief, stress, anxiety. at the root of all of those, at the root of even the most explosive emotions, especially the most explosive emotions, is fatigue. fatigue that inhibits everything else, every ability to function, leaving you running on fumes. emotions dysregulated, self-control spiraling, self-worth in the trash. (have you ever thought about hurting yourself?) that haunted look in his eyes that answers yes, all the time.

i want a fic where mel recoils in personal conversations not only because intimate interactions and difficult discussions tend to be uncomfortable for her in general but because she's learned how many people lie just to save face. how many people will blanket the truth just to spare her feelings. how most of the time she lags when expected to respond because the truth and the lies overlap and it causes her to stumble out a less than ideal reply because it's all so loud.

i want a fic where mel expects it from everyone and thus, when frank trails after her like a puppy on her very first day in the pitt, she knows not to believe a word out of his mouth. twenty-nine years have gone by, summers and winters and some of the worst events in mel's life, and she can't show bias towards frank just because he's handsome and skilled and attentive.

but the problem that mel discovers is that, no, frank isn't like the rest.

when he sits on the floor with her in the staff lounge, while she's overwhelmed and raking her fingers through crosby's fur, while frank says you're a sensitive person.. this is a.. tough place for sensitive people, all mel can do is stare at him. she thought it'd been a fluke, all the hours before, while they worked side by side, everyone's thoughts folding over one another that he'd been in the mix, too. but there's no extra little voice when he talks, nor after. just silence following his spoken words.

Same thing with the drug test. Lab Tech Montgomery Smith wants to be in that bathroom looking at Frank’s dick even less than Frank wants to go through it. If Frank gets cagey and awkward and apologetic or whatever, it only makes this situation worse, this situation that’ll continue weekly for 5 years. So he takes the wind out of the discomfort. I love it!

Visa said Wednesday that it has embedded its payment network inside of ChatGPT, empowering the chatbot to independently shop and complete transactions on behalf of its user. It means AI agents can not only recommend products but complete the purchase on the user’s behalf, at potentially any merchant that accepts Visa. The payment network’s previous attempts at this technological leap were confined to a single retailer or a small set of enrolled merchants.

Ahhahhahahahhahahahahahhahhaaa.. *deep breath*

AHHHAHAHHAHHAAAA..!!