#a guard got punched and then stomped on by some old chinese guy the other day

[alexandrium]

my bf defeated some old man's transphobia by going "she says she's a girl and I don't care enough to think about her past that." the guy responded "okay then"

anyway this was after them having to field reports about this woman bc she's a bitch who screamed at a dealer and called him the n word with a hard r and then went to scream to security about him and how "n words" are disgusting and it resulted in her being perma barred. and then that specific convo happened bc she tried to walk in again and my bf saw her and recognized/saw her immediately bc he says she's insanely tall and has a really strong and defined and distinctive jaw.

[hailbop1701]

Welcome back to Prompt Wednesday everyone! We have prompt #42 chosen by @fandoms-and-sunshine!

Fandom: Almost Human

Type: John Kennex X Reader

Whiskey Business

Word Count: 2,424

Okay so this was supposed to be crack-ish but it ended being pure angst. 👀😅 I hope ya'll like it and please don't mind the typos I have no beta for these! Please note the reader is a paramedic in this and I don't know what they do day in and out. So if I got things wrong or it sounds a little off I'm sorry! I also wanted to say thank you to those who are Paramedics/EMS and firefighters. You guys do so much and I feel you should be recognized more often!

-H❤🖖

The day had been long and exhausting both emotionally and physically. Huffing out a frustrated breath still pent up on adrenaline and anger you took another big swig of whiskey. The bottle was half gone and you gave up on using a glass a while ago. Lifting the bottle you took another swig hoping to wash out the nasty taste that day’s events left you with. 

Your day started out like any other. It was rather dull until a call came in for a bad car accident downtown. You and your partner took the call and made it record time, 

“Traffic laws don’t apply to us,” your partner Jinnie tried to convince you as she hopped over the median strip. The rig jangled and bucked but was otherwise unharmed, you couldn’t help but laugh at her insanity and roll your eyes. 

“Marcus is going to kill you one of these days!” you chuckled thinking about your boss who wore a permanent scowl. Jinnie smirked and winked like she knew a funny joke and couldn’t wait to tell you the punch line, “Marcus and I have an understanding!” she giggled. You wrinkled your nose and shook your head, “Nasty Jin, just no,” 

She cackled as she made a sharp left turn; outside the rig, horns blared and honked, curses were thrown at you from afternoon commuters out hunting for a quick lunch. “Hey don’t knock it until you’ve tried it,” Jinnie said wickedly. You let out a pained groan and made a dramatic gagging sound, 

“Never gonna go there Jin, Marcus reminds me of my uncle Artie, who by the way is one pill away from the nuthouse, “ you said bracing your hands against the dash as the ambulance screeched to a halt at the call. The intersection held four smoking damaged beyond repair cars. One of which was overturned with blood coloring the windshield. Jinnie threw open her door tossing a “Call for backup” over her shoulder. 

Picking up the radio you made the call ordering more ambulancs and for police to hurry their collective asses up. Looking up you saw Jinnie climbing into the overturned car with her kit. Cursing you saw the crowd getting bigger and pushing their way closer to the scene. Tossing your radio to the side you kicked open your door the rest of the way-

The doorbell rang bringing you back to your dingy apartment. Safe, alive, and curled up on the couch clutching onto a now almost empty bottle like it was a lifeline. The doorbell rang again repeatedly like the person in the hall was trying to play chopsticks with the ringer; hissing in annoyance you set the whiskey bottle down noisily on the glass coffee table and stumbled toward the door. Blinking away the cotton and shaking the blurriness away you reached your front door without too much incident. Staring at the doorknob intently for a few seconds you waited until there were at least three of them, only then you decided to guess which one was the real one. 

Swinging the door open you blinked and glared at the moronic soul who dared disturb your grief-induced drinking binge. There stood John Kennex holding two large bags in his hands; you knew John easily enough. The two of you would run across each other often at scenes, whether they were accidents or not so much. You were actually one of the ones who kept John alive on the way to the hospital after the raid. That had been a bad day, just as bad as this one was. He contacted you again sometime after he woke up from his coma, the two of you have been hanging out and getting closer ever since. 

John pressed his lips into a thin line the both of you silent and appraising each other, 

“Are you sober?” 

you scoffed at the dumbass question, with a roll of your eyes you responded like any other time he’s asked you something dumb. You gave him the most smart-ass reply your whiskey drenched brain could come up with at that moment.

“I’m moderately functional,” 

John breathed out a heavy sigh catching the strong whiff of alcohol and depression coming from you. “I’ll take that as a no,” he muttered pushing his way into your apartment, you scowled at his back as he disappeared into your kitchen. 

“Please come right in,” you slurred dramatically bowing, gesturing for your imaginary friends in the hallway to join you. Slamming the door shut you carefully work your way to where John was rummaging around in your cupboards, you mumbled obscenities under your breath and made your way back to the living room where your bottle sat waiting for you. 

It was gone, “John what the actual fuck!” you whined stomping your taco slipper-clad foot down angrily. John shot you a grimace from the kitchen as he pulled down plates and grabbed forks, “You don’t need anymore, besides there was like a sip left so I drank it,” 

“Dick move Kennex,” you growled flopping down on the couch. The offending man gave you a sad smile, he walked in holding two plates piled high with Chinese food and balanced two bottles of soda under his arms. Pitying the poor struggling man you took the sodas from him so he could set down the plates. Sighing John flopped into the couch next to giving you a cheeky smile, 

“You brought me food,” you mumbled looking at the takeout confused. John hummed cracking open your soda and forcing it into your hands so you get something else in you other than cheap whiskey. Taking an automatic swig of the sugary beverage you winced at the change of pace. 

“Why?” 

Your question threw him off guard a little; fork half-way to his mouth with noodles hanging off of it he looked at you like he was choosing his words carefully. John set his plate down and turned to face you, “Because you’re my friend (Y/N) and you’ve lost somebody. You shouldn’t have to be alone and I’m pretty sure you’re not supposed to be drinking with a concussion,” he said adding the last part offhandedly.  

Your ears still rang and the pounding in your head -now that he’s reminded you- hurt like hell. But that’s not what made you flinch; what you’ve spent hours working to forget was flooding all back. 

The smell of gas unmistakable, your eyes searched the ground and around the other cars as you worked to stabilize a teen girl in an old Prius at the front of the pack. “Is everything okay?” the girl moaned out watching your darkening face, her own expression melting into one of panic. Turning back to her you give her a shaky reassuring smile, 

“Yeah, I just need you to hold still for me, okay?” The girl returned the shaky smile, her lips trembling, tears streamed down her face. You shushed her gently as you put a neck brace on her, “What’s your name sweetheart?” 

“Gwen, my-my name is Gwen,” she croaked, sniffing trying to put on a brave face. You gave her another smile trying to keep the apprehension from your voice. The smell of gas was getting stronger by the second. 

“It’s nice to meet you, Gwen, my name is (Y/N),” 

“I can’t move my legs,” Gwen whimpered struggling, you immediately stopped her. 

“Gwen I’m gonna need you to hold still for me hun,” 

The girl whimpered again in both fear and pain, “I just want to go home,” she cried tears flowing again. You nodded, “I know sweetheart, I know. We’ll get you out soon,” you promised and internally winced. Never make promises. 

Looking over your shoulder you saw Jinnie loading up your rig’s gurney. She looked at you and gestured to your surroundings in question. The lack of other ambulances and police were getting tiresome. You shook your head and gave a shrug; Jinnie huffed and talked into the comm that was on her vest. 

“(Y/N) I can smell gas, is that bad? That’s bad, right?” Gwen sobbed struggling against the steering wheel again. Her legs were pinned and you were going to need the fire department to get her out. Feeling helpless you tapped your comm. 

“Jin, where’s the FD? We’re going to need sand ASAP,” you kept your voice even and without the panic you were feeling. Gwen started breathing hard; the beginnings of an anxiety attack. 

“Gwen I need you to breathe, I can’t have you passing out on me now,” your voice seemed to soothe the girl so you kept going. Taking her hand you talked about anything and everything until her breathing was under control again. The sound of screeching tires and sirens pulled you from a story about your older brother, some firecrackers, and a little too much hooch. You heard Jinnie in the background berating anyone who would stop and listen to her, 

“Where in hell have you been?” her voice carried over the chaos. Looking in the side mirror you saw your best friend and partner shouting at another paramedic, who was shrinking back from the small woman. A firefighter was jogging up to you holding his helmet in place, 

“What do you need?” he asked breathlessly, giving you a flirty smile. Any other time you would have been flattered but right now you were just pissed off. “Sand and her legs are pinned,” 

At your tone of voice, the firefighter shrunk back a little and cleared his throat nervously. Hastily he spoke a few orders into his comm. Peering into the car the man muttered to Gwen that he was going to get her out of there by supper time. ‘Should have been earlier than that,’ you thought sourly. 

“(Y/N) I need your help over here!” Jinnie called waving a hand wildly. Biting your lip you tuned back to Gwen, “I’ll be right back okay Gwen? I’m going to be right over there,” you pointed in the direction of a group of ambulances. Gwen sniffed and nodded watching the firefighter work on pulling the driver’s side door open. 

You were a good twenty feet away when you heard a startled scream. Whipping around you saw Gwen’s car on fire; the firefighter struggled and fought with the car door trying to desperately get it open. 

“(Y/N)!” the girl screamed and before you knew it the fire spread to the cab. Gwen screamed in terror and pain as the fire engulfed the vehicle. You surged forward without thinking to try and help but a pair of arms stopped you from doing any further. Screaming out the girl’s name you elbowed the person who had a hold of you. Before you could run forward you were pushed back by an explosion. 

Landing on your back you looked up at the cloudless blue sky in a daze, someone was calling your name repeatedly but they seemed too far away to understand. 

“-(Y/N), I need you to calm down for me, okay?” 

The touch and sound of John pulled you back gasping. His hand held yours to his chest over his heart, it fluttered but beat steadily under your touch, his breathing even. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged softly as your own breathing slowed to match his. He rattled on about this, that, and the other thing. Your mind started to function almost normally again as he talked about how Dorian kept tuning into Korean radio. 

Tears streamed down your cheeks making him stop mid-sentence, scooting closer to you he slowly wrapped his arms around you. You stiffened in his for the briefest moment before breaking down. 

It was quite sometime later when you finally sat up and rubbed away any traces of tears and snot. “I’m sorry,” you whispered embarrassedly, eyeing the wet patch on his shirt. John waved it away his eyes searching your for any sign of panic or distress, 

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he murmured gruffly, grabbing your discarded soda from the coffee table. You frowned at the offering, ‘When did I put that down?’ you questioned taking the beverage. Uncapping the soda you took a decent swig, the bubbles cleared your head a bit more. John stood and grabbed both of your still full plates and headed to the kitchen. You watched as he put them in the microwave one at a time. His gaze would flit to you every few seconds or so just to make sure you were still okay. 

Getting up you wandered over to him, pulling your sweatshirt tighter around yourself you give him a sad grateful smile. “Thank you,” you had said it so softly that he almost didn’t catch it. 

John pushed off the counter wrapping you into another hug, this one you fully returned. You both swayed to the hum of the microwave the smell of Chinese drifting through the air. John rested his chin on the crown of your head humming softly. “Tiny Dancer,” by Elton John you guessed by the tune. 

You couldn’t help but chuckle at how out of tune he was. “Don’t ruin the song, John,”  you murmured into his neck. His chest vibrated as he laughed, his fingers gently carding through your hair. “I’m not that bad,” he defends half-heartedly. You shook your head and pulled back just a little to raise an eyebrow. Upon seeing your expression John huffed and nodded, 

“I’m that bad,” he agreed. 

The microwave beeped signaling that the food was finally heated up and ready to eat. But neither of you wanted to pull away. Grumbling you glared at the offending machine mentally willing your food to float across the kitchen to where you were standing. When nothing happened you cursed at it instead, 

“Damn, the struggle is fucking real,” you sighed stepping away from John to retrieve your food. Picking up his plate John followed you back into the living room, he grabbed the remote for your TV and flicked it on to an old classic movie. The Jurassic Park theme echoing throughout the room made you smile in nostalgia. 

Sitting down you easily molded yourself into John’s side and for the rest of the night that’s where you stayed. You knew everything was going to be alright, even if your heart still ached for Gwen and the firefighter who you never knew. You accepted that you were going to be upset for a long time because of what happened but you were at least not going to be alone. 

   

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