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DESTIEL TROPE COLLECTION 2023 | DAY 14 | First Responder AU
Open my eyes to you | @malicmalic
Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2,884 Main Tags/Warnings: Car accidents, Rescue, Meet cute, homeless Castiel, homeless Jack, Castiel is Jack's parent, Happy Ending. Summary: Dean had no idea that choosing to take the first actual walk in his life would change it forever. Based on a discord Server love & winchester writing challenge - Same Sentence Start: "He watches the tail lights flicker as the lake swallows the car." (Fear not, the Impala was not injured during this story. Can't say the same for good old Lincoln).
Emergency Call | @peanutbutterjelly-pie
Rating: General Word Count: 4,686 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Hurt/Comfort, Dispatcher Dean, Single Parent Castiel, Hurt Castiel, Toddler Jack Summary: As a 911 dispatcher Dean gets a lot of emergency calls every single day. But the one he receives on this particular Friday afternoon might turn out to be different than anything else before.
Six Greys Exposure | @aaronthe8thdemon
Rating: Mature Word Count: 15,268 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Character Death, Alternate Universe, Firefighter Dean Winchester, Soldier Castiel, Tragic Romance, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Procedures, Hospitals Summary: Dean’s starting to feel sick, like stomach flu sick, but he doesn’t say anything. There aren’t enough rapid intervention crews, so now Benny, Dean and Aaron are assigned to that. Less than ten minutes later a mayday is called and the three of them have to climb the roof with a stretcher. It’s not easy to get where they need to go. There’s a metric fuckton of weak spots in the roof that they have to pick their way around, so it takes longer than Dean would like for them to reach the victims. It’s a two-man attack line crew, the one who called the mayday is sitting beside the hose and her buddy is lying down practically unconscious. Aaron helps the first firefighter stand up and head for the ladder. Dean and Benny haul the second one on the stretcher. Dean almost pukes into his mask, but he doesn’t, because he’s busy and it would just slow him down. He refuses to become a casualty.
Don't Let Go | @envydean
Rating: Mature Word Count: 28,578 Main Tags/Warnings: EMT!Castiel, mechanic!Dean, alcoholic!Dean, Alcoholism, Car Accidents, Hospitals, Recovery, PTSD, Descriptions of Injury, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angst, Trying to fall in love, Hurt/Comfort Summary: Dean Winchester’s life is a mess. Ever since his father’s death, a downward spiral has seen his occasional beer become something of a crutch. Then, a revelation has him going to see his brother in California—except he doesn’t make it and ends up in a nasty accident, destroying the Impala. Air rescue paramedic, Castiel, and his partner Benny are the ones to pull him out of the wreck and that’s just the start of it. He forms a tentative friendship with Dean and manages to convince him he needs help and that he can be there for Dean. It should have been all uphill from there—because getting sober is easy, right?—except it isn’t and their relationship is thrown into turmoil at the wrong time. Slowly, they learn to accept each other once again.
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palmviewfm · 28 days
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Following on from the last ask- I’m an absolute sucker for older muses and would love to bring one to the group! So most wanted 45+ faces from the group pls? And possibly what occupations you’d like filled for them? x
oh, this makes me so happy ! we've got quite the list so i'm including it under the cut ! as for occupations, personally i would love to see business owners, professors, firefighters, emts, doctors, art gallery owner, event/wedding planners, fashion designers, actors/actresses, etc..
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our most wanted 45+ faces include: bianca lawson, diego luna, gabrielle union, jessica chastian, katheryn winnick, pedro pascal, sandra oh, kathryn hahn, rosamund pike, timothy olyphant, keri russell, uma thurman, lena headey, lucy liu, jennifer connelly, jennifer love hewitt, aj cook, jon hamm, cillian murphy, matthew lillard, tawney cypress, simone kessell, hannah waddingham, alexander skarsgård, karl urban, hugh jackman, idris elba, amy adams, sofia vergara, eva mendes, salma hayek, kerry washington, catherine zeta jones, paul rudd, andrew lincoln, naomi watts, amy adams, ke huy kuan, james mcavoy, bryce dallas howard, reese witherspoon, neve campbell, rachel mcadams and alice braga !!! honorable mentions: constance wu, gemma chan, jamie chung, jessica alba, and john krasinski.
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movestrongfit · 1 year
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MoveStrong Training Event and Ribbon Cutting at The LINC
A new outdoor fitness site in Jefferson City opens its doors to the public
After two years of planning, the LINC and Lincoln University completed another step of their partnership in offering health and wellness possibilities to locals and students in Jefferson City, MO.
A brand new MoveStrong Outdoor Functional Fitness Zone is now open to public after a ribbon cutting ceremony and training event last week.
“Over the years, we’ve continued to grow with increased fitness opportunities. Today we celebrate another edition as we celebrate the MoveStrong functional fitness area.”, says Jeremy Faulk, chief if staff at Lincoln.
Despite the hot temperatures, locals came out to learn about the various uses of the new equipment and were able to try them out in a Movestrong led group workout.
Subsequent to speeches and ribbon cutting, the MoveStrong team demonstrated the most efficient use of the tools and showed how to scale each exercise to different fitness levels and abilities. All participants were then able to join the first workout class on site.
The new MoveStrong Outdoor Functional Fitness Zone is ideal to serve a large variety of people with different lifestyles, fitness levels, and goals. Installed right off the greenway, the 40’ x 40’ site is divided into different training zones, each focusing on another training aspect. Balance, agility, strength and power, conditioning or stretching are only a few of the exercises that can be performed. To ensure comfort, instruction and diversity while working out, the site features proven FitGround equipment and specialty fitness surfacing.
Other than traditional gym equipment, MoveStrong’s fitness sites focus on full body movement that supports everyday activities and overall wellbeing.
“Exercise is super important. Being outside in fresh air and sunshine is super important.
You’re driving to work, sitting at work, watching TV — why go to the gym and sit on the machine, right?, says Jared Kuka, founder and CEO of MoveStrong.
The event was the official opening of the site and the organizers are excited to see it being used in the upcoming weeks.
About Company
- MoveStrong offers customized gym equipment, outdoor fitness courses, training accessories, and apparel.
- We accompany all customers through the whole project with the support of budget, design, layout, construction, installation, equipment configuration, and education on the final fitness site for the most efficient use.
- Mainly industrial customers for outdoor fit ground and obstacle courses, including recreation centers, parks, health clubs, schools, military, fire and EMT, law enforcement, obstacle course races.
- Made in USA
For further information and media inquiries visit www.movestrongfit.com or call toll free at 855-728–8700
Links & Further information:
- https://www.movestrongfit.com/whomovesstrong/2023/8/27/movestrong-training-eventamp-ribbon-cutting-at-the-linc
- https://www.movestrongfit.com/whomovesstrong/2023/5/27/lets-get-functional-fitoutdoors
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ao3feed-the100 · 2 years
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If It Weren't For Bad Luck
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/aYQ5mK3
by eternaleponine
Lexa isn't claustrophobic. She just doesn't like small, enclosed spaces much. So when the elevator she's in stops abruptly, it's bad enough. When the woman trapped with her goes into labor, things go from bad to worse. Sure, as a firefighter Lexa is also a trained EMT, but she's off duty, has no supplies, and has never delivered a baby. She has a general idea of how things are supposed to go... and she's pretty sure this isn't it.
Luckily, help is only a phone call away.
For Clexa Week 2023 - Day 6 - Workplace Romance
Moodboard here
Words: 6717, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English
Fandoms: The 100 (TV)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Categories: F/F
Characters: Lexa (The 100), Octavia Blake, Anya (The 100), Clarke Griffin, Lincoln (The 100)
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Workplace Romance, Trapped In Elevator, Childbirth, Phone Calls & Telephones, Firefighter Lexa (The 100), Doctor Clarke Griffin, Clexa Week 2023 (The 100)
read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/aYQ5mK3
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wytfut · 2 years
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4
I get opportunities for what I like to think as great adventures. I have no idea why the gods shine these on me, but I surely do enjoy them.
Here’s 1 just recent.
When covid first hit the area, Omaha Fire Dept. contacted the City of Waverly, that they had in their possession, Waverly's very first fire truck. 1934 Ford BB...
This piece of information was not known by anyone in Waverly. No one alive most likely didn’t even know what truck Waverly had back in 1934. 
Would Waverly be interested in purchasing? Waverly had an anonymous donation, and became owners to this truck.
 I contacted Jake (VP at Gana Trucking) to have them donate a ride for this nonrunning truck back home. 
Back story...
Waverly purchased this truck brand new in 1934, and in 1954 this truck was at a fire and failed. Waverly FD immediately bought another brand new Ford and sold this one to the Community of Roca (south of Lincoln, and still in lancaster county). 
Roca had plans to get it running, but never got the job done. They placed it on public auction, and really didn’t have good results. Until an Omaha Fire fighter was visiting the local bar, and heard, and was talked into bidding on this truck. He bid $300 for it, and got it.  (1970)
Him and buddy drove it back to Omaha, before the motor completely destroyed itself about 10 miles short ...
New motor, and it was used as a parade vehicle. And then Another new motor (more modern) and many parades, he donated it to OFD.... unofficially with no real paper work done. 
Many parades later, and in 1999, it was retired to a makeshift small museum, that OFD wanted to remodel..... thus they parted with the truck to Waverly.
To continue. 
And it arrived.... Hadn’t been run since 1999. We had no money to speak of to get it going. No real place to keep it. 2 guys and myself became “curators” of this truck via ownership by the City of Waverly.
Mostly my assignment was to get it running. Aaron Hummel did a batch of wiring, plus did quite a bit of banging on doors to get some funding. Brian Johnson did the paint work (OFD painted their logo on the hood and doors, not vinyl stickers, a different time).
Mayor of Waverly owned a rental storage unit company, and gave us a year free of rent to keep it. 
And we got a lot of things done. Ran good. Lights, sirens all worked. And it was presentable for parades.
After a year past we didn’t have a place to keep it, and one of the fire dept members had a shed on his farm with some room. Good people, in a nice building. 
Truck had to be moved occasionally because of farm stuff happening in that shed. Tranny was leaking pretty good leaving its mark, and one of the dually tires went completely flat (just from rot). All this in less than a year.
I got it to my home to get tire fixed. No one wanted to fix this old “locker” wheel, as “split rims are dangerous” (dammit, it isn’t a spllt rim).  Finally found someone in Lincoln that would fix this type of wheel.  During this escapade, I discovered it had an over heating issue, and a huge vacuum leak. 
Got all that done about the same time we learned that the Fire Fighters Museum in Kearney wanted it to have it on display for about a year.   https://nebraskafirefightersmuseum.org
I fixed vacuum leak, gave up on tranny for time being, and flushed out radiator. Shined up the sows ear, and got Gana to transport it to Kearney.
Aaron and I followed it out to Kearney and once we arrived (we had never been there before) we were pretty much overwhelmed by this place. A lot of time money and effort was put into this fine building. Volunteer Fire fighter/Emt’s kick ass.
I also noticed a really old fire truck loaded on a trailer (it had done its year on display and was going home). It was a 1910 American Lafrance with OFD still painted on the hood. I noted on the truck pulling the trailer, its license plate was “49″ or Howard County. 
Side note:.......
Howard County... or the town of Boelus is the town from where my blood line is from. There used to be many Whitefoots in the town of Boelus. My Grandparents and Parents grew up there....... I know of this town very well, had spent lots of time there when I grew up ......
I went back inside, found the owner of the pulling truck, and started asking questions. 
That 1910 OFD truck, was retired from Omaha, and put up for auction. Boelus bought it used, as their first fire truck (I don’t know what year, but I’d guess before 1920).  Boelus being a small town, didn’t have much money, so they never removed the OFD, and just used it as needed. 
Interestingly enough, this old truck still runs. They drove it onto the trailer. And it is far from restored. Very dirty, rusty, fire grime, and not shiney.
Another truck was loaded on a trailer. Not related to anything about me, but was very cool. It was a fully restored REO Speedwagon fire truck. It was just Gorgeous. They were wrapping parts and pieces in plastic wrap for the journey home. Its was Friend Nebraska's truck. I’m sorry I don’t know what year, but I’d guess in the late 20′s to mid 30′s.
Talking with these guys..... Apparent Curators for the truck, they had pictures of this truck with the band REO Speed wagon sitting in it. 
An interesting thing they do at this museum to help build funds... Each truck that sits on their floor, they take a very nice digital picture of it. They then have the picture transferred to Tshirts, and sell them. The shirts are done very nicely. Yup I bought a Tshirt of Boelus’s American Lafrance, and I’m very proud of it. I’ll be back up there to buy a Waverly Tshirt soon I’m sure.
I was pretty much giddy with a very cool adventure, for several days after that. The odds of something like that happening are incredible. Plus the beginning story of retrieving this truck.... pretty amazing.
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Sirens; Part 1 
 Summary: Octavia Blake is a rookie hotshot straight out of the police academy; fiery as hell and just as stubborn, she's ready to take on the city. Lincoln is a seasoned EMT, used to butting heads to make sure his patients get to the hospital while they're still breathing; except he's never butted heads with anyone as hot headed as Octavia and as fate would have it, the damned rookie keeps answering all the same emergency response calls. They're probably going to get each other fired... if they don't fall for each other first.
 (A slow-burn, modern linctavia AU requested by @brooklina)
“How’d the first day go, Officer Blake?”
Octavia shrugged out of her jacket as she shot her older brother an irritated look. “It was shit.” She strutted over to where Bellamy sat on the couch, arm slung over his long-time girlfriend Clarke Griffin, and snatched the beer he was holding out of his hand.
“Did something happen?” Bellamy asked as she downed the entire bottle and lobbed it into the nearest trash can.
“You mean aside from the drunk lady who flashed her tits at me and tried to bitch slap my FTO? Then no, nothing happened.”
“So what’s the problem again?” Clarke asks, leaning around Bellamy slightly.
“Nothing happening is the problem! I joined the police force to help people! Not clean vomit out of the back of a squad car.” She plopped down on the arm of the couch next to her brother.
“It’s your first day, O,” Bellamy reassured. “Besides, it could be worse. Miller’s K9 was so nervous he crapped all over the car and Miller had to spend the entire day with his head out the window.”
“I knew there was a reason I loved Bruiser,” Octavia replied.
“What about your field training officer? She’s cool right? All the EMTs that come through the hospital love her.”
“Indra? She’s amazing! And terrifying. Some of the guys said she once knocked out a meth dealer with one punch.”
“I saw that,” Bellamy replied, “it was beautiful.” Bellamy joined the Army right out of high school, and joined the Arkadia SWAT team shortly after his return. On a few rare occasions, he’d had the pleasure of working alongside Arkadia PD’s finest officer. 
“Is that the same meth dealer that said she wanted to have your babies while you were handcuffing her?” Clarke asked.
“Yikes!” Octavia shuddered.
“No, that was a different dealer,” Bellamy replied.
“Well, on that note, I’m gonna go find somewhere I can peacefully scream into an abyss,” Octavia said as she jumped off the couch.
“Tomorrow will be better, O, you’ll see,” Bellamy assured.
Octavia hoped so.
Despite all the chemicals and a power wash, the squad car still, somehow, managed to smell vaguely of vomit and b.o. Octavia cracked the windows and fiddled with the radio to try to distract herself, while Indra sat stoically beside her.
“That smell’s gonna go away, right?”
Indra shrugged, “You get used to it.”
Octavia suppressed a groan as she fiddled with the radio again. The only action they’d seen was a homeless man surfing in a stolen shopping cart down a busy intersection... and freaking John Murphy stole the call from them! 
“Does anything ever happen in this town?” She muttered to herself.
As if on que, the radio crackled with static before a chipper voice called out, “Units we have a 210 in progress on Polis Avenue.”
Octavia clicked the receiver so fast she thought it was going to break, while Indra whipped the car down a back alley to get to the scene in time. 
“This is David27. 10-4,” Octavia barked into the receiver as Indra drove over a curb to get into the parking lot of a popular liquor store. An armed robbery was much more her speed then drunken old ladies.
A moment later another voice came over the radio, “This is Zebra32. Going 23.”
“Ah come on! Does it have to be Murphy as backup?” Octavia groaned to herself.
“This isn’t the time for a turf war, Octavia,” Indra reprimanded as Murphy’s squad car pulled up on the other side of the parking lot. 
“This is David27. Going 23.”
Just as they were about to step out of the car, the front window of the liquor store erupted into tiny shards of glass. 
“998! Shots fired!” Murphy barked into his radio.
As he was speaking, a figure in a dark sweatshirt bolted from the side door of the liquor store
“Adam24. Suspect is fleeing on foot. David27 and I are in pursuit.” Indra sprinted after him, with Octavia on her heels, while Murphy went to double check the liquor store.
“Zebra32. Code 40. Civilian has been shot. Repeat, Code 40,” Murphy’s voice crackled over the radio as Indra and Octavia continued to pursue the suspect down the street.
“Freeze!” Indra ordered.
Little good it did. The suspect ducked into the nearest alley and began knocking over trash cans to slow them down. 
Octavia leaped over one, skirted another, and shooting past Indra, managed to snag the hood of the suspect’s jacket and yank him backwards. The suspect toppled over backwards, and Octavia, thrown off balance by the sudden change of direction, nearly fell on top of him.
“Freeze!” Indra ordered again, reaching where the two of them fell.
The suspect had rolled onto his side, legs tucked into his chest as he coughed and sputtered. “YOU BITCH! You tried to strangle me!”
Octavia, on her knees now, rolled him over onto his back. “You shouldn’t have run.”
“Octavia,” Indra warned.
Octavia gave him a quick pat down, finding a gun stashed in the back pocket of his jeans, and then slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. “Hope cheap booze was worth jail time,” she snickered as she hauled him to his feet.
“I want a lawyer,” the man replied.
Octavia rolled her eyes, “Yeah and I want-”
“Octavia,” Indra warned again.
Octavia gritted her teeth and quickly read him his Miranda Rights as they walked him back towards the squad car. Parked between Murphy’s and their squad car, was an ambulance, it’s red and blue lights flashing. 
A couple of EMTs were wheeling the injured store manager out on a stretcher as Octavia and Indra approached with the perp. 
“Indra,” one of the paramedics acknowledged as the others raised the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. “You alright?” 
Indra stuck out her hand, shaking the younger man’s eagerly. “Good to see you, Lincoln. We’re fine. How’s the civilian?”
“Fine?!” The perp shouted incredulously. “This bitch tried to choke me to death! I almost died in an alley!”
“Is he hurt?” Lincoln took a quick look at the man, taking in the new rip in his jeans and the dirt around his clothes. A bit of a bruise was starting to form on his jaw from where his face had hit the floor but he was otherwise in tact.
Octavia glowered, “He’s fine! He’s being a baby.”
“I should check him out, anyway,” Lincoln insisted, glancing quickly back at the ambulance, where one of the other paramedics was jumping out of the back to grab a medical bag off the ground. “Wait a sec! We may have one more!”
“Please,” the perp’s voice lowered pleadingly as he saw a chance to escape jail time a little longer. “I.. I can’t breathe so well. I’ve got asthma.”
“No you don’t!” Octavia hissed.
“Do you know this man, personally?” Lincoln countered, folding his arms across his chest. He’d dealt with his share of hot headed police officers, and he wasn’t about to take lip from a rookie straight out of the Academy. 
“Well no...”
Lincoln scoffed as he turned to Indra, “Your partner must be new. This is procedure, Indra, you know that.” 
Indra sighed, “He’s right, Octavia.”
“But-!”
“I don’t know about you,” Lincoln said, turning back to Octavia, “but it’s my job to make sure people are safe. You can come yourself to watch him, but I’m taking him to a hospital.”
“Oh! I’m seeing stars!” The perp wailed.
“I’ll take him,” Indra responded.
“Indra!”
“That’s enough, Octavia. Lincoln’s right. We have to let them check him out.”
Octavia glared at Lincoln, who motioned them towards the still waiting ambulance.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!”
“Screaming into the abyss kinda early today, huh?” Bellamy leaned against the door frame, sweatpants low on his hips as he downed half a water bottle in one gulp. 
Octavia rolled onto her back, leaving the mountain of pillows she’d been screaming into behind for the time being as she sat up. “It’s bullshit, Bellamy! Since when do we coddle perps?”
“It’s for your own safety, O,” Bellamy reassured as he came to sit on the edge of her bed. “A lot of good cops lost their badges for not letting their suspects get proper treatment. And with crackpot defense attorneys like Echo working for the city, you gotta cover your ass.”
“You should have seen how that EMT looked at me, Bell,” Octavia grumbled, “like I was the bad guy!”
“Lincoln?” 
“How’d you know?”
“He’s a Victim’s Advocate, and he’s pretty intense about it,” Bellamy explained. “He once made Monroe cry, and she was a Marine.”
Octavia grimaced.
“Don’t let him get to you, O. You did a good job, and the guy’s still going to jail, just a little slower. Count it as a victory.”
She could hardly call it a victory when it had ended with the ambulance’s sirens blaring down the street, taking her perp with it. It wasn’t supposed to be this way! She was supposed to catch the bad guys and lock them up, not have them taken away by some over-concerned EMT.
Bellamy reached out and gave her shoulder a squeeze. “You gotta learn to live with policies, O, even if ya don’t like ‘em.”
She groaned as she threw herself back into her mountain of pillows. “Is it always gonna be like this?”
Bellamy stood, a grin on his face, “Depends on what calls you take.”
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brxkcnengineer · 3 years
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@biochemiist​
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Fitz had been working for the SHIELD 616 for just about two years. Becoming a firefighter hadn’t been his original plan for his life, but something about the team had just felt right, so he’d made the change from volunteer to full-time, and never looked back. Sure, it was dangerous, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t sometimes consider the what-ifs, but he liked his work, liked his team.
When one of the EMTs had left, having finished medical school and moved on to become a trauma doctor, there had been an open position. The fire captain, Coulson, and the paramedic captain, had interviewed people to fill Lincoln’s spot, though Fitz hadn’t had a chance to meet them until today.
It had been a relatively easy day, with the crew taking advantage of the gap between calls. Fitz was flat on his back on the creeper seat, only his feet sticking out from under the rig, when he heard a new voice call out a hesitant hello.
“Jus’ a second!” he called back, shifting his feet so he could push himself out from under the firetruck. He was sure that he looked a right mess, his hands greasy, his face, too. He was also sure that he’d have to change, his shirt dirty from being on the floor.
When he finally resurfaced from under the truck, he was immediately looking up at the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. Her hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, and she was wearing the EMT uniform. ( So she was Lincoln’s replacement, then. ) For a moment, Fitz couldn’t remember how to breathe, his mouth open slightly as he stared up at her, still flat on his back, covered in engine grease.
“... Hi.”
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qvid-pro-qvo · 2 years
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third part to under the cover of night. mike dodds x reader. started but never finished.
tw: blood, gun violence, canon-typical violence, major character injury.
-
Bang.
Your head whips around to look at the house, the closed front door doing nothing to shield the sound of the shot. Chief Dodds is sprinting forward, then Liv, and you’re a close third, only barely getting beat out thanks to your feet tangling on the steps. You hear more people behind you, first responders responding, and when you get through the entryway you can see Chief Dodds crouched low behind the couch -
Oh, god. Oh, fuck.
That’s blood. That’s - that’s Mike’s -
Something like bile builds in your throat, a sudden convulsion as the realization fully hits you. “S-Somebody get a medic! Medic!” you shout. It barely sounds like your own voice, as your jaw stays hanging open at the pool of blood steadily getting larger on the hardwood. You see a hand - Mike’s - lift, grab Chief Dodds’ shirt, tighten in a grip before falling away. But you can’t hear his voice.
“Medic! We need a stretcher!” you shout again, voice cracking under the strain. Then you’re being pushed aside by the EMTs. You stumble back, right into Liv, whose hands come up to grab your arms, steady you. The two of you move out of the house, away from the crime scene. You think. Everything starts to blur.
It’s a crime scene. The whole place is surrounded by shining lights, reds and blues making your eyes swim. The last thing you catch sight of is Mike’s form shoved into an ambulance that does not hesitate to floor it. You think Amanda says something. You think Sonny adds on. Then they’re both gone, and it’s you and Liv and the asphalt that starts to tilt.
“They’ve got him,” your lieutenant says. You can’t escape the shaking in her own voice. The uncertainty. “They’ve got him. They’ll get him to the hospital.”
“He’s gotta - no, he can’t, he’s got -” All you see is the way he smiled at you when he told you that he loved you, he loves you, and now he’s getting fucking carried away. Was that just today? This morning?
“They’re taking him to Lincoln.” Liv keeps going. (Later, you’ll suspect she had to, to keep herself upright.) You can feel the way she’s gripping you through your shirt and police jacket. “We can head there once we settle things here.” And then, when she whispers, “It’s on me.”
Regret. It fills your mouth with the bile you’re forced to swallow down. The fight with Mike barely seems to matter when your whole world starts to crumble at the thought of his body hitting the floor and never getting back up. The thought of losing him completely – it’s suddenly too much, and you have to turn away from the fading sirens.
“No, it’s not, Liv,” you whisper. Because you know who it’s really on, who really deserves the blame. You see the way Mike’s face falls, no more smile, just pain and blood and a hospital stay, a surgery he shouldn’t need. “It’s on me.”
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The Egg
By: Andy Weir
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
78 notes · View notes
thed4rkhand · 3 years
Text
The Egg Theory
Hey guys! Since I think we’ll be doing cute manifestation stuff this week, I really wanted to share this, it’s something that really helped me understand Neville Goddard and other philosophers much better.
You know how they say we’re the centre of our own universe, time isn’t really a concept, live in the end, and all? And how it goes completely over our heads because no one is explaining it well? Here’s where I started, reading this story. So I thought it would be a wonderful start to the week, and then we can move onto cooler and more intense methods and understanding, so that you guys take little to no effort when manifesting like a pro!
We often underestimate or are just unable to comprehend just how powerful we as people are, and no wonder it happens, no one really explains it to us. So here’s the egg theory, read through it and let me know, some light reading for the course. Read it once, read it twice, you’ll be overwhelmed and think wtf, but honestly, it’s so integral to reject the idea before slowly sinking to a realisation and bouncing back up more powerful than ever! I always understand better when it’s like a story more so than a monologue, so hopefully it works for you guys too!
The Egg Theory - and how it explains everything
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
 
------
"The Egg" - a short story by author Andy Weir.
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brooklynislandgirl · 3 years
Text
The sensation of something brushing lightly against his knee drew him slowly from pitch black nothingness, each unwitting tug on his conscious mind bringing a fresh wave of pain. The bright glare of headlights filling the interior of his car, the sound of metal crunching as the old Lincoln took the brunt of the truck’s impact and hit the ditch. His first deep inhale brought regret as pain radiated out from his chest. 
Raylan’s hand slid from the steering wheel, fingers cramped from how tightly he’d held on even out cold. It hit his knee and whatever brushed against it now lightly tapped his hand. With far more effort than he should have needed, he opened his eyes and tried to focus on the object demanding his attention. Light was dim, hard to see by, but the object caught just enough for him to realize what it was. 
“Now you laugh all you want but seventh inning stretch and the Marlins got a shot of actually bein’ in this game?” The small silver ’M’ keychain, the long nosed fish curling around the letter, caught the bright afternoon sun as Raylan produced it from his pocket. While running out to get them drinks, he’d stopped in the gift shop and grabbed the trinket on a whim. It didn’t take him long to think of a use. 
The Marlins weren’t his team but he’d wanted to take Beth to an honest professional baseball game and they were local to Miami. Team wasn’t doing so hot but it wasn’t about the score but the atmosphere, the crack of the baseball hitting the bat and every cheer and jeer from the crowd around them. 
Dropping down into the seat beside Beth, he wrapped his long arms around her, tucking the keychain into her hands and wrapping his around hers. “Can’t hurt, can it?” Raylan gave her a boyish grin and rest his chin on her shoulder, feeling the movement as she laughed at him being ridiculous. 
The pitcher took his cue, straight down the line. Metal bat and ball connected and against all batting average odds, the ball continued in the opposite direction, soaring over infield, outfield, out. They were cheering the loudest they had all game but neither one of them figured to release the keychain in their hands. 
Or maybe they just liked it that way.
Another wave of shooting pain as he drew in a breath, this time grasping the keychain for grounding. Raylan didn’t let go, instead gaze flickering upwards to the spiderwebbed glass, the full moon in the sky turned into abstract art.
He closed his eyes again and exhaled. “Bring me a little more luck, Wildcat.“ 
~*~
Token Meme || Accepting
Beth has never been what one could call a heavy sleeper. Two or three weeks might pass between nights where her rest is deep and lasts for more than a few hours. This is not one of those times. And even if she wasn’t groggy, she wouldn’t be able to pinpoint what exactly it was that had her stirring from the chair she’d managed to fold herself into, some living effigy of one of Ireland’s ancient bog-bodies.
Perhaps it had been a change in the way Raylan was breathing. The rustle of a sheet. A too loud patient two rooms over, the floor nurses who had overlooked her being here long after visiting hours. They were kind to their own, and they had seen the look on her face as she ran into the ER lobby after getting the ICE call. She still has to figure out what she’s going to buy the EMT who called. Maybe a house.
Lashes flutter open with a little difficulty, glued together as they were from the tears she couldn’t keep in check, and maybe she’s not as alert as she should be. Moves like her limbs are in water but she puts feet on the floor and shifts over to the side of the bed. Her fingertips glide over the back of his hand, the one whose arm isn’t full of IV tubing and wasn’t used to draw blood. His skin is too cold, she doesn’t like the chill of hospital rooms even if that’s all part of her lifelong work. She knows why they do it that way just doesn’t find it comforting or comfortable.
Her gaze is slow to trek it’s way up to his face while her fingers slip around his to gently hold his hand. She tries to offer him a smile even if she doesn’t really feel it inside. There’s too much worry ~just a bump on the head, cuts and scrapes from shattered glass, bruises from the seat-belt. Keeping him overnight for observation, but should be discharged tomorrow night~ brewing in her belly.
“Hey, you.” Two words. Softly pitched and she tries to keep all those feelings to herself, only leaving her gratitude that he’s still alive and relatively unscathed, leaving the tenderness she feels for him there to warm her tone. “Gotta tell ya, gave me one heck’a scare. Dunno what happened, and mebbe tell me later but some tow-driver was comin’ back from droppin’ off a car when he saw yours. Called 911 an’ so...you’re in good hands. Di---Richard--can stay wi’ Willa if ya wan’ see Winona.” There’s no hint of jealousy at all over Raylan’s ex-wife, but she’s never had a high opinion of the woman’s significant effort. She should have probably tried to take things slower but she also didn’t know how awake Raylan really was, or for how long.
“Wan some waddah or somet’ing?” She takes the Marlin keychain off his chest and slips it into her pocket.
2 notes · View notes
The Egg
By: Andy Weir
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
1 note · View note
bloomygirls · 4 years
Text
You were on your way home when you died.
It was a car accident. Nothing particularly remarkable, but fatal nonetheless. You left behind a wife and two children. It was a painless death. The EMTs tried their best to save you, but to no avail. Your body was so utterly shattered you were better off, trust me.
And that’s when you met me.
“What… what happened?” You asked. “Where am I?”
“You died,” I said, matter-of-factly. No point in mincing words.
“There was a… a truck and it was skidding…”
“Yup,” I said.
“I… I died?”
“Yup. But don’t feel bad about it. Everyone dies,” I said.
You looked around. There was nothingness. Just you and me. “What is this place?” You asked. “Is this the afterlife?”
“More or less,” I said.
“Are you god?” You asked.
“Yup,” I replied. “I’m God.”
“My kids… my wife,” you said.
“What about them?”
“Will they be all right?”
“That’s what I like to see,” I said. “You just died and your main concern is for your family. That’s good stuff right there.”
You looked at me with fascination. To you, I didn’t look like God. I just looked like some man. Or possibly a woman. Some vague authority figure, maybe. More of a grammar school teacher than the almighty.
“Don’t worry,” I said. “They’ll be fine. Your kids will remember you as perfect in every way. They didn’t have time to grow contempt for you. Your wife will cry on the outside, but will be secretly relieved. To be fair, your marriage was falling apart. If it’s any consolation, she’ll feel very guilty for feeling relieved.”
“Oh,” you said. “So what happens now? Do I go to heaven or hell or something?”
“Neither,” I said. “You’ll be reincarnated.”
“Ah,” you said. “So the Hindus were right,”
“All religions are right in their own way,” I said. “Walk with me.”
You followed along as we strode through the void. “Where are we going?”
“Nowhere in particular,” I said. “It’s just nice to walk while we talk.”
“So what’s the point, then?” You asked. “When I get reborn, I’ll just be a blank slate, right? A baby. So all my experiences and everything I did in this life won’t matter.”
“Not so!” I said. “You have within you all the knowledge and experiences of all your past lives. You just don’t remember them right now.”
I stopped walking and took you by the shoulders. “Your soul is more magnificent, beautiful, and gigantic than you can possibly imagine. A human mind can only contain a tiny fraction of what you are. It’s like sticking your finger in a glass of water to see if it’s hot or cold. You put a tiny part of yourself into the vessel, and when you bring it back out, you’ve gained all the experiences it had.
“You’ve been in a human for the last 48 years, so you haven’t stretched out yet and felt the rest of your immense consciousness. If we hung out here for long enough, you’d start remembering everything. But there’s no point to doing that between each life.”
“How many times have I been reincarnated, then?”
“Oh lots. Lots and lots. An in to lots of different lives.” I said. “This time around, you’ll be a Chinese peasant girl in 540 AD.”
“Wait, what?” You stammered. “You’re sending me back in time?”
“Well, I guess technically. Time, as you know it, only exists in your universe. Things are different where I come from.”
“Where you come from?” You said.
“Oh sure,” I explained “I come from somewhere. Somewhere else. And there are others like me. I know you’ll want to know what it’s like there, but honestly you wouldn’t understand.”
“Oh,” you said, a little let down. “But wait. If I get reincarnated to other places in time, I could have interacted with myself at some point.”
“Sure. Happens all the time. And with both lives only aware of their own lifespan you don’t even know it’s happening.”
“So what’s the point of it all?”
“Seriously?” I asked. “Seriously? You’re asking me for the meaning of life? Isn’t that a little stereotypical?”
“Well it’s a reasonable question,” you persisted.
I looked you in the eye. “The meaning of life, the reason I made this whole universe, is for you to mature.”
“You mean mankind? You want us to mature?”
“No, just you. I made this whole universe for you. With each new life you grow and mature and become a larger and greater intellect.”
“Just me? What about everyone else?”
“There is no one else,” I said. “In this universe, there’s just you and me.”
You stared blankly at me. “But all the people on earth…”
“All you. Different incarnations of you.”
“Wait. I’m everyone!?”
“Now you’re getting it,” I said, with a congratulatory slap on the back.
“I’m every human being who ever lived?”
“Or who will ever live, yes.”
“I’m Abraham Lincoln?”
“And you’re John Wilkes Booth, too,” I added.
“I’m Hitler?” You said, appalled.
“And you’re the millions he killed.”
“I’m Jesus?”
“And you’re everyone who followed him.”
You fell silent.
“Every time you victimized someone,” I said, “you were victimizing yourself. Every act of kindness you’ve done, you’ve done to yourself. Every happy and sad moment ever experienced by any human was, or will be, experienced by you.”
You thought for a long time.
“Why?” You asked me. “Why do all this?”
“Because someday, you will become like me. Because that’s what you are. You’re one of my kind. You’re my child.”
“Whoa,” you said, incredulous. “You mean I’m a god?”
“No. Not yet. You’re a fetus. You’re still growing. Once you’ve lived every human life throughout all time, you will have grown enough to be born.”
“So the whole universe,” you said, “it’s just…”
“An egg.” I answered. “Now it’s time for you to move on to your next life.”
And I sent you on your way.
2 notes · View notes
magicandmayhcm · 4 years
Text
updated muse list
9-1-1
athena grant
ashlynn schulz | 17 | victoria justice | hen/karen foster daughter
bobby nash
charlotte buckley-diaz | 15 | sabrina carpenter | buck/eddie daughter
eddie diaz
evan buckley
harper nash | 16 | sarah ramos | bobby/marcy daughter
henrietta wilson
howard han
jonah nash | 21 | firefighter | tyler blackburn | bobby’s nephew
maddie buckley
may grant
michael grant
9-1-1 lone star
carlos reyes
gabby ryder | 16 | troian bellisario | grace/judd daughter
grace ryder
judd ryder
owen strand
tk strand
victoria strand | 16 | liana liberato | owen/npc daughter
one chicago 
bryan jones
christopher coleman
olivia anderson
criminal minds
aaron hotchner
alexandra hotchner | 17 | ashley benson | aaron/haley daughter
annabelle lamontagne | 16 | sabrina carpenter | will/jj daughter
aria hotchner-reid | 16 | willa holland | aaron/spencer daughter
brynnlee reid-morgan | 17 | troian bellisario | derek/spencer daughter
derek morgan
emily prentiss
rylee rossi | 19 | alexandra daddario | david/erin daughter
will lamontagne jr.
glee
alayna schuester | 21 | brittany snow | terri/will daughter
blaine anderson
jeff sterling
kurt hummel
rachel berry
will schuester
grey’s anatomy
abigail hunt | 16 | debby ryan | teddy/owen daughter
addison montgomery
alex karev
april kepner
arizona robbins
atticus lincoln
ben warren
callie torres
chloe montgomery-shepherd | 17 | bella thorne | derek/addison daughter
courtney altman-koracick | 16 | ashley benson | tom/teddy daughter
henry burton
isaac riggs | 17 | zac efron | nathan/megan son
jackson avery
leo hunt | 14 | peyton meyer | owen/teddy son
lexie grey
mark sloan
meredith grey
miranda bailey
nathan riggs
owen hunt
preston burke
sofia sloan-torres | 16 | shay mitchell | mark/callie daughter
stephanie edwards
teddy altman
tom koracick
tuck bailey-jones | 25 | emt | michael b. jordan | tucker/miranda son
zola grey-shepherd | 19 | candice patton | derek/meredith daughter
ncis
hannah gibbs | 16 | ashley benson | jethro/jenny daughter
jethro gibbs
tony dinozzo jr.
twilight
alice cullen
bella swan
charlie swan
edward cullen
jacob black
jasper hale
renesmee cullen
the walking dead
daryl dixon
mackenzie anderson | 17 | troian bellisario | negan/npc daughter
negan
rick grimes
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musicandi · 5 years
Text
Hairline Fracture (EMTDeran)
Warnings: Please be gentle with me, this is the first time I am writing in almost 5/6 years maybe even more. I wanted to try and take on the EMT Deran request but this is the first time I am writing animal Kingdom as well. Deran is a little soft in here. 
Deran has been up since 8 last night pulling an almost a 10 hour shift. They have one more run and then he is looking forward to rolling a joint, kicking his feet and not moving for the rest of the day. Whoever told him it was a good idea to become an EMT should be shot in the face. 
He kicks his feet on the dash as he lets out a big yawn earning a laugh from his partner in the driver seat. 
“Dude shut up.” He mumbled as he looks out the window at the sun that was just raising. 
“What! I didn’t say anything.” J says keeping his eyes on the road. J is a good kid, not that much younger than him so they always get along fine. Everyone got a kick at finding out J was his nephew that he never knew but with a raise of an eyebrow it always shuts them up. 
“Why so tired anyways?” J asks. “Wait I thought I saw Lincoln on the way in.” He tilts his head with a smirk that Deran rolls his eyes at. Gosh Clark Lincoln was a mistake and a half. Yea he was hot and sex was good but then when Linc wanted serious he was pretty bummed that Deran didn’t. Now every time he sees him it is either a puppy dog face or a hopefully face. 
“Don’t even start with that J.” Deran moans out.  
“No way, I told you don’t sleep with the nurses, that included Male nurses.” He teases and Deran although wanted to punch him, couldn’t help but crack a little smile. J was cool, a little asshole but cool. 
Soon enough they get to their location which seems to be at a beach that Deran visited a thousands time when he was a teenager. One thing he liked was that no matter how tired he was he knew when to be in the zone and he never failed there. Knowing the procedure like the back of his hand, J being exactly where he was suppose to be, everything flowed them right down to..Oh shit Adrian Dolan. 
Although on the outside Deran remained cool and collective, inside he wanted to know what the hell he did to deserve meeting his teenage crush while he looked like shit after pulling a 10 hour shift. He looks over to his partner and sees him smirking which means maybe he wasn’t as cool and collective as he thought.
“I already told them, they didn’t need to call you guys I am fine.” Adrian’s voice brings him out of his thoughts as he looks down at the surfer sitting on the sun looking like he got the wind knocked out of him.
Deran kneels down next to him. “Alright well can you tell me what happen while I look at your arm?” He asks gesturing toward his arm that was being cradled near his chest. Adrian at first just stared at him before shakes his head lightly and slowly bringing his arm out.
“The wave caught me off guard, pulled me under, kept me in the barrel before slamming me on the reef. But I swear I am fine, nothing that hasn’t happened to me a thousand times.” He explains as he tries to sell his story. Deran could relate. Growing up in Oceanside, there wasn’t much to do as a teenage boy but surf. He remember surfing till the break of dawn, he also remember the cute freckled kid who shredded everyone around him. He looks over to J who seems to be taking his vital and see him nod that he seems to be okay.
“You broke your wrist a thousand times too?” He asks Adrian as he lightly holds the broken appendage.
Adrian rolls his eyes as he nods with a smirk. “I grew up surfing and skateboarding as a kid, what do you think?”
“I think it means you need to come with us Mr. Dolan.” Deran replies with his own smirk, standing up to his feet.”
Adrian seems to be caught off guard with he hears his last name before he realized what he said before that and drops his shoulders. Deran sighs as he squats back down and places his hand on Adrian’s shoulder.
“Come on, the faster you get it looked at the faster you can get back on a board.” He sees out of the corner of his eye that J brought the gurney nearby.
“Fine but can I at least walk to the ambulance please?”
Deran wanted so badly to tell him yes, it was on the tip of his tongue but he guesses J could see his internal battle because he speaks out “Sorry it is against policy. You need to be on the bed.”
J and Deran worked together to get Adrian strapped in and the whole time he could feel J smirking at him, knowing there is a full story there. Deran raises his eyes to his younger partner and shoots him a glare. J softly laughs as he moves to the ambulance. Before Deran knows it J pushes him into the back.
“Don’t worry Bro. Go sit with prince charming, I’ll get you guys there safely.” Deran wanted to punch him in his baby face but instead he flips him the bird before closing the doors. He turns to Adrian and see him sitting there looking down to his lap.
“I thought you did this thousands of times, and you seem to be handling the pain like a champ, what’s up, worried about your board?” He says. As awkward as this could be, he thought might as well make conversation right?
“Nah, my roommate Chad is going to take it home for me. Just kind of bummed I broke my wrist. Thankfully I know how to still work with a cast, but now it means no surfing and a hospital bill. That is never in the budget.” He confessed as he throws his head back.
Deran watches him close his eyes and sigh. He clears his throat when he realizes he has been staring. “I am sorry Mr. Dolan.”
Adrian laughs as he lifts his head. “Come on Dude enough with that. Just call me Adrian since you clearly know who I am. Deran right?”
He laughs as Deran’s eyebrows shot up. He didn’t know Adrian knew who he was. Sure, everyone kind of knew who the cody boys were but out of all of them, Deran was the least of everyone's worries. He didn’t think anyone even remembered him anymore, especially Adrian. He tries to keep his cool by nodding his head as he looks away, he goes to grab Adrian’s wrist again.
“Hopefully it is just a hairline fracture. Faster recovery.” Deran offers as he gently lays it back down.
“A EMT huh? How did you get into this line of work?” Adrian asks. Deran looks up and sees Adrian looking at him with those same soft doe eyes that he remembers as a teenager.
“Umm well when I realized surfing wasn’t going to go anywhere kind of started doing stupid shit, I actually got caught for car theft and got put away for 5 months. When I got out I just remember wanting something different. It blew smurf away when I told her, I think it shocked her even more when I actually made it but it’s been good. Keeps me out of trouble.” He smiles charmingly at the end.
Adrian laughs as he nods along. “I remember surfing with you. I don’t know why we never hung out, we hung out with the same people. I remember you always being there, everyone wanted to be your friend. I think it is because they all thought you were so cool.”
Deran couldn’t help but snort at them. He remembered it being the other way around. Everyone was Adrian’s friend. He was a killer out on the water but probably the nicest person you could meet. “No they wanted to be my friend because I could score them bud.” He adds with a laugh, smiling brighter when it caused Adrian to laugh.
“Bud sounds pretty good right now.” Adrian admits.
“What about you?” Deran replies, trying to keep the conversation going.
Adrian shrugs as he looks back down to his lap. “I am doing okay. I tried to make the circuit. Surfed the QS a couple of times before I got too broke to keep competing. Been working with Tao up at Real Surf shop. Been trying to take class down at UCSD for Business Management.”
“Sounds like things are going good then right?” Deran remembers feeling like that, feeling like the dream becoming impossible, having to make real decisions, be an adult away from the safety of your parents. He believes that why Smurf hated that he became an EMT, got a real job, and moved out. He didn’t need her anymore and she hated it.
“Hang in there Adrian, Things will work out okay.”
A silence grows between them as they keep looking at one another before looking away again. J breaks the silence to announce they are pulling up. Deran moves to get Adrian set up to leave when Adrian grabs his wrist.
“I like you like this. You look good.” He whispers. Adrian flushes like he is embarrassed at admitting it but wanting to stand his ground. Deran can feel himself blush as he turns away and runs his hands through his hair.
“Let’s get you set up.” Deran answers and turns away. He sees Adrian drop his head and feels a punch in the gut. He didn’t want to make him sad but Deran isn’t one for compliments. It's hard when they don’t come your way too often. He manages to catch Adrian’s eyes on more time and tries to give him a smile. Adrian sees it and gives a small smile before looking back down at this hands as he and J move around him. He spouts out all the information to the receiving nurse as they move throughout the hospital. Once they get to the end of the line he knows it is time to go back to the truck and leave for the day but he hesitant by the bed.
He tries to catch Adrian’s eyes one more time but sees the doctor talking to him. So he sighs as he turns to walk away before he feels that light touch on his wrist again, he looks down at the hand then up to Adrian’s blue eyes.
“Don’t be a stranger alright Mr. Cody.” Adrian tease as one side of his lips curls up into a smirk. Deran felt like a weight leaves his chest that he didn’t know he was carrying and he lets out a laugh before nodding his head.
“I guess I will have to see you around then. Adrian” Putting an emphasis on his name. He finally manages to turn away and walks towards J at the end of the hall. He tries to hide his smile knowing J will give him shit. Hearing the little snickering coming from his side he knows that he is failing and pushes J to the side, causing him to laugh harder.
~*~*~*~
It took him two weeks, a lot of teasing and encouragement from both J and Craig, self pity sessions mixed with weed, and pep talks in the bathroom mirror before he finally found himself parked in front of Real Surf Shop. Seeing Adrian again, talking to him about surfing and life, remembering the cute kid who made him questions why he wasn’t like Craig or Baz or even Pope, attempting to flirt with him at one point. It couldn’t be for nothing right?
With one last harsh breath out Deran finally steps out of the car and makes his way into the shop. He sees two workshop both occupied with a worker. He makes out which one Adrian’s in, noticing the cast on his wrist, a tank top showing off arms that he doesn’t remember noticing that day and board dust covering his hair. He stands there taking him while waiting for him to notice him. He hopes it doesn’t take too long before he loses his nerve. Finally their eyes meet and Adrian turns off the machine and takes off his mask.
“Wha..Hey Deran.” He says sounding like he is out of breath, almost in disbelief. Deran can’t really blame him.
“I was wondering if you like beer and burgers?” Deran spits out quickly before he has a chance to talk himself out of it.
Adrian smiles bigger as he crosses his arms over his chest. “Who doesn’t”
Deran’s shoulder drop in relief as he comes to realize that maybe he still has a chance. “There is this hole in the wall bar I go to and was wondering if you would like to join me. We could you know.. Talk some more maybe.” He starts. Adrian starts to move around the board and starts walking to Deran never leaving eye contact till Deran couldn’t anymore and turn his eyes to the floor and runs his hands through his hair. “Maybe we can you know..do something afterwards.” He mumbles to his feet not sure if Adrian could understand him.
Part of couldn’t believe he was doing this. Deran doesn’t do this, he doesn’t ask guys out. He doesn’t try to go on dates with them. He hooks up and has fun and does not have any strings attached. But then again none of them were teenage crushes, none of them were Adrian.
He hears Adrian chuckle and looks up to see him smiling at Deran, both amused and happy with what was going on. Adrian nods as he uncrosses his arms and lightly brushes Deran’s fingers with his cast hand.
“Deran.” He says quietly “breathe.” he tells him.
Deran laughs as he pushes his shoulder. “Dude come on.” He pleads. He does not need to be made fun of here and he knows that is exactly what Adrian is doing. Adrian finally grabs at Deran’s hand and pulls him to his chest.  
“Time and place Cody. I’m there.” Adrian tells him with a smile daring him to do something. Deran smiles as he feels himself wrapping his arms around Adrian’s lower back. He does take a quick sweep around the shop wondering if there was anyone watching them.
“I am going to hold you to that.” He whispers to Adrian as he leans closer to him.
Adrian whispers his respond with a smirk that makes Deran wonder what the hell he is getting himself into but looking forward to it desperately. “That is what I am hoping for.”
Deran knows this guy is going to be the death of him and well…. Deran nevers back down from a challenge.
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lucidfm · 4 years
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look out somnilia — STEFAN SALVATORE ( the vampire diaries ) and JOEL MILLER ( the last of us ) are here ! check in is in 24 hours, so let’s hope that they’ve looked through their move-in checklist. the island of dreams is waiting to see them soon !
* NOW PLAYING: SPIRITS - STRUMBELLAS. don’t look now, but there’s STEFAN SALVATORE over there with their RING ! they’re never seen without it. rumours say they hail from THE VAMPIRE DIARIES, but that just doesn’t sound right… after all, the A HUNDRED SEVENTY+ year old EMT has lived their whole life here ! if they didn’t, surely they’d remember DYING. either way, i hope they enjoy their time in somnilia ! / paul wesley, cismale, he/him. (gia!)
* NOW PLAYING: LEAD ME HOME - JAMIE N COMMONS. don’t look now, but there’s JOEL MILLER over there with their WEAPONS ! they’re never seen without it. rumours say they hail from THE LAST OF US, but that just doesn’t sound right… after all, the FORTY EIGHT year old CARPENTRY BUSINESS OWNER has lived their whole life here ! if they didn’t, surely they’d remember ESCAPING AFTER SAVING ELLIE. either way, i hope they enjoy their time in somnilia ! / andrew lincoln, cismale, he/him.
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