#stupid paramedic tricks

[ravynfyre]

got a weird thought in my head while trying to sleep tonight... trying to remember which year I went to DragonCon. After trying to logic it out for a while, it suddenly hit me: it had to be 2007. A friend of mine and I marched in the parade in Transformer costumes, and they put us with a squadron of NEST soldiers, which was really awesome... but that first Bayverse movie came out in 2007. So then, of course, I had to see if I could find any pictures, because my Inferno costume was destroyed when my house burned down (irony, yeah? LOL)

YUP! Thank goodness for photo-happy folks on the internet!!!

NEST, Pretender Jazz, and Inferno!

This was also the con I discovered that I could do CPR in the Eowyn Shieldmaiden Dress:

Mine was slightly different: there was a split from waist to floor in the overskirt, but the sleeves were floor length like this one, and I was in a corset. It was... an exciting Evening At The Bree. The guy lived, though. My one and only verified cardiac arrest save where the patient walked out of the hospital on his own two feet. And then after the parade the next morning, I spent literally every waking moment of the rest of the con on duty with the medical team. because I am an idiot and a glutton for punishment.

And monster energy drink can suck a dick.

[allwaswell16]

One Direction fics where a character unexpectedly gets a call from the hospital or must rush to the hospital for another character and end up realizing their feelings as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other fic recs here. Happy reading!

—Louis/Harry—

❤️‍🩹 Own the Scars by @crinkle-eyed-boo

(E, 144k, rehab) Louis has never felt like he was good enough: for his stepdad, for his life-long best friend, for the life he's supposed to want.

❤️‍🩹 Consequences by @allwaswell16

(E, 78k, amnesia au) Two years ago Harry let his powerful family come between him and the love of his life, something he deeply regrets. Louis has tried to move on from their devastating break up.

❤️‍🩹 Feels Like Coming Home by @phdmama

(E, 60k, angst) The last thing Harry Styles expects when he's hanging out at the Someday Cafe in Somerville one rainy October day is for his ex, Louis Tomlinson to walk through the door, but that's exactly what happens. 

❤️‍🩹 where the lights are beautiful by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou

(M, 31k, omega Louis) the accidental bonding a/b/o fic

❤️‍🩹 devil's waltz by nebuloussubject

(M, 23k, canon) a sickfic with a slow burn

❤️‍🩹  Hypotheticals (series) by tomlinsunshine

(T, 15k, friends to lovers) This whole "running away" thing really isn't going as planned.

❤️‍🩹 Stay by rabbithole28

(M, 12k, exes to lovers) Louis was taken to hospital after a car accident. They called Harry letting him know that his fiance was unconscious and in a serious condition. The only problem was, Harry hadn't seen Louis since he walked out of their flat three years earlier.

❤️‍🩹 Wanna Do Nothing With You by whoknows

(E, 9k, canon) The accident happens in the stupidest way possible. One minute Louis is demonstrating a skateboard trick he’d just learned for Lottie, the next he’s waking up in a hospital.

❤️‍🩹 tides thrash inside by ifthat / @lovehl

(E, 8k, a/b/o) "How could I call you when I needed you as far as possible to sever our spatial bond?”

❤️‍🩹 Tight Grip on Reality by roseslotuslouis / @fandomaws

(G, 8k, angels) Louis is called as Harry’s emergency contact after he gets into an accident and they are thrust back into each others lives

❤️‍🩹 Together We're the Greatest by @hellolovers13

(E, 4k, exes) It's not the first time Louis has to stitch Harry back together, but Louis will make sure it is the last.

❤️‍🩹 Twenty Stitches In A Hospital Room by betty_and_i

(NR, 3k, paramedic Harry) H is a paramedic and him and L broke up a few months ago over something stupid which caused them to not talk again. Fastforward L is in a situation that causes someone needing to call the paramedics for him and H is the one to be there at the scene

—Rare Pairs—

❤️‍🩹 We Used To Wait by sunsetmog / @magicalrocketships

(E, 56k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis has an accident, but nobody even knows he and Nick are going out.

❤️‍🩹 some velvet morning, years too late by tintedglasses

(T, 35k, Louis/Nick Grimshaw) Louis wakes up in the hospital with unfinished business at his bedside. Turns out Nick has some unfinished business, too.

❤️‍🩹 I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed

(M, 9k, Zayn/Liam) He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend

[shes-an-oddbird]

Laughing Gas

I have no idea how intense the effects of laughing gas would be and since they are in the open air they probably wouldn't have lasted long, I just thought it would be cute for Nancy and TK to try to wrangle up the giggly boys after that scene ended. Also TK is a very good paramedic, Nancy's just got him beat this time.

Read on AO3

Summary: When Rescue 126 pulls up to the scene to find the air saturated with laughing gas and their team victims of its mild and humorous side effects, Nancy and TK's sibling rivalry makes an appearance as they compete to see who can convince the unruly 126 firefighters to put their gas masks on. Spoilers for 4x06

From the ambulance they can see the water explode into the air. Nancy breaths a sigh of relief and exchanges a look with TK whose grip loosens on the stirring wheel. They got the bomb into the water just in time. It had taken Judd no more than a few seconds after Owen sped away to usher Mateo and Paul into the fire truck and follow behind their captain. Then a minute later Tommy is loading them up too, ignoring the protests of the police and bomb squad. There was no need for them to stay where there was no threat and currently half their team was racing a bomb to the river, Judd filled them in on the way, and Tommy certainly expected they would be of more use there.

“Cap it looks like they’re clear.” Nancy says to Tommy who she can hear moving around in the back of the ambulance. “Should we turn back?”

“No, we’re needed here.”

She glances at TK who shrugs and pulls the bus to a stop next to the engine. To her surprise the rest of the 126 is gathered around the edge of the water, perfectly safe, but laughing? Hysterically laughing. Doubled over, using each other for support kind of laughing.

“Gas masks, kids.” Tommy calls to them.

“Laughing gas.” Her chemistry classes come racing back to her. TK lowers his head to the steering wheel, sniggering as they wait for Tommy to circle around, passing them each a mask.

“There’s no telling how much was created and how long it will take to dissipate, even in the open air like this.” Tommy explains. “TK the engine’s got gas masks for everyone on board?”

“Yeah Cap, I’m on it.” TK jumps out, mask securely in place, and jogs over to the rig to unload supplies.

“Nancy, help me round them up.” Tommy says and her tone is something between concerned, amused and exasperated. Today was really turning out to be quite the day.  

Wrangling four grown men who are hyped up on adrenaline and laughing gas is no easy feat. Tommy has to focus her attention on Owen, who needs to be checked out after it becomes clear he had jumped from the fake ambulance and rolled down the hill. She and TK herd the rest of them to the truck, convincing them to sit or at least lean against it while they distributed masks.

They’re laughing to much too much to be of any help and the sedative effect of the gas is starting to take affect making their limbs slow and heavy. She kneels in front of Mateo, who blinks a few times before he realizes it’s her.

“I can’t see your face.” Mateo frowns, reaching for her mask. She leans back out of reach, and he pouts at her like a child. “But I like your face.” He whines and then laughs.

“I like your face too, but I have to wear this and so do you.” She tells him as she attempts to slip the mask over his head.

“That’ll make it even harder to see you.”

“Please, if you wear it, we’ll match.” Its stupid but it does the trick. He grins at her and willingly puts the mask on. It takes a minute or so but eventually the glossy look in his eyes starts to fade.

“Better?” She asks.

“Much.”

“Good.” She gives one of his hands a squeeze before turning her attention on TK. He’s handed off one mask to Judd who’s not got enough coordination at the moment to put the mask on himself. The other he’s holding out to Paul who is still laughing so hard that every attempt to take it fails.

“How’s it going?” She asks, trying not to laugh herself.

“Shut up, we can’t all flirt our way to cooperation right now.”

Nancy rolls her eyes and moves to help Judd who has started recounting, with joy, the feeling of speeding down the hill and slamming the engine into the ambulance and saving the day. “I have to tell Gracie.” He says the moment Nancy removes the mask from his hands. He goes for his phone which he miraculously pulls from his pocket on the first try. His slowed movements allow her to take the phone before he can dial.

“You can call her once you put this on.” She reasons, holding the phone away from him and the mask towards him. He looks between the two, his laughter settling into concentration. She could practically hear his mind working.

He wanted to talk to Grace, to talk to Grace he needed the mask, therefore, he needed the mask first. He takes it again and his desire to speak to his wife grants him the coordination to put it on. Nancy holds the phone hostage a moment longer. She has no doubt that the man could dial Grace’s number even in his sleep but she could save him the embarrassment of a misdial just in case by waiting for the effects to wear off.

“How are you doing that?” TK complains. Paul is still maskless and laughing. All of TK’s attempts to put the mask on him are intercepted by Paul, who even in his loopy state of mind is strong enough to stop him and has now made a game of it.

“As awful as it sounds you have to manipulate them.” Nancy takes the mask and holds its out to Paul. “Come on dude, imagine if we send Marjan a selfie of us all in gas masks.” She suggests. The team had taken to trying to outdo Marjan’s selfies that she sent from landmarks and picturesque views during her road trip and while their last attempt had maybe been in poor taste, Nancy can’t see anyone objecting to one after the day had been successfully saved.

“You’re right, can’t believe she’s missing out.” Paul exclaims, taking the mask eagerly and sliding it over his head.

Nancy shoots TK an I-told-you-so look. “See.”

“You suck.” He shakes his head, not mad but clearly irritated at being bested not once or twice but three times. “I’m going to check on my dad.”

“Sore loser.” She calls after him.

“Showoff.”

[asirensrage]

Empty Halls to Echo - Part 4/Finale

Title: Empty Halls to Echo - Part 4 Rating: M Pairing: Billy Russo x OC Warnings: Stalking. Obsession. Suggested non-consensual voyeurism. Murder. Potential blackmail. Mention of manipulation. Breaking and entering. Blood. I wasn't kidding about the murder. Summary: Billy plans his next move...and Grace makes hers.

Notes: HEED THE WARNINGS.

previous / masterlist

He’s going to fire her. He has to. He can’t have her working at Anvil when every time he sees her he wants to either bend her over a desk or get her on top of one. So, he’s going to fire her…and have an NDA drafted and ready when he offers to take her out, to take care of her. He doesn’t know what she’s open to, but he’s ready for anything. If he has to pay to keep her, he will. 

Billy tries to think of ways to phrase it, of what will be the right thing to say to get her to agree while he watches her on the security feed. She’s in the same stairwell, and he’s tempted to go and see if she’ll sing but he doesn’t. He’s scheduled a meeting with her this afternoon. He can wait. He just can’t stop thinking of that night. 

It was one of the worst nights of his life, and yet one of the best. He killed Frank. He killed his best friend in order to keep everything around him running. He couldn’t lose that. Not when he just found her. Not when he needs it all to keep her. It was happenstance and luck that had him running into her later that night at a bar. Need for a distraction from the blood on his hands, need for her and to find out if she’d make those same sounds he’s practically memorized drove him and before he could even question it, he had her in his bed. It was better than he could fucking imagine…except the part where she was gone when he woke up.  

He pauses, watching as someone stops her on the stairs. There’s no one else there. Billy’s not stupid. He knows the men he hires. He knows what they’re capable of and this man looks angry. Before he can get moving, to help if the man grabs her, she’s already acting…and shoving him down the stairs. His mouth falls open. There’s no way that was an accident. She was too deliberate. His girl just tried to murder one of his employees. He runs for the stairs. 

He needs to get there before anyone else. 

When Billy arrives, she’s still standing in the same spot, watching the man at the bottom platform. She does not look surprised to see him when she looks at him. 

“He slipped,” she says, her voice deadpan. She’s watching him carefully, as if waiting to see his reaction. He stares back, his chest tightening as want floods him. 

“Is he dead?” he asks.

She glances at the body. “Not yet.”

“Hmm.” It’s too open. He doesn’t think she’d appreciate it if he fucked her where anyone could walk in. Even if it’s so tempting. 

The door below them creaks and he watches as she moves, rushing to the bottom where the body is. Her eyes are suddenly wide and he hears her as she calls for help before the door even opens. She looks like she’s about to start crying as she hurriedly tells the person how the man fell, how she tried to grab him but she couldn’t. He moves down quickly, slipping into business mode as he demands they call an ambulance. She turns, clinging to his chest as her shoulders shake as though she's crying. If he hadn’t witnessed the entire thing, he would think it was legitimate. 

He leads her back to his office once the paramedics are gone. Hand on her waist, he guides her up, trying not to give into the urge to pin her against the wall and take her in plain sight. He doesn’t care. She still has blood on her hands and looks like she’s in shock but he knows better now. He knows it’s a trick, that she’s a better actress then he ever would have believed if he hadn’t seen it for himself. She lets him take her so he does. 

When they’re finally in his office, after the door has closed and he signals his assistant to warn him if the cops show up to ask questions, he kisses her. She doesn’t hesitate to kiss him back, bloody hands on his face as she holds him close. His arm goes around her waist, pulling her tight against him as he moves her back, pressing her back until she hits his desk. He wants more. He wants to take her up against the wall, against the window. Something so he can feel her, give her everything as long as she doesn't leave. She can’t leave. He just saw her kill someone. The man was alive but he wouldn’t be, not for much longer. 

Grace shifts just enough that he can move closer between her legs. He should get her cleaned up. Make sure there’s no blood on either of them. He can’t let go though. He doesn't want to stop kissing her. 

“Billy,” she murmurs, pulling away just enough. It gives him access to her neck and her kisses the skin there, intent on leaving a mark. Something to show that she was taken. That she’s his. 

“Billy,” she says again. He ignores it. He slides a hand up her thigh, revelling in the feel of her skin. She’s so soft. Her hand goes to his hair and she suddenly grips it tight and yanks him back. “It’s time to stop.” 

“Why?”

“Because if we don’t wash the blood, people are going to get suspicious. We’re both covered now.”

He pulls back. It’s true. The blood that was on her hands transferred to his cheeks…and he smeared it on her face and neck as he kissed her. He groans. “Fine. But after–”

“After, we talk,” she agrees. 

He lifts his head and looks at her. “You’re mine,” he tells her. He needs it to be clear. He needs her to know. 

She just grins back. “No, Billy, you’re mine.”

taglist: @raith-way  @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

Billy Russo tag: @wheresthesunshinesblog @muchadoaboutcj

[artificialqueens]

Heaven needs to take its time (Jankie) - Mar

A/N: Day 6 of May Trope Mayhem! Love a good 5+1. Also I went way over the suggested word count but in my defense I did write in a hurry, I just have a lot to say sjsjsj. Have some Jankie through the years <3 @duckprintspress

Summary: 5 times Jackie drove Jan to the ER, and one time Jan returned the favor.

Tags: may trope mayhem, rpdr fanfiction, jankie, jackie cox, jan sport, lesbian au, drabble, 5+1, mar, tw injuries

  1.

“He seemed friendly.” Jan pouted and sank into the plastic chair.

“He was barking his head off. Even the owner was backing away.”

“I thought I could calm him.”

“He seemed very calm once he had your arm as a chew toy.”

“Don’t be mean to me, I’m injured!”

Jackie rested her arm on Jan’s shoulders to bring her closer, minding the bandaged arm.

“Does it hurt?”

“A little? I think the Tramadol kicked in, now I mostly feel tingles. The paramedic was so nice, wasn’t she nice?”

Jackie bit her cheek.

“She was charmed, for sure. Smiled the whole ride here.”

“Oh I don't know about that. She would’ve asked me on a date. Because that’s what you do when you like someone, right, Jacks? Ask them on a date?”

Jan stared at Jackie and had the pleasure of seeing her eyes widen in realization. She opened her mouth to speak and—

“Miss Sports, for a dog bite?” the doctor hollered.

“That’s me!” Jan jumped up. “You’ll wait for me here?”

“Yeah. Yes, definitely,” said Jackie, still processing.

“Perfect.” Jan smiled, left a quick kiss on Jackie’s cheek, and skipped into the doctor’s office.

2.

“As far as first dates go, at least this was memorable.”

“Yes, for everyone at the skate rink. You just had to show off your tricks, didn’t you?” Jackie scolded fondly as she redid Jan’s braids, which the doctor had undone to examine the back of her head.

“I was trying to impress you.”

“Oh, I was very impressed. You were willing to get a concussion just to break the ice.” Jackie smiled at Jan’s unimpressed look.

“Har, har. Stupid Denali and her stupid rink discounts. I should’ve taken you to the museum like I wanted to.”

“Next time,” Jackie said as she held Jan’s gloved hands, still cold and damp from the ice.

“There will be a next time?” Jan beamed.

Jackie rolled her eyes.

“Don't act like you have any doubts.”

“Well, I did take you on a pretty stellar date. Don’t know how you’ll top that, Cox.”

“I’ll take you rappelling, maybe break a few bones.”

Jan smiled and then huffed.

“God, how long have we been here? I want to go home and nap.”

“No, you don’t. You may have a concussion, we’ll have to stay up all night just to be safe.”

Jan poked her tongue through her teeth.

“All night, huh? How, oh how will we spend all that time?”

“Chugging coffee and staying very still. No more extreme sports for you for a while.”

“You’re no fun.”

“You’ll find that I’m actually a lot of fun,” said Jackie, staring intently at Jan, who bit her lip. “Another night.”

“Ugh, fine. Tease.”

  3.

“You think they’ll remember me? We haven’t been here for a while.”

“I’m so proud of you, almost a full year without coming to the ER. We should celebrate.”

“Oh, we could go to that little place near the blue thing, remember?”

“Incredibly, yes. Do you want to go tomorrow night?”

“Or today, I’m craving the goulash they have.”

“Let’s see what the doctor says first, okay? I don’t think you should walk for a while.”

They looked at the semi-solid cast on Jan’s sprained ankle, hanging from a hook at the foot of her bed.

“Alright, let’s go tomorrow. It gives me enough time to find an outfit that matches the walker boot. Should I get it in black?”

4.

“Baby, stop moving, please.”

“It hurts,” Jan hissed. She had tried several different positions on the hospital bed but none of them made her broken arm feel better.

“I know, love.” Jackie kissed her forehead and stroked her side. “Want me to call the nurse?”

“He was mean, I’ll just wait for the doctor. She can’t be much longer, right? We’ve been here for like, a year.”

“It’s been two hours,” Jackie laughed. “How will you deal with a cast for three months, my impatient girl?”

“This is so unfair,” Jan whined. “How come you never get injured? Do I have all of our bad luck?”

“I would hardly call ‘climbing the roof to fix a leak and falling down with barely a broken arm’ bad luck. You have your own guardian angel, babe.”

“I’m looking right at her,” said Jan, staring dreamily at Jackie.

Jackie shook her head and smiled behind her hair.

“You get so cheesy at the ER. The medical environment really does it for you, huh?”

“You’re the one who almost cried filling out the admission form.”

“I was justified! It was my first time writing your name as ‘Jan Cox’. A very fitting first time, for this marriage, I’d say.”

“True. We’ve spent so many milestones right here. Think they’ll name a room after us?”

“I think on your tenth visit, they put up a plaque.”

“If I time it correctly, we may spend our first anniversary here.”

“Please, do not. I’m locking away all your power tools the second we get home.”

“You’re bossier as a wife. I kind of like it.”

“Alright, keep it in your pants. With that cast, there won’t be much of anything going on for a while.”

“You’re not thinking creatively! I have three whole months to learn how to use my left hand.”

“Ah, I knew I married you for a reason.”

“Wow, offended. Never mind, you can wait the three months.”

  5.

“Contractions are still seven minutes apart. She’s a week early, but she felt a really strong sharp pain in her abdomen, so we came here directly. Our doctor’s not picking up.”

“Okay, we’ll get you in a room and check baby’s vitals,” the triage nurse said, typing on her computer at light speed. “You said you’re with doctor Pareek, right?”

“Right.”

 “We’ll see if we can get a hold of her and send you to the maternity wing after this. Are you good for walking, mama? Do you need a wheelchair?” the nurse addressed Jan, who was leaning on the check-in counter and taking deep breaths.

“I can walk,” Jan said, gamely following a different nurse down the hall. Dragging their giant overnight bag, Jackie followed past the crowds of patients and the hurried staff.

“How are you feeling, baby?” she asked Jan, as the nurses fluttered around checking everything and tried to call the doctor.

“Nervous. Excited. Scared. Did we bring the birth plan?”

“We brought everything,” Jackie soothed as she pulled out the paper sheets with their meticulous plan, which would go out the window if the doctors found something was off.

Jan gripped it with tense hands and stared at it, though they had memorized it months ago. She looked close to crumpling it, but instead left it on the little table next to her bed and laid back.

She didn't speak or move for a long moment, to the point where it worried Jackie. She wasn’t used to her wife being still.

“Honey?”

“I’m good, I’m just sad about the plan. I really wanted things to go our way for this.”

“Oh,” Jackie smiled and cooed, kissing Jan’s forehead. “We still don’t have a definitive no, my girl. We may still get our doctor and do things like we planned.” Jan looked unconvinced. “And even if we don’t, Jan, God…” 

Jackie didn’t know how to put it into words. How for the past nine months, her entire world had revolved around the health and comfort of the two most important people on Earth, with little room for anything else. So close to the finish line, everything else seemed so trivial.

“As long as I have you two healthy and in one piece, well… there’s not much else I could ask for.”

Jan relaxed at the words, angling up so Jackie would kiss her, birth plan forgotten.

“We’re gonna meet her today,” she whispered with her eyes closed, their foreheads touching.

“Yeah.”

Jackie’s hand found its way to Jan’s belly, like it had every day of the past nine months of impatience and vitamins, sonograms and clothes shopping. The longest nine months of their lives, over in the blink of an eye.

“We’re gonna see you today, baby.”

+1

Jackie barged in the ER with their daughter in her arms, Jan in tow. They ran to the receptionist and didn’t even give her time to welcome them.

“I need my daughter seen, she has a fever.”

“Is she a patient at the hospital?”

“Yes, last name is C-O-X.”

The receptionist typed in the name.

“Diana, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’m gonna need one of you to complete the check-in and the other can go with Diana.” The receptionist flagged down a passing nurse. “Three month old with a fever,” she informed the nurse.

“How high?”

“A hundred and four before we came in,” said Jan.

“Alright, come with me.”

The nurse turned but Jackie looked at Jan in question.

“Go,” Jan said. “I’ll join you in a bit, okay? I’ll be right there.”

“Okay.”

With that, Jackie followed the nurse. Jan watched them until they disappeared into a room.

“Here’s the form you need to fill out,” the receptionist said, her voice soft. Jan nodded, biting back tears now that she was out of Jackie’s sight. “First time in the ER?”

“With Diana, yes. We’d been here a bunch before her.”

“Oh, wait, are you Jan Cox? I have, like, six entries under your name.”

“That’s me,” Jan laughed, almost sobbing now.

“Oh, then that baby’s gonna be just fine. Her mom is made of steel.”

The receptionist’s smile was so kind that Jan wanted to jump over the desk and hug her. Instead, she smiled back.

“Thank you.”

The form filled out and handed over, she followed the receptionist’s directions and found her family in a small room with other parents and cribs. Diana was swaddled inside one, fussy from being sick and away from her moms. Jackie was perched over her, incapable of looking away. Jan laid both hands on Jackie’s shoulders, slowly working the tense muscles.

“They want us to stay for a while, to see if the fever goes down,” Jackie explained. “They gave her some Motrin. She hated every second.”

“Bubble gum flavor’s a scam.”

The conversations of the other families and beeping of machines kept them company as they waited in silence, watching their child.

“Jan?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for being so calm.”

Jackie looked up for a second, finding her wife’s eyes.

“I couldn’t drive or even walk, I just… panicked. Don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been home.”

“You would have taken a deep breath and brought your daughter to the ER.” Jan leaned over to loosely wrap her arms around Jackie’s neck and kiss her temple. “You’re allowed to have a moment, Jacks. And when you do, I’ll be there to take over, just like you do for me. Every time.”

Jackie relaxed into the chair. She brought Jan to sit on her lap and held her waist.

“Besides,” Jan said. “You’ve given me so many rides here, I’m just glad I could return the favor.”

Jackie smiled into Jan’s arm.

“Let’s hope you never have to do it again.”

They went back to watching Diana. Her breathing had evened out and she was falling asleep. Jan curved the need to reach out and touch her by taking Jackie’s hand instead.

“Let’s hope.”

[after-witch]

Title: Buoy [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Title: Buoy [Yandere Overhaul x Reader]

Synopsis: Did you finally get away from Overhaul, just to die in the street?

For request: “can i request overhaul and a darling who doesn’t take care of a medical condition and needs him to resolve it? And can the condition be type2diabetes? I struggle with it and never see it in fic much at all.”

Word Count: 1785

Notes: Yandere, kidnapped reader, medical (needles, blood, medical equipment, diabetes complications)

This was a mistake, this was such a mistake. The words work through your head like sludge, thick and slurry, as you wander aimlessly through the winding, empty alley ways, half-tripping on the concrete and feeling every moment like you’re going to pass out.

You need help. You need him. Did he know you were gone yet? Of course he did, it’s been days. What if he didn’t, and what if you were alone, and you’re going to die out here like this, helpless and stupid? He’ll come and fix you and you’ll be okay.

You can’t even find your way to the street again, can’t even try to get help from a random passerby.

The thoughts fly away as quickly as they come, rendering them useless, and it’s as if nothing concrete can stick to you but an overwhelming feeling of fear.

Fear of dying. Fear of the undone, the unsaid. The fear of knowing the all-encompassing question: Did you finally get away from Overhaul, just to die in the street?

Your vision spins hard and you shut your eyes, willing it to return to normal, willing the world to stop moving. But it doesn’t. You feel drunk and coherent thoughts are too difficult to manage.

You try to call out and your words are muddled; your mouth feels tight and sticky, like there’s peanut butter on the roof and your tongue can’t quite get away. Stumbling, your hand scrapes against brick and your head swims. Your breath comes in shallow pants and buzzing, anxious thoughts are all that exist for you. Am I dying? Will someone help me? Why didn’t I take my medicine? Why did I let myself crash? Will I--will I--will I--?

As your vision blurs and blurs and blackens and your body sinks against the rough brick, you only just make out the dim figure of someone in front of you, can just hear the edges of your name being called from far away, as if you’re underwater.

**

Consciousness comes back slowly, like a thick blanket being lifted from your chest. The sounds are what you experience first. Beeping--monitors. Hushed voices. Machines.

The sensation of touch is next. Your thick clothes (dirty--not like you had anywhere to wash them) are gone, replaced by a thin, scratchy medical gown. A heaviness in your left arm makes you keenly aware of the thudding prick of needles inserted into your veins, of something hard and sticky on your pulse point; both wrists are weighted from cuffs that won’t let you move them far, even if you felt strong enough to do so.

Your eyes open without fanfare and it confirms everything your body has told you. You’re in a hospital. No. That’s wrong. You look to the side, at the still-blurry figure of Overhaul, fussing over a chart with someone else, and you correct yourself: you’re in the clinic. His clinic. At the base. You’re back, and he found you, and you’re… alive.

You blink and blink and when he sees you’re awake, he rushes over, and once he’s close enough your eyes begin to slowly stabilize and there’s a wild, angry, helpless look in his eyes for just a moment that makes your entire body shiver. It’s gone so quickly that you it may have well been a trick of your mind, a trick of your slowly regained vision.

He sits himself down on the side of your bed, glancing between you and the monitors and the man--a white coat, a doctor?--before finally settling on staring right into your eyes. It’s unnerving, even though you’re used to it. It will never stop being unnerving.

“Do you know what happened?” He asks, voice slow and enunciated and matter-of-fact. Like a paramedic, without the training. “Do you know why you’re here?”

Your breath catches. You look around, brain still foggy, searching for answers. You’re in the clinic. And you’re in the clinic because…

“I ran away,” you tell him, voice empty of anything but the facts. You’re recalling things that your unconscious self had blacked out. “And…”  you stare down at your wrists, cuffed to the rails of the medical bed. “I went somewhere… a hostel? Or maybe a motel. Or--I don’t… I don’t know.” You’re not sure if that’s where you really went and the uncertainty of it, the loss of a memory, has you feeling sick to your stomach.  Why can’t you remember?

Nausea starts coming in a thin, sickening wave and you can hear the heart monitor beep faster and faster, feel your breath start to catch, feel your mind start to fall into panic, until his voice interrupts over it all:

“Calm down. Breathe. Calm yourself down.”

And you do breathe. You breathe out hard and stare at his face, grounding yourself with short breaths, until you stop shaking and the monitor sounds more or less normal.

“It’s all right if you don’t remember everything,” he says, and you believe him. It is all right, it has to be. “Just tell me what you do remember.”

You go to lick your lips and wince at how dry they are, wince at the crack in them that hurts when you stretch your mouth.

“I went somewhere and…” You try to think without panicking. You want the memories to come, you will them to come, floaty as they might be. “I was trying to figure out how to get away. Farther away, I mean.”

He nods, and you feel okay, so you continue.

“And then I didn’t… feel good.” The memories feel less fuzzy here, as you recall what happened when you’d escaped.

You’d done… okay with your diet before you were kidnapped, but never close to what your doctor ordered, never enough to get good numbers or feel particularly healthy. Overhaul had put you on a strict diet to manage your diabetes, counting every carb and sugar gram, making sure you got just the right nutrients and exercised just the right amount. You’d become so familiar with the jab of needles and beads of blood and beeping of your blood glucose monitor that it almost become second nature.

The hyper-vigilance worked, true--but it was dehumanizing and controlling and you hated it just as much as you hated him. It was just another way for him to control you, after all, another way for him to assert that he knew what was best.

So the moment you escaped from the underground rooms he’d kept you in, the moment you were sure he wasn’t hot on your heels, you felt the thrilling urge to rebel. And you did. 

You ate things you hadn’t eaten in almost 2 years. (Stealing them, admittedly, but it wasn’t like you had a chance to earn money, locked up in some pristine prison.) Pizzas and desserts, uncaring for what it was and how many carbs it had and how many grams of added sugar were hidden inside the pockets of sweetness. All you knew is that he’d denied you the autonomy to eat what you wanted, and so freedom came with indulgence.

Did you bring a monitor with you when you ran? Did you even think about testing your blood sugar, when your very freedom was on the line? Of course not. And it didn’t seem to matter, at first, not until you started feeling sick and dizzy for days, feeling off and wrong; but with no access to medicine, the easiest way to bring your blood sugar back down was not to eat. But then…

Overhaul’s tapping on the clipboard in his arms brings your mind back into focus.

“You didn’t feel good because you ate terribly, then you didn’t eat at all.” The last words are so pointed and sharp that it surprises you. He rarely talked to you with any acidity at all, but now you could all but feel the cold frustration in his voice. “So, you crashed. Your blood sugar was so low when we found you that…” His eyes narrow above his surgical mask and you’re reminded of the wild look in his eyes from before.

“You could have died.” He holds out the clipboard until the doctor scurries forward to take it, leaving the side of your vision just as quickly. “You would have died, if I hadn’t found you. What were you thinking?”

You start to answer and he raises a gloved hand, silencing you with a single domineering gesture.

“Let me rephrase. You weren’t thinking. No way to monitor your sugar. No healthy snacks to keep your sugar stable throughout the day. No healthy meals to ensure your sugar didn’t spike sky high--which it did.”

You wilt underneath his criticisms, but the restraints on your wrists and the hard bed underneath you give you nowhere to go and nowhere to hide.

He sighs with patronizing pity at your helplessness.

“This is why you can’t take care of yourself, my dear. This is why I keep you with me. This is why I must be strict with you.” He gazes at your arms, at the IVs hooked into them. “Look at what happens when you try to take care of yourself.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, even though it’s his fault, even though you could and should blame him for kidnapping you in the first place. But you just want him to stop being mad. You just want to go back to sleep. You just want to feel good again. It’s been days since you felt normal, days since your world wasn’t in some state of fuzziness, whether it was from your sugar being too high or more horrifying, too low.

He regards you for a moment, and that uncomfortable feeling of being small and weak and stupid rushes over you as it has many times since you’ve been here. 

“Well. That’s all behind you now. There will be no more escape attempts like that, I assure you. I will keep you here until we can stabilize your levels and get you back on your proper diet and routine.”

He stands up, his familiar weight leaving the bed, and retrieves one of the glucose monitors from a cabinet. You never measured your levels much before you took you, but he insisted on testing frequently throughout the day, never taking chances. He wouldn’t be taking them now, that’s for sure.

You keep your hands obediently outstretched and hardly wince when he presses the familiar button, when the whooshing plastic precedes the jabbing pain of a needle stabbing into the pad of your finger. His touch is firm as he squeezes until a blood droplet appears, and you look away to avoid seeing it slurped into the strip.

It beeps, but you don’t turn to see the reading.

He sighs, clearly disappointed in whatever number showed up on the screen.

And you wonder just how long it will be until you’ll be able to go back to your room.

[cherri-cherri]

× Polaroid ×

------------ × ------------

Pairings - Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

Warnings - Character Death, Slight Blood

A/N - Soo, I had no idea how to end this properly, like at all buut I hope you all enjoy regardless. I think I am going to start taking requests soon, I'll make a post on it later. Anyways, I hope you all enjoy!

------------×------------

"Open your eyes! Please, Y/N—" blood stained his pale hands as he held you there in his arms. He should've stopped you from crossing the road, he should've grabbed you or shoved you out of the way before that truck could even touch you..staring down at your broken body, tears threatened to spill from his eyes and Megumi continued to try to wake you up.

"Somebody, anybody—! Please, Call an ambulance! Call someone, plea—!!" He screamed out only to stop when feeling a weak tug on his shirt. Looking down at you once more, Megumi gritted his teeth as he held you close. "Hang in there, Y/N, just hang on just a little bit longer for me..."

"F-fushi..guro....it hurts..it hurt..s" your voice barely came out in a whisper, blood tricked down your bloody forehead and down your cheek as you stared up at the boy but your vision was growing darker and darker.. "Shh, don't talk. It's gonna be ok, you're going to be ok..."

"G-gumi, i... I...lov..i loved.."

"No! No.. no..dont tell me, tell me later when you're in the hospital recovering, not here" Megumi looked around frantically, hearing the blaring sound of an ambulance getting closer and closer, relief almost washing over him as small smile spread across his lips. "S-see, they're almost here, Y/—" he said, stopping once when his eyes dropped back down to you. The light that had once shine in your eyes were now dull as the rapid up and down movement of your chest had came to a halt. Gently nudging you, he whispered your name in hopes you would answer him, in hopes that you would say something. When nothing but silence returned, his nudges became harder in desperation. "Hey, wake up! This isn't funny, Y/N, Wake the hell up!! Y/N? Y/N?!!!"

No, no, he couldn't lose you, He couldn't lose you too. Soon enough, Megumi felt hands pull him away from your cold body as he continued screaming out to you but they only fell on deaf ears. Paramedics quickly moved to you as he was taken away, a grim expression on their faces as they already knew the diagnostic report.

"Dead on arrival, 6:30 PM...Blood loss from lower abdomen and—"

"She isn't dead! She's not dead, you idiots!" "Alright, son, let's get you out of here.." one of the officers said, taking Megumi away as he tried to pull away to get back to you. Seeing the boy who was with you slowly fading away in the crowd, one of the paramedics took a look around seeing next to your corpse was a polaroid camera with a broken lens faced on its side. Sighing to himself, he stood up and motioned for his partner to begin the cleaning up of the accident, unaware of the camera's shutter going off.

Opening his eyes right away and sitting up, Megumi looked around to see he was no longer on the streets of the shopping district. He was no longer being taking away by cops, he was no longer..by your side. Dragging a hand to his face and laying back down, a sigh escaped his lips as he realised it was just a dream. Why couldn't it have been one of better days with you, why did it have to be that day specifically.

Your death was labeled as an accident after he explained what had happened to the police. The two of you were just coming back from the local shopping district after getting a few supplies for an upcoming school project you both had to complete when you had ran to the road after a paper flew out of the your hand. Of course, they found it strange when he told them that until he cleared up that it wasnt just a piece of paper...it was a photograph of the two of you from earlier that day. A photograph she had taken with her camera where he willingly smiled...

The stupid reason for your death was a photograph of him and he hated it. Megumi blamed himself for not stopping you from crossing the road and now because of him, that smile he came to love was gone. The days after your death were harder still over the fact that..

Click~!

Your presence still lingered. Hearing the shutter of a camera, the ravenette dragged a hand across his face before turning to his side where his nightstand was. There beside the lamp was a polaroid camera with a broken lens facing him, already printing a fresh photograph on the wooden table. You were always obsessed with that thing, taking photos of places and objects that caught your eye with him being one of the most favorite things you liked to photograph. 'You'd look so much better if you smiled, Gumi..' he hated that nickname you gave him and yet...he wouldn't mind hearing it again. He wouldn't mind hearing how excited you were over a certain photo you had taken that day..

'Check it out, Megumi! Caught a good one!'

'do you think Tsumaki-chan would mind if I take a photo?'

'Megumi, you're such a stick in the mud, can't you ever smile..?'

'Hey, Megumi..?'

'G-gumi...I..I loved...I love...you—'

Reaching over and gently taking the photograph, Megumi stared down at it as the guilt resurfaced yet again. He was so angry at you that day..he remembered it clearly..around that time was when Tsumaki was cursed but for all you knew, she was just sick. You tried your hardest to cheer him up, to let him know that you were there for him and yet...he took out his anger and frustration on you. What was worse were those words, the last words he said to you before your life was cut short..

'I'm only trying to help, I know that things are a bit rough right now but–'

'But nothing! This isnt something a picture perfect scenario you can fix with your stupid camera! I don't need your help and I don't need you, I was doing fine by myself and honestly I'd rather go back to being that way so buzz off!' He remembered shoving you away, the photo in your hand flying out of your grasp and unconsciously, you reached out to grab it...one moment he was staring down at you angrily and the next, covered in your blood and begging for you to stay.

He shouldn't have gotten mad but he knew you weren't upset with him. How...? Because when you died, you died in his arms smiling. Smiling with those dull eyes staring into his soul. Smiling just like now in the photograph in his hand..

As he laid on his side in the photo, there you were laying beside him with your arms around his waist and you were just smiling down at him with those dull E/C eyes. Megumi frowned, running a finger over the photo

"Yeah..good morning to you too..Y/N"

[sylvies-chen]

30 or 35 for brettsey please!

(PROMPT LIST)

30. “Is that blood?”

Matt will never forget the first time he got injured on a call after they started dating.

He doesn’t know why it’s such a crystal clear memory. There was a small house fire a couple blocks from the station and everyone had been called in to help put it out— Squad, Engine, Truck, and Ambo alike.

It was stupid, really. The kid he was kicking and putting up a fight while screaming something about going back to save his pet salamander when one of his persistent kicks nailed Matt right in the ribs. Only the kick pushed him into the railing and the soft, burning wood splintered to the touch. It sent him and the boy falling down ten or so feet. Matt shielded the boy from the floor and the fire surrounding them, preventing any further injury to the victim by taking the brunt of it himself.

It was only ten feet. At worst, he would have been sore for a week or two. The railing though, that damn railing. It crumbled beneath them and when Matt landed, a sharp piece of splintered wood gave him a gnarly cut on his forehead.

He winced, he flew a hand to the injury, noting the blood that spread onto his glove when he did so. But the eight-year-old boy was still in Matt’s arms, and there was still a blazing fire around them that Engine needed to hose down. His surface level injuries could wait until later. “Come on,” he told the boy. “Let’s get you out of here.”

Escaping the fire is simple after that, it was only ten steps to get to the front door, and twenty or so more to get the boy to the ambo. Sylvie and Violet tended to him as well as the rest of his family while Engine hosed down the fire. The additional ambo support had whisked the family off to the hospital for in no time and everyone from 51 gave each other relieved smiles at the work they’d achieved.

That is, of course, until Sylvie saw the open gash on his head. Twenty minutes after he’d originally gotten it.

Her eyes went wide at the sight of it— that much, he remembers perfectly clear. “Is that blood?”

“... No,” he tried fibbing, resisting the urge to wipe at his brow to check for fear of giving himself away. It was silly, trying to hide up such a small wound. But he didn’t want to waste precious ambo resources on a small cut when he could have just found a bandaid at home that would do the trick. It felt selfish, something that merited telling a little white lie to his girlfriend. “I’m fine.”

“Matt Casey, you are the worst liar ever,” she chastised with a pointed index finger. “Come here, let me have a look.”

He’d considered putting up a fight at the time, but he knows Sylvie. She’s stubborn when it comes to caring about people; the whole head injury debacle had proved that much. So he sighed, made his way over to the ambo.

Things in their relationship were still very new at thar point. It’d only been a couple weeks since they told people at the firehouse and they were still adamant on maintaining strict professionalism back then. So he sat down on the amulance’s edge, lifting his head up slightly so she could inspect the forehead gash.

Her hands were very clinical at first. “It’s not so bad,” she explained. “Just a surface cut. I’ll clean it out and put some medical tape on it.”

She used her professional, tough, paramedic voice. Under any other circumstances Matt would have found it extremely hot. But at that moment, he almost found it funny. She was clearly worried about him, and she was trying to put on a brave face, but it was failing miserably. “Copy that, PIC Brett,” he nodsed, doing a mock salute while she reached for the medical tape.

Sylvie bandaged him up, still clinical and calm. But the others became busy with the cleanup and Violet was too busy arguing with Gallo (or flirting— Matt could never tell the difference with those two) to pay attention to the ambo. It made the moment with them just a little more intimate.

“All set,” Sylvie declared after a while.

He smiled at her, beaming wide and joyful as he always did and still does. “Thanks.”

He stood up to leave but a small, firm hand rested on his shoulder and he was eased back into his spot even without any force or pressure. “Wait,” she said, looking around a little hesitantly.

She leaned over after that and planted a long, gentle kiss on his head— not on the wound but right next to it, so as to avoid making it sting. Her lips were soft and tender on his forehead, lingering slightly before pulling away. Her hand flew to his cheek, caressing it soothingly.

They stayed like that for a while, until the rest of the firehouse started teasingly telling them to get a room. Sylvie blushed, buried her face in Matt’s shoulder while laughing hysterically.

Sometimes, on the rare and gloomy off days where Matt forgets about how the tiny little things in the world show love, he thinks about that day— that small, tender kiss on the forehead— and thinks he’s never felt a love so safe and healing.

[deiliamedlini]

Whumptober 2021- The Darkness I Know

Chapter 4

No. 4- Trust fall

“Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

Fic Summary: After the world as she knew it was destroyed by the corruption of Malice, Zelda allies herself with her saviors from captivity: a disgruntled former governor, an alert paramedic, a cocky pilot, an excessively overt optimist, and a blind strategist. While the corrupted, malice-filled Yiga Clan looks for revenge on them, Zelda has to learn how important it is to find family in others... and how much more dangerous the stakes become if she fails to protect them.

Previous/ Chapter Index/ Next

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Zelda’s room was an absolute prison.

There was no way that someone built this room for comfort, or peace. No one would find a sense of calm and relaxation in here. It was built to inspire fear, and that’s exactly what it did.

The door was locked, of course. No amount of jiggling the handle would do anything to help her. But when she turned, she was met by a sickening, neon orange wall, with white floors; her eyes hurt simply from looking at it all.

There was no window in the small room, but she hadn’t expected it. She figured they were in the middle of the compound, just based on what little information she’d managed to gather. But there was nothing on the walls, nothing but the painful color. It left the room feeling barren and empty; a cold place rather than somewhere warm and inviting.

The bed was small and set on a metal frame, and when she sat on it, she sank into an uncomfortable gap that had been left by an apparent, numerous occupants. And the sheets didn’t appear to have been changed in the time between people either, given their frayed, tattered, and—to Zelda’s utter dismay—odorous state.

No, this room was not meant to be lived in. This was another tactic, another measure for her to overcome. This was to scare her out of joining the Yiga, as if she had any other choice right now. Joining was the only way out.

She sat in the corner of the room on the floor, hoping that was a safer bet than the bed was, and pictured just how many people were gathered in that room. Not one of them tried to defect? Every one of them was here of their own volition?

Zelda shuddered. What if there was a ploy, a twist? What if somehow, they really could convince her to become a Malice-loving zealot? Who would she even be?

Perhaps the room was meant to test her in more ways than one, because the only time the door opened was for someone to drop off food that she was too afraid to eat, and then they’d leave with the tray and Zelda would wander the empty room trying to keep herself entertained.

She’d been in the Yiga’s hideout for a week now: three days in the cells, and four in the room.

Four, right?

She’d lost count, honestly.

On day… two—she believed—she accepted the food with caution. They wouldn’t try to pull the same trick twice, right?  Besides, she’d need her strength if she wanted to have a chance of fighting.

That was what this room really did: broke people until they no longer had fight left inside them.

Before the Malice had taken over, Zelda was fresh out of school. She did some sports in high school, and she ran in her spare time, but athleticism wasn’t her forte. After, however, Zelda had become proficient in fending off the more annoying crazed creatures, and the occasional human. She could use a bow, a knife, and herself to throw an enemy off balance. But here? Here she was surrounded and completely alone.

Zelda loved rulers, but there were none in the room.

She took her arm and placed it beside the pillow she refused to use on the bed she wouldn’t sit on. The pillow was about 1 ¼’s of her arm. The blanket was 5 arms in length, and 3 wide. The door was 2. The room was 14.

Goddess, there was little else she could do to keep herself entertained.

She took her place on the floor, stretched out and groaning as her bones snapped and cracked, begging for her to be kinder to them. She flipped onto her back and let out a heavy sigh as her back thanked her.

“Let me out,” Zelda said to no one in particular, and in a very normal voice. She didn’t shout or call for help, but she needed to speak. “Please, just let me leave this stupid room!”

Her stomach growled. Weak. She was weak with hunger. Her legs didn’t want her to stand back up, and she was okay with that.

How many fibers were on the frayed end of the blanket, Zelda wondered?

It was faint, but Zelda’s ears perked up at an unfamiliar noise outside her door, causing her to sit up faster than she ever had before. It was quick, and gone in an instant, but it was there.

She crawled to her door, staying low in case… well, she didn’t know why. Just in case.

With her ear to the door, she closed her eyes to block out her other senses, and listened.

Boom!

Zelda shrieked and fell backwards as the sound of something hard and heavy connected with her door, shaking it with her head still against the wood.

There was the unmistakable sound of a scuffle, and the door shook with several thuds, occasionally followed by a grunt or two.

Then, it was silent.

Zelda ran to the door and pressed her ear there once again, but she heard nothing.

“Hey!” she finally called, banging her palm on the door as hard as she could, a surge of adrenalin bursting through her tired, sore, and hungry body. “Hey!” She tried, banging incessantly.

Zelda had hoped it would get someone’s attention. She hoped someone would open the door, and allow her to escape.

She didn’t expect to hear a man’s confused voice on the other side.

“Yes?”

Eyes bugging out, Zelda banged the door again. “Hey! Who’s this!? Let me out!”

She heard the man grunt. “Who is this? Why should I let you out?”

“Aren’t you a Yiga?” she asked jokingly.

“No.”

No?

“No?”

“No.”

Zelda let her hands slide along the wood, trying the door handle one more time, fruitlessly. “My village was massacred, I was betrayed, and they’re trying to kill me! Please let me out!”

“I don’t know you,” he said with a scoff.

Zelda banged her fists on the door. “Please! Let me out! It’s locked from the outside!”

“Stop doing that and maybe I will!”

She saw the doorknob jiggle before it stopped. “Hang on,” he said, just before she heard retreating footsteps.

She wanted to beg him not to go, but she simply held her breath and waited, trying to think of the best way to attack. There were literally no possible weapons in the room, so she imagined the door opening, and her coming out swinging instead. Of course, if they had a weapon, she’d be done for and back in the room.

Footsteps were on the other side again. “You in there?” he asked.

“Where did you think I went?”

She could hear him chuckle. “Help me out,” he said to someone else.

A woman muttered something that she couldn’t hear, but there was a thud, and the door shook.

“Back up!” the man called.

Zelda did, wondering what they were doing.

And she yelped when a giant metal sword pierced the wood.

Then again.

Another sword, and the wood was splintering.

“Goddess,” she mumbled, watching the wood be torn to pieces in random places.

It didn’t make sense until there were a few more thuds, and the center of the door was a hole just big enough for her.

“Hello?”

Zelda waited, unsure if they were just going to stab her when all was said and done. But that was probably too much effort.

“Damn,” a woman said, her voice deep and authoritative, but also melodic and charming. “That was fun.”

“Good thing we cleared this area,” the man said, his voice moving, as if he were looking around.

“Hey,” the woman said, peering at Zelda in the room. She was hunched over, so she was very tall, and her red hair was long and wild and wavy as it hung in front of her face. “Coming? We’re on a tight schedule.”

“Yes,” she breathed, rushing toward the gap.

The woman disappeared. “Can you help her out? I’m going to go find Daruk.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

Zelda watched the woman run by the door, and a new figure replaced her.

The man was not nearly the same height as the woman, and Zelda wondered if they might actually just be the same, judging from where he stood. His partially gloved hand ran along the gap just before he shoved his whole arm inside, ready to take Zelda’s hand.

“It’ll be a tight squeeze. I’ll help pull you out.”

“How do you know I’m not really a Yiga?” she asked. “How do I know you’re not a Yiga? Am I supposed to take you at your word?”

“That would be silly. Let me prove it to you instead,” he said, wiggling his fingers.

Hesitation was not something Zelda liked experiencing, so she fought past it and gripped the man’s hard, calloused hand. His fingers closed tight around hers. “Let me know when you’re ready for me to pull.”

“I will,” she said, getting her leg up, but then getting stuck. “Oh, this is just going to hurt a bit.”

“What is?”

“I’m stuck. I think… just pull me. I just want to get out of here.”

“We don’t injure people for no reason, he said with an exasperated sigh. Come on, let me help.”

His hand didn’t move, waiting for her permission. “Fine.”

“What are you wearing?”

Zelda’s heart was already racing from the nerves, and the excitement of getting out of here. But this man… was something. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t see well. What are you wearing?”

“Pants and…”

“Good enough,” he said, reaching forward and sliding his hand quickly down her back before grabbing her by the waist of her pants and pulling her with him.

She didn’t land on the ground, but instead, found herself out of that cursed room, and in the arms of a total stranger.

Sudden tiredness washed over her. “Why did you even let me out? Do you trust me, or something?”

“No,” he snorted, letting her go when he felt she was solid. “No, but we’re already on a rescue mission. Let’s just add one more.”

“A rescue?”

“Yeah, a man with blue hair should be prisoner here. We’re here to break him out, but we’ve been scouring this place.”

“Wait, blue hair? I think I know where he is.”

The man’s blonde, messy mop hung in front of his eyes. It must be annoying, Zelda figured, but she wasn’t going to voice that opinion. Some of his hair was tied back, but not enough to be neat or helpful.

“You do?” he asked, his interest piqued.

“I believe so.”

“What’s your name so I can thank the Goddess for you at night?” he laughed, before picking up a long staff he’d leaned against a wall.

“Zelda,” she said, instinctively holding out her hand for a handshake.

“Zelda? Good to meet you. I’m Link.” He held his hand out beside hers. She stared at his hand like it were doing a trick before simply sliding her hand into his.

Smoothing her hand through her hair awkwardly, she looked around, getting her bearings. “Okay, let’s go.”

[ravynfyre]

Story Time

So I saw a pretty incredible thread on Twitter regarding the fucking disaster at Uvalde. I rec folks go have a look, because it reminded me of a MUCH LESS severe incident in my own career... but the overall sentiment remains the same: If you aren't prepared to put your life on the line, take the fucking badge off and go home.

So we got a call one night for a teen who had attempted suicide. He'd downed an entire bottle of NyQuill, and then tried to cut his wrists. When we arrived, there was a cop waiting for us, because the call came in with the magic words, "subject has a knife", which meant that the cop had to "make the scene safe for us to enter". Thing is, call ALSO came in as "subject is unconscious and unresponsive", so none of us were the least bit worried about the "knife". We'd evaluate when we could see what was going on.

What was going on was there was a kid, mid-teens, passed the fuck out in an overstuffed chair in the basement. Did not respond to us calling for him, and his "friends" nearby were playing video games and waving in his direction, "he's over there." (Some friends)

Oh, and he had a BUTTER KNIFE held loosely in one UNCONSCIOUS hand. It was even a very obviously DULL BUTTERKNIFE, and the wrist that he had tried to cut with it didn't even have a mark.

But the cop... oh the fucking cop was having an absolute CONNIPTION. "He's got a knife! Stay back! He's armed!" And this guy had his gun out and was freaking out that this unconscious kid had a dull butterknife that didn't even have a POINT in his hand. Weapon drawn, demanding that we "clear the scene" until he can "secure it" because the "subject was armed".

So my Captain that night was this like seven foot tall, three hundred pound linebacker of a guy who also moonlighted as an ER nurse and general Brute Squad. He calmly stared at the cop, before taking off his bunker coat, shoving past the panicking officer, and tossing the coat over the unconscious kid from a couple feet away. "Scene's secure. You can go now."

Oh the cop just lost his SHIT at that point, and said that he would report my Cap for "breaking SOPs" (standard operating procedures) and some other shit, but we just ignored him and got to work on this kid, who, even if he woke up right then, he'd have to get through three layers of nomex, canvas, and leather to get to us with that butterknife. The knife that my Cap then casually removed from his hand and handed off to the irate cop.

We treated the kid, finally got him to wake up, got him started on meds and O2 and passed off to the ambulance to take in to the hospital, and went back to quarters. And, sure nuff, the next shift, my Cap was called downtown to get "talked to" by one of the Chiefs. The cop had filed a complaint, and, while everyone on the FD side knew that my Cap had done exactly the right thing - the cop drew his weapon on an unconscious child, FFS - they "had" to "talk to him about the SOPs".

So, here's the thing. I've mentioned it before but we are trained to "Risk a lot to save a lot". We don't throw our lives away for property, but we'll risk our lives for someone else's life. THAT IS THE FUCKING JOB. That's the POINT. That's the WHOLE REASON WE DO THIS SHIT. When we get to pin on that shiny badge and hop in the driver's seat of the Big Red Truck, it is with the understanding that we are willing to lay down our life for someone else. If that's too scary?

TAKE OFF THE BADGE AND GO THE FUCK HOME.

If we NEVER EVER put our lives at risk, we would never walk into a burning building. We'd never work a car wreck on an open highway. We'd never treat ANY patients - after all, we don't know their disease status! So we put on the uniform, pin on the badge, and UNDERSTAND that we are doing so because we are willing to make that sacrifice, to take that risk, when appropriate.

The closest I have ever come to an armed standoff was when we had a drunk guy use his 357 Magnum as a chili spoon, so, yeah, I've never actually had to deal with a Uvalde... but we ALL got the training on how and what to do. I wasn't allowed to carry a gun while on duty... but that never stopped me from putting myself between immanent danger and the people we were sent to help. (And yes, I did get my ass kicked once or twice by bystanders/family, so that's not hyperbole, thanks)

And those fucking COWARDS in Uvalde STOOD OUTSIDE AND LISTENED TO KIDS GETTING KILLED, rather than risk themselves and go in to stop the shooter. They ARRESTED PARENTS for begging to be allowed to risk their OWN lives to go in.

Because that was the "SOP". Because they have been trained to think "your life first, THEN your partner's, THEN the public." Because "how can you help anyone when you become a victim, too?"

SOPs which are being applied UNIVERSALLY and WITHOUT DUE CONSIDERATION TO THE ACTUAL SITUATION AT HAND.

SOPs which are being treated as a cookie cutter answer to everything and all situations.

SOPs which have trained these cowards to NEVER THINK FOR THEMSELVES.

And kids died.

Who knows if they would have been able to save any of the kids that died if they had been willing to FUCKING THINK and FULFILL THE OATH THEY MADE WHEN THEY PINNED ON THE BADGE. But that bastard was left alone in that school for nearly an HOUR to keep killing as he saw fit. And even better, when the cops finally DID make entry, they yelled for any kids to call for help if they needed it... and one girl, who was alive and hidden, answered him...

And the shooter promptly found her and killed her. Because of SOPs and an inability to fucking THINK.

Inappropriately applied SOPs at that, as I know that *I* was trained that you don't ask people to out themselves during an active incident, until the shooter is either contained, eliminated, or OUT OF THE AREA.

They refused to go in for an HOUR. Because it wasn't "safe". NO SHIT IT WASN'T SAFE! KIDS WERE DYING!

But it wasn't safe enough for THEM, so they waited for people with bigger guns and body armor to show up, and listened to the gunshots and to kids DYING for an hour... Because they all forgot their oath. They forgot, or ignored, the promise they made when they pinned that badge on -

Risk a lot to save a lot.

If you aren't prepared to pay the price? To take the risks for other people? Then go. the fuck. home. Because doing exactly that?

Is your JOB.*

[halstudandruz]

Ultimatum

*Not my gif*

Pairing: Antonio Dawson x Reader

Requested: Yes

Prompt: Antonio isn’t a fan of Halloween or the costumes you picked

Warnings: swearing

A/N: Picture of the costumes I’m thinking of at the end! Happy Halloween my friends! 🎃 👻

He hated Halloween. What was the point? It was just a scheme for kids to get candy, leaving the parents to deal with the sugar high aftermath. Not to mention the dressing up. Why do people think it’s so fun to be someone else for a night? As if they knew anything about being a cop. But hey let’s pretend to be one for a night. It was all a stupid, pointless day that certainly shouldn’t be considered a “holiday.” It was right up there on his list with April Fool’s and Valentine’s Day, unnecessary trouble.

Yet, here he was hanging up skull lights and setting out pumpkin shaped pretzels. What he wouldn’t do for you.

“Looks great babe.” You smiled admiring him from behind the bar.

“Where’s Herrmann again?” He huffed trying to balance on a ladder.

“Still out with the kids trick-or-treating.” You explained, checking the inventory behind the bar quickly one last time. “We gotta run back to the apartment though to get ready before we open.”

“What do you mean by get ready?” Antonio raised a weary eyebrow descending from the top of the ladder.

“We are hosting a Halloween party honey.” You rolled your eyes.

“No, you’re hosting a Halloween party. I’m here for the booze and drunk karaoke.” He countered.

“Keep talking like that and the booze you are referencing won’t be free tonight.” You quipped back making him sigh.

Standing in front of the mirror an hour later Antonio was starting to really not mind the idea of having to pay, “I’m not wearing this.” He shook his head, still focused on his figure staring back at him.

“What do you mean you’re not wearing it? You literally have it on.” You pouted stopping in the middle of your mascara routine to face him.

“It completely goes against my loyalty.” He pointed out.

“That doesn’t even make sense. Stop being ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes.

“You do realize there are going to be actual firefighters here right?” He questioned making you laugh.

“Yes, I do. Considering it’s a firefighter owned bar, and well of course the fact that I am one.” You rolled your eyes.

“Technically you’re a paramedic mi amor.” He pointed out.

“Yeah but I get to sport the bunker gear everyone once in a while, and if I do say so myself I look damn good doing it.” You joked walking towards him admiring the look he was sporting. Thinking now you’d be completely on board with him taking the firefighter exam if you could stare at what’s standing in front of you all day. Plastic helmet or not, the pants looked good on him to put it lightly. CFD t-shirt wrapped tightly around his muscles, making him look even more ripped than normal, red suspenders hanging at his sides to complete the look. You moved to wrap your arms around his waist gladly taking in the imagine in front of you, knees going just a little bit weak at the thoughts now running through your mind.

“Eyes up here.” He smirked as you drew your eyes back up his body to his face, a humorous glint surfacing.

“You shouldn’t be complaining you know.” You shrugged.

“Oh really? Why is that?” He asked.

“Well originally I was going to go as the firefighter and make you go as the Dalmatian, but I thought hey it’s Halloween. The one day of the year we can be something we can't the other 364. So technically you should be thanking me.” You shrugged glancing over his shoulder to fix your polka dotted ears.

“Babe, don’t make me do this. I won’t hear the end of it.” He pleaded turning now to face you, “Oh damn.” He huffed out now seeing what you were wearing. Antonio’s eyes trailed your body, heat surfacing at the darkness that gleaned in his pupils, as he was now fully taking in your costume.

You wore polka dotted ears resting atop your curled hair, a black bralette that came down just as far as your ribs, accentuating your breasts in a slutty but tasteful way, a white tutu sat on your hips with little black polka dots arranged on it, white thigh high stockings accessorized with a cute black bow at the top, black heels strapped to your feet, and of course a black choker to pull the look together. Antonio’s eyes were drinking you up like the last sip of water in a desert and oh did you love it.

“Oh my love,” he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer into his body, “in what world did you think I was going to let you go out wearing this,” his fingers tickled along the outsides of your thighs moving upwards, “Let alone bartend in it?” He questioned hands settling to cup your ass causing you to stifle a moan.

“Mmm, good thing I’m not giving you a choice.” You bit back challengingly making him smirk at your attitude.

“How about this? How about you slip on a nice white shirt over this,” he snapped the strap of your bralette against your skin, “and put on a pair of those leggings you like so much over these sexy legs of yours.” He provided his ultimatum, hiking one of your legs over his hip causing you to lose balance before he steadily held you tighter against him, “and then when we get home you can put this cute little number back on and let me and only me appreciate it hmm?” His lips ghosted lightly along your neck leaving goosebumps in their trail.

“Mmmm..” you hummed closing your eyes, before shaking the lust that was starting to consume you, tugging your leg away to place it back down on the ground, “yeah no sorry, this is one of the only excuses a year I get to show off my body. Which I put a lot of work into by the way.” You trailed a hand over your body showing off its curves for emphasis, “On the bright side, once they see what you are, they’ll get the whole couple's costume idea and there will be nothing to worry about.” You waved your hand dismissively, “However,” you placed your hands on the sides of his neck looking up at him innocently, “if you play nice tonight, maybe later I could show you how good I am at handling a hose especially a charged one, if you know what I mean.” You teased, kissing his cheek and leaving him frustrated in more than one way.

“Fuck.” Antonio groaned tensing his jaw.

“Yeah, that’s the plan.” You smiled, winking before gathering your stuff and walking out of the room.

*Photo credit to owner*

All Taglist:

@corebore123 @scarletsoldierrr @hehurst23 @beautiful-bunny89 @ingie @halsteadsway @malrunaway @smclelli @inlovewith3

Antonio Taglist:

@queen-of-arda

[lonestarbabe]

The Definition of Good Parents

[AO3]

Carlos confronts TK about his time in the minefield + TK tells Carlos about the baby + Carlos getting protective over TK after hearing what Owen said to him = a deadly mix. I said, “Let’s just put it all into one tiny fic.”

Carlos gives T.K. a stern look as soon as he sees him coming through the door. He can’t believe the things his boyfriend does sometimes. He wouldn’t trade T.K. or any of his traits for the world, though.

“I heard you volunteered to go into a minefield,” Carlos says, eyebrows raised. He admires T.K.’s commitment to the job, but his nerves cannot take T.K. being in the hospital again. (Or worse, but he can’t think about worse).

T.K. smiles like he’s proud of his endeavors, and Carlos can’t blame him. Carlos is proud of T.K. too. That pride is mixed with a lot of fear. “Where’d you hear that from?”

“Marjan made a group chat.”

“Without me?” T.K. pouts, and Carlos has learned not to let that pout get the best of him, but he can’t help thinking how cute T.K. is as he does it.

“You can’t be part of everything. It’s called, ‘T.K. Strand is a Reckless Dumbass.’ I’m sure she’ll add you if you want.”

“She’s the one who dove into a damn steaming lava pit.”

“You went into a minefield,” Carlos emphasizes. “You’re not the bomb squad.”

“You sound like Pearce,” T.K. grins. “I’m not an asshole who puts my perfect record above saving a life.”

“Thank god I wasn’t there. I would have killed you.”

“Babe, it’s fine. Nothing bad happened to me.” T.K. pulls Carlos in for a kiss. “Mr. Perfect, couldn’t take the heat, so I stepped in.”

Carlos wraps his arm around T.K., thankful to have him there and to be able to hold him. “I thought you were trying to get out of the dog house.”

“I am,” T.K. gives him another kiss. “I think you’ll like the decision I made today.”

“And what’s that?”

“I’m switching teams.” That gives Carlos pause.

“Oh, yeah? I happen to like the team you’re on,” Carlos says with a chuckle, and he wants to do unholy things to T.K. He remembers T.K. saying they made a pretty good team. He knows that’s not what T.K. is talking about, but that’s the only team he can think about.

“Not like that.” T.K. rolls his eyes. “I applied to be the new paramedic.”

“What? I didn’t even know you were a paramedic.” T.K.’s never mentioned that.

“I was a dual-function medic.”

“That’s sexy. How many tricks do you have up your sleeve, T.K. Strand?” Carlos has seen only a portion of the tricks that he’s sure T.K.’s had. They’ve only been together for a few months, but he’s sure that there’s plenty more about T.K. to learn, and he’s looking forward to discovering every square inch T.K. has to offer.

T.K. licks his lips. “So many.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal. I had to do something while I was waiting to be eligible for the fire academy, so I figured I might as well get some of my hours in. With how many medical calls we take, medical qualifications make your resume stand out. I wanted to make it without my dad’s influence.”

“It seems like a pretty big deal.”

“I can’t do everything wrong,” T.K. jokes, and Carlos can’t laugh along because self-deprecating humor feels a little too self-deprecating when T.K. uses it. It hits Carlos in all the ways that make him concerned.

“You saved that kid in the minefield. Seems to me that you do a lot right.”

“The minefield was the best part of my day, believe it or not,” T.K. says. He looks Carlos in the eyes, “Second best.” Carlos would melt if he didn’t feel himself going into protective boyfriend mode.

“The rest of the day couldn’t have been that bad.” Carlos can’t imagine what could one-up a minefield.

“Nothing dramatic. Just tiring bullshit.”

“Want to talk about it?”

“I’m overwhelmed.” Carlos knows that overwhelmed is T.K.’s codeword for not mentally okay, and he feels a chill in his bones.

Carlos leads T.K. to the couch to sit down because this conversation isn’t one that should be had hovering by the kitchen counter. When they’re comfortable, he asks,“Overwhelmed? By what?”

“Things have been weird with my dad. We’re okay, but they’re still weird.”

“Is he upset about the career change?” Because if he is, fuck that. T.K.’s worked hard to get to where he is, and if Owen can’t at least be proud of T.K.’s accomplishment, then Carlos will have to be twice as proud— one hundred times as proud.

“Maybe. I don’t know. He’s more focused on the baby.”

“The what?” Carlos feels like he’s missing something important, and he tries to search his mind for any memory of a baby.

T.K. seems to realize what he’s said, and his eyes widen. “Shit. I’m supposed to keep it on the down-low, but I’ve already confessed twice today. Once can be taken as necessary venting, but twice is bad. ”

“Wait, T.K. Slow down. What are you trying to say.”

T.K. winces. “My mom’s pregnant.”

“Oh, shit.” Carlos can hardly process what he’s hearing. He knew Gwyn and Owen were trying to work things out, but he had never expected that.

“They get to be parents.” T.K.’s voice is scratchy.

“Again,” Carlos adds. “They don’t stop being your parents no matter how old you get.”

“They’re already thinking a lot about this baby’s future, and they want to be around to raise them.  My dad even decided to go through with that surgery to get rid of his tumor.”

“That’s a good thing, right? You’ve been pushing him to do it.”

“Yeah, I have been.” T.K.’s quiet for a moment. “Want to know the reason he gave me?” T.K. doesn’t wait for Carlos to reply. “He said that he was going to be a father as if he wasn’t a father before.” Carlos feels rage spike in his core, but he’s not going to make this moment about what he is feeling. He’s not going to say how much he wants to give Owen Strand a piece of his mind. “I know it’s stupid that a comment like that bothered me, but I haven’t been able to get it out of my head.”

“Passing comment or not, what he said is shitty.”

“He didn’t mean it like that. He was talking without thinking.” T.K. grins. “It’s a family trait. I’m just being a little bitch, just like always.”

“Don’t say that. You’re entitled to your feelings.”

“My parents are so happy, and I’m the rain cloud that they can’t shake.” It’d be cheesy, but Carlos would call T.K. his sun if it made him feel any better, but Carlos knows that there are no words that he can use to take the hurt away. Just as T.K. couldn’t say anything to make the situation with Carlos’ parents better, sometimes, all you can do is be a safe place.

“Parents don’t always give us the love we want or deserve,” Carlos says, “But that isn’t because you carry too much darkness. It’s not because you aren’t bright enough. It’s not even because they don’t have enough love to give.” Carlos thinks of his parents, unable to say the word gay but throwing around the words “I love you.” “Some parents try so hard to meet the definition of good parents that they forget to be your parents.”

T.K. drops his head on Carlos’ shoulder. “Is that supposed to make me feel better.”

Carlos shakes his head, “No. It’s just a reminder.”

“I hope they’re better parents for the baby,” T.K. says with watery eyes.

Carlos kisses T.K.’s temple, “And if they’re not, that kid will have the best big brother.”

[ancdtlst]

One at a Time

Characters: Leedo x Reader Genre: Drama

Description: Where you're trying to get him on dates with you but he rejects every single one of it.

"Leedo, please.", you said as you caught his wrist but Leedo ignored you as he tries to pull his wrist away.

"No. I'm not doing it.", he replied, looking away. Honestly, he was a little bit pissed off. Both you and Leedo visited Lotte World because— let's be honest, you tricked him.

"I told you, I don't do dates.", he said coldly. Your heart dropped, a little bit disappointed because he was actually against it but even if you were being honest with him, you are completely sure that he will reject your offer, again.

Apparently, you made a deal with him. You were well aware of his situation, trust issues and a few resentments he had but trying will not hurt, right?

Trying to be friend with him was quite hard too because he was cold. He would always ignore you but giving up is not your first name. When you learn his hobby is working out, you often bought things he need to the gym. Thanks to your hard works, he finally talking to you but he would not call you as his friend. Not yet.

"But you agreed yesterday.", you whines as you tailed him from behind. "Hey, shut up. I don't think you're in the place to speak right now.", he replied, obviously pissed because you tricked him. "Don't you think this is too much?", he asked.

"You agreed with eight dates but you rejected it five times and I don't have a lot of chance now.", you were sulking but trying your best to hide it because you knew he hates it.

"Take a hint will you?", he said. "That means, I am not interested.", he added, walking away before you could even reply. Quickly, you ran after him. "Okay, fine, fine. Here take this.", you pulled out the tickets out from your bag and put it his palm.

"You can go in alone or with Seoho.", you said and walked away.

Leedo was lost. He looked at those tickets before his eyes trailed after you. "What am I going to do with Seoho? Stand there?", he mumbled alone.

"Leedo let's eat—"

"No thanks.", he cut you off even before you could finish you sentence. You rolled your eyes before following him to the studio without even saying anything anymore. As soon as you reach his own studio room for the day he stopped you. "Find another room, I'm busy.", he said before closing the door right in front of face.

"Alright! Aye you're such a petty man.", you grumbled as you opened the door next to him.

Leedo and you were in the music department majoring in song composition. Students were welcome to use their facilities in the department and one of them are personal music studio where it could fit one to three people. Sometimes, Leedo would asked your opinion about his songs and you gave your honest opinion about it. Does not mean, you like him you would sugar coat things that were not suppose to.

It has been more than six hours you locked yourself in the studio and you were almost finished with the song, just a little bit ad-libs and you are good to go but you're just lazy and tired. You saved everything before shutting down the computer and unlocked the door. You went to the next door and knocked it, of course no answer. You try to open it but it was locked.

"What is he doing?", you keep banging on the door and the door finally opened, revealing the most offended human being in this department. His eyes were half closed and his hair was messy. The computer was still on but the room were a little dim.

"Amazing, Leedo. You're unbelievable. Didn't you say you were busy?", you raised your eyebrows.

"Did you actually sleep?", you added before poking your head inside of his studio room. "Smells like a man here."

"What do you think I am? A dog?", he said as he light up the room. "Go, I'm busy.", he said. Before he could shut the door again, your hand hold it and quickly went inside and went straight to the computer. Leedo scoffed, speechless with your action. You were amazed by the layers he did in his song.

"Hey, let's have some pizza.", you quickly said, eyes were still on the computer.

"No."

"Oh, come on.", you begged.

"I said no.", he sternly replied and put his hoodie back on.

"Well, it's your lost then.", you shrugged and walked out from the studio room, going straight home.

As soon as you get to your apartment, you put the present you bought for him for his birthday. Tomorrow is his birthday and you bought him a popular cologne and you hope he likes it. Honestly, you think the smells really suit him. That's why you bought it.

You could not find Leedo since the morning. Could he possibly avoid you on purpose again? He always did it, it was no longer a surprise for you. As much as you want to feel offend by his action but he is Leedo.

You shrugs and went to the music department and straight to the studio room where he always been. Before you could knock, you saw the gap between the door.

It's not close? You thought. You peek inside, seeing Seoho and Keonhee were inside with Leedo. Right then, you heard Leedo's voice. You were about to knock but stopped.

"She was just annoying. I don't know if she was slow or just stupid to take a hint.", Leedo said and you know he straight up talking about you. Who else could be more annoying than you? None.

You could not say anything and you could not move either. You stood there like a mannequin, trying to process everything that you have heard.

"She tricked me to go on a date with her. Is she even real?", he added. "She even gave me a lot of stuffs. What am I suppose to do?"

You could not hear anything anymore and whatever he said after that did not get into you. Then, you heard the door closed and someone stood in front you. Slowly, you looked up and your eyes met Keonhee's surprise expression. He blinked and was about to open the door but you quickly stopped him.

"Oh my god.", he gasped. "I don't know what you heard but—"

"Stop it. I heard it, Keonhee.", you said, looking down while trying your best to hide your sad expression. Then, you remembered the gift you bought yesterday. You gave it to Keonhee. "You can take this.", you paused. "...and please don't tell him about this."

Keonhee hesitantly took the gift and looked at you with worried eyes.

For the rest of the week, you did not speak with Leedo. Everyone were surprise because you were practically glued next to him and you would go wherever he went. Leedo too, was puzzled with your sudden changed. He wanted to approach you and asked if you have any problems but he did not.

Today, they got a group of two assignment assigned for them and since everyone already have their partners it only left you with Leedo. You rolled your eyes, annoyed at the fact that you had to face him again. "So...", he paused. "We're a team now.", he continued. You nods and walked out from the class.

"Hey, wait up. We need to discuss about the project.", he said.

"Let's discuss now, then.", you replied and went back to your seat.

"Not at the studio room?", Leedo asked, a bit confuse.

"Hurry up, I'm busy.", you said, not looking at him as you took out your note book.

Leedo shrugs as he took a seat next to you. Both of you discuss on what kind of genre—well, mostly Leedo. You were just agreeing to whatever he was saying not even pay attention to him like you always do.

"Are you okay?", he asked.

You nods, "Why wouldn't I?". Leedo knew something did happen but he does not really what exactly happen to you.

As soon as the discussion finished, you told him what you're going to do so that both of you would have one less burdens. Leedo was hesitate but agreed to it anyways because you were suppose to do it together.

It's been a few days since the discussion day and Leedo was finishing up the song song he made with you when he heard the knock on his bedroom door. "Come in.", and there is Keonhee with a gift in his hand. "What's that?", Leedo asked.

"I think, I need to tell you something.", Keonhee began.

The next day, Leedo tried to find you but you were no where to find. You were not coming to class either. So, he finally took an initiative to give you a call but you did not answer. He was about to go to your house but he does not know where did you live.

"I hope she will come tomorrow.", he whispered.

You does not feel like yourself today and it felt like you were losing your mind. Your head felt heavy and you could not smell anything. Slowly making your way to the studio room. You have lost count on how long have you been avoiding Leedo.

As soon as you get in the studio, you locked it and laid on the couch. Your head were still pounding like hell and you felt horrible. You were practically curse the doctor who only gave you a day break instead of a few days.

Unable to tolerate with the horrible headache, you took your medicines and quickly went into a deep sleep.

While you were sleeping soundly in the studio room, everyone in the department was running around. Panic are all over the department. The fire alarm broke as soon as one of the student in class smell something was burning. It happens too quick. The corridor were cramped with students who were trying to get out from their classes.

The corridor is now filled with smokes. All doors were opened, signs that everyone had ran out but Leedo realised that one particular door did not. He covered his nose with his sleeve as the smokes getting thicker and trying to open the door but not to avail. He bang on the door, shouting your name.

"Are you in there?", he shouted but no one replied.

There must be someone inside. He thought. Because the door could only be lock from inside. Quickly, he ran to the reception desk and took out a spare key. As he unlocked the door, he saw you laid on the couch, gasping for air.

He shouted your name and quickly carried you out from the room.

As soon as you both were on the assembly compound, the paramedic checked on your pulse as they release a relief sigh.

"She need oxygen.", the paramedic said. They quickly covered your nose and mouth with the respiratory masked. "Here. Cover her with the blanket too, she have a fever.", they gave Leedo a blanket and he quickly wrapped it around you. He hugged you too, to keep you warm.

You could not move, probably due to the headache and fever you had so you just let him do whatever he want. As much as you want to protest, you could not because being in his arms was already comfortable.

A few days later after you finally get a lot of rest and completely fine from your fever, both of you and Leedo were having a serious talk. Apparently, it was a misunderstanding. You actually did not hear everything and you agreed that you should confront him about it but knowing him he was not the type who would explain things. Think whatever you want. That's what he always used to say.

Now your misunderstanding has been solved and you both went back to normal.

"So Leedo.", you paused. "Let's go watch a movie. The new horror movie is out.", you said, not really expecting him to agree.

"Sure.", he said.

"Fine. Of course you would say—", you paused and looked at him. "What did you just say?", you asked him again. You hope you were not hearing things.

"I said sure."

"For real?", he nods. It was unbelievable. Leedo finally agreed to go on a date.

"But.", he paused. "You bought the gift for me, why did did you give it to Keonhee?", he added. Before you could answer him, he asked something again.

"Why eight dates though? I could be more than that.", he was puzzled.

"That.", you grinned. "I. L. O. V. E. Y. O. U. It's eight of them.", you smiles.

[asknerdizzy]

Sirens Call Arc 3/3

“Did you kill all of these people!?” Izzy exclaimed mortified at the scene before her. Haven herself had to looked away from Kerberos holding her hand up to her mouth.

“No f***ing sh** Sherlock. Did you figure that out all by yourself toots?” He drawled out, not at all fazed by the carnage he had created.

“Now if you a**hats could get out of my way. That would be fan-f***ing-tastic. Or would you like to join the lot of ‘em”

“That won’t be happening.” Shard glared having his stand [Another Way Out] put up a barrier that surrounded Kerberos.

With a smirk Kerberos looks up and down Shard humming to himself. “You’ll be fun. I’m Kerberos, and this is my little friend [Pink Party].” Setting down the Stand Bow to the ground. A pink looking stand with a muzzle appears behind Kerberos in the barrier. The Stand proceeds to rapidly claws at the barrier, soon tearing it to shreds.

Shard takes a step back shocked as Kerberos pounces at him. As he does this, [Pink Party] destroy/ the floor beneath the two of them. Having them fall to the next floor. Izzy scrambles over and grabs the bow, and tries to go after Shard. Ready to jump in after him, but she’s,stopped by Haven.

“Now that he’s distracted we can get the bow to a safe location.”

“But I can’t just sit here while Shard is fighting that man! I should back him up however I can.”

“I think Shard can take care of himself. Either way, you don’t know the situation enough to go jumping down there Willy nilly. You could get in the way, or worse, get hurt.

Izzy thought it over and reluctantly had to agree.

“Let’s go to the roof. It’ll be hard for anyone to try and get us from up there.”

Izzy looks over at the hole, and reluctantly follows Haven. Wishing the best for Shard.

———————————————————————

Meanwhile Shard and Kerberos land with a loud thud on top of a huge aquarium full of colorful exotic fish. A crack forming at the impact, but the glass is somehow still intact.

Kerberos is the first one to get up. He crouched down as he allows his Stand [Pink Party] to scratch him for a partial transformation.. His wolffish grin becoming more feral as his canines grew to fangs, his nails extending into claws, and his ears becoming more wolf like.

“C’mon it’s time to Party! Come at me!” Kerberos growls out as he goes in low to slash at Shard. A barrier blocks the assault. With Shard deftly dodging out of the way.

Kerberos goes to attack Shard again in a flurry of blows. Leaving Shard with many cuts and bruisers as he keeps dodging each attack with his stand until he had an opening to upper cut Kerberos in the face.

His head flings back and he tumbles backward. However the opening made way for Kerberos to badly cut Shards arm in the process.

By how things were going so far Shard wouldn’t win. It was time for a different plan. Looking down he saw the cracks in the aquarium. That could work…

“I hope you like fish!” Shard uses [Another Way Out] and his own fist to further crack the aquarium until it finally broke underneath them.

“SH**!” Kerberos curses as he falls, fully submerging into the aquarium, while Shard stands on top of a barrier to keep him out of the water.

Trying to swim back up Kerberos is blocked by multiple barriers. Angry gurgling and pounding ensue, as Kerberos keeps trying to get out of the water. His best bet was trying to break the glass on the sides or swim up, but he keeps getting bombarded by barriers. Making it impossible for him to do any substantial damage to escape.

After a few minutes Kerberos passes out much to Shards relief. He mulls over if he should save him, and ultimately decides to jump in and drag Kerberos out. He should have some information that could be useful to the SPW. First and foremost Shard puts anti-stand cuffs before he starts to preform CPR on the man. Coughing out water Kerberos becomes alert for a moment, but passes right back with a swift karate chop from Shard to the neck.

Shard slumps over wet and exhausted on a nearby table. He used some of his coat to wrap around the worst of his wounds as he caught his breath.

“Wait…Am I forgetting something? Sh** I left Izzy alone!”

He shoots back up with new vigor running back to the theater floor where he last saw her.

———————————————————————

Izzy and Haven make it up to the roof without any trouble. “Okay give me a moment I have to call the SPW for some backup.” Izzy readjusts the bow in her grip as she pulls out a portable phone. After a few back and forth Izzy hangs up.

“They should be here any minute now. All we got to do is wait up here.”

“I-mmh-this may be unprofessional of me, but can we do a victory hug. This is my first mission and it being a successful and all….” She trails off bashful about her request.

“It’s totally fine! Come here.” Izzy pulls the taller woman into a big hug.

“It’s too bad that I have to do this.” Haven says as she brings out a dagger tipped with paralysis venom, plunging it into Izzy’s back. “We could have been such good friends, but you just had to commit the deadly sin of getting in my way.” Havens voice becomes intertwined with a deep masculine voice. As they push the dagger deeper into the paralyzed Izzy. They stab her again and again in multiple areas to make sure that she couldn’t do anything, and pushes her to the ground.

Everything was happening so fast she couldn’t react. Izzy coughed up blood, and found herself unable to summon her Stand. Internally she was panicking, and starting to get woozy from the loss of blood. She looks up at Haven trying to figure out what was happening. If she had to guess, it appeared as if there were two separate beings in front of her, but using the same body in harmony.

How could she have been so stupid to be tricked like this so easily.

“You should really consider not using code words. I just had to torture one of your members for it and you completely trusted me. Though I think it helps that I’m such a good actor.” They say more so to themselves, as they yank the bow out of Izzy’s hands. “Now I think I’ll be taking this.”

———————————————————————

Ardram finally arrives at the casino running inside. As he’s running he fetches the watch inside his coat, and opens it revealing a tiny bunny Stand inside. “Okay where is she!?”

“Noneedtobesorude. She’sotheroof.” [Out Of Touch] blurts out rapidly. Ardram clamps the watch shut, putting it back into his pocket. He full on sprints up, pushing whatever gets in his way to the side

Once he reaches the roof he found horrible scene unfolding before his eyes. A passed out Izzy lying in a pool of her own blood, and a blond haired individual, with a flickering being next to them. It wasn’t a Stand, but he couldn’t care less at that moment as he saw the blond standing over Izzy about to plunge a dagger into her chest.

Immediately Ardram uses [Fools Gold] to have a gold spike come up and try to impale the offending individual. They dodge at the last moment and look over at Ardram with a smirk.

“I think that’s our cue to leave.”

“Oh no you f***ing don’t.” Ardram yells with a look of pure unbridled rage on his face. As gold starts to cover the roof.

“Oh, I think I will.” They say as they go over to the ledge of the roof. “You could one, fight me right now, but she’ll certainly bleed out to death before our spar ends. Or two, you could ignore me and get her to a doctor. In the hopes that she’ll live. I think we both know which choice you’re going to make.”

Ardram just grits his teeth as he runs over and gently picks up Izzy. “I’m going to f***ing kill you once I see you again.”

“Oh do try. It’ll be a futile effort though.” With that Haven jumps off the building. Shadows enveloping them into darkness. Leaving no trace of them ever being there or the Stand Bow.

Ardram runs down holding Izzy’s body close to his own. He could still hear and feel her heart beat, and she was still warm to the touch. She could make it. She will make it.

He finds Shard when he running over to him looking quite pale , but looks even paler once he sees the horrible state Izzy is in. Ardram reluctantly hands her over to Shard with an unreadable expression on his face. “Heal her.”

Shard summons his Stand trying to stabilize her enough for when the paramedics would arrive. Ardram had to walk out for a moment to collect himself. He wasn’t much help when it came to trying to keep people alive, unless he made them undead. He found himself in the theater where the auction happened

Ariel stirs, and opens her eyes to see Ardram. She knew who he was from the debriefing her boss gave her, and by the look on his face the plan worked. She grins wanting to gloat their victory to the vampires face, “Looks like the boss’s plan worked. Is the pint sized b**** dead, or is it that masked freak? Hopefully both of em are rotting.” She cruelly laughs.

Without a word a gold spike erupts and pierces Ariels skull. Killing her instantly. “Oops, my hand slipped.” He numbly states, not even sparring a glance at the woman. He leaves the room once he hears the sound of sirens and rapid footsteps approaching.

[charming-charlie]

Enjoy The View

Title // Enjoy The View

Pairing // Evan Buckley x Reader

Warnings // There’s some swearing in this one. Anxiety too because fears.

Summary // Buck helps you get over your fear of heights.

Word Count // 1811

Prompt // "When you close your eyes, do you picture me?" with Evan Buckley pleasee thank you // “Do you trust me?” “Let me hold your hand.” “I’m never letting you go.” with Buck

How did the firehouse manage to be not-so busy at the moment? These were the moments that Buck savored, where he could relax and just be alone in his thoughts. Not that he didn’t mind being around people, he was a very extroverted man, but he did like his alone time often. Chim was taking a nap, Eddie had a doctor’s appointment with Christopher, Hen was talking to Karen on the phone in another room, and Bobby was putting himself to work by cooking some lunch for the crew. Everyone was doing their own thing, minding their own business.

Buck was currently sitting in his happy place. It wasn’t a comfy chair or the break room next to the broken vending machine that spat out more snacks than you paid for. No, his happy place just happened to be on top of the firetruck. It was weird, of course. Not exactly the kind of place a regular person would enjoy, but Buck wasn’t a regular person. Ever since that day, the day where a man was dangling out of an airplane and Buck, along with Eddie, had to ride on top of the truck to save him, the young firefighter just felt like it was the right place for him.

He was able to see everything. He liked having an eagle eye view of the world below him. It allowed him to see things from a different view, a different perspective. And it was there, on top of the firetruck without a care in the world, where he spotted you.

“I thought firefighters were supposed to be in the trucks, not on them?” you ask. He was obviously very surprised to see you just waltzing into the firehouse as you were.

“We have many talents,” Buck retorted. He stood up with a smile as you walked over to the side of the truck. You had to crane your neck to watch him. He was certainly high up, but he seemed so comfortable. It was a huge contrast compared to you, being afraid of heights. You had to mentally prepare yourself to get on a step stool if it came to that.

You and Buck have known each other for a while. Buck, Chim, and Maddie went for lunch one day and by some miracle, you just happened to wait on their table. It was only when another customer started choking, allowing Chim to save the day. Chim took over as a paramedic until the ambulance arrived and Buck was pretty much useless at that point. Instead, Buck struck up a conversation with you, making sure you weren’t overcome with shock and that was that. One thing led to another and you two became fast friends.

Then again, maybe it was because you needed each other. Buck’s only family was Maddie and the people at the firehouse. His job didn’t allow him to socialize much and make friends. You were a bit introverted, opposite of Buck. You didn’t like talking to people and putting yourself out there. In fact, your comfort zone was exactly that – your comfort zone. You didn’t see a reason to leave it.

“What are you doing here?” Buck asked. Not that he wasn’t happy to see you. It’s just that you never really saw his place of work before. Or him in uniform before. And like, holy freaking damn was that man fine in a uniform. Maybe you should swing by his place of employment more often.

“Do you know how to change a tire?” you asked, looking sort of defeated. It was just your luck that something like this would happen, but you were fortunate to be in the same area as the firehouse. At least you wouldn’t have to drive on your flat for very long.

“Like I said, we have many talents,” Buck answered. It took every ounce of strength to not roll your eyes at his stupid remark. Okay so he knows how to change a tire. Why isn’t he moving? Why is he staying perched on the roof of the truck like it’s his throne and the whole goddamn firehouse was his kingdom? Why did he look so good in navy? Why can’t your brain just shut up for a second?

“Are you going to help me or are you just going to stay up there?” you folded your arms as you continued looking at him. Your neck was starting to hurt from the weird angle it had to bend in order to see him. You rubbed the back of your neck, looking slightly annoyed. Buck, on the other hand, had a grin on his face and he looked like a little kid. Like just being on top of a firetruck was the highlight of his life.

“I kind of like it up here. Wanna join me?” Buck asked as he looked down at you.

You immediately shook your head, stepping away from the vehicle. Just the very thought of even climbing a ladder was sending a prickly feeling up your spine. You wanted absolutely no part of it.

He wasn’t taking no for an answer though. Shifting to the edge of the truck, directly underneath where you were standing, he couldn’t help but laugh a little at your fear. You thought he was making fun of you, but this was a rational fear. A lot of people were afraid of heights, right?

“Do you trust me?” he asked. He looked so confident from where he stood. Every bone in your body was shaking from anxiety as you nodded. Of course, you trusted him. He’s given you no reason not to. “Let me hold your hand.”

He reached out toward you, an arm outstretched and his hand open, palm ready for the taking. Your feet seemed frozen in place as you stared at his hand. It was within reach. All you had to do was reach out and grab it, and Buck would do the rest. A huge part of you wanted to go up there with him. There was just something about him. He was like a magnet and you found yourself gravitating toward him. Even then, your feet were slowly moving. You tried to stop from walking further, but your body refused to listen. It was further proof of Buck’s magnetizing personality. You wanted to be near him.

Your hand reached up and grabbed his. His fingers tightly wrapped themselves around your own. In an unstable voice, you whispered, “If you let me go, I swear…” You were trying to sound threatening, perhaps a bit menacing, but it wasn’t coming across that way. It was the fear talking.

“I’m never letting you go,” Buck said with a sweet, warm smile.

He pulled you up effortlessly and you shut your eyes tightly. Those few seconds felt like an eternity until your feet were firmly planted on the roof of the vehicle. You felt around, wanting to grab something. A railing, a wall, some sort of stable support that can trick your mind into thinking you are fine and that there’s no edge, like you are boxed in with a barrier. Unfortunately (or fortunately, if you think about it), the only support you could find was Buck, and lord did you cling onto him like a koala on a tree.

You felt Buck’s body shake, and at first you thought he was sympathizing with you until you realized the dumbass was actually laughing. Your eyes were squeezed tight so you couldn’t prove it, but the airy tone of his voice was all the proof you needed.

“When you close your eyes, do you picture me?” he asked and you wanted to hit him but you were afraid you were going to fall backwards and dive off the truck at the slightest of movements, so you kept to yourself and shook your head.

“You will never occupy my thoughts, Buckley.”

“I think I already did.”

He was holding onto both of your arms tightly, and the fun was evaporating. He had his moment and he collected himself while gripping you by the elbows. Your eyes refused to open, even though you felt a little safe. Something about being in his arms was working for you.

“Come on, take a peek. I promise you won’t fall. I’m right here,” Buck said. He was coaxing you slowly. Perhaps he felt your elevated heart rate or feeling every raggedy breath of air leave your lungs as you tried not to think about how high you were.

This was so stupid. You came here because you had a flat tire and now you are on top of a firetruck with Evan Buckley. How did you even get yourself into this mess?

“Open your eyes. Look right at me,” Buck continued to support you through this, and you felt you had no choice but to comply. You couldn’t keep your eyes closed forever, especially not on something as foreign as a heavy piece of machinery. Very slowly your eyes fluttered opened and you were staring right at his pretty face. His warm smile made you feel secure and his arms held you tightly, making you feel comfortable.

“Did I really do this?” you asked. From your tone, it was almost like you were asking yourself that question, but Buck was the one who nodded. There was no mistaking it – he was obviously so damn proud of you for making such a big change.

You refused to look anywhere else except at his face. You were praying to whatever god there was that the fire alarm wouldn’t go off and everyone had to spring into action. Your feet seemed melted to the top of the truck and you were not moving. Not even one tiny little inch. Because of that, a looming thought entered your mind and panic started to rise inside of you.

“How do we get down?” you asked, now looking terrified. Getting up wasn’t as difficult as you thought. Getting down, however? Now that’s an entirely different story.

Yet Buck didn’t seem to mind the question and he looked around as though he could find an answer. When his eyes found yours again, a warm feeling was taking the place of the anxiety that built up. He just had that look about him. There was something calming about him and his presence.

“Let’s worry about that later,” Buck replied, his brow furrowed to show he wasn’t sure how to answer your question.

Great. So first he made you come up here, and now he has no clue how to get you down. Once your feet were on solid ground for sure, you were definitely going to hit him for putting you in this position. For now though, there wasn’t much you can do except enjoy the view.

And by view, of course you mean Evan Buckley’s eyes.

[closetcinephile]

Bellarke Fiction Recs Part I

🌟 - favorite 📓- complete 📝 - in progress

Canon Divergence – darkest of marks by importantmetaphors 📓 🌟(Oneshot)

After Jake Griffin's prediction about the system failure turns out to be wrong, Clarke is given a second chance on the Ark. Janitor Bellamy Blake may or may not complicate everything for her.

Newton's Law of Universal Gravitation by Quentanilien 📝

There is no flaw in the oxygen systems for Jake Griffin to find, and life continues on the Ark as normal. A decade later, Clarke Griffin is the youngest Chancellor in Ark history, and Bellamy Blake is a thorn in her side.

Encased In Case I Need It by verbaepulchellae 📝

 Her friends have finally come back to Earth. It's been six years. Somethings have changed more than others.

Meet Me in the Morning by monroeslittle 📓(Oneshot)

“I guess one of us is messed up,” he said, “and it’s part of our hallucination that the other is, too.” He paused. “Seems appropriately hellish that my mind sticks me with you.”

She pursed her lips. “Likewise.”

AU. Clarke is trapped in a stupid time loop, and guess who's trapped with her?

Alternative Universe – Weave Me A Myrtle Crown by AJRedfern 📝 🌟

Clarke's not a woman easily shaken - she has a reputation of being 'logical, level-headed if a little cold-blooded'. And then she gets assigned as the new Paramedic In Charge to Firehouse 82.

Three Months by virginiasoil 📓

Clarke moves to the big city for her residency and rents a room from Octavia Blake. What was supposed to be a 3 month rental agreement turns into much more as she makes new friends, struggles to move away from her past, and meets one very grumpy soldier.

This is a Song About Somebody Else by grumpybell 📓

Surviving was a trick for the apocalypse; finding something worth living for is the trick for after.

Sugar by asroake 📓

Why are you interested in one of these arrangements?” he asks. Clarke blinks at him. This is the first question that actually feels like an interview question, but it’s one she’s never heard before. None of the others asked her. They probably didn’t care. Does Bellamy care? Or is this a test to make sure she’s serious?

To be honest, she hasn’t thought about the why. The money is the obvious answer, but there are dozens of other ways to make money. There’s a different pull for Clarke, one that makes her blush when she puts her finger on what it is. Despite all her cynicism while reading articles about being a sugar baby, one common argument tugs at something buried deep inside her.

She wants someone to take care of her for once.

Make My Messes Matter by prosciutto 📓(Oneshot)

“Uh huh,” she murmurs, absentminded, her eyes falling on the skin of his exposed arms, hardened with scars, the flash of a tattoo at the flex of his bicep, “so what were you doing before?”

“I was an accountant.” he says, completely straight-faced.

Or; Clarke hires a farmhand. He’s not supposed to turn out to be a werewolf.

By Tomorrow We'll Be Lost by WiinterIsNotComing 📓(Oneshot)

“I would tell you everything,” he murmured against her skin, “if you asked.”

She swallowed and stared at the ceiling. “Even if it got you killed?”

He pulled away to look at her. “Oh Clarke.” He breathed out. “Being near you is enough to get me killed.”